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fraugwinska · 2 months

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Since your requests are open… can I request Alastor taking care of his sick wife? The crew noticed their mia and Alastor slinks away to their hotel room to find them dying (metaphorically) in their nest of blankets?

Thank you ;—; I love your writing sm! ฅ(•ㅅ•)ฅ

Whew - that was a first for me :D Switching it up for a little Alastor POV ;> I hope you like it, lovely Anon! (P.S. - The song mentioned is 'Unforgettable' by Nat King Cole)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

In Sickness and in Health

Alastor's day couldn't get better – adding another, large territory to his nicely growing collection, visiting his dear friend Rosie along the way, and now returning to his diddy hotel, full of entertainment, and with his lovely wife waiting for his return: He was in a rightfully jolly mood.

He'd left so early in the morning, letting his love sleep in deep, heavy breaths, he was wondering what she had been up to this day? On the way back, he stopped by the florist, careful not to touch the delicate, burgundy blossoms of the chrysanthemums, her favourites.

He entered the hotel to find the residents deeply engaged in another of the princess's silly bonding activities – a game of charades, as it seemed. Alastor watched them with curiosity as Angel Dust gestured wildly, while the others screamed in chaos, throwing guesses his way.

„Fuck, man, come on! I'm making it OBVIOUS here!“, Angel moaned, throwing his hands frustrated into the air.

„The hell you are – you look like you're hurlin' yo' last drink like a garden sprinkler.“, Husk replies dryly, rubbing his temples, while the girls just look confused.

„It's fucking MOTORBOATING, jesus christ on a cracker!“

The group groans, exept for Vaggie, who runs over to him and grabs the card the flamboyant spider waves around.

„It's just 'Motorboat', you idiot.“ „Potayto, Potahto.“

Alastor, having heard enough of that nonsense, closed the entrance noisily. Charlies head whipped around to see him.

„Oh, hey Alastor, you're back early.“, she chirped, ignoring the still arguing group behind her. Alastor walked over and smiled down at her. „Business went better than I expected, dear. And you all are as... aspiring as ever, I see?“ He let his gaze fall back to the group, counting – five heads. Not six. „Would you happen to know where my darling doe is?“

Charlie blinked. „Umm.“, she turned to look at the group, as if she expected her to be there. Alastors eyes narrowed as the princess asked timidly if anyone had seen her.

„Nope, not me.“ „Didn't turn up on the bar, either.“ „She missed breakfast, too“ Alastor huffed, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach at the blatant negligence of his companions. He left Charlie and the others standing without a word, looking rightfully guilty and shouting apologies at his back. He made a mental note to plan an appropriate response to this mishap, and fastened his steps to his suite.

He knocked on the door, softly. No response. He listened intensely. „My love, are you in there?“ A quiet groan, muffled through thick wood and creaking walls, barely audible.

He opened the door his eyes searching through the dimly lit room - the curtains of the windows were still closed, just like he left them this morning.

„Alastor?“, he heard your voice, weak and tired, from inside the pile of cushions, pillows and blankets piled up on the shared bed.

He quickly set the flowers down on the bureau before he peeled layers of fabric off the built fort to reveal his precious doe – face reddened, hair damp with sweat and deep, panting in straint breaths. Her eyes opened slowly, they were watery and dull.

„Hello...“, she said, a small smile on her dried lips. „Hello, my love.“, he answered, brushing her hair out her face with timid fingers – when they touched her forehead, it was burning hot. Alastor frowned.

„You are sick, my doe....“ She hummed in response. A shiver made her pull the blankets around her closer to her. „I think I'm dying again.“ Alastor chuckled softly, cupping her cheek - heat poured from her scorching skin into his cold palms.

„Always so dramatic. No love, you're certainly not dying. Boiling yourself, maybe. You have a raging fever, sweet thing.“

„Potayto, Potahto...“, she murmured. Alastor scrunched his nose – Angel Dust certainly had a bad influence on his wife.

