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bellatriestowritesometimes · 3 months

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To Know

aaron hotchner x reader

Summary: You attend your best friend's wedding where you see Hotch for the first time in four years since you were shot on your wedding day by Peter Lewis, forcing him to go into witness protection and leave you.

Part 2

AN/explanation:

Listen it’s been a minute since I’ve written anything and by minute I mean 4 years so bear with me!! There’s probably spelling and punctuation errors but I wrote this in the middle of the night so cut me some slack.

OK so a bit of an explanation on this.. so you know how everyone has their imaginary scenarios they make up before bed or wherever (and if you don’t you’re weird!) well this is mine!! OK not really but ever since I watched CM which was probably about 5/6 years ago now, Hotch was on my mind 24/7 and I have this plot in my head with YEARS worth of scenarios thought out with original characters and everything!! This is just a small snippet of the whole plot I have had thought out for Hotch and Alex (that is what I have named her in my head, but have obviously written it as a Y/N to make it more enjoyable I guess? Idk what people prefer!!). I could probably write a book on this crap but I’ll just start with this part. I am in the process of writing a part two to this so if anyone’s interested I’ll try to get it out before the weekend’s over as this is the only free time I have currently! Now if I ever was going to make this into a series (that’s a very big if) this would be a chapter towards the end of this plot that I have created. Anyways enough rambling…

I am an angst over any other kind of genre girly so that’s all this will be :D this seemed better in my head and it ALWAYS does but I just wanted to get it out of my system.

Hope u enjoy xx

Warnings: smut (a little not too much), cheating.

Word count: 3.9k

It was your best friend’s wedding and you couldn’t have been happier. Henry was your rock and pretty much the only family you ever had. He had been with you through everything, all the highs and lows, so he deserved today to be absolutely perfect.

You were helping Luca with his tie and giving him a final check over before he went out to marry your best friend. Luca knew how important you were to Henry and how important Henry was to you. The three of you were practically a throuple. OK maybe not a throuple but anyone who was important to Henry became important to you. They had been together for almost 5 years but knew each other for even longer.

“He’s here you know...” Luca said “Henry invited everyone from the BAU..”

You raised an eyebrow at Luca whilst finishing up with his tie.

“I know,” you replied simply.

Henry was the one who got you a job at the BAU. He knew almost everyone and if he didn’t, he knew someone who did. He had helped out with several cases and knew everyone at the BAU well, so of course they all got an invite to his wedding which was in London. Henry knew your history with Hotch and that meant so did Luca.

“He has them all staying at the Ritz you know, booked a suite out for everyone,’’ Luca rambled.

“I know,” you repeated and rolled your eyes.

Of course he has you thought to yourself, money was never an issue for him. Not that it was for you either but you were slightly more modest than him.

Luca could sense that he wasn’t going to get anything else out of you so he decided to change the topic.

“You think we’re doing the right thing?” He asked referring to him and Henry.

“Absolutely,” you confirmed “he needs you Luca, I don’t even want to imagine what he would be like without you. It’s not something I’m prepared to take on” you let out a laugh. “You two have practically been married for the last 5 years, now it’s just time to make it official!” You gave his arms a squeeze.

“I’ll see you out there, no backing out now,” you gave him a wink and Luca gave you a nod with a smile.

You took that as your cue to leave and made your way towards the alter and towards Henry. As you made your way up to the front you saw all of the guests take their seats. You spotted JJ, Will and her boys a few rows from the front, who were staying at your place for the next few days. Emily, Spencer and Garcia were seated a few rows behind them and you spotted Morgan and Savannah seated on the other side of the room. You were trying to find Rossi and Krystall until your eyes landed on someone else. There he was sitting right next to Rossi with a brunette next to him which you assumed was Beth.

“How is he?” Henry’s voice snapped you back to reality.

“Huh?” Was the only thing that came out of your mouth as you slowly dragged your eyes away from the man that left you on pretty much your death bed and then divorced you.

“Luca – how is he? He’s not making a run for it is he?” Henry laughed but behind the laugh he needed the reassurance. He hadn’t been the perfect fiancé and has put Luca through the wringer at times, but there’s no one else for Henry other than Luca and vice versa.

“Stop being stupid!” You swatted him gently, “Of course not! I stopped him just before he got to the fire exit,” you replied playfully.

“Ha ha very funny,” Henry replied dryly, “And how are you? …You know with him being here.. You did say it was okay for me to invite him but I can send him home if you want. Just tell me and I’ll have him escorted out by security-”

“Please stop, it’s fine. Honestly I mean it. We’ve both moved on. I’m with Avery now and he’s with Beth,” you answered. “Besides today is not about me or my woes, it’s about you!”

The wedding ceremony was beautiful and it was now time for the reception. You made your way round to all the tables saying hello to the people you recognised until you reached the table you dreaded the most. Thankfully your husband Avery caught up with you to let you know that it was time to make your way to your seat as it was almost time for your speech.

You gave Rossi a smile in the distance before walking back to your seat, avoiding contact with Hotch for now who was sat right next to him.

After the speeches were done and the drinks began floating around the room, everyone felt a lot more relaxed. You were listening to the conversation Emily and Avery were having about a book they both had read, until you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“Hi you must be Y/N! I’m Beth, Aaron has told me so much about you!” Beth exclaimed as you turned around to face her.

“Yes hi! It’s lovely to meet you, I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce myself earlier,” you gave her a smile.

It was a genuine smile, she seemed nice and in any other situation you could even be friends. She is not to blame for what had happened between you and Hotch, however you did wonder what kind of things he has told her about you.

“It’s okay don’t worry about it! I understand how stressful weddings are,” she continued and for a second you thought if she had married Hotch without anyone telling you. Your eyes flicked towards her left hand that was wrapped around a champagne flute. No sign of a ring. You cursed yourself for still caring enough to check.

“That’s a beautiful ring” she said bringing you out of your trance.

You followed her gaze which was now on your own left hand. You hadn’t realised that you were twisting your own wedding ring with your thumb, reminiscing about how it felt when you had the ring on that Hotch gave you. It was a lot smaller than the one you have now. It had an oval diamond in the centre with three green sapphire leaves holding the diamond in place on each side. It was a delicate ring and you loved everything about it. Everything but the dreaded memories that came along with it. The ring was now replaced with a big teardrop diamond from Harry Winston and it was beautiful. It sparkled even in the dark and felt almost heavy on your finger. You had to admit that Avery had great taste, the two of you had now been married for almost 2 years.

“Thank you..” you smiled and let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding.

“Uhm this is Avery my husband-” you cleared your throat, almost forgetting to introduce him to her.

They shared a few polite words until Beth excused herself. You assumed she had gone to find Hotch as she disappeared into the crowd.

“She seems nice,” Avery said and gave you a small smile. He knew what had happened with you and Hotch and he wasn’t his biggest fan but he was never the one to bad mouth him.

“Yeah she does…” you replied quietly whilst your mind drifted off elsewhere. Emily sensed that you were uncomfortable and resumed her conversation with Avery in an attempt to take his attention off you.

It was several hours into the reception and you had stepped outside with Luca and lit a cigarette for you both to share.

You had noticed Beth was in the distance on the phone but Hotch was nowhere to be seen.

“Today has been beautiful,” you hummed as you took a pull of the cigarette and passed it to Luca.

“It really has been, thank you for helping Henry with the planning,” he expressed.

You both conversed about the wedding and your favourite parts until someone had interrupted you.

“Oh sorry,” your eyes followed his voice, “I thought Beth was out here,” he explained as he looked between you and Luca.

“She is,” you pointed with the cigarette between your fingers “she’s just gone into the gazeebo over there to take a call I think,” you replied.

“Thank you,” he looked into your eyes longer than he should have before he began walking her way.

“Is this the first time you’ve spoken to him tonight?” Luca asked whilst following your gaze that was still on Hotch.

“Yup.”

“There’s an explanation. I am sure he has an explanation,” Luca tried standing up for the man he barely knew.

You didn’t respond and instead focused your gaze on something else.

“You know… and I really shouldn’t be saying this but... I think Henry might’ve had something to do with it,” Luca continued.

“What makes you say that? Has he told you something?” You questioned focusing your attention back on Luca.

“Nope. He doesn’t tell me anything when it’s to do with work and I thank him for it. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he did. He would do anything to keep you safe. Even if it meant putting your newly husband into witness protection…”

You thought about it for a minute or so and yes maybe Henry was the one who suggested going into witness protection but that still doesn’t explain the radio silence from Hotch even after Peter Lewis was caught.

“I want you to have what me and Henry have,” Luca brought you out of your thoughts once again.

“I have that. With Avery, he makes me happy,” you replied not knowing if it’s the full truth. Avery does make you happy and you love him but you’re not sure if it compares to what you and Hotch had and it seems like Luca doesn’t either.

“Let’s get back in there shall we? I’m sure Henry is looking for you!” You perked up, trying to change a conversation that was becoming too heavy for your liking.

Since you were one of the few people who didn’t drink at the wedding, you decided to give Emily, Spencer, and Garcia a lift back to the hotel whilst Avery, JJ, Will, and the boys got an Uber home back to your place.

The car ride back to the hotel turned into an episode of carpool karaoke with Emily blasting any and every song that came on the radio.

Once you pulled up to the hotel you helped Emily out of the car and then let Spencer take over. You were about to shut the passenger door when you noticed a phone on the seat Emily was sat in.

“You left your phone Beyonce!” You called out to Emily as she was finishing her 3rd run of single ladies from the start.

You caught up with her and placed the phone in her hand, she took one look at it and blurted out that it’s Beth’s and that she had found it by some gazebo outside.

You pressed the lock button on the side and the phone lit up revealing a picture of Hotch and Beth set as the lock screen.

“What room is she in do you know?” You asked Emily but she just shrugged her shoulders and carried on signing. Spencer and Penelope both gave you a shrug signalling that they didn’t know either.

“Right I will just leave it with reception. The three of you get some sleep ok, we have brunch tomorrow!” You shouted even though the three of them were already inside the hotel queuing up for the elevator.

You pressed the lock button once again making the phone light up just to stare at the lock screen once more. With a sigh you then began to make your way into the hotel and walked towards reception.

“Hello Miss can I help you with anything?” The lady asked.

“Uh yes actually, I’m trying to return a lost phone to a friend of mine but I don’t remember the room number. Could you please let me know? It should be a suite under the name Hotchner, they’re here for a wedding,” you smiled hoping she’d give you the information you needed.

She typed away on her keyboard for a few seconds before replying to your question.

“I have an Aaron Hotchner on the system along with a Beth Clemmons sharing suite 107?”

“Yes that’s the one! Thank you so much!” You thanked the lady and made your way to the elevator. Emily and the others were long gone, probably passed out in their beds by now you hoped.

You tapped softly on the door waiting for someone to open it and hoping that it wasn’t Beth. You weren’t even sure what you were doing, what you were going to say, what if Beth’s awake, what would happen then?

You had no excuse and no business to be knocking on his hotel door. Well aside from the fact that he left you on your wedding night right after you got shot, had someone serve you with divorce papers as soon as you came out of your coma and you still haven’t had an explanation even though it’s been close to 4 years.

After a few moments the door was gently pulled open and there he stood. Still in his shirt and trousers from the wedding. He looked taken back seeing you stand there in the hallway. Although you were the only one on his mind tonight, you still had caught him off guard.

“Hi…” Was all that he managed to say.

“Hi…” you breathed out. “..Beth left her phone at the wedding reception,” you said holding it up as proof.

You looked behind him and could see 3 mini whisky bottles that were now empty, lined up on the coffee table. On the left you could see two large double doors that were shut behind the sofa. You had assumed that’s where Beth was sleeping as there was no sign of her anywhere else.

“Oh… Well thank you for bringing it here, you didn’t have to go out of your way...”

“It’s okay I was dropping Emily and the others off anyway,” you replied whilst handing him the phone.

As he took the phone from you he moved slightly to the side, almost inviting you in before actually saying it.

“Would you like to come in?” he paused for a moment, “…please come in” he pleaded. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you the whole night I just didn’t want to disturb you. Beth’s asleep so you don’t have to worry about her or we could take a walk somewhere,” he went on; desperation clear in his voice.

Instead of replying you walked past him making your way into his room, a completely different side of you taking over.

You made your away towards the sofa, never sitting down just standing in front of it. You turned to face Hotch who closed the door and walked towards you, stopping just a few inches away. You could tell he had been drinking. You had obviously seen him drink at the wedding but he left several hours ago yet here he was emptying the mini fridge in his hotel suite.

You eyed the bottles on the coffee table.

“Rough night?’ You asked but it sounded more like a statement. When you looked back at him his mouth was slightly open, almost as if he was thinking of what to say but no words were coming out.

You tilted your head to the side as you took in his features. He looked different. Good but different. After all these years had passed, you never knew when you would be able to get a good look at him again, and god how much you’d missed his handsome face. The last memory you had of it was when you collapsed in his arms after being shot during your first dance as Mr and Mrs. You don’t remember much after that, just faint shouting in the distance as your vision went blurry until you eventually passed out in his arms.

“I- um I don’t know what to say Y/N… I don’t even know where to begin,” he expressed. Concern, pain and regret all clear in his voice.

Before he could continue you lifted your hand up in an attempt to stop him from saying anything else. That’s not what you came here for.

“I am so sorry,” he breathed out but you took a step closer to him and placed one of your fingers on his lips to silence him.

“Shh,” you whispered whilst you ran your other hand slowly down his chest stopping at the belt of his trousers. You could feel his pulse quicken as he took in what you were doing.

Never breaking eye contact you began to gently move your hand lower until you reached his crotch. You then began to palm him with a bit more force, feeling him harden underneath your touch. A slight smirk played on your lips as you realised how much of an affect you still had on him, how much his body still responded to you. You believed that you were the only one that could get him this flustered, to get him to cheat on his girlfriend, to get him this hot and bothered over practically nothing.

“Take off your trousers...” you hissed.

The concern and regret was now replaced with confusion and curiosity but he did as he was told and began to undo his belt. You watched him carefully as he dropped his trousers to the floor stopping at his boxers.

“You can leave those on, this won’t take long,” you instructed coldly and pushed him onto the sofa. As he sat down he reached over to switch a small table lamp off, leaving a soft glow on your silhouette that was coming from a floor lamp on the other side of the room.

You lifted your dress and rolled it up stopping at your waist whilst you straddled Hotch. The familiar feeling of his dick beneath you was enough to send you over the edge.

You lifted yourself up slightly using your knees and grabbed him through his boxers, silently thanking him for wearing a pair with the slit. He watched your every move and took in a sharp breath when your hand made contact with him and took another when you gently lowered yourself onto his dick.

You began rocking your hips, savouring every single second. You started to pick the pace up and you felt Hotch move in to kiss you to which you gently pushed his head back with your hand, not wanting any other intimacy other than the feeling of him inside you and maybe you inside of him.

You took two of your fingers and placed them on his lips again, this time using them to part his mouth. You gently slipped them inside and he welcomed it. You decided to push them in deeper. Not deep enough to hurt him but deep enough to your liking. Your fingers felt cold against his tongue.

At that point you knew you were close and so was he, your fingers in his mouth helped him to stifle his moans, whilst you watched him intently. After a few moments you felt him twitch beneath you as he threw his head back when he came and you shortly followed.

You removed your fingers from his mouth and gently stood up lowering your dress back down giving the man you still loved one last look before turning around to leave. Just before you got the door you stopped and turned around, he was now up grabbing his trousers off the floor.

“You left me… I was in a coma Hotch and when I came out of it you weren’t there. You left me Aaron.”

Without giving him a second to respond you left and closed the door behind you.

As you stepped into the elevator a thousand thoughts were racing in your head. You began to question yourself on why you had come here in the first place, but you knew exactly why. You wanted to see if you still had that control over him, you wanted to see if you could still have him, if he still belonged to you. And he did. You thought about how your relationship had evolved from being just co-workers to friends from friends to lovers and from lovers to strangers. That’s what it felt like being in that room with him. Just two strangers having sex. That was probably the first time the two of you had sex instead of making love. There was a difference between the two and you knew which one you preferred.

Deep down you knew why he had to leave and most importantly leave without you, but it still didn’t make it any less painful. You had thought back to what Lucas said earlier when you were outside, that Henry might’ve had something to do with it... But the truth is whether he did or didn’t it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. He needed to leave, to hide and go into witness protection. Not only for his and Jacks safety but for yours too. It all made sense. Peter Lewis couldn’t hold you over him anymore if you had no connection to him so he left. He left without you and then had you served with divorce papers.

The elevator doors opened and snapped you back to reality. You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of the thoughts. You didn’t want to go back there, you had tried your hardest to move past that part of your life and dwelling about the details and the what if’s is something you didn’t want to do anymore. You had wasted enough time doing that and you’ve moved on since then and so has Hotch. But sometimes late at night when you can’t sleep, those thoughts creep back in and they have a way of suffocating you.

“Did you manage to return your friends phone?” The lady behind the reception desk asked with a smile.

“Yes I did, thank you so much for your help again!” You replied and returned the smile.

You made your way to the parking lot and got into your car and made your way home… To your husband…. Who you had just cheated on with your ex-husband. You pulled out of the parking lot and let the memories from earlier fill your mind. You had glanced briefly at your watch and the time told you that is was quarter past three. You groaned at the thought of having to be up before 11 am later that day for a brunch that Henry and Luca had organised with a smaller amount of guests, which included the BAU team.

You had wondered if he’ll be there with Beth or if he won’t show.

To be continued....

Part 2

#ycriminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #ssa aaron hotchner #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x y/n #bau x reader

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spider-gem · 16 days

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Alright, you know what time it is: THEORY TIME!

In Hazbin Hotel, everyone’s name correlates to their character (such as Angeldust, Vox, Sir Pentious, etc). As a writer and reader, I firmly believe that names are important and can give us a deeper look into characters. Alastor, despite keeping his real name from life, is not an exception.

In a series where names reflect their characters, I would bet that Alastor’s gives us a hint into who he was before he died. This, along multiple other reasons, leads me to believe that Alastor only targeted guilty or corrupt people in power.

Hear me out:

We don’t know much about Alastor’s past, as nothing has been confirmed in the show. So for now, let’s analyze the lore we’ve gotten from Vivziepop over the years and the context clues in the show. Let’s look at the hazbin wiki:

Now, that “weird moral code” could be directed at anyone, but here’s my reasons for believing he went after corrupt people with power:

1. I’ve never seen the show, but I know that Dexter was about a vigilante serial killer that targeted criminals that haven’t been punished by the justice system due to corruption. So I would say, seeing Alastor is being compared to Dexter, Alastor likely went after the same type of people.

2. He grew up and lived in New Orleans, Louisiana in the early 1900’s as a mixed man. If you don’t know much about American history, just remember that this during a period of segregation and heavy discrimination against Black Americans, and Louisiana was one of the most racist states at the time. I’m not going to go through a whole history lesson right now, but note that lynchings reached their height by the late 1800’s to early 1900’s as a way to enforce white supremacy and intimidate minorities. Some cases, if not most, were not regarded as homicides by police and the overwhelming majority of lynching perpetrators never faced justice. Even if they were tried, all white juries ensured that they wouldn’t be convicted. Seems like a good target for a Creole serial killer, right?

3. In the series, so far, we’ve seen that Alastor’s closest connections are with female characters, such as Rosie, Mimzy, and Nifty. He’s also been described as a “momma’s boy” before, so it’s safe to say he has high respect for women. During the period of his life span, women had little rights. Sure, they gained the right to vote in 1920, but that was about it. It wasn’t even until a few years after Alastor died before women had the right to divorce their husbands, and were often stuck in abusive households. For this reason, I could see Alastor going after domestic abusers as well.

4. He probably killed bigots that attempted to tear down his radio show as well. I don’t really have much evidence for this claim, but note that Alastor was a famous radio star. He’s also Creole. While some Creole people were considered as “white-passing”, interracial marriage was prohibited in Louisiana during this period. Alastor very likely had to struggle to succeed, and there’s no doubt that certain people in power attempted to tear him down because of his heritage.

5. Let’s look at his life in hell now. Who has he been rumored to have targeted ? That’s right, powerful overlords. Even in hell, Alastor still went after people in power. Sure, this was arguably to gain power, but the point that he only went after corrupt powerful figures still stands. Anyone else we see him kill, such as the loan sharks or the angels, threatened him and the hotel first.

To conclude, there’s no saying what sent Alastor on his path as a serial killer. I personally favor the popular fan theory that his first kill that sent him on this path was his father, likely after his father harmed/killed his mother, but anyone’s theory is as valid as that one at the moment. I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.

It could just be the social justice warrior in me saying, “Oh yeah, Alastor TOTALLY killed corrupt cops and domestic abusers”. However, I do believe that my theory on Alastor’s moral code is true based on my observations.

