#i would totally suck the dark impulse out of him

[mikeysbabygirl]

*me, at internship, daydreaming about Mikey rearranging my guts and organs*

My professor : Doctor Lina, what's the best treatment for left-sided colorectal cancer ?

Yeah... Call it a switch...

( still managed to get the answer though DW )

#mikey just fuck me #wish this boy was real #i would totally suck the dark impulse out of him #manila mikey #bonten mikey #kanto manji mikey #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro sano #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers spoilers

[emotionallychargedtowel]

about that Minato's Laundromat season 2 storyline...

As your resident psychology PhD I'm commenting on this even though I would rather forget about the whole thing and just hope it's over soon. But I haven't been able to restrain myself from ranting about it privately, so I may as well rant here.

Setting aside what I think of this as a plot device (what I think is that it sucks), this is even more unrealistic than most TV and film portrayals of traumatic brain injuries, or TBIs, which as a whole are abysmal. (Please note that "traumatic" in this context refers to a sudden tissue injury due to an accident or violence, not to the person having a traumatic experience, though of course the two things can totally co-occur.)

If I can take a step back for a second, once you learn anything at all about traumatic brain injury so many plotlines in TV series and movies become incredibly frustrating. How many times have you seen a character bonk another on the head as a convenient way to render them unconscious only to find that soon afterward, the person who's been hit in the head wakes up practically unscathed after a convenient span of time has passed? I have no doubt that there are people who have taken these portrayals seriously and hit others hard enough to cause a TBI because they thought it wasn't a big deal. I'm equally sure that the prevalence of this trope has had an effect on TBI survivors's difficulties being taken seriously. It's pernicious and it makes me so angry. TBIs aren't the type of thing that you typically just walk away from in the same condition you were in before they happened, and they shouldn't be portrayed that way in media.

Back to the Minato's Laundromat plotline. Shin sustains a pretty serious fall-related TBI. He appears to have been unconscious for a good while since it looks like a bright afternoon (maybe early evening at the latest) when he falls and it's dark when Minato sees him and is told he regained consciousness not long before. It seems like he was unconscious for more than half an hour but it hasn't been 24 hours yet, which puts him in the range for his injury to be considered a moderate TBI. Don't let the label fool you--a moderate TBI is a very big deal. People with moderate TBIs can experience personality changes, cognitive deficits, and all sorts of other major issues.

Loss of memory is common with TBIs, but the most common type of amnesia with a TBI pertains to events just before or just after the injury occurred. Retrograde amnesia, where you can't remember what happened just before the injury, is rather common. Anterograde amnesia, where you don't remember events after the injury, can happen too. But forgetting details about your life? That is not a common symptom.

Guess what's even less common? You guessed it: the kind of highly specific amnesia Shin has in Minato's Laundromat. Forgetting one specific relationship or person isn't unheard-of in psychology, but it's almost always selective amnesia related to a traumatic experience. It's like an extreme defense mechanism in which the person unconsciously blocks out a whole swath of their experiences. The information that gets lost is linked not by its location in the brain, but by a semantic link--a link based on the meaning assigned to those memories. Loss of semantically-linked memories is associated with psychological causes, not physical ones. This kind of symptom is based on thoughts and emotions, not brain structures.

The effects of TBIs, on the other hand, are related to the location of an injury and the functions of whatever portions of the brain are impacted by that injury. Brain localization is the phenomenon whereby different parts of our brains are responsible for different functions. For example, our frontal lobes house a lot of our executive functioning abilities, so a TBI mostly affecting someone's frontal lobe could make them more impulsive, less able to plan effectively, and so forth. Or if a person sustained an injury to their Broca's Area (a spot near the front of the left hemisphere that is important for speech), they would likely have difficulties communicating. If Shin had an "all about Minato" section of his brain and it got hit when he fell, then sure, it would make some sense if he lost his Minato-related memories. But that's not how our brains work--except in that one genre of cartoon humor where we see inside someone's brain and each of the things they care about has its own little region. But Shin isn't a cartoon character. His memories of Minato aren't housed in one specific place separate from his memories of other important people in his life.

I dug around and found that there have been some cases of selective amnesia due to TBI. However, these are vanishingly rare, with only a handful of case studies and nowhere near the amount of data that would be needed to draw any generalizable conclusions (in other words, any facts we could apply to other cases). If Shin was a real person and he forgot about his relationship with one important person in his life due to a TBI, this would be so unusual that psychologists and psychiatrists would have come from miles around to observe him and he would likely have had his case written up in a neuropsych journal, after which it may have ended up in more widely-read publications. He also would likely have been kept for observation much longer than the period we saw in the show.

But the weirdest thing about his case, if he were a real person, would be that he is suffering such an intense amnesia symptom and yet has no other symptoms of note. Moderate TBIs can have very severe effects. They can change your personality, cause serious difficulties with communication, trigger seizures, sharply increase someone's risk of substance abuse--I could go on but you get the idea. The effects are often profound. Many people who experience a moderate TBI develop a serious disability as a result. Occasionally, people who experience a moderate TBI can get lucky and avoid the worst kinds of symptoms. But to have one highly unusual and severe symptom and no others would be extremely weird.

Once again, we find that a media portrayal of TBI is highly unrealistic. Worse, it's trivializing. Honestly, treating a TBI in this way, as a cheap ploy to further a romance plot, is pretty ableist.

Sometimes we suspend disbelief about this kind of thing when we watch visual media. There are so many other psychological diagnoses and symptoms that are inaccurately portrayed and generally overused. For example, how many TV and movie characters have had a "split personality" that bore no resemblance to actual experiences of Dissociative Identity Disorder? But if a show or movie is going to use something like this to advance a plot, they need to make it count. It needs to serve a real purpose that couldn't be accomplished just as easily by other means. And that's simply not true in this case.

The only solution to the issues created by this plotline would be to resolve it as quickly as possible and allow the characters to move on, preferably memory-holing it completely, like that time on Friday Night Lights that (spoiler alert) Landry murdered a guy and then no one ever spoke of it again.

#minato's laundromat 2 #minato shouji coin laundry 2 #minato's laundromat #minato shouji coin laundry #the shin amnesia plotline #psychology of BL

[hitomisuzuya]

Yandere! Wanderer NSFW Headcanons. Fem!reader. Smut. Obsessive and possessive behavior. Somnophilia.

a/n: Welcome to suzu after dark tonight, everyone. These headcanons can count for both Scaramouche and Kunikuzushi as well since they are all essentially the same person, but I woke up feeling affectionate and love for Wanderer today, which would equal to feeling love and affection for Scara so. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy❤️ tagging my lovelies @xxventiswindblumexx @kichikichiko and @that-one-gay-writer1227 cause they are a fan of my Yandere stuff.

Companion song- Killpop by Slipknot.

Wanderer remembered the day he discovered he was prone to sudden intense infatuation. And that only learned that about himself because it was the first time he'd seen you.

He knew you were meant to be with him and him with you.

He wouldn't ever feel that way about anyone else. That much he was sure of. That's how he knew you were the one for him. Especially since what happened when he saw you for the first time.

You were calming down a frightened horse. You were firm but gentle with the horse, calming him down almost instantly with your voice even though he was acting like a total brat. He liked that you stood your ground but excepted and accepted the horse's flippant and bratty behavior.

Wanderer had that exact same qualities and knew you would accept him for who he was and challenge him in ways that made him shiver, thrilled at the thought.

Now since Wanderer was typically our wandering everywhere, no one would suspect his ulterior motive in following you from a distance.

Stalking you out of love.

He hardly ever let you out of his sight. And if he couldn't be around you, he always knew where you were. He had the favor of the wind. He could use it however he pleased.

Wanderer would always follow. You liked to take walks in the forests of Sumeru when you needed quiet time. And you could play with the animals and even played with some small Fungai that seemed to like affection. He didn't understand that but at the same time he could.

He craved your affection. And your devotion.

It was months before Wanderer made the move to talk to you.

He would always watch you from trees. Never letting you get out of sight before he moved to his next tree.

In fact, he knew you noticed him sometimes. I mean it wasn't hard for you to at least realize he was there.

Because sometimes he got too close.

He becomes obsessed with touching you.

Obsessed with needing to smell you.

Gripped with the obsessive impulse to feel you.

To snake out his arms and snatch you right up.

After cleverly inserting himself into your life and starting a relationship with you, Wanderer discovered you liked to take naps outdoors, he would always stand guard over you from whatever tree he perched in.

Nothing and no one was going to get near you.

Nothing and no one but him.

Wanderer covered all his bases before he did this.

He charmed your friends into telling him whatever he asked about you. He had his ways.

Wanderer checked out every book he could get his hands on regarding your interests. Especially books on horses.

He read everything he could on the subject as it was the one that mattered to you the most.

Not even Nahida knew about his intentions. She'd been pushing him to find out as much of the world as he could so that made her happy and kept her out of his hair while he focused on his favorite obsession.

You.

Wanderer carefully (and impatiently) waited until the right moment to hop down from the tree he was sitting in.

There were now marks of possession all over your body. You starting to let him get handsy and letting him bite and suck on your skin while you kissed him passionately.

He kissed you back you back but with obsessive passion.

Wanderer smoothly landed next to you, literal poetry in motion, a grace unrivalled.

You were sleeping so deeply. Completely relaxed and asleep.

Perfect.

Like how you were perfect for him.

He crawled on top of you, sinking his teeth into your neck. You mewled in your sleep. Murmuring his name.

This was going better than he imagined! Now you were dreaming about him fucking you.

"These can never fade. Never. Never ever"

He harshly suck at already deep bruises, making them deeper. He had to keep you marked at all times. You were his, after all. Didn't you know that?

His hands tore at your clothes, exposing your breasts, oh so perfectly sized.

It looked like your body was tailor made just for him to enjoy.

Enjoy whenever he pleased.

"These are perfect. You were made for me. Made all for me."

His hands would grope and pinch your nipples. Drooling all over them as a sign of further dominance.

"You don't need these. They don't serve any purpose for me or for you."

He discarded your pants and your panties.

He moved his way down your body, bitting sucking and licking.

Every move he made was obsessive and possessive.

You were his. Only his. And all his.

Wanderer spread your legs, holding them open.

"Don't worry, no one is every going to see. I'll kill anyone the instant they come too close. Nothing is going to see or hurt my pretty, perfect girl. You are for my eyes only."

He groaned, shivering in ecstasy when he plunged his tongue between the folds of your wet cunt.

He made you cum on his tongue, obsessed with tasting you for the first time. He made you writhe and cry out for him in your sleep.

It was an intimate experience from Wanderer.

He'd watched until the perfect time to lay his claim on you, making you cum for the first time while you were completely defenseless.

Wanting him and needing him even while you slept.

This was the first step in his plan to mold and shape you like he wanted. It showed that you trusted him to have his way with your body while you sleeping.

Now that he knew that he could do that he could mold and shape you to his will.

Even more perfect than you already were.

You would submit to him. In every way.

Even in your sleep.

Wanderer needed you to need him all the time.

You balanced out the darkness inside of him. The quiet and controlled insanity.

He needed you to keep him sane.

He loves you.

He loves you so much.

He would alway be by your side.

And Wanderer never doubted that you wouldn't leave him.

You would be his. All his.

You were his perfect, pretty darling.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin headcanons #wanderer #yandere wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #suzu after dark

[thatbanditqueen]

No One Walks Out Chapter 2

No One Walks Out On Big Daddy

Chapter 2: Sweet Baby

Summary: Elvis convinces Becky to come out with him and she gets to know him better. Angst and smut and fluff and smut and angst ... historical inaccuracies.... for instance, I know Larry only did hair but he does make-up in this fic for narrative agility.

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, cunnilingus, gratuitous chest nuzzling, sex, cursing, drug use and alcohol, some mild weird mind games and jealousy, a toe suck if you don't blink.

Sorry about the typos I've been agonizing over this since I finished it Friday,not totally happy with how it is but it was fun to write...

Words: 14K

Catch up on Chapter One here

There will be a chapter three, but for the love of big daddy please like, reblog, comment, share with your maiden aunt if you enjoy this fic.

This is playlist of music from 1970 - 1975 that I've been listening to get into the time period because I'm a huge dork.

Monday, June 9,th 1975, Jackson, Mississippi

Approximately 6:10 pm

About ten minutes since we begin in Chapter 1….

You glared at Elvis over folded arms, resolve hanging on by a thread, tempted to give in and go with him, but also, stuck. The heat of irrational anger and competition burned your chest. You weren’t even sure what this contest of wills was about, but you didn’t want to loose. You looked up at the ceiling, the fluorescent light flickered, and you wicked the sweat off your arms, vaguely aware you hadn’t slept, you hadn’t showered, and you hadn’t eaten much in the last 24 hours. A notion poked you at the edge of your consciousness that these factors had probably impaired your judgement, and maybe you weren’t making good decisions. This was, of course, true. All rational thought had been derailed by a night spent drinking, smoking pot and fucking Elvis Presley. Who, unlike you, hadn’t skipped sleep in order to rush home, get a kid to school and then go to work. No, Elvis had spent his day in rock star land where he could sleep as long as he wanted, eat breakfast at 3 or 4 pm and enjoy a leisurely shower. God he smelled amazing.  

You, well, you had started to smell worse and worse and worst as the day wore on.  There was no way you were going anywhere that involved getting naked with him. No. Last night had been the best night of your life, but you know how this ends, rock stars don’t date single moms who manage hardware stores.  They date beauty queens and movie stars, usually all at once. Where could this possibly go? Just be done with him, rip the band aid off now. Stand your ground. What was he going to do, throw you over his shoulder and carry you off into the night? You looked back over. Elvis was leaning  into the doorjamb, his hands resting on the front of his hips, under the slight rotund swell of his belly, fingers spread wide over the sides of his belt. Eyes closed behind tinted sunglasses, you watching his adam’s apple bob up and down as he breathed steadily and stifled rage transformed into an eerie zen demeanor.

A minute ago he had hurled a torrent of swear words your way, it had been terrifying, yet, strangely arousing. You pushed the giddy tingle at the center of your hips down, thinking what the fuck is wrong with you? The guttural  grain of Elvis’ “goddammit” had gone straight from his tongue to your clit, igniting a fire that simmered in your belly. You had never seen such intense masculine emotion. Almost all the men in your life had been tight lipped and stern, yet very passive aggressive when angry. Not Elvis. He was a walking hurricane, unpredictable, impulsive, volatile. It was exciting and terrifying. However, right now, he was completely calm, seemingly meditating and quietly whispering to himself. Someone walking in would never know he had been screaming at you and punching the door frame moments ago. He turned to look at you, opening his eyes. They were dark, piercing, almost a purplish black through the lavender sunglasses. You could feel the air leave his throat as you watched him exhale again, and moved in your direction. The hair on your back stood straight up and you squeezed your arms tighter against your chest. Elvis’ tall frame hovered above you, his gut pressing into you with each inhale, his breath filling the space between you with warmth. Elvis’ entire body oppressively overwhelmed you. The cold metal of his rings caressed your cheek and his voice was now calm and low, yet commanding.

“You don’t know me very well.” He sighed into your neck. “Tell me I cain’t do somethin’, an’ well, honey … that just 'bout guarantees I’m gonna do it….” His lips moved closer to your left ear, he leaned on one hand against the wall next to your head, the other pulled your arms slowly away from your chest. Heat sizzled at the base of your spine as you looked down, his fingers grasped your hand tenderly.

“I can tell you ain’t never been with a real man before…. A man who treated you good …” then he whispered, “took care a’ his baby…. if you know what I mean?” He waggled his eye brows, while his fingers traced along your jaw, then down over your breast to your tummy and hips. “Took care ‘a you so good, you always came when he called.”  

His lips moved closer to your left ear as he spoke, a feverish heat tingling through your lobe, a crooked smirk raised the left side of his mouth. You say nothing, but your breath hitches in your throat as he pushes even closer, his lips almost on your neck, and you shake your head, looking down. Don’t cry you tell yourself, but you exhale with a loud, stilted tremble.

“Shhh, shhhh s’ok honey,” Elvis' left hand moves from gently rubbing your hip to trail up and down your side. ”Cuz I’m gonna show you what s’like to be with a real man.” He leaned closer, kissing the nape of your neck, his soft lips searing into the spot below your ear.  “I always take care a my girl.” You gasped as the warmth from each word hit your neck as he continued.

“I see you. I’m a seer…and I see ya, Becky, I see you. Underneath all this stubborn bitch crock of shit you putting up, you’re just a scared lil' girl… scared of being hurt, scared of being happy, scared of how good it was with me last night.” He paused, breathing deeply through his nose, and you looked down, shaking you head, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up into his dark purple eyes and the promise you saw in them to over power you, to break you, to own you completely. 

“S’ok… Cuz I’m gonna fuck ya so good, the only words you’re gonna know to say when I’m done with you are ‘yes daddy.’”  Your breath hitches in your throat and your eyes remain locked on Elvis, trying to summon contempt and indifference, even as the spark in your core blooms up your chest. Elvis’ fingers work their way under your shirt, gently soothing you across your belly, and up over your bra before resting on top of your chest. A whimper escapes your mouth, and you look up, your voice cracking as you feel your resolve melting away.

“Elvis… I can’t….”

“Shhh… see, that’s the fear I’m talking’ bout right there… “

He leaned in and nuzzled the side of your cheek with his nose, gently rubbing up your jawline, his right hand over your heart, his left moving down to stroke your side.

“Shhhhh little girl…. Shhhh…. I ain’t gonna hurt ya …”

“It’s not that..” You whisper, your eyes averting his. “It’s just… I’m a mess… I haven’t showered, or ate much, or slept… I’m so exhausted… you deserve a proper date … you should be picking up a beauty queen or a play boy bunny…”

You felt the vibrations through his tummy, pressed further into you, as Elvis chuckled.

“Why, do y’all even have any of ‘em bunnies here in Jackson?” He stepped back, motioning to leave. Another chuckle, and he was flourishing a silk paisley handkerchief from his breast pocket, holding your chin up as he wiped your eyes and your forehead. The apples in his cheek formed as he matched your reluctant grin.

“Go on baby, stick out your tongue.”

You furrowed your brow, twitching your mouth, as he reached in to his pocket.

“Stop a twitchin’, for the love of Jesus. Les try one of those ‘yes daddys’ I was talking ‘bout…”

You scoffed. “I will never say that, specially to someone who tells me to…”

He looked down at an assortment of pills in his hand, and pulled out a single, small white capsule, grinning.

“We’ll see ‘bout that… mean time, just stick out yer tongue, woman!”

With a humpf, you acquiesced, and Elvis dropped the pill on your tongue, pushing it back in your mouth.

“Trust me, you’re gonna feel better in a few minutes… s’like caffeine, but a lil' stronger. ”

Swallowing, you look into his eyes. “What was that, speed?”

“Do I look like a drug dealin’ commie? I’m a federal drug enforcement agent.” You cracked a grin, and his eyes grew serious. “That’s the god’s honest truth. This stuff is jus ‘scription medicine, a diet pill. S'not strong, ain’t gonna get you high. Trust me, I’ve studied this stuff... I’m a trained healer - told you last night….”

“Ok… but I’m still a mess…”

“You’re not a complete mess. Goddamn, check out this fine lookin’ belt. Man, that’s really sumpthin'.” He grinned, amusement in his voice as his hands slowly pulled off your orange work vest from the top of your shoulders, then moved to the buckle of your belt. His belt. The belt you took as a souvenir back when this was just a one night stand. Elvis soft mouth was on your neck again, and your arms somehow found their way over his shoulders. Just as he moved his mouth from your neck to lean in and kiss you, you hesitated and pulled back.

“I - I …. I don’t know if —“

His finger moved up from their efforts to unhook your jeans.

“Hush now… no more guff. I’m here because something happened last night. I know you felt it. S’like we’re vibrating on the same frequency….”

“Elvis, you’re crazy…”

“No, now listen… I … my bed felt so cold when I woke up and you were gone… I’ve been missin' ya all damn day…  wasn’t gonna be able to do anything else til I found ya…”

His timbre was high pitched, and you heard it crack with vulnerability. His eyes filled with unabashed desire. Somehow in the last few minutes, Elvis’ temperament had gone from indignant swagger to sweet and needy. His right hand moved lower to fondle your left breast, his soft lips kissed your ear, and you tilted your head into him. It was freeing in away, to give up pretenses, and you let out a sob, releasing all the tension you were holding in. Elvis moved his hand from under your bosom and kissed your tears away. His face was framed by the soft, plush rounds of his double chin, and you leaned your forehead into them seeking out the warm comfort of his flesh. You would be happy to sink farther and farther into him and loose yourself in his snug, inviting body. 