„Now, now, no reason to call for the mortician, love. Let's get you out of these dampened clothes for a start, shall we?“

She whined from the coldness he exposed her to, grabbing his arms as he pulled her out of the many layers of fabric and peeled the sweat-drenched clothes from her burning body. Her usually smooth and tender skin was colored in angered flushes of read, mimicking the blazing temperature she radiated. While he worked on getting her in fresh, clean pajamas, he murmured soft reassurances and sweet words of comfort to her.

Alastor knew she hated the feeling of helplessness a sickness brought with it. Her demise had been sudden, painful and most importantly lonely, having no one by her side while the disease had eaten her alive.

He placed her back into bed, a snap of his fingers had disassembled the abhorrent nest she had built, linens clean, soft and dry. She whimpered when he opened the windows to let some fresh air into the room, but sighed in sweet relief when the cold cloth he conjured for her cooled her forehead.

“Can you play something for me?”, she whispered after he had convinced her to drink some water, her lids heavy and almost out of consciousness.

Alastor brushed her cheeks tenderly.

“Of course my treasured girl.”

He pulled the chair from his bureau next to the bed, settling down with her hand in his. He chose the song carefully – it was the one she and him first danced to, when he and her were two singulars still, instead of one plural.

The soft tunes of the celeste and piano drove the dreadful, deafening silence out of the room, and when Nat King Coles voice started to serenade, her face relaxed into a serene smile, breaths flattening into calm draws of air.

Alastor watched his wife drift into healing slumber, her skin color already fading into her more normal shade. Relieved, he stroked his thumb delicately over her fingers, still safely wound around his. Yes. Alastor knew she hated the helplessness a sickness brought with it. But at least, this time, he could be there to guide her through it.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #charlie morningstar #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel vaggie #fraugwinskawrites #quick fic

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vivwritesfics · 7 months

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Lando Norris HC's

I'm burnt out and exhausted and I just want someone to love me haha

Masterlist

Lando

Where to begin?

He's... something else

Don't get me wrong, he's amazing

What's not to love?

High performance athlete who also streams on Twitch

Every bit the golden retriever boyfriend everybody wanted

Every bit the golden retriever boyfriend Y/N got

This man? Attention WHORE

He doesn't stop

Comes out with the weirdest stuff

It's so much fun

Wants his girlfriend with him for race weekends

Because he hates going a long time without pissing her off

Very important that his girlfriend gets along with Carlos

She's there when they're pissing about

During their McLaren days?

Mayhem

You kind of have a love every minute of it if you're dating Lando

Sitting in while he streams sometimes

Not every time

But being in the room, doing something while he streamed

Y/N could be doing her own work while Lando gamed and streamed

Chief cuddler

But can't sit still long enough for them to properly cuddle

Loves getting his hair played with

Oooooo running your fingers through Lando Norris' hair? Literally can't imagine anything better

Stealing hats and hoodies purely because they smell like him

Lando loves snogging

Kissing by lamp light, hands on her hips, grip almost bruising

Or his hands would be on her face, pushing away her hair

Man loves marking up

Marking up his girl and being marked up

Aka, hand prints, hickies, scratches down his back

Lando loved that the most

Feeling her nails raking down the skin of his back

Plus, it was easy to hide

Unless he was participating in an ice bath

Then he'd mark her up twice as good, since she couldn't leave marks on him

Out in the club, Lando is very touchy

Aka, doesn't let go of her

Holding her hand

Holding her hips or her ass as they danced

Y/N becoming one of the more photographed WAG's

Simply because she didn't want to stay hidden

She wanted the world to see her with Lando

She wanted the world to know how much she loved her man

After a race, when Lando was in the top three, he'd climb of the car, wave to the crowd, run over to the McLaren team at the barriers to celebrate

And then he'd pull Y/N against the barrier and she'd kiss his helmet, where she'd think his lips would be

Holidays with Lando!!

