#goddamn will they EVER let each other finish a sentence.???

[heartbrake-hotel]

Lordy honey yall makin me wanna write my own damn prompt. I got some more little tidbits for ya:

Elvis was turned during his first appearance at the International. But who turned him? I'm thinking there's some sort of deal going on between one the old vampires who invested in the building, maybe even the International's owner and Colonel Parker. They want Elvis to play there for as long as possible, and he isn't getting any younger--so they make it so he can't get any older, either.

At first Elvis is in a state of confusion, because fledglings (at least in my thoughts) are in a sort of fog when first turned. It helps them to adapt to feeding; cue Colonel Parker shoving cigarette girls into Elvis's suite, which he drains dry, much to his own horror when the initial feeding frenzy lifts.

And Colonel Parker isn't exactly picky with what he feeds Elvis: whoever is easy to get up into the suite, and high young girls are the easiest. Elvis tries, when he can afford it, to not feed--he doesn't know that if he drinks regularly then the frenzy won't come, but nobody has told him much of anything. His Sire isn't there, there wasn't any sort of ritual to his Turning as there normally is. No, this was just business.

aLRIGHT WOOHOO SMITTY MY LOVE LOOK AT US !!! im finally getting to this lmaoooo oOOPS 🙈 AND i have some mf THOUGHTS,,

(the orig hc post is here btw) ((idk if yall could tell but it Wrecked my Shit))

also it's been Sooooo long since we discussed this that u now have some Other relevant supernatural!au lore to pull from . so,, i hope u don't mind if i conflate the two universes a lil but ur worldbuilding in you ain't nothin' but a overtook my conscious mind weeks ago and has yet to relent 💝 oh nooooo.. whatever shall i dooooo.. 😏

far too many words under the cut. i, uh.. i may have lost control a lil 🤭🦇 ft. a frankly excessive use of pet names and an e who has been babygirlified maybe more than is appropriate within the confines of the plot (shocking, i'm sure).

right ok so !! vegas as a hub for at least some of the supernatural bc of its transient nature, high tourist volume, and seedy reputation. obvious check

for the most part, unaffiliated vamps stay out of vegas. like you said- it's too hard to monitor their blood concentrations when everyone and their dog is doing truckloads of party drugs well into the night.! but there are, of course, some Old Ones, who saw (or perhaps even built??) the city as their own personal playground btw this blends so seamlessly into the irl high-level mob ties its crazy lmao. marina's bringing up elvis is literally never not on my mind 🙏

if you're rich enough, or powerful enough (or have friends who are enough so), you don't have to fend for yourself the same way, so it's less of an issue. sucking out some rando party girl off the street is faaar beneath the pay grade of the handful of guys at the top, who have their meals carefully cultivated and hand-procured thru what is almost certainly a human trafficking ring

kirk kerkorian [or meyer kohn - u can pick ur universe, here] and the entire board of the international is of course among this group, exerting their power and influence (and perhaps Compulsion) to keep the flow of money running smoothly from the casinos below directly into their cash-lined pockets.

colonel tom parker [a demon again? or perhaps nobody in particular - either way he ends up hellspawn lmao whether literally or figuratively] is acutely aware of this when he first signs elvis on for the hotel's opening season - how could he not be? and of course everything goes perfectly smoothly for those first six weeks in 1969. **ik im twisting ur original idea just a tad but bear w me

but the longer the engagement goes, the more trouble colonel has reining elvis in. he had agreed heartily to those first fifty-eight appearances - purely to fund his upcoming world tour, you understand ("the snowman strikes again!"). but no matter how much colonel wheedles, he's not budging; elvis simply will not sign on for the next year.! he's finally holding his ground... and that's his undoing

coming off the back of his comeback special and last movie, e finally feels like he's got his mojo workin' - the king is back on top! after a looong decade stuffed fit to bursting with his botched movie career, he never thought he'd wrest any semblance of creative control away from the powers that be. but the last year or so has really made him see the value of his own opinion, AND the dangers of continued complacency. so with the backing of his family and extended entourage, he's heading halfway across the world just as soon as he gets off that stage for the last time.

colonel can't have that, not with the remainder of his hefty personal debt hanging in the balance. and with all the dough the hotel is raking in during the first dregs of their opening season, nobody up top wants their prize little cash cow flying away to london or japan or the rock of eternity or wherever he's fixin' to go - not if they have anything to say about it !

and so a plan is devised, swiftly, mercilessly, and without any pesky sense of remorse. after all, what do they have to feel bad about? they're just taking care of business

just after elvis' last performance, he's heading to his packed-up suite to shower and change for what he thinks will be the last time.. the boys are downstairs getting the last of the stuff in the cars and then they'll all head to the airport. he's got just a couple minutes to spare, and he assures them he'll be fine alone. just gonna run on up and change real quick, y'all don't needta worry about me none. [*evil colonel voice* wanna bet?]

he steps into his unusually empty suite, but before he can even shuck the towel from around his neck, his throat is being wrenched to the side in a vice grip as an unseen assailant steps from their hiding spot behind the door. he yelps, tries to throw them off, goes for the gun in his boot, but their grip is like steel, solid and unyielding, and before he can move much of anywhere there's a sharp prick in his neck and a sudden heaviness in his muscles he can't quite shake.

he assumes it's a syringe - he's not wholly unfamiliar with a needle, after all, and why would he suspect anything else? he guesses he's been drugged on account of... well, on account of bein' elvis presley. goddamn sonsabitches don't need any more reason than that. 'course, the sensation is a little different than he's used to - the gauge is unfamiliar, and he could swear he feels two distinct track marks - but by then his head is spinning too much to be certain of anything.

the last thing he feels is a rushing sense of complacency as his legs give out. his vision is swimming too much too see his attacker's face, but they let him go down, hard, and he crumples to an undignified heap on the floor helplessly as they turn to... leave? huh. not what he expected, but he supposes beggars can't be choosers

his sluggishly disjointed musings are broken only by the shadowy figure melting back into the shadows... his increasingly-addled mind knows he should be glad at their sudden departure, but all he can concentrate on is the inexplicable swing out of the vague sense of euphoria that had been the "drugs" kicking in, and a sudden accompanying feeling that he didn't like one bit. he could only describe it as a crawling fear, an absence, a kind of ripping deep in his soul... a pervasive sense of distance, of wrongness so festering he feared it was about to tear him apart from the inside out. he's suddenly certain he's not meant to be alone right now.

he gasps in the worst pain he's ever felt, and at the same moment, he's aware of a rush of footsteps in the hallway outside - he barely manages a wobbly gesture to the door and a slurred request to rip his goddamn tongue out b'the roots to the panicked faces of his boys crowding around his supine form before his vision finally goes dark.

when he wakes up, he's in an all-too-familiar bed. before running for the doctor and his daddy, a frazzled jerry sitting vigil at his side hurriedly explains that without him conscious enough to fill them in, all they knew is he wasn't fit to travel, so they'd unpacked his suite again while waiting for him to return to the land of the living. he's grateful, but assures him that as soon as he's feeling better they'll be heading out again.

he asks jerry to turn down the thermostat and flip off the light on his way out. the heavily-drawn drapes had already ensured it'd been near-pitch dark and freezing, just how he liked it, but he murmured it felt like he was burnin' up from the inside out, and his eyes were too sensitive for even the ambient glow of his bedside lamp. jerry does so and also fetches him a pair of big ol' sunglasses, without a word.

the doctors (who'd been summoned to the hotel; despite protests from the mafia, colonel had suggested that moving elvis to a hospital could be even more dangerous, what with this criminal still on the loose, and vernon had reluctantly agreed) hadn't been able to tell what he'd been dosed with - it'd metabolized too quickly to detect, apparently. all they can tell him after the last four days of monitoring his comatose form is that his vitals have been almost astonishingly strong. the only symptom he's had has been a high fever, but it breaks as soon as he's awake again- and actually, his body temp has overcorrected and is a little low now, is he feeling chilly?

they joke that whatever he'd been given seems to have actually helped him, and he's inclined to agree... despite the fact that they hadn't administered anything to him except an IV drip, in case it had any adverse interactions with whatever he'd been on, his chronic pain has mysteriously vanished. and since he's been awake and in recovery, he's only seemed to get more handsome and charming, no sign at all of being out of it and on fluids for so long. you sure wouldn't have known his recent predicament by looking at him !

he's got a host of baffling new symptoms as well, but nothing that seems dangerous or that points to any kind of diagnosis. he's growing increasingly thirsty, but the buckets of water he's drinking aren't quenching him. he seems to have lost his sense of taste (this one hits him the worst) - at first, the smell of food made him nauseous. now he can keep it down, but it feels like ash in his mouth. his light sensitivity lingers, though for the most part it's limited to natural light, and he takes to wearing the sunglasses often. he seems to have developed a sudden allergy to some of his jewelry - his silver rings and pendants now cause a burning rash. he has them remade in gold and doesn't give it a second thought.

he tells and retells his story to the cops, but they're left scratching their heads; it's widely assumed the panicked arrival of the mafia scared off the creep before they could pull off the rest of their plan. kill him, kidnap him for ransom... seemed like they'd never know for sure, but either way everyone agrees he narrowly escaped a much worse fate. colonel doesn't think it wise for him to be on the road, what with this continued threat hanging over his head, but jerry argues it doesn't seem any better to stay in vegas with this freak at large. and elvis points out that if the bastard follows him overseas, they have bigger fish to fry.

the boys seem confused that the attack doesn't appear to have played into his usual paranoia in any way; he doesn't know quite how to explain it, he tells them, but he feels stronger, somehow. more settled. like if it ever came to it again, he could handle himself. it might just be relieved cockiness, but what didn't kill him made it so he's at least not afraid again. he's been reflecting deeply on psalm 23, apparently.

and so the suite is once again packed up, despite colonel's protestations- this time with elvis under constant supervision, much to his good-natured amusement. it goes without incident, and they make it all the way to the runway before elvis is suddenly doubled over in pain in the back of the limo, sweating and shaking like a leaf.

he's groaning that it hurts, hurts s'bad, but can't say anything more than that, and within seconds the whole caravan has whipped around and is careening back to the relative safety of the hotel. by the time he's being ferried hurriedly up to his room, he's improving steadily, and by the time he's settled in bed and the doctors once more fetched, he's weak and badly shaken but seems no worse for wear.

the doctors can't explain this apparent relapse any more than the first, but tentatively give him a clean bill of health, and two days later they try it all again. this time he makes it within a couple miles of the airport, and it takes him four days to recover. the last time they try, he only makes it four blocks away from the Strip and is bedridden for a week. nobody has any sort of explanation, and the tour is put on hold indefinitely while they're seemingly stranded.

the colonel is the one who offers a possible solution. he'd been hovering around elvis' room the whole time (like a bad smell, sonny mutters when he's out of earshot), fluttering around with assurances that the hotel would gladly host them as long as they needed, maybe even sign them on for another season if elvis so wished...

when elvis finally roars that he just wants OUT of this place, goddammit in response to vernon's suggestion that he stop working himself up with leaving, colonel finally pounces.

he must put his foot down, he says. his boy is clearly in no condition to travel- no, no, not physically, he hastily amends, when elvis opens his mouth to remind him what the doctors said, but clearly mentally. something about the attack has left him emotionally unstable, it appears, and the idea of leaving, even though he's so sure he wants to, is clearly triggering some kind of psychosomatic attack. why doesn't he make up his mind to stay- not forever, just until his head is screwed on right. he can keep playing the international, and they can find him some head-shrinkers to fix him right up, eh? elvis doesn't see any choice but to glumly agree.

of course, unbeknownst to elvis, the real issue is that his Maker won't allow him to leave vegas city limits. he's been kept totally in the dark as to his situation and is thus totally suggestible, so when the vampire who Turned him (continually employed by the Ancients for just this kind of dirty work) uses their mental connection to Compel him to stay within a certain radius, elvis doesn't even know he's feeling it, much less that it's possible to fight it. his Bat simply obeys without question, to the confusion of his body and conscious mind.

if his Turning had been accompanied by proper ritual, if his Maker had explained any of his new life to him, if he'd received any guidance at all, he'd know he could override this instinct, break the Bond they shared (especially as ill-cultivated as it is), and be on his way. as it is, he's like a dog with a newly-installed invisible fence. a dog who's also growing steadily weaker since his Turning because of his lack of sustenance, mind you.

the colonel knows all this. he also knows that any doctors or psychiatrists that see elvis from this point on will be in the know, be provided by the hotel, and be payed handsomely to tell elvis exactly what the colonel wants him to hear. he send word to the Council that they've got him at last. they rejoice at the prospect of chaining elvis to their stage for an eternity, elvis begrudgingly signs the contract for another engagement, and this is where the real trouble starts...

it's been three weeks since he was inadvertently Turned, and elvis is feeling the affects of not having Fed, though he doesn't realize it. he's weak, he's thirsty, he's snappish, and can somebody turn off those godDAMNED lights !!! the mafia assume it's due to his mental slump and are at a loss except to wait it out, but the colonel thinks he has something to cheer him up. he winks and tells red that elvis will have a few, ehem.. lady visitors tonight, and surely they shouldn't be disturbed. the boys get the hint.

colonel sends up the ditziest cigarette girl he can find downstairs, a perky little blonde, so doped-up out of her mind she's wobbling in her heels. she gasped and flushed darkly when he told her that mr. presley was in need of her services; he hadn't even needed to slip her any cash to incentivize her troubles. he chomped on his cigar and grinned darkly as he watched her giggle her way to the elevator.

elvis, for his part, almost makes it. he'd answered the rhythmic little knock in his robe, loosely tied, and didn't miss the way the sweet young thing at his door gaped at the sight of all that chest on display. before he can even say anything, she's slipped under his arm and further into the room, and he raises an eyebrow and grins as he eases the door shut. he peruses her wares (the CIGARETTES !! im talking about the cigarettes..) more for show than anything else, and hands her a $20 in exchange for a pack he doesn't plan on smoking, telling her to keep the change.

she bends over far more than necessary while stacking boxes back in her tray, and flutters her lashes when she asks him if there's... anything else she can get him. flattered as he is, he tells her, he isn't sure he needs anything just now, but thank you kindly anyways, honey. truthfully, he's not sure he's feeling up for it, but she pouts so prettily as she swings her hips sadly over to the door, and turns back to ask if he's really really sure... the colonel had sent her up with express instructions to give him anything he wanted, she explains, sultry little whine in her voice, and he finds his resolve crumbling.

surely a little kissing wouldn't hurt, he reasons, might even make him feel a lil better, and her eyes light up in glee when he beckons her back over. but the minute she's in his arms, easing her way up to his lips as her eyes flutter shut, he isn't sure what comes over him. they're so close her heartbeat rushes in his ears, and without a thought he's effortlessly snapped her neck (with strength he didn't know he had) and is lapping frantically from her torn throat (pierced with the aid of sharp fangs he's never felt before). she never even saw it coming.

he moans as he sags to the ground, clutching her limp form and still slurping desperately as, for the first time since his attack, his thirst is quenched. he dimly realizes he's done something unforgivable, but his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, everything around him distant and foggy. the sense of panic he knows he should be feeling is a far-off twinge, all but muted by the combined cocktail of ecstasy running through him: fresh blood, dope, and a brain fog he can't quite attribute to either.

when she's dry he's sated, the sense of woozy relief hits him so strong that he barely manages to stagger to his feet and stumble over to the couch, chin and hands still covered in blood, before he's passing out for ten hours of the emptiest sleep he's ever had. when he wakes up, all traces of what happened are gone, and with a mind that finally feels clearer than it has for weeks, he almost manages to convince himself it was an incredibly fucked-up dream, so potent that the sweet metallic tang is still blooming on his tongue...