#this has been rotating in my mind for a while #so i finally decided to write an analysis #because i’m bored and maybe a little insane #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #long post #hazbin hotel theory

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ohisms · 1 year

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↪ 𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑺 𝑾𝑶𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹 . ( a series of sentence starters from season 5 of syfy’s “ warehouse 13 ” . adjust phrasing as necessary . )

nothing to worry about on this end .

keep me posted .

i’ve got another idea .

wait , wait , wait . . .

i’m not a total idiot .

look , [ name ] , that’s not what matters right now .

drive . okay ? just . . . drive fast .

of all the illegal things i’ve done , this is probably the least illegal .

we are not talking about that !

are you kidding me ?!

i’m gonna need another pair of hands .

i’ve got a plan i’m absolutely certain will work .

not cool ! not cool !

oh my god , what a great idea , [ name ] ! wish i’d thought of that !

i’ll explain later .

[ name ] , what just happened ?

i want him dead .

i just think we should make an informed decision .

heartbreaking , isn’t it ? when someone you loved and thought you knew turns out to be someone else ?

the question is ; are you with me , or are you against me ?

hey ! what’d you do that for ?

there goes our element of surprise .

you have no idea what you’re giving up .

so , sue me . i didn’t want you to die .

stop staring at me !

this way i can keep an eye on you .

patience , and all will be revealed .

follow my instructions for a change .

are you busy tonight ?

i will cut you .

now if you’ll excuse me , i have to get ready .

do you want to tell me the truth , this time ?

i don’t need you to protect me .

should i ignore the fact that that sounds insane ?

you’re lying , it makes no sense .

i haven’t hurt anyone .

there’s no way i’m leaving you like this .

you have been lying to me .

i haven’t forgotten about [ name ] .

a little bit dramatic , don’t you think ?

okay , your life is worse . congrats .

there’s no need to close that door forever .

can we stop talking about this and just get back to work ?

how about we just start with this ?

hopefully you’ll understand why i did what i did .

i told you i’d be back .

despite everything [ name ] told you , you’re here anyways .

life is shorter than you ever think .

i think a little danger is worth it , don’t you ?

please note that i didn’t say anything about how dangerous that would be .

you take one hand , i’ll take the other ?

what’s so important ?

i’m not blaming you , i just wanna know what happened .

i don’t understand . where am i ?

listen , there was - there was a car accident .

no way , come on . i don’t believe you .

we’re gonna talk everything through from the very beginning .

i have the feeling this is gonna take awhile .

don’t worry about it . i’ll take care of [ name ] .

i didn’t have very much when i came here , so i guess i’m kind of trying to make up for that .

the internet’s still around ?

i gotta say , i’m really hating this . i just , nothing feels real .

i’m just gonna wake up and be me again .

this cannot be my life !

please stop saying it’s gonna be alright because it’s not !

i was in a mental institution .

not to outdo you , but crazy girl carries a lot more stigma .

my strongest memories of you have to do with that guitar .

oh , boo - hoo , what . is . the . plan ?

did you not hear me say very , very carefully ?!

this place is about as secure as a kiosk at the mall .

do not snap at me , okay ?

do you have any enemies ? anyone who might want to hurt you ?

am i doing all these things with my mind ?!

i haven’t cursed anyone in years .

weren’t you nervous to play in front of people ?

let’s just say i’m addicted to more than just coffee .

would you play for me ?

since you missed the concert , i thought we could have one of our own .

my keen sense of perception is giving me the impression that you are upset .

don’t partonize me , [ name ] .

look , why don’t we just quietly work together ?

it was an accident , i didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt .

i didn’t know it was gonna be dangerous .

no one’s gonna die ! okay ? we’re gonna fix this .

have you seen him ? i mean , really looked at him ?

when you really love someone , you want them to be happy . even if it isn’t with you .

talking down to me does not help !

i’m not talking down to you , i’m just talking you DOWN ... there’s a difference .

it’s this place , it’s a thousand things !

you SHOT me ?!

with clear eyes ... and a full heart , you can’t lose .

will you tell me everything that happened while i was sleeping ?

i’m so sorry , i know i should’ve told you sooner .

i remember , now . i remember everything .

i’m not gonna let you go back to that .

you’ve tried everything , haven’t you ?

if i only get one day , i am so , so glad i got this one .

i’m counting on you to fix all of this .

i’ll find a way . i promise .

what answer will make you stop asking ?

relax , i’m not here for you .

that’s why you’re yelling like your hair’s on fire ?

i hate being friends with you .

i want to punch things .

i’m on the verge of a major breakthrough !

fine , i’ll go . this better be snappy .

i called the police , they said i had to wait 24 hours .

#this has been at the bottom of my drafts #but i'll get to finishing the show and updating this soon <3 #rp meme #rp prompt #inbox meme #rp inbox meme #ohisms

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be-my-ally · 1 year

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The first meeting, and other firsts.

An Empty Promises chapter! Crossposted on ao3.

Fic 1 references events that are technically sandwiched between two sections of this one but the main events there take place after this, and on the phone comes after both.

So this series is a little like my baby… and I’ve had this half-written for ~ six weeks while I became distracted with literally everything else. It’s entirely self-indulgent - just finally giving some backstory to fic 1 and on the phone. I have two later smutty, shorts in the works too - because, honestly, Elvis just constantly wants to spank reader (who is a whole 5/6 years younger than me so is ABSOLUTELY not an author insert, no way…) and uh, I really don’t have a problem with that.

pairing: fem!reader x elvis (1964-5)

warnings: 18+, slight innocence kink, little bit of daddy kink, oral (p + v receiving) ... elvis reads reader's diary.

wc: 11.6k

You’d noticed him hanging around the past couple of nights, although you’d done your best to ignore him. It was difficult. His characteristic pretty face and charm drawing you in. He’d barely been through the door when you’d recognised him. Recognition came and with it, the sudden spike of adrenaline and nerves that made you almost too anxious to acknowledge him. You’d barely just had the courage to wave hello the first time, pleased that he was seated far enough down the counter that he was Louise’s responsibility and not yours - you weren’t sure you’d have been able to get yourself together as quickly as she had. He’d stayed for a single cup of coffee, black - although the envious looks he’d given to the cream and sugar on the table made you suspect this was learned behaviour rather than a true preference, looking like perhaps he had just wanted a few private moments to himself, before leaving pretty quickly and quietly. You assumed that was the first and last time you’d get to see him up close. You’d lain awake that night, regretting everything, wondering what could have been - at the very least you could have had a signed napkin or something. He’d been right there, you’d been able to see the comb-marks in his hair, where the strands had been split, the tiniest hint of a lighter brown at his roots, you’d been able to see his eyelashes - fluttering in pleasure at the heat of his drink. You couldn’t deny you’d studied him, even if you hadn’t managed to bring yourself to talk to him. Somehow though it had worked to your advantage; it must have been part of the reason he came back so many times in the following week - that so little fuss was being made of him in your quiet little diner.

The second time he’d come in with a group - all men, that had burst through the doors loudly; you’d looked up to frown at them for making such a racket when you’d noticed him in the middle of the crush. He’d looked up at you and you’d smiled shyly, your knees wobbling less this second time. You’d still had to take a deep breath before coming around to the two booths they’d squished themselves into, building yourself up for the faux nonchalant air you hoped you could give off. You’d managed to make it through their order without embarrassing yourself, although you know you blushed when you overheard one of them asking if they should “take out that pretty waitress?” You were the only one still working out front. But whoever had said it never materialised at the counter - and they’d left as raucously as they’d arrived not long after.

The third time he was drawing attention to himself - not intentionally but he had come at a far busier time of the day than the strange hours he’d come in in the past and well, he was pretty conspicuous despite his clear efforts to look smaller. Still, he’d signed everything anyone thrust at him, and had seemingly happily chatted and flirted with the girls that flocked around him. You felt awkward that you had a desire to join the gaggle of girls surrounding him, embarrassed now that you’d seen him not once, not twice but three times, and never said a word directly to him, to go over and ask for something as trivial as his autograph. Louise had left a little over ten minutes ago though, and with her the other girls who had turned out to be her friends, and now he was alone and you could see his cup was empty. You took a deep breath before heading over with the coffee jug to offer him a refill.

“Uh, would you, sorry - hello, would, could I - would you like another refill?” You tentatively manage to spit out, your hand shaking slightly. You pointedly don’t look directly at his face, staring at the cup on the table. He sounds amused when he replies;

“That’s mighty kind of you honey, thanks.” You go to pour, immediately splashing some on the table - although thankfully not on him. Although that may have been more becuase of his quick reflexes shifting his legs quickly out of the way.

“Oh, no, oh - gosh, sorry, let me just grab a -” You wipe it up with a napkin as you cringe, but when you start to walk away he grabs your wrist before it could leave the table.

“Could you - stay a while? I’ve been trying to catch you alone.” It’s the first time you look at him properly, and your breath catches in your throat, he’s so pretty. It’s startling to see him up close in person, so used to seeing it through the glass of a television screen or inanimate on a record sleeve - to watch his face change, his nostrils move as he breathes, his hair shift as his head moves is as intimate a thing as you could think. As you study him you notice that maybe the difference is in the makeup; the ability to see his pores, or the softer hair, falling into his face but either way he looks younger than he usually does. But at the same time, more solid, less transient and three dimensional - you can’t imagine refusing him a thing, especially with his eyes staring into yours, so much bluer than they looked on the screen. You nod, and he gestures to the seat in front of him.

“If - if someone comes in I’ll have to go - I can’t, I’m saving for college -” You look around nervously as you take the seat, but there’s just an elderly couple in the back corner booth and a workman on a stool - no-one who needed assistance or who hadn’t been served. He nods, agreeing, as if he could possibly understand the desire to keep a job out of necessity. So you sit there and talk. He’s polite, in that wonderfully southern way, but you can tell from the way his eyes glint, and the corners of his mouth turn that he’s also got a mischievous side that he’s trying to repress - that he’s trying to impress you somehow. It makes you squirm in the booth seat - how on earth could Elvis - Elvis who a few months ago was rumoured to be dating Ann-Margret be possibly trying to impress you? You don’t even know how he’s been managing to sneak around, be so on his own, how there’s not bodyguards and press. You’re a little town just outside of Memphis so it wasn’t like it was far for him to travel for a hint of anonymity, if that was what he was trying to achieve. But why he’s even in town at the moment is a mystery to you - shouldn’t he be off in Hollywood filming, or doing press? Why would a man of his age and position would even be interested in you. Sure, you’ve got enough self-awareness to know you’re okay looking - with enough make-up and your hair done you’re usually pretty satisfied; but you’re not California - not movie-star cute! Still, somehow he makes you forget your self-doubt when you’re lost watching his lips move as he talks. He looks you directly in the eyes, so hard that you’re always the first to look away, it’s difficult to handle the intensity of his gaze. But he’s chatty and kind, and doesn’t wholly monopolise the conversation - although you wouldn’t mind if he had; his life endlessly more entertaining than your own. So, despite your slight discomfort and nerves you sit there, and talk, and your celebrity crush rapidly blossoms into a real life crush right in your chest in real-time.

A week later, you’re going mad - falling hard. Even though you berate yourself for it - for getting ahead of yourself, for falling so easily - for so many reasons. You’ve seen him twice more at the diner, and by sitting elsewhere from the other boys, and ensuring he speaks only to you, he’s made it pretty clear you were his main purpose in coming. You would regret the fact that he’s not been coming in everyday, cursing whatever kept him, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve spoken to him on the phone every night. Sometimes twice a day, often little inane chats that mean nothing, but somehow everything.

You’ve never had a boy who talked to you like he did, like you were his friend. You wonder if you should find it weirder, that he likes this kind of talk, the kind of talk that you know how to do. You’ve always found boys so different - you’ve never known what to say to them. Found it awkward to know what to say without being accused of flirting, or alternatively being too aloof. But with him it’s easy - you chat about your days, he asks you what you’re wearing, what you’re thinking - he asks you about your friends, the daily dramas and who’s seeing who now; despite only knowing of them for such a short time he always seems interested in what you have to say. It’s novel in so many ways, to have someone care what you have to say, your parents were supportive but dismissive and you often felt on the fringes with your friends. Although you notice, but don’t think too much of it - his voice distraction enough, that whenever you try to bring up anything of a more serious nature, perhaps something you’d read in the paper he always tells you the same thing;

“That’s not for you to worry about darlin’.” So you don’t, in fact you stop worrying about a lot. He seems to be taking care of a lot of things for you.

He’s charming and handsome and flashy - famous, in a way that you struggle to wrap your head around. Wealthy in a way you can barely comprehend - he’s already sent you flowers and expensive dresses and had, just yesterday, palmed you a little box with a wonderfully thin, gold chain and heart pendant. Jewellery - jewellery for a girl he’s just met. And you know you’re getting ahead of yourself, you’ve only really known him a week or so but suddenly you find yourself hoping when he calls you doll, or baby or little girl that you’re his doll or baby, or that actually you’d be his girl. You know its too early and if she wasn’t already then your momma would be worried about you catching feelings this fast but you just can’t help it he’s just so, so… everything.

You’re leaving work, slightly later than usual and you hurry across the dark parking lot towards the sidewalk that would lead you to the short walk home. But when you’re halfway across you suddenly notice that he’s waiting for you, leaning against his car. He’s dressed up in black on black, his hair slicked up and back, and he looks so sleek and suave and just plain attractive that your tummy flips when you see him. You do a double take, not expecting to see him stood there so casually and you rush over to him. He kisses you on the cheek in greeting, like an adult - which, you think, you are but it still felt like you were playing grown-up most of the time, and you can feel the blush rising on your cheeks where his lips had touched you. His light hold on your waist. It’s the first time he’d done anything quite so obviously romantic. He opens the door and gestures you in,

“Thought I’d take you out?” You agree easily, it’s not too late that you’ll be expected home and even if you were there was no way you’d turn down this chance. But as you sit down and he goes around the car the thought pops into your head that maybe he didn’t mean any of it romantically, after all, why would he want to take you out? You’re probably misinterpreting everything. You silently panic, until, as he starts to drive away he glances over and grins at you; one of those grins where he looks more boy-next-door than movie star, and reaches over to pick up your hand, holding it in his and placing them, entwined, on his thigh. It’s that exact moment, as you stare at your joined hands, that you know you’re ruined. You’d give him whatever he wanted if it meant he’d continue to grip your hand in his like that. That there’s no coming back from this now - even if he only means to play with you or toy with your feelings you’d allow him, that if he wanted you to be his girl at home, like you’d heard he’d had - or one of his easy girlfriends, you’d agree. You’d agree to whatever tiny scrap of attention he would bestow on you that might recapture the tummy-flipping excitement, the immense happiness of having his attention on you.

He takes you out for a simple dinner, you’re actually a little surprised, he’d assured you that your dress was fine (although you were thankful you’d changed out of your uniform) so you weren’t expecting too much, but you were still surprised it wasn’t anywhere fancy but just simple good food, that he’d clearly enjoyed with gusto and a Pepsi to wash it down with. But, as you’re growing to know and understand him a little better you’re starting to realise that often it’s the simple things that remind him of home that he likes the most - he’d almost cried at a slice of pie in the diner, saying it tasted just like one that his mother liked. And now, dinner over, you sit there in a dress he’d sent you only a day before, that you’d decided against saving for best when another had arrived the next day, slightly lost for words. What do you even have to say to him that could interest him? He teases you about this, clearly understanding or simply used to girls going silent around him;

“What’s keepin’ you so quiet tonight? You just too busy thinking how cute I am?” He grins at you like a little boy, and you can’t help but return it. You relax, teasing him back,

“No - just thinking about how I should shimmy out the window in the bathroom.” He looks shocked for a a second before breaking out into infectious laughter; clearly not expecting the response. When you both stop giggling he puts his hand on the table, palm up, and waits for you to put your hand in his. When you do, he clasps it tight, turning it over, and examining your hand - he tuts at the bitten nails, but flips it back over without mentioning them further. He holds onto you when he speaks next.

“I want to make it really clear baby, in case I haven’t been so far. I don’t want you to misunderstand. I, -uh, I really think I could like you a lot, and I wanna get to know you more. I think I already do, doll, but I - I really think I’m already fallin’ for you a little. I’d like to do this again - take you out, and the like?” You hesitate he’s so overwhelmingly in a different world to you that you can’t imagine why he’s suggesting this - as much as you want to agree. You worry your lip as you think of what to say, his eyes boring into you.

“You won’t… you won’t be ashamed to be seen out with me? I’m a waitress Elvis, and I’m not even in college yet - I’m not like those other girls, I’m not an actress or anything; and I don’t wanna be.” He shakes his head,

“I’ve had them other girls honey, and I want you.” You look down at your still intertwined hands and you don’t know why you’re acting like you don’t know how you’re going to respond.

“Sure Elvis, sure, we can - give getting to know each other a go.” You want to question him, ask him about the other girls you hear he has, hasn’t he brought that girl over from Germany? But you can’t bring yourself to mention it, slightly worried that it might remind him of something, make him rescind the offer.

He wordlessly picks up the check, leaving ample cash although he made you simultaneously frown and laugh at the absurdity of it all when he confesses that he had no idea how much he left and that he doesn’t usually carry his own cash so he has no idea how much anything costs anymore. He opens the door for you as you leave, keeping his hand on the small of your back the whole time, and asks

“So what’dya say? Wanna come back with me - be my girl? Wanna take you home?” You stop, in the parking lot. That wasn’t quite what you’d discussed before.

“You want me to be your girl El? You sure?” He nods, hurrying back to grip your hands in both of his, looking at you deep into your eyes, pleading with you.

“Want you to be all mine baby, want you to come back to Graceland with me, we can play house honey, we can - look, I just - I take care of what’s mine and I just want you… want to treat you real nice. You won’t have to save or work anymore - you can, you can just do whatever you like.” It’s far more than you’d considered possible, but his blue eyes were so convincing and a tiny furrow forms in his brow that you just want to smooth out by any means possible. You almost don’t consider the implications of what he’s offering - far more than his girl, he’s offering you everything.

“Well, ok then.” He pauses with his hand on your car door handle, still holding one of your hands,

“Well, you don’t sound too enthus’astic ‘bout it.” He doesn’t sound pleased, and it causes butterflies to immediately form in your stomach worried that you’ve upset him - you’re desperate to reassure him - to please him again and you shake your head,

“No, no, I am, I promise - it’s beyond my wildest dreams, but uh- it’s just, you’re gonna have to convince my daddy yet first. He still wants me to go ta college - you know, make a real woman of myself, and I don’t see how that fits.” He smiles with utter confidence;

“Don’t-ya go worrying that little head of yours on that, I’ll deal with all that when it comes round to it.” He kisses your knuckles, before opening the door and pushing you in, walking around to the other side. You’d noticed before that he liked to touch you - it seemed to be his way, indiscriminately brushing his fingers over whatever he could reach. But now that you’d given him some form of permission his hand doesn’t leave your thigh the whole drive home, except for a moment when he catches your hand again, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss against your knuckles before bringing them together onto his thigh again. Much the same as the journey there.

You’ve never had this casual closeness with a boy before. Your tummy is flipping nervously the whole drive home - you can tell it’s entirely normal to him, and you don’t want to give off the impression that you aren’t also used to it. It feels grown-up, adult, in the same way that his kisses on your cheek hello make you feel mature despite your age. You don’t realise he can tell this, in the shifting of your legs beside him, the way that you hold his hand a little too tight. And you also can’t tell that he likes this, but he does. He pulls up, half a block away from your house.

“Don’t want the neighbours peepin’ baby, or your Pa comin’ out here with a shotgun.” He offers as an explanation when you look over at him puzzled. You wonder what on earth for, when he’s leaning an arm over the back of the seat, and wrapping it around you, pulling you in closer. Your thigh starting to overlap his. He looks down at you, at your lips, and you look back at his, nervous all of a sudden.

“Are you gonna, you gonna kiss me Elvis?” You whisper, nervously. He nods,

“If,” he rubs his neck a little bashfully, “If that’s alright with you, honey, I sure would like to.” You rush out an agreement, curling into his hold. He presses a hand to cup your chin, fingers brushing your neck, and brings your heads closer together. He smiles when you’re close and you’re almost giddy with excitement - you still can’t believe you’re about to kiss Elvis, and you’re trying not to think too hard about it, or worry yourself, but he grasps hold of you, in complete control, and suddenly you’re utterly confident that the situation - that you are in safe hands. When your lips finally do touch it’s not like a kiss you’ve ever had before, although you’d only had two, but in comparison it’s not at all like the wet slimy kiss of Trevor or the tentative pecks of Bobby - it’s soft but unyielding and damp but not wet. It’s how you think it should feel, being kissed. You imagine it’s how champagne feels, the fizz building up in you. It makes you want to get up on the seat, kneel closer, as close as possible, it makes you feel alive. Your eyes close and you’re lost in the sensations as you contemplate who it is you are kissing, and consider how he got so good at it. He’s a gentleman, not forcing anything into or on you, just going with what you’re signalling. It makes you squirm in your seat against him, tingles being sent from your chest to your stomach. He leaves you chasing him, breathing heavily still and leaning across the front seat, when he pulls back. He presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before leaning back again. You sit like that for a few minutes, his arm still wrapped around you, leaning against his chest. You would have expected your mind to be racing, but strangely you’re calm, and can’t think of much beyond how much you enjoyed that, how much you can’t wait to do it again. After a little while he shifts you slightly, although his arm remains wrapped around yours and he wordlessly puts the car back into drive, coasting down to to pull up to your house. He gets out when you arrive, rushing around to open your door for you, and you pretend to be calm about it but inside you’re screaming, “Oh god, he kisses like that and he’s still such a gentleman - such a nice boy.” He presses a kiss to your cheek before sending you off to the front door,

“Next time I come through - I’ll come in baby, wanna see your little room, but for now I’ll call ya honey,” You nod, looking back at him sliding into the car again,

“You promise El?” He looks back at you through the open window, holding his fingers up in a scout salute,

“I swear it baby, I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

By the time you collapse into bed, your mind alight with the events of the evening, you still can’t quite believe it. You look around the room - trying to picture Elvis stood there, it’s difficult to picture him amongst your school awards still on the wall. Or laying on your bed - your stuffed animals dotted around. Still, you think as you snuggle down into your comforter, soon you won’t need to imagine - he’d promised you.