Oh my god, literally the best

Fancy hotels and Yachts

Adventuring together

Holidaying with other drivers

There was one particular holiday

It was very spontaneous, they hadn't booked anything

Just hopped off a plane and off they went

To the Canary Islands

It was difficult to get a hotel

When they landed, they could only get one

It was... hell

Kids everywhere, booming music like baby shark playing around the pool all day

It was all inclusive, with drunk, neglectful parents spending every minute getting burnt on the sun loungers or around the buffet

Y/N and Lando found themselves as far away from the pool and buffet as they possibly could

Y/N would be reading her book as Lando did... something

When parents came and took their kids for dinner, they got a break from it

They could go in the pool without kids swimming into them

The hotel had crazy golf

Happy Lando

Happy Lando dragging Y/N around the crazy golf course, giggling like a child

Driving with Lando

Ugh, simply the best

Driving around Monaco in the Fiat Jolly (before he sold it) with his hand on her thigh

Driving in any vehicle with Lando's hand on her thigh

Hitting every red light

Kissing at the stop signs (darling)

Lando belting out the lyrics to any song that comes on

Having a car playlist so that the both of them could sing along

Going to Lando's parents for Christmas

Traditional British Christmas

Aka, roast dinner, pulling crackers, drinking, playing board games and ending the night with a cheese board

Taking his girlfriend around Guildford while they're in the UK

(I'm pretty sure it's Guildford - a youtube video from five years ago just popped up which said Guildford)

(Guildford is the halfway point between where I live now and where I actually live)

After a year and a half, Lando asks her to move in with him

Six months after that, they get a dog

A Doberman, collie, or golden retriever, I think

The name? Badger

Why? Daniel

Aka, Daniel knew the couple were going to adopt a dog

He had to get himself involved somehow and

He placed a wager - if Lando finished below P5 he'd get to name the dog

Y/N readily accepted

Lando DNFed that race

And so, the dog was named after the honey badger himself

To this day, Lando doesn't know

Lando is such a good dog dad

The dog doesn't come to the race weekends like Roscoe does with Lewis

Either Y/N stays home or the dog stays with a trusted friend if they had both gone

Lando's social media becomes a fan account for the dog

Having oh so many pregnancy scares with this man

Who doesn't love a late night run to the shop to get a pregnancy test or two?

They do eventually get pregnant

Y/N finds out on a race weekend

She was at home with Badger when she saw the pregnancy test in her bathroom cabinet

Video calling her best friend, Y/N took it

She waited the mandatory couple of minutes before she checked the little stick

She had to hang up on her friend

It was just meant to be for fun

Nothing serious

But then it turned serious

What the fuck was she going to do?

When the fuck would she tell Lando?

Should she tell him now, before he's about to go and race?

Yeah no, not a chance

Not with how much she was currently freaking out

She waits until he gets home from the race weekend

The test (and all of the others she'd done) had been thrown in the bin

All she had was herself

This was fine

She wasn't freaking out

(she was freaking out big time)

Y/N stayed up, waiting with Badger for Lando to come home

As soon as the door opened, she jumped up and faced him

Lando dropped his things when he saw her

He'd assumed she'd been asleep when he got in

But no, she was still awake

And he'd been waiting for him

Warmth spread through him

Normally, when Y/N waited up for Lando, she'd jump into his arms

But not this time

She just stood there, staring at him

"I've got something to tell you"

Anxiety spread through Lando

Y/N told him

He dropped to his knees

Well, his one knee

For the longest time Lando had been looking for a sign that he should propose

He wanted to, he desperately wanted to

He was just looking for some sort of sign

This wasn't a sign, it was a slap in the face

With all of the racing, Lando hadn't yet managed to buy her a ring

He'd really meant to

When he got down onto one knee, it was at the very back of his mind

"Marry me?"

Yeah, that was how he asked

Of course, Y/N said yes

Lando began running around, looking for some rope or yarn or twine that he could wrap around her finger until he got a proper ring

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nostalgiclittlespace · 26 days

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Caregiver Husk Headcanons

TW: Hazbin Hotel contains adult themes. But this post is completely SFW!