...until of course, the next time it happens. it goes much the same way: the colonel has no trouble locating a girl who'll never be missed- this is vegas, after all- and sends her, high as a kite of her own volition, up to the penthouse to keep company with a disgruntled and starving elvis. he drains her dry before he can even blink, but stays awake this time to spend the next few hours totally blissed out in an uncomfortably drugged haze. the more he comes down, the more he hates not only what he's done but also the way it makes him feel.

thus starts a vicious cycle: elvis, terrified of feeding, swears off blood, until he's half-starved but fighting himself at every turn. the colonel intervenes, sending throngs of low-risk girls up to the suite, where e simply can't help himself anymore, and enters a violent blood-crazed frenzy. he spends the hours after staggering around half-lucid, waiting for the effects to fade so he can convince himself he'll never do it again.

the stronger he maintains his tenuous mental fortitude- the longer he goes between feeds- the more girls he needs in a night to fill him up, and the higher he gets afterwards. he doesn't ask where colonel finds them or what he does with the bodies. he thinks dully that he doesn't much want to know.. it's hard enough on his conscience already.

of course, yet another thing nobody's bothered to explain to poor frightened fledgling elvis is that every time he refuses to feed when he should, every time he feels the welling signs of that dark hunger within himself and shoves them down in distress, every time his instincts are forced to take over and quite literally make him feed, that it exacerbates the mental fog he's feeling.

vampiric lore (which of course he doesn't know) attributes it to a sort of easing-in countermeasure; it's only newly-turned vampires, not fully in touch with their desires, that attempt to starve themselves so, clearly suffering from a mental block regarding the morality of preying upon their former species. to smooth their transition into acceptance of their new form, every time they're forced to feed rather than do it willingly, a potent release of hormones and neurotransmitters floods their system, both to combat any lingering guilt and to make them crave the mental release of feeding just as much as the physical.

if he were to feed normally, if he were to provide his body with the nourishment it needed on a regular basis, his instincts wouldn't have to override his mind this way. he wouldn't be forced to feed so violently or so much, he'd be able to control himself such that he could select his own victims preferentially and even bring himself to stop before killing them, and he wouldn't feel so overwhelmed afterwards.

elvis thinks of his... condition as an affliction, a temptation he lacks the strength to overcome, but really, it's his body's desperate attempt to stay alive when his mind insists on thwarting his ongoing survival at every turn. the bloodlust isn't a punishment but a protective measure, and one he could prevent if he'd take consistent care of his new needs.

and on top of all that, the particular way his intake is chemically tainted only adds to this anguish, because now he's unknowingly also developing a dependency on the drugs- the painful withdrawal symptoms of which serve to strongarm him into feeding even more frequently.

things are only exacerbated by his performance engagement starting back up; of course, it's even easier to find girls- hordes of them batter the doors to the showroom after every show, desperate for just another glimpse of him- but it also means he's got a responsibility to be right there on that stage twice a night, able-minded or no, and he takes that very seriously.

he's got people to support, after all, so he gets very used to functioning while highly intoxicated, whether that means performing, schmoozing the high rollers in the casino at the behest of his hotel benefactors, or smiling through a never-ending stream of reporters and photographers during every interview and press conference.

this is where the reader steps in !!!

you're one of less than a handful of vamps, just two or three, really, who manage to stick around vegas (and consume healthy blood) without the influence of the Old Ones, a feat you manage by staying off the Strip almost entirely. you stick to the suburbs, both as a way to ensure you're not tripping out after every meal, and to (hopefully) stay out of sight and out of mind of the powerful Ancients who don't want anyone infringing on their territory. this is very fright night remake vibes btw if anyone remembers that

but there's very little to do in the dusty, sprawling desert neighborhoods that isn't centered around maintaining the tourism industry downtown, especially for an immortal with nothing but time (and the occasional meal) to kill. you're nowhere near as experienced as those you seek to avoid, but you've been around the block quite a few times yourself, and sometimes the neon glow of the city lights overrides the quiet boredom of your safely-maintained little perimeter.

tonight is one such night: elvis presley had been headlining the international hotel for what felt like ages, or maybe just a blink - it was hard to judge that pesky human time, when their lifespans were so much shorter than yours. either way, he'd been this era's answer to jesus for a few decades now, and you had to admit you were curious to see him in person at last.

you decide on the midnight show- maybe if you're lucky, you can scrounge up a snack on the way home. you don't bother with a ticket- though you have more than enough human money stored up over the years, you're sure it's no use for what promises to be a sold-out show. the bouncers aren't any deterrent, either- you simply Compel them into checking the list for your name another time, and they let you in without a murmur. the showroom is packed so full, you notice as you survey the area, that nobody could ever notice one more.

you slip into a vacant seat at the end of one of the long tables that line the stage, with a group of screaming fans who don't seem to notice that they don't know you. you can't tell if their distraction is borne more from excitement or alcohol, but either way, you're grateful for the cover. you order a bloody mary as your own personal joke and bide your time until the show starts, perusing the booths that line the floor behind you. you recognize a few familiar Old Ones, by face if not name- no surprise, considering who runs the casino just outside.

eventually, the lights fade and the orchestra bursts into an opening riff. you clap with the rest when elvis struts out on stage, looking resplendent in a white jumpsuit, grinning wide and boyishly and practically glowing under the stage lights. his rings flash as he waves to the audience, courteous and attentive even as he starts singing. when the song's over he introduces himself and some of the VIPs, including the owner of the hotel (now there's a vamp who's been getting himself a lot of press lately), and the heavyset man next to him, apparently elvis' own manager. the man gives a simpering smile and wave to the crowd as the spotlights illuminate the booth, and you wrinkle your nose as you turn back to the main stage. you haven't placed it yet, but something seems off about that one.

elvis puts on a good show, you'll give him that, but the longer you watch, the more puzzled you become. he's slurring just a bit when he jokes with the band in between numbers, and more clumsy than you'd expect for someone so flexible; you'd say it was just another hollywood star using and abusing drugs if he didn't look so... panicked every time. he's twitchy, too, keeps getting down toward the edge of the stage like he's about to move out into the crowd and start planting kisses on his clamoring fans, like you've heard he does, but he keeps jerking himself back at the last second. they seem to think he's teasing, screaming louder every time, and he plays it off with a slow grin, but it's almost like... like he's afraid he won't be able to control himself, like...

ah. there it is

you zero in on just the barest flash of fang in his smile, and immediately suss out what's going on. elvis presley, a fledgling vamp in what is indisputably the worst city in the world for fledgling vamps... strange things are happening every day, aren't they?

that leaves you with more questions than answers, however... questions like where's his Master? why isn't he feeding properly? who's keeping him half-starved and strung-out? and most importantly, does he even know what's going on?

you narrow your eyes contemplatively as you watch him fool with the microphone before prompting the band to start the next song. all it takes is seeing his hands tremble around the cord to make you nod decisively and shoot back the rest of your drink. you suppose you can stick around a little longer than originally planned... after all, it seemed like elvis might need a little help fixing this, whether he knew it or not.

you lingered just a little after the show ended, waiting until the throngs of frantic women had pushed their way back to the lobby before heading after them yourself. you glanced around surreptitiously, locating the nearest elevator bay... and near it, a familiar older man with a cane whispering furtively to a clearly-tipsy young woman, one you recognized from your table during the show. she had caught a silk scarf fluttering down in front of her from the man himself and hadn't stopped screaming until the lights came back on. bingo

you ran one hand through your hair haphazardly, tousling it slightly as you stumbled your way over to them. "oh, there you are! i was looking for you," you chirped. she gasps and waves excitedly in the earnest way only drunk girls do, but your mouth is open again before she can speak and do something incriminating, like ask your name. "who's y'r friend? s'he coming upstairs with us?" you giggle, leering at... what had his name been again? ah yes, colonel parker. you silently gave a sigh of thanks for your heightened senses- you might not have recognized him just from your brief glimpse during the show otherwise.

the colonel glanced you over dismissively, clearly writing you off as another inebriated fan - his mistake, but exactly what you wanted him to think all the same. he gave you a leering grin and tapped his cane as he said "ah, i was just asking your friend here to do a simple personal favor for me..." you hummed disinterestedly until he continued "...on behalf of mister presley, of course." you gasped exaggeratedly and willed your cheeks to flush- lucky you had fed recently.

he seems to buy it, from the way his eyebrow ticks upwards when he sees your reaction "perhaps you would like to... accompany her to his suite, no?" he teases. you nod raptly, artificial stars in your eyes, and he snorts as he pushes the call elevator button for you with the top of his cane. "top floor. you two enjoy yourselves," he chuckles. the two of you giggle as he saunters away, towards the casino entrance.

as soon as the doors slide shut behind you, you straighten up and tidy your hair in the chromatic reflection until you're once again presentable. you brush off your outfit, fiddling until you're satisfied, then take a deep breath. snapping once to get your lightly confused companion's attention, your turn her shoulders towards you so she's making woozy and bewildered eye contact with you.

"hi honey. having a good night? good. this is how the rest of it is gonna go, ok? now you listen to me-"

when the doors opened again at the thirtieth floor, the girl (tracy. she had told you absently her name was tracy) waved distractedly over her shoulder as she walked straight out of the elevator bay and into the nearby stairwell, head filled with what she believed to be an immutable truth about the elevator being out of service. she'd walk back to her room (on the off chance there was anyone downstairs monitoring the floor indicator dial), wake up perfectly safe in the morning, and think nothing of it.

meanwhile, you let yourself into elvis' suite with the key tracy had handed over, a parting gift from the colonel. you left the lights off, made yourself comfortable on the couch facing the door, and waited.

you didn't have to wait long- just minutes later, there was noise outside, multiple male voices speaking over each other as they all piled out of the elevator and headed for the door, elvis' the loudest. "yeah, yeah, i said i'd meet you down there, didn't i? doin' my damn head in... i'll tell ya what, y'all g'head and i'll call down there when i'm done. yes i swear, now git!" laughter and good-natured ribbing faded as the elevator doors presumably closed behind the crowd once again, punctuated with a sigh and the click of the door lock disengaging another time.

elvis didn't seem to notice you as he walked in, leaving the light off as well as he patted his face dry with the damp towel looped around his neck. he leaned against the wall with one hand to brace himself as he toed off his boots, then whipped his dark shades off onto a side table and gripped the bridge of his nose with another deep sigh.

"are you in any pain, mr. presley?" he yelped in undignified surprise and whipped around with a touch of vampiric speed, dropping the towel in his fright to discover the source of your voice. despite the pitch blackness of the room, his eyes locked onto yours immediately through the dark, without needing to scan the empty space around you- another sign of his transition. no mortal could see as perfectly well in this scenario as the two of you could.

"wh- who-" he stuttered some, regaining his bearings, as you cocked your head in evaluation. "i'm sorry to startle you, mr. presley," you say evenly, but pleasantly. "you can drop that shit straightaway, honey, that's my daddy. can jus' call me elvis." he murmurs absentmindedly, as if it hadn't been what he really intended to say but came out by habit. "and now that you know me, may i ask who you are? and better yet what the hell you're doing in my room?" he doesn't sound angry, per se, more resigned than anything, and you smile wryly in response as you introduce yourself. "real pretty, honey, but i'd like an answer to my other question, too." he raises his eyebrow, and you wonder if he's even aware of how much charismatic mental energy he's leaking right now. it was even more apparent to you now why humans throw themselves at him left and right.