——

It’s just barely a week later, and you’re having a rare few days off from the diner while they were closed for renovations - a fact you were particularly happy about when you received a phone call from Elvis letting you know he was ten minutes away and asking if you were alone. You had of course immediately agreed, although afterwards panicked in having such little time to prepare, thankful that your mother had gone to visit her sister today while your father was at work.

You rush to open the door when you hear him knock, thankful that he’d rang ahead to warn you that he was passing by and that you’d had the small chance to tidy up a little, and freshen yourself up even if it was in a hurry. You couldn’t help but just stand there when you opened it, still in shock at seeing Elvis stood there on your doorstep - tight trousers and short sleeve blue shirt slightly open, looking like he’d just stepped off of a film set. He lets you gawp for a second, face filling with mirth before interjecting a moment later -

“Well…, aren’t ya gonna invite me in?” You stared, but nodded and you open the door all the way but before you can take a step back he was squeezing past you, apologising as he brushed against you as he walked in. You peer out of the door before you shut it tightly - trying to make sure no neighbours had been watching him come in, unaccompanied, into your house when they surely knew your parents would be out. When you turn around you catch him glancing around your entrance way, peering his head through the archways into the kitchen and living room and he nods approvingly,

“Nice little place you got here doll.” You smile, pleased that he approves but also slightly embarrassed at his qualifier - you know it’s small, nothing special, your parents never had much money to spare although you were always treated well.

“Oh well, I know it’s not like - like where you live but …” He interrupts you before you can go any further, shaking his head.

“Oh no, no, honey. You misunnerstand me - up til a couple’a years ago I’d dream about a lil house like this one - we never had much either.”

You smile back at his bashful expression. “Oh well, then. Glad you like it!” You do a little curtsey, and then immediately inwardly cringe. Why on earth did you just bob like that. He smiles at you, as if you’ve somehow just endeared yourself to him further but then glances up at the stairs,

“So, uh, you gonna show me your room?” He nods his head at the stairs and you giggle back at him, teasing him.

“My! How forward you are Mr Presley. Wanting to see a girl’s room before you’ve even taken her on a second date!” He winks at you, before taking the stairs two at a time, his forearms flexing as he grips the handrail. You’re not even wholly sure what is so attractive about it but you can’t resist simply watching the back of him, trousers and shirt tight on his skin, as he runs up.

“Yep! That’s me, now you gonna make me guess or you coming up too?” You laugh, following him up the stairs - suddenly nervous about its girlish decoration; you’re an adult (although admittedly, only just) but you take comfort in the familiarity of your childhood room, the same patch of stain from the nail varnish you spilt when you were thirteen, the marks on the doorjamb tracking your height, the familiar bed linen - a mismatched selection from all your major life stages, one pillowcase from a set when you were seven, another from when you were twelve, underneath your newest ‘grown-up’ set. The quilt your mother made you atop it all. You rush ahead of him to nervously lead him to the door and turn back to apologise about the childish decor only to flush, watching him inspect the wooden letters on your door - oh god, how embarrassing - you start to stutter out an explanation,

“Oh gosh, they’ve been there so long I forget they’re there - I don’t know why we even bothered with them, there’s only one of …” but your apologies falter on your lips as you watch him trace them almost reverently.

“I like ‘em baby - ’s cute, lets everyone know where you are. Could have found your door all on my own.” He turns his attention back to you and the room and you watch him take it all in. He glances over at your bookshelves, school books still stacked in them, and over at your bed with the little painted daisies on the wooden frame, the pile of teddy bears at the foot. He sneaks a peek over at your dresser and you follow his eyes where you see a scrap of white hanging half out of the drawer, your own eyes widen and you rush to close it with faux nonchalance from a knock with your hip.

He smirks watching you, but ignores it and you watch him go to take a closer look at your desk. You perch on the bed, waiting for him to have looked his fill and turn his attention from the room to you, but he’s distracted by something on your desk. He picks up a leaf of writing paper from where you’d left it out - to dry - your daddy won’t buy you the fancy paper with the designs already on it just to send to your friends who live right around the corner so you paint them on yourself; little trailing leaves and flowers on the borders. You freeze as he stares, examining your doodles with a little furrow in his brow - he can’t possibly remember.

“Say…doll, haven’t I received a letter like this?” Surely not. You had hoped when you’d sent it he would read them but you hadn’t really expected him to - fully assuming most fan letters would be tossed out pretty much as soon as they were received. You certainly never would have expected him to remember a letter that if you remember rightly yourself was sent over a year ago. You stutter out a response,

“Oh, oh, no, no. I think you must be mistaken, no, no I would nev-“ He interrupts you, completely ignoring your protestations.

“Yeah, yeah I remember, wasn’t it something like,” He puts on a high-pitched voice in an attempt at imitating you, “My mama won’t let me play your records anymore, says you’re a … what was it, a bad influence maybe?” He shrugs, “Seems to be most of the time anyway.” He laughs and then continues, gesturing with his hands, pacing in front of you “ ’S all coming back to me now, didn’t it go ‘but, when they leave I always put you back on the player, I just can’t help myself - your voice makes me feel things, I tingle.’ ”He returns to his normal voice again, “Weren’t it somethin’ like that?” You cringe away from his laughing eyes, you can only think to protest it but you know as soon as you open your mouth you’ll give it away but you try to do the best you can,

“Wow - I don’t think that was me, but do you really remember so many?” He laughs at your attempt, shaking his head.

“Yeah honey, I remember all the real cute ones doll. especially ones that say ‘sometimes I touch myself and think of you!’ Lord! What would your mama think of that!” You squirm, mortified.

“Oh no, no I really think you must be mistaken!” He smirks at you. Putting the sheet of paper back down - he stalks towards you and crowds you on the bed. You lean back and he follows, placing his body almost entirely over you, forcing you to lie almost completely back. You think he’s about to kiss you and your eyes fall shut in anticipation only to feel him move away a moment later - the pillow moving behind you causing your head to slip lower.

“Well - let’s see shall we?” You blink your eyes open and they immediately widen as you see what he’s holding - the diary from under your pillow. You sit up, reaching out for it.

“Oh no! Elvis! No - no, give it back!” He holds it above your head laughing as he pushes you back, keeping it out of your arms reach the whole time.

“Oh, no, no no.” He’s laughing at your struggles, “Gotta check my sources! See if you’re lyin’ to me little girl. One of these days you girls will find a different hiding place, gotta make the most of it.” He manages to grab hold of your wrist holding it across your body, catching the other between the two of you - pinning you against him - his chest on your back, and holding you with ease. He flicks the book open as you cringe against him. As if it couldn’t get any worse it immediately opens to a page addressed not, as you normally did, to ‘dear diary’ but to one of a few that you’d written ‘dear Elvis,’ across the top. You moan as you can feel the delight radiating off of him.

“Now then - looks like we won’t have to search very hard! Ooh hoo hoo!” he crows at you - “Oh my!” he fakes outrage, humming as he reads the page - you hope against hope it’s the one where you explain that you’d snuck out to see a film of his your mother had banned you from, and not a different particularly memorable entry.

“No way! Elvis - this ain’t funny no more! You gotta, gotta let go of me. Give me the damn book back!” He laughs at you,

“Now, now don’t you be getting too big for your britches little girl, I ain’t afraid to soap that mouth out.” He tickles your side and you giggle, although you feel a sudden surge of heat run through you, as you finally manage to break free. “No, no, where’dya think you’re going.” He sits on the bed patting his thigh and grabbing your wrist again pulling you around. “Back here on daddy’s knee, gonna read you a little story.” You squirm, but nonetheless sit where you’re told. You can’t deny, despite your mild embarrassment, that you’re enjoying yourself.

“Now it goes something like this - ‘Dear Elvis, Today was a rough day at school, Susie and Bryce started going steady and she told me she let him touch her in his car last night! Even though she knows I liked Bryce last year!’ I never will understand why girls get so caught up in liking someone who someone else once liked - why does it matter? Anyway, ‘I worry sometimes that I’ll never find someone who wants to go steady with me. I’m just not pretty enough, or tall enough. Or maybe it’s just because everyone knows I’m going to college.’”

You cringe at his reading out of your inane chatter, and you’re pleased when he hums and seems to be skipping along the page - hoping against hope he was growing bored. But you can feel his sudden smugness, and you just know that written on the page is not a story about you sneaking out to go and see Viva Las Vegas.

“Oooh, here’s where it gets good little, ‘This evening I went around to Natalie’s place - her parents were out, and she put on your new single, she was trying to convince me that the Beatles were so much better, but I think we’re just gonna have to disagree - they’re not even attractive.’ Well darling, at least I’ve got that going for me.” He laughs. “ ‘The thing is though, on the single there’s another song that I’ve heard before, but I don’t think I’d noticed the end - you make all these noises and I don’t really understand what happened but after I got home my panties were so damp through that I had to change them! Just from your voice!’ You start to squirm again, knowing what he’s about to read,

“Elvis - I really think, this is enough now - this is private, I don’t -” He just talks louder over you though,

“ ‘I’m still really wet, in fact, but that’s probably more to do with the fact that I couldn’t help but touch myself. Even though I heard the pastor say it’s a sin.’” His voice is dipping lower as he talks and his hand is brushing your upper thigh close to where you can feel the heat rising from within you, both from a hint of shame but mostly from arousal. His voice is deep and low in his chest and it hits you while you sit there that you’re on Elvis’ lap which makes you squirm all by itself.

He hushes you, “Shh, darling, not done yet, hold still.” And he holds you by his grip on your waist, fingertips gently stroking your side. You can feel his own heat burning against your leg, and you suddenly realise that’s his penis. A man’s cock growing against your own warm heat. You’re not as innocent as you were in that entry a year ago, but you’re not experienced yourself at all and pretty much all of your knowledge is secondhand from your girlfriend’s and their older sisters. You wriggle again, “Now, now let me finish.” He coughs dramatically, flicking the pages out as you whine.

“ ‘Sometimes I touch myself and I slip a finger in, I know I’m not supposed to but I just can’t help myself just thinking of you - of what you could do to me, god I’d do anything to be touched by you, just once.’ ” He skims the rest of the page, and softly closes the book, “Well baby, how does it feel to be touched by me?” His hands rub up your thighs and your eyes slip closed in pleasure as he watches your reaction, nudging them so far up that he’s almost brushing your panties. Your tummy flips, almost on the verge of being nauseous, as you try to catalogue the feelings. He removes his hands and you open your eyes catching your breath, but then he’s leaning back and pulling you down with him. He kisses you, in a way that you’ve never been kissed before, all tongue and teeth.

Then, he starts to kiss down your neck. You’ve never thought of any part of you as super sensitive but suddenly it feels like all your nerve endings are alight, feeling sparks as his lips trail down to your collarbone. You wiggle against him, feeling his large hand span across your back, fingertips pressing in as you push closer to where his leg has slipped between yours. Unable to stop yourself grinding against him a little bit. Your dress catches slightly and it means that for a brief moment the only thing between your warm wetness and his trouser leg are your thin cotton panties and you can feel the rough fabric rub against you, an involuntary moan escaping you.

“Baby, you gettin’ that feelin’ again?” You nod frantically, and he laughs - “Well,” he looks over at the alarm clock on your bedside table, “I don’t reckon we’ve got time to do anything about it now - not got time for you to finish - not before your parents get home.” You stare at him, blinking owlishly, you know, you know how babies are made, you’re not stupid, know that men can do things about it but -

“What…What do you mean? You can…do things about it? I can… finish?” He groans, his head falling back against the pillows.

“Oh!” He groans again, “Lord help me - yeah baby, yeah you can - can make you feel real good; you never? When you told me you touched yourself - it never felt… better?” You shake your head at him,

“I never got very far - didn’t have a clue what I should be doing and it made me awful hot and sweaty, and and it felt terribly tight and I wasn’t sure if I was meant to be and my parents are only the other side of this wall.” He moans so hard it’s almost a keen, swearing;

“Oh God. Oh goddamn. I swear, we haven’t got time now, really don’t have time but I’ll see you real soon, come back over when your mama and papa are home, gotta few things to discuss with them, then when I’ve got you all to myself I’ll teach you. Show you how you do it.” You immediately brighten up, forgetting your embarrassment in your excitement.

“Oh would you! I thought there must be something to it, but maybe it was just - just something some people did and some didn’t. ” You lean back down, catching his lips again. But then you pause suddenly, your insides twisting for a different reason, “Um, but Elvis, I don’t - don’t want you to get uh expectations or be dis’pointed, I’m not, not sure if I’m - I’m not sure I’m ready for, for sex. I’m not, not sure I wanna before, before I get hitched.” He looks in your eyes for a second before nodding,

“No darling, I know. Don’t you worry about it, that’s good, little one, you’re such a good girl for me - just gonna wait until the time is right huh, daddy’ll know when that is sweetheart, don’t you worry about that at all.” You can tell, looking straight into his eyes, that he’s being sincere and something in you relaxes. He pulls you back in for a slightly more chaste kiss, moving his thigh just enough to resettle the pressure and cause you to rut against him again. He lets you rub against him again for a moment before sitting up and pulling away.

“Now baby,” he starts with a plea in his voice, “how’s about you let me have a little somethin’ - just to …uh tide me over in the meanwhile?” You furrow your brow, unsure what you have to offer him,

“Well sure, maybe, I mean I don’t have -“ He jumps in before you can say anything else, interrupting you and talking fast like he’d been planning his moment on when to ask for this thing - like it was something he’d been thinking a while. Like a child sat on Santa’s knee, desperate to convey their desires.

“Could I have whatever it was peeking out of your drawer earlier?” You flush bright red from the chest up, surely he knows -

“Elvis! Those - those were my, my panties!” He grins wolfishly, mischievously at you,

“Well I know that doll, why’d you think I want ‘em?” You stand up to go and get them, although you still can’t imagine why on earth he’d want them.

“Here ya are - they’re not. Not special or nothing - but sure. I suppose.” He glows at you, and you’re still embarrassed but can’t help beaming back at him, watching him tuck them securely in his pant pocket. He stands up, looking over at the clock again.

“Really gotta go now honey,” You nod back at him a little sadly and start to head down the stairs with him. At the threshold to the front door he pushes a hand against it, preventing you from opening it for a moment and instead curls a hand around your waist, pulling you towards him again. You look up at him biting your lip a little, he pulls it from your mouth and keeps a hold of it with two fingers,

“You behave now ’til I see you again, alright baby?” He looks sternly at you, but his eyes are bright, playful, and although you can’t even imagine what he thinks counts as misbehaviour nor how on earth he would know anyhow but still you nod;

“Of course!” He leans down to you - far more chastely than before, just a simple press of his lips on yours.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” You nod again, and he leaves. You breath a sigh of relief as you close the door behind him, watching him hop into his, oh gosh, wow, totally inconspicuous, bright Cadillac all you can think is god, you can’t wait to put this in your diary.

——

The night you moved into Graceland was nerve-wracking. It had been scary enough to be introduced to his father, to his grandmother, but you were also terrified for other reasons. You knew that he hadn’t pressured you before but surely he’d want something in return for having you in his house. For keeping you. But you were wrong again. You’d gone to bed that night, anxiously peering at his ludicrously decorated bedroom when he’d led you in, and he’d tucked you in and pulled you into his arms with nothing more than a chaste kiss on the forehead. Since that first day, he touches you all the time, so physically affectionate that even though you knew it was genuine it felt like he was going out of his way for some reason. Just so that he might brush against you, or have to place his hands on your waist and move you. Anywhere you were sat, he or you would be practically on top of the other, his hand on your thigh or your hand being placed on his. He holds you, all night long, and it’s only the second night when you anxiously kiss him, desperate to at least make-out like you had been doing back home. He allows it, but pushes you away when you reach for anything further, tucking your hands into one of his and pulling you close, lulling you to sleep with your head close to his heartbeat.

The end of that first week was memorable for several reasons. The first, and the cause for the rest of them, was that he’d thrown the first party since you’d been at Graceland. You’d enjoyed yourself immensely - getting dressed up with him - he’d even helped you with your makeup, steady hand tracing your eyeliner. And the night itself had been magical, stuck by his side as he effectively showed you off - dancing together and meeting his friends. He’d been roped into singing and his clear enjoyment of the night had only increased your own. The second reason you found it memorable was that before the party you’d opened the wardrobe in your room and discovered an entire rail of new dresses, all perfectly sized to your exact measurements and style. The third was Elvis slightly tipsy (despite him not allowing you to have more than a sip) or perhaps just high off a good night, clutching you to him, your back to his chest and whispering in your ear;

“You just gotta, gotta say no if you don’t wanna, darling. Not gonna push you - ‘m not like that I promise.” He punctuated his point with a hand rubbing over your stomach, gently, soothingly. You’d stilled at his words, and he’d followed it up with, “Wanna…go upstairs? Let me teach you a few things?” You’d paused in your turning around, and he’d moved his head closer to yours, his lips practically touching your ears. He’d kissed the patch of skin just below as he’d continued; “Be my good girl? Let me show you how?” He’d brushed his other hand down your arm, gently, and you’d been pulling away and up the stairs before he could say goodnight to the others.

Which took you to now, stood in the middle of the bedroom, uncertain really as to what you should be doing. Should you get undressed? Take off your shoes at least? A moment later he’s entering himself, and shuts the door behind himself before striding over to you, capturing your mouth with his. His hands brush against you, but seem to gently hover, and it’s not until you make a little whine does he press them against you, holding you close with a hand on your back, the other coming to cup your cheek and chin. His tongue slips into yours, and you moan as you come up onto your tiptoes, desperate to stay as close to him as possible. He bends further, kissing your cheek and down your neck, sucking down when he reaches your exposed collarbone. You lean into him even further and he wraps both arms around your middle lifting you up, and carrying you over to the bed, even as his head was still buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel the skin rising, burning and stinging as he bites down, leaving a purple bruise where he had been, feel his soft, gentle tongue lapping at it and easing the sting as you let out tiny noises of pain and pleasure.

He puts you down, laying you back, and one of his hands comes around to your waist, stroking across your stomach. It feels like his fingers are burning through your dress, and his fingers - though slender and delicate when you see them on a steering wheel or holding one of his cigarillos, feel huge and heavy as they span your tummy. He kisses you again and you arch into him, and when he pulls back his lips are wet and redder than usual, plump and pillowy soft. Yours feel bitten and sore, tender in the best way. He sits up, pulling his hand out from underneath you, and you gaze up at him. He groans as he looks back at you,

“Oh lord, sweetheart, don’t look at me like that.” You raise onto your elbows,

“Like what?” He doesn’t reply, but looks away and takes a breath, when he turns back to you his eyes are bright with playfulness.

“Right, dolly, time to let daddy play with you,” You don’t know why that flips your tummy, if it’s his use of ‘daddy’ in this context, or ‘play’ or even him calling you not just a doll, but a dolly. But it does. He pulls you up, and turns you, deft fingers unbuttoning the back of your dress’ bodice as he does so, leaning down to press precious little kisses - no more than gentle touches of his lips - down your back when he exposes each tiny sliver of skin. He reaches the skirt, unhooking the button and lowering the zip at the waistband, allowing it to fall open and he eases the little straps off your shoulders. The dress falls to the floor, and you step out of it, you’re immediately self-conscious stood there in just your slip, in its almost sheer silkiness, but its not long before he’s hooking his fingers into the hem, and pulling it up and over your head. He stares for a moment, at you stand there in just your soft cotton bra and panties and you wrap an arm around your middle. He frowns,

“Don’t, don’t hide from me. Just let me look at you.” You blink at him, lowering your arm although a blush rises up from your chest.

“ ’S emnbarassin’ E,” He shakes his head at you, tsking as he does.

“Nothing embarrassing about it baby, letting your daddy look at you like such a good girl.” He glances at your panties, staring for long enough that you shift a little, “I love white, you got more like that? Or do I hafta go out and buy you some more?” You wonder what’s going to happen to these, but you know that the majority of your underwear drawer looks the same.