“Shhhh … s’ok…” Elvis’ arms encircled you, and you buried yourself head forward into his neck, collapsing on his shoulder. His hips thrust forward into you, the swell of his belly smushed up into your breasts. Steady and strong, his hands smoothed you over your back, his mantra of murmured shsshhhhs continuing as he cheekily pulled the hem of your shirt over your head. You helped him, shaking the last sleeve off your arm impatiently and throwing it on the ground.

His lips were now on yours, gently kissing you, then bringing your head towards him, his tongue sliding into your mouth, sweeping over yours, daring you to push back, to resist it. Your hands gripped him at his neck, drawing him down further into your mouth, his finger fervently grabbed your hips and lifted you up, cupping your ass and you wrapped your legs around him. 

You felt him grunt and heave slightly as he carried you to the desk at the back corner of the room, his eyes unyielding, locked on yours, anchored by stormy dilated pupils.

“Gawd darlin’…I’m getting to oooooold to sweep lil’ girls like you off your feet.”

“Next time I’ll sweep you off your feet.”

“Honey, they’d be sweeping us both off the floor if you tried ta carry me across a room….” He grinned a breathy grin as he put you down.

Your bra was on the floor, followed by his jacket, and you squinted for a moment at the gun tucked into his waist. He smirked as he took it out and threw it on top of his jacket.

“There are three more, baby, wanna try to find them?”

Your breasts heave up as a guffaw slipped over your lips, but you forgot about his guns as Elvis pulled down your jeans, slowing to gently take your shoes off. He brought your left foot up to his cheek, nuzzling against your warm, soft skin, kissing the top of your arch, then following suit to take off the other one, reverently, slowly, removing the sock and then stroking the top of both feet as he looked forward into the center of your black cotton panties. You squirmed, suddenly self conscious and he bit his lower lip, hungry eyes meeting yours as his hands moved up your ankles towards your thighs. You shivered when the top of his index fingers delicately traced a line over your knees, clenching as he grasped the sides of your panties. Your hand went to Elvis’ shoulder.

“Hey… wait… why are you doing this? ”

“Figure I wanna do as much of this ‘fore I get too old,” he murmured, grinning up at you.

You smiled back, tousling his hair, exhaling.

“That’s not what I meant …. I meant …. like….… you can just, ya know, I mean we can just…you don’t really have to worry ‘bout, you know, doing this for me.” 

You pulled on his collar, but Elvis resisted, swiping your hands away and slapping your hip, an expression of delight on his face as he watched your side ripple in response. He pulled off your panties, leaning closer to your muff while looking up at you.

“Listen good, this is the last time I’m gonna ‘splain this. I’m a grown man, I don’t do anything I don’t want to. Now, lean back… and jus remember to breathe.“ He winked, a silly grin growing as he lifted your legs over his shoulders, kissing the hair at your entrance before parting you with his mouth and pushing in, tongue first. 

The vibrations of Elvis deep moan reverberated through your pussy, his shoulders heaved up and his whole body moved in rhythm, slowly licking you from your taint to your clit, savoring your soft, slick silkiness. 

He paused, sitting back to remove his glasses, murmuring to himself as his thumb worked in circles around your nub and you found yourself moaning out, uncontrollably. 

“You need to get me some windshield wipers for those…” he looked at you, clearly amused with himself as you giggled. “We coulda been back in my hotel room doin' this if you weren’t so difficult…. never met a more stubborn woman… “

You moan, looking off to the side, as he rounded the bend of your clit, then lowered his fingers, flicking his wrist to slowly push his right index finger inside of you.

“This ok, baby?”

You nodded, you neck arched back as you cried out. Elvis was touching you in a way no other man had ever touched you, had ever wanted to or cared to try.   

“Want me ta keep going?

You nodded your head, breathy whimpers stuttering out.

“Know what I wanna hear…”

“Yes…… Elvis….” You smirked.

“So goddamn stubborn…” he shook his head, leaning backing into your hips, his mouth consuming your pussy, his tongue now stroked you softly and each flick made you shiver with a tingle. A burning fire coiled behind your belly as he moved his index finger in and out in time with the bob of his head, groaning into you. The sensation became almost too intense and your head thrust back, eyes looking up at the ceiling. Shifting your weight onto your wrists, you begin to move your hips forward to meet his mouth, surging to chase the tension building in your core as Elvis’ lapped and then sucked your clit, index finger rotating slowly within you. You found his finger somewhat distracting, and were just about to ask him to stop, when he hit a spongey nerve point inside you and your hips jerked back. You feel Elvis chuckle as he pulled up for air, his left hand holding up your hips to bring you back closer while he crooked his finger inside you. Each time the pad of his finger hit that spot you twitched.

“What is that? Ahhhh! Ughhh…” you cry out, your breath heavy because the sensation is so intense, it terrifies you. Elvis wipes his mouth on your thigh, his thumb is back at it, and he seems to delight in every twitch of your belly as you clench around his finger. 

“That… that’s the magic spot, lil' girl… Can’t believe I’m the first one to find it…” his eyes found yours, and he swallowed, deeply. “Goddamn. You’re blushing like a nun…”

You cannot take your eyes off him, even as his finger flexes and crooks into you and your mouth flinches open with a loud, insuppressible, high-pitched moan. 

“Hff, baby….you look like a scared kitten staring down the mouth of a gator…. ‘fraid he’ll snap ya right up…” he gnashed his teeth together loudly, for effect, exhaling deeply with another chuckle, before returning to lap at your clit, dragging his tongue slowly over it, up it and down it, and then all the way around it.

Your thighs quiver on his cheeks and you let out another squeak, embarrassed. The feeling of impending eruption terrifies you, and another powerful moan emerges unsummoned through your lips, half from pleasure, half from fear. You’re torn between your drive to climax and the almost unbearable sensation his tongue is beckoning from you. The dexedrine begins to take effect, and a wave of energy pulses through you. Every sensation is suddenly ten times more intense. A volcano erupting, your orgasm bursts forth and shocks you as you thrash into Elvis’ nose, crying out while the euphoria sweeps over your body.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD, oh my god…” He leans back, watching with a coy smirk as he thumbs you through it, wiping his mouth again on his right sleeve this time, his left hand holds you steady at your hips.

“Elvis stop, stop! I can’t take it any more.”

“Ok honey, s’ok, now,” he beamed, slowing the flick of his wrist, gently drawing out his index finger. “Man, twitching and clenchin’ so hard thought I might lose my damn finger in there… think I’ll call you Twitch for short. ”

You let out a loud snort, slapping the side of Elvis’ head playfully as he smirks up at you, leaning back on his haunches, now wiping himself on his pants.

“You make my ….  my … my nether regions sound dangerous …” 

Elvis’ right hand smoothes your pubic hair down. 

“Nah, nothing I can’t handle, baby…. just needs to be tamed is all…” he winked.

“So, come tame me…” you offer, laying further back on the desk top, caressing the side of his face with your left toes. He brings them to his mouth, slowly sucking on the big toe and you moan out, not expecting how delicious the soft, wet suction would feel. You can see the bulge of his cock shadowing his thigh as he pulls his mouth off your toe with a pop. 

 “Oh Jesus, take me to heaven now cuz I really am getting too old for this.” Elvis grunts, pulling on the desk to stand up.

He brushes off his knees, then shifts between your legs, and your hands pull him down by his collar to kiss your lips, not sure how you feel tasting the salty tang of yourself there. You think maybe you like it. Feeling your way to his belt, you begin to pull it apart as you kiss him back, but his right hand moves to firmly stop you.

“Dontcha want to fuck me, daddy?” Fuck, what made you say that? You chided yourself, you hated how happy it made him as you watched his grin grow wide. He shook his head, taking your hand and kissing the top.

“Honey, I didn’t come here to fuck you in some dirty, dingy store room… I came here to invite ya to supper ‘after my show, which I might miss on account of you being a spoiled, no count brat…. so we better pop to it.” He looked you in the eyes as your smile faded and self-conscious guilt swept over you. He pulled you in tight and pressed his forehead against yours. Your noses touched, and his breath was warm and comforting.

“C’mon sugar, course I wanna fuck you, fuck you so silly all ‘a Jackson can hear you call out my name.” He chuckled. “But… this is not exactly the romantic setting I like to make love in…. know what I mean? Let’s get back to my place, get you all fed and cleaned up.” He bent down and handed you your underwear and pants. “Want you down in front at the show. Imma have Joe run out and grab you a proper dress….” Now he was handing you your bra, then your shirt. “But we better scoot, I go on at 8:30.”

He looked over at the clock, and you followed his gaze, it was 6:35.

You turned, buttoning your jeans.

“Not Joe…..”

Eyebrows tensed, Elvis’s eyes were sharp as he looked up from tucking his gun back into his waist.

“What you got against ol' Diamond Joe?”

“I… ugh… let’s say we didn’t hit it off exactly, last night…. “

 Elvis pulled you in front of him, and then took a step back, grabbing a comb from inside his coat, then brushing your hair, clucking his tongue when your hair flipped back the wrong way. Content after fixing your part, he tucked the sides behind your ears.

“That’s better… looks good down, jus like that….” He bit his tongue in apt concentration. Comb in pocket, he put his arm around you, and led you out of the room, down the hall and towards the front of the store.

“Wanna wash your hands?”

Elvis stops, and takes his right hand off you, then brings his index and middle finger up to his lips.

“What, this hand baby?” He sucks on his fingers, his eyes dancing. “Not ever gonna wash this hand again.” He chuckles as you swat him and his hand returns to your side, continuing to walk you to the front of the store.

“So why didn’t you and Joe, uh,… ‘hit it off’?”

You pause, then look up as Elvis walks you into the store front.

“Yeah, well…. he couldn’t take a hint and was kinda being … pushy…  last night …. right before you started lobbing pretzels at me …  He told you my name was Rachel, cuz that’s what I told him…. I don’t know, I guess didn’t want him to know my real name … I…”

“Huh… I see… alright, honey, don���t worry about Joe… I’ll take care a him.”

You paused outside, locking the front door before pulling it shut, and then gasped when you saw the long, black car in front of the store with three guys waiting in it.  How long had they been there, an hour? A large man sat at the wheel, another skinny one next to him, and then there was Joe frowning in the back seat. He looked out the window after making eye contact with you. Elvis opened the back door, and barked at Joe to jump in front, motioning for you to get in. 

“C’mon Becky," Elvis helped you.

“Becky?” Joe asks, turning as the car takes off.

“Yeah, well it’s Rachel to creeps who can’t take a hint, but it’s Becky to every’un else.” Elvis barked at Joe, who started to turn. “I don’t want ta hear it, Joe, just keep your head forward an do as yer told,” Elvis said, palming a few pills out of his pocket and swallowing them dry. Joe huffed and hit his hand on the door.

The younger man in the middle seat turned, and shook your hand.

“Hey Becky, I’m Jerry.” Then he looked at Elvis. “What took you so long?”

You blush and look down. 

Elvis smirked. “Yeah, sorry to keep ya fellows waiting, decided to have a snack.”

Jerry’s eye brows bent in confusion.

“I thought it was a hardware stor—-“ The driver jabbed Jerry in the ribs and he grimaced, turning back around.

“Yeah, s’its a hardware store alright, but they have a bunch of peanuts, pretzels, jerky… what was that honey? Cold beaver ya got out for me in that ice chest in the back? Tasted pretty good once we warmed it up.” Elvis put his right arm around you, chortling as your cheeks turned bright red and you buried your head in his shoulder. “I’m sorry baby, these guys have been working for me for over fifteen years, ain’t nothin' to be embarrassed about…”

Somehow, the idea that Elvis might make his entourage wait around regularly while he was off fucking random women didn’t make you feel any better. Groaning the groan of someone who suddenly feels like a cheap, anonymous, whore, you leaned into Elvis’ armpit, and he responded by patting your back. You react to his tender rub and chortle by slapping his belly. He laughed harder, and pulled out a cigar from his breast pocket, lighting it up and humming as he rolled down the window.

“Hey, Lamar, what’s that department store downtown Jackson? The good ‘un we went to back in May?”

“Kennington’s.”  The driver in front responded, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Jerrah, you’re gonna go run in and get Becky here a few dress options, Lamar’ll come back for you after he takes us to the hotel.”

Joe let out a loud sigh.

“That a problem for you, Joe?”

Joe shook his head. “Have better luck for her at the Dress Barn, they ain’t gonna have her size at that place, nothing over a 10… she’s a 14 if she’s a day…”

You shifted, sinking further into the seat and blushing again.

Elvis hit him in the back of the head.

“Lamar, pull the goddamn car over.” Elvis gritted his teeth as the vehicle came to a stop. “GET OUT! Dammit, Joe, must have lost yer damn mind… if ya can’t be polite to my guests, you can walk yer happy ass back to the hotel.” Joe scoffed and looked over at Jerry in disbelief. “Don’t look at him, ya can file your complaints wit me.  Rude mother fucker, I swear…  forgettin’ your manners. Forgettin’ who the boss is ‘round here.” Elvis slapped Joe on the side of his head again, and Joe swore under his breath as he jumped out of the car and slammed the door. 

“Right.” Elvis murmured as the car drove off again. “Where were we? Oh right, let’s drop Jerrah at that store.  You know what kind of dresses would look good on her, right Milk?” Jerry turned around, looking you up and down. “Now, go ahead sweetheart, tell him your dress size, and shoes too… Jerrah, write this down.”

You look Jerry in the eyes. “Um…. dress size is a 12… 9 in shoes…” 

Jerry smiled at you, writing it in a small notepad, and hopping out as Lamar drove up to the curb at Kennington’s, yelling at Jerry, “The hotel’s just a few blocks away, I’ll be right back.”

———————————

Lamar flashed a broad smile at you as he helped you out of the car, and walked you and Elvis to the service elevator, opening doors and smiling at the staff you passed coming in through the back of the hotel. You ran your hand through your hair on the ride up to the pent house, imagining Joe walking backing in the summer heat cursing your name with each step. Great. Noticing your far off look, Elvis squeezed you into to him, bringing your other fingers up to his mouth to kiss them. 

“Nice fingers… that’s a French manicure, so you can’t be a mess all the time.” Your face softened as you look up at Elvis’ profile, flapping his left cheek with your fingers.

“Well, unlike some people, I usually don’t spend my nights awake at rock concerts followed by one nights stands. Getting my nails done, it's one the few things I do just for me. You’re welcome to admire them all you want, but…. they’re not for you.”

Elvis chuckled, lowering his arm from your shoulder to slap your ass as you get off the elevator, and you turn towards him, mock hurt through a smile as you walk backwards.

“There’s that back talk again, thought I knocked that outta ya…” he smirked, licking his lips.

“Ha! Never! You may have temporarily dazed me, but no man will ever tame me!” you announce, and shriek as Elvis raises an eyebrow and steps toward you.

“Oh, we’ll see ‘bout that…” he calls out, and you giggle, shrieking as you turn to run down the hallway, rounding the corner past the hallway you made out in last night and towards the pent house door. You can feel the thud of Elvis jogging behind you echo through the entire passage way. You sigh out as you get to the door and realize you are stuck, you don’t have the key, and you squeal out as you feel strong, hefty hands grab you at the waist and turn you around. 

“Gotcha!” He smiles, panting. “Man, what’s with you… this ain’t the Kentucky Derby baby… that’s the fastest I’ve run since I was in the army… back in 19… 19… 1916…” 

You  laugh out a “Ha, ha ha!” then feel his chest heave as he lifts you over his shoulder and starts to spank your bottom lightly. “Just you wait til I get you inside!” You slap him on his back, yelling out “Put me down you big brute,” through playful gasps and giggles. His fingers fondle your butt and thighs as he walks into the hotel room, and they glide over your backside as he helps you slid off his shoulder.

“You are a thick girl, aintcha?” He draws you into him, and you respond slapping the top of his belly.

“Ha, I’m ‘bout average… you should talk, you’re thicker than I am …” The laughter in your voice stops as you notice Elvis’s smile tighten and fade, his belly tenses up. You notice the hurt in his eyes, instantly shifting to sooth his chest. “The unfair thing is, though, men just get sexier the thicker they get.” Elvis’ eyes warmed as you played with his collar, talking into his chest. 

“Huh, that right? Well you should know honey, this layer right here,” Elvis patted the paunch protruding at his abdomen. “S’just an extra layer I keep around on purpose, as protection, it’s my bullet proof padding… really, that’s the truth.” His grin returned.

“Mmmhmmm… I feel safer already…” you bent your chin into the opening of his shirt, nuzzling his warm chest hair. “I know I’m thick, the opposite of the pretty women you usually date… Joe warned me last night, I’m not your type…”

Elvis grabbed your hips, kissing the top of your head.

“Well honey,” he laid another kiss on your hair, “ya ain’t particularly nice,” another kiss,  “ya don’t have particularly good manners… or any for that matter…” his finger traced along your neck to your collarbone. “Sneakin’ out of a man’s bed room without sayin' good bye, like a thief in the night…” you felt his fingers turning your chin up to him. “An' I do like it when my dates show up already dressed nice, wid their hair an' make-up already all done up…” he was trying to play it straight, but he couldn’t stop himself from breathing out a faint giggle through his nose. “But trust this, Joe don’t know shit, and he don’t tell me what to do or who to screw.” 

Elvis’ other hand stroked the side of your body with the back of his knuckles, the cool of his rings following as they trailed up from the top of your hip to the flap of flesh at your bra, where his knuckles lingered, tenderly rubbing that spot back and forth. Your heartbeat quickened, there was that lightening bolt rising up your spine. Elvis whistled out and you feel him stiffen against you. “Hell, you might be the most ornery, stubborn lil' girl here in Jackson… but there’s something about you -  God put you in my life for a reason - the lord works in mysterious ways. ”

“Like, through your dong?” you smirked, your hand moved down his chest to brush over his inner thigh, his hard, extended length spasmed under your touch. 

Elvis guffawed, then groaned.

“Sometimes… yes. Course. Lil Elvis is an implement of the lord, baby, just like the rest of me.” He looked pretty amused with himself, a humorous lilt intoned his words, and his voice rose up in jest like a preacher. “Wouldn’t feel so good if we weren’t supposed to use it…” 

You quirk your eyebrow. “That’s a bunch of bullshit… God does NOT care about your hard ons… ”

“Oh ye of little faith. How would you know, anyhow? He sent you to me, didn’t he? And suddenly I’m in hard-on town! Honey t’weren’t no accident. Everything happens for a reason. I really believe that. He brought you to my room last night for a reason, you caught my eye for a reason. There are bigger machinations at play that you and I can’t even begin to understand…”

“So I’m just a pawn in some celestial sort of plan to help you to get your mojo back?” 

Elvis’ hand left your arm pit and moved to slap your butt, then pulled you closer.

“Now woman, see here, my mojo is just fine. It’s just... selective… You always have a smart retort, dontcha.”

You nodded up at him. “I mean, I have a brain and I know how to talk, if that’s whatcha mean.”

He pulled you even closer, clutching you from your back.

“Know what I think?” He asked, and you raised your eyebrows, stroking his sideburns. “You talk too much.”

You huffed and pulled on his collar.

“So you want me to shut up and just be, what, some sort of snake charmer, huh? Doin’ the lord’s work to bring your python out?”

“Huh,” he grinned, his hands now pulling on the cushiony curves at your hips. “By George, I think you finally got it.  Now come-a here and be quiet.” He leaned forward, you felt the softness of his mouth on yours, your upper lip caught between his, and his nose crushed into your cheek. Elvis’ fingers grip your sides as he mumbles low. “You’re not bad looking when you hush up….  Not bad feeling’ neither... s’nice to have somethin’ to hold onto…”

Elvis was just beginning to pull your shirt up when you hear a cough behind you, and look over Elvis’ jacket to see Charlie jump up off the couch, rubbing the back of his head anxiously. Charlie must have been sitting there the whole time. Elvis’ arms dropped to his sides, and he spun around.

“Charlie, goddamn it boy,” he laughed. “Why didn’t you make yourself known, huh?”

“Well, EP… I … I …”

Elvis mocked him, “I ….? I…? I what? ‘I’m a big ol’ pervert?’” He sad the last part in a high falsetto voice. “Go on, git outta here.” 

“Yeah, sure thing, boss.. ummm… it’s just that its 6:45…. probably head out to the Coliseum in an hour… wanted to check in with you ‘bout —"

Elvis held his hand up to Charlie to stop him, and grabbed you by the hand, walking you through the suite, into the master bedroom and over to the bathroom. “There’s the shower, Twitch —“

“Twitch?”

“Yeah, member? That’s my new nickname for ya… cuz you twitch so much, and so prettily too….”

You groan and put your face in your hands. 

“Oh god…that’s why I never feel comfortable letting men do that…”

“Honey, you didn’t let me do nothin'… I do what I want….sides, nothing more natural, nor more beautiful…” 

“Ughh..” 