Probably found out about your regression after you visited the bar one night, close to tears. Instead of immediately letting you drink away your sorrows, he tried talking to you.

Eventually, after requesting some hugs and soft, childish speech, he realized something was up. But in the moment, he just stayed patient and took you to bed.

After a conversation with you the next morning, you admitted to having age regression. He was confused at first, but understanding after you explained it all.

He expressed concern of you being by yourself when you had the headspace of a child, and told you to come find him if you ever needed anything.

Eventually it just became routine.

You would hunt him down, whether he was at the bar or his room, and he would keep you busy. He found some gear for you too, after seeing you chew your hands and pull his tail one too many times out of boredom.

So. Many. Stuffies.

(His drinking habits have significantly cut back since he started caregiving)

You had to reteach the grumpy old man how to play again though

There was quite a lot of disapproval the first time you sat down for a tea party, and Husk just sat there watching awkwardly instead of participating.

He still prefers hands-on games like Hide-and-Seek or tag in comparison to imaginative play (he has no creativity), but he will do whatever you ask because seeing you smiling makes his heart melt

His favorite thing is board/card games. Uno and Go Fish galore.

He always lets you win, and makes it convincing (perks of having a poker face)

He may or may not teach you to gamble using stickers and Goldfish crackers

You love seeing his card tricks!

Husk doesn’t have very many rules, but what few he does, he is very strict about. (eg. no sharp objects, no cooking without his supervision, stay out of the bar, etc)

Prefers to go with the flow rather than having a strict schedule for you. Whatever you want to do in the moment is fine by him.

If you are overstimulated, he lets you calm down by petting his fur or wings (which is a very special privilege reserved for you and eventually Angel)

This man is the best at reassurances.

Always tells you how proud of you he is, that you deserve all the love in the world, you’re safe and cared for, etc.

Takes care of your needs without question or judgment. Whatever food preferences, comfort items, accommodations–he’s got it.

Doesn’t really like leaving you with a babysitter, as he doesn’t trust anyone else to properly care for you. If he really has to, he’ll leave you with Charlie or Angel. They’re like older siblings to you. (Never in a million years would he leave Alastor or Niffty in charge.)

Husk isn’t very creative with pet names. He mostly just calls you ‘kiddo’ or ‘hun’.

He doesn’t really do baby talk; however he is always smiling softly and listening whenever you’re babbling about whatever.

If you have a nightmare or a meltdown, he keeps his cool. Usually, you get calmed down just by cuddling with him (he’s sooo soft). Then, he’ll turn on a movie or read to you until you fall asleep.

Alastor teases him for his ‘motherly instincts’ constantly.

As such, Husk flips him off constantly.

You started to do the same, and now Husk is trying to get you to stop. (with no success so far) Alastor is amused by the struggle.

#agere community #hazbin hotel agere #little space #sfw interaction only #sfw agere #sfw regression #cute #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husker #agere caregiver #caregiver husk #cg husk #Husk comfort #hazbin hotel age regression #hazbin hotel reader #reader insert #hazbin reader insert

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sebastianswallows · 2 months

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The English Client — Two

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: angst, alienation, and exhaustion

— WORDCOUNT: 3.7k

— A/N: Apology to any Italian readers, Tom gets rather grumpy with how cheerful everyone else is around him 😂 Also, we finally meet our reader in this chapter! 💚

It was just as Tom predicted. As soon as Clement saw the state of his hotel, he wouldn't stay there for another minute. He tried to persuade Tom to come with him to some fancier place he had in mind, assuring him he'd pay for all expenses, but Tom wouldn't hear it. He'd spent enough time with people like him to know that nothing came for free.

In the end, Clement took the taxi onward to the Plaza Grand Hotel, but not before writing down Tom’s hotel and room number on the edge of a crumpled napkin.

“I will call you later, yes? Just in case you change your mind,” he winked.