"sorry, m- i mean, elvis. the colonel sent me up. i saw your show- you were fantastic, but i had a couple questions." "he did, did he? just wonderful," he almost growls, squeezing his eyes shut. "and some questions, you said? you a reporter?" his voice sounds hard-edged for the first time tonight, but he seems to relax again when you answer with a simple no. "just concerned, i guess." he hums tiredly at your response, vague though it is. "concerned about what, 'bout the show? i'll do my best to answer your questions, honey, but i really don't think there's all too much to be concerned about-"

"elvis, when was the last time you fed?" you can hear his breath catch from clear across the room. "i-i had lunch after rehearsals, but i ain't had dinner yet, if that's what you're askin'... pretty forward way to ask me on a date, but i-" you put a hand up to cut him off. "i think you know perfectly well that's not what i'm asking, elvis. when was the last time you fed properly? on blood?" "...ha! been watching a little too many dark shadows reruns, honey?" his words trip over themselves getting out, and eventually he gives up to just blink at you, speechless, owl-eyed, and afraid despite his frankly pathetic attempt at a cover. he looks like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar only this time the metaphorical cookie jar is a number of very literal human corpses lol

you bite back a sigh- perhaps you pushed too hard there. poor thing is wringing his hands like he thinks you're gonna put him in cuffs any minute. "maybe we should start over- i'm here to help, ok? i wanna make sure you're alright, cuz i think you might have a lot of questions nobody's explained to you yet. c'mere and sit next to me, baby, and we'll just talk" you pat the seat next to you, flipping his casual pet naming back on him effortlessly. to be fair, he is a baby to you- only, what, a couple months old? that's nothing compared to your few hundred years.

he eyes the spot next to you but shakes his head, still looking like a lost puppy. "n-no, i- m'fine over here," he manages. you furrow your brow; he's gonna need to start trusting you if he wants your help, and this is a bad way to begin. "i promise, i'm not gonna hurt you, elvis-" that sure does it. "i'm not worried about that!" he exclaims. "m'worried about me hurting you!"

you breathe out a surprised little oh, suddenly understanding. "is that what you're so worried about, sweetie? i'm not afraid of you." you try to placate him. "y-you should be afraid of me, honey. i am."

and that's the crux of the matter, isn't it? it breaks your heart a little to know that this is what he's been grappling with alone. it's not meant to be like this- with time and acceptance, he was meant to gain eternal companionship (your semi-loner status nonwithstanding). and whoever heard of a scared vampire?

but you put that aside to focus on elvis- and quickly realize there's one more... little thing you might've left out.

"you don't need to be anymore, ok? i'm gonna help you learn to control it." you beckon him over again, and this time he makes it halfway across the floor before you realize you're not sure if you're Compelling him or not. he'll need to learn what it feels like eventually, in order to both use it and combat it, but now's probably not the time. you break eye contact, just in case, and he falters slightly, but keeps coming, putting you at ease.

as he gets close enough to hear your heartbeat, though, his eyes suddenly turn frantic, and he backpedals, once again in the grip of that familiar terror. "you- you have to get out of here, i can't-" you shush him, not unkindly. "oh, sweetheart. that one's my bad, ok? i guess i haven't been very good at this so far," you grin apologetically. "but you couldn't hurt me, even if you tried"

you use your superspeed to whoosh over to his side and back, the only sign you'd moved at all the slight sway of your hair in the breeze it creates- and the golden ankh pendant now swinging from your upturned palm. elvis gapes, hands reaching up to feel the now-empty space around his neck where the necklace rested just moments ago. "how...?" listen i really can't be assed abt the fact he wasn't wearing necklaces this early ok. it was a cool move

"forgot to tell you - i'm souped up, too." you wink at him, flashing your pupils the deep red they turn when you're Feeding. "and also i think a little stronger than you, given what i saw on stage tonight." this is soo cliche im sorry but Spooky Eyes HAWT. i don't feel bad about it actually

the immediate sense of overwhelming relief on his face almost aches to see, and he's crossed the remaining stretch of floor to practically collapse in your arms sobbing before you can blink. it's... very surprising, you'll admit, but not unwelcome, either, and you're sure the uncertainty lingers in your voice as you gentle him softly, petting his hair and rubbing his back and trying not to overthink the fact that you've known elvis presley for all of ten minutes and now... this is happening. whatever this is.

"woah- woah, hey, what's happening? what's the matter, baby?" he's shaking like a leaf as you hold him, trying to work out in what universe this makes sense. "i-i-i ain't-" he manages through tears. "i haven't been able to touch any-anyone this whole time without b-being so goddamned afraid i'd hurt 'em... and i just- i..."

your worst fears for him, first materialized as you watched him onstage and puzzled about the identity of his Master, are confirmed. "baby... have you been alone this whole time?" you whisper. he just nods from his resting place, face buried in your shoulder. IS this a weird level of intimacy for 2 virtual strangers? totally yup. DO i still think its arguably valid considering how desperately lonely i have decided to make this bitch? uh huh :3

you suck in a breath through your teeth, suddenly filled with the fiery emotion you've been tamping down all night- rage. rage at whoever organized this hit, at whoever must be profiting off it while elvis suffers and innocent girls die, at the colonel who's been shepherding bodies in here endlessly and apparently without deigning to give elvis any proper help or training- yeah, don't think you forgot about him.

but before you can do anything about that, you have to do something with the king of rock 'n roll, who's finally quieting down in your lap. you shove the anger back down, the same way you do your bloodlust- the same way you'll teach elvis.

he sits back up, furiously wiping his tear-stained face. "sorry, honey- i don't know what came over me." he barks a laugh but his eyes tell you it's for show. you tut at him, standing up to fetch him a tissue and maybe a bottle of water, if you can find it- you're sure there must have been one waiting for him after the show. his eyes widen again, but before he has time for concern you cup his cheek to brush the last of his tears away with the pad of your thumb, accompanied by a gently chiding look that says i'm not going anywhere

he has enough time to look sheepish before you putter back over to him with your spoils, talking a mile a minute to distract him. "tch, enough of that! that's part of the change- everything you felt before is doubly strong now. it can be hard to separate your emotions sometimes, especially when you're not used to it. you'll feel everything differently now, and twice as hard."

he takes a moment to mull that over as he mops his face and chugs the water bottle, then nods as he meets your eyes again. "i didn't know that, but it sounds- it feels right. what else can ya tell me?" you chuckle darkly, stretching out on the couch. "oh, just bunches, baby. get comfortable, cuz i know you've got questions- and i've got your answers."

over the course of the night, you explain everything to elvis- how he was Turned, the changes his body's going through, all the symptoms and abilities he'll experience now, why he's feeling the way he is, his options for feeding, how his habits need to change if he intends to keep going like this... it's a laborious process, given how little he knows and how much he thinks he does- he's already got a lot of misconceptions to retrain.

"hey, maybe you're the one who's been watching too many dark shadows reruns lately!" you mean it as a joke, but he flushes. "well, s'not like there's a, a handbook or anythin'! i've been tryin' to study up!" you burst out laughing, and he laughs with you.

at one point he orders up dinner for the two of you, which provides the perfect opportunity for you to offer him a creature comfort- "food? yeah, you can eat food. it won't sustain you, but you're free to eat for pleasure." at his pained look, you give him a knowing smirk. "i bet it tastes nasty right now, doesn't it?" he nods glumly, eyeing your super-rare hamburger, and you chuckle, eyeing him as you take an exaggerated bite. he groans in annoyance, and you laugh as you lick your fingers clean. "don't worry- that'll pass. it's your instincts' way of telling you that you're malnourished- kind of a deterrent from stuff that won't actually keep you alive. you'll be back to your peanut butter and banana in no time, promise." he cheers, and orders up a bottle of champagne, just for that.

"that's another thing- we metabolize differently. your system can tell the difference between the liquid calories it needs and the solid calories you're feeding it just for fun. you won't derive any energy from human food, so you can't gain weight. no reason to store fat," you shrug. "but it also means-" you clink your champagne glass with his in a mock toast, "-you can't get drunk." he sputters, "well, why'd you even let me order the bubbly then?? this shit's expensive, so they tell me!" "i like the way it sparkles! it tickles my nose!"

the hours come and go, but the two of you barely notice, so wrapped up in your conversation. that's another thing you explain- how he'll need much less rest now, if he keeps himself healthy, but that until he's being nourished properly he'll be fatigued and need to sleep pretty much like before. he admits that he was practically nocturnal beforehand, anyway- he hadn't even noticed this one change among so many more pressing.

his drapes were heavy-duty, but you could see just the barest sliver of skyline out the window as the sun began to rise. "it's almost dawn," you whisper, conscious of the fact that the vampire before you is very young, and has had a very long night. a very long month, to be perfectly honest. he hums from where his head is resting on your thigh- you'd encouraged him to lie down an hour ago when he kept breaking off his sentences to yawn hugely. actually, you'd encouraged him to get some rest and you'd talk more later, but he'd refused to go to bed, assuring you he wasn't tired 't all, just sore from the show- he got muscle aches, you know, and he needed to stretch out. you hadn't been convinced then, and you were even less so now, keeping a fond eye on him (fond?? when had that happened) as he drowsed in your lap.

his end of the conversation had started lagging about the same time you started running your hand through his hair, until he was practically purring in contentment. you huffed in amusement. "more like a kitty cat than a bat, i think." he cocked an eyebrow and grinned salaciously, though he didn't open his eyes. "oh honey, i'll show you a cat... a pussycat, to be precis-" "HEY!" you swatted him teasingly and he snickered, settling down again. "keep it clean, presley." "yes, Master." you paused in your ministrations at that, just long enough for his brow to furrow. "you don't have to call me that." "yeah... but can i? i mean, would'ya mind if i-?" his voice was quiet, but sincere. "...ok. but only if you want to." he can hear the smile in your voice without looking, and it makes him smile, too.

"you do have a real one out there, y'know." "i know. but they ain't ever helped me none- all they've done for me is turn my life upside down and leave again. but you... hell, honey, i've only known you one night, and already things are starting to feel right side up again." you sit with that for just long enough to feel pleased before you reach down to tweak his nose. he giggles, and your bid to give the both of you a break from being so fucking earnest goes off without a hitch. the tension stays broken, but the tranquil mood remains.

"guess you're stuck with me again- i can't make it all the way home in that," you venture eventually, nodding at the lone streak of sun making its way past the blackout curtains to pool on the floor behind the piano. luckily far out of the way, or he might've had a particularly unpleasant awakening of his own, had he stumbled through the patch accidentally. he shifts minutely, well on his way to sleep by now. "mm, sounds jus' awful," he drawls, answer delayed only slightly by the fact that he's snoozing, his voice is so quiet that without your enhanced senses you'd have to strain to hear it. "can't imagine quite how i'll make it through if you've gotta stick around s'more." "even dead to the world, you maintain your sense of humor, huh, baby? and those lady-killer tendencies, i see" "yeah, well, i have killed quite a few lad-" "elvis!" you laugh, scandalized, as he huffs a laugh as well as he leverages himself up to sitting.

he rubs his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. "s'pose that's my way of asking real tactful... what happens next?" "well, first we've gotta detox you." "what, from the blood? i thought you said-" "nope, not from the blood. from the drugs in the blood." "from the w-" he gapes, looking shocked and hurt, and also a little appalled at himself. "i really am sorry to break it to you, sweetheart- there's a lot going on with you right now, and only some of it is due to... this," you reach up a hand to thumb at one of his fangs, which had slipped out as soon as you started talking about blood. "the rest of it is a combination of the vegas lights and whoever up top orchestrated the whole thing." he nods slowly, expression inscrutable. "we'll take it slow, i promise. ok?" "yeah," he nods more steadily now. "yeah, i trust you."

"well, then, mr. presley- are you ready?" he nods his head as if on instinct, then has the decency to look confused. "ready for what?" you smile, fangs out. "to start getting you fixed up... so we can take down those bastards responsible for this." he just stares at you a moment before a slow grin starts to take over his face, eyes darkening to match the quite literally bloodthirsty expression in yours.

"let's get to it."

#blurb #ask #goddamn will they EVER let each other finish a sentence.??? #sorry dialogue is Not my forte 🙈 im a prose kinda girlie hardcore #also yahhhh i just kind of . totally abandoned the ending to cater to my h/c fantasies. sorry not sorry 😎 #halfway thru the second block of bullets i realized the hc format was completely pointless and i had basically written a full fic #on the other hand im nothing if not a stubborn bitch so.. not changing the formatting now.! #if u think about this too hard u start to see a lot of plot holes #or at least further questions about the specificities of vamp lore in this au #to that i would recommend u pls ignore them 🥰 #GODDD i started writing this directly in the ask. like a fucking FOOL #knowing FULL WELL how this stupid post editor not only eats ask drafts for breakfast and spits out their bones #but ALSO that the even STUPIDER copy/paste restrictions would hit #since theres a character block limit separate from the character POST limit 🙄 #so ive had this tab open for almost a week and have just been walking on eggshells around my laptop praying to not lose it dfghj #MASSIVE SIGH OF RELIEF TO POST IT TBH #also smitty ive got a sidenote for u as well but its gonna go on main lmao. one sec #oh god............ just realized i did the ff.net thing with the in-text ANs 😳😳 #pOST CANCELLED; EVERYBODY GO HOME

[zeijia]

HEAR ME OUT...

otoya fucking his pretty girl after a huge fight w her abt his playboy past and he just has to prove it to his girl that he only belongs to her and that his playboy days are over once he met her <333

(can i be 🪼 anon?)

this made me giggle and blush somehow ❗❗ and sure, you can be 🪼 anon >0<

When he first entered a serious relationship with you, he thought you'd just be like one of his bitches that he randomly hits up on, and he thought you wouldn't last long. But oh was he wrong with that. He became INLOVE LOVE with you. You were patient enough with him to see the best of him. You helped him get through his struggles, you managed to get him out of his goddamned womanizer phase that's been going on ever since he was young. He never thought he'd become this attached to a girl. He would feel guilty whenever he'd view random girls on social media, and be extra affectionate with you the whole day whenever that happens.

But today, you managed to get into a fight with him, why's that? You saw a girl on his recently viewed accounts of his social media. A pretty one. You wondered, what if he's been cheating on you, right? So that ended up into a fight with him, where you refused to believe that he genuinely just 'accidentally' clicked on the account. He's apologized a thousand times already, but you still didn't give in. You were rather scared that he was getting bored of you, that he doesn't find you entertaining anymore, and that he found another girl already.

Once you two were in your shared bed, you faced the opposite direction, while Otoya just faced the same direction as yours, hoping you'd turn your back and cuddle with him, to have you back in his arms. The silence made him think that you've already fallen asleep. So, he sit up, brushed a strand of hair out of your face, and whispered, "im sorry." In your ear.

Though, you were just fake sleeping. You wondered where this would lead to. You could feel his big hand move you to face his direction, and he laid down right next to you, resting his face on your chest as he hugged you on your waist. Another murmur from him was heard. "I'm sorry, please.." 