Elvis took your hands from you face, and kissed you. 

“I wish you didn’t blush so hard, might make me tease you less….” He stroked your cheek. “We better put the breaks on for now. Gotta get me to the show on time. Go take yerself a cold shower an’ get all scrubbed up…” 

You bobbed your head in assent, turning to walk to the shower. Elvis hung on the door frame watching you undress, winking as you look back at him over your shoulder and blowing you a kiss before he closed the door. The top of your head tingled, you felt wide awake, probably the pill Elvis gave you, but your forehead ached and the back of your eyes throbbed as if they were pushing up into your skull. The hot water soothed you and your muscles relaxed as you exhaled into the steam. You started to feel human again, washing the grime and sweat and sex from the last 24 hours off. You heard the bathroom door open, the last of the soap swirling down the drain as you finished rinsing out your hair, and you peeked through the glass door to see Elvis back, an approving smile on his face and a towel in his hands. You step out and his smile widened.

“Just how I like ya, naked and quiet.”

You reach for the towel but he shakes his finger and starts to dry you off, beginning with your breasts.

“Maybe you should go find a foxy mute to date… hmmm?”

“Now there’s an idea, ya know any?” The towel moved to your shoulders, and Elvis spins you around, gently rubbing the terrycloth over your back, bottom and legs. Then he spins you back to face him and wraps the towel around you, using it to draw you into him for a kiss. 

“Charlie and Jerry are grabbing my suit, I���m about to go get ready. I have your dress,” Elvis gestured for you to follow him back to the bed room, where he handed you a gold lame evening gown with a cowl neck. “There’s a hair dryer under the sink, honey, do you have any make up with you?” 

You shake your head.

“Man, you really didn’t do a good job planning for our date tonight…”

“Ooh, you mean my kidnapping? No, sorry…”

“Never met a more willing victim…”

“Ha!”

“S’ good thing you got kidnapped by someone who has a hair dresser, I’ll have Larry do you after me.”

You hear the door at the front of the room, and Elvis pats you on the bottom, again, as you turn back into the bathroom.

“Hey guys, back here!” You hear his voice call from the adjourning bedroom. “Becky’s in the john gettin’ ready…  Black Phoenix, good. Tell Lamar, I want supper laid out up here after the show, fried chicken, meatloaf, potatoes, maybe something healthy, like potato salad? Have ‘em fix it up good. Some snacks, you know, for us to pick at. Drinks. And I don’t want half of Jackson up here again…. just family.”

You tune them out, looking around for the hair dryer, eventually finding it next to a stack of boxed enema kits under the sink, an amenity that struck you as somewhat odd for a hotel to provide. But Elvis was only in town for a few days, why would he need so many? You didn’t want to think about it. Hair dry and somewhat straightened, you exhaled, taking a moment to look at yourself in the mirror, breathing slowly and trying to get your heart rate to slow down. Straining to get the gold dress over your bust, you suspected it is a size too small. The top was like a corset, constraining as it sucks you in, pushing your breasts up and almost out of the loose, cowl neckline. You snapped one of the thin gold straps, wondering if it would hold out for the night or break under the pressure your curves were exerting on it. Luckily, the gown fell looser at the waist, and the sleek, lame felt cool and silky over your bare legs. The shoes, at least were the right size, a set of matching gold platform sandals with a thick heel. A thick three or four inch heel. A thick heel that would mean walking may or may not work out for you, so you would need to go slow.

“Good, cuz you can’t breath anyway…” you tell your reflection.

Sucking in and moving slowly, you opened the bathroom door, finding Elvis sitting at the vanity decked out in a white jumpsuit with a black, zebra belt that has looped chains draped around the bottom. The silhouette of a large black bird in flight was stitched in black sequins on the back, and when he turned to look at you, you see the same silhouette on the front, black shiny wings rising along either side of his open chest. An older white guy stood behind Elvis, combing his hair out with his fingers and a spray bottle.

“There she is! Larry, this is Becky.” You nod at them, smoothing your hands over your belly, pulling up at your neckline.

“I think Jerry got me the wrong size… feel like I’m busting out of this dress…”

Elvis chuckled as he stood, walking over to you, hands on your waist, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as they stared down at your heaving breasts.  “Nah, you look just right.” You cocked an eyebrow as he led you to the vanity and told Larry to get you ready while he sat back in the large, leather chair on the other side of the bedroom and smoked a stogie. Your eyes met through the reflection mirror as Elvis watched in amusement while Larry made small talk with you.

“Nice to meet you, Becky…  is it short for Rebecca?” You nod. “Beautiful name… a Biblical name.”

“Hmmm, I s’pose, if you go in for that sort of thing…”

“Yeah, well, I go in for all sorts of things … you don’t?”

You purse your lips slightly. “No, I stopped believing in fairy tales when I grew up…” Elvis cocked an eye brow, exhaling his cigar and smirking as he shook his head, as if to warn you that you had no idea what you were getting into.

“Oh Becky, oh man, that really hurts me to hear you say that,” Larry dusted over the top of your cheeks with blush. “Gosh, if that’s your definition of growing up, I hope I never do… what’s the meaning of life without the deeper, spiritual mysteries of the world… how do we achieve a higher plane of existence?”

You sighed, “Life has no meaning, Larry, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but it’s all just chaos and I guess… I guess we just do our best to enjoy the way things get thrown together and figure out how to survive…”

“Oh man, oh man, in some ways, what you’re saying is very - close your eyes for a second, I’m gonna dust a finishing powder here - is almost existential, from a philosophical perspective, but I… well, I’ve experienced too many coincidences, too many psychic exchanges, almost too many dimensions to be able to even start to come back down to where you are.”

You were trying not to squint as he did a second coat of mascara.

“I didn’t go to college," you mutter, "So I’m not sure I really understand everything you're saying… but, its not like I’m miserable. I like my life, I guess...Sure I wish somethings were different, but… I don’t think I’m part of some bigger, coordinated plan… "

Larry clucked his tongue.

“What’s your birthday?”

You were startled for a moment, then responded. “July… July 26, 1948… why…?”

“8 …. You hear that EP? Just like you, her day of the month adds up to an 8!” He whispered to you. “Birth dates that add up to 8, well, they’re quite powerful… what, you don’t believe in numerology either, huh? Don’t you feel hopeless wandering around this beautiful earth, thinking like that? Were you raised with any religion?”

“Sure, yeah, my folks are Jewish, I still think of myself as a Jew - I.. um…it’s more of a.. um cultural thing, I guess…  if I had kids, I’d raise them the way I was, but I’d be honest with them about how things really are….”

Larry’s face lit up, as he turned to his bag to pull out a bottle of hairspray.

“Oh, I should have known you were mishpacha, look at those dark brown eyes… Oy Rivka, it makes my heart break hearing you talk about life so cynically…. Where did you find this one, anyway, EP? She’s cute, she’s smart and I can sense that you’ll have a real positive effect on her, bring some spiritually into her life... if she’ll just open up her mind …”

Elvis smiled devilishly, standing. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t think I’ll have any probably getting her to open up for me… found her at the party last night, she’s just some groupie hanging round, wouldn’t let me be… practically begged to spend another day with me…”

Elvis stalked toward you, a smug look plastered on his face, his hand was on your shoulder as he looked into your reflection. Larry stepped back, pleased with his work. Looking at your reflection, it was a lot more makeup than you ever wore, gold eye shadow shimmered almost to your eyebrows. But you smiled, embracing the utter absurdity of it all and giving yourself over to the pleasurable of feeling glamorous. Not recognizing the tired, disheveled workaday Becky who walked into this pent house in jeans and converse an hour or so ago.

“Groupie…mmhmmm.. that’s me…” you smiled a broad, fake smile as you rose, grasping Elvis' shoulder to steady yourself. “This week it’s the great Elvis Presley, next week, Aerosmith is in town. Fingers crossed I can sneak into their party…”

Elvis grunts as he pulls you in front of him, hands on your waist.

“Ha! Not if I have anything to do with it….”

You playfully slap his shoulder, meeting his eyes.

“Told you Presley, no man can tame me…”

He grips your butt, then smacks it.

“I ain’t just any man, Twitch… mmhmmm… you’ll see…”

You turn to  Larry, saying in Yiddish, “How do you stand working with this asshole, huh?” Larry laughed, and Elvis crooked an eyebrow.

“Hey, now… what she say?”

Larry looked over at him, “Oh just how lucky I am to spend all my days with you.

———————————

Heading to the coliseum in a caravan of long black limos, you realize it’s past 8 o’clock, and you are anxious for Elvis when you arrive only 10 minutes before he is supposed to perform.

“Isn’t this cutting it close?” You murmur, taking his hand out of the limo and hanging on to his arm for dear life as you stumble alongside him through the stage door.

“Nah, honey, this is how I like it… otherwise I’m a caged animal, prowling around the dressing room. No, it’s better this way... I walk right from the limo onto the stage. Keeps the momentum going.” He looked over his shoulder. “Jerrah! I want Becky up in front, in the middle, and have someone keep an eye on her. Don’t won’t her gettin’ smashed in the stampede of women running up to get me.”

He looked down at you and winked.

“And Jerrah, I’m gonna need you to do better with the gatorrrr - ade tonight, last night my throat was so dry I thought I was Bob Dylan.”

He grinned down at you to see if you got his joke. You rolled your eyes, and he slapped your left butt cheek playfully. Again. Your butt was getting more attention in the last few hours than it had in the last ten years.

“Now, that was a good one… shudda laughed... most stubborn audience in Jackson, guys, right here. Look at how hard she has to work to frown at my jokes. ”

You lean into his shoulder, relishing the coziness of his body enclosed around you as long as you could before you arrived at the backstage curtain. Elvis hands began to tremble slightly as he stepped away from you. Caught off by how cold and alone you suddenly felt without his arm around you, you noticed that Elvis’ breathing became shallow and panicked as he let go of you and walked toward the curtain, mumbling to himself.

”You can do this boy, you can do this….you love this…. you do this ev’ry night.”

“Is he ok?” You ask Jerry, who is now walking you around to the front of the stage. Jerry looks at you, a soft smile.

“Yeah, this is good, every once an a while we have a hard time getting him out of the dressing room. Crazy, huh? Think he’d have gotten over stage fright by now…”

Jerry pats your back, leaving you at center stage, thirty or so feet closer than where you had been last night. Tonight’s performance was similar, though it was rougher being in the eye of the storm. The music was louder, and the blare of the horns hit you in the face the moment they began. You watched Elvis propel himself on stage, where he was instantly transformed from nervous school boy to a charismatic rock star strutting and dancing and karate kicking himself across the platform. Exuding a cheerful, roguish vitality, he playfully bantered with the women who ran up to kiss him, joked with the audience, or stopped the music to ask a little girl about the drawing she brought up for him to sign. The restrictive, tightness of your dress and your unsteady heels all faded away as you were taken captive by Elvis’ showmanship. He stopped to wink down at you throughout the night. You were paralyzed when he strode over to center stage and bent his left leg back in a karate stance, then proceeded to thrust above you several times, grinning like a teenager and laughing as he sang. It brought a swarm of butterflies to your tummy, and they flew up your stomach to take permanent residence at the top of your rib cage for the rest of the show, fluttering around while you quivered. You felt yourself blush, and you knew Elvis had noticed it when he walked downstage and paused to fan himself with his own hand.

“Wheweee, this June weather is heating us up, ain’t it lil girl,” and he looked over at you. You didn't think your cheeks could get any redder, but you were wrong. Elvis grinned, then looked back out at the thousands of people behind you. “But that’s alright, that’s just the kind of show ya do on a Monday evening. We came here to be with y’all and to sweat and to hand out scarves.” 

He winked again, and you swore he was about to bend down and kiss you when he stopped just short of your position and kissed the blonde next to you, looking over at you with a smirk and an eyebrow waggle after wrapping a white scarf around her.

—— ----------

Thirty minutes after the show, and you were still sitting next to Lamar in the dressing room, waiting for Elvis to finish signing autographs by the stage. Lamar offered you a Pepsi and M & Ms from a bowl, and you crunched them angrily. 

“Five more minutes, and I’m fixin’ to just take myself home,” you whine, leaning your head back. 

Lamar chuckled. “Don’t let him hear that, EP’ll intentionally make us wait another hour just to show you what happens when you’re impatient… “

“I’ll be long gone before I spend two hours twiddling my fingers back here…”

Lamar looked at you, and shrugged, you guessed he’d seen worse. You stood up to go out to the stage. Lamar looked up from his newspaper.

“You’ll  wanna fix your lipstick.” 

You raised your eyebrows in disdain. “I wasn’t wearing any make-up when I met him last night?”

Lamar hit his knee, ”Well, I’m not gonna say it never happens… but its rare… I’ve been with him for almost twenty years, off an on, and I’ve seen Elvis go out with women of all shapes an sizes, older, younger, married, divorced, single moms, business women, sisters - one right after the other … but they’ve been … they’ve pretty much always … attentive to their appearance… let’s just say he’s never been shy to tell a girl, or any of us, I s’pose, what to wear, how to do our hair, how to look. He knows what he likes, and he almost always gets it, sonabitch… I mean, look at you now ….”

You looked at your self in the full length mirror. Lamar was right, you looked like a different person. An almost pretty one, like those old money debs who you were making fun of last night. You pulled at your neckline, vainly attempting to cover your breasts more.

“Do you think he told Jerry to buy my dress a size down?”

Lamar chortled. “Ha, at least! If not two… partly because he knows he likes the way it shows off your figure, no disrespect meant. But also partly to fuck with you. He likes to turn the screw a bit… it's subconscious, like, sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.”

“Yeah, well, he definitely knew what he was doing when he made Joe get out of the car on the other side of town…”

“Oh, “ Lamar popped some candy in his mouth, “that’s nothin’, he once fired Joe and left him in the middle of the Mojave dessert…” 

You gasped and shook your head, wondering if you should just go home. Fixing some stray hairs, you wiped your mouth, realizing you didn’t have lipstick with you, or anything, so if you did decide to leave you wouldn’t be able to get a cab. Maybe Lamar would take pity on you and drive you home? Or you could find a phone and beg someone to come get you. Maybe you should, the allure of the concert was starting to dissipate, the fatigue was coming back, it was 10:30 and seeing Elvis through Lamar’s perspective was making you question your decision to come out tonight…. For the thousandth time. Your pulled at your neckline once again, and gave Lamar a salute as you hobbled out to the stage to take another look at your date before deciding whether to sneak off, determined not to let these heels take you down.

Elvis’ face lit up with boyish glee when he saw you meander out. Just that quick exchange made you giddy and your desire to leave evaporated. You ambled over to lean against the stage from the grassy field, looking up and watching him where he stood ten feet away, surrounded by people waiting for him to sign their photos, stuffed animals, panties, or take a picture. Elvis bathed in their admiration, laughing and joking and pulling faces with them, while Jerry and five tired men moved them through the line. About every fifteen minutes, Elvis would turn to where you now sat on the tip of the stage, swinging your feet, and holler.

“Hang loose darlin’, just be another five minutes.”

It was 11:37 when you observed Elvis kiss the last pair of women goodbye and stomp over to you with an effected, stilted gait. A damp towel around his neck, his eyes still twinkling from the unfiltered love he’d been basking in over the last few hours. From where you sat, head leaning on your arms over the stage floor, he seemed fifteen feet tall. You gasped when Elvis suddenly plopped down on his knees about an inch from your face and poked your nose, his voice sweet and light.

“So how you doin?”

You smiled, to tired the fight his charm. Any lingering impatience or resentment you felt from waiting the last two hours melted like a popsicle in the glow of his radiance. Head still laying to the side, you responded in a breathy, dreamy voice.

“Hmmmm… just fine and dandy…” 

“Good… still wanna come have dinner with me?” 

You nodded, and Elvis took your hand to help you up.

“C’mon Becky Butt, let’s go get something in that sweet mouth ‘o yours …”

“You’re worse than a teenage boy, you know that?” You scowl, but nevertheless, can’t help your visceral need to seek out the warmth of his body and plunge into his side.

——-----------

You did find something to stick in your mouth. Potato chips, cheese and crackers, grapes, fried chicken, roasted potatoes, little bites of key lime pie. Sipping your second beer, you walk over to the couch and settle down. Looking around the room, you consider that, while there are certainly less people here tonight, this is hardly what you would consider a small gathering. The suite is filled with the men of Elvis’ entourage, a handful of band members, a handful of women, maybe wives, girlfriends, lovers? Your dress, thankfully, had given in to the roundness of your body and stretched out a bit, so you can at least breathe, although your breasts were still mounting their rebellion. You pulled up the neck line again, and shifted toward Charlie, who was tuning a guitar on the other side of the couch. 

“Hey, I heard Elvis during the show, he said you’re from Alabama?’

Charlie looked up at you, his fingers playing a few unorganized chords, and he nodded, then looked over towards the kitchen. You followed his eyes to Elvis, who’s back was turned. You noticed Elvis’ hand seemed very cozily wrapped around the waist of one of his backup singers, what was her name, Kathy? You watch his fingers rub her back. You sighed, he was a handsy guy and you were not into jealous drama, so you turn back to Charlie, who seemed to relax.

“Mhmm, where are you from … Becky is it?”

“Birmingham…. but I’ve lived here in Jackson, gosh for 10 years…. So,” you looked back over at the kitchen, and whisper. “Charlie, why are there 1000 enema kits in the bathroom?”

Charlie belted out a surprised guffaw, and shook his head.

“I’m not even gonna start with that….”

“Ok,” you grinned. “So, how many women you reckon big man over there has slept with?”

Charlie chuckled into his guitar again, and just shook his head.

“Too many… but I’ll tell ya what…I’ve been hanging out with that man these last 17 our 18 years or so, and I’ve eaten meatloaf and fried chicken so often I cain’t barely stand ‘em.” Charlie fooled around strumming the guitar a bit more. “Sometimes he just wants meatloaf, every night, like for six months at a time…. Sometimes he wants all his favorite dishes buffet style, all at the same time, see? He might go for somethin’ new, but even then, usually, it’s cuz its similar, like… shepard’s pie, that’s a lot like meatloaf, jus with mashed potatoes on top… then that becomes his favorite dish for a while, and he has to have it ev’ry night til it's not new any more…  see, EP, man ….he takes comfort in the familiar…”

You nodded, smiling, getting what Charlie was trying to say. I guess I’m the shepard’s pie of Jackson…

“So, where y’all headed next on this tour?” You smooth you dress as you bend your knees up behind you on the couch, and giggle as a nipple pops up and you push it back into your dress.

“Oh, well, we’re goin’ back ta Memphis tomarra, for—" all of a sudden one of the other guys was in front of Charlie, bending in his ear. 

“Crazy over there wants to talk to ya,” you heard him whisper.

“Sure, Dick,” Charlie nodded back, and looked over you, handing you his guitar. “Hold this for me, won’t ya?”

You lean across him to put your drink on the side table, and you feel Charlie tense as your breasts graze his lap, you’ve never seen anyone hop up so fast as he alights and hands you his instrument. Taking his guitar, you flip your legs back on the ground, and eyes following the two men as they walk over to Elvis, who is now very much turned toward you, a grimace clouding his face. Kathy has been replaced by another man who’s talking to him. You wonder what upset him? But you are distracted by the guitar in your lap, and start to strum a few notes, smiling up at Elvis as you start to sing an old folk song from one of your Joan Baez records that popped into your head, you don’t know why. You’re not in love with Elvis, you’ve only known him 24 hours, but he does have black hair…

Black, black, black is the color of my true love's hair

His face so soft and wondrous fair

The purest eyes

And the strongest hands

I love the ground on where he stands

Closing your eyes, you let the buzz from the drinks and the show and the energy of the party creep over you and you give yourself to the song, singing softly. You open your eyes to see Elvis strolling over to you while you sing, and he takes a seat next to you where Charlie had been, leaning back into the armrest. There is wonder and affection in his eyes, and you push your leg into him as he rubs you knee while you warble out the last verse of the song.

“Where’d you learn to sing these sad sack songs, mhmm?” He scoots you closer to him, his hands snaking around your waist. You lean your head onto his chest, appreciating the way your head fits under his chin, strumming the strings casually.

“Summer camp… as a teenager …. it’s actually not far from here... just outside of Jackson.”

The warmth of his fingers trace up the side of your body, and you absentmindedly lift one hand to stroke his right sideburn, pulling on the curly, rough hair. His breath is hot on your ear when Elvis murmurs.

“Not bad, for an amateur I guess…”

“Ha…. most stubborn audience in Jackson, guys, right here.” You call out, your voice is playful and loud, and Elvis pulls you on to his lap.