The rest of his day was spent in a blissful void, interrupted by the occasional pang of hunger — which he quieted with water and crackers, before falling asleep again. He was woken in the evening by cheerful shouting from outside, distant music, and peels of laughter down the hallway. The sounds reverberated up the faded frescoes and chipped columns of the building, but he had to remind himself that he was among muggles now — no hexes. At least his pillow was soft... He buried his head beneath it and hoped to suffocate before morning.

When he woke up properly, feeling squeezed and still exhausted, the sun hadn’t yet risen. The streets were quiet save for the hooting of owls resting in the trees and little insects on their flowers. Little lights from faraway buildings lit up the horizon.

Tom had slept nude, too lazy to change into something after taking his clothes off. As soon as he sat up, he felt all weak and dizzy, hair ruffled sticking to his face, body cut through with creases from the sheets and muggy with his sweat. Worst of all, his blood had all seemed to pool into his legs. Standing up like a newborn fawn, he walked over to the windows, opened them wide, and breathed in the cold night air. It made his body shiver. It felt pleasant. It felt a little bit like home.

The early hours passed slowly. He managed to wash himself in the little closet of a bathroom, brushed his hair, and even put a few of his old things in order. After eating a ham sandwich he'd bought from the train's food car and brewing a cup of tea with magic, he felt like a new man. He sat by the window in a loose bathrobe and watched the rising sun, and as his strength returned to him he began mentally revising the events of his journey.

“To think I'll have to go through all of that again on my way back,” Tom groaned. “And I thought the Hogwarts Express was a bore…”

Travelling abroad had been on his agenda for quite a while, once he found all the artefacts he needed through Borgin and Burkes, but he hadn't quite anticipated how physically exhausting it would be to sit in a muggle contraption for hours on end. If he wanted to explore the world in search of rare magical items, he would have to devise a more suitable method. Perhaps Thestrals…

His thoughts turned to Clement again. His wide grin, his bright blue eyes, his utter carelessness of composure... What an annoying fellow. Well, if the need arose to make another Horcrux, at least he'd know where to look.

The afternoon found him roaming the streets of the city. He spent a little while acquainting himself with the landmarks closest to the hotel just enough to find his way if lost, but he'd also collected from the concierge a list of local rare book shops and antiquaries to start his investigation. It was with nothing more than this that Tom stepped onto the cobbled streets of Rome and started walking.

The hotel Burke had set him up in, the Gallienus, was among the cheapest. It was nestled in one of the poorer parts of town, where the roads were narrow and beggars slept on the stairs of buildings boarded up. There was at least one pile of dry and darkened animal droppings on every street corner. Trash overflowed from forgotten dumpsters, buzzing vibrantly in the sun.

It took him quite a while to find the first bookstore, and longer still to find a good one. Most of them sold less prestigious stuff than what they advertised. The muggles were cheerful and friendly, if false, and a few tried to barter with him all the way to the door. A couple with fancy window dressing had only the veneer of the authentic, selling new volumes beaten up or rebound with cardboard covers.

Still, he made a few acquaintances, if not outright friends, among the shopkeepers, and his list of options grew larger as he heard from them of more interesting stores, but by evening he had nothing to show for all his exploration.

Moreover, he was thoroughly lost. The cafes frothed with little umbrellas in the streets, the fountains billowed in the air and danced, and all of it started to look the same to him. The fancy suits of people coming back from work and their black voluptuous hairstyles all blended with each other. He'd ambled his way from the Via Domenichino to the Colosseum, then to the chip-toothed ruins of the Roman Forum, higher to the Pantheon, then down, down toward the Tiber.

The air was alight with ages past and everything was moving. The shadows of aged stone, touched by dereliction and decay and the stray shellings of the war that ended just seven years ago, danced at the corners of his eyes together with the throngs of white-dressed women and the scooters zipping by. And at any moment it felt as if some ancient in a toga would walk out from between those columns and shake a bony finger at the careless youth, lamenting, and asking just to die again.