“No, no, they’re… most of ‘em are like this,” He groans, and has seemingly reached his limit for keeping his hands off of you, moving to touch your hips and run his fingers over your newly bared skin. Goosebumps break out as he touches you and you shiver at the contact. He pats your stomach, before running his hand down to the top of your waistband. He runs his fingers over it, gently, feeling where the fabric rests atop your soft springy curls, and then steps back again. He goes to strip off himself, having discarded his jacket somewhere downstairs - untucking his shirt and pulling it off. As his chest is revealed you can feel your face flaming again - as if it wasn’t already seriously red. He laughs when he looks over at you,

“God baby, you can’t have any blood left in your body - ’sall in your little pink cheeks.”

He throws the shirt to the chair in the corner of the room. He pushes his trousers down, confidently stepping out, he doesn’t kick them aside like you expected a boy might, instead bending, giving you a perfect view of his naked backside, to pick them up, folding them in half and slinging them over the same chair as his shirt. You feel free to ogle at him, considering he had done the same mere minutes before and you’re stuck wondering how people go about the day knowing this is what people looked like under their clothes. You never believed it would be something that you would find especially attractive, you knew men commented on women and girl’s behinds but you never thought it happened in reverse, didn’t think you’d suddenly be overcome with the urge to sink your teeth into the soft flesh there.

When he turns around you can’t help but stare straight at his crotch. You’d seen one before, in your biology textbook and once in a magazine that Natalie’s brother had stolen from their father that you’d all crowded around and giggled at, although not for very long before you’d had to quickly replace it as you heard his father’s car on the driveway. But never had you seen one in real life. You’d felt one, through a boy’s pants as you’d sat on his lap at the diner, you’d felt Elvis’ in fact in much the same way, but even when he’d gently stroked you over your panties you’d never gone so far to touch him unclothed, or even through a fabric layer. You didn’t really know what to expect. But his cock was rosy and already stood a little to attention, where it didn’t seem nearly as intimidating as you’d always expected them to be. Somehow, even without having anything to compare it to you could just tell it was a pretty. You immediately reach out a curious hand, and as he steps towards you, looking amused, you wish you could stop the words tumbling out of your mouth;

“Gosh - I’ve uh, I’ve never seen one in real life….” You try to stem your burning curiosity but you can’t stop yourself “What’s it feel like? Can I, can I touch it?” You pause, remembering your manners, “Please?” He nods laughing and gets himself within reaching distance of you. He places his hand over yours, gently gripping them together, his palm on the top of your hand and guides it towards him. You’re surprised at how smooth it feels, you don’t know why, you didn’t expect it to feel so soft although it’s also a little wrinkly almost and you’re slightly surprised because he seems to have more skin there than the guy in the magazine - it encases just below the head of his cock which is now popping out of the little folds. He lets go and your hand just rests there for a moment, before you squeeze a little, releasing and running your fingers gently over it.

““El, that’s, it’s so soft.” He laughs at you, pupils dilating as he looks at your fingers dancing over him.

“Not for much longer doll,” and he guides your fingers back to him.

“That’s it baby, nice and gentle,” You continue to stroke him, briefly, before he’s putting his hand back down, pulling yours off, “Just need, sorry baby, I know this is dirty, but just need, a lil help here. You gonna wrap your hand around me?” You nod, confused as to why he’s turning your palm up, “Ok, honey, I just need a little, needs ta be a little wetter.” He looks you in the eyes, almost like he’s asking permission, for what though you don’t know - but clearly whatever he was looking for he found because he’s pulling your hand closer to his face. You’re stunned, mouth open, when he brings it to his mouth and licks it, a damp wet stripe being left, before pulling back and spitting straight into it. You recoil a little, but your thighs clench as your core jolts. You blink at him, still shocked, as he pulls you back to his cock, wrapping your now wet hand around him again.

“Ok baby, that’s it, that it’s not too tight now baby, that’s it - oh, just there,” When you brush a thumb over the end of him he moans, so you do it again, and stroke just behind it. “Just a little tighter - oh lord - just make that yittle fist a little tighter darling, up and down now, oh that’s it.” You follow his instructions, and his hips jerk a little in response, you can see his stomach muscles under his soft layer of gentle fat clenching and tightening in pleasure. “God, what a clever girl you are. Learnin’ so fast.” You continue for a moment, until his cock is fully to attention, practically bobbing against his stomach.

“You wanna, wanna say a proper hello to him? Gonna give him a little hello kiss? Go on baby, he’s waiting for you - say hello to little Elvis. He’s so excited to meet you.” And admittedly little Elvis bobs as if he’d overhead the conversation, and from the leaking from the tip he does look excited to meet you. So you obediently bend over to press a little kiss to his rosy pink head. He lets out a little groan, that seemed almost involuntary and he apologises as he pushes you onto your knees in front of him,

“Not really right to do this to a girl - but uh, I suppose, if you’re my dolly, then… it’s fine right?” You don’t have any experience in what you’re about to do, but you’re not so sheltered that you don’t have any semblance of understanding of the act - and you have nothing against it, so you nod again, once again stunned momentarily silent by his surprising actions. You look up at him, from between his slightly spread legs - peering up at his tight chest and nipples, to his smooth, visible, neck to where his blue eyes are practically burning a hole into you. You swallow before trying to find your voice again;

“It’s more than fine,” You pause for a moment before considering what he’d said earlier, “daddy.” He moans, his leg jiggling a little, and you watch as little Elvis twitches in response.

“So you’re gonna be a good little girl now, right? Do as I tell you?” You nod, he exhales, slowly before starting to instruct you.“You can start by taking just the very end into your mouth, just hold it there for a second.” You do as he says, leaning forward with your mouth, and he sucks a breath in, loudly, as you brush your lips against his tip. You go to move down a little more, and he stops you with hand on your head, “Just, just give me a second, honey, gods, you feel so fucking good.” You still - “If you wanna, you can just, just reach down below, darling, gotta treat all of me nice - just - that’s it baby, nice and gentle with them little fingers.” He praises you as you reach around to fondle at his balls for the first time. He pushes a little further into your mouth, before pulling out most of the way - telling you now,

“Need you to just, just lick me a little baby, no, no - keep it in your mouth, just move your tongue around a bit, oh lord, that��s it right there baby,” He makes a high-pitched whine that you can feel rush through your body from where you’re connected. He puts his other hand around to poke at your cheeks, “Look up at me, that’s it.” He moves his hand to pull yours from his thigh and wraps it around the base of his cock. “Go on, what you can’t get in your mouth you can keep touching.” A moment passes, and he’s telling you, “ Ok hollow your cheeks little one, gonna suck me in, then you’re gonna just relax and let me, let me just fuck that throat and mouth of yours.” You follow his instructions, and he grasps the back of your head to keep you bobbing on him at the exact pace he wants.

“Now, now baby, since its your first time, you haven’t, haven’t gotta swallow it if you don’t wanna - but you may as well have a little taste - don’t want, don’t want it going anywhere but down your little throat in future.” He holds your neck, keeping you in place, as he thrusts into you - practically into your throat although he’s careful not to go too deep, but you still struggle to breathe a little. He grows slightly more erratic as he chases his pleasure and you’re glad when he pulls back so that just the head is still in your mouth, letting you take a deeper breath in.

When he shouts, “Oh god, that’s a good baby, fuck, fuck doll, I’m cumming baby,” you’re able to just have the tip in your mouth - which makes it easier to hold his cum without choking on it. You taste a little before pulling back, holding it in your mouth, your tongue recoiling from the texture. He hands you a handkerchief, embroidered with E.P on the corner, telling you slightly huffily, “Ok, that’s it, just spit it out there.” You do, embarrassed at the unladylike behaviour, and he takes it from you looking at it with distaste as he balls it up and flings it in the direction of the ensuite.

He looks down at you, “You did so good baby, such a quick learner aren’t you! So good!” You can’t help but squirm, your own arousal peaking with the butterflies in your belly again, pleased with yourself, but then slightly worried when he strokes your cheek, expression not as soft as before before starting to haul you up from your knees. Barely giving you time to stand before pushing you backwards onto his bed. “But next time, honey, I’m not havin’ you spit it out whenever wherever ok? So you’re just gonna have to learn to take what I give you.” You’re wide-eyed looking at him, you’re not entirely sure that’s something you want, but he does know best, and you’re desperate to please him so all you can do is nod and agree.

“Uh-huh, of course, just - just gotta get used to it I guess daddy,” He hums back at you, pushing you to lie flat on your back.

“Mmhmm. Ri-ght, ok, baby, your turn now, just lie back and let daddy take care of you.” He pauses, as if remembering something - “Daddy’s gonna get serious now, give you a real introduction - make you finish.” He smooths his hands down the sides of your chest and stomach, goosebumps forming as his fingertips trail down, until he reaches your thighs, where he pulls them up, so your knees are bent and your legs spread. He bends down, holding your thighs down and open, to press a kiss to the fabric separating his mouth and your body. He, laps at it, sucking at the material - the wet spot that was already there growing larger as he adds his damp spit. You wriggle about but he keeps you in place with one hand on a thigh, holding you open, and the other on your stomach, a solid weight pinning you in place. Your panties have gone practically see through by the time he leans back, looks down, and hooks two fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and off of your thighs. He looks at them for a moment, at the combination of his spit and your sticky wetness coating the other side before throwing them also in the direction of the chair.

“They’re mine now too baby.” You shake your head at him - you’ll have no underwear left at this rate.

“Elvis. You’ve already had a pair. I don’t know what you want them for anyway! Told you that last time!”

“You’re mine aren’t you?” You nod, you’ve been moved into his house haven’t you? How much more obvious do you need to be? “Well then, they’re mine too.” You gape at him, you can’t really deny his slightly misguided logic - not without setting yourself up for failure. You go to protest again, but he hushes you, “Stop arguin’ with me, little girl, not gonna get you nowhere.” He pushes your thighs back apart, “I ain’t gonna start something I can’t finish,” and your final protest dies on your lips when he presses a kiss against your mound. He moves his lips down, gently placing another kiss at the top of your vulva.

He licks a stripe down you, opening you up with his tongue, you can feel a gush of wetness at the act, and it seems that he could as well as you feel him smile against you before spearing his tongue a little way into you. He strokes your inner thighs, tickling the little fold where your legs meet your body. You shift to be able to look down at him. He’s been running his hands through his hair too much while you’d been getting him off that it’s no longer slicked up and back, but fluffy and gentle as you move your own hands to clutch at him. You pull gently, and he leans back just enough to look up at you through his dark, eyelashes at you. The sight makes you clench, and when your head goes backwards again, after he moves a finger to swirl around your clit, moving ever closer to the exact spot, you suddenly catch sight of the back of his head in the mirror on the wall opposite. You let out a noise you’d never heard yourself make before and you can’t take your eyes off of him. From the angle, you can’t see much below his shoulders - but it’s enough to send you, along with the physical stimulation, teetering towards the edge. When he finally, moves his finger to touch you directly your hips thrust up of their own accord, and you grind down on him when your body returns to the bed. His lips return to you, and he laughs as he reaches up to blindly pat at your face, he pulls back laughing - “Your lips cold baby? Or my hand hot?” You stutter out a response, really not certain of the relevance of the question,

“I, I don’t know! But can you, Elvis I’m so close, daddy please.” He shakes his head smiling and returns to your pussy with renewed vigour - firmly licking you out and playing with you. You can’t think of anything but the sensations, of how slippery you are, of how wet and soft while simultaneously gently rough his tongue is. He shies away from slipping a finger in, simply teasing around your entrance - although this reticence isn’t shared with his tongue which continues to fuck into you at a rapid pace.

You squirm, feeling suddenly desperate - although for what you didn’t know. He holds you right at the precipice for a moment, and you thrash, tense, until he resumes the exact same licking pattern as before, rubbing at your clit as he does and its like you’ve been released, shuddering and shouting out his name;

“Oh god - Elvis, daddy, that’s - unnh-” Your words cut off into non-verbal noises, huffing out quick breaths and moans as your body quivers. He finally pulls away after you’ve gone stiff in the bed, letting your body relax back from its arched position as you struggle to catch your breath. He runs his fingers over your folds, “God you’re so wet baby,” you squirm, feeling it cool into a thin stickiness on your thighs. He kisses your thigh, spreading the wetness from his lips, whispering - “Such a good girl for me baby - you like that? Your first one?” You can’t do much more than nod in response as you tremble lying there but you manage to murmur out,

“Yes, god, yes I liked it.” He hums at you,

“Well go on then baby, say thank you to daddy. Don’t forget your manners now.” You gasp, heat flooding you again although you’re too tired to want to do anything about it.

“…Tha-Thank you daddy.” He kisses the top of your mound in response and pats at you one last time, before he heaves himself up and leaves. When he comes back he’s dressed in a set of black silk satin pyjamas, carrying a little nightgown for you. He dresses you like you were the dolly he described before, manhandling you into the nightie. He rolls you off of the comforter, allowing him to pull the covers out so that he can clamber in underneath, cuddling you into him. He cocoons you in his arms, clutching at you, and you suddenly feel safe and secure after abruptly feeling unmoored. A tear slips out, for reasons that you’re not quite sure of, and he tuts, holding your head to his chest. It’s not long before you, listening to his steady heartbeat, fall fast sleep.

#empty promises #be-my-ally #elvis smut #elvis Presley smut #elvis fic #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfiction

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qpenpals · 2 months

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First of all, support Shubble and support all victims (which is a statement that while said a lot, seems not be followed as frequently, however i hope those who read this abide by it)

Second, I don’t support wilbur soot/william gold, and I don’t think that anyone should after this.

Third, while this situation is not about me, i have feelings and opinions about it that i would like to share, but even if you don’t read anymore,

Please watch shelby’s vod, and maybe try checking her content out, because while i don’t frequently watch her, i enjoy her streams and maybe you will too! her new hardcore series sounds great :)

This is quite long, but honestly this is kind of just for me to collect my thoughts, however if you read to the end thank you<3 im touched :)

ALSO ABUSE TRIGGER WARNING

Alright, so I have loved wilbur soot’s content for a very long time, 4 years or so. I watched the streams and listened to his music from the start. His content is entwined with many of my fond memories.

Earlier today, I had a breakdown over this whole situation, because, as I’ve been quite busy with school, my job, and other assorted things in my life, I found out about this morning. I had woken from a nightmare about my previous abuser. Who i will be talking about a lot more of as they really impacted my views on this situation.

However this nightmare had left me in a fragile mood, my girlfriend was still sleeping and i didn’t want to wake her, so to comfort myself i went to read one of my bookmarked fanfictions, this fanfiction, while i dont remember the title is one that i’ve found comforting for a very long time, so much so that when im stressed my partner has it saved to send to me so i can calm down.

It was a fanfiction about quackity and tubbo, wilbur soot was mentioned maybe 5 times, and the author had deleted it.

This caused me to try and find out why, so i went to their page and they had posted a temporary fic explaining what had been going on.

My first reaction had been disbelief, I then went to research everything. It was a lot to process.

I watched shelby’s vod. Before this i had mainly been disconnected from what i had seen, taking it it but not with any of my own feelings or thoughts really, just processing.

Shelby’s situation hits really hard for me because a lot of it mirrors my own abusive relationship of a few years ago. The wording Wilbur used against her, sounds like what my old partner would use against me. His actions, such as her having to clean and taking care of food, and amenities, were things i had to experience.

Abuse TW:

My old partner would physically abuse me through biting as well, he would claim that he just liked knowing i was his, and yet, like shubble, if i ever used our safe word, which happened so fucking often, he either wouldn’t listen, bite down harder on my neck, or fucking smile at me before letting go.

This got to the point that multiple times he had drawn blood from my neck, that i still have scars from today. And as i watch Shubble talk about her story which is ever so close to mine, I wonder that if I had watched this before, maybe i wouldn’t have stayed in that relationship.

I proceeded to stay in this relationship for 2 years before i realized how much harm he was doing to me, because i truly believed he loved me, because of all the lovebombing he would do.

End of Abuse TW:

And yet i felt pain aside from sympathy or memories, when learning of this, as the content Wilbur had put out had actually helped me out of this relationship, his music was pretty much all i listened to the months of healing after i got out and it helped, the art is good, and yet the author is one i cannot respect nor support in anyway now that i am aware.

i’d suggest watching this tiktok by @lasmanburg that really explains my thoughts and feelings on this

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTL1tb5Wg/

Right back to the content. I don’t believe that we should throw it all away, i don’t think that people should be deleting their art, fanfiction, or anything based on Wilbur. Because in the end it’s all art that we have created and interpreted and though the man who inspired it is horrible, all that has been made does not reflect his actions, but instead love and creativity from vast multifaceted community.

One can continue their writing and work because they are the ones creating it, not him, and besides most interpretations of him stray quite far from the source anyways

I think that one can continue to engage in his content as long as one does not directly support him, such as pirating his music, but personally at least right now listening to his music which brought me so much comfort-makes me feel sick. So think i’ll be taking a step back.

I don’t really know how to end this, i just needed to get my thoughts out honestly. I have therapy in an hour. I hope all of you who’ve made it to the end have a wonderful day and drink some water. I wish shelby well, and i’m glad she has been able to share this situation. And with that, I must now leave :)

#lil summary in the tags #alright so basically i don’t think people should delete their works based off of wilbur and that as long as one does not support him direct #engaging in previous content is okay #however i will likely not be posting about him anytime soon #also go check out #lasmanburg #because their videos have really helped me put my thoughts into words and i think their content is pretty swell #also if they are currently reading this hello! i hope tagging you isnt a bother #and if you’re uncomfortable i will remove it!#wilbur soot #william gold #shubble #tw abuse #i speak!#wilbur situation

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hlficlibrary · 2 months

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HL FIC LIBRARY ✤ AUTHOR REC

AO3: LiveLaughLoveLarry

Tumblr: @loveislarryislove

STATS:

✤ Number of fics: 88

✤ Posting Since: 2014

TOP 5 FICS:

1️⃣ You Took My Heart By Surprise {T, 39k}

There is reason to believe Prince Harry’s life is in danger. After a failed kidnapping attempt, Louis is assigned to guard Harry around the clock. He is the best at what he does, but he has a tendency to not get along with clients. Louis and Harry start off on the wrong foot, but it soon becomes clear that neither is at all what the other expected.

Queen Anne met Louis’ eyes. “While your file documents many remarkable accomplishments, it also contains a number of early terminations. Why is that?”

“It all depends on what your priorities are,” he said slowly. “If your primary concern is protection, I’m your guy. If you’re looking for someone polite…” He shrugged. “I don’t generally try to be rude, but social graces aren’t what I’m being paid for. If someone values being sucked up to over being protected, that’s their problem.”

“You seem quite well-mannered,” Anne said, frowning.

Both Nick and Louis snorted at that. “You’ve only known me for ten minutes,” Louis said. “Give it time.”

2️⃣ Though the Seasons Change So Quickly (Keep Them Buried In My Heart) {G, 6k}

A series of moments of Harry and Louis' relationship through the years, from the very beginning to the present, through the perspective of those around them. It's beautiful and it's brutal, it's awe-inspiring and it's awful - it is what it is.

"He’s special, Gem," Harry says. "He’s different. Different from anyone else I’ve ever known. I think-”

Gemma holds up a hand. “Slow down, buddy,” she says. “You’ve only known him a few months.”

“I know,” Harry says again, his fingers tugging at the designs embroidered in the blanket. “But it’s still true.”

Gemma studies him for a long moment. It’s interesting, she thinks. She’s never seen him like this -– not really. He’s almost glowing, a smile constantly either present or hiding just below the surface, and while it could just be the band as a whole making him so happy, she somehow doesn’t think so.

3️⃣ Funny How The Stars Crossed Right {NR, 17k}

Liam and Louis round the corner to see a horse trotting around the ring. She (or maybe he) is a beautiful animal, with a dark black coat and white socks. A tall man in riding clothes sits atop the horse, speaking softly. He’s completely focused on the horse, and doesn’t notice their entrance at all. Dark brown curls spill out from beneath his helmet, and his expression is one of total joy.

“Who’s that?” Louis asks, finding himself oddly breathless.

“That’s Chester,” Liam says. “He’s an angel.”

Louis is about to comment that he looks like an angel, but then pauses. “The human or the horse?”

Louis is a photography student, assigned to do a project at Greenfield Stables. Harry is a veterinary student, working part-time at Greenfield to gain experience and make a little money. They both have something to teach the other.

4️⃣ Might've Took The Long Way {M, 21k}

It's been two years since Harry and Louis broke up. They were that couple in high school -- you know the one; been together forever, hopelessly in love, all over each other, the whole nine yards. Even when Louis went off to university, they found a way to make the distance work.

Until they broke up.

Now Harry is back in town, and no matter how many times Louis tells himself they can't be together, they keep falling right back into each other.

“They got a name?” Bebe asks.

“What?”

“Your ghosts,” she says, her voice suddenly soft. “If you want to tell me, I mean. I know I said I wouldn’t ask, but. Sometimes it can help to exorcise them.” She pauses, and chuckles. “Other times, vodka works better than sage.”

Louis holds his breath for a moment, building the courage, before he finally murmurs, “Harry.”

“Sorry?”