You just couldn't anymore. You opened your eyes, and looked down at him. He sensed your movements and he quickly looked up. He was almost about to cry. Who knew that Eita had this side? "Y/n..! I'm sorry, please-" before he could finish, you cutted his sentence off. "If you're sorry, then prove it to me, Eita." You wanted him to prove his worth- you wanted him to prove that he only loves you, and you're the only one he wants. Eita's eyes shimmered as he heard that, he was ready to prove himself to you, to make you realize that you're the only girl he wants and needs.

And God, was he proving himself to you.

Your leg up on his shoulder as he held it, his other hand on your waist as he fucked you, your hand covering your face in embarrassment. Your boobs bouncing each time he thrusted his cock in your warm pussy that never seemed to let go of him. He made you feel warm, it felt fuzzy, it felt so… so right. His dick managed to create a bulge on your tummy, love bites from your neck that dropped down to your breasts were also there. The culprit? Eita himself.

He pounded onto you with love, yet it was also harsh, but it managed to make you see stars. The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy, it sounded so lewd. "Don't cover your face- please.." he groaned out, his hand moving from your waist to your face, removing your hands that hid your expression to him. You eventually gave into him and removed your hands away from your face, your vulnerable state all visible to him as moans and whines left your lips.

"I love-" he leaned in for a kiss, "I love you," and another kiss, "so much."

"You're the only one- ngh, the only one f'me.." he whispered, his movements becoming faster and faster, as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull.

Your gooey walls tightened around his dick, making his thrusts become sloppier, "'m.. 'm gonna cum, eita!" you moaned, you felt a knot in your stomach, and you felt desperate for your release. "Cum for me, darling," he coos, kissing your cheek, "my pretty girl." he chuckled, as you shut your eyes tight, cumming on his cock, your leg trembled and fell down from his shoulder.

After a few more sloppy thrusts, you felt Eita come right inside your cunt. "Ah..! this just proves.. proves how much I love you," he sighed, before resting his head back on neck, and you wrapped your arms around him. He didn't have any plans pulling out, and you enjoyed having him inside you. You enjoyed feeling full from his dick. "I love you so so sooooo much, my girl." He muttered, a scoff was heard from you as you gave him a head pat. "Fine, alright. I forgive you, and I love you too, Eita." 

© zeijias. do not copy/steal, translate, modify my work. ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

#bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk smut #bllk #blue lock x you #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock #otoya eita #otoya eita x reader #otoya eita x you #otoya eita smut

[eddieschains]

Virgin!Eddie X Fem!Reader

Massive thank you to @choke-me-joey for helping me on this one!! Love you to pieces 🥰

Just a reminder that i am taking requests and also… virginity is a construct

TW: 18+, drug use, Jason and Chrissy making out, Steve Harrington is bad at sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Eddie Munson. The freak. The weirdo. The cult leader. And surprisingly, the virgin.

You and Eddie were becoming fast friends when you accidentally walked in on a hellfire meeting while looking for after school study hall. He made some sarcastic and borderline mean comment about you interrupting, but after seeing what he was like in the school cafeteria, you knew he didn’t mean it. He saw you sitting on the sidewalk after his campaign was over, and drove you home when your dad didn’t show. The two of you had practically been attached at the hip ever since.

You and Eddie had created a friday night tradition of getting high at skull rock, watching the constellations, then going back to his trailer for snacks and a movie. You had just pulled up to skull rock, gathering your supplies before looking beside you. You see another car parked next to Eddie’s. Being the nosy person you are, you look over to see Jason and Chrissy inside. They had their tongues shoved down each other’s throats in the front seat.

“Ed.” You tapped him on the shoulder. He turns towards you as you point to the car next to you.

“Is that?” He doesn’t finish his sentence before you start nodding anxiously.

“Goddamn it i just wanted to smoke some weed.” He pouts.

“Well isn’t Wayne out of town for the weekend? Can’t we just do it at your place?” You ask, frantically wanting to leave this situation.

Eddie nods, stuffing his supplies back into his tin box. “Yeah we can do that. Kind of ruining our tradition though.”

You put your hands up and shrug. Implying an oh well. He turns the engine back on, putting the car in gear and driving off.

Eddie pulls into the driveway and you hop out running into the trailer. He grabs you some sweatpants and a shirt to change into for the night while he makes some popcorn for your movie night.

“What movie are we watching?” You ask while rummaging through his movie case.

“You can pick tonight. Forgot to stop at family video.” He sits on the couch, bringing the bowl of popcorn with him.

“Ooh! Footloose?” Eddie whips his head around.

“I own footloose?” He asks. You hold up the tape in your hand, wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “Fine. You’re lucky i like you enough to suffer through it for you.”

“You like musicals.” You put the VHS in before plopping down on the couch next to him.

“Some musicals. Footloose is just a bunch of horny teenagers trying to fuck each other without anyone knowing.” He rolls a joint, lighting it and handing it to you. He always let you have the first hit, knowing it would hit you hit you harder than it would him and you’d enjoy it more.

You sat there passing the joint back and forth, stuffing popcorn into your face until Eddie piped up.

“So Jason and Chrissy.” He states.

“Yeah. Jason and Chrissy.” You respond, uninterested.

“You ever done what… what they were doing?” You turn to him, confusion written on your face.

“Made out?” Eddie nods. “Yeah i’ve made out with people Eddie.” You snort.

“With people? As in multiple?” He always asked weird questions when he was high, but usually bounced between subjects once you answered.

“Yes i’ve made out with multiple people. Is that bad?” Eddie shakes his head.

“No no of course not. I just- have you ever done anything more?” He stumbles over his words.

“Like sex? Yeah i’ve had sex Eds. What are you getting at?”

“What does it feel like?” His curiosity was killing him.

“I mean it can feel good or it can feel bad. Depends on who you’re with.” Eddie just nods, returning his gaze back to the TV.

“Harrington is shit at it.”

He snorts out a laugh, “That’s probably why he can’t keep a girlfriend.” Taking another hit from the joint.

“Eddie?” He turns back to you. “Are you a virgin?”

He looks down, playing with his hands in his lap. “I mean i fingered that one girl in the back of the hideout once. But… that’s pretty much it.”

“Do you want to have sex?” You place your hand on his thigh, feeling it twitch at your touch.

“I mean of course i want to have sex. Just… just haven’t found anyone that wants to do it with me.”

“I will.” You move closer to him, your chest pressed against his arm.

“Y/N… i cant- i can’t do that.” He stands up to throw the but of his joint in the trash.

“And why not? You’re comfortable with me aren’t you?” You respond, wondering why someone who was so eager to have sex is turning it down.

“Because i like you.” He blurts out. Your eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of your head. “Fuck im sorry.”

“No no it’s okay. Come here.” You pat the seat next to you, inviting him back to the couch.

“I like you. I like you a lot. And i was trying really hard not to act on those feelings because i like what we have right now and i don’t want to ruin it. But seeing Jason back there- it made me think of how badly i wanted that to be me and you.” You don’t know what to say. You’re shocked. Shocked that your best friend has just confessed his feelings for you, and that you feel the same way. “Fuck i shouldn’t have said anything.” You grab his face and pull him into a kiss. It’s quick, but rough.

When you pull away, Eddie is left staring at you. His big eyes burning into your skin. It was rare for him to be at a loss for words.

You wrap your legs around his waist, straddling him before kissing him again. This time you’re savoring it. Putting more passion into it as his hands find their way onto your hips.

“If you want me to stop just say so. We can forget this ever happened.” You say, not wanting him to feel pressured to do anything.

“Babe, i just told you how much i like you and how much i’ve been dying to fuck someone. Put two and two together.” You laugh into his neck, placing another peck to his lips before lifting your shirt over your head. Wearing no bra, you’ve now exposed your chest to him.

He just sits there, staring at your tits in awe, not knowing what to do next. You grab his hands and place them on your chest, letting him squeeze his hands over them.

“You’ve never touched anyones boobs before?” He shakes his head mumbling uh-uh.

You hold his hands on top of your boobs, guiding them around your chest.

“This okay?” He asks breathily.

“Yeah yeah this is good. You can play with my nipples too.” He grabs your nipples between his fingers, twisting them around. “Yes oh my god like that.” You bury your head into his neck, kissing and sucking while grinding yourself on his crotch. “Wanna fuck you Ed. Please, wanna feel you inside of me.”

Eddie groans into your ear before attaching his lips to yours. You reach your hand in between the two of you, palming his dick under his pants. You stand up to take your sweatpants off, pulling your underwear with them.

“Oh my god…”’Eddie groans at the sight of you. “You’re so- fuck.”

“Pants off pretty boy.” You smile at him. He eagerly undoes his belt and pulls his pants down to his ankles. You straddle him again, grinding your naked pussy on his hard cock, coating it in your wetness. “Ready?” You ask, Eddie’s head nodding so fast you’re scared he’s going to snap his neck.

Reaching down you grab his member, sliding it up and down your cunt, taking in the sounds coming from his mouth, before slowly pushing it inside of you.

“Oh shit.” Eddie wraps his arms around your back, holding on to you for leverage as you sink yourself all the way down.

“Fuck you’re so big Eddie. Fill me up so good.” You begin to grind back and forth slowly, letting him get used to the feeling of being inside of you. Both of your heads are buried in the others neck, moans and groans seeping into each other’s ears. “Gonna go faster now okay?” You breathe on to him.

Lifting your head from his neck, you place your hands on his shoulders before lifting yourself up and back down quickly. His eyes start to shut as you grab one of his hands from your waist and place it on your chest. He grabs your mound and starts to squeezing and kneading the way you had shown him earlier.

“That’s it baby. Just like that. Such a good boy for me.” Eddie throws his head back, a loud moan escaping his mouth at your praise. You keep bouncing up and down, feeling him deeper each time you slam back down. “Eddie, you okay?”

“What? Yeah im fuckin great.”

“You’re not talking. This is the quietest i’ve heard you.” You laugh.

“Didn’t know i was supposed to.” Eddie’s cheeks flush red.

You grab onto his face, pushing your foreheads together, still bouncing up and down. “Just tell me how it feels. Tell me if i’m doing okay or if you want something different.” He nods, wrapping the arm that wasn’t on your tit around your back.

“Feels so good. So fucking wet and-shit- and tight.” He starts bucking his hips up to yours, earning louder moans from you. “Think im gonna cum soon.”

“Me too. Go ahead cum for me Eddie, wanna feel it.” Your words push him over the edge, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you as his body tenses. It’s not long until you’re doing the same. The feeling of his orgasm triggers your own, feeling the walls of your push clench and tighten around him, earning one last moan from him.

You lay on top of him, keeping his cock inside of you while placing small soft kisses on his neck. “You’re not a virgin anymore.”

He laughs, “That i am not. Kind of hoping i’m not single anymore too.” You look up at him, smashing your lips on to his. “Nope. Not single either.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson fic #virgin!eddie #virgin!eddie munson

[noirsfantasy]

On the eleventh day of Christmas…

𝔏𝔩𝔬𝔶𝔡’𝔰 𝔑𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔶 𝔊𝔦𝔯𝔩

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ boyfriend!Lloyd Hansen x Black!Fem Reader

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Smut (minors dni!!!)

𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 ➛ The Gray Man

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛ 3.7K

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ Lloyd's been working a lot lately and rarely coming home. It's been a pretty lonely December, so you take matters into your own hands. You'll get his attention one way or another...

a/n - you ever been fucked till you dumb? Well this is the best way I can describe that. I hope y’all enjoy!

The December nights are cold, but Lloyd's absence makes them a lot colder. His work consumes him entirely, leaving me alone in our home, yearning for that man's deadly touch that seems worlds away. The city lights are my only comfort, but tonight, I plan to change that.

The hum of surveillance screens and tapping of keyboards fills the dark room as Lloyd sits back, holding a photo of his target and waiting to hear some good news. He swirls half a glass of whiskey in his hand as he lets out a harsh breath of impatience in response to the employees' failure to useful present information. His brow furrows as he rubs his temples.

"Come on, guys, give me something. Anything!" He shouts loudly in an irritated tone. It'd been a while since he had a target this difficult to find. The employees flinch at the hostility in his voice and glance at each other. A young man, one of the employees, hesitantly raises his head from his screen to make eye contact with Lloyd, as he attempts to speak up. The man's words come out shaky and hesitant as he speaks in a trembling voice, clearly afraid of Lloyd's reaction to whatever he has to say.

"W- Well, Sir," He stutters nervously before speaking in a soft tone with an uncertain look in his eyes, "...We...we're trying... b-but we haven't been able to... track him down. It's almost impossible t- to find a lead on him..."

"Almost impossible," Lloyd echoes menacingly as he stands up, chuckling to himself and setting his glass down. His expression becomes even more cold and heartless as his intimidating glare turns towards the young worker. "I don't give a donkey's dick how hard it is to find him! I don't pay you shitheads for your excuses. Now, do your goddamn jobs and we can all go home, sound good?" He says in a condescending tone.

The young man lowers his head out of fear, remaining silent along with everyone else in the room No one dares to speak another word, not wanting to anger their boss any further. The only sound to be heard is the harsh breathing of Lloyd as he slumps back down in his seat, his icy blue eyes glaring at the large screen, searching for any ideas on where to find this guy. He takes another sip from his glass. It seems like this is going to be a long night.

Meanwhile, at home, I find myself dressed in my best lingerie, moving through the place while drinking a glass of red wine. I check myself out in the mirror in the hallway, smiling contently as I tease my hair a bit. The lights are dimmed and I make my way to the living room, where I have my laptop set up.

Sitting on the couch, I set my glass down and start tapping away on my computer. A mischievous smirk plays on my face as I access the screens at Lloyd's location, causing them to go dark for a moment.

At the center of the room, seated at his desk, Lloyd notices the sudden flickering of the screens in front of him before they all simultaneously go dark.

"What the hell happened?!" He asks in irritation. He glances around searching for a source of the interference, unable to determine what the issue was.

"You!" He points to one of his employees, who looks nervously back at him. "Get these shits back on now!" He demands as he stands up abruptly, his chair falling back from the force.