Tom stopped somewhere along the Tiber and gazed out across its murky serpentine flow. If he squinted, he could just about see the Vatican. A flock of nuns passed him by, flowing in quiet black and white against a blue and just as quiet sky. The air was warm, but chilling. He was surrounded on every side by broad buildings in smooth geometric shapes, and yet he’d never felt quite so exposed before.

Now that he had a moment to stop and ponder the experience, he realised that being in Rome felt like being in the world and yet above it, as if the whole city was floating in the sky. A dish on a high pedestal, yawning to the heavens.

“Maddening,” he whispered to himself. “Imagine living here forever…”

Under the shadow of a sycamore, he leaned over the stone walls that enclosed the river. It was a long way down… Its waters seemed about as dark as Thames, but smoother. He wondered, without really caring, whether there were any corpses buried there, some skeletons stuck in the mud, forgotten and unwanted. The chime of churchbells reached him, cutting through the buzzing of the cars.

What would he do tomorrow? Much the same thing as today, he reasoned… Only he’d have far further to go to reach these newer places he just learned about. He reached into his pocket for a little map he’d folded up, and tried to smooth it out over the stone.

“Why does it have to be so complicated?” he mumbled to himself as he planned his pathway back to the hotel. “Even London isn’t this bad, right?” He’d forgotten that it was.

Turning, he looked once more at all the young people that now lined the street. For some reason, all of them were smiling, happy. A couple was shamelessly kissing as they hid behind a tree. When they started sliding down its trunk, tight in each other’s arms, Tom rolled his eyes and started walking back the way he’d come.

III

Sweat had dampened his shirt collar and went down the centre of his chest, but somehow it bothered him less than he expected it would. It was quite a different experience from the Knockturn Alley cellar where he worked, or that pittance of a room he rented above an apothecary shop.

Here all was warm stone, and coffee, and cats that slithered around the corners. Here he was nobody. Not Mr. Riddle, not Lord Voldemort, the terror and equal envy of his schoolmates, not Tom the orphan, Tom the gifted student, Tom the Head Boy. He wasn't even a half-blood or a wizard. Muggles had no idea about such things. Here he was nobody — except maybe ‘bel ragazzo’ when he passed by a hot-blooded madam sipping her red wine. To shed his myriad identities felt light and clean, like an old coat sliding off his shoulders.

So, what was he beneath all that?

Today, he was just a wanderer taking in the sights. Tomorrow, maybe something else.

The paved Roman street branched like a vein of undulating black blood into narrower and ever-winding paths, some leading back to the piazza, others through old buildings nestled so close together they blotted out the sun. He took one such path. It was cooler here than in the open, almost bearable, even with the piling trash and stench of cat piss everywhere.

Tom had never shied away from squalor. If anything, the old stones and the dampness and the hint of sewage reminded him a bit of his old Hogwarts dorm. He smiled at the memory as he walked back the way he came, a hand in his trouser pocket and his mind far away, at how impressive and select and magical — in the most pure, extraordinary way, a way those raised with magic would never understand — it seemed to him when he first arrived at Hogwarts. How plain and pure his happiness had been to be away from wicked muggles, to learn that he was special and that greatness, surely, called to him…

The narrow alleyway he slid through opened into the wide and brilliant Piazza di Trevi. The fountain cast its net of water flowing down like gossamer. Tom stopped to thread his fingertips through its shivering pool and sprinkled a little bit of water over the hot crown of his head before walking on.

He had a vague idea of where he was, and what street he should turn on to return to his hotel before sunset.

His steps stopped almost on their own when his eyes fell on his reflection in the darkened glass of a store window — body tall and lean, chest blushing red, hair falling in his eyes with sweat. Beyond it, a flock of books on stout old wooden shelves. How interesting… Tom shifted his jacket from his elbow to his shoulder as he leaned forward to read. They were quite old volumes, judging by the typefaces and the engravings on display, and some he recognised as classic esoterica.