“Harry,” Louis says again. The name feels like a time bomb in his mouth, but it hasn’t blown up yet. “His name was -- is -- Harry.”

5️⃣ The Things You Hide {NR, 27k}

Louis has been an MI6 agent for four years. Now he wants out. Unfortunately, his superiors have other ideas. Their solution: a 'mission' in the Greek Islands, one that's more vacation than actual work. Harry is an avid photographer who shows him around the area. He's open and carefree and everything that Louis wishes he could be. Along the way they fall in love, and maybe Louis learns a little about love, a little about lies, and a whole lot the meaning of home.

HIDDEN GEM:

💎 what's left of my halo's black {E, 22k}

As Harry sucks lovebites into Louis’ neck, Louis hopes that one day those marks will cover the way he can still feel Alex’s handprints burned into his flesh.

As Harry’s nails drag scratches along Louis’ back, Louis hopes that one day the scabs on his heart will heal and drop away just like the scabs on his skin.

As Harry fucks him down into the mattress, the bed shaking with every thrust, Louis hopes that one day his mouth will forget the shape of Alex’s name, won’t trace it over and over as the heat builds inside him, won’t want to scream it when he comes. Maybe one day he’ll open his eyes, as he slowly floats down from his post-orgasm haze, and won’t expect to see Alex’s face smiling back at him.

But today is not that day.

A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for. But Harry has some secrets of his own, and they send Louis' world spinning off its axis all over again.

#ficrec #authorrec #livelaughlovelarry #loveislarryislove #hlcreators #hljournal #hltracks

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wiypt-writes · 10 months

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Rawhide

Epilogue: Until The Cows Come Home

Summary: Five years post the final battle, Life at Avengers Ranch is pretty sweet

Warnings: Language, smut (NSFW) 18+

Pairing: Cowboy Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader. Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any of the characters contained within this series bar the Reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. I do not give permission for this to be translated and/or reposted on any other platforms. Reblogs are fine: Sharing is caring.

By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So here it is! The epilogue. I hope you enjoy. As of now, I have no plans really to continue but…perhaps if the muse strikes we might see a few one shots to follow up.

Rawhide Masterlist // Main Master-list

Part 14

W/C: 5.4k

“My grandad told me about a cowboy he knew, once. We’re going way back to the forties here. He rode into town and stopped at a saloon for a drink. Unfortunately, the locals always had a habit of picking on strangers, which he was. When he finished his drink, he found his horse had been stolen. He went back into the bar, pulled his gun, and fired a shot right into the air.” Clint made a gun motion with his fingers and mimed the action.

“Way to make friends an influence people.” Pete rolled his eyes.

“Well, it was his horse, ya know, valuable commodities in those days. They still are.” Clint shrugged, “So, he goes back into the bar, kicking off, demanding to know which snake had taken his horse. No one answered, so he says that he’s gonna have one more beer, and if his horse ain’t back outside by the time he finished his drink, that he’s gonna ‘do what I dun in Texas, and I don’t like to have to do what I dun in Texas…’” Clint mimicked a southern accent and cleared his throat. “Some of the locals start shifting a little, ya know, nervous like. Anyway, true to his word, he has another beer, heads outside and his horse has been returned.”

“So, that’s it?” Bucky frowned, “that’s the point of this story?”

“Pretty much.” Clint shrugs, “he saddled up, and started to ride out of town. He hasn’t got more than a few yards though, when the bartender comes out and asks ‘say, partner, before you go…what happened in Texas?’ Dude tips his Stetson as he looks back and says, ‘I had to walk home’.”

There was a moment of silence, before the group groaned collectively, as Clint laughed. Bucky threw the crust of his sandwich at Clint’s head.

“That is the stupidest joke I’ve ever heard.”

Steve snorted, listening to the guys banter as he leaned back against the tree trunk, his hat pulled down over his face. It had been a busy few days, moving the herd back down to the summer pastures and getting ready to bale the hay and silage that would see them through the winter. But he wasn’t complaining. In fact, he hadn’t complained about much over the past 5 years or so.

Well, bar Bucky being a persistent pain in his ass, but what else was new?

In the months that followed the battle, Fury had been appointed interim president of the WSC and had been permanently installed following a term of elections, for two terms running now. As such, the World Security Council had made good on its promise. Each state had their own elected representatives, and the divide which had separated red and blue states had been torn down.

Of course, some states still held conservative views, but even in those areas things had gotten much better for Omegas. Because their basic human rights had been secured through the Omega Rights Act at a federal level, something they failed to do the first time round due to the WSC preferring the appeasement method. Now, violation of those rights was punishable by law, no matter where you were, although how much it was enforced was anyone’s guess and varied, again state to state.

It wasn’t perfect, but then again nothing was. And it had been met in some instances with violent opposition, but that had been quashed pretty quickly. Some had been in favour of a more gradual overhaul, suggesting that each state should be allowed to install their own laws around Alphas, Betas and Omegas, as a sort of half-way house with a view to eventually changing the overall attitudes of people.

But, as Tony said in his speech when he was elected as the Senator for Montana, “sometimes you gotta run before you can walk.”

Essentially, it was all that they could have hoped for, and whilst it wasn’t perfect, it was a damned site better than it had been. Steve's shield and suit, and indeed the rest of the Avengers’ weapons and kit remained untouched, gathering dust in the armoury.

Things had even taken a turn for the better at the ranch. It was bringing in good money, both from the cattle and the sudden tourism boost, people flocking to see the battle grounds where the latest Civil War had taken place. This, in turn, had seen an expansion to the ‘Dude Ranch’. Although Steve hadn’t been particularly on board with that idea at first, he’d quickly been talked around.

As such, life for all the Avengers Ranch and everyone else in Stark Wood was good. In fact, life all round was good, but from a selfish point of view, the former was all Steve really gave a damned about now.

His mind strayed to you, and a soft smile spread across his face. Married now, you bore his name and his rings. More symbolic than anything, given the fact you were bonded beyond the normal ties of a bond anyway. But he’d wanted to show you exactly what you meant to him. Following his casual proposal, the night you’d returned home to the ranch, he’d done it properly a few weeks later. The pair of you had taken a ride up to the top of the hills and he’d gotten down on one knee at sunset, offering you his Mom’s ring. Which you’d tearfully accepted.

You’d married in the same place, the following summer, Thor overseeing the ceremony in his ordained state as Sheriff, and then you and your friends had partied long into the night in the huge tent on the grounds of the ranch.

Steve had kept good on his word too. Once he felt it was safe, the pair of you had gone to Texas where you’d visited your mama’s grave and told her you were okay, laying a bunch of her favourite wildflowers by her headstone. And then, you’d located Colin’s. Tactfully, Steve kept his distance there and allowed you to say a proper goodbye to your previous alpha. You’d told Colin (or at least you’d spoken to his modest headstone) all about your job at the ranch, how you worked shifts at the Vet clinic with Banner. You’d chuckled when you’d explained how you were still the one doing the books because your Alpha was just as bad at it as he had been…and you’d finished by thanking him for his sacrifice which meant you were alive today, and living the best possible life you could. Whether Steve believed in the afterlife or not, it had clearly made you feel better having said a proper goodbye, and who was he to deny you that?

He’d deny you nothing. He’d give you the moon and the stars in the sky to make you happy.

A boot kicking at the sole of his foot jerked Steve from his daydream, and he tipped his hat to look upwards.

“Ready to kick on?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” He smiled. With a groan, he pushed himself up and dusted down the seat of his well-worn wranglers before he mounted Star.

Together, the five men herded the longhorns down towards the pastures which surrounded the ranch, where the work would start over the next few weeks to tag the calves and conduct the health checks needed on the females. When the last one was in the correct pasture, Clint closed the gate with a click.

As they turned the final corner towards home, Steve couldn’t help the smile as he saw you in the riding arena. You leading Quin around, your Stetson sat on your head, a grin on your face as you walked. And upon Quin’s back sat a smaller figure, whose head was covered by a safety helmet.

Your daughter, Serenity Clara Rogers, known as Seren. It was a name chosen for its various meanings. In its full form her first name meant peaceful, which was what your lives had been since the battle and what you both hoped it would be for the rest of your lives. In its shortened, it translated as star, a small tribute to Steve’s emblem.

Her middle name was a payback to your Southern roots, and it meant bright and clear. And when it was all put together, it was exactly what she was to you both, a shining, bright star of peace and love and hope.

Getting Star up into a trot, and then a loping canter, he was pulling into the main grounds of the ranch a few minutes later.

“Daddy! Looks! I wides Quin!”

Steve grinned as he hopped off his horse and strode towards the paddock fence, looping the reins around the top rail. “I can see that!”

“Cans I has my own?”

Steve laughed, “you think you’re old enough?”

“I’m free!” A tiny handheld up three fingers as Steve faulted over the post and rails and strode towards you both.

“Hi, Cowboy.” You beamed as he kissed you softly.

“Hi, Doll.” His lips brushed yours before he turned to look at his daughter. She was much like you, same eyes, same hair, same attitude, and excitement to life. But, very much with the Rogers attitude and, funnily enough, his cheekbones and nose.

“Good day?”

“Yup, all cows present and correct. Did that new family check in?”

“Yeah, all good.” You nodded. “Oh, Banner called. He asked if I could cover the on call shift tonight at the surgery. Apparently Natasha has come down with that bug that’s going round, and he doesn’t want to leave her to take care of the baby Danny alone. Think they’re all still adjusting, ya know, after the adoption…”

“I think that’s okay, don’t you, Wren?” he playfully poked Seren’s tummy, speaking his nickname for her and she giggled.

“Cans we watch Toy Story? Wivs popcorns?”

“Toy Story? Again?” Steve groaned and Seren narrowed her eyes.

“I wikes it. Is my fave-rite.”

“Really, I’d never have guessed.”

Her Daddy’s sarcasm went right over Seren’s head, and you chuckled. “We got everyone coming for dinner tonight, baby, so you might not get chance.”

“After dinner?”

“We’ll see.” You smiled, “you ready to get down? I think Quin could do with a drink before we pop him out.”

“Otay…”Seren sighed, dramatically. She held her arms out and Steve reached up to pluck her out of the saddle. Her little arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed her cheek. “Daddy, your whiskers are scratchy!”

“Are they?” Steve frowned, before he rubbed his cheek against hers, causing her to squeal. Her hands pushed at his face as she giggled. With a laugh, Steve pulled back and she cupped his face, her fingers threading into his beard as she smushed his cheeks together.

“I wobes you, daddy bear.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than all the stars.”

Your heart swelled, the way it always did when you watched Steve with your daughter. She was the apple of his eye and he doted on her in all the right ways. He indulged her, let her be her own person, but wasn’t afraid to dish out the discipline when needed.

In contrast to Bucky, who pretty much let her get away with anything and everything.

Steve carried her out of the paddock, and you followed, leading Quin.

“Unca Buck!” Seren squealed as she spotted her favourite uncle and she wriggled. Steve let her down and she took off towards him.

“Hey, Squirt!” Bucky grinned as he picked her up. “You had a good day?”

“Yips. Me and Mama took ‘Mando for a walk, dens we made lunch, and I rides!”

“yeah, I saw you on Quin. Bout time daddy got you a pony of your own, huh?”

“Dass what I saids!” Seren held her hands out to her side and Bucky laughed, ignoring the death stare Steve was shooting him.

“She might have a point, Alpha.” You smirked as you passed him by and tried not to chuckle as his head whipped towards you.

“huh?” he followed you into the barn. “Really? You think she’s old enough?”

“It’s not like she’ll be going on cattle drives.” You smiled as you undid the girth to Quin’s saddle. “But what harm can it do? A little pony or something she can love and cuddle. You’ve seen what she’s like with every animal she comes across.”

“Yeah, which is how we’ve ended up with a damned cat that lives in the house now and not the barn, much to Commando’s disgust.”

“Hey, Barney would have died otherwise…”

“And the guinea pigs? Were they on deaths door too when Bucky and Sam bought them for her?”

“Sparkle and Cookie live outside, well in Summer anyway…”

“The tank of goldfish?”

“She won one at a fair. Thor was right, it was mean to keep him in a bowl on his own. He needed friends.”

Steve scoffed and you snorted.

“Stop being a grouch.” You teased, “make the most of her being like this. Because give it ten, twelve years she’ll be out dating and chasing boys instead.”

“Over my dead body.” Steve glowered.

“You can’t fight her growing up.”

“No, but I can fight any punk that comes within a three mile radius of her.”

That made you laugh, as you placed Quin’s saddle on the rack. “Oh, Steve.” You turned towards him, stepping into his arms. He groaned, his face pressing into his neck.

“Stop it…”he whined. “I don’t want her to grow up, ever. Where’s our baby gone?”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You kissed his cheek.

“What time are you on call from?”

“Seven-ish.” you stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, which was a little damp with sweat. Not that you cared. “I might not be needed but, you never know.”

“Okay, so if we grill for dinner at sixish, you should be okay?”

“Counting on it.” you smiled, “sides and fixings are all ready.”

“You’re too good to me, to us.” He smiled, his lips pressing back to yours.

You hummed into the kiss, allowing him to pull you closer. The smell and feel of your Alpha, your soul mate, your husband washed over you as his strong arms wrapped around your back. You allowed yourself to get lost, giving into that Omega part of you that you now loved as much as Steve did.

“Mama and Daddy is smoochin’!” A loud giggle came from behind you and Steve gave a small groan as he pulled away.

“Ewww!” Bucky wrinkled his nose, “do they smooch a lot?”

“Aaaallls da times!” Seren said, dramatically. “Unca Tony says mama wobes daddy’s animal maganatism…”

“I’m gonna kill Stark.” Steve muttered as you, and the rest of the gang laughed.

**********

As was customary post the cattle drives, you hosted the guys, plus their partners for dinner. Thor and Tony also joined you, along with his daughter, Morgan and Pepper who was sporting a pretty large bump as Baby Stark number 2 was very much about to make an appearance.

Morgan and Seren, separated in age by less than a year spent the spring evening playing in the garden, and by the time everyone was leaving they were both exhausted. Steve took this as a win as he didn’t have to sit there and watch Buzz and Woody for what felt like the hundredth time that week.

After bidding everyone goodbye, after clearing down the dishes and table, you headed off to take a call which had come through from the surgery.

Steve scooped his daughter up, “bedtime, baby.”

“I nots tired…” Seren protested, as she yawned and blinked hard.

“Sure…” Steve chuckled, “well let’s get you bathed and then we can discuss this, huh?”

Once bathed, dried and in her little set of cowgirl themed pajamas, Seren had given up the fight and was, indeed, half asleep. Steve tucked her into her little bed, chuckling as Commando took up his usual place on top of the comforter, by her side. Her little hand curled into his fur as she yawned.

“Story?”

“You bet.” Steve smiled, “which one tonight?”

“Spinderella.” She grinned. “I wikes dat one.”

“Spinderella it is…” Steve crossed the room to her bookshelf and then looked as you wandered into the room.

“I gotta go in.” You sighed, “one of Mr. Craft’s horses has injured itself, pretty badly in its stall. He said it can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“That’s okay, we got things here, huh Wren?”

“Yups.” Seren yawned again.

“I give her two pages, tops.” Steve chuckled, waving the book at you.

“I bet its four.” You smiled, leaning over to kiss her head. “Night baby, momma loves you so much.”

“Wobes you too, momma.” she hugged you before you stood up, ruffling commando’s fur. You then turned to Steve and kissed him quickly.

“I dunno how long I’ll be.”

“It’s okay’ Mega.” he smiled. “Drive safe, okay?”

You winked before you pulled away, his hand squeezing yours and you turned and left.

****

Seren actually fell asleep after three pages. When Steve heard her breathing even out, he glanced down and saw her eyes closed as she snuggled into him.

With a soft chuckle, he gently moved, his hand curling the back of her head. He lay her down, made sure she had her little bunny teddy with her and tucked her in.

“Night, my little star. Sweet dreams.” He whispered as he kissed her head.

Commando followed him as Steve headed down the hall after quietly shutting Seren's door. He padded his way down the staircase and found refuge at the wet bar for a drink before he settled up on the couch. His faithful dog hopped up next to him, resting his rather large head on Steve's lap. Flicking through channels, he found the mundane drone of the news filled his ears.

He watched the report and the panel as they chatted over a high profile court case that was filling the news at the moment, an actor versus his ex-wife who was accusing him of having jars of cocaine and ‘mega pints’ of red wine or some bull shit like that.

It was frivolous. And really, Steve had no idea why it was news. But the fact it was, meant there was nothing more worthy of the airtime, meaning things with the WSC and senate were calm.

Which was fine by him.

He sighed contently and brought his whiskey to his lips. He'd nearly finished the glass by the time he'd heard your truck pulling up toward the porch.

He checked his watch, all in all you’d been gone just over an hour. Which meant whatever it was can’t have been that serious. Hopefully, you wouldn’t get another call that night. It was rare that you did when you were covering the emergency shift.

Commando grunted and slipped off the couch to greet you at the door.

“Hi…” you bent down to give him loves, “hi, fella…”

His tail wagged and wagged happily. And when Steve snapped his fingers, the dog walked off. The simple command allowed you to get back inside and shut the door.

"That was quick," Steve spoke gently as he stood from the couch. He made it a point to never, ever have his back to you in conversation if he could help it. You were his equal and you deserved equal respect.

“Oh, daft animal had been rearing in his stable and got his leg stuck. Nasty cut but I managed to clean it and pad it. Gave him a tetanus booster and that was it, said I’d check back in tomorrow.” You smiled, “I just need ten minutes to type up the notes before I forget.”

"Alright," Steve nodded. "Can I get you a drink. 'Mega?"

“I’ll take a tea, please.” You smiled, “best not drink anymore in case I gotta go back out.”

You took your tablet from your bag and headed to the couch. By the time Steve was placing your drink down, your notes were done.

You shut the device down and placed it on the coffee table, picking up your drink and getting yourself comfortable as you swung your legs up beside you.

Steve picked up your leg from the ankle and set it in his lap, his strong hands rubbing over your calf through your jeans.

"Seren go down okay?"

“Three pages.” Steve chuckled.

You smirked as you blew a little over the rim of your mug, "new record."

“Think today tuckered her out. And I did a little thinking…”

He watched you wince a little as he dug into a knot, "what's that?" You looked at him.

“Maybe a pony of her own ain’t such a bad idea.”

“Okay, that…that didn’t take much convincing at all, Alpha.”

Steve chuckled then he sighed, "I think she's ready. I could make a few calls, see who's got one available."

“No need…” you bit your lip. “The Crafts have one…their youngest has outgrown him. I said I’d talk to you…”

"Oh," Steve nodded, "that works then."

“Yeah, convenient…” you agreed. And then Steve noticed the smirk on your face.

He gave a groan and a snort. “Was I actually going to get a say in whether or not she got a pony or was this just something you were gonna do regardless?”

"I mean I was just making it known that we'd discussed it. Formalities of checking with my mate and all that."

Oh, checking with your mate? Don’t you mean asking permission from your Alpha?” Steve teased.

"Details, details," you sniggered.

Steve rolled his eyes and took a sip from his drink. “So, what is it?”

“A male Shetland pony. Called Coco.”

Steve merely nodded as you continued.

“And. Let’s face it, it’s an investment.” You continued, “because when Seren has outgrown him, well…hopefully there’ll be another little one who’s ready to take the reins so to speak.”

Steve's face softened. "yeah?"

“Yeah.” You looked at him, a smile on your lips. “I thought that maybe when my next heat is due to hit, I don’t get my shot…see what happens.”

"Don't, don't do it." He sat forward, "I'm ready, darlin'."

You bit your lip, “me too.”

Steve held your ankles on his lap with one hand and leaned forward toward you more, "I want as many pups as we can, while we can."

“Woah, slow down there cowboy…” you chuckled, “I’m absolutely happy for two, I could be persuaded for three…”

Steve pecked your lips, "I'm teasing. We talked about two, but I'd be alright with three."

You smiled, your hand running through his hair, and then you moved to press your fingers to your mark.

I love you… your voice echoed in his head.

“I love you too," he whispered lowly. "So much, 'Mega."

“Kiss me Alpha.”

It took a tiny growl from his chest before his lips slowly, tenderly melted against your own. His soft kiss fluttered your insides and without though to it, you were in his lap.

Your hands cupped his bearded cheeks, the pads of your fingers softly brushing against his bristles as your lips allows his to lead them in a slow, sensual dance.

"Lemme love on you, 'Mega."

“Always…” your nose brushed his, “take me to bed.”

Steve needn't say another word, nor make any extra moves. He simply stood as he settled you into his arms and began his way towards the stairs. Blindly, yet expertly, he carried you up and up, to your bedroom where your bed awaited.

With a tenderness he reserved especially for you, he laid you down in the middle, on top of your pale blue comforter and positioned himself over you. One knee nestled between your thighs, his left hand planted by your head whilst his right hand cupped your face.

"My beautiful 'Mega," his voice whispered as his breath gently fanned your face.

Your own hand reached up, fingers gently tracing the curve of his jaw as he closed his eyes.