"I- I- I'm trying, Sir. It seems like something is interfering with the connection-" He's unable to finish his sentence as he's grabbed by the collar and Lloyd glares angrily into his eyes. He throws out threats of what will happen if the screens aren't up and running in the next ten seconds, not quite realizing that his screens are being accessed remotely by a rather clever woman who seems to have a plan brewing in her mind.

The terrified man struggles to speak while trying to free himself from Lloyd's iron grip. Lloyd lets out a harsh growl as he watches his workers try to fix the problem quickly. The atmosphere is thick, most of them too scared to concentrate properly under the pressure.

In an instant, the screens come back on. However, instead of footage of the target, it seems they are broadcasting live surveillance of Lloyd's home. Confused, he lets go of his employee, staring at the screen. His eyes widen when he sees me, wrapped in a black silk robe, sprawled out on the bed as I sip some wine.

"What the hell?" Lloyd is taken by surprise as he's unable to take his eyes off the screen, completely perplexed by the unexpected scene. He raises an eyebrow as he watches me lounging on the bed, my seductive red lips slowly sipping from my glass as I look directly into the camera. He knows this is my doing. Suddenly, his anger and frustration from the previous moments dissipate.

His employees look around at each other in confusion, unsure of what was going on.

"Goddamn it," Lloyd whispers to himself, annoyed with the situation, yet somehow drawn to the sight of my bare legs peeking out from the robe. My dark skin gives off a soft glow in the low lighting, mesmerizing everyone in the room. Still unable to look away, he takes a few steps closer to the screen, his gaze following every single movement of mine.

I bite my lip as I tug on the tie that holds my robe together, causing it to fall open. Underneath, he and everyone in the room can see my lacy red lingerie on the screen. There's an audible gasp from all the employees in the room as the screen lights up with the unexpected visuals, everyone's eyes immediately drawn to my seductive undergarments that cling to my body perfectly and reveal every curve.

Lloyd is completely captivated by the sight, my eyes shooting naughty glances at the camera as if begging him to come to me. The room is completely still as everyone stares at the screen, too stunned by my sexy reveal to do anything else.

Diverting his attention to the group and realizing that the entire room has their gaze fixed on my show on the monitor, Lloyd furrows his brow in anger.

"What the hell are you looking at?!" He shouts furiously, his darkening glare sending chills down their spines as they realize what they'd been doing. They immediately turn away from the screen and nervously look elsewhere. Lloyd looks back at the screen. I take another sip of wine before tipping the glass, letting the wine trickle down my gorgeous body as I continue to stare into the camera. The more he watches, the more aroused he becomes. The image of me teasingly stroking my body burned into his mind, reminding him of what was waiting for him at home. He just better not keep me waiting too long.

Lloyd swallows hard as he reaches into his pocket and dials my number into his phone, pressing it tightly to his ear and waiting to hear my voice.

I smirk as I hear my phone vibrating beside me. I take my eyes off the camera, answering the phone as I toss my hair over my shoulder.

"Hello~" He almost lets out a groan from the sound of my sultry voice. His eyes are still glued to the screen as he watches me cross my legs. Despite the distance between us, he can't stop himself from fantasizing about every single thing he'd do to me if he were with me.

"Why, hello..." Lloyd starts in a husky tone, his words coming out a bit slower than usual. "Being naughty now, are we?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about..." I lie, looking back into the camera. "I'm just sitting here, enjoying a glass of wine. How's work? You must be so busy right now." While my tone is innocent, my mischievous smile gives me away.

"Uh-huh..." He can't hide his smirk as he notices my sarcasm. He knows I'm being playful and trying to stir him up. Despite his frustration over the earlier situation, he can't help but find my teasingly seductive attitude amusing and attractive. "Work is... work. Busy as always." He pauses for a moment to chuckle to himself. "But, the funniest thing just happened over here. Care to guess what that is?"

"Oh, baby, you know I'm bad at guessing games. I always guess wrong." I reply, fake pouting. I can almost hear the smirk on his face growing wider. He's enjoying this back-and-forth teasing, it's hot! It's a game, like a dance, I have to keep moving to his rhythm.

"That's okay, cupcake," Lloyd replies, his tone turning seductive. "If you guess wrong, I have a few ways to make you... beg for the correct answer~" I can feel the heat rising all over my body, his words slowly and menacingly turning into something more suggestive and threatening. I try not to show how much the sound of his smooth voice and cocky attitude is affecting me, but I'm getting turned on more and more by every word he speaks. I almost lose concentration on what I was planning, but I stand my ground.

"I have no idea what could be going on over there, honey. Did you get that target you were after?" I ask coyly, standing up from the bed and walking over to the nightstand to set my glass down. I put the phone on speaker as I let my robe fall to the floor, revealing a thong with a chain with Lloyd's name engraved in it. I act as if I don't know the camera is there, or that he's in a room full of people and I climb back onto the bed, leaning back against the pillows.

"Not yet, Princess. I've got a new task tonight," He tells me, making me curious.

"Oh really? And what's that?" I inquire.

"Santa's gotta punish someone who's on the naughty list." He hangs up the phone, and I have to try and contain my excitement, knowing I'm still on their screens. I stand back up, taking my glass to the kitchen to refill it while I eagerly wait for Lloyd's arrival.

Once my glass is filled, I make my way back to the bedroom, picking a record out from our collection. I set it on the record player and set the mood, smiling to myself. It's only a matter of time before he gets here and, knowing him, he's running every red light and cutting everyone off to get to me. As the record starts to play, I sit back on the bed, letting the sensual music fill the room. I close my eyes as I lean back, fantasizing about the things Lloyd is gonna do to me. I picture what will happen when he first walks through that door, finding me with my legs spread and his name engraved on my thong. Just the thought excites me.

“And there she is…" Lloyd mutters under his breath as enters the room and spots me, sitting on the bed, looking incredibly delicious. He leans against the doorframe, hands in his pockets as he smirks at me. I open my eyes and sit up, startled slightly by his sudden presence.

“You’re home early,” I say, regaining my composure. I try not to melt under his smoldering gaze as he stalks towards me.

“You miss me?” He questions with a crooked grin.

"Of course, I missed you. It's been a while since you've been home. A girl like me gets lonely pretty quick." I reply as I stand up, looking at him innocently.

"You poor thing," He teases sarcastically, his eyes running up and down my body as he looks down at me. He brings his fingers up and grazes the strap of my lingerie, caressing the fabric. He slides it off my shoulder and I can literally feel the heat radiating from his proximity to me as he stands towering over me, the smell of his cologne enveloping me.

"You must be so proud of yourself, Y/N..." He starts.

"For what, darling?" I feign ignorance as if I don't know exactly what he means. Without warning, Lloyd grabs me by the throat and pulls me towards him. I inhale sharply at the unexpected action as he leans down.

"That stunt you pulled was clever, cupcake. I'm impressed." He whispers against my neck. I feel the heat rushing to my cheeks as I hold onto his wrist to support myself. " I hope you're ready for the consequences~" I can literally feel the power of his hold on my neck as he brings his lips even closer to mine, making my throat tighten under his grip. His breath is hot against my skin as he breathes into my ear. His words send shivers through my core.

"You can play innocent all you want," He growls out lowly, his free hand moving down to grip my thigh possessively. Lloyd pulls me even closer against his growing bulge. "I'm gonna enjoy punishing you." I can't help but tremble slightly as his words fill me with a mix of excitement and fear. A smile widens across my face as I press myself against his crotch and lean into his touch, allowing myself to enjoy the feeling of his strong hands on my body and the adrenaline rushing through me. It's a challenge to keep my knees from buckling.

"You know, I've always wondered what it would be like to break you." His grip on my throat tightens slightly as his hand moves up my thigh, dangerously close to where he knows my body aches for him. "But first, you're going to get on your knees for me." I gulp audibly as he releases my throat, leaning against his body. "On your knees... now..." The fact that I'm unable to resist him is even hotter. I slowly move down till my eyes are level with this groin.

"That's a good girl," Lloyd's fingers tangle themselves into my hair, pulling my head back and forcing me to look up at him. He starts to undo his belt buckle and unzips his pants. I don't break eye contact as I reach up to pull his boxers down, revealing his thick, hard length to me. My mouth falls open instinctively, watering with anticipation. His free hand slides down my cheek, tracing the line of my jaw.

"I'm going to take you apart piece by piece and I'm gonna love every second of it." He guides my head forwards, forcing his throbbing cock into my eager mouth. He groans deeply as I take him in all the way, his grip on my hair tightening. He starts to thrust gently, pushing deeper into my throat each time. I moan around him as my tongue swirls against his skin. Tears prick the corners of my eyes as my throat stretches to accommodate his size.

Lloyd thrusts into my mouth slowly, inching deeper every time and barely allowing me room to breathe. I grip his thighs tightly as I focus hard to prevent myself from gagging. I look up at him with doe eyes as his cock pulses in my mouth.

His eyes darken further, watching my struggle. He pulls back slightly, giving me a moment to catch my breath before pushing back in deeper, causing me to let out muffled moan as he hits the back of my throat. He looks down at me, his breath heavy as he picks up speed. "That's it, baby. Take all of me."

As I feel the familiar sting in my throat, I can't help but whimper around his cock. My eyes roll back, my body shuddering with need. I try to match his rhythm, bobbing my head up and down on his thick shaft. I squeeze my eyes shut as he assaults my throat, slobber dribbling down the sides of my mouth.

Lloyd's fingers dig into my hair as he leans forward, his hips slamming against my face. He growls low in his throat, the vibrations causing my entire body to tremble. With one last forceful thrust, pulling my head as close as possible, he finally releases me. I gasp heavily as I fall forward onto my hands, whimpering softly as I catch my breath.

Lloyd's breathing is ragged as he watches me recover. His hands shake slightly as he tries to regain control. “On the bed, naughty girl. We’re not finished yet.” Trembling slightly, I scramble onto the bed, my body aching for more of his touch. He tosses he’s shirt to the side and steps out of his pants and boxers, flexing his muscles slightly as he approaches me. My eyes never leave his as he climbs onto the bed, towering above me. “Uh-uh, princess. Turn over and toot that ass up real nice for me.”

I obey his command, rolling over onto my stomach. My heart is pounding in anticipation as I feel him approach from behind. He unclips my bra in one swift motion and I toss it onto the floor. Lloyd's hands run over his engraved name on my thong and then grip my hips tightly, moving the fabric to the side as he positions himself at my entrance. He rubs his length against my soaked slit, eliciting another whimper from me. With a growl, he forces himself inside, inch by inch, stretching me into submission.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking tight,” he groans, pounding into me. I arch my back, trying to take more of him. His hands roam down my sides, digging into my flesh as he takes me harder and faster. I moan out as my hands ball up the sheets. The headboard slams into the wall as Lloyd pounds into me, his skin slapping against mine. He leans over to grab my hips, pulling me back into him.

He forces my face into the bedsheets as he pushes his full length into me. My screams of pleasure reverberate off the walls, the only other sounds heard being the sloppy smacking of his cock into my wetness. I feel the climax rising within me, my pussy dripping as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. I heave heavily as I try my hardest to hold it in. But Lloyd doesn’t make it easy.

He smacks my ass hard, leaving a visible handprint in my dark skin. The sting of it only serves to turn me on even more.

“You’re such a slut, getting turned on this much by your punishment!” He grunts as he smacks my ass again, causing me to yelp in pleasure.

“Is this what you wanted, cupcake?” He questions as he thrusts harder and yanks my head back by my thick curls. “You wanted my attention so bad you went and messed with my toys?” I gasp as I feel him hit that spot inside me over and over again. I can only respond with unintelligible nonsense between my moans, Lloyd’s hips slamming into my ass with punishing force. He's relentless, driving into me with a fierce determination that leaves me breathless.

Unable to hold it any longer, my orgasm flows over me and I soak him, the sheets, and my thong with my juices. Although he doesn’t slow down. Instead he continues to drill into me, splashing my arousal all over the sheets. He uses his grip on my hair to pull me towards him as he fucks me senseless.

My voice comes out hoarse and strangled as I feel lightheaded. “I-I can’t take any more,” I manage to choke out between pants, my voice shaky.

"Oh, you can take it," he growls, pulling out only to slam back in with a force that steals what little breath I had left. His hands grip my hips tightly, his fingers digging into my flesh as he takes me roughly. As if sensing that I was about to collapse, he picks up the pace, driving deeper and harder. My body tenses, anticipation coursing through me.

"Lloyd!" I scream his name, my body quaking violently under his assault as my second orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave. My voice echoes in the room as my walls clench around him. He groans deep in his throat, his own release imminent.

Lloyd grunts and grits his teeth as he comes, his hips ramming into me with an unyielding ferocity. He bites down hard on his lip to suppress a scream as he spills his cum deep inside me. The force of his orgasm is enough to send shudders through my body. He lies there for a few moments, his weight pinning me to the bed.

Finally, he pulls out of me with a loud, satisfied moan. His hands run through his sweat-drenched hair, abs glistening in the light. He pants heavily, watching as my body falls in a slumped heap on the bed, cum dripping out of my cunt.

“Now, you gonna be a good girl for me and let Daddy get his work done?” He asks me in a husky voice as a small smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. I’m still catching my breath, looking over at him with hooded eyes. I give him a slow nod, biting my lip gently.

“Good girls use their voice~” Lloyd reminds me, placing his hand on my hip and caressing it.

“Yes, daddy… I’ll behave.” I respond, knowing full well I intend to act up again.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, rubbing my back softly.

“Do you have to go back right now?” I inquire as I watch him stand up.

Lloyd shakes his head, “No, not yet. I have some time. I’ll deal with that shit show tomorrow.” He smirks at me, his eyes filled with mischief. He gives me a wink as he walks out of the room to go get something to clean me up with.