“Hmmm… you’re funny, ya know that?” He kisses your lips, and you dangle the guitar down by its neck, your other hand on Elvis’ shoulder to return his kiss, and then nuzzle back into him. “Go on now, play me a ‘nother one…” he cooed.

You turn your face up to his, and nod.

“K, here’s another from camp.” And you start to strum the chords to the folk version of an old Hebrew prayer, your head against his while his arm wraps around you. Your feet now dangle over the edge of his lap and his other hand rests over you, thumb rubbing your thigh as you sing.

Hashkiveinu Adonai 

Eloheinu l’shalom

V’ha’amideinu Malkeinu 

l’cha--yim 

Spread the shelter of your peace over us 

Guide us in wisdom, compassion, and trust

Hashkiveinu Adonai 

Eloheinu l’shalom

V’ha’amideinu Malkeinu 

l’cha--yim 

Save us for the sake of your name 

Shield us from hatred sorrow and pain 

Elvis lips kiss your neck.

“That’s beautiful honey, what’s it mean?”

You look down, still cradling the guitar. “I guess its a call out to God to lay us down with peace when we go to sleep at night, and give us peace when we wake in the morning… a call for protection.”

Elvis stroked your thigh, then moved his hands over yours on the guitar. “Go head, teach me the chords… I wanna learn this.”

You feel a firm rod hardening underneath you as you show him how the song goes, fingers over fingers, his lips on your neck, repeating the words. You laugh at his Hebrew pronunciations and he slaps your hip, laughing with you.

“How can you sing this music honey, and then say you don’t believe in God?”

You thought of your conversation earlier, and looked up to see if anyone heard what you and Elvis were saying. The crowd had gotten smaller, but those remaining seemed to be paying very little attention to the two of you.

“Of course you believe in God, Elvis, cuz your life is a fairy tale… handsome, talented, successful… but it’s really just random chance… why would God make some people beautiful and others ugly? Why would he make some poor and others rich? There’s no rhyme or reason to our lives…”

Elvis’ knuckles trailed across your cheek. 

“Ya don’t really think life is pointless?”

You hesitate. “Not pointless… but any meaning it has is meaning we give it, while we deal with all the bullshit we get dealt…”

“This…” Elvis murmured into your ear. “This is why he brought you to me. We’re meant to help each other… I’m going to help you seek him out…”

“Elvis…” you whisper, “what if I’m meant to help show you that there is no God?”

“Oh baby, I know there’s a God… I’ve seen ‘im….” 

You roll your eyes, and Elvis pulls you tighter, chuckling.

“Hmmm. So you’re bringing me to the light, how am I helping you?”

“Thought we already covered that… you’re using those snake charmin’ skills to remind me how God works in mysterious ways.” You feel him thrust his hips up into you a few times. His erection is undeniable, and you cough out a guffaw as he smirks, then lifts you up, one hand under your knees, the other around your arm. You shriek and drop the guitar.

“Oh no!”

“Don’t worry, baby, jus Charlie’s guitar, don’t matter one bit.” He smiled deviously over in Charlie’s direction and kicked the instrument out of his way, before bellowing out over your lifted frame. “Alright y’all, quitting time, s’been a long day, time to hit the hay.” You giggle, blushing again, its obvious that he is about to carry you to the bed room and you burrow into his chest to hide.

——-----------

Emerging from the master bathroom, face clean, hair brushed back, you’re wearing a slinky, pink silk nightie Jerry must have bought and put out for you on the bed. You shiver, seeing Elvis in his own blue pajamas already in the bed. He pats the space beside him, and you scurry over, launching onto the bed with a jump.

“Slow down, lil' girl, this ain’t the Grand Prix…”

You nod, breath shallow and nervous as you get under the covers and lay down next to Elvis. He turns, fingers slowly stroking your tummy, his face hovering an inch above yours. You shiver, breathing in more deeply, taking in his distinct musk of sweat, tobacco and spice. His lips softly skim over yours.

“Have a good time tonight?”

“Mhmmm,” your hands move up his chest and around his neck. 

His fingers trail down your belly, you feel the flames crackling at your core burst into a fire, and you bite your lip. Elvis grins, his cheeks expanding. His fingers are under your nightie, and he grins wider as he notices you aren’t wearing underwear, growling as he pushes your nightie up. You gasp as those fingers work their way down, running through your pubic hair. He raises his eyebrows, you feel his cock twitch against you, and you nod your chin, a slight moan escaping you as you lean up into his mouth and move your hands from his neck to pull down his pajama bottoms. He chuckles into your kiss.

“OK, woman, ok…. Now let a man take his own drawers off….”

You sit up against the pillows and Elvis rolls over on his back to pull his pajamas off and throw them to the floor first, pants then shirt. Why did we even get changed? You think as you turn to him, hand on his chest, mouth on his neck, his moans joining yours as you move to straddle his thighs. Looking up at you with awe, he pulls your night gown off and you slowly grind against him. Elvis’ hands move to your waist, grasping your soft, cushy handles, and you arch your head back when he lifts his thumb to his mouth and sucks over it, then lowers it to your clit. Each stroke is deliberate, soft, slow, and you buck forward with a tremor, moaning out. His stiff length rubs between your ass cheeks, and you thrust against it. You halt your movements forward and rise up, using your hands to guide him inside you, then grunting out as you bear down on him, the friction and the stretch a welcome thrill as you slowly plunged further. Elvis grunts and sits up, responding to the magnetic electricity that had been building between you all night. Neither of you can get close enough, you pull each other as tight as possible, surging your hips down into him while he grips your handles. Your arms wind around his neck and his forehead is damp against your chin and his voice speaks into your neck high and breathy.

“Oh baby, sweet baby, where ya been all my life? Huh?”

Your chest heaves into him, and you ride him further, crying out with a twitch when his cock hits that new magic spot. Your G spot. Your E spot. Moaning, you kiss down on the top of his head, grasping him closer when his arms tighten around your waist. You feel the sweat dripping down through his chest hair as it chafes against your nipples, the sensation brings a gasp out of your mouth. You meld together with each clap of thunder as your hips meet his over and over, your skin is electrified and the sensation seems more intense than the previous night, your bodies seem more in tune with each other, so much so that they seem to fit together. You follow where he leads, and he responds to each movement you make, lips seeking out the nape of your neck, sending shivers through you until his soft kisses become aggressive and you try to consume each other before the flames rise up out of the bed to devour you both.

“Oh GOD, Elvis! Fuckkkkk….”

You call out, your whole cunt is vibrating with anticipation, you can feel electricity coiling behind your belly button.

“See honey? Its workin’ already… I’m bringing you closer to God.. ugghhhh....” he grunts as you bear down on him. You try to roll your eyes but then have to squeeze them closed when his hands work your hips up and down again and you spasm.

Another minute, and you are screaming out through the waves of pleasure emanating up your core, your rolls into each other slow, and there it is, you can’t help it, you’re sobbing again as a feverish warmth spreads over you. Elvis’ fingers are on your face, clearing away your hair, wiping your tears with his thumbs.  His hips are stilled, and he kisses your chin, your lips part with a deep exhale.

“Ugh, oh, God, I don’t know——“

“Ssshhh,” he pulls you into him. “S’ok...” He murmurs into your neck, you wrap yourself further around him from above, and begin to move again. “You wanna keep goin’?

“Mhmm” you breath out, clenching around him and you feel as if he’s gone even deeper inside you, like Elvis is probing so far into you he might burst right through you. The rhythm resumes, your bottom hits his knees as you lunge up and down and you feel him gasp in a soft, weak high voice.

“Oh darlin’, let me be your baby… just take me in you and let me be your lil’ baby….?” His eyes beg you, and his mouth contorts into a pinched expression of shock and pleasure. Hands on your hips, Elvis pulled you forward onto him and you increase your pace, pushing faster into him, wet skin slapping against his chest while he holds you close, your hands smoothing over his hair and you whisper.

“There’s a good boy, ahhh! ….. course you can be my baby… my good baby... my bubbleleh…” you murmur, smoothing the top of his hair. You have never talked the way during sex, it just comes out in the moment and you go with it as you both inhabit the roles you play in all the different aspects of your life at once: mother, father, lover, child.

Elvis’ eyes look up at you from below, with his chin jutting and the innocent expression lighting up his face, he looks ten years younger.  His eyes plead for release, connection, recognition, and his eyebrows are pushed up by desire while his left hand cups your neck. Jerking back, he pushes you off him and down on the bed, pulling out just before he explodes on to your abdomen with a stuttering growl. He pumps himself with his hand one, two, three more times, then exhales loudly as your bodies still. He coughs and grunts again, shaking his head, hands rubbing your sides up and down.

You look up, a dizzy smile on your face. “I’m on the pill, just so ya know…”

“Oh?” Elvis looked down at you, moving to get off the bed, presumably to get you a towel, but you pull him back, instead wiping your self off on the duvet. You push him down on his back, straddling him once more, this time to cuddle on top of him. You lean forward over him and relish the way his chest hair tickles your breasts. He fluffs a pillow as you rest your head over crossed arms and look up in delight at the goofy grin spreading across his face. His neck swells forward, and now his mouth sits above a tower of meaty jowls. His baritone voice reverberates up into your arms.

“Is that cuz you already have a daddy here in Jackson?”

You shake your head. “Nooooo. Just cautious, like you.”

Elvis bows his chin forward. “Yeah, well, I already knew you didn’t have a man, I could tell… I know things,” he grinned, pointing his index finger at his head. 

You lean up, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Yeah… I know…. You’re a seer…. what we just did was definitely a spiritual experience…” You giggle. “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything… anything like that…” you tuck your head into his chest, your fingers tousling the damp, sweaty curls they find. Elvis runs his fingers through your hair absentmindedly.

“Hmmm, s’always better the more you do it together, isn’t it… bodies get used to each other… I’ve… I’ve had some good rolls in the hay, but it’s been a while… boyoboy…” He gently pulls your hair back so you are looking up at him, his profile limned by the soft bedside lamp. “Come back to Memphis with me tomorrow.” 

You purse your lip. “Elvis… I…”

He shakes his head. “Uh uh, I don’t like the sound of that… woman, you just told me you had the best sex of your life. I ain’t asking you to marry me, jus come spend a few days an' have some fun… can’t tell me that store won’t get along with out you?”

You sit up, next to him, crossing your legs on the bed. 

“Elvis, you just met me… this is moving tooo fast..”

“Honey, fast is the only speed I know…”

“Elvis, I can’t go to Memphis with you.”

He pauses, brow furrowed. “This cuz you thought you were going out with THE Elvis Presssley, then ended up with me?”

You grab his shoulders, leaning over him to kiss his face as he turns in a huff, pouting.

“What the fuck are you even talking about? You think I’m disappointed because I got to see you up close? The real you?” You turn his face back to look at you and the hurt in his eyes dissipates. “No baby… no…. Look, I’ve had the best time with you. Ever. I mean it. You are…. Well, ‘m not one for making a fool of myself an tellin’ a man how foxy I think he is… you know you are…” you slap his shoulder. “And you’re actually better than I thought you’d be… you’re funny… and brilliant…. and.. ugh… I stole your belt last night because I wanted to remember this forever …. When I’m with you I… I … feel like a teenager again… all my cares and responsibilities, they melt away. And that’s nice, cuz I had to grow up kinda of early … so feeling free again… its been a dream —”

“Then why don’t you wanna come with me, baby?”

“I do. I want to. But I can’t… I have people who depend on me, people who need me… I’ve been taking over the management of my uncle’s store… I live with my aunt and uncle, they’re in their 60s…” and I have a kid I don’t want to tell you about because this is just fun and I don't want to bring the baggage from my life into this one night - two night  - stand …. “I have to go back to reality tomorrow… or today, depending what time it is?… I guess that doesn’t matter… I have to go back to my life and so … so do you…”

Elvis takes your hand, drawing you into the crook of his arm, his other hand caresses your shoulder, you can see the wheels in his head turning.

“Hmmm… let’s get some sleep, we’ll talk about this in the mornin’… jus promise no sneaking’ out this time without sayin’ good bye?”

You assent with a bow, and he kisses the top of your head, then sits up to take a pill bottle out of the side table drawer. You shake your head no when he offers you some, and watch as he gulps a handful down, no water, and turns off the light. Ten minutes later Elvis’ ragged snores lull you too sleep.

——----------

The room is black when you wake up in a naked embrace with Elvis, your hair matted down from the warm sweat of his chest. The windows are still covered with aluminum, but the bedside clock tells you it's 6 am. You gently lift his arm so you can get up, and as you swing your feet off the bed he sits up with a start, grabbing you from behind.

“Don’t leave me Satnin, don’t leave me in the dark… I can’t be alone in the dark…” his soft voice trembles with fear, and you push back into the pillows, taking Elvis’ head in your lap and sooth his brow, hushing him with a promise that you aren’t leaving, just going to the bathroom. 

Once he falls back to sleep, you get up and, finding your nighty, make your way to the en suite toilet. Looking over at him as you come back, you tip toe out of the bed room to call home and talk to Ruth in the living room. You had snuck off to a phone after the show last night, and had a long, apologetic conversation with Aunt Ida, who was, honestly, too enthusiastic about the fact that you wouldn’t be coming home for the second night in a row. You met someone, girlchik, I told you that you would, she had gushed. You had just been grateful that neither Danny nor Harriet had told their parents whom that someone was. Harriet had stayed over to help, as promised, and was going to open the store today, but you hadn’t had a chance to talk to Ruth. You leave the lights in the living room off, relieved that Joe or one of the other guys is not sitting in the living room to greet you this morning when you make your way to the phone near the pent house kitchen. You sit on a bar stool and have the operator call your house, then ask Ida to put your daughter on the phone.

“Hey baby, you’re not mad at me for staying out with friends?”

You can hear Ruth roll her eyes. “Mom… why would I be mad? You should do this more, Harriet lets me have as much ice cream as I want. For breakfast too.”

“What?”

“Just kidding…” Ruth giggles.

“Ok, good… hey, after today, only three more days of school left til summer?”

“Mhmm, mom, yeah. I know….”

“Ok, ok, I just called to tell you to have a good day at school, and I’ll see you tonight, ok, sweet baby?”

“Ok, love ya mom.” 

Just as Ruth hangs up, you jolt at the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut and turn to see Elvis in a robe, rubbing his eyes with a befuddled expression on his face.

“Sweet baby? Thought you didn’t have a man…. “

Hanging up the phone, you throw your head back and look at the ceiling, then return to meet his gaze.

“I don’t… I wasn’t talking to a man…” you mutter.

Elvis’ brow creases, as he rubs his eyes again. 

“Well then, who were you…..ohhh…” he walks over to you, and sits in the bar stool next to you “How old?”

“9.” You look down.

“You must a been a baby yer self when you had ‘em?”

You just nod, as he takes your hand.

“An that’s why you can’t come to Memphis.” He drops your hand, getting up and pacing back towards the bedroom. 

You stand to follow him, but stop, you can tell he’s upset, but you’re not sure if it’s because he’s mad at you for not telling him you had a kid, or mad because his psychic powers didn’t show him this information, or mad because he’s not going to get what he wants, or mad because he thinks you’re some sort of tramp horrible mother and can’t believe he was attracted to you. Your worst insecurities assume its the latter one, the energy in the room has turned bitter and you want to run out of the door. You fight this, realizing clothes would be good first.

“I should go,” you offer, and he turns, hand on the bridge of his nose as he stands in thought.

“What? No… I mean.. Yes.. honey, do what you gotta do…”

You walk up and kiss Elvis on the cheek, then move to get dressed in the bedroom, finding your old jeans and shirt and converse in the closet. Elvis follows you, and perches at the edge of the large, leather chair watching you dress. He stands to grab something out of his black dress jacket, and pads over to you as you finish tying your shoe. The belt and ring he gave you are on the bed next to where you finish getting dressed, and you aren’t sure if you should leave them. He seems to read your mind.

“Take ‘em… go ahead, I want ya to have ‘em…” Then he hands you a wad of money. “And this too, for all your troubles.” 

You count it, $500. A sinking feeling starts in the pit of your stomach. Whore. You feel like a cheap whore. You crumple up the cash and throw it on top of his things, slap him in the face, and then walk out through the bedroom and leave without looking back.

Elvis rubs his stinging cheek, and turns to follow. No one has ever rejected his gifts. 

“What the devil in tarnation… crazy woman…” he mumbles to himself, still drugged and half dead from the sleeping pills and lack of sleep, his mind and body are moving slow. He hears the front door slam and he jogs after you, sticking his head out of the door to call you back, only to find the hallway empty. All that remains of your presence is the faint sting from your hand still burning his cheek.

taglist:

@woundmetender @powerofelvis @butlervol6 @ab4eva @whositmcwhatsit @richardslady121 @dkayfixates @azzawrites @searchingforgravity @sharebearkk @18lkpeters @elvispresleywife @moonchild-daniella @bisexualwvtson @eliseinmemphis @avengen @father-of-2cats @lillypink @notstefaniepresley @stylespresleyhearted @godlypresley

Read Chapter Three Here

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley smut #elvis x OC #big daddy elvis #big daddy elvis fic #banditqueenwrites

[mulletmitsuya]

I hated the tr ending so badly. Not because it was rushed or anything. Wakui could have fleshed out the last timeline so thoroughly and logically and I would still hate it because the ending itself goes against what I felt the story stood for in the first place. He replaced all the characters for fakes, none of the characters we were intoduced to had happy endings because they either are totally different people or re lived their life to avoid healing. The ending basically proved izanas last words right "there's no saving me" yeah I guess not if the only way to help everyone is to make sure their lives never happened the way it did. Horrible I hate it so much. Also one ship I hate is rinzu or ranzu because they don't even interact once and it's so popular for no fucking reason other than "its hot" and tbh they would prolly hate eachother like petty bitches, they would NOT get along at any point. Also Koko and amane ship because if people actually read the manga with their eyes open it would not make sense. Anyways thanks for letting me be a hater in ur askbox, I love your blog btw

This is long, also tw for typical tokrev themes and sa

I think you're the first person who has the same opinion as me lmao😭. I also didn't believe it should have had an ending like that at all because of the themes that had been set up during the entire story. I understand people's perspectives of "It's Wakui's manga and it's his ending he can do what he wants" but media is supposed to be talked about, discussed and even criticized at times. That's like, the whole point of publishing stuff. As an enjoyer and supporter of Wakui's manga, I feel like I have the right to question some inconsistencies and contradictions (not directly attack him tho, that's never okay. like people who send death threats over ships and stuff that's messed up) that showed up in the ending. I also believe lots of people didn't really take it seriously as a manga idk. It had some very serious topics that people seem to forget about. For example: suicide, abuse, abandonment, child neglect, substance abuse, extreme violence, rape, prostitution etc, and I think people just kinda see it as a silly manga that has cool characters they like. And that's okay. It's okay to not take a piece of media seriously and enjoy it for the sake of enjoying it, not everything needs to be critically analyzed, but stop shitting on the people who take it seriously enough to question why the fuck it ended how it ended. Lots of the discourse took place between critical analysers who wanted an author to finish the manga by sticking to the themes and messages he has set up the entire time versus casual enjoyers who just wanted everyone to be happy for the sake of liking the characters. And I completely agree with the Izana thing!!!! You cannot claim to have saved someone by rewriting their entire life!!! Takemitchy was not supposed to be god!! Also, isn't the moral story of time travel that you should never ever do it? Because you win some, you lose a whole lot fucking more. I thought Draken dying was setting up that narrative. That saving Mikey, was gonna fuck up a whole lot. Isn't that why Chifuyu broke down?

Idk about you guys, but dark impulses being a curse disappointed me quite a bit. I thought it was supposed to be a symbol of Mikey being deeply mentaly ill. And that he had to deal with it head on and not run away all the time (this was Takemichi's entire storyline basically and the the main theme of TR). I just feel like it sucked because the message of the ending, whether Wakui intended it or not, was that you can't be fixed without magical time traveling. Although the story had some fictional aspects, it was realistic at least. I thought they'd deal with everything that wasn't time travel realistically.

Any ship with Sanzu and the Haitani's is hilarious to me and although I don't ship any of them seriously, the fanarts fun to look at some time (and you're right I think they look good together cause they're hot😭). You are completely correct about them not liking each other tho. It's actually canon. Idk if you remember during the three deities fight when Ran hit Haruchiyo with his baton? Nothing but pure malice between their eyes😭. The Koko and Akane ship actually triggers me because one thing about me? I'm not comfortable with large age gaps. Akane was 5 years older than Koko💀. And I didn't know people took what she said to him seriously. I thought she was just trying to not hurt his feelings? Koko and Inupi were around 7/8 when the fire happened. Meaning Akane was like 12/13. Uhhh Idk bout y'all but I don't think a 13 yo would be attracted to someone that young. And waiting for them to be of age is...😶. Be fr.