“My handsome, strong, protective Alpha.” You purred.

Time stood still when the two of you were like this. The intimacy so pure, that it squeezed at the heart in your chest that now beat for only he and Seren.

Steve dipped his head and captured your lips in a soft kiss. The feel of his lips on yours made you hummed against him. You parted your lips as the tip of Steve's tongue tickled at the pucker lines of your bottom lip.

Your hands dipped, finding the hem of his shirt and you gave a tug.

Steve's kiss barely stopped as you pulled the shirt up and over his head. The material pooled at his wrist by your ear. His fist curled together in his right hand, and he knuckled the mattress to flick away his tee. His lips were quickly back on yours trailing across your jaw and down your neck.

You sighed, happily, an Omega trill rolling in your throat which made Steve grumble a chuckle in response.

He sat back on his knees and pulled at the hem of your own tee as he did so, taking your body with him. With a light giggle you fell back with a little bounce to the mattress.

"That's better," Steve rasped as he bent back over you. He continued his trail of bearded kisses down your décolletage, to between your breasts and descending towards your navel.

He smiled against your skin as your belly twitched, always the same. So sensitive and ticklish in areas. He found it cute, and sexy.

He gave a nip to the skin below your belly button at the tip of your scar that gave him his daughter. Then he kissed the sting away tenderly. Those glittering, cerulean eyes looked up at you and he smiled against your skin.

You felt as if you blinked and then suddenly you laid naked before your Alpha, bar the bra that covered your breasts.

You chuckled and Steve looked at you, his chin resting on your sternum.

“What?”

“Nothin, just the speed at which you undress me always amuses me.”

"You make me very impatient, doll."

“I bet you say that to all the girls…”

"Just you," he smirks as his beard began to tickle the inside of your calve.

“Good to know…” you sighed.

"Mmhmm," he kept his lips to your leg.

You trilled again as whiskers tickled the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, Mega…I love those noises…” he worked his way up.

He nudged that joint where hip and thigh came together, scenting you. Your hand automatically tangled in his hair, your breath hitching in your chest.

Tentatively, Steve nosed your mound, the tip of his tongue tickling your swelling, sensitive bud. You whined, your back arching off the bed.

A low rumble sounded in your ears as Steve tasted you. He locked at you like a kitten to milk.

You whimpered and moaned softly, your knees caging his head in at his ears as your alpha gave you what you craved, what you wanted.

He'd eat away at you with fervor, then he'd slow to a near stop and make love to you there like it would be the last time.

And you loved every single moment.

Your orgasm was growing close, and you felt your body teetering on the edge of bliss. Tingling through your body felt like soda bubbles in your nerves.

"S'close, Alpha..."

He growled a little, before just as you knew he would, he slowed down. Leaving you mewling and begging for more.

"Please, Alpha..."

With a final grunt, Steve pulled away and wiped his face on the comforter. With a quick movement, he was up, out of his jeans and then back over you.

You were breathless, your body aflame. A sheen of sweat was beginning to cover your skin as you burnt hot from within.

“I got you, mega…” he whispered.

Steve held himself as he slipped right into you, a moan from you and a groan from him filling the airy space of the room.

Your hands flew to his broad back, curling round his shoulders as you dug your fingers into his muscles.

"You feel so good, doll." Steve's voice tickled your ear.

“You too…” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper over your panting.

Steve pulled back and slowly thrust back in, a rolling tide to his hips as he set the pace of loving on you.

His hands reached for yours, fingers lacing through your own as he pressed them either side of your head.

You sighed as his body melted into yours. The weight of him felt like a warm blanket, comforting you and securing you. It gave you a never ending sense of security. And to lock your bodies together tightly; you raised your hips and brought your ankles up to settle the heels of your feet against his lower back.

“Shit…” he grunted, his eyes closing for a moment before they opened, locked back on yours.

"There you are, Alpha," you sighed as he kept rolling those hips into you. "Don't ever hide." His eyes flashed a little as you arched into him even more. “Let go, Steve…”

"No....not 'til you...."

Always putting you first, that never changed. No matter what, you were his priority in your moments together.

You preened your neck, stretching out for him. You felt his nose dip along your mark, and he shuddered. Your lips parted in a sigh as you started to tilt your hips again to meet him.

His teeth nipped softly at your mating gland, enough for you to feel it, but not enough to break the skin.

"Oh shit," you rasped. "Alpha...."

“Mega…my mega…”

"I'm...." you needed just a little more, you were so damn close.

Steve knew, he always knew. His hips picked up the pace, but somehow he kept the same depth and rhythm.

His lips claimed yours, the kiss deep yet soft. A juxtaposition. Just like your alpha himself. So strong, get gentle. So firm, but soft.

"Alpha...." you whined as you tightened around him, your nose buried right against his mark.

“Cum for me, mega…” his voice was deep, his instruction clear. It was an alpha command, the only time he ever used them in you was in moments like this.

And you craved it.

"Oh my....fuck, yes," you came with a cry.

“Good girl…” Steve panted, his lips back at your mark.

You whined, whimpered then whined again at the praise.

“My beautiful Omega…” Steve’s words were almost whispered, a strain in his voice.

He was close.

"Steve....let go, baby," you cooed.

“Fuck…”

You nudged at him with your nose, bringing his eyes back to yours.

Like times before there was the fleck of gold that flashed in his eyes, and you knew he saw it in yours. For the room went black and beyond the gaze of your connection a galaxy swarm around you.

When you finally found yourself again, Steve’s face was buried in your neck. He was panting, deeply. The rise and fall of his chest pressing against you and then releasing you from its hold.

Your fingertips danced up his spine and into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He gave a soft hum.

"I love you, my Alpha," you whispered.

“I love you too, my Omega. And I always will. Until the cows come home.”

“Until the cows come home,” you kissed his neck, before he moved and captured your lips with a soft, sweet kiss. “Until the cows come home.”

#rawhide #alpha steve rogers x you #alpha steve x omega reader #cowboy steve rogers x you #cowboy steve rogers #avengers au

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trulybetty · 4 months

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2023 Tumblr Top 10 Posts

This was really interesting to go through as I really try to avoid anything related to stats - but also fun to revisit some posts/fics I’d forgotten about!

This year was such a transformative year in many different ways, that I’m still trying to process with 2024 quickly approaching. I’m looking forward to seeing what the New Year brings. But I hope it brings me more of the same I’ve experienced here - community building and some wonderful people that I get to call friends 💕

So if you’re interested, check out the following! If you do your own Top 10, please tag me in it! 🙌 you can do your own here!

1. 879 notes - Jun 26 2023 - Pre-Outbreak/Non-Outbreak Joel (photo set)

2. 413 notes - Sep 10 2023 - Sequins (Joel)

Still so thankful for @wildemaven posting that gif - because if she hadn’t Sequins!Joel would never have been created! It’s the gift that keeps on giving. This was also my first foray into anything non-TLOU themed for Joel and I’m still shocked it was received so well.

3. 306 notes - Sep 26 2023 - Happy Birthday (Joel)

Written for Joel’s birthday - this was just straight up smut and birthday sex. But hey, it’s canon Joel likes it gentle, steady, nice and slow… so who was I to not give him nice and slow 🫠

4. 237 notes - Aug 16 2023 - Stood Up (Frankie)

To this day I don’t remember where this idea came from. I was really intimidated to write for Frankie, like I almost didn’t post this! But I’m so glad I did, it’s spurred several other one-shots involving Frankie x Mav and a current (neglected) WIP that I’m excited to get back to in the new year.

5. 227 notes - Aug 31 2023 - Marcus Pike coded Pedro, which inspired this (and number 7).

6. 225 notes - Jul 6 2023 - New (to me) Whiskey promo shoot (photo set)

7. 205 notes - Sep 2 2023 - Sick Day (Marcus)

When I first came back to fanfiction I was so confused by the reader insert format. The last time I wrote fanfic, it was canon characters or OC’s - which is what both Gold Rush and Chiffon (my first) are written in. So in order to try out the format I started with Marcus and what is now the Sweet Jane series. I have plans for those two, I have how they met mapped out in my head, that I hope to explore soon!

8. 175 notes - Aug 4 2023 - Strings (Joel)

This was another nerve wracking foray - reader insert Joel and because it was a challenge to write Joel with someone other than my OC. It started as a one-shot, that then was three parts, then four and finally finished at five. It’s also the only series I’ve managed to complete 😆. I’m so proud of this one, it has a special place in my heart - this is the ending Joel deserves, living on a little farmhouse being taken care of and a reluctant chicken dad.

9. 167 notes - Aug 14 2023 - A Sunday Night Ramble (text post)

This was a late night epiphany - where I realised that I was trying to force writing and make my two OG series’ fit into more palatable moulds for others consumption rather than writing the story I wanted. It’s also a good reminder that it’s okay to take a break from something that isn’t currently serving you. If you come back to it two day later, two weeks later or never - it’s okay. You’re not beholden to anyone. This is all supposed to be fun first and foremost, if you’re not having fun then it may be time to step back and re-evaluate.

10. 166 notes - Aug 24 2023 - Drip (Joel)

I still get sad when I think about this piece. Like real sad. I don’t know if I could write something like this again now - or ever. I was well and truly in my feels with this one. I made the decision to watch a walkthrough of all the cut scenes of TLOU2 and it broke me. I knew what was coming, but knowing and watching were two different things. I do like that I left this one open to interpretation - meaning I can revisit one day if I want, so who knows.

NPT’s: @wildemaven, @gnpwdrnwhiskey, @rhoorl, @morallyinept, @frenchiereading, @maggiemayhemnj, @magpiepills, @goodwithcheese, @secretelephanttattoo, @sin-djarin, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @undercoverpena, @nerdieforpedro, @linzels-blog, @for-a-longlongtime, @avastrasposts, @musings-of-a-rose, @mysterious-moonstruck-musings & anyone else who wants to play - consider this me tagging you in! Please tag me if you do it! I’d love to see! 🙌

#trulybetty 2023 #trulybetty in review #tumblrtop10

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sendpseuds · 6 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers [DRUNK EDITION]

Okay so…

I was tagged by @yourfavoritefridge and answered all of these questions while very drunk last night and for reasons I’ve decided to just give you those answers.

{Obviously I wasn’t sober enough to format it with links and stuff so I have done a little after the fact but I’ll just mark all my sober updates with these fancy ass brackets, but for the most part, I left my drunk answers unaltered and did not elaborate. ENJOY!}

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

28 [Holy shit]

{technically 29 now}

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

380,7555 [feels fake] {and not a number…}

{also it’s 380,918 now}

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

Apart from the first fic [which we will talk about in Q19] Star Wars

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Haunted Heart {293 kudos | Anakin falls for the charming ghost haunting his house} {when I tell you I thought this fic would have less hits than it has kudos when I first posted it…}

Bound and Broken {252 kudos | Satine helps Obi-Wan through his trauma following the events of Kadavo }

I’ll Fall For You If… {241 kudos | Bartender Anakin helps widower Obi-Wan set up his dating profile}

Go Fuck Yourself Obi-Wan [WHAT THE FUCK!? I love you freaks] {239 kudos | When a young padawan Kenobi finds himself in the future, Obi-Wan gets to know himself on a… deeper level}

Your Highness {237 kudos | Obi-Wan and Satine during the year on the run. The beginning of a long running series}

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Not recently, and I’m trying really hard not to feel bad about it. MORE WHEN YOURE SOBER

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Bound and Broken or Haunted Heart

HonorableM: Curiosity Killed the Commander & Homecoming

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The Resolute Theater Presents

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? I’ve gotten the errant comment here and there, there has been a lot of asks about getting back to EIYWT which… ANSWER WHEN YOURE SOBER

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I love this question.

It’s the weirdest question.

I know a few other mutuals have pointed it out, and I want to be clear, I don’t mean it in a bad way, but this is a weird question in a way that I LOVE.

YES.

Yes, I write smut.

It’s pretty much all I write…

But WHAT KIND???

Oh fuck.

I write the kind of smut that will make you squirm in your seat and chew your lip as tears stream down your flushed cheeks.

I will make you feel things, and then I WILL MAKE YOU FEEL THINGS

{I’m fine. This is fine}

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Have not.

Have considered X-Files x Star Wars but I think that’s more of an AU than a crossover

[in case anyone is interested]

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of!

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t think so, but I mean— That would be incredible

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

ANSWER WHEN YOURE SOBER

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

ALL TIME!?

I don’t fucking know, ANSWER SOBER

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

This question makes me itchy. SKIP

16.) What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm still finding them. And I mean that in the best way.

I think maybe my strength is that I’m learning to just write the way I write?

I’m finding a way to tell the stories I’ve always heard in my mind and to my absoltute fucking astonishment — there are people who like the stories in my head…

I’m learning to ignore everything I ever learned about writing. I’m learning to just listen to that weird rhythm that has always been in my head and just TELL THE FUCKING STORY [sometimes literally] {gods I hate myself}

I don’t know.

I think…

I think I’m a good story teller.

I think I can tell a complete story, both short and long.

I think I’ve always been able to do this — usually out loud, I’m very good at giving speeches and entertaining people but I’ve always been good at telling stories. Nothing frustrates me more than a poorly told drunken shenanigan, or a wedding speech with bad story structure…

Okay this is getting pretentious

READ THIS WHEN YOURE SOBER

ANYWAY

Yeah… even though I’ve written stories with open endings, stories that could have a follow up, stories that leave you wanting more — they’re all still complete stories. You don’t NEED to know more, you can imagine the rest yourself.

And isn’t that the best part?

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m sure I have a lot.

I choose not to think about them…

…

That’s not true but if I think about it too might I’ll tear myself apart so I’m gonna say that I’m a terrible speller and MOVE ON

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I am not at all confident enough for this.

Fictional or not.

I mean, I’m totally into it! I’ll read it all day!

I’m not confident enough to write it [myself]

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

WOLF 359!!!

YOU GUYS!

THIS AUDIODRAMA WILL BREAK YOUR HEART

AND THE FIRST THING I EVER WROTE WAS A THREESOME WITH A FUCKING CENTIENT SPACESTATION AND TWO OF HER CREW AND I AM STILL VERY PROUd oh fuck I just realized caps lock was still on I’m gonna… yeah okay.

^^^READ SOBER

{the fic in question}

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Fuck me,

Um.

Probably Haunted Heart. {I still think about this fic on a daily basis…}

BUT

Can I shout out another fic I’m really proud of?

A Very Strange Time in My Life {a really short, really weird first person story loosely inspired by Fight Club}

{well folks… I hope you enjoyed this weird look into my drunk brain!}

#the things i do for internet approval #honestly #20 questions #writer questions #drunk answers #ask game

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curiousb · 1 year

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15 questions for 15 mutuals

Thanks for tagging me, @vimpse and @simsdada!

1. are you named after anyone?

Yes-ish? My first name is a feminised form of my father’s name, and also my maternal grandmother's middle name. Sadly, she died long before I was born, when my mother was only three years old, so I’m quite glad that her name lives on with me. My royalist mother also had a thing about a minor English princess, so I have her name as my middle name.

2. when was the last time you cried?

I honestly don’t remember - probably a few months ago. There has to be something very, very wrong for me to cry. It’s something I avoid doing, as I don’t like to lose control of my emotions.

3. do you have kids?

No, as a conscious choice. I’m really not cut out to be a parent, but I’ve never actually wanted to become one anyway, so it’s all worked out fine!

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

I try not to, as I think it can be cruel, but it depends on the circumstances!

5. what sports do you play/have you played?

Although I didn’t know this until quite recently, I have dyspraxia. So, sport and I have never been on good terms! Yes, I was always that kid - the one who was chosen last for teams at school. I’ve also always despised exercise simply for the sake of it. But, seven years ago I randomly took up Shotokan Karate - my husband had taken it up a couple of years before, and it was the first physical activity that had ever looked like fun to me! This year, I was finally awarded my black belt (1st Dan). Thanks to my dyspraxia, and pesky osteoarthritis, it’s taken me nearly twice as long as anyone else to get to this point, but I absolutely love it - it’s the perfect blend of mental and physical challenge - and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. It’s been fantastic for my balance, coordination, strength, agility, self-confidence and mental health. I’m now working towards being awarded 2nd Dan, in a couple of years hopefully. :)

6. what’s the first thing you notice about other people?

I found out only a few years ago, as an adult, that I’m autistic. But, I think the thing I’ve always picked up on when meeting someone new - even before I was consciously aware of this - is whether they are also possibly neurodivergent, and hence whether we have an immediate connection. I now realise that nearly all my friends have also been neurodivergent in some way (also autistic, ADHD, dyscalculia), and that the friendships naturally sprang from an instinctive understanding, thanks to similarities in our way of perceiving and processing the world.

7. scary movies or happy endings?

Can I say neither? I have a ridiculously overactive imagination, and although I absolutely do not believe in the supernatural, scary films play on my mind literally forever. And I’m simply unmoved by clichéd happy endings. I prefer films that make me think or imagine, and I’m quite partial to ambiguous endings, where I’m left to decide for myself what has actually happened, or what might happen next; ‘Inception’ is one of my favourite films. :)

I also love plain old sci-fi, with any kind of ending!

8. any special talents?

I’m a master at packing stuff into spaces in the most efficient way possible. Not very exciting perhaps, but useful.

I’m also very good at inductive reasoning. (Which is generally what Sherlock Holmes uses, not deduction.)

9. where were you born?

In the UK. Which is sadly just one big embarrassment these days.

10. what are your hobbies?

Ever since I first laid my hands on a computer, my first love has been video gaming. The Sims of course (1 and 2 - couldn’t get into 3 and haven’t bothered with 4), which I always come back to, but also various strategy games, such as the Civilization series. Also, choral/ensemble singing and genealogy. Oh, and my beloved karate of course!

11. do you have any pets?

No, I can barely look after myself, let alone be responsible for another lifeform too! In an ideal world, I’d have guinea pigs (which I had as a child and just adore, as they are the sweetest creatures imaginable), or perhaps rats.

12. how tall are you?

5′ 4.5″

13. fave subject in school?

Biology. I was born to be a scientist, and have always found the phenomenon of life to be endlessly fascinating.

14. dream job?

Once I would have said scientist - which I am now - but interesting though it can be, there’s also a lot of stress. I think that now, I’d rather be a self-employed professional genealogist. I’m considering trying to make the switch.

15. eye colour?

Grey-green. I didn’t used to like the colour, but I’ve grown to appreciate it more now, as it’s a little unusual.

I’m just going to tag a few random people, who I don’t think have played along yet, although my memory is shocking so forgive me if I’m wrong about that! As always, please also feel free to ignore: @tvickiesims, @roguebotanist, @clouseplayssims, @fwaysims, @eulaliasims, @plumbtales, @katatty, @moocha-muses, @esotheria-sims, @mypurpleriver, @balkopat, @sushigal007, @frauhupfner, @pforestsims, @beikonsims.

#non-sims #i got tagged!

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ahundredtimesover · 2 years

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The Light of Dead Stars (07) | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x (f.) Reader; side Seokjin x (f.) OC; side Reader x Namjoon

Genre/Tags: arranged marriage, fake romance, boss/workmate aus; angst, drama, fluff, smut; slow burn

Chapter Warnings: Foul language (18+)

Chapter Word count: 9.9k

Series Masterlist | Muse Moodboard | Setting Moodboard

Status: Complete

Series summary: Your unconventional arranged marriage with your company’s President, Kim Seokjin, is necessary, practical, and simple - both your families benefit, and he minds his own business and so do you. But when a slip-up causes his parents to believe that you and he are in love, you have no choice but to pretend you are, especially with the trip to France for his brother’s wedding coming up. When you get back to Seoul, things start to change, and Seokjin is faced with the most difficult decision he has to make.

“Do you want some tea?”

It definitely wasn’t what Jin was expecting after telling Seri that they have to end things, but it’s cold and he’s having a mini-heart attack so maybe something calming might help.

“Sure. Chamomile would be great,” he replies.

He sits on the three-person couch in her living room that opens to the kitchen and her bedroom and watches her prepare his drink. Seri’s quaint apartment used to make him feel comfortable and cozy; now, it’s just suffocating.

She places the cup on the coffee table then pulls a chair from the kitchen counter to sit in front of him. She watches him blow the steam away before sipping. He always has this little smile that he makes after the first sip; it’s one of the details she’s noticed over the years and it’s definitely something that she’s going to miss.

“I’m sorry that this is hard for you, but you don’t have to worry,” Seri says, catching Jin by surprise. “I, uh, I guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Hey, why are you apologizing to me?” He exclaims. “This is on me, it always was. I always thought everything was okay between us, that things were easy because they just were, without realizing that you always had to compromise, that you always had to adjust and understand.”

“And I had to because we were each other’s secrets, Jin. That’s how it worked; it’s how it always worked. And I used to think it was okay - that you kept me around as long as you did because something was just pulling you back to me, that there was something keeping you around. And I realized it’s because I let you,” Seri explains. “You say you haven’t been fair to me and yes, that’s partly true, but I haven’t been fair to me, too.”