Meanwhile, back at work, all of Lloyd’s employees stare at the live footage of his room, shocked, embarrassed, and slightly turned on by the show. If only I’d remembered to turn off the broadcast. Oh well…

#oneshot #christmas #12 days of christmas #noirsfantasy #black reader #smut #black actors #black reader smut #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #black!reader #chris evans #chris evans smut #the gray man

[southsidestory]

Mandy won’t leave, and it’s driving Mickey up the wall. She was supposed to hang out with some “friend” around noon, but the guy must have bailed because she called their cousin Krystal and made new plans for an undetermined time.

Mickey would really like her to determine it and get a move on. He told Ian to be here at one o’clock and that shithead is never late.

“You ever going to Krystal’s, or…?” Mickey raises his eyebrows and lets them finish the sentence for him.

“What do you care?” Mandy asks.

“I was supposed to have the house to myself for once, and instead you got your sad ass parked on the couch growing goddamn sprouts.” Mickey gestures from said couch to the door with both arms. “Now get the fuck up.”

“You’re such a douchebag sometimes,” Mandy says, but that’s fine by him, since she does in fact get the fuck up.

He watches the time on his latest burner while Mandy packs an overnight bag, grabs her purse, and walks out. She waves goodbye with her middle finger.

“Don’t forget to erase that chalk off your nose,” Mickey calls after her. He mimes wiping powder from his nostrils.

Mandy slams the door shut, and Mickey collapses back against the couch. He holds up his throwaway phone: 12:56. Ian’s gonna be here any minute. 

They’ve got water in the house right now, and Dad isn’t on one of his you’ll bathe when I say you can power trips, so Mickey was able to shower this morning. He didn’t use any faggoty flower soap or whatever, but he’s as clean as anyone ever can be in this moldy-ass death trap of a house.

Ian shows up at one on the dot. He’s smart enough to listen for other people before saying anything.

Mickey punches his arm lightly. “It’s cool, Army. Nobody’s here.”

“Army, firecrotch, tough guy, Private Ryan.” Ian counts off each one on his fingers. “I’m starting to wonder if you even know my name.”

“‘Course I do, Gallagher.”

Ian follows Mickey to the living room. He shrugs off his coat and sits on the edge of the couch, smiling that way he does when he’s trying not to look too happy.

Mickey ruffles his hair and yanks on a handful of it. “This cut makes you look like an idiot.”

“I’m thinking about buzzing it.”

“Sure, if you want to look even stupider.”

Ian tilts his head back, looking up at Mickey all knowing and shit. “I think you just like to grab it.”

Mickey’s grip on his hair tightens. He steps closer, til Ian’s open legs are bracketing Mickey’s knees. His chin is a foot from Mickey’s stomach, and it’d be so easy to drag him closer, get Ian’s mouth on him.

Ian doesn’t try. Mickey’s rejection the other night must have knocked his courage down a peg. That’s good. Keeps things clear. 

Mickey hates it.

“Let’s go to my room.”

—

—

AN: This excerpt from my (unposted) long-fic If You Have a Problem is a gift for @ifconfusionwasaperson <3 Thanks so much for your support, my friend!

#gallavich fic #gallavich #ian x mickey #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #shameless us #my fanfiction

[tellmethisisnottumblisnextfuckup]

Hello I’m a Larry but I feel like they broke up a couple of years ago. I’ll also say I’m more of a Harrie and his music makes me believe he’s been in other relationships. But I’m also willing to be convinced otherwise!! The hopeless romantic in me wants to believe in the strength of their love so I guess my question is what evidence have you gathered that makes you believe they’re still together even now? I know this might be a lot to ask. Thanks in advance !!!

I’m this close to grabbing a digital pen and correct Larry to Larrie. (Did you know it’s one of the signs of having trolls in the dungeon)

Anyway. I do want to answer.

Life. Dear anon. It’s life that taught me everything. Do tell me when you time their break up - because I’ve been here since more than “a couple of years ago” - i know it’s super easy to throw this sentence - but you’re telling this to someone who has been here lol - and I wasn’t in my diapers on the playground when these 2 fell in love. So when do you time their break up? Because you know they’ve lived half their lives in the spotlight, in this industry and time and time again -let’s just say day-by-day week-by-week only proved the immense respect, and love they feel for each other. We’ve had these naysayers like you in the years, so this is nothing new but you know what? None of you are ever able to point out a period which proves that these 2 have broken up.

This is not a movie or high school. They have fought tooth and nail for their love, for their freedom, they “hid” it when they had to, but even then- jeez it gives me chills to remember all those moments- even then an eye movement, a caring look, a hidden touch, the other’s reaction- it just gave it away. And not to mention how fucking obvious they were when they didn’t hide it and just let it all out.

Life. Because I happen to be in a loving and supportive relationship since 2007. Because love isn’t a break up - getting together- break up- getting together spiral. Love is about trust, and respect, and growing together, being better together, finding your best friend in the other, it’s about fighting for what you two have together. That’s what they did when they were babies - fighting w modest, sony, whatever you want to add here. They don’t need to fight though because as soon as the cameras stop rolling they’re an out-couple to the surprise of no-one in this industry.

Life because we have 5 people in the same band and always these 2 seem to be so goddamn unlucky to share clothes ON A CONSTANT (to be PC), who finish each other’s sentences, who when even making eye contact making the other 3 look aside to their handlers with a pale face, always these 2 who in the band disappeared at the same time, who even AFTER 1D were still disappearing from the globe at the same time and reappearing at the same time, who had to have 235 stunts running at the same time to make them straight otherwise if you strip these stunts down all you have is two singers w constant denial of their sexuality. (Remember what Sir Elton John said..), it’s only these 2 whose teams work still to this day to make you and others believe H and L aren’t even in the same continent because god save them from cutting all their record incomes.

Life. Because WHY. You cannot explain why this happened in 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014 (you’re damn right I’ll type all the years out), 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021 and keeps happening in 2022 spring- summer.

Life. Because you learn what is THE LOOK. What it means that “when you know you know”. Because you learn that 16 year olds don’t just utter things out like always and moving in together and home. Because it IS possible to be and still be with your first love.

Life. Because relationships do not have an expiration date, because it can happen, because it does happen. Because those looks and touches were the very thing that drew me here in the first place and you cannot fake this shit.

Life. Because you can be w your SO together for years and they’d still say they’re not willing to have ONE innocent couple tattoo.

Life. Because celebrities lie. Money talks. Paps are paid. This industry is homophobic. Media shows what is paid for. What you see - they want you to see that.

Life. Because you learn to look at what you’re not shown, what you’re not told.

Life. Because in the 242 million pregnancies people have a year, they DO show at 8 months. 🙃

And finally: Because they’ve come so far from Princess Park and that lyric fits no one and he’s a habit that he CAN’T BREAK and he’s happy to shout this out every night to his fans anon.

Life. Because the strength of these words, all their goddamn lyrics goes deep in your heart and you know it’s not just some cheap 1000 words Y/N on goddamn wattpad.

Have a nice Saturday anon! 💚💙

#they never broke up

[wolfcamellias]

Since exams are finally over and i have alot of free time on my hands🙏, here's some angst i wrote it's a little long so feel free to ignore

"Sun Wukong, the great sage equal to heaven. Been a while since i have last heard from you aye?" a voice spoke, the tone condescending and sharp like a knife, it was digging through the ears of the so called monkey king Infront of them, they chucked when he didn't respond back.

"don't really wanna talk? Seriously?." they sheepishly laughed, he still didn't respond. The memories stabbing through his mind and travelling his mind, haunting him every chance it gets. He sighed, sharply. The other person scoffed, He finally spoke, speaking ever so slowly with such venom in his voice.

"Go away, Macaque. I don't wanna hear anything from your filthy mouth ever again." everything became more suffocating, the air was hard to breathe it, it was poisonous too venomous, to the point it hurt. To breathe properly. It was a surprise, even Macaque had managed to speak even if the air was suffocating. It was too much, a sentence that had kept repeating in the King's head.

It was so unbearable, to see a misty memory Infront of him, he a melody long forgotten but managed to still sing in his own mind. "Tsk, that." A pause, they scoffed, when they saw him still not looking Infront him he continued, making the air more suffocating than ever. "Isn't a way to communicate with a old friend. After all we've done, all of the suffering we both endured together, just go to waste? Because you don't want to ever talk to me again." they said, gripping so hard on their clothing, having a tear let out from their eye.

Lies, all lies, filth and lies, all came from their fantasies speaking from their goddamn mouth. He clenched his fist. He tried to talk, and speak, he cannot. Handle this shit, anymore it was too suffocating to be even here and hear their voice again. Please, leave and shut up already.

Macaque, scoffed in amusement. They dared to continue on, "Hm, well don't you remember our promise that you'll return? That'll after that fucking journey everything would go back to normal. Looks like that was just a lie" His eyes become bloodshot at that claim, finally he had come to face macaque, no they were not deserving to be named, they were nothing but only a forgotten memory. The other's smirk on their lips had only become more wider.

"Well there you are, But aren't I right? Because that's who you are Sun Wukong. You lie, that's the only thing you do to everyone you love." Bewildered, he said things he thought he would never said.

"SHUT THE HELL UP LIUER, YOU HAVE NO AUTHORITY NOR THE AUDACITY TO SAY THAT AFTER ALL YOU'VE DONE, NOT JUST FOR ME BUT TO THE KID AND THE OTHERS!?" The air became more heavy and unbearable, it was just like that last time they had saw each other before..

They have alot to talk about.

AND RICOLASH DELIVERS GODDAMN??

I wonder if this quality of writing happens every time you finish exams because if so i hope you get more exams /j/j/j

WOW WOW WOW what a blast? What a kicker i loved this one a lot my goodness

#ask #lego monkie kid #sun wukong #macaque #liu er mihou #wow #awsome work ricolash!!!

[jaynovz]

13 and 37 for the get to know your writer ask game

13. What’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

That practice really does make you better. You're not going to get better unless you continue to write.

And to not wait til you're "in the mood" to write. Just set a time, sit down, work on it. If I let myself be dictated by "the muse" as far as when I "felt" like writing, nothing would ever get finished.

37. How do you choose where to end a chapter?

I outline and structure the beats of a story pretty extensively. Story structure and pacing as like, nittygritty technical craft, are some of my strengths as a writer, probably from all the years spent reading and analyzing other ppl's work. I'm exceptionally good at knowing what a story needs, though every story needs something different.

For Break Up AU, the first two chapters were always going to be all from the present timeline, starting with the Silverflint reunion at a holiday party. And these two are broken up into Chap One as the Holiday Party and all the Building Tensions and Unsaid History and Bullshit Smalltalk with no real communication finally reaching a boiling point, up til the moment they finally touch and acknowledge that they were always going to fall back into bed. That chapter ends with:

They’ve been careful not to touch all night, so when Flint reaches out to grasp Silver’s hand, it's like a spark on a powder keg. Flint squeezes Silver’s hand firmly, once, eyes still married to each other, and his tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip. Silver gasps softly as Flint lets his fingers drift up and along the inside of Silver’s wrist, far too deliberate to be an accident. He caresses the skin there lightly, fingertips warm, far more intoxicating than the alcohol. Flint's touch ignites, sizzling along that small contact. It consumes all the oxygen in the room until Silver can't breathe. It is so much and yet nowhere near enough and Flint’s eyes—all night his goddamn eyes—he’s given up any appearance of restraint, staring at Silver like a ravenous shark scenting blood. Long moments pass and still Flint doesn't let go, tracing the veins of Silver’s inner wrist with his fingertips. It’s maddening, lighting up every nerve from his palm to his elbow to his cock, surging to life in his slacks. “Do you want to–” Flint begins in a rush, voice husky. “Yes,” Silver whispers before he can finish the sentence.

Chap Two is the desperate reunion sex and morning after.

And then after that reunion, chapter 3 begins with the first flashback to the pre-break up timeline, the night they met.

The reason for these specific breaks are because an in medias res start for something with two timelines is always going to be more interesting to read, and having those timelines be interlocking is going to create echoes and parallels and pain and juxtaposition that won't hit as hard read in chrono order. So for Break Up you see the reunion party and sex directly followed by the first meeting party. You can already see where they're headed in their beginning.

Specifically, breaking Chap One right after the moment they sort of crack composure completes an arc within the chapter itself, a tipping point, as well as sucking the reader along to the next chapter like a gravitational pull. We're right there with the boys, falling headlong back into each other.

That was a really long answer and I could keep talking about structure, with textual examples from Break Up, infinitely lmao

Thanks for the ask friend <3

#thoughts #break up au #my writing #black sails #silverflint #ask game #writing stuff #somfte-on-main-and-mizzen

[rahleeyah]

People who cannot fucking let you finish a sentence drive me INSANE. my coworker was in the middle of telling me a story when the lady in the next cubicle interrupts our conversation, and calls my coworker over bc the lady wants to tell a completely unrelated story. They talk for a minute and then coworker number one - the one who was interrupted the first time - tells a personal and somewhat scary piece of news she received. Coworker number two interrupts again to tell her a) "oh that happens all the time" and b) "that happened to [person none of us have ever heard of]", completely denying coworker number one the chance to talk about her feelings about her own situation and instead babbling on about nothing, and they keep speaking over each other for a few minutes until coworker number one walks away and I never got to hear the end of the story she came over here to tell me in the first place. This behavior is so fucking disrespectful and it's just how this woman is. She is so nice, and she is never, ever listening to you, and she will never, ever let you express a personal feeling or finish a goddamn sentence. It's so frustrating, it's so rude, it makes me want to scream. Just please for once just please shut the fuck up.

[luvvvvangelssssstories]

What's luvvv?

~ Chapter 4 ~

TW: Just cussin, N word usage and flirting

WRITTEN BY ~ Me (with the support of my bsfs Krissy, Yuri, Andy, Kevo and TJ! Thanks for believing in me when no one else did!)

When we started dating he just got his ass beat. But it was the fact he got his ass beat for me. It's been a week now, DeShawn ain talkin to us and Javier's just friends with everyone still. Me and Deandre? The closets we've ever been. We hated each other since childhood but now we're dating?? The shits crazy. Today me and him finna just watch netflix an shi. "Whatchu wanna watch. AND GET YOUR DIRTY ASS SHOES OFF MY BED! ALWAYS SOMETHIN." he rolls his eyes and flips me off while taking his shoes off. "Anyways I wanna watch spiderman" I pass him the remote and lay down with my hot cheetos.