#ty for the ask <3 #anon this took me so long to write but i enjoyed it #i'm so serious about this tokyo revengers shit😭 #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers manga #tokrev #tokyo rev #rinzu #ranzu #koko x akane #thanks for liking my blog i always appreciate your support and ily #tw: sa mention

[avelera]

Two things I absolutely love about "The Sandman" Hob Gadling story:

1) I'm a slut for immortals. Vampires, gods, science enhanced, magic enhanced, just decide not to die one day and it inexplicably works, I don't care. Any story about immortals that does even the barest effort at historical accuracy and you've captured my heart and soul. I just fucking love immortal characters and Hob Gadling is such a wonderful, fascinating and unique immortal for all that we only see him illustrated in the broadest of evocative strokes.

2) Hob loves life. How rare is that? So many stories about immortals, very nearly all of them, I dare say as a connoisseur, are about how unbearable life becomes as the years stretch towards infinity. Yet we can't really know if that's the case because there are no immortals, as far as we know, outside our dreams and stories, and personally, I've never identified with that impulse. I'm terrified of death. I love life. I share Hob's desire to see the world in 2122, in 2222, in 2322, and onwards.

When Hob reaches his lowest point and still wants to live, my heart soars because finally, finally, a character with the same hunger for life, the same joy for life that I feel, not because life is always wonderful but because the myriad experiences of life are worth suffering for. There is so much to learn and so many people and things to love and so many sights to see, why would you ever want to give it up if given the choice?

I love Hob's spitting in the face of death, I love his absolute rejection of the void, I love his complete defiance of the call of the grave and of self-destruction. I love his total embrace of the joy and the pain and the possibility of life. I love that in a literary landscape replete with artful suffering and death made desirable, or at least embraced in its inevitability, there is a character who sees no seduction at all in the grave.

Fuck the darkness. Fuck the end. Even if it has to come, suck the marrow out of life until then and revel in every second given. Shake off the lethargy of despair and acceptance. As Hob said, death is a mug's game.

#hob gadling #the sandman #neil gaiman #if you're reading this #thanks for Hob I love him and I hope we see more of him

[madeofchaos]

TR 273

I am 1000% positive Wakui did this shit so that we didn’t have the obviously superior time leaper!Kazutora.

TRUST ME, YOU AIN’T THE ONLY ONE THINKING THIS AFTER THIS FUCKING CHAPTER!

Damn, this kid gets no break at all. So, Haruchiyo gets memories from the other timelines? I don’t blame him for taking drugs in the Bonten timeline. It must be trippy af looking at a mirror and being confused about the location of his scars. Unrelated, I have a headcanon that Sanzu pretty much abused the fuck outta prescription drugs instead of all the popular fanon choices - cocaine, meth, etc...

Other than the fact that Shin looks evil af here, I can’t believe this dumbass spilled his secret that easily.

Here’s where Sano Shinichiro fucked up majorly. Bruh. Like I know Shin’s laid-back with how he raised his siblings, but couldn’t he give Sanzu a pg-version.

You are totally gonna regret that when Baji and Kazutora decided to try out for little league (with your head). I don’t blame Shin though, he did accomplish his goal in making sure that Mikey was alive but he could have held on to it when he noticed the dark impulses on Mikey. (Clearly rationality is not a Sano trait.)

You. have. got. to. be. kidding. me.....

Believe it or not but I am starting to miss this pint-sized, evil nerd.

The more panels Shinichiro gets the more I am starting to realize his supposedly “weak king” status is bullshit. How strong were Takeomi, Wakasa, and Benkei for Shin to be called that? You see that imprint, there is nothing weak about getting your shit rocked by that hand.

Trust me baby michi, you don’t.

If Takemichi inherited Shin’s willpower to save Mikey from this exchange, I’m gonna fight someone. On the plus side, Takemichy did used his power like Shin said though. Lotta people died in the current time though....

Out of the trio, it seems like only Kisaki probably remembered this moment.

Wakasa you beautiful bastard it so great to see you! Damn, Shin really sucks at keeping secrets when he said this to Sanzu just a few panels ago:

I bet he told his customers which lead them to think Shin has been inhaling too much chemicals - from his cigarettes and the bikes.

Once again, I can’t believe this dumbass spilled his secret so easily!

Being Sanzu Haruchiyo must be fucking exhausting. He needs a vacation and better influences.

There more I get invested in Tokyo Revengers the more my sanity seems to take a dive.

I’m starting to think that Haru doesn’t really have any close friends. He got to know Mikey due to Takeomi and Shinichiro being besties and all but I don’t think Mikey would call him his friend. He’s just someone he plays with when Takeomi brings his him around. Baji’s behavior of him in the original timeline does show proof of this as they obviously wouldn’t know each other if they didn’t both know Mikey in some way.

With the end nearing all I want is for Haruchiyo to be happy... along with various others.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers spoilers #tokrev #sano shinichiro #sano manjiro #sano mikey #sanzu haruchiyo #akashi haruchiyo #og sanzu #kantou sanzu #hanagaki takemichi #takemichy #kisaki tetta #kisaki

[birdofdawning]

Sleepovers

“Here are two more,” said Myka, watching a well-dressed couple approach the tall, Second Empire-style house. The street lamps shone on the New England mist, and with the full moon out everything looked like an Atkinson Grimshaw painting. (Briefly she wondered if Helena had ever met John Atkinson Grimshaw but she quickly repressed the impulse to ask; Pete would make fun of her interest, and she didn’t feel like being made fun of tonight. She refocused on the investigation.)

The man (approximately 5’11”, medium build, receding dark hair, well dressed) was looking about nervously while trying not to appear like it, as the woman (5’5”, early forties, blonde, evening wear) preceded him up the steps and knocked at the ornate front door. A moment later they were inside.

“That’s thirteen people so far, all affluent-looking. Just the sort I’d expect to see at a private auction. But far be it for us to actually go in and stop them,” said Helena’s voice from the back seat of the SUV where she had constructed a sort of nest from travel blankets and her woollen coat. She sounded irritable.

“We don’t actually know that this is the site of the auction, or even that there definitely is an artifact auction happening,” said Myka carefully, “We only know that Tourtellotte is a collector, has had a previous connection with an artifact, and that he owns this house. We need more data — you of all people should understand that. They could be doing anything in there.”

“Yeah they could!” said Pete, lighting up, “Maybe it’s a—” Myka gave him a narrow glare. “—a sleepover! Just a fun Thursday-night sleepover, like when we were kids. You remember sleepovers, right Mykes?”

Myka glanced back up the street to track a passing car. “Not really. I never went to a sleepover when I was a kid,” she said absently.

Pete turned to stare at her. “What, like, not ever? Really?”

Myka silently cursed herself. “No. And can we not turn this—”

“So what was the problem? Oo, I know, you could never decide which books to bring! No, you needed to vet the rating of every scary movie! No, the houses were never up to fire code and you—”

“I was never invited, okay? Can we get back to this now? Our job?”

Pete subsided immediately. “Well, that sucks. Hey,” he nudged her with his elbow, “I would have totally invited you to a sleepover. If I had been allowed girls over. (I wasn’t.)”

“And if you weren’t ten years older than me. Creepy.” Myka elbowed him back.

“I take it,” said Helena’s voice from the back, “that a ‘sleepover’ isn’t some form of overnight transport?”

Pete turned around in his seat, excited again. “Oh man, H.G. doesn’t even know what a sleepover is! I’ve got two sleepover virgins here! Looks like we’re gonna have to do something about that when we get home.”

“Pete,” began Myka, rubbing her temples, “I am thirty-one. I don’t feel a tremendous urge to—”

“We’ll get some movies and some snacks, and stay up all night,” Pete carried on, “We can finally have that Aliens marathon! I’ll text Claud.” He pulled out his phone.

“Ah, so it’s similar to your movie nights. But with… sleeping?”

Myka twisted around to face Helena. “A sleepover is for children. Or teens, I guess. You spend the night at your friend’s house and do fun stuff.”

“And you sleep there? Or you don’t sleep?”

Myka thought back to the Baby-sitter’s Club books she had read. “You probably do fall asleep eventually, but there’s lots of talking and maybe watching movies like Pete says.”

Helena considered this. “When I was fifteen,” she said, “I was apprenticed to a dressmaker and shared a bed in an attic room with two other apprentices. We would talk for a time each night, if we weren’t too tired. I suppose this is similar, though I would have hesitated to refer to us as ‘friends’.”

Myka was very still. Helena rarely shared personal information unprompted, and what she did reveal was always cheerfully vague. “You were a dressmaker?” she probed tentatively.

“Not for very long,” said Helena, “thankfully. I was a terrible dressmaker. I was far more interested in the sewing machines themselves. Eventually I was dismissed for taking them all apart despite the fact,” she huffed, suddenly furious, “that I had improved the design and doubled their efficiency! But no, that irksome woman Mrs Moffet wouldn’t hear it. I was ‘a troublesome, wicked child’ and had to return home to my father in disgrace.” She muttered something else to herself and stared out the window.

“What happened then?” asked Myka, hardly daring to breath.

Helena gave her a quick glance. “Nothing very interesting.”

“Oh,” said Myka, disappointed.

Helena snorted, and then smiled at her. “Poor Myka! Alright. I was sent off to my mother. She was housekeeper for a very grand lady (new money though, and she had married into it), and I was a downstairs housemaid for a summer. And I was an even worse downstairs housemaid than I was a dressmaker’s apprentice, if such a thing were possible.”

“At Uppark?”

Helena was startled. “Yes. At Uppark. How on earth did you know that? Oh, Charles, of course. Yes I see.”

Pete put his phone away. “Okay, Claud’s up for Aliens next weekend, if we can wrap this up early enough. And then you two get to braid each other’s hair and tell scary stories all night!”

“Yes, that’s what it was like as an apprentice,” said Helena, losing interest. “Well, I would tell queer stories of time come adrift and de-evolved men and so-on, and they would tell me to shut my head and go to sleep because we had to get at four to light the stove. But there was certainly a lot of hair-braiding. Here come two more worthies trying to look innocuous. The one on the left is armed, I think.”

She and Pete carried on, focusing on the case again. But Myka’s mind was elsewhere, imagining herself and Helena at fifteen years old, sharing a bed. She thought she would have happily lain there for hours listening to that low, velvet voice talk of travellers from other times and blue bacilli and sinister orchids and enormous terrifying birds . Until sleep took Helena, and then, warm beside her, Myka would have listened to her slow breathing and inhaled the scent of her hair and—

Myka mentally shook herself. Obviously they could never have really been friends, not as teenagers in the ‘90s. Helena was so pretty, she surely would have been popular and have had no time for weird, awkward Myka Bering. But perhaps now they could be grown-up friends, who shared books and… and had coffee dates. Good friends.

Myka decided that she wanted to be good friends with Helena very much.

#bering and wells #early days - still secretly villianous Helena #myka bering #helena wells #pete lattimer #bering & wells #Warehouse 13 #Ficlet

[radioactive-earthshine]

⭐

send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

Thanks for sending this!

From Dark Crisis: Impulse

Scoffing, Bart answered him. “Superboy? You guys met him and made him a Legionnaire! Man, I was so jealous when I found that out, but you know what? He never rubbed it in my face or anything.”  “Bart, we never met anyone named Ko-”  “I know!” Bart snapped. “Because this timeline is all messed up! My father is alive, my mom isn’t trying to overthrow her crazy father, I have no idea what is going on with my grandpa but he’s supposed to be dead in this time, but I guess he’s probably alive! I’m supposed to be in the 21st century!”  “And what do you do in the 21st century, Bart?” asked Imra, the remnants of her headache finally gone but her mind was numb.  The speedster choked then he cracked. “I… nothing, really… We don’t even have a team anymore. Everyone’s gone their own separate ways. I don’t really fit in anymore. Wally has three kids who take up his attention, grandpa keeps to himself a lot, there’s Ace who is always on edge because I think he’s threatened by me because the world rebooted around him and I just… showed up. He’s always wanted to fight me from moment one, stupid. I don’t even care about being Kid Flash! He can have it, forever! Not like it matters anyway, because everyone is too busy to notice what title I might take up. And I don’t know where I’m going, as Bart Allen, or as Impulse. I’m not looking at life through the rearview mirror like Kon is, but I ain’t looking forward either, or even sideways,” he lamented and finished with one final softly spoken truth:  “I’m so sprocking lost.”  The room was very quiet after that for a few shaky breaths until Tenzil put his sunglasses back on. He stood very straight as he looked at Bart. “Gee, Bart. Sounds like that life really sprocking sucks.”  Imra glared at him. “Tenzil!”

“What? It’s true! We would never do that to him! And you heard him, his dad is dead! Weather Wizard is dead!” “It’s still insensitive and not helpful!” Imra persisted.  “N-no,” Bart said shakily as he stood up from his seat, Imra was quick to follow him. “I-I’m fine. He’s right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you worry.”  “You’re sad, Bart. Very, very, sad,” Imra spoke like she was trying to coax a feral animal down from a tree. “But I do sense that rage. I don’t know why you have these memories, but trust me when I say this, as your friend; we love you. And you will always have a place with us. The Legion will never be the same without Impulse. Understand? We need you.” She reached for him, hands and arms wide open.  Rest.  Bart blinked two large tears from his golden eyes and he reached for Imra. The embrace she enveloped him in was tight and loving, and in the far reaches of his mind Bart was reminded of Cissie and her long golden hair.  “It’s going to be alright, we’ll figure this out together.”

This particular scene was the pinch point for Bart to finally start doubting his own memories, where he started to 'fall' for the reality where he had everything he really, truly wanted all his life. It was a scene that I deliberately wove in some canon placement for Bart, it also ironically mirrors what it's like to enter adulthood where all those friendships you formed as a teen often do just drift apart and changed. Even when you never thought they would. It's grief. Grief of what he knew was perfect having totally changed on him and grief that it might not have ever been real in the first place. And he so desperately wants it all to be real. To be valid.

Note: Tenzil's comment about Don being "Weather Wizard" - Don in this little pocket reality for Bart is the Director for the Weather Control Systems and it is a sort of campy nickname, Don is sort of like a Bill Nye character but for weather and people generally love him.

Fanfic Writers Director's Cut

#my writing #bart allen

[snailsandpuppy-dogtails]

After They've Gone

So. This is my third iteration of the line "Stop running! I know I'm not the only one who feels this." This one is very much smut. So, you've been warned.

1,666 words  😈 Garvez

Luke groaned, "Penelope, stop running!” He had his arm firmly around her waist pinning her to him. He took her hand in his guiding it between them "I know I'm not the only one who feels this!”

Her eyes widened, she never thought he’d call attention to it. Him. His…The involuntary reaction between them.

It started out like any other group hangout, just a few drinks, games, stories. As the night went on, naturally, people left.  But Luke stayed, firmly planted on her plum couch. She’d come over to him flopping on the cushion, body landing closer than intended, her bare thigh sliding down and cramming next to his denim one. Turning she poked at his ribs “What are you still doing here Newbie?” He reflexively twitched at the  contact. 

Dopey smile spread lazily across his face, “Seeing how long I can annoy you before you kick me out.” 

Her eyes lit up “In that case,” she leaned away grabbing at his hands trying to pull him up. Luke, easily resisting her, grinned at the new game, he twisted out of her grip and grabbed at her waist tickling her. She jerked and flailed, head thrown back and forward, loud laughs and protests pouring from her lips. 

She fell more towards him and he wrapped his arms around her pulling her in close. Fixed on those lips, that happy mouth, his name coming out of it. Not Newbie, not Alvez, Luke. He felt the sun’s gravitational pull in that call and a hand slid up her back to catch her neck, pulling up to meet those lips. He watched her, so happy, and crushed his mouth to hers wanting to share that joy. Needing to feel it against him. 

She gasped in surprise. Crud. What was he doing? And oh god, this feels nice, running through her head, her hips riding against him involuntarily. But he had to be drunk. They would both regret this, he didn’t have feelings for her and it would just be awkward as a drinks-induced one night stand. 

His hand had moved to her hips guiding her against him, his kisses becoming more heated. God, yes. Finally. Finally this was happening. Finally a plan had worked. He moaned into her as she slid across the fly over his erection. 

She pulled back, “Oh my god. Oh. I’m so sorry.” she was untangling herself trying to free herself from his grip. 

Luke groaned at the loss of her lips on his, the loss of her weighty chest against him. "Penelope, stop. Stop running!” He had his arm firmly around her waist pinning her to him. He took her hand in his guiding it between them "I know I'm not the only one who feels this.”

Her eyes widened. She was out of breath, totally sucked in but trying to compose herself. “Luke. Agent Alvez.” she brushed the hair from her eyes and he smiled at how flustered she was. He pulled her closer. Her hand not on his hardened self shot to his chest in an attempt to keep their distance. Her heart was racing, she squirmed in his hold. “Luke. We can’t. I can’t. We both know how this goes in the morning. We both know this is...impulse.”  

He was watching her, watching the emotions flick across her face, ones he was sure she didn’t know she was showing. He closed his eyes, head falling softly to the throw pillow behind him, but not letting go. “Penelope. This may be impulsive, but it’s something i’ve wanted since that first conversation in the elevator.” 

He opened his eyes, hands roaming up and down her sides, thumbs trailing, molten heat staring back at her. “There’s nothing I’ve wanted more. And tomorrow I’d like to buy you dinner. But tonight. Tonight I want you." His hands moving back to her hips gripping them firmly, “And I want me.” He dragged her across him again, her mouth dropping open at the friction. “And I want us.” He sat up, a hand moving to tangle in her hair, he was towering over her, voice dark, gravel. “And I definitely want this. Do you?“ 

 Suddenly, forming words was the most difficult thing in the world. Air escaped her mouth as she nodded her consent. Slowly he pulled her into a kiss, long, sensual, guiding her back as they went. His hand moved up her thigh, leg wrapping around his, hips pulling tortiously on hers. She keened and sighed, breath becoming short. His hand snaked between her and the sofa, unzipping her dress and moving it off her arms, exposing her breasts. Her leg tightened around him, grinding herself hard against him, arching up. Flesh thrust in his face, he took hold descending on her, lips sucking, tongue laving, teeth grazing the tender, hot skin. She was seeking friction, hard and fast, but he wanted more. He bucked himself up, holding himself away, hand plunging between her legs, roughly pulling off the lace there. A needy sound of objection left her as she thrust up trying to meet him. His thumb stroked her jaw “There’s no rush, Chica.” His hand palmed her, calloused pad of his thumb teasing circles over her clit, fingers rubbing between lips until she sounded at her breaking. He pushed two dexterous fingers in, thumb falling harshly down as he worked her slick and wet, digits flexing and spreading, pumping and pulling, Penelope moving erratically against him, coming hard and sudden. His mouth capturing a startled gasp, fingers working her through it until she slowed to a stop, both panting.  

Her hands stroked the muscled lines of his back, somehow they were both still mostly clothed and yet that was one of the best orgasms of her life. She bit at his neck, and squirmed under him still feeling him hard against her. “Penelope, I don’t think…I don’t have anything.” Her hands were drifting up and under his shirt, kneading and pulling as she slowly built herself up again moving against him. “I do” She mumbled into his warm skin. He leaned back, freeing her. 

While she was retrieving protection he went to the kitchen getting them each a drink. She found him at the sink and wrapped her arms around him, body flush, she’d removed her dress. Hands feeling the hard pecs beneath his shirt. She buried her face into his back, condoms tossed on the counter in front of them as she worked at the buttons on his chest. He laughed pulling the shirt off and turned himself to face her, capturing her lips then quickly trailing down her neck, across her collar, and to her breasts. “No fair undressing yourself.” His hands brushed the lace, nipples peaking through the fabric, she gripped his hair holding him to her as his mouth cascaded warm and damp around her, letting out a cry. He spun them abruptly, confining her to the pantry door, back slamming, ass bare against the wood, body lifting suddenly, arms scooping legs up and hands working under her quickly at his jeans. His hand scrambling blindly against the counter. 

Penelope let out a breathy, dark chuckle sucking at the spot below his ear “What’s the rush?" she mocked. 

Luke growled, hand finding the reward he’d been searching for, jeans falling to the floor. He stepped out, swinging her to the counter pulling away to push down his briefs and roll on the condom. She stopped him momentarily to touch and stroke him, eyes connecting, feeling him firm and thicken in her grip as he sighed and dipped. Penelope raked her fingers gently down his chest admiring all that was miraculously hers. 

Ready, he scooped her up once again. “Not the kitchen” she quietly directed. Luke pressed her between himself and cupboard once more, biting into her neck, grinding into her, “But what if i want you right now?” firm ridge of his cock rubbing. She whined, conflicted, and hated that she sounded so needy. He laughed softly as he sucked kisses along her throat “Bed or couch, Chica?” 