He looked at the sign above the door: Casa Ur. A reference to ancient Sumer? He looked past the glass more carefully, his every instinct pulling him toward this strange collection. If he was right, and they were real, then they were very old indeed. What carelessness, to keep them in such a place, hot and humid and likely infested by an entomologist’s dream collection of mites and moths and other pests.

Then he looked past his own reflection, past all the books, and there, in the middle of it all like a pale shadow between the shelves, he saw a woman. She was braced against a wooden desk, standing as he often did at Burkes when he was tired. She wore some sort of lady’s suit he couldn’t quite make out, and a string of silver shone dully at her neck like a wet trail of kisses. Her fingers were poised atop the pages of a ledger.

She was staring at him.

Tom let his gaze glide off her figure and back toward the books, keeping his cold and haughty look a moment longer before stepping away again.

How interesting… Why had none of the other shopkeepers mentioned it before? This was perhaps the first store he gave any serious consideration, and to think he’d found it all by accident…

The place had promise, but the building was far too large and far too old for rent there to be cheap — which meant the books were bound to be expensive. If they weren’t facsimiles or forgeries, then they deserved their price, but places like that also tended to be quite selective of their clientele, and Tom knew nobody in Rome who’d vouch for him. And as for his fake muggle money, that would only go so far…

What was worse, he had no way of reaching back to Borgin and Burkes. Knowing no other wizards in Rome, he had nobody to borrow an owl from, if that was even what they used in these climes, and the closest wizarding community he knew was down in Sicily. Muggle modes of communication wouldn’t reach Knownturn Alley, and international phone calls were awfully expensive. Tom was on his own.

“Well, there’s more than one way to skin a Puffskein,” he said to himself.

Before he turned the corner, he looked up at the wall and took note of the street he was just on: Via dell'Umiltà.

She started closing up the shop earlier than usual that day. Maybe it was because they’d only had two customers. Maybe because it was inordinately hot… Or maybe because of that handsome stranger who gazed through her window two hours before.

She felt unprofessional for staring, for letting her eyes wander down his fit frame tall and slender like a serpent… With his crisp white shirt liberally peeled back at the neck, his dark curls falling into his eyes, jacket casually hanging from his elbow and a silver ring around his finger, those charcoal trousers sitting so tightly on his slender hips and —

That was as far as she could see before he walked away.

She gathered her things slowly, waiting for evening to come and the streets to cool a little. She locked everything up and called downstairs to announce that she was leaving.

Stepping forth from that dark hole of history and out into the world again, she was greeted by a Rome painted in royal red. The sun was setting. As she walked by the Trevi fountain she could feel the steam that rose from the sprinkling on the stones playing around her ankles. The pigeons flew up with a fright, rustling through the air. People gathered in the square and cast around her a sea of murmurs in Italian and other foreign tongues. It was all foreign to her, of course, or rather she was foreign to it.

She could never quite fit in with the locals, however comfortable she felt there. Her accent always gave her away, and whatever the Italian “look” was, she didn’t have it — or perhaps strangers stared at her for other reasons, glances lingering behind so heavy she could feel them every time she did her shopping in her little neighbourhood, or went to lunch with her librarian and antiquary friends around the area. No matter what she did, what she wore, or how she did her hair, she remained a ‘straniera’. But that was alright. She didn’t mind being a little strange.

The pretty and ancient parts of Rome disintegrated, façades falling apart, pediments crumbling, cobblestones popping out of the eternal roads. The streets looked very different a few tram hops later as she made her way toward her rented flat. People looked the same though. The young ones were in the street, the women laboured around the house, the nonnas at the market, and the men all off at work.

But no matter the day, whenever she left for the bookshop or returned from it, the cafés were always full. People gazed out from beneath their striped little umbrellas, drinking from a thick white cup of coffee or sipping on a glass of wine, reading the news, petting their dogs, chatting with each other… It made her feel like life was passing by.