Jin looks at Seri in shock, unwilling to believe that this is how it’s going. He didn’t expect her to fight back, but he expected her to ask more, to demand answers. “Fuck, what’s happening,” is what he manages to say.

“What, you didn’t expect it’d be easy up until the end, huh?” She teases.

“It isn’t easy, Seri. I’ve been unfair to you all this time and you don’t deserve the way I’ve been treating you.”

“Why, how are you treating me? A secret? Of course, that’s what we are, and I agreed to it. You think I would’ve managed if word got out about us, about the mere assistant cozying it up with the Chairman’s son?” She presses. “Sure, I was a 25-year old when it all started but I wasn’t naive, and I’m not naive now. At the end of the day, you treated me well, way better than anyone I could think of who wouldn’t keep me a secret. You’re a good man, Jin. I hope what happened to us doesn’t take that away from you.”

“Am I, though? I couldn’t.. I couldn’t do anything for you, for us. I took 5 years of your life and–”

“I took 5 years of yours, too,” Seri interjects. “We were on-and-off for a time but we just always found our way back to each other and I used to think that meant something but I never demanded more and I never expected you to do more, and that says something, too, doesn’t it?”

“I love you, Jin, and I know for a fact that at one point, you loved me, too,” she replies. “But if it was really enough and you wanted a future life together, then you would’ve introduced me to your parents and gone public about us but you never did. And that’s on me - loving you so much that I chose to be blind to all the signs. I knew what I was to you, and I wasn’t someone you were going to fight for.”

“But that doesn’t change anything, does it? Hearing what you wanted from me and not being able to do that… I’m sorry that I wasn’t better to you, that I let this continue on,” he mutters, the guilt multiplying at hearing what she’d been thinking.

“I took what I could get,” she manages a smile. “You’re a hard man to forget, Kim Seokjin. Anything from you was already much more than I could ever dream of. You take care of me in a lot of ways and I just… I knew the dream was gonna end at some point. I’m lucky it even lasted this long.”

Jin covers his face with his hands. It would’ve been easier if Seri was angry or even more hurt, but he realizes that would just serve him so he’d feel vindicated somehow, that she could express her anger towards him and he’d feel he’s paid his dues. The fact that she’s as understanding as this - which in hindsight is how she naturally is - somewhat makes it harder for him. Now he has to hate himself even more.

“You don’t have to hate yourself, you know? I know that’s what you’re feeling,” Seri pulls him out of his thoughts. “In all the years that I’ve listened to you talk, I noticed you always do that, and you don’t have to. You’re the last person who deserves that kind of hate. I don’t, so why would you?”

“I feel like I deserve it because I screwed up.”

“Because you agreed to a marriage with a woman who let you keep me, right? And then you fell for her.” She catches Jin off guard, his wide eyes telling her so, but she keeps going. “That's why it’s so hard for you, isn’t it? Because it’s your wife who’s made you realize what’s been missing with me all this time.”

“How… how did you know?”

“You never cooked for me, did you know that?”

“I, uh… I never did?”

“No,” Seri giggles. “And that’s fine; I probably wouldn’t have appreciated it as much since everything tastes good to me and food is just… food. But it’s more than that to you. And ___ appreciates that. I don’t know if you noticed but you’ve mentioned it a few times, cooking for her. I guess that’s one way I knew.”

“See, I didn’t even realize it. I’m so–”

“I told you once I love the fried chicken from the stall near the office and you used to buy it for me every week until I found a new favorite. I told you that I’m allergic to seafood so every time we used to go out then, you always made sure with the chef that the food was safe for me to eat. Whenever I was craving for something, you always got it for me,” she narrates. “We never had enough time, that's why everything was quick and simple, but that doesn’t mean you never cared. You always did, it’s just different with her, is what I’m saying. You feel like yourself with her; you get to be yourself with her for more reasons than just me being a rank and file staff in your company. You laugh more freely, you get to express your care in more intimate ways than just buying food from the nearby restaurant. She lets you do that, and I’d be the selfish one if I said that doesn’t make me happy.”

Seri takes his hand, knowing he’ll need more convincing that things are okay, that he doesn’t have to blame himself for things he doesn’t have control over. She couldn’t control her feelings for him, that’s why she kept coming back, that’s why she kept letting him pull her along for 5 whole years. It’s the same way with him and how he couldn’t control his feelings when it came to you.

“I honestly didn’t know how much longer we would’ve gone on with the arrangement, and I don’t mean just you and me being a secret, but going on with this affair when your wife is so difficult not to like,” she continues. “I hate to think that this might be hard for her, too.”

“She, uh, she doesn’t know how I feel, actually,” Jin sighs. “There’s this man she’s loved for years and I think she’s waiting on him and I honestly don’t know where that leaves me.”

“Well, that kinda makes me feel better,” she chuckles, immediately correcting herself. “Not in the way you think; I want you to be happy, Jin, more than you know,” she takes his hand again. “But it’s different if she was already waiting on you, you know? I feel like letting me go makes you more free to explore what you truly feel about her, and that means you could be more sure.”

It’s what appeases Jin somehow, and he didn’t expect that Seri would be the one to make him feel a tad bit better about the situation. And she’s able to make it even more sense for him. He wants to be free enough to know just how much he feels for you, and that would allow him to do more, be more for you, and give you the leeway to make whatever decision you have to make. It’s not a sure shot, this whole thing with you and him. But he feels it’s more genuine than anything.

“I guess I’ll have to thank you, too, then,” he finally smiles. “Come to think of it, you know me just as much as Yoongi and my brother do.”

“That’s a badge of honor I’d gladly wear,” she giggles. “But that also means that I know you didn’t mean for things to happen like this. You’re a lot of things, Kim Seokjin. An asshole isn’t one of them.”

The words sound familiar, and it’s a breath of fresh air to hear it from Seri this time.

“Thanks. That’s actually a compliment.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, and Seri takes the opportunity to tell him something, too.

“Since I was sort of expecting this at some point, I’ve also decided on resigning from the company,” she says, catching Jin by surprise again.

“What?! Seri, this shouldn’t keep you from working there and–”

“It just isn’t for me,” she cuts in. “I haven’t been happy professionally because doing support work doesn’t allow for the creativity that I’m craving. I really just stayed because it was the only way I could see you everyday, even if it was just at the lobby or the elevator. Pretty silly, isn’t it?” She chuckles. “So in a way, this is freeing, too. I chose to hold off on other things and that’s on me, so you don’t have to feel sorry at all. And this isn’t a swipe at your company, okay? So don’t stress about that, too.”

“I’ll try.”

“You will, and that’s the only thing I’ll ask of you.”

“So you’re really leaving, huh?” He says as he turns over his phone once you start ringing him. Seri sees it and smiles.

“There are a few places I’m eyeing around Seoul so yes, I’ve really thought about it.”

“What do I tell her?” Jin asks, as his phone rings again.

“I’m afraid that’s all on you now,” she smiles. “Just don’t screw it up, okay?”

“I hope I won’t,” he smiles back. “Thank you again and I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too. Maybe I’ll see you around? And happily with your wife, yes?”

“I hope so.” He returns her hug and looks at her one last time before he runs to his car, the biggest sigh of relief escaping his mouth.

His smile grows when he sees your text messages, asking if he’s okay since the rain is pretty bad and Mrs. Kang had said he’s out. The feeling of being able to feel for you with no guilt is different, and he can’t deny the feeling of excitement of finally being able to imagine what life could truly be like with you; he just hopes that in your heart, there’s a space for him somewhere.

And on a rainy Saturday evening, at least there’s one heart that’s soaring.

Back in the apartment that Jin had just left is a heart that’s breaking. But things need to break sometimes, Seri thinks, otherwise the cracks would be left unnoticed, and that’s not a way to love and be loved. At least in breaking, she gets to rebuild; at least in breaking, there’s a chance for her to feel whole once again.

“Shit!” You yelp, caressing the toe that you stubbed on the table after the almost-shock of your life.

“Are you okay?” Jin asks worriedly on the other end of the line. He decided to call you to answer your multiple texts asking if he’s okay since the rain had worried you and he might be out driving.

“Yeah, just a little accident but I’m in one piece,” you chuckle. “But you, are you okay?” You wonder. “I can imagine it must’ve been hard for both of you.”

“I feel better than I imagined,” he sighs. “Yeah, well, things came up on her end and I’ve been too busy, too. We decided to just end things than let it drag on.”

He hates lying, especially to you, but he doesn’t know what to say that doesn’t involve telling you how he feels.

“Oh, okay then. I’m sorry I’m not there for you right now,” you say, and he can already imagine your pouty face.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re with your family and that’s what matters so just enjoy there, okay?” He says. “I’ll message you when I get home.”

“Okay, be careful!” You yell before hanging up.

“Is your face always that miserable after a phone call with your husband?” Hoseok asks with an arched brow, the bitterness from the situation no doubt still making him a little cold towards Jin; you wonder how he’ll react with the news.

“No, I never am,” you say, giving him room next to you on the couch. “He and his girlfriend broke up, actually. So I’m just more sad for him.”

“Are you really?” your brother turns to you with unbelieving eyes.

“Uh, why wouldn’t I be?” You furrow your eyebrows. “She’s a woman he cares about and who makes him happy.”

“Is that something he said or you just assumed because he’s been sneaking around with her for the past 5 years with no real intention of actually getting together?”

“I shall rephrase by saying that yes, I would assume because they’ve been a pair for 5 years and that means something. I can’t imagine what having to let her go feels like for him.”

“You would if you’d actually do it yourself, you know? Since there’s a man you’ve been waiting around for for 5 years yet it’s only left you with a broken heart.”

“You really don’t like any of the men in my life, don’t you?” You pout.

“Aish, come here,” Hoseok pulls you into a hug that you immediately drown in. “Jimin and Jungkook are the only men I trust to not break your heart. I trusted Namjoon, too, but every time I feel like he’ll come around, he just always puts something else above you. And I hate seeing you second to his dreams all the time.”

“You know I’d never ask him to give that up for me,” you reason.

“I know, and he knows that. And maybe he’s subconsciously taking advantage of that, knowing he’s disappointing you but never enough for you to let him go. And that’s not fair to either of you - your love for each other is holding you both back. That’s kind of sad, isn’t it?”

“When you put it that way, it does,” you sigh. “I just don’t know a life that isn’t me loving him, you know? I’ve loved him for years and I feel like it’s all I know.”

“Correction - what you know is loving him from afar; there’s a difference. Sure, it’s still love, but it’s not the kind that can sustain you; it’s not the love that makes you happy, that makes you free,” Hoseok, your ever-wise brother says. “Love should make you feel free, not bound to a promise that you don’t know when will be fulfilled, or if it even will be.”

“He said we’ll talk about it though, when we meet again.”

“Didn’t he say that the last time, too? And then what happened? He asked you to run to Italy with him on a whim just because?” Hoseok reminds you.

“We didn’t expect to see each other. I mean, I wasn’t sure it was right to see him on a trip that my husband’s family paid for,” you shrug.

“Things still should’ve been clear for both of you then. Did you still want him when you saw him? Did he still want you when he saw you? What did you get out of seeing him then? Another promise?”

Your mind is going hazy and suddenly you’re unable to properly think. You know your brother means well; it just hurts a little bit, but he also makes so much sense.

Your sullen face tells him that there’s more on your mind but it’s all too much right now. Hoseok knows how much Namjoon means to you, and you have all the reasons to love the man; no one else has sacrificed as much as he has for you, and that will always mean the world to you, to your friends, and to your family.

But love’s intensity changes over time, so does its meaning. It doesn’t mean it stops being love, though, but it could diminish, and for fear of the unknown, people tend to hold onto what they believed was the best of that love, even if it was once upon a time ago.

“Letting him go doesn’t make you weak or unworthy, okay?” Hoseok says as he hugs you tighter. “It just means you’re choosing yourself, and you always, always come first.”

For the first time in a while, you couldn’t wait to get back to Seoul from your parents’ house in Gwangju. After your quick conversation with Jin last night, you haven’t spoken much to him. You wanted to give him today to iron out his feelings or to give him space if he needs it, while assuring him that you’re just there if he needs you.

Hoseok takes the train back to the capital with you before doing last minute errands and then heading to the airport for his evening flight back to Tokyo. As the creative director for a fashion magazine based there, he’s always busy and rarely has time to visit your parents, so he does as much as he can whenever he’s here.

You appreciate his wisdom; he’s always been the headstrong and emotionally mature one among the 3 of you growing up, and you and your younger sister, Miyeon, are incredibly lucky to have Hoseok on your side all the time.

But he’s honestly making you think too much, asking questions you’re not yet ready to face, such as what Jin breaking up Seri would mean to you and to your grand plan of separation after some time. You did say that the divorce was a way for him to be rid of you so he could be with his girlfriend, but now they’re over, it’s not like he could actively look for anyone. You’re his wife, after all, the only woman he spends a substantial amount of time with.

And what about Jin’s healing process? How does he get over something like this? Where does that leave you?

There was also, of course, the question that shook you a little, although you tried to not let it show.

“Shot in the dark question,” Hoseok had asked. “Do you, by any chance, feel something more for your husband?”

No was the safest and immediate response, and you wouldn’t be completely lying. Jin is a lot of great things - handsome, brilliant and hardworking, funny in his own ways, adorably annoying sometimes, and incredibly caring. He’s comfortable and freeing, and it’s those two words that scare you a little because of how you’ve never really felt it before.

This is a man who happens to be your boss and the President of your company yet it’s comfortable to be with him. Clearly, all the times you’d talked about food and every other mundane and deep thing in the world, all the times you’d done things out of habit with and for him, tell you exactly that.

This is a man you were arranged to marry yet it’s freeing to be with him. Because in between all the moments that you share, the trust and honesty and safety let you feel that you can do anything, that you can be anything, and he just makes it extra fun and worthwhile.

But these are questions you aren’t ready to face yet. You don’t know the whole story of Jin and Seri and even if you did, that’s 5 years of memories to get over, and you can imagine just how hard that must be. You don’t want to confuse him, nor be confused yourself, so you’ll let him heal and move on however he likes and give him as much time as he needs.

Wanting to give him a bit of comfort, you make him dinner - mul naengmyeon and some boiled pork belly. You got some hotteok on the way back, too, and you hope it would cheer him up a little.

He messaged earlier about spending the day with his family. Geonhoo and Ji-hoo wanted to watch a movie and then go to the arcades so he, Taehyung, and Hyun-a played games to get them their stuffed toys.

Jin had said that he’s too tired to stay over at his sister’s place and wanted to go home instead and when he opens the door and smells the broth, his face lights up, even more when you look up at him with a bright smile on your face.

“Hi,” you say, walking up to him.

“Hey,” he replies, mindlessly pulling you in for a hug.

You’re quite surprised but you hug him back. He’s not really an affectionate person as far as you know, so this might mean that he really needs care and support right now. You caress his back and hear a satisfied sigh leave his lips before he turns to look at you.

“Sorry, that was so sudden. I should’ve asked,” he chuckles shyly.

“It’s fine. I can imagine that it’s been a tough 2 days, and no need to ask, okay?” You say shyly this time.

“Okay,” he pinches your cheeks and then looks over you. “Did you make me dinner?”

“Yes,” you say excitedly, pulling his hand towards the kitchen counter. “I made your favorite and bought hotteok, too. What do you want to drink? We’ve got some soju, whiskey, wine?”

“Just juice is fine,” he smiles.

You nod and serve him. You both start dinner and talk about your respective weekends with your families. You don’t want to ask about Seri, not wanting to sound intrusive, but during a long beat of silence, he feels you constantly glance at him and he brings it up himself.

“So, uh, Seri and I decided to end things,” he says, thinking of just letting this idea stay and linger.

“I’m so sorry. You said something came up on her end. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, just… things. But she said she’ll be fine.”

“Will you be?” You ask, wanting nothing more than for him to feel better already, even if you know that’s not possible right now.

He nods in response. “I’ll be okay so don’t worry about me.”

“I’m here if you want to talk though,” you place your hand on top of his. “I can make your favorite food or buy you some. Maybe watch sports on mute with you or maybe, uh, go golfing or fishing with you or something.”

He laughs at the last bit, given how much you complain that his hobbies are so boring and take too much patience that you just don’t have. You used to tease him that he’s a “rich man” who can find other “rich men” to do those “rich people shit” with and he was always amused at how you said it.

“Nah, I don’t want to bore you with my hobbies,” he teases.

“Yeah, I’ll probably be a terrible companion so you can ask Yoongi or Taehyung for those,” you chuckle. “But really, anything else is fine with me. I’m your wife and your friend and I’ll be here for you.”

“Hmm, we’ve come such a long way, huh?” He says.

“Yeah, and to think we used to not mind each other much,” you respond, recalling your ‘more like housemates than spouses’ status for a time. ��But you deserve to be happy more than anyone I know, so do what you need to move forward, okay?”

The irony isn’t lost on him and it actually hurts Jin more than anything. Seeing you try to be his friend is what he needs and doesn’t need at the same time. He wants you to hold him but he can’t tell you he’s breaking because of you and not because of the woman he left behind. He didn’t think that all the wrong decisions he made months ago would catch up to him this soon.

“How about you, are you feeling better? Physically and otherwise?”

You’re quite unsure how to answer. On one hand, there’s the looming thought of Namjoon that you’ve been questioning again since your brother brought it up last night. And then there’s him, the man you’re married to, and where it would leave you now that he’s no longer with Seri.

What about the plans of divorcing? Who would you both run to now when he’s single and you’re not quite sure where you stand in Namjoon’s life? Do you even want to divorce with Jin? Are you mistaking this feeling of comfort and freedom for something that’s natural, or something that really isn’t? You have a habit of seeing something that isn’t there anyway, according to Hoseok. What makes this any different?

“A little,” you settle for that. “My brother and I were just talking about Namjoon and stuff and he agrees that I do need to talk with him soon and see how things will be for us moving forward.”

“Do you think you two would work out?” Jin nervously asks.

“There’s a kind of love that you just can’t shake off,” you sigh. “It’s consuming in a way and sometimes all you need is that one moment when you’re given a choice and then the decision is clear as day, like a coin flip - you know what you want the moment it’s up in the air. Like sometimes I think back to him asking me to run away with him was his moment of telling me he still wanted me, you know? But that’s what I choose to believe even if my brother or Jungkook thinks otherwise. There could still be a chance for me and Namjoon, I think; it just depends on what and how.”

You hope you’re being vague enough. You’re not in the business of dumping all your feelings and emotions about him to Jin when he’s the one in pain right now.

Jin, on the other hand, breaks even more. But he manages a smile that seems enough to assure you. And you both leave it at that. There’s him, hoping for you, and there’s you, hoping for someone else.

You remove your coat and hang it in the locker room of the lab where one of the teams is finalizing the recipes for the company’s new line of plant-based “meatballs” to cater to a wider market. You’ve been working on this with them, as Kim Foods Inc. aims to expand its clientele through various ways - one is through the fusion of other flavors, and another is through healthier options.

There’s even a collaboration project with a vegan vlogger coming up, something you and Seokjin worked on after that one night you were on social media for fun, and your teams have been in contact with her for a while. There are lots of things happening and there’s that giddy feeling of how food just excites you. You could even say that the trip to France intensified that feeling, as you and Jin found yourselves exploring alleys and still being surprised with the new flavors and presentations of the dishes you discovered.

You’ve got a lot on your mind, as you have to go through the reports and presentations of the different teams when Jimin spams your group chat and asks to meet everyone for lunch in an hour.

“Work gossip,” he says, “and I need all of you there.”

You meet him in a nearby cafe with Jungkook, who literally just got out of bed, and Dara, who truly looks like a different person because the research institute she works at has a strict dress code.

“So what’s the gossip that Kook and I, who do not work in your company, somehow may be interested in?” She asks.

“Seri turned in her resignation today,” Jimin says.

“What!” All 3 of you whisper-yell.

“And she’s using her leaves so she’ll be at the office for just a couple of days until she’s gone for good,” Jimin continues then turns to you. “What happened? Did you scare her off or something?”

“Yah!” You smack his arm, frowning at his accusation. “Of course not! But uh, maybe it has something to do with their breakup.”

“They broke up?!” The 3 of them whisper-yell this time, and you flick each of their foreheads for being too loud.

“Yeah, uh, just last Saturday,” you sigh. “I didn’t wanna say anything yet since Jin was a little vague about it but I didn’t think it would lead to her resigning. She’s been in the company for over 5 years.”

“So? People her age don’t usually stay in one place for that long anyway,” Dara says, turning to Jimin now. “But do you know why? Does it have anything to do with the breakup? Do you think it has anything to do with the breakup?”

“I would assume yes?” Jimin shrugs. “ l mean, I’m sure it was hard to see her boyfriend with his wife, especially after VP Kim’s wedding. Our friend over here and Mr. President looked like a happy couple. I’d be intimidated if I were her.”

“Thanks for acting like I’m not here,” you frown. “But wait, how did you even know?”

“___, it’s like you and Jimin didn’t become best friends because he’s the company flirt,” Jungkook laughs, and you nod because it’s true.