“You could do me on the floor for all I care, just not the kitchen.” Luke pulled away to look at her, eyebrows raised and scoffed in amusement. Then, leaning in for another kiss, voice like molasses, “Bed it is.” 

And god, she felt amazing around him. She was tight, and wet, and soft, and hot, and she kept making these fucking noises. She was running her hands all over him, pulling him into her further, flexing around him, legs, thighs, hips, walls. Every part of her welcoming him in, guiding him. Her voice calling airy under him, encouraging him, stroking him, filling him with pride for her. “Yes” and “Oh my god” singing through the room. 

She stilled at the way he filled her, full and firm, stretching just on the edge of pleasant. And when he started moving it was like nothing she’d felt before, everything touching at once, coming together and coming apart. Hitting nerves and tingling and tickling making her jump and grind to meet him chasing an edge that felt particularly good. His attentiveness to her reactions, his reverence for her body, carefully stroking and lovingly lapping, drawing out sounds of pleasure as he explored every inch of her with hands, mouth, and cock. 

She was on the edge, he could feel her tightening, fluttering around him. He thrust again and again and again, pounding into her picking up speed and depth, hitting further back with each thrust. She was coming undone, hands flexing, everything flexing, fluttering, voice high and pleading, body arching, she could feel him slick with sweat above her, his chest against hers all of him against her, his hand flying between them and pressing and her legs slammed around his, thrusting up she screamed out her release as he flooded his, pumping until he was empty, a grunting cry collapsing around her. 

He rolled next to her, pulling her close and kissed her cheek. “Don’t run. Please."

#garvez #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #luke alvez #penelope garcia #smut #lemons #ao3 #ask #kindof #i asked myself #and i said yes

[ninjago-bingo]

July Recap!

woot everyone!  another month just flying by, bringing with it this time 18 new pieces!  It’s been awesome to see everyone’s work so far, and I’m looking forward to what next month will bring :D

As always, if I’ve missed your piece, don’t hesitate to let me know!  This recap is in one post because I felt it more manageable than 50 XD

Art (low-res, click the link to go to the original post):

Bonds and trust by @emisnt2

Don’t trust Kai, Jay and Cole to cook together

Care by @jss-sucks

Out of all the ideas I could’ve chose, I chose “Little Lloyd in a box”

Golden by @eternityinfinitydivinity

Based on the “Golden Legend” short Ninjago put out on their 10th anniversary. By far my favourite of the shorts :DD

Habits and influence by @/emisnt2

When your little sister follows your swearing habit

Hugs by @/jss-sucks

“Haha! I love my little sister!”

Oni by @/eternityinfinitydivinity

I know that Golden Oni Lloyd probably has a mask, buuuuuut he looks much more awesome if he went full-on oni :D

Oni and blood by @destinymanticor

like a painful transformation? idk

Post-fight and impulsivity by @sebilini

After the battle the team searched for Zane’s body. They found it laying alone and destroyed among the rubble. But they had to leave it soon, as there were many citizens who urgently needed their help. They would grieve their friend’s impulsive decision for months to come

Return by @the9thghost

Same by @/emisnt2

Ninja but matching dino hoodies >:D

Fic

At Low Tide by @frozensoapbubble.  tumblr || ao3 || prompts: ocean and strength

A water dragon, living incarnation of the Endless Sea, saves the life of a young whale. The moment brings back memories – or rather, echoes of familiar words, fleeting images, shadows of sensations that the dragon had long thought forgotten.

If only she could remember what they meant.

Thank You, For Giving Me Wings by @weekend-whip​.  tumblr || ao3 || prompt: care

Wu reflects on a question Zane asked him years ago, as only now can he comprehend the answer.

Ghost Story by @ace-of-spaces.  tumblr || ao3 || prompt: ghost

After Cole’s turned into a ghost, he isn’t doing that well.

Jay’s decided to do something about that. Even if ‘something’ means an hour-long conversation.

Memorabilia by @/ace-of-spaces.  tumblr || ao3 || prompt: merch

noun; A record of things worth remembering.

Or, Every so often, Lloyd and Kai would spend a day together in New Ninjago City laughing at how derpy the Ninja merch could be.

Nyctophobia by @/ace-of-spaces.  tumblr || ao3 || prompt: lights

After the events of March of The Oni, Cole wakes up in the dark.

That is a recipe for a sure-fire disaster.

One Step At A Time by @unknownuncut.  tumblr || ao3 || prompt: habits

Kai keeps noticing habits among his friends but one stuck out more than the others.

too fast / too slow by @21st-century-ninja.  tumblr || ao3 || prompts: bonds and trust

Soulbonds- soulbonds are special. They’re magical, even. They’re groups of people with souls so close that they strip down even the barriers of individuality, filtering impressions of thoughts and feelings between each member of the bond without even needing to speak aloud. Before a bond is completed, these impressions remain impressions. But once the last person in a bond comes of age and turns 16, all of the members gain total access to the others’ thoughts and the bond is complete.

Lloyd is 100 percent certain that Cole, Kai, Nya, Zane, and Jay are his bondmates.

Then his 16th birthday comes and goes with nothing to show for it.

You’ll Heal But You Won’t Be Fine by @/unknownuncut.  tumblr || ao3 || prompt: healing

It was kinda dumb now that Cole thought back to it.

@k1ngtok1​ @crappy-coffee​ @morro-owo @grollow​ @master-of-cosmos​@roantheboat​ @art-i-sticks​ @viioletpixels​ @miserable-flamango​ @ninjas-that-go @marsipain​ @redefine-your-identity​ @pangolinsandnewts17 @master-of-fluff​ @vampireautism @highfiveu-withaknife​ @peachyninjago​ @applecranberryjuice​ @mitzle​ @ice-emperor-zane​ @curious-corvius @ninjago4life​ @arellys-arts​ @kumamoo-hq​ 

#recap #ninbingo #ninjago #ninbingo 22

[timeoverload]

I slept for 12 hours and I'm still tired. I woke up with a sore throat and I've been coughing a lot so I think I might be getting sick. I hope I'm not though. My body still hurts. I really wanted to be productive today but I'm not sure how much I'm going to get done. I will try to do something today at some point. I'm going to pick up something healthy to eat later and maybe that will make me feel better. I wish I didn't spend every weekend feeling like shit but I know I won't have to live like this forever.

I actually got invited to my co-workers going away party next Saturday night so I hope I'm feeling better by then. I'm happy she invited me even though we haven't always gotten along and maybe she doesn't dislike me as much as I thought she did. I haven't been to a party in so long so I'm looking forward to it. I'm excited to see some people I used to work with that I haven't seen in a long time. I haven't done anything fun this summer so it would be nice to be social for once. It's not too far away so I'm going to try to walk there so I don't have to drink and drive. Hopefully I can find someone to take me home afterward so I don't have to walk in the dark. I need to get out of the house so I will probably go even if I don't feel good.

I'm not going to get another chance to do anything for a while after that since I'm not going to that concert on the 26th. I really hope I can get my money back since I spent quite a bit on those tickets. It probably wasn't a good idea to spend that much anyway. I guess it was an impulsive decision. I feel dumb for buying them and I shouldn't have done that but at least I tried to find someone to go with. Maxwell, I understand why you can't go with me and it's not your fault so I can't be upset about that. Even if I did go, I would have to spend the whole time trying to avoid running into my ex because I'm pretty sure he's going with his girlfriend. I remember him texting me a long time ago and trying to get me to go with him because he was trying to convince me to get back together. Obviously I said no to going with him because I wanted to go with someone else and I told him that. I knew I would rather miss the concert than have to go with him because I wouldn't enjoy it. I'm still so happy and thankful that I'm not with him anymore. My life is so peaceful without him around. I do not want to see him at all, especially if I'm by myself. I would need someone there to defend me if I did run into him. I remember him getting confrontational with me and other people when he was drunk at the concerts we would go to together. It was so embarrassing and we almost got kicked out of a few shows because of the way he was acting. I'm sure he would leave me alone now but it still makes me anxious. It sucks because he and I share the same taste in music so I have to avoid going to shows by myself so I don't have to see him. I have already seen Mastodon and Gojira before so it's not a total loss. I'm sure they will be back again sometime and I'm trying not to get too worked up about it. I know I will get the chance to go to concerts again in the future and I'm excited to do that.

I hope I get a call from the doctor sometime because I still haven't heard anything. I really wanted to get my appointment scheduled today but they told me not to call until they contact me first. It would be nice to know if I need to do something to balance out my hormones so I can stop being so emotional. I'm wondering if my cortisol level is too high because I've been gaining weight but it's mostly going to my belly. I can't wear some of my pants now. I guess I've also been eating a ton of fried food lately. I'm glad that I don't look like a skeleton anymore at least.

I also have to go to the dentist in a few weeks so hopefully I don't have any cavities. I have been much better about taking care of my teeth than I was when I was younger so I think it will go well. I always get a lecture about vaping though. I want to stop but I still don't think it's as bad for me as smoking cigarettes.

I've been trying to figure out when I'm going to have time to take the cats to the vet in between all of my other appointments. That's not going to be cheap but they need to go so badly. I'm considering taking them to a different vet but I'm not sure yet. I'm not super fond of the place that I had to take them to before. They couldn't even call me back when I talked to them earlier this week so I'm having second thoughts. I'm not looking forward to taking them by myself because they are so heavy but I'm going to do it anyway. They hate being in the car and I don't want to drive across town with them so maybe I can find a place that's a little closer. I'm going to do some research first.

I have an appointment to see the eye doctor too next month but I might have to reschedule because it's on a Tuesday. I am going to see if they will let me leave work and come back because my eyes are bothering me and I need new glasses again. I really like my purple glasses though and I don't want to stop wearing them so maybe I can order them again with my new prescription. It's so hard for me to find glasses that fit my face and I think the ones I'm wearing right now are technically made for kids. Last year they told me I will need to get bifocals in the future and I think I need them now. I guess I will just have to wait and see what they say about it.

I'm going to try not to worry about things too much the rest of the day. I don't have any obligations the rest of the weekend so I know I will accomplish some stuff. I'm looking forward to going on a drive in a little bit and getting some food. I think that will make my day better.

I also feel a little better after venting about stuff. It really helps. I appreciate everyone that listens to me and it means the world to me. You know how to put a smile on my face even when I'm feeling bad. I always look forward to hearing from you!! You all make me so happy and I love you all!!!! Thank you to my dad and thank you to everyone at IBT for being so supportive and kind to me during this time. I love you Maxwell and I'm so glad I met you and my life is so much better with you in it. I wouldn't have so much support without your help. Thank you!!!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖

I'm going to stop rambling now because I've been writing for a long time and I'm hungry now. I hope you all enjoy the rest of the day and that everyone has a good weekend!! :)

#personal

[quickspinner]

Hello 👋🏽, hope you’re doing good 😌. I was intrigued by the Hallmark intro WIP ⚠️

WIP Asks (for reference, I've got asks for vipernette, honeymoon cruise sprint, and naginette scraps. you can still send an ask for what you want a peek at)

Oh man, I've struggled so much with this one. The Hallmark AU wasn't planned, it just kind of happened by accident as part of the prompt month I was doing. It turned into a whole big thing and ever since I finished it, I've been meaning to repost it on AO3 as its own story so that people can find it easier. I got it in my head that I could write a few bits and pieces to add to it just to spice up the reposting, and then...I didn't actually do that and so I still haven't done the repost because I am continuously vacillating between just do it and repost it the way it is, you can always add stuff later and but it would be better to do just do these few pieces and post it with the new content and so I have neither written the new pieces nor reposted the original. Total paralysis. Very embarassing.

Anyway one of the ideas I was toying with was having a sort of prelude where Luka makes the decision to leave the rock star life behind, but I don't know, I got all up in my head about it and couldn't make up my mind, so now it's just...sitting there.

He sat at the mirror in his dressing room, staring dully at his reflection. 

It wasn’t any one thing, really. It wasn’t that he objected to makeup or jewelry or hair dye. He’d worn all those things voluntarily before now, just not to this degree, or in these colors.

It was just that this...didn’t feel like his face anymore. 

“Killer show tonight, Luke!” Jagged boomed, bursting through the door. 

“Luka,” Luka murmured under his breath, but he knew Jagged didn’t hear. 

“The lighting effect on that jacket was killer, you looked fantastic! Now that was rock ‘n roll.” 

That had been ridiculous. Luka was lucky he’d even hit the right chord in the dark, dazzled by the LED tubes sewn into his jacket. Though he’d had to prove he could do it to keep Bob Roth from playing a recording instead. Luka would rather have died. 

“And you played the hell out of that set!” 

Luka couldn’t handle anymore. 

“Dad,” he said, and though his voice wasn’t strong, Jagged stopped talking. Luka took a deep breath, and lifted a trembling hand to lay it on top of the stack of papers next to him. “I’m not signing the contract.”

Jagged sucked in a sharp breath, and paused for a moment before he finally said, with very un-Jagged-like gentleness, “I don’t think you’re going to be able to get any more concessions than we have, son.” He came up behind Luka, putting his hands on Luka’s shoulders and looking at him in the mirror. Luka’s hand curled into a fist. Look at me, he wanted to say. Not him. “Maybe two more seasons,” Jagged urged, a hint of pleading in in his voice, and Luka could see in the way his brow pinched that he knew what Luka was about to say. “You just have to hang in there.

Luka took another steadying breath. “I can’t do this for two more years, Dad. I think I can hold out to the end of the current contract, but that’s it. I can’t—” His voice broke and he swallowed. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be him anymore.” He gestured at his reflection. 

He saw Jagged’s lips press together, and waited for the usual argument. He’s you, Luka. There’s no difference except what you imagine there to be. Instead Jagged put his hands on Luka’s chair, and turned it around until Luka’s back was to the mirror, and crouched down until they were eye to eye. “Okay, son,” he said, and put his hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Okay, Luka.” 

Luka leaned forward impulsively and hugged the older man. Jagged patted his back, and didn’t say anything about the way Luka’s shoulders shook under his hand, nor the smudge of makeup on the shoulder of his jacket. 

When Luka sat back up, Jagged slapped his knee and then straightened. “All right, let’s figure out how to get you through the rest of this tour. Bob’s not going to like this, and he’s going to pull every dirty trick he can think of to get you back on stage, so we need to make sure we’re covering ourselves. I’ll get Penny.” 

Luka passed the next few months in some kind of fugue state. He tried to pull himself together for his performances—he owed his fans that much at least—but the only thing really clear to him was the fight over the music he had been writing for his next album. It galled him, but eventually Luka agreed to sign the rights over to Roth Records in exchange for severing his contract without further penalty. He probably could have taken the label to court, but not only would that have most likely closed any future doors for him in the industry, it would have meant months of legal battles and being hounded by the press, and by that time Luka was just ready to go home. 

The night before he left, Jagged’s stylist cut his hair as a farewell favor, shaving off all the colored tips to leave plain black instead. Luka put plain black studs in his ears and swapped clothes with the least trendy intern he could find that was about his size. There was no disguising his guitar case and he couldn’t bear to leave it behind, even to be shipped later, so he packed the rest of his belongings in a duffel bag and slung it on his back over the case, hoping it would disguise enough of it. 

He was careful to act normal when he left. He kept his face slightly averted from the crowd of press, but otherwise, he tried to act like any other label employee heading home from a late night at work. His lips twisted in a wry smile when it seemed like he’d gotten away with it. It just went to prove his point, that Luke Stone and Luka Couffaine had become two such radically different people that no one even saw the real him anymore.

Luka got on the bus—a regular public transit bus, with cramped seats in tight rows and barely enough room to stow his guitar in the luggage rack—and took a deep breath, leaning his head against the window as he watched the city slide past. He didn’t feel as relieved as he expected...but he supposed that would come with time. 

#reader request snippet #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #hallmark au #pro lukamari

[sharkface]

do you have any leon and hop hcs to share 👀

Oh boy do I ever.

-Hop ends up leaving Galar for a while once he gets settled into professor apprenticing. As much as he likes Sonia she is still learning herself and once she's taught him all she can I personally think it would be very cool if he went to work with Professor Sycamore for a while. Kalos is a pretty tiny region but there's a lot to study and I can see him writing a whole thesis on its history. (Pan to me wearing a t shirt that says NORMAL ABOUT KALOS)

-having to learn to be his own guy outside of being champion is kind of tough for Leon and he ends up having to rely a lot on his friends and the other gym leaders for support. It's kind of hard for him to figure out what to do with his time but he eventually picks up pottery or something and is just total dogshit at it. You would expect this to be disheartening but I imagine after having to be Mr Perfect for his entire adult life having a hobby he actively sucks at could be his meat pumpkin

-I think Hop picks up smoking as an adult (on account of exposure to the french) but then quits because everyone is basically clinging to his legs like YOU ARE SO YOUNG YOU HAVE SO MUCH LIFE TO LIVE DON'T DO THIS NOO!! After that he just chews a lot of gum so he doesn't get the impulse.

-Leon made a weird choice with the hair as a kid and it followed him so now he's purple forever. Him and Hop both naturally have dark curly hair but he's at a point where he's just gonna have to keep the purple forever now because he can't deal with routine change. Hop's hair is purple because Hop does everything Leon does but he does eventually let it grow out like normal.

-The stuff in Hop's room is mostly generic popular pokemon related stuff because Leon always brings gifts but since they weren't really raised together he has no idea what to get for Hop(and their family doesn't seem all that interested in what Hop is up to either so they can't tell him).

-Hop's music taste ends up very much influenced by Piers and Marnie so he's just over here listening to Strawberry Gashes and Type O Negative and shit like that. Chipper little weirdo giving himself tinnitus on the tram

-Leon unironically wears those shirts that are like "PROUD UNCLE OF THREE CRAZY TEENAGE GIRLS WHO MAKE THEIR LIVING OFF FURRY COSTUMES" or whatever. He loves them he wears them to the fair and gets sad when they get covered in funnel cake grease stains

#I could go on forever. Trust me

[glazelilyy]

you, yourself (diluc)

pairing - diluc ragnvindr x gender neutral reader

word count - 2552

genre - angst with comfort

format - fic

warnings - changing yourself for the sake of others, crying, one sided discourse

summary - after a long day of work and fueled by exhaustion, diluc impulsively says some things he doesn't mean to you, his lover, and is confused when the next day you aren't acting like yourself and more like him.

a/n - yeah this is heavy. changing yourself to please others really sucks. additional note, the reader is a bit stylized for plot purposes meaning they have a bit of a personality to them but i still hope it makes for a good angsty experience. there'll be more of this topic with the other characters i write for which is why diluc's name is in brackets :)

content under the cut!

if master diluc were to embody wispy shadows and the darkness of night, you were a basket of sunshine and embodied warm, fuzzy bumble bees.

diluc himself wasn't exactly sure how he'd managed to fall at your feet, heart on his sleeve instead of locked away behind his chest. for someone who lives in the dark, you were the end of the tunnel, his bright light. he'd managed to stumble his way into love and yet you welcomed him with open arms, took his hands and said "we'll do it together."

you were no different, always the bubbly and cheerful one you'd found yourself at a loss for words when one day you realized the elusive and mysterious master diluc had captured your heart. in a way his liking to the shadows and quiet demeanor drew you in not unlike a moth to a flame.

you weren't total opposites though, after all a relationship needs to have some middle ground. you both loved chess, private time, and a good book in the early moments of evening when the crickets in the bushes that surrounded dawn winery had yet to come out.

a bit of an "oddball couple" (as kaeya affectionately referred to the pair of you), it wasn't uncommon for many locals to see your hand intertwined with the wine tycoon's as you walked towards angel's share—you rambling on about a pretty butterfly or the like you'd seen during your commissions today, while diluc simply nodded and listened along with a loving smile on his face.

diluc at first was hesitant to reach out to someone so luminous like yourself. where you thrived in light he lurked in shadows and he wasn't all that sure that his affections would manifest into anything meaningful. he can still fondly recall your comment on his perception: "to hell with opposites! i like you, you like me, that's all that matters!" you had said with the biggest grin you had to offer.

and you were right, despite your differences the only fact that mattered was that you loved each other. you both believed so at least.

but as of late, diluc's patience had been running thin. the lack of sleep combined with hours upon hours of work both for his business and for the protection of mondstat left him weary and lethargic. by the end of the week he felt little more than a shell of a man.

today, he'd woken up with a glorious three hours of sleep to his name, left in a hurry without the breakfast you carefully prepared (to which he deeply apologized with a kiss on your cheek), sat through countless boring meetings, and sifted through mountains of transportation and quality check documents.

by the time he was to bartend at angel's share for the night, the exhaustion was visible on his sullen face. the shot glasses in his palms felt as heavy as lead, and though drink orders came in through one end of his ear, they always exited out the other side like the faintest of winds. and something else brewed quietly within the confinements of his mind: anger fueled by exhaustion and frustration. he'd almost snapped at a nearby drunkard but managed to reign himself in, though he didn't know how long he could keep it up.