45 minutes later

"Babe. Respectfully. Miles is so fucking fine. I'd smash." I say while sharing a honey bun with him, "I should be the only one gettin ta smash." he says at me while kissin my cheek. "Technically....in the first one with Miles on it I'd let him smash...you was my boyfriend for only a week so far. He's been my mans for like...eternity." he sits up from his spot, "I'll be ya mans till we die." he turns my head so that way he can kiss me on the lips but as soon as we do my mom walks in, "Ahem. This don't look like no friendship. Look like a goddamn relationship." I feel my cheeks get hot as hell, perks of being black is you will never see me blush. "Uh I was gonna go ina minute Mrs. Aiyannas momma. Uh cya tomorrow." he walks of as if he's embarrased too. Soon as he leaves the house shit goes down. My mom drags me downstairs to face one dad and over protective older brother.

"Guess what I just caught ya damn daughter doing Dante?" dad looks towards me and narrows his eyes "what the fuck you do?" before I can even open my mouth mom says it for me "She was over here kissin a boy with the goddamn door closed. And that only leads ta babies." my older brothers stupid ass just says "Whats his name. Finna beat that niggas ass. On god bro." I push my brother aside. "The only thing u finna beat is ya tiny ass meat. Lonely ass." he flips me off while moms talking about putting me on birth control. After a while I learn how to tune her out. I head upstairs and I see a phone call from Deandre. I call him back and we talk.

D: "Babe. Be real here. That shit was embarrasing as fuck.

A: "Uhm for me. Hows it embarrasing youuu?"

D: "Im the boyfriend of they daughter. Thats just akward on my end."

We go back and forth until I start getting tired. "Lil momma you sound tired as fuck. Go to sleep, schools back in tomorrow anyways." I only sigh out a sleepy "mhm.." then I think "I'm sorry you and DeShawn fell out because of me." he goes from sweet to pissed real quickly. "He put his hands on you, so I don't care" I sink into my pillow while he talks about shit going on. I fall asleep listening to his voice

5:12 A.M

I wake up and I start getting ready for school. It's not until I get out of the shower I notice he's still in the call. He does a face time request and I walk to the mirror. "Mkkk guys! It's time for the GRWM school edition!" I say in my best youtuber voice which makes him laugh "Anyways want me to pick you up? I don't want you on tha bus with DeShawn rude ass." I mumble something "When we first met I was tryna stay off the bus from your rude ass" he flips me off and rolls his eyes in the camera. "Anyways I'm on my way and we can pick up some starbu-" before he can finish that sentence I run downstairs with my phone and poke my head out. "Im ready! Where ya at bae?" He just shakes his head then pulls up 6 minutes later. Once we get my food and drink we head to school where we see DeShawn with this pretty ass girl. I know I have a boyfriend but the was DeAndre's looking at her it makes me feel jealous on the inside. She walks up to Deandre and hugs him. When she hugs him DeShawn smirks as if its apart of his plan.

I know this week finna be hard as fuck to survive through.

PART 5 IS GONNA BE TOMORROW POOKIESSSS

#chapter 4 #black love #black romance #high school love #high school #fem x male #love triangle??? #enemies to lovers #i dont know what to tag this #what do i even tag this as #first time story #black female writers #black female characters #black characters #pink aesthetic #hot pink aesthetic

[meeludrawz]

Here's an ask thing

1. who's your favorite oc?

2. who was your first oc?

3. how many ocs do you have?

4. have you kept all of your

ocs since the beginning?

5. are any of your ocs based

off of a show/book you like?

if so, who?

6. what is the species of the

majority of your ocs?

7. are any of your ocs an

original species? if so,

what's the species and who?

8. if you can, draw (oc name)!

9. write a few sentences as

(oc name)!

10. are any of your ocs part

of a story? if so, what is it

about and who's in it?

11. do you have any twin ocs?

12. are any of your ocs

siblings?

13. what is the gender of the

majority of your ocs?

14. make up a new oc right now

based on (concept/show/color/

etc.)!

15. would you ever give up any

of your ocs?

16. who is your oldest oc

(age-wise)?

17. have you ever roleplayed

as your ocs?

18. how many of your ocs were

adopted from someone else?

19. who is your least favorite

oc?

20. which oc do you think has

changed the most since you

made them?

21. who is your newest oc?

22. have you ever cosplayed

your own ocs? if so, who?

23. which oc do you think has

affected you the most as youve

grown with them?

24. have you gotten cosplayers

of your ocs? if so, of whom?

25. do you have any ocs that

you havent drawn/written as/

talked about in a long time?

if so, who?

(Please ignore this if you either don't want to answer or have had this sent to you already)

Oh boy erm idk, but I do have like 6 mains characters! Matthews, Colefang, Torment, Rosa, Taïko and Meelu! 2. My very first male oc was Matthews! He's hmmmmmmmmm 15 or 14 yrs old now? He's almost like a son to me lmao 3. *Laughs nervously* More than 300? MOST OF THEM ARE BACKGROUND CHARACTERS, whaddya want, when I'm bored I create an oc or two, then I create their kids which is usually more than 3 4. Y e s, even if they're all background characters. Like dude- I spent hours coloring and making their lil family, I won't get rid of them 5. Erm a lot I guess? I have an MLP Next Gen au, I have a TMNT next gen au too, I have some Undertale ocs too, I have an MHA gal but Matthews, his family, friends and lover are based off LPS Toys Matthews was this guy at first, when I didn't know how to draw :3

But I ended up customizing this lps dude so he doesn't look like that anymore (I don't have a pic of him being customized) (Also yes, I kept all my lps toys) 6. Anthros/Furries because I learned drawing animals first! And also cuz my first ocs were lps toys LMAO 7. Yes! I have multiple but the most recent ones are called "Masks" I have made a post about it here: >Click<

8. I'll have to refuse because I will not have the motivation to finish it, but I'm planning to post something about my ocs soon! 9. Okay let's go! Let's write a few sentences as my main ocs Matthews: "I feel energized today! What could I do? Oh! I'll do some snowboard, skateboard, surf, soccer ah let's not forget volleyball!" Colefang: *His two oldest sons are fighting then turn to him* "...I'm not joining, you guys are old enough to figure shit alone... Don't forget the gun I guess" Torment: "My sexuality? As long as someone has an hole for my dick, I'm in" *Winks* Rosa: "Kids? Ugh I hate them- ELIJAH, IVORY IF YOU KEEP BEING LOUD I SWEAR TO HELL- KARSS YOU MOTHER FUCKER TAKE CARE OF YOUR GODDAMN KIDS" *Karss, her husband, pointed out that they're also her kids* Taïko: "You don't understand.. I can't leave my job, they'll kill me if I do.." 10. My main characters all have a story! They're all on the same planet named Andomery! :3 And they will all meet each others at some point 11. Yeah a lot! Matthews eldest daughters ARE twins, Matthews even has a twin brother skskskskksksksksksk 12. Yeah! Matthews has 5 siblings, Colefang has 1, Torment has 9, Rosa has 1, Taïko has 1 and Meelu also has 1 13. I don't know? I know at some point I had lots of girls so I started doing more and more boys to balance this out but at the moment, idk? I think it's balanced now 14. OH erm okay- I made envelopes with little papers in them for each category like- Specie, Gender, Colors.. LET'S MAKE A BABY SKELETON (I need one for my current fanfic lol) FIRST specie, well that's done.. GENDER let's pick number generator and put the max at 3. 1 = Girl, 2 = Boy and 3 = Nonbinary........... It landed on 1 ! A girl! :D Usually, when the character has parents, I pick all colors of both parents then choose randomely, a bit like a breeding game For example, her dad has yellow eyes and her mom are brown, so let's pick: Yellow, Amber, Orange, Bronze and Brown, which are 5 so max on the number generator will be 5. Number generator said 2! So she has amber eyes! So a white skeleton girl with amber eyes! How pretty :3 Idk what I'll name her yet 15. N o p e Tried even doing adopts, but can't 16. Matthews! He's about 14 or 15 yrs old! :D 17. Yes! Always! All the time! For example, in a Warrior Cats rp, I'll just make them look like normal cats and give them a warrior name. If I remember well, Matthews was named BarkFoot? 18. Maybe like 10? I know Meelu's oldest son was adopted from someone else 19. Queen Anastasia Bulcio and Calvin Wade. Anastasia is Matthews' aunt and she's a bitch. But the kind of bitch you don't like. (I'm saying this cuz Rosa is a bitch but I love her) and Calvin.. He's an asshole and Torment's ennemy. That's it lol 20. TORMENT HAHAHA at first he was one of the scariest characters I owned, he made the law in the streets and the king was almost nothing compared to him. But then he found love and now he's an adult-who-act-like-a-horny-troublemaker-teenager-24/7. He's so funny to play! 21. Well, the skeleton we made a few answers ago! 22. TAÏKO BACK WHEN HE WAS A WOLF AND NOT AN ORC! One of my ex-friend makes Fursuits and I was trying to make one too so she helped me, he looked awful. But it was him lol 23. I'd say Meelu, Matthews and Torment. Meelu has this confidence and inner peace that I'd wish I had. (Hi anxiety) Matthews' an optimistic and a bit dumb but his life is much easier since he doesn't worry and I wish I had that buuuut! I'm getting to it! I've been happier in the past few months! And Torment? Well uh I just love how he sees fun in almost anything and how he doesn't take everything seriously 24. Nu I didn't but I hope maybe one day? 25. Well a lot of them actually? Back when I was a child and teenager, I used to rp and play with them a lot but now that I'm an adult, I have less time for them and that's quite sad ngl Thanks for these questions anon! Have a good day/evening!!

#meelu speaks #ask game #andomery #yes

[mercutiodidntdieforthis]

I hate this fucking file. I can't tell the goddamn voices apart, I'm not longer clear on what the hell to include or keep out and I keep getting in trouble for it, they won't stop fucking talking over each other, like shut up and let anyone finish one sentence, oh my fucking Christ, I hate that the instructions I got are vague as all hell and I know I'm going to fuck something up and get in trouble for it. It's already gonna be late because this taking for goddamn ever and I'm gonna be paid so laughably little for this shit.

I'm gonna get fucking fired, and I don't like this job, but I literally don't know what the hell else I'm supposed to do.

#I'm so tired I'm gonna get fucking fired I don't know how to do this shit #it's not entirely my job's fault bc my job didn't make me have a migraine and get my period #my job DID however cause so much stress I zoned out for two hours bc I couldn't handle it :)

[maarriiii]

Cute

A/N: Do I love this? No, not really. Do I like it enough that I want to upload it? Yeah. Am I uploading this cause I haven’t been uploading fics here? Absolutely. Hope you like it 💕💕

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x female!reader

Warnings: None

my masterlist :))

~~

“If you're going to ask me what I think you're going to ask," y/n paused, giving her a friend moment to digest her apparent annoyance. "then I swear to God, Stiles, I would hit you with this book.”

Stiles' brown eyes went wide open at her hostility, and the fact he was already caught when he just sat down.

“What? No.” He prolonged each syllables dramatically. “I'm just here to, uh, see my—to see you. Yeah, that's it. Nothing else. Not wanting to ask you anything at all. Nope.”

y/n shook her head. “God, you say one thing...”

She was only graced with a few seconds of silence before Stiles spoke again. “But, just out of curiosity—”

y/n sighed, knowing where he was going.

“—between me and Isaac, who's the cuter one?”

She didn't believe this whole deal came from the fact that she called him cute instead of a famous celebrity during a movie night at her house with the rest of her friends. Scott had been telling her that Stiles wouldn't shut up about being called cute by the girl who always rejected guys at school whenever they asked her out. Besides Lydia, y/n was the most sought out ever since she moved to Beacon Hills freshman year. Her mysterious aura seemed to entranced everyone that looks her way, that includes Stiles.

y/n thought it was cute how thrilled he was hearing the compliment. y/n pride herself by being blunt and truthful and she wasn't lying when she said Stiles was cute, but he was slowly pushing her buttons with all the questions he asked, comparing him to other guys that are considered good looking to someone's eyes.

“I'm not going to answer that question.”

“Why not?!” He asked, sounding so offended.

y/n turned to face him. “Because you're both my friend.”

“You didn't have any problem when Lydia asked you who's cuter between me and Scott.”

“Well, that was before you started asking me this question every goddamn time, Stiles,” y/n snapped.

“Just this once.” Stiles took her hands and hold it to his chest. “I know how much you prefer Isaac. But, I just want to wipe the smile off of that scarf wearing ass when I told him you choose me over him.”

y/n shook her head, wondering what she did in a past life to deserve this—she was being dramatic over this, sue her. She fully faced her friend, staring right into his hopeful brown eyes with the most serious expression she can mustered. From this distance, y/n could see the tiny little moles scattered on the side of his face—which she might've stare at for a split seconds.

“Stiles,” she began, her voice gentle but still a hint of annoyance. “you are by far the most cutest and good looking person I've ever met. Everyone is beneath you and that includes Isaac Lahey. Happy now, Stilinski?”

He beamed. “You're the best. You are my favorite person in the world. Scott is now my second best friend. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, what—”

Without any warning, which was natural for him, Stiles kissed her cheek. It took y/n a moment to let the action sink in. It felt like her brain was short-circuiting and close to exploding. Stiles watched her expression with wide eyes, wondering whether he should runaway at that very second.

“Did you just—” she was cut off before she could finish her sentence.

“Do you want to go out with me?” He half yelled, slightly panicking.

What in the world is going on, y/n thought. What alternate universe is this and how did she arrive.

“Like on a date?” Her heart did flips at the last word. “The two of us, together?”

“As far as I can remember that is what a date entails, yes.”

When the silence became deafening and y/n kept blinking like she didn’t know what year it was, Stiles thought he was gonna hear the dreaded ‘no’, but life always keeps you surprised.