“Correction, I’m the company flirt and company matchmaker and company best friend. Everybody goes to me for anything and everything. That's why I initially doubted that Jin-Seri thing because nobody knew, including me,” he explains. “But anyway, Aecha’s from their team and we’re buddies whenever Sales has its monthly meeting with the VP’s management support and she told me. But she doesn’t know why. Apparently, all Seri said was that it was ‘time to move on.’”

“Well, if they broke up then that’s probably why,” Dara says. “What did Jin say?”

“He just said something came up on her end and that he’s been busy but shit, I hope it’s not because of me,” you groan, covering your face with your hands. “I tried to be so careful during the wedding but she’d like, just be there. There was even a time when someone was saying how good Jin and I looked together and for sure, Seri heard it.”

“Hey, why are you the one stressing about it?” Jungkook nudges your knee. “Of course you had to be all couple-y with him. There were hundreds of guests there; it’d look shady if you weren’t. And did you ever think that maybe she’s the one going after you both that night? Like, taking the knife herself and stabbing her heart! Sometimes people want it to hurt all at once rather than slowly, you know?”

“I don’t know her enough for that,” you sigh. “What if I talk to her and ask? Just to make sure it wasn’t because of me.”

“No, that’s the second stupid decision you’re making if you really do it,” Jimin scolds. “The first was letting him keep her, obviously. ___, just stay out of it, that’s their issue. It’d just be sus since you and Seri never interacted like, the VP’s office doesn’t have much to do with product development.”

Obviously, he makes a lot of sense. You just want to clarify things with her just in case, although you’re also not quite sure what that would do.

“Also, if you do talk to her and she says it has something to do with you, what would you do?” Dara counters. “It’s not like you can do anything. Plus, Jimin’s right, we were all there. You and Jin looked like the happy couple you’re supposed to be. I’d have a hard time believing you were faking it, if you even were.”

Your friends are right. It’s not your place. It would just cause more drama if you spoke to her, so you do the most sound thing - ask your husband instead.

You’re jittery all throughout the afternoon after lunch. Jin has multiple meetings and you learn he’d be free by 5PM, so you enter his room and not mind that Yoongi is there, too. You know that your husband has been confiding in him and if anything, he might even know.

“Hey, do you want to grab dinner tonight? I’m suddenly craving some—”

“Is it because of me? Why she’s resigning?” You interject, wanting to know right away. “Did I make her feel uncomfortable during the wedding? Was it something I did? Maybe I said something that—”

“___, where is this coming from? Why are you worrying about this?” Jin frowns.

“Because it can’t be a coincidence that you both break up and then she resigns right away, unless it was a bad breakup and in that case, you were probably hurting more than you led on and are probably hurting more now and—”

“___, look at me,” he says, cupping your cheeks so you’d calm down. “That was her decision, okay? No one made her do it.”

“Then why did she? I hate to think it was because of me, I mean—”

“It was her parents,” Jin blurts, and Yoongi’s eyes widen in shock and anger behind you where you don’t see. “I mean, she had to go home to Ulsan and take care of them, that’s why she had to resign.”

It’s one of the biggest lies he’s ever made and he’s making it to you.

“Is that why you had to break up?”

“Uh, partly. I mean,” he glances at Yoongi who’s already shaking his head to not make things worse but Jin can’t turn back from this, so he continues. “It’s been hard either way since I’ve been busier and, yeah. We can’t really do long-distance with our situation so… that’s why.”

“Ah, shit. I was so worried. I didn’t want her to feel bad after the wedding because of how we looked,” you breathe a sigh of relief. “I kept thinking when I found out from Jimin that she resigned because of me, that you guys broke up because of me and I can’t have that, I won’t be able to stomach that.”

Jin can’t hate himself any more than he does right now, but one thing he realized that he can’t stomach is seeing you stressed and anxious about it. He doesn’t want you to blame yourself; he realizes it’s how he always felt. His initial reaction when it comes to you is to calm you down, to make sure you breathe, to make sure you’re able to just live and enjoy without worries. That’s what he wants for you. That’s what he wants with you, and if he needs to burden himself right now so you don’t, then he will.

“You’re okay, it’s okay,” he assures you, hugging you because he needs the comfort, too, especially with Yoongi’s look of disapproval that’s burning him to the core.

But you hug back, tightly even, completely forgetting that his secretary is there witnessing this display of affection, that is, until he clears his throat.

“Oops, sorry. This hugging thing is new,” you try to explain, although you’re unsure why.

“Are you embarrassed?!” Jin makes light of it.

“I’m embarrassed for Yoongi, actually,” you chuckle, but don’t think much of his stoic expression. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure. So, uh, are we still good for dinner? What did you say you’re craving?”

“Curry,” Jin responds. “And, yeah. We can head out at 7, is that okay?”

“Sure! I’ll see you here, then. Bye!”

You leave a completely flustered Jin in your wake who collapses on his seat when the door closes.

“You fucking messed up,” Yoongi says, and it’s the curse word that he rarerly says that lets Jin know he’s done the worst possible thing - lie to you, and brush this whole thing under the rug only because he’s scared of what he feels, of what wanting you means, and not being with you at the end of the day because of it.

It’s on the way home later that evening after dinner when Jin tells you that he’ll be heading to Japan for a few days.

“Work?” You turn to him, confused.

You checked your shared calendar earlier, which has actually been very helpful, and he didn’t seem to have any trips coming up.

“Partly. I’ll get some work done but it’s more of a leisure thing” he says. “I like to do that on my own, remember?”

“Right, and just walk around and eat whatever you see. It’s a relaxing thing, you said,” you smile. “Golfing and fishing not doing it for you?”

“Nah, I… I just need to be away for a bit.”

He hopes you don’t think he’s pushing you away. He doesn’t want to, but after you left his office earlier, he shared the most intimidating and most silent 5 minutes of his life with Yoongi, who basically expressed his sheer disappointment with a burning look.

“I just told you not to screw it up, and what the fuck did you do?” His friend had said. “What if the lie comes back to bite you? You kept saying that you haven’t been fair to Seri, and now lying about why she resigned is fair? Make it make sense, Jin. You’ve never been this messed up.”

And it was true. Jin isn’t used to this. He had one serious girlfriend who left him and he never dared to try again. The dating scene isn’t his thing; he’s somewhat lucky that Seri even took an interest way beyond his looks and his money. In fact, if he didn’t have those, he doesn’t think he’d even get a conversation going that isn’t about business or the stock market.

But more than the socializing, it’s the basic management of emotions and issues that he seems to suck the most at. He tried and failed at those things; now, he’s a 35-year old man who can’t seem to say the right things and who can’t seem to make the right decisions. You both lied to his family, and now he’s lying to you, when it’s his feelings for you that got him deeper in this web of lies he finds himself in.

“What are you gonna do?” Yoongi had asked.

“I don’t know. I need space to figure it out,” Jin replied. “I need time to lessen the anger I have for myself. Maybe if I leave for a bit, I won’t be so tempted to tell ___ everything.”

“But isn’t that what you need to do? Tell her everything? How do you think you’re going to resolve this? By staying away?”

“She doesn’t want me, Yoongi,” Jin almost banged his head on his desk. “She’s still in love with Namjoon; she’s waiting for him to come back. Or ask her to run away again, I don’t know. But she doesn’t want me and I want to be with her. So where does that leave me?”

“I don’t know, but definitely not where you are right now, because where you are is a mess, Jin.”

He’d never agreed with his friend more, but honestly, Jin doesn’t know what else to do but to just stay away for a bit. All he wants is to hold you, to be held by you, but he can’t ask that of you without making you feel like some rebound. He knows you’d comfort him however you think you need to, and he wants that, but he can’t fall into it knowing that you don’t want the same thing, that it wouldn’t mean the same as it would mean to him.

“I understand.” Your voice takes him out of his thoughts. “I’m sure you need time to just get away and get over things, move on from them and all.”

“I’ll be back better,” he smiles at you. “I know I had a lot of baggage coming from that relationship and I don’t want to keep carrying it anymore.”

There’s something about the way Jin speaks that’s different, like there’s certainty but something more that you can’t quite pinpoint, even with the tinge of sadness in it, as if he’d wronged you in some way even if you think there’s nothing he should feel sorry about. But he’s been through a break up. Anyone who does is bound to feel all kinds of different emotions that they may not yet fully understand. And you’ll support him in whatever way, even if he’ll be a few hundred miles away.

“So that’s what this trip will be about? Ridding yourself of that baggage?” You ask.

“Yeah, pretty much. I know it’s still an unconventional marriage and you’re still waiting on someone,” he says, his heart aching at the words, especially as you look at him and take it as fact, “but I’m still your husband, and I have a feeling I haven’t been a particularly good one.”

“Don’t be silly,” you scoot closer to him. “You made sure I had an amazing time in France and not once made me feel uncomfortable, especially during the wedding the other week. And you took care of me when I was sick, even if you may have overreacted just a tiny bit,” you chuckle. “I don’t know what your standard of a good husband is, but you’re my standard, all things considered, at least. I mean, you’re my first and only one so far but that still counts.”

“You know, you’re actually pretty good at comforting me,” he teases.

“Oh, please. I make you smile, I make you laugh,” you wink at him. “I make you happy. I’m fucking amazing, Jin.”

You’re both laughing now as you tease and tickle each other until the car stops and you’re back home. He opens the door and helps you out. You both walk up the stairs and stand by your doors, almost unwilling to say good night and separate.

But you do it first.

“You have an early flight. Rest well, and then message me when you get there, okay?”

“I will. You’ll be bombarded with voice messages, that’s for sure.”

You giggle, but he doesn’t miss the sparkle in your eyes. “I’ll be looking forward to them. Good night, Jin.”

He smiles, stopping himself from walking over and hugging you. “Good night, ___.”

It’s been 4 days since Jin left for Japan and he seems to be having fun. He’s been treating your message thread like his personal food blog because of all the photos he’s been sending, complete with restaurant or street market or stall details, description of the plating and the taste, and his rating. Those are pretty much all he’s been sending, as well as voice messages every night just narrating how his day was, as if all he wants to do is talk while you listen and you like it; you like hearing his voice, even if sometimes you can hear him chewing and it’s probably a midnight snack he’s munching on.

It makes you feel close to him and somehow, that saddens you a little because while he talks a lot about his trip, he doesn’t talk about how he’s feeling, and you think that he’s trying to mask or cover up whatever it is that’s underneath with all these food explorations and fun experiences because he doesn’t want to talk about it.

And now he’s away and it’s today when Jimin finally gets you to admit that you’re missing your husband a lot more than you expected you would.

“I don’t know, maybe because I know he’s sad and I’m not there to make him happy or something, you know? That’s normal, right?” You ask your best friend over lunch at a nearby restaurant.

“Hmm, seems like a romantic type of thing,” he shrugs.

“No, it isn’t,” you argue.

“Is it different from how you miss Namjoon?”

You think a little. “Sort of. I mean, Joon isn’t here and he’s not here. Jin isn’t here but he’s here, that sort of thing.”

“Wow, how poetic, ___. Keep that up, you’re becoming like the man who left you and I don’t like it,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Yah!” You smack him. “Take me seriously!”

“I am! You’re the one who’s like, I miss my husband but no, it isn’t a romantic thing,” he mocks you. “I actually have the answer. You miss him differently from how you miss Namjoon because you’ve accepted that man being away; it’s become a fact of life at this point. He belongs out there in the world, in the wild, but you’re here. And you’re missing Jin, your husband, because whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve come to like him being next to you, like, that’s where he belongs.”

You sigh, knowing that Jimin’s right. You hate that all your best friends always make sense. And as per their consensus, you’re supposed to be the smartest one of the bunch.

“Is it so hard to admit that? Why are you being so dramatic?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want him to misinterpret anything,” you pout.

“Is that really it? Or are you afraid that if you do so much as show affection that isn’t for show anymore, it might actually feel right? And that somehow scares you because why? That’s what I don’t understand. He’s not with Seri anymore. There’s no other person to worry about.”

“Me! I’m who I should be worried about,” you state. “He just got over a breakup.”

“And you think you��ll be a rebound?” Jimin arches his brow. “Now why would that affect you so much if you don’t care that much?”

“Duh, self-respect,” you roll your eyes.

“Okay then. Don’t tell him you miss him, be casual when he gets back, don’t comfort him by hugging him and shit. Easy,” Jimin challenges.

“But I want to hug him! We’re on that level already!” You whine. “And I want to make him his favorite food and maybe watch him play golf or something if it’s gonna relax him.”

“Ugh, where’s Dara to smack you when we need her?”

“Hey!” You pout. “I’m… I don’t know. I don’t think I like him but I miss him, I’m happy when he’s around, I enjoy myself when I’m with him.”

“Maybe you don’t like him yet, or don’t want to admit it or whatever, but you’re at least on that track. And let yourself continue on, why not?” Jimin turns to you, holding your hands this time. “I know you’ll say Namjoon but he’s a distant star at this point, and you don’t know when or if he’ll come back. You have a husband who clearly cares about you. Whatever it is Jin feels, I don’t know, but I don’t think it’d be a long shot to say that he’s on that track, too,” Jimin continues. “And if he isn’t, he’s bound to. He’s free now, ___. Don’t be the one to hold him back from you this time.”

Osaka has always been Jin’s favorite place to go to in Japan. Even if his meetings are mostly in Tokyo, he makes sure to spend at least a day in the port city. He’s been here so many times yet there’s always something new to discover. On this trip alone, he’s gone bar hopping, on market eating sprees, and restaurant tours, allowing his time to absorb and appreciate the dishes to give him the peace he needs.

Merely sending you photos of all he’s been devouring has worked. The nightly voice messages help him process his day without hearing much from you because he knows that hearing you respond to him will make him want to just pack up and go back home.

That’s what he realized he likes the most - not just you, but how you are to him and how he is with you.

When he was still the Vice President, he barely interacted with you; the VP’s office is tasked more with externals after all. As President, he has more involvement with the products, and that means more direct interactions with product research and development, your department. It wasn’t until then when he’d taken notice of you - how you were whenever you engaged with him, and that brilliance and competence, of course. There was always an air of confidence and playfulness, which he thinks is natural to you, and this showed even more when you got married.

You have such passion for life but you also don’t take it too seriously. And that’s how you are with him - you care, but you like to tease him, to make fun of him, to rile him up and make him laugh, and you let him do the same with you. It’s what he misses the most - your jokes, your silly comments, and your reminders for him to eat and to rest well.

And so not giving you a chance to actually talk with him has worked for the most part. It’s the fourth day since he’s been away, and while he’s survived all this time, he still can’t get rid of that crushing feeling of missing you. Being away has helped somehow. He’s becoming a little more forgiving of himself; his conversations with strangers bring to light important things, and there’s Yoongi too, surprisingly.

“Is the trip serving its purpose?” His friend asks over the phone, the only person Jin actually converses with due to work matters.

“I guess. Well, I hate myself less,” Jin admits.

“Yeah, I hate you less, too.”

“Gee, how comforting, Yoongi. I really don’t miss you right now.”

“I do. And I’m sorry for being harsh,” the younger man sighs. “I just hate seeing you like this. I should’ve said something when you and ___ decided on this arrangement and then lied to your family about it. It just didn’t seem right, like, something not good was bound to happen and now you’re here.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“It wasn’t my place.”

“And now it is?” Jin chuckles.

“It still isn't. But I also kind of don’t care because whether I acknowledge it or not, you are my friend, and I don’t want to see you lose ___. I know she makes you happy, and it’s something you haven’t been for a long time.”

“That’s incredibly validating but also incredibly scary,” Jin sighs. “I miss her so much. I keep thinking about her the whole time I’m here. Have you seen her? Is she doing okay?”

“Well, you asked me to pick her up from work everyday so yes, I do. And she’s fine. She asks about you a lot. Kinda weird for your wife to be asking me, your secretary, how you’re doing. Don’t you talk to her?”

“I send her voice messages but I don’t talk with her,” Jin explains. “A stupid part of me thought that maybe out here, I could sort of feel less for her but no, I don’t. And speaking with her will just make all the feelings even more real.”

“Well, are you gonna come home soon, at least? I doubt that feeling less for her is going to work.”

“I’ll probably be here for another few days,” Jin says. I–”

Jin checks his phone to see you calling. It’s the first time you even tried, as you’ve been quite busy at work, too, and you aren't even the texting and calling type.

“Wait, she’s calling. I’ll call you back.”

Jin picks up the phone after a few rings. “___, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it is. How about you? You good?” You answer.

“Everything’s okay and yes, I’m good. I’m full every day and I’m really enjoying just going around.”

“You’re coming back, right?”

There’s a tremble in your voice that makes him worry, especially as you ask the question again. There’s fear in there, and nervousness. You’ve been waiting for a man to come back to you and now Jin is the one who’s away, not calling, not bothering to talk with you, and he hates that in his desire to make sense of his feelings so he won’t make any more mistakes, he does just that.

“Of course, I am,” he says, trying his best to assure you, but his panic sets in, as he doesn't want you to think that there’s a reason why he doesn’t want to be next to you.

“Okay, good,” you sigh in relief. “I just wanted to make sure. And uh, imissyoukbye!”

You hang up and Jin suddenly feels dizzy. Did you just… say you miss him and then hang up?

He feels his ears heat up and a smile graces his face. He calls Yoongi right after.

“I’m leaving tonight. I’ll send you my flight details. Have me picked up at the airport. Bye!”

It’s 1AM by the time Jin arrives home. He’s quite exhausted; he woke up early today for a trek and went from one market to another. The earliest flight tonight only had economy seats and he took it, and it felt so uncomfortable for his long legs that he barely got to sleep.

But whatever he had to do, he did, because he wanted to get home to you right away. He couldn’t get that sound of your voice off his head, as if you were worried that he wasn’t going to go back, even if that was impossible.

But he gets it. He’s been left behind before and that feeling stayed with him. It’s why he never took anyone after his ex seriously because he was scared he’d be left again so he’s usually the one who leaves, and that’s similar to what you’re feeling with Namjoon, and Jin hates to think that even for the briefest moment, you thought that he wasn’t gonna come back, too.

He’s here now, though, and he gathers the confidence to knock on your door and gently open it to see if you’re still awake.

He’s surprised to see that you still are, tucked under the covers while a baseball game is playing on mute. That’s his thing, but he supposes at some point, you’d be taking up each other’s habits, too.

You’re alerted by his presence when you hear him calling you, and you turn to him with surprised yet questioning eyes at his arrival.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming home tonight,” you say, sitting up. “How was your flight?”

“Good, and well, I wasn’t supposed to come home until this weekend but uh, I just decided a few hours ago that I should.”

“What? Why?”

He thinks if he couldn’t be honest then, then he should be now.

“You said you missed me and I did, too,” he says shyly, looking away.

You think it’s absolutely adorable; you just want to squish his bread cheeks until you’ve milked the cuteness out of them.

“So, uh, all you needed was my embarrassing declaration, huh?” You nudge his knee, as he’s now seated on the edge of your bed. “You should’ve told me, I should’ve said it sooner.”

Jin laughs and covers your face with his large hand, trying to keep you from seeing him flustered.

“Anyway, why are you still awake? And watching baseball on mute?”

You shrug. “Couldn’t really sleep. And I was waiting for your voice message.”

“Well I’m here now,” he smiles. “What if I wash up first and then stay with you until you fall asleep?”

You nod and smile. “Sounds good.”

Jin takes a shower and returns to your room with an empty space next to you. He lies down and turns to his side to face you, smiling and looking satisfied.

“I’ve been away for days before. Why are you missing me now?” He asks.

“Yah, don’t let it get to your head,” you playfully smack his arm. “Also, do remember that the last time you were away, which wasn’t long ago, you came back to me being confined in the hospital so…”

“So it means that you kinda lose your shit when I’m not around? Is that what you’re trying to say?” He chuckles.

“You’re annoying, you know?” You flick his forehead. “But it’s just different, I guess. This wasn’t for some work thing. You left because you were sad. And that made me worry a lot about how you’re feeling, if you’re less sad than the day before, if you’re able to find what you’re looking for, so that uh, I’ll know if you’ll be staying longer or not.”

There’s that sadness again, and the more he knows about you and Namjoon, the more it makes sense to him. That fear of being left behind, of hoping and being disappointed - that doesn’t go away.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t calling,” he sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s okay, you’re more bearable when you send voice messages because then I can just pause you.”

“Yah!” He whines, lightly pulling that same strand of hair. “I was about to say you’re being sweet for worrying about me.”

“I’m kidding,” you laugh again. “You don’t have to apologize since I don’t like calls either. But the voice messages are fun since I can play them over and over again and just laugh at how dramatic you are sometimes.”

“I’m glad I get to make you laugh, then.”

“You do, and I know I make you laugh, too, so I’ll go ahead and believe that you missed me as well, otherwise you wouldn’t be home right now,” you say, your heart surprisingly beating hard.

“Okay, Ms. Know-It-All,” he grins. “I missed you, too. So can we sleep now?”

You nod and pull the covers over both of you. The space in between is still there, but it also seems like there isn’t any. With your hand over his, you wish that the littlest of comfort you can give him will be enough.

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