"maybe you should take a break boss..." diluc was brought back from his thoughts into reality when charles placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"...i'm fine," he meant to mumble, but it emerged from his lips more like a sour grumble.

he turned to resume mixing drinks when your hand came to rest upon his knuckles, stilling his movements.

"actually charles, he'll take you up on that suggestion. come on diluc." you gently pried the glass away from him.

"(y/n)." from his stern eyes and warning tone alone you could tell he wasn't happy with your interjection.

"i'm sorry, but you need some rest, even for just a few minutes." you smiled apologetically and took him by the arm, pushing the back entrance door open in the process.

the cool night air did little to calm the simmering anger and frustration that had been swimming in the deepest pits of his stomach for the past few days. in an attempt to get a grip on himself, he leaned his forearms on the wooden beams and massaged his burning temples with the tips of his fingers.

"feeling better?" with a gentle smile you placed your palm on his shoulder.

"...quite." he grunted, though his grainy voice betrayed his response.

"you don't really think i'd believe that right?" your teasing smile fell when he made no move to reciprocate or validate your comment. "you've been working so hard lately," you paused to collect your thoughts, and tried to pick up the mood with your signature brightness, "but on the bright side at least you've accomplished so much! i'm very proud of you and you should be proud of yourself too." still, no answer from your lover.

heaving a heavy sigh, you spoke up once again. "you're doing your best no matter what, i hope you realize tha-"

"must you always be like this?" the atmosphere suddenly grew cold and bitter, as did his voice.

"be...be like what?" your smile grew confused and began to feel out of place on your face.

"you drag me out here in the middle of a shift and for what- for me to listen to your rambles again?" he sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth and met your puzzled eyes, the ends of his fingers dug into the polished wooden banister in front of him.

"di-"

"there's no end to it is there? you simply ramble on and on and expect me to listen but there's only so much i can take. archons forbid you ever shut your mouth for once." the eyes that had looked at you so fondly this morning now burned with quiet passion, as if the gentle flips of a fan over cooling embers had begun to rapidly move up and down. you stood in utter bewilderment and hurt, each syllable of his words slapping you across the face like a whip.

diluc however, seemed not to notice the utter look of pain on your face. the rims of your eyes began to pool with tears as you desperately looked at him for any sense of rationality.

"diluc could we talk-"

i simply do not have time for this, please excuse me." he scoffed and brushed past you back in through the doors of the tavern.

and all you could do was stand there, watching as his figure retreated past the wooden door, and let his words ferment in your mind as tears cascaded down your face.

the words you so badly wanted to speak got caught in your throat and coagulated in place.

***

diluc doesn't remember how he managed to fumble through his last shift at angel's share, nor does he remember exactly how he somehow stumbled home and flopped into bed still wearing his day clothes. what he does remember is the feel of your hand on his knuckles, and nothing else. everything was a blur mixed in with exhaustion and frustration.

the morning greeted him with an aching spine that sent shoots of pain down towards his legs. unconsciously, his hands stretched out seeking the warmth of your body...

...only to find your side of the bed cold. his eyes snapped open and, though blearily, he scanned the room in search of your figure. perhaps you'd simply gotten up to use the restroom or change clothes. but much to his bewilderment, you were nowhere in sight. your side of the bed had been neatly made. the satchel you usually carried everywhere hung from a nearby rack in the entrance to the bedroom.

confused, he managed to clamber off of his awkward sleeping position from the bed and went about his morning routine. the feeling of going through the motions of his morning felt off without you by his side, reminding him to brush in circles instead of straight lines, or adjusting the broach on his chest while he fumbled with the buttons of your shirt.

he finished up and pulled open his bedroom door, only to jump in surprise when you stood there, fist raised as if you were about to knock.

"good morning." you politely smiled, looking at him with loving eyes.

the minute you opened your mouth, diluc felt a sick feeling crawl up his spine. your voice, it was odd, something he couldn't place his finger on.

"good morning, my love." he pressed a swift kiss to your forehead.

"i've made breakfast." there it was again, your voice. something was wrong, despite the fact that you looked perfectly normal, even your signature smile was on full display.

as if to silently ask you if something had happened, he placed one of his large, warm hands on your shoulder, the other finding solace on your cheek.

"you could have woken me up. i thought you loved my pancakes?" he spared a teasing smile, just for you, but it fell flat quickly. usually you'd make a witty remark or tease him just the same. but instead you simply stood there, that same smile on your face, and took his hand.

"the food will get cold." you spoke quietly, tugging him towards the stairs.

he obliged and followed but the nauseating feeling eating away at diluc's skin hadn't ceased. something was wrong, he could feel it. and yet as you sat down in front of him at the dining table and cut into your waffles, you appeared perfectly normal.

diluc mimicked your actions and stuck his fork into a strawberry. he looked at you expectantly, knowing that during the morning at breakfast, this was where you'd eagerly talk about the activities you had planned for the day. and yet you sat, munching on your waffles surrounded by a thick fog of silence.

he cleared his throat and met your eyes. "darling, what do you have planned for the day?" instead of going on an animated rollercoaster of dialogue like you usually did, you merely shrugged your shoulders and stuck another bite of waffles into your mouth. diluc frowned, now he knew something was up.

when breakfast had finished, he tried to pull you aside from the hustle and bustle around the winery but you took off with the excuse of needing to get to the guild early.

while he went through the motions of his day, he couldn't get his interactions with you out of his head. diluc hadn't feel the presence of that spark you held that he loved so much. what remained felt cold, and empty. it was quite unlike you to hold your tongue and keep your voice down, it bothered him to no end.

while he sat through meetings, the only face he saw was your eerily calm one. while signing documents, he could only remember the unusual quietness of your voice. these thoughts taunted him all throughout the day, he ended up abandoning what little work he had done in order to catch you before you scurried off towards another commission.

luckily for him, he caught you just as you were cashing in your last commission as dusk began to fall.

"(y/n) i'd really like to have a word with you." he panted, having run all the way from the winery to mondstat. one of his hands perched itself his knee and the other softly gripped your elbow. you nodded and let him lead you to the lake behind mondstat's walls.

"is something the matter my love? you've barely spoken a word." with both hands he took your face into his palms and thumbed your cheeks. his brows furrowed, creasing in the middle, the worry no longer held closed behind the cages of his mind.

you heaved a deep sigh and cast your gaze towards the grassy floor coated in the last remaining rays of sunlight, in favor of staring into his searing red eyes.

"i'm just a bit scared." you mumbled, reaching up to grip his charcoal coat. "scared? of what? have you been threatened?" you couldn't help but silently laugh to yourself and shook your head rapidly.

"no, none of that. i just...wish not to upset you." dumbfounded, diluc could only look at you with confused eyes.

and suddenly he felt his heart drop to the deepest pits of his stomach. the words he'd spouted towards you out of pure frustration and exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks as he looked through the fog that clouded his memory. concern and worry replaced themselves with an enormous wave of guilt as his horrified face looked towards you.

"(y/n) i- i can't believe i said that i-..." his grip from your shoulder slackened as he stepped back, raising a hand to his mouth as the guilt in his stomach swished and swayed like a torrential stormy sea. you fumbled with your hands, a bit at a loss for words.

"i just wanted to make sure you were okay...i didn't mean to make it worse...i'm sor-"

"no, no. do not apologize, i'm the one who should be groveling at your feet for forgiveness." he interrupted you, running his gloved hand through his frazzled locks.

"diluc..." you took his hand that had been gripping his mouth and held it in both of yours. "i won't lie, what you said hurt me deeply. but i know you were just exhausted and-"

"no, please. don't make excuses for me. i've made a mistake (y/n), but i promise you," his burning hands found their way into yours, gripping them with a passion you'd never seen in him before, "i meant none of those words. i love listening to you, i love your voice- archons you have the most lovely voice. please, even if you are to leave me i ask that you never hold your tongue-" he opened his mouth to speak more but you cut him off by slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you in a comforting hug.

"i won't leave you diluc." you mumbled into his shirt.

diluc's hands hovered in the air before holding you to his body in a desperate grip. "i deeply apologize, no words could ever describe how sorry i am that you heard those vile words from me, my love." you felt his trembling lips fall upon your temple, then your cheek. you pulled your face back to look him in the eye only to find tears running down his burning face. with a smile—a genuine smile—you rose your hands up and wiped away the streaks from his face.

"thank you, i really appreciate the apology." you pressed your forehead against his and brushed your noses.

he buried his face in the crook of you neck and breathed words you only rarely ever heard from him: "i love you." of course, you never needed to hear him say it to know how he felt, but whenever he did say it, he made sure to save it for just the right moment.

"i love you too diluc, thank you." you planted a kiss in his hair and buried yourself deeper into his embrace.

date published: june 25th, 2021

#gender neutral reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #diluc angst #diluc x y/n #diluc x you

[scarlet-sky4]

Insatiable [Vampire Baekhyun x Reader]

Pairing: Vampire!Baekhyun x Hunter!Reader AU: Vampires/Historical Genres: Romance, Supernatural Warnings: violence and implied smut Total word count: 7k

Masterlist

He was insatiable, perpetually desiring your blood no matter how often he tasted it.

The dead leaves under your boots rustled as you walked. You saw no point in being quiet—the creature you were after would sense you from far away even if you attempted to be silent. Your human heartbeat thrummed, enticing him to seek you out and steal all of your blood.

Sparse moonlight lit up your path, and the calming smell of nature encompassed you. It was past midnight, but you were far from tired. You had a mission you needed to carry out and it could not be delayed. Since you were a well-known vampire hunter, the terrified townspeople had asked you to get rid of a menace that had been tormenting them for a week. A fairly young and cruel vampire had decided to make this area his new hunting ground. Unfortunately for the town’s inhabitants, he did not let his victims live. He sucked them dry and left their corpses to rot.

The vampire dwelled somewhere deep inside this forest, preferring not to show himself. He watched from a distance and chose his next prey with care. Since you were the first human to boldly enter his lair since he had started targeting the town, you drew his attention straight away.

You felt his eyes on you, scrutinizing the young woman who was stupid enough to get so close to him, at night nonetheless. The black coat you wore looked inconspicuous and completely ordinary. Nobody would expect it to be equipped with hidden weapons. Wooden stakes, knives, a dagger—you were armed to the teeth.

Your prey appeared on the path in front of you. He stepped out of the shadows and stood in the moonlight’s glow. His eyes were red with greed, lips smeared with blood. Had he taken another life before you had arrived? Gritting your teeth, you swore to end his killing spree tonight. Your hand reached for the silver dagger hidden in your sleeve, holding it so that the vampire couldn’t see it. His hair was raven and merged with the dark backdrop of the woods. He looked overconfident, wearing a cocky grin.

“Good evening. What brings you here at this hour?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m going for a walk.” You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress the sarcasm in your tone. Your attitude brought a scowl to the vampire’s face. He raised his chin and stared you down. His eyes fixated on your neck—he was fantasizing about his next murder. You couldn’t wait to turn the tables on this bastard.

“Aren’t you brave?” he taunted. “I bet you’re a screamer like the one I killed earlier.”

“Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit,” you growled, shifting your weight slightly. You were like a snake about to strike, sizing up your prey. Underestimating him was out of the question. As vengeful as you were, you would not let your anger get the best of you. This vampire would go down like all the others before him.

Your words enraged him. He sprung into action and went straight for your neck, but you had anticipated this. It was the first impulse of most vampires because they were greedy monsters controlled by bloodlust. Your fingers clutched the hilt of your dagger. A flash of silver moonlight greeted your attacker as you pivoted, dodging him.

You retaliated immediately. Silver met skin. He grunted as your weapon slashed over his arm. Realization dawned on him, but you didn’t give him time to recover and kicked his chest hard. The impact of your foot hurled him backward.

You didn’t follow him, throwing your dagger instead. It hit his chest, lodging itself deep in his flesh. Sadly, it wasn’t enough to kill him. You would have to do it the old-fashioned way, using a stake. Since silver was like poison to a vampire, the injury hindered him and created an advantage for you. Smelling a quick victory, you reached for the stake in your pocket.

He saw it and bared his fangs at you. “Y-You’re a hunter,” he hissed in disbelief. “I’ve never met one.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Your smile didn’t reach your eyes, leaving them stone cold. You had no mercy for soulless murderers like him. He wouldn’t live to see the sunrise. The ice in your eyes was the last he saw before you plunged the stake into his chest. Dark blood stained your hands as you pushed it straight through his heart. He died instantly. His body fell to the ground.

You remained rooted to the spot for a few heartbeats and stared down at him. He could have chosen a less violent way to live, then perhaps you would have let him off the hook. But since he had killed mercilessly, you opted to do the same.

“What a shame. That dagger is ruined,” you grumbled. You wondered if you should pull it out of his chest and take it back, but it was a bad idea… you didn’t want any more of this bastard’s blood to soil your clothes and skin.

“Oh my, how violent,” a deep voice commented amusedly.

You froze as if struck by lightning. When had he arrived here? You would recognize his velvety voice anywhere. There was no doubt it was him; the only vampire capable of eluding you ceaselessly. You hated to admit it, but he was out of your league and far stronger than your usual prey. He could kill you easily if he wished to.

However, he seemed to have no desire to do so. Rather than ending your life, he preferred to toy with you. Sometimes he let you chase after him, other times he came after you. Each encounter with Baekhyun was exhilarating—he made your blood sizzle with adrenaline. You could never guess what was on his mind and what he would do next.

A shuddering breath left your lungs. You turned around and saw him. Leaving the shadows of the forest, he approached you. His hair was like everlasting moonlight, but the shade of his eyes tended to shift like a sudden storm. At the moment, his irises were blue like the sea—but you knew this could change any second when his bloodlust surfaced.

“Did you have fun without me, little fawn?” he drawled. “Where are your manners?”

Not sure what he wanted from you tonight, your hand came to rest on the spare knife you kept in your pocket. His sharp eyes caught you, and he smirked.

“Do you think this puny blade is enough to fight me? You should know better.”

Your pride didn’t allow you to let his remark slide, so you decided to prove him wrong. Whipping the knife out of your pocket, you attacked him without warning. Your determined expression made him arch his eyebrow. Baekhyun was not surprised by your courage (or recklessness) and dodged your attack effortlessly. He evaded each jab gracefully but only moved as much as was necessary to avoid clashing with you.

“Come on,” he provoked. “Faster!”

Gritting your teeth in anger, you lunged at him again, but he disappeared in the shadows of the trees. Other than him, you were blind in the darkness. It was typical for him to use your weaknesses against you.

“Catch me if you can,” he mocked from the shadows, his voice dripping with arrogance—he was well aware of who had the upper hand. “Are you scared, little fawn?”

That crossed a line. You refused to be mocked by the likes of him, a vampire. So you thoughtlessly followed him into the darkness, stepping over fallen branches and leaves. You were anything but quiet—your heartbeat thundered, and your breaths were erratic.

“Where are you? Show yourself!” you demanded. You heard his dark chuckle somewhere to your right. The sound made the hair on the back of your neck raise.

“You put yourself in a vulnerable position.” Suddenly, he was left of you. Squinting your eyes, you stared into the darkness, swearing you had seen a glimmer of red. It moved towards you fast as lightning—you couldn’t evade. A strong force hit your body, the impact driving you backward. Your body slammed into a tree. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, but it momentarily stunned you and this sufficed for him to close the gap between you. He grabbed your wrist and forced you to let go of your weapon.

“What do you want, Baekhyun?” you hissed. The proximity was nothing new—he liked to get close to you and it happened quite often you ended up stuck like this.

“You know that already, love,” he whispered. His eyes flashed bloodred and zeroed in on your jugular. The beats of your heart were delicious, causing his fangs to elongate with thirst.

Your knees weakened. The husky sound of his voice never failed to get to you. Only he had such a strong effect on you—but you would never acknowledge your hidden feelings for the vampire, a creature you were supposed to resent. It was immoral to have such sinful thoughts about your enemy, so you fought them vehemently.

Baekhyun on the other hand had no such qualms. The tip of his finger tilted your chin up, exposing your neck to his hungry eyes. He licked his lip, inhaling your sweet fragrance. It clouded his senses and roused his desire. His firm body pinned you against the tree, distracting you from your objective. Despite fighting him constantly, killing him didn’t cross your mind. Far from it. You wanted to pull him in and kiss him.

When his breath ghosted over your exposed neck, you bit your lip, inhaling shakily. The softness of his lips melded with your skin, hot and wet. You knew what he was about to do, you knew you were supposed to fight him, but your body didn’t listen. Fingers grasping his coat, you pulled him closer. He didn’t hold back any longer and sank his fangs into you, tearing your skin and drawing your sweet blood. Its irresistible taste exploded on his tongue.

You flinched at the stinging, but it faded soon enough and was replaced by something that never failed to scare you—raw desire for the vampire. It was far too intense to resist. Although you were supposed to be Baekhyun’s enemy, you couldn’t help but give in every time he craved your blood. The sensation of his lips on your bare skin was too tempting. You yearned for his forbidden touches even if he was only using you to quench his thirst.

Sometimes you felt shameful about this little secret you shared with him. What hunter in their right mind would give their blood to a vampire? Why did you allow it and not retaliate? You didn’t want to think about it. Ignoring the warmth fluttering in your stomach whenever he visited you was easier than accepting it.

A low sigh slipped past your lips when he licked over the bite mark he left on your skin, separating from you. He hadn’t taken much of your blood. Not enough to make you dizzy, at least. His lips were smudged with your blood, so he wiped it off with his thumb and stared at you so possessively you couldn’t breathe. His silver hair shadowed his eyes, but their red hue was unmistakable. At times, you were convinced he was insatiable, perpetually craving your blood no matter how often he tasted it.

“You keep seeking me out, Baekhyun. This has been going on for a long time.” What you said sounded like an accusation. You didn’t want him to know you looked forward to your encounters. They left your blood boiling, spicing up your job as a hunter. You had learned a few things while fighting him, some of which had saved your neck during encounters with other vampires.

“You make it sound like it bothers you, and yet you submit to me every single time.”

The cockiness drenching his tone irritated you. You swallowed an angry retort and curled your hands to fists. “What is your objective? My blood can’t be the only reason you keep coming back!” you said. Your voice didn’t sound as firm as you would have liked it to be. It wavered, betraying your curiosity and perhaps some insecurity as well.

Baekhyun merely smiled, offering you an expression that made you shudder. You never got an answer.

***

You received a plentiful reward for your mission. The townspeople invited you to join them in a celebration in your honor, but you declined since you had other plans. It was midday by the time you packed your belongings, intending to travel on to the next town. You didn’t like to linger in one place for too long since you pursued a very specific target—and the closer you got to your destination, the more impatient you became.

You had honed your skills for years with one end in mind; avenging your father. He had left your home with the intention of killing a vampire who terrorized a town in the northern part of the kingdom. However, he had never returned. The vampire, Jung Taeseok, had murdered him in cold blood. You had been distraught and angry after hearing about it. Your father was the one who had trained you to become a hunter up until this point, and so you decided it was your duty to finish his mission. It had become your new objective to stop Jung Taeseok, a vampire so ruthless he was known throughout the entire kingdom.

It was a risky endeavor, but you were willing to put your life on the line for this. Taeseok was a noble and a tyrant who owned an estate and a large portion of land, including a town with human inhabitants. They suffered under his cruel rule, but nobody dared to help them out of fear of retaliation from the cruel vampire.

You, however, were determined to end the injustice.

***

Hours later, you reached your next stop; a bustling town fairly close to your destination where you planned to gather information about your target and the land he owned. You paid for a room at an inn where you would stay the night and spent the remainder of the day in the local taverns, asking the residents as many questions as you could. Most were apprehensive about the topic, but some started talking after you bought them alcohol. Unfortunately, you didn’t learn anything new, only silly rumors and exaggerations.

It was almost midnight by the time you returned to your room at the inn. You were exhausted and looked forward to getting some rest. However, there was a surprise in store for you when you opened the door. A sense of danger befell you. Your body tensed and you reached for your new silver dagger. When bloodsuckers were involved, your intuition never failed you. And right now, you were convinced one of them was lurking in the darkness of your room.

Eyes scanning your surroundings, you searched for the intruder until a flash of silver and blue appeared in your field of vision. You exhaled.

“Baekhyun. What are you doing here?” you grumbled and kicked the door shut with your heel. You placed the dagger on the table and removed your coat, getting rid of your leather gloves. Despite feeling his eyes on you, you showed no signs of fear or discomfort. If he wanted to ruffle your feathers, he needed to try harder.