“Look you don’t have—”

“Yes, I’d love to go out with you,” y/n affirmed, a small smile on her lips.

“You’re kidding, right? You’re saying this out of pity?”

She rolled her eyes, and pressed her lips on his cheek. “No, I’m not kidding. Saturday, 8:30. Don’t be late, Stilinski.”

Before he could say anything, y/n was already standing up and walking away. She left him there, mouth wide open and confused out of his mind. When he finally snap out of it, Stiles chased his soon-to-be date and mentally preparing the best date he will ever pulled off.

#teen wolf #teen wolf movie #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x female!reader #stiles stilinski x f!reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #dylan o'brien #scott mccall #isaac lahey #lydia martin

[rcksmith]

Not you — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Fluff prompts 9, 52 and 53, please? (You can do this whenever you feel like it) Five and Y/n are both hit by one of Hazel and Cha-Cha’s bullets in the Gimbel Brothers store and they immediately go to the academy (Five wants Y/n treated as soon as possible.) after they’re fine, the siblings start to question them on Five’s protectiveness over Y/n”

“Hii could I request 4 & 23 off the fluff prompts for Five pls ty 😌✨”

Fluff prompts:

4. “Sweetheart, you’re my entire world”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

23. “i’ve dreamt about this.”

52. "Help her first."

53. “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

I used here some fragments of the central plot of Five, but, guys, keep in mind that he is 20 years old, and that when he comes back to 2019 Five does not make a mistake in the calculations. I changed the location of the fight too, but a really I hope you, Anon # 1, don't mind.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: blood, mention of death, swearing, fluff too.

— — — — —

You remembered perfectly when you met Five Hargreeves, the commission's golden ball, The Handler's award-winning shamrock. If you closed your eyes, even after years, you could still smell the male cologne wafting in the air, and you could relive the same feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had when he looked at you with those obsedian eyes.

Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. Absurdly gorgeous. But absurdly arrogant, boastful, presumptuous and completely absent of any delicacy in relation to empathy and kindness. He was the type who would open the door for you to enter first, but who would be the first to make fun of your erroneous reasoning.

And that was why, at the time, when you were assigned to be his partner, you lived in conflict with what you really felt. It was a mixture of tantrum and physical attraction.

But unlike all the people around Five, when he spit fire at you with all the anger at his difficult temper, you didn't run. In fact, when it exploded the first time in front of you, you crossed your arms, arched an eyebrow and looked at him with boredom.

“Have you finished your show yet?” You said, as if you didn't care, leaning against the hood of the car while Five screamed through the 7 winds “Stop to imply with everything.”

Five had been your partner for a few months now and it became clearer each day that the irritation was mutual. He made it perfectly clear that you pissed him off until his last hair.

But, unlike you, it was for another reason.

Shit, you were a fucking goddess! Your beauty was notorious, but that was not all that caught his attention. You were smart, canny, brave, Five never saw you in fear of any situation or shaken by any scene of blood. You knew your goals and went after them. It was strong, decisive, and, goddamn, he loved it. You had a fist, you were firm, and you always made it very clear that you were no helpless maiden.

It felt like you had gotten out of his imagination, from the daydreams in which Five rambled about what kind of woman he admired. And, hell, you came with the full package. It was a combination of overwhelming beauty, intelligence, dexterity, and he never thought that someone like that could be real.

But of course you were. And now Five was completely irritated because you were real, and not just another his dream and daydream in which a sublime woman starred.

“To Imply?” Five turned to you, eyes on fire “To Imply?!”

“Like a 2-year-old who didn't take his afternoon nap. It's not the end of time, it doesn't have to be childish.”

Now Five felt himself ignite. He was a dry, rough fire and you were gasoline, igniting everything saw ahead.

Was that damn woman calling he a child?! You?! Just you, the person whose Five wanted to tie the bed and do all kinds of sinful things.

Oh hell no!

Five came forward, furious, like an angry god, his coal eyes never leaving your direction.

“Childish, isn't it?” He snarled “I'm going to show you the childish!”

Five held your face tightly in his hands and pressed your lips to his. Fierce, needy, set on fire, lost in half sentences of feelings about you. He slid his hands to the back of your neck, closing his fingers in your hair and invading your mouth with his tongue, letting you taste the caffeine, danger and lust he had.

You sighed, or Five, or both. You held him as close as he was, with the two of you being on the same mission: to conquer, to take, to possess. But Five had an extraordinary intensity, a magnitude that managed to win you

Then your touch became more docile, your kiss became submissive and you were surrendered. When Five walked away, not with his body, he still held you against him, but with his head, enough to look you in the eye, you sighed.

“I’ve dreamt about this.” You gave up your game, because you couldn't pretend anymore, and Five responded by kissing you again, this time tasting your whole mouth.

After that day, Five and you never came apart. You two were like a dynamic duo, crime partners in the morning and intense lovers at night.

But Five spent so much time with affection, love and caring being denied that when, on a night when work got the best of him, Five fell into the bed you shared in a Motel room, very close to your lap and you smiled sweetly and ran your fingers through his black hair, establishing the affection there, Five was catatonic.

His wild mind wanted to take it away and go, tell you to swallow those loving gestures and that he would never need them. That they were a nuisance, a distraction.

But his body and heart... well, they begged Five to stay another second. Just one more second enjoying that touch, the care, the importance that someone felt for him. He liked to be pampered, who knew.

So he ended up falling asleep with your touch and, after that day, Five realized that if his body and heart couldn't get any further from you, then no one would ever take you away from him. You would stay with him, until the end. As long as you wanted to stay.

And you wanted to. You wanted all the stages, all the moments, all the fights. You wanted Five, completely. And after some time like that, he said that you two were going to get married. It wasn't a request, it wasn't a speculation, it was a fact and that's it. You laughed, it was Five's style to be embarrassed about something and treat it more coarsely, just because he didn't know how to deal with the emotions he felt.

“Of course I do.” You reassured him by bringing your hands to his face, tracing affectionate circles on his cheek with your thumb.

“You would have no other option.” He grunted, not looking at you, trying to divert attention from his own racing heart.

You laughed and sealed the future of the two of you with a kiss.

After five years of making it official, Five said he had found a way for him to get home. And as he spoke, you noticed a flickering hesitation in his eyes. You knew, at that moment, that Five would leave it behind if there was a chance that you wouldn't want to go along. He promised to love you, in joy and sadness, in difficult times and in good times, and he never broke a promise.

Five Hargreeves would stay for you. In 1963, in 1988, in 2019, it didn't matter the season, the year. It wouldn't be worth anything if didn't have you by his side.

But, like him, it was logical that you would never abandon him, ever. So you went along. It was together in the murder in 1963, it was together at the time of the target, and it was together when he jumped in the portal. You were with Five when he reunited with his family, they all amazement by the 13 year old little brother who disappeared to reappear as a man of 25. On top of that accompanied by a girl.

But Five still couldn't administer his emotions properly, he still couldn't say that he missed his brothers and that being without his family had been terrible. His past contained many shipwrecks and he did not know how to open up about it. After so many years alone and then killing without any judgment, it was difficult to connect with emotions.

So, instead of saying everything that screamed inside him, after just some time with the siblings he took your hand and pulled you out, telling the Hargreeves that he would go after a decent coffee.

“I wish I could have talked to them better.” You grumble whit Five and he rolled his eyes.

“As if they were going to understand the things you were going to explain.” He murmured, covering the whole issue of the Commission and time jumps.

“This is not difficult to explain.” You raised your left hand, signaling the silver circle that hugged your finger.

Five laughed, sipping his coffee.

“You will be my wife forever, there is plenty of time for you to tell that.”

But as soon as Five's words had just left your lips, blowing in the air like fog, the door to the store opened, and you two didn't have to turn around to find out who they were. Years on the commission have earned you enough training to even recognize the sound of their footsteps.

The exchange of looks that Five and you gave was enough to know what each one was thinking and how they would act. That was your secret language, the superpower that you two shared. No words were needed to understand each one like the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath, while your fingers on your right hand steadied yourself on the coffee cup and Five on the knife. There was no waiting for speeches, exchanging words, you both knew that the Commission would send the best agents besides you, and Hazel and Cha-Cha were not known to be late at work.

Then the action started, Five turned and teleported with the knife, shoving it into the leg of one of the agents covered in rabbit masks. You didn't stay behind and swivel your chair around, throwing the sizzling coffee into the second's hands, causing him to drop the gun on the floor. You didn't wait to kick him in the chest, making him stagger backwards as you got up from the chair. You and Five were good, but so was Hazel and Cha-Cha, and you couldn't count on the powers to dodge physical attacks.

Everything was very fast indeed, windows were broken, punches were exchanged, blood was plucked. But when you looked to the side and saw who was probably Cha-Cha pushing Five against a broken glass stake, you understood why love at work was so dangerous. You understand completely. Because you've lost your focus. It took a thousandth of an instant for years of training and improvement to be thrown out the window. Only the possibility of Five getting hurt got you off track, and that was fatale.

The agent who fought with you took advantage of your distraction, reaching for the gun that was on the floor in that split second. And a shot reverberated through the place.

Suddenly, the world for Five stopped the axis. Everything was suspended, appalled, frozen. And in that very second, his body shivered from head to toe, as if misfortune had sighed in his neck. Five Hargreeves never feared anyone, even death itself. But as soon as he heard the sound of the shot, Five tasted death. Was rough, metallic and cruel, the blood drained from the body and the world released a dark and funeral note, sinking into a black sea.

Because fear is not the bullet hitting you, but someone you love.

Five turned back, eyes wide, hands shaking, and he didn't know what was beating faster: his fear or his heart.

He would remember that moment as the most cruel and frightening of his entire life, years in the apocalypse and killing had no comparison to the terror that was seeing your white shirt start to be stained with blood, the bullet hole marking your abdomen. You looked up at him, shocked, livid, and Five could see death perfectly, pulling the vitality out of your eyes.

He didn't think, he didn't reason, he just teleported himself to you, taking your body in his arms and teleported you two away from there. Five’s hands were shaking, a visceral pain snaking through his body and suffocating him with the worst sensation Five had ever felt in his life.

He took you both to the Hargreeves mansion in the blink of an eye, his powers failing when the blue flash left you both in the giant living room.

“Five!”

Maybe it was Luther's voice, or Klaus, or Diego, he didn't know. Everything was a distant echo, a note submerged in the water. Five saw or heard nothing but your body in his arms, your eyes closed and face frighteningly pale, his right hand, which was pressing on your wound, was already soaked in blood.

It was too much blood, the smell was overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was in despair.

Hands touched his shoulders, and Grace's voice was heard in the background. But he didn't want treatments, whatever the goddamn his wounds were going to be.

“Help her first!” Five shouted, his voice finding strength in the terror he felt. And also in fury.

The Handler would pay for that, and so would Hazel and Cha-Cha. And, by God, the whole world would pay if you never opened your eyes again.

“Right now.” Maybe it was Pogo “But, Five, are you…”

“No!” He ordered “She first!”

Then Grace's hands took you out of his arms and Five refused to leave you for even a second. He was beside you at the operating table, holding your hand, with him bloody fingers of your blood and the agent he had fought.

But Five didn't care about the himself state, the people around it, or anything. His eyes were focused on you, his face frozen in a livid expression.

And when Grace said that you would need a blood transfusion and Five barely let her finish speaking before rolling up the manga and extending his arm, the siblings Hargreeves and Pogo were shocked. What they saw in Five's eyes was not a man afraid of losing someone, but of losing the person he loved.

I shouldn't have come back. Was Five's first thought when the surgery ended well and you were still asleep. It was his fault that you almost died. And everything was buzzing in Five's head like a propellant.

“So…”

Klaus appeared in the kitchen, with the siblings, while Five was washing the blood from his hands, now calmer since you were alive.

“That was heavy.” Luther let out a little gasp, a kind of choked laugh.

“Aren't you going to tell us what happened?” Allison sat at the table.

“She almost died because of my decision, that's what happened.” Five replied, turning and picking up a cloth from the table, drying his hands.

“Five...” Allison made his eyes go towards his sister “Who is she, actually ?”

Five gave a bitter laugh. Who were you? How would he explain it?

You are everything. The reason wake up everyday was good, what made the summer breeze and the sun's rays warm, the reason why his world was still spinning.

Who were you? It was absolutely everything for Five.

“Someone very important.” His whispered escaped.

“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Luther looked at Five in shock, as if the possibility of him having a girlfriend was absurd.

“No.” Five looked at Luther with fire in his eyes, his voice hoarse “That girl is my wife!”

The room's breath evaporated, everyone was dumbfounded and bewildered. But Grace came in at that moment, saving Five from continuing that conversation.

“She woke up.” His mother's voice was soft, and Five dropped everything he was doing and disappeared into the blue flash.

The first thing he noticed when he entered that room was you sitting on the bed, your back against the headboard.

“Hey...” the smile you gave made Five's world spin again.

He didn't wait a second before walking up to you in quick steps, holding your face in his hands and sealing your lips in a desperate kiss, as if that could prove that everything was fine.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered against your lips, hands shaking, thumbs stroking yours cheeks.

“Bad vase doesn't break early.” You joked and Five laughed softly, his forehead touching your. “Were you hurt?”

He denied it, still with you, as if letting you was impossible. Maybe it was.

“I got distracted, I'm sorry that we let them escape and...”

Five interrupted your sentence

“Sweetheart…” You stopped, bewitched by his tone of voice “You’re my entire world.”

Five wasn't calling Hazel and Cha-Cha right now. He would kill that entire Commission later. Later. Now the only thing that mattered was you.

“I shouldn't have broken our contracts with the commission. I shouldn't have put you in this.” He said “But ... but I am very selfish, and even though I knew it would be better to let you go back to the Commission, I cannot live without you...”

“Hey, I not go come back.” You held his hands that were on your face, looking at him with love "My place is with you.”

“I promise you that I will never let anyone else hurt you. Even if I have to kill every single person on this planet. ” Five guaranteed “There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe. ”

You smiled, put your lips together in a passionate kiss and whispered:

“I only need you, my love. Forever.”

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