Then again, she had no mood for going out for coffee, not when she came home with her feet aching and her back sore. Even though all she had to do that day was sort out the books and fill the ledgers and occasionally deal with clients, the workday left her feeling battered. Besides, she had no one to go out with anyway…

Her work was solitary, and the friends she’d made were few — fellow book dealers and curators, all of whom were as busy as she was. And whenever they did meet during the occasional break, the only thing they talked about was work. There was no room left in anybody’s life for something different.

The cellar bar across the street from where she lived was already rumbling with a hint of lonely jazz, and the solid voice of men. The sound echoed past the old restaurant and bookshop near it that had been closed for years, and the rows of cheap apartments filled with working families. Out from underneath a shrub, a cat cut through her path. She stopped and almost called to it, but it ran through a hole in the wall of the neighbouring building. Getting out of the heat, perhaps.

Her building was cool on the inside for the instant it took to climb the two sets of stairs to her door, but then she stepped into her flat and it was like walking into an oven. Sunlight streamed through her windows all day, and no amount of curtains stopped the heat that built up there.

She peeled her clothes off her body before she even reached the bedroom, limping slightly all the way from the pain at her Achilles heel, and fell upon her bed face first. The shower could wait. Oh, what she would give for a massage… She rubbed her feet together as they hung over the side, and smiled at the fantasy of a pair of cold hands rubbing down her back.

She wondered what that handsome stranger was doing now…

Was he Italian? Unlikely given his pallor, although he had the same dark hair and eyes as all the locals did, and none of the whimsical, lost look of tourists. And he was alone.

His gaze, as much as she could make of it, had been scathing and critical, and he hadn’t even said a word. She turned around on the bed, eyes still closed, as she imagined him there. She saw all manner of people in her work, and although most of them were old, there were a few still young, still handsome… Mostly students at the local universities. But nobody, nobody she’d met so far, had been quite as striking as that stranger.

Was it pointless to hope that he would come again?

It was easier to put herself together after resting for a while. Living alone provided her with no greater luxury than this: there was never any need to rush. Dinner consisted of a cup of tea and biscuits, which was more than what she usually had, paired with a few page flips from a novel she was reading that she could hardly pay attention to. But every paragraph and sentence, any image conjured up by fiction, was haunted by the contours of that young man’s face.

Her sleep that night was deep and intoxicating, like a faint, her body giving her up to vague nightmares she would not remember. But she had a fresh enthusiasm when she woke up the next day. She brewed a little coffee with a smile and let it cool while she took a shower, and even the rumbling of the pipes couldn’t scare her mood away.

It was a feeling that entered her like an old tenant returned to a forgotten home. She used to feel alive in a very similar way in the early days of her employment at Casa Ur, when she thought she was so lucky to be chosen to run it for Baron Agarda. And she was lucky, she knew that, but she no longer felt it. The only thing she felt these days was weary.

So why was she smiling today?

As she rode the tram, wind tousling her hair and chilling the heat off of her neck, and walked back to the shop to the happy murmurs of tourists and the flutter of pigeons, she found her thoughts returning to the same idea — would he come today too? She smiled like a besotted schoolgirl all the way to work.

That good mood mellowed as the day went on, and she fell back into the dour ritual of tending to the shop. The same books awaited her as yesterday, the same letters to prospective buyers, invitations, packages, deliveries… Only the visit of Sister Silvia could cheer her up, and they shared a cup of coffee over yesterday’s Corriere della Sera.

By lunchtime, she’d forgotten all about him. As if to distract her further, Federico called to invite her to their usual spot by the fountain for a lunch break, and there he talked about the delicious anxiety he had from his own work. He was nice, she could not deny him that, and harmless, so it was no great effort on her part to listen. She indulged him, grateful not to have to respond at all, and afterwards, Fred walked her back to work with a feeling of deep satisfaction.

Work filled her days. The sort of work that never ends, that you never see the back of. Questions and ingratitude, files and lists and mess that builds up as soon as you misplace the