“I was hoping for a more enthusiastic greeting, love,” he stated as you lit a few candles. Their warm glow illuminated his pale countenance, made his eyes shine golden. He wore all black, as usual. The only things standing out in the dim light were his silver hair and his long braids dangling over his shoulder. “I know you’re delighted to see me, there’s no point in hiding it.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you sighed and walked right past him to the window, cautiously peering outside. “Did anyone see you arrive here?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffed.

You raised an eyebrow at him, inwardly wondering whether it was good or bad he had decided to seek you out now. You didn’t want him to get in the way of your plan… yet at the same time, your traitorous heart lept whenever you laid eyes on his gorgeous features. Sometimes you wondered if he could hear your heartbeats change when he was nearby.

“I’m gathering intel for an important mission, and I would appreciate it if you let me do my work without interfering,” you stressed while you threw him annoyed stares.

“What does this mission entail? Are you searching for a vampire?”

“It’s none of your business, Baekhyun.”

“It is,” he muttered, impaling you with his icy blue eyes. “You’re mine. I’m not sharing you with other vampires.”

You swallowed, fighting the blush that spread over your cheeks. The possessiveness in his tone made your heart jump—it wasn’t fair that a vampire had so much power over you. The foolish feelings you hid in your chest weren’t reasonable. Perhaps it was time to acknowledge them… but you were scared of what they might lead to.

“I’m not—”

His eyes narrowed. Red took over their ethereal blue and extinguished it. “You’re mine,” he repeated and approached you so quickly you didn’t have a chance to escape. Your gaze jumped to the dagger on the table and back to him. He was so close you had to look up to maintain eye contact as he cornered you at the wall.

“If you don’t believe it, I’ll convince you,” he drawled. His cold hand touched your jaw, fingers teasingly ghosting over your skin. His red eyes were hypnotizing—you couldn’t look away.

“Don’t touch me,” you managed to say, but your voice lacked resolve. You looked like a nervous deer, which didn’t stay unnoticed by your visitor.

“Why don’t you stop me then, little fawn? Aren’t you a capable hunter?”

You clenched your jaw, wishing you had kept your dagger within reach. Letting your guard down around this man was a bad idea. Had you become too careless? His hand distracted you when it cupped your cheek. Your skin flushed.

“Your heartbeat is very telling, love,” he smirked. “Your cold act doesn’t fool me.”

He leaned in without breaking eye contact, lips nearly claiming yours. “I can give you what you desire.”

Your eyes widened. Heat pooled in your stomach and although you fought it, your attraction to him was stronger than any logic or reason. He made your blood sizzle with need, he was in your dreams and your nightmares, consuming all of you—and you couldn’t refuse him. Your resolve crumbled to dust at the husky sound of his voice.

Your lips crashed on his, wild and urgent. His response was instantaneous. Hands finding your wrists, he roughly pinned you against the wall, preventing you from moving. You were at his mercy. A rush of excitement flooded you as he deepened the kiss and traced the seam of your lips with his tongue. The sharpness of his fangs grazed your sensitive flesh, making your skin tingle. You moaned into the kiss, eliciting a cocky chuckle from the vampire. He had you right where he wanted you, in the palm of his hand, starving for his touch.

Your kiss was anything but gentle, teeth clacking together, sharp fangs drawing blood from your swollen lips. Its iron taste was on your tongue as he kissed you with reckless abandon. You followed his lead when he pushed you towards the bed in the corner of your room. You stumbled, clinging to the lapels of his black jacket. Your wild kiss only ended when your calves hit the bed frame and he pushed you down.

He climbed on top of you, impatiently ripping open your corset and blouse. A low growl escaped his throat at the sight of your exposed jugular. Seeing the burning hunger in his eyes, you bared your neck for him—and he didn’t waste a second. His fangs sank into your heated flesh, your cry turning into a moan when his hands began exploring your upper body, mapping your skin with his cold hands.

Giving in to him like this was a sin, but it felt heavenly.

***

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and a sore body. Groaning, you stared at the ceiling before you forced yourself to get up. Your bare feet touched the wooden floor as you trudged towards the tiny bathroom and stood at the sink.

The mirror in front of you showed a version of yourself that was unfamiliar—but not in a bad way. Although you were drained, your skin glowed healthily and your eyes were bright with emotions. You looked happy, the happiest you had been since your father’s death. The sight astounded you. You shouldn’t be like this after spending the night with your enemy, but allowing your feelings to grow instead of locking them away had freed you of a burden. It made you feel light as a feather.

A drawn-out sigh left you as you inspected your neck and the swell of your breasts. Your skin was painted purple and covered in bite marks—he was insatiable in more than one way. You would need to cover them up if you wanted people to take you seriously as a hunter…

You were disappointed he hadn’t stayed until the morning, but Baekhyun was an elusive man, so it didn’t surprise you too much.

He had pursued you for a long time. Perhaps it was time to change things up—what if youchased him down for once? You stared at your reflection in the mirror, slowly shaking your head. First, you needed to carry out your mission. After that, you would have plenty of time to fool around with Baekhyun.

***

The end of your long journey was in sight. You had reached the town that belonged to Jung Taeseok. It was nestled in between a forest and a lake at the bottom of a valley, and the closer you got, the more apprehensive you became. This was it—soon, you would free these people of the tyrant who had oppressed them for decades. Your father was the only hunter who had ever dared to go up against him, and he had paid with his life. Therefore, you took Taeseok seriously as an opponent. You wouldn’t be reckless and bring only your best weapons once you entered his property.

Your legs hurt from walking for so long when you reached the gates of the town and passed them. Instantly, you felt many eyes on you. The humans residing here knew you were an outsider. It didn’t happen often that they received visitors since the town’s reputation preceded it. Taeseok was ruthless and nobody was willing to endanger their life by coming here.

Taeseok didn’t allow anyone to leave. As soon as he noticed someone’s disappearance, he hunted them down and punished them by killing their loved ones. His iron grip on the people here had left its marks. As you strode down the cobblestone street, you saw nothing but misery and desperation. The people were poor and barely had enough to eat, the wooden houses were run down and not in a good condition. Seeing all of this enraged you and strengthened your resolve to end this injustice.

You found the only tavern this town had to offer, and the owner nearly fell over his feet at the sight of an unfamiliar guest. You planned to stay here and wait until nightfall to break into Taeseok’s property, so you ordered a measly dish and a beer.

However, while you waited, someone else entered the tavern. You would recognize the determined sound of his footsteps anywhere—of course, he had tracked you down once more. Sometimes you wondered if Baekhyun was a better hunter than you yourself. He was capable of finding you no matter where you went.

“You should not be here.” His scarlet gaze was ferocious—you had never seen him like this, and it unsettled you. Baekhyun teased and taunted, he flirted and playfully fought you, treating each of your encounters like a game. Never before had he acted so serious in front of you. It was like you had uncovered a different part of his personality, one he had kept hidden from you. Right now, he behaved every bit like a lethal vampire.

You didn’t let your uncertainty show. Your professional mask was in place and didn’t slip. “I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what to do,” you countered.

“Don’t forget that you belong to me,” he reminded you harshly.

“If I’m so important to you, then why didn’t you stay? You just left after last night like it meant nothing to you,” you replied, biting your tongue when you realized you had gone too far. You hadn’t meant to sound bitter. You didn’t want him to know that you missed him, but then again, it was far too late to worry about that anyway.

Baekhyun’s lips twitched. He furrowed his brows as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. A conflict raged in his eyes, but it was soon hidden behind a blank expression.

“You’re no match for Jung Taeseok. Give up.”

You almost flinched. Almost. His cold exclamation hit you where it hurt. “I’ve hunted down countless vampires—this one will die just like the others!” you replied.

Urgency and severity accompanied Baekhyun’s tone when he spoke. “Leave before he finds out you’re here. This is too dangerous for a human like you,” he whispered and leaned in. His breath fanned over your lips, making you delirious. Your eyes were held captive by his harsh gaze. “It would be a shame to see you die so soon.”

***

Turning back after you had come this far was not an option—you needed to carry out your father’s mission. Thus, you left the town in the middle of the night. You wore your leather gloves and your dark coat, having prepared an array of different weapons. One of your blades was hidden in the shaft of your boot. You had been creative when planning this mission, expecting the worst.

After your conversation with Baekhyun, you had reached a fatal decision. This mission would be your last big endeavor. When it was over and done, you would allow yourself to rest. Hunting down rogue vampires for years had taken a toll on you. Initially, it had been exhilarating to dance on a knife’s edge every time you fought one of them, but the constant danger and the many encounters with death hadn’t left you unaffected. Besides, not all vampires were bad, not all of them murdered their victims when they took their blood. After tonight, you swore you would fight them when it was necessary.

Deep down, you longed for peace. You wanted to settle down, find a new home where you could belong and be happy. And perhaps, a certain someone would join you. You frowned and shook your head. Wishful thinking wouldn’t get you anywhere. Baekhyun wasn’t the type to settle down—he likely didn’t return your feelings anyway. Although lately, he had become increasingly possessive of you… what could this mean?

You reached the tall fence that encompassed Taeseok’s manor and reminded yourself to stay focused. Now was not the time to ponder about your strange relationship with Baekhyun.

With nimble movements, you climbed over the wrought iron fence, making sure not to rip your precious coat in the process. You landed on the other side, eyes set on the illuminated windows of the mansion. It was late, meaning the human servants had already returned to their homes, but they hadn’t snuffed out the candles, letting them burn down instead.

You were a silent shadow as you approached the looming mansion, but you assumed the vampire would notice your arrival soon enough. There was only so much you could do to avoid drawing his attention. The superior senses of your enemies had always made your job a lot harder than it had to be…

Since the heavy front doors were locked, you decided to walk around the house to look for open windows. Perhaps the servants had left one open by accident. They must have gone home in a hurry, not wanting to stay near Taeseok longer than they had to. Your eyes moved from window to window, ducking down when you sneaked past them. It only took two minutes to locate one that had been left open—it was the kitchen window. You gave it a little push and entered the dark kitchen.

Your heartbeat sped up as adrenaline flooded your system—you went into survival mode and unsheathed your sharp silver dagger. It was longer than your old ones, its blade reaching from your wrist to your elbow. You gripped its leather hilt tightly as you left the kitchen and ended up in a hallway with an elegant red carpet. It swallowed the sounds of your footsteps as you moved on.

The candles on the walls left and right of you were lit. You couldn’t hide anywhere, and should Taeseok pass by, he would spot you immediately. Swallowing your apprehension, you ducked around a corner and reached the foyer. A wide stairway led up to the next floor, and you chose to ascend it. The door in front of you was open and your eyes caught movement inside.

“It’s been a while since a hunter was foolish enough to break into my home,” a male voice mocked, startling you.

Grinding your teeth, you entered the room without further hesitation. It was a study, furnished with a mahogany desk and tall shelves filled with books. The walls were paneled with wood. Soft candlelight illuminated the eerie figure of Jung Taeseok as he stood near the window. He was dressed in expensive clothing adorned with golden ornaments—the vampire was filthy rich while the townspeople starved.

You raised your dagger and pointed its tip at the vampire. “Since you already know why I’m here, let’s get it over with.”

A mocking smirk curled his lips. “You’re very eager to die. How convenient you decided to show up now; I haven’t had any fresh blood since yesterday.”

Taeseok gave you no chance to prepare yourself. He moved fast—as fast as Baekhyun—and you barely managed to raise your dagger in time to deflect his claws. The blade grazed his arm, ripping a hole in his jacket. When he sneered at you, you got a good look at his fangs. They were elongated and ready to tear into your delicate neck.

You clashed with him again and again. Taeseok was insanely fast and agile, more than the average vampire, and you understood why even your father, a seasoned hunter, had struggled to kill him. No matter what you tried, no matter which trick you used, you were unable to sink your blade into Taeseok’s flesh. He was like smoke, impossible to get ahold of.

Unfortunately, his superior strength posed a problem as well. He pushed you backward, smashing your body against one of the bookshelves. The wood splintered under the impact and you groaned, pain gnawing at your back. You were bleeding.

“Are you tired, hunter?” he taunted as he strode towards you.

You cursed and forced yourself to get up. If he thought you would give up so easily…

However, the vampire had a bad surprise for you. Up until now, he had merely been playing with you, but when he smelled the sweetness of your blood, his instincts took over. An eerie red hue dyed his irises and his mouth twisted.

Fear budded in your stomach, accompanied by the sickening sensation of hopelessness. Had you made a mistake when you came here? You were no match for this vampire—he didn’t even have a scratch while you were wounded and bleeding. For how long would you be able to keep this up?

Taeseok shot towards you. A shocked scream built in your throat. You whipped your dagger up and evaded, but he was faster and caught your wrist, holding it like a vice. Instinctively, you reached for the knife on your belt. It was smaller than the dagger but no less sharp. You plunged the blade in Taeseok’s stomach.

His eyes widened. The silver knife made his injury sizzle and smoke, poisoning him. He let go of your wrist to pull the blade out and threw it to the ground. It clattered onto the stone tiles. Your hope for victory was snuffed out when his vengeful glare hit you.

“You will regret this,” he spat and followed up his words with actions. His hand went straight for your neck, pushing you back against the smashed shelf. You screamed and tried to stab him with your dagger, but he retaliated, gripping your wrist so hard you were forced to let go of your weapon.

Now you were unarmed, couldn’t move, and to make matters worse, the pain in your back became unbearable the longer he pressed you against the splintered wood of the shelf. To your horror, Taeseok raised your wrist and guided it to his mouth. You felt his breath on your skin, shuddering with disgust and fear. His eyes bore into yours, cruel and sadistic, as he bit into your wrist. The vampire’s fangs tore through your flesh as if it was butter. He wasn’t gentle, and the pain you felt was worse than anything you could have imagined. Stabbing heat shot through your arm, blood trickling down your hand.

At first, you struggled, cursing and shouting at him, but you soon realized it would only hurt more, the more you fought. A crushing realization overcame you. This was it—you would follow in your father’s footsteps. You wouldn’t leave this mansion alive. Taeseok would drain you and take every last drop of your blood.

Angry tears blurred your vision.

The fangs in your wrist disappeared, but you weren’t as naïve as to think it was over. Your body was crushed against the shelf when he sunk his fangs into your neck instead. A gasp left you at the excruciating pain—he was merciless. It never hurt like this when Baekhyun bit you.

The continuous blood loss made you feel weak. Everything hurt. You couldn’t tell where the worst injury was. The pain bled together and consumed you. You battled the creeping unconsciousness. If you fell unconscious here, you would never wake up again. He would make sure of it. Hands weakly pushing against his chest, you struggled once more, but it was futile.

You didn’t want to die here. If only you had heeded Baekhyun’s warning. He must have known what fate awaited you, but you had been too fixated on your revenge. Utter desperation prompted you to call out his name, hoping he was nearby and would somehow hear you.

Taeseok’s fangs were unbearably painful. You could no longer hold back your tears. Your jittery hands fell back to your sides as your strength left you. A sudden noise reverberated through the room, shaking you awake. Your hazy mind couldn’t make sense of it, but when the vampire was pulled away from you, a relieved exhale left your lungs. Your neck hurt terribly, but at least the fangs were gone now. With nothing left to support your body, you landed in a heap on the stone floor.

You heard an absolutely sickening noise—words couldn’t describe it, and you didn’t want to find out where it had come from. Your breaths were accompanied by panicked gasps. The dooming sound of footsteps neared you. Black boots appeared in your field of vision, and then someone kneeled in front of you. A cold hand brushed your hair out of your eyes before it traveled to the injury on your neck.

You blinked and gazed at the person, seeing silver and scarlet. It was him. With this realization came a wave of relief that crashed down on you. Baekhyun was a vampire too, so you really shouldn’t be relieved to see him, but you were. Because you trusted him.

The tiredness that enveloped you wasn’t threatening anymore. The pain that ate at you lost its intensity and your fear waned. You sighed, feeling the tips of his fingers on your jugular. His eyes were burning hot as he stared at your neck. You wondered if he was tempted to give in to his nature and drain you completely. The sight of you drenched in your own blood surely didn’t leave him unaffected.

“I warned you, love,” he said huskily. “I told you not to come here and now look at you. Such a waste.”

Your tongue was heavy, so you struggled to answer him. He scowled down at you, biting his bottom lip so hard his fangs drew blood. “Your heartbeat is weak. It would be easy to kill you now,” he whispered. “What do you think? Should I end your misery?”

Despite your vulnerable state, your gaze held no fear. “I trust you, Baekhyun,” you whispered, using the very last of your strength. “My life is yours.”

His ruby eyes stared at you as you gave in to unconsciousness. Silver and red were consumed by black.

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A dull ache throbbed in your neck. You floated in a dark void, unable to move or speak. Your limbs were heavy and you wondered if you were dead—or about to die. What had Baekhyun done to you? You couldn’t tell, but the ache in your body was an indicator you were still alive.

Urgency and panic overcame you, and so you struggled to open your eyes. Just like the rest of your body, your eyelids were heavy and wouldn’t move at first. When you finally managed to blink, the blurry image of a high ceiling appeared before you. Your back rested on a soft bed and you were covered by a blanket made of expensive fabric. Only nobles were able to afford such fine materials, and this made you wonder where you had ended up.

Sunlight fell through the windows to your right. They were partially hidden by dark red curtains, shadowing half of the lavishly decorated room. It appeared like you were in Taeseok’s mansion. Your eyes widened in realization. Was Taeseok still alive? In spite of your aching body, you shot up, ready for anything.

Your hands curled around the edge of the blanket when you heard footsteps somewhere outside. The door was opened, and Baekhyun’s lean figure appeared. He entered when he saw that you were awake and stood next to you, watching you with an unreadable gaze.

“Baekhyun,” you whispered. Your hand wandered to your neck, touching the sore spot where Taeseok had bitten you. The tips of your fingers touched a bandage—he must have taken care of the injury. Soft warmth spread in your chest. You noticed that he had changed your bloody clothes as well. You wore a loose black blouse and pants that were a tad too big on you.

“How am I not dead?” you asked and met his blue eyes. “My injuries were severe and I lost a lot of blood.”

“I gave you a few drops of my blood, just enough to heal your wounds,” he explained, and upon seeing your eyes widen, he added, “I didn’t turn you, don’t worry. I wouldn’t do such a thing without your agreement.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh?” he raised his eyebrow and sat on the edge of the bed. His sly tone of voice told you he was about to tease you. “Did the proud hunter just thank me, a vampire?”

“I don’t care what you are, and I’m grateful for your help.”

“I expect a proper thank you when you’ve recovered. Words are not enough to satisfy me,” he smirked, prompting you to blush. “You know what I mean, don’t you, love?”

The vampire had the audacity to chuckle at your flushed cheeks, moving closer to you. His blue eyes studied your pale complexion and your hair that fell in waves over your shoulders. Normally, you wore it in a ponytail to keep it out of the way. Seeing you like this felt intimate—he liked it when you let your guard down around him because it meant that you trusted him.

“What happened to Taeseok?” you asked. The question bothered you too much to ignore it any longer.

“He’s dead,” Baekhyun scoffed. “I killed him last night.”

“B-But he was strong, how did you—”

“He pissed me off, so I chose to get rid of him. It’s not like he could have stopped me.” He shrugged as if it was nothing. “His mansion will be mine from now on since he doesn’t need it any longer.”

“You could have ended my life too,” you said hollowly. “Why didn’t you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you until you understand? Humans are slow,” he sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. “You are mine, and I’m not planning to let you go. I won’t let anyone take you, not even death.” He stared at you, daring you to question him further, but you didn’t.

His words sounded harsh, and yet they proved you meant something to him. You had to be quite important to him. Never before had you heard of a vampire who would share their blood to save someone. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread over your lips, couldn’t hide the elated beats of your heart.

“I need to tell you something,” you began.

“What is it?” he asked. His hand caught a lock of your hair, toying with it while his crystal-clear eyes bore into yours. He stunned you with a mere glance—no matter how often you saw him, his dangerous beauty remained captivating. You wanted to run your hand through the silkiness of his silver hair, and you longed to feel his lips on yours.

“I love you, Baekhyun.”

His eyes softened—he appreciated you acknowledging your feelings for him. “I know. I’ve known for a long time.”

He let go of your hair and the lock fell back on your shoulder. His hand moved on to your jaw, avoiding the injury on your neck. Your lips parted in surprise when he leaned in and covered them with his. He kissed you slowly, gently, and let you enjoy his unusually tender touches. As if he had suddenly realized how fragile you were as a human, he made sure not to draw any blood with his fangs. All you felt was the softness of his lips.

“Stay with me from now on, love,” he murmured when you parted. “I’ll make you happy, I promise.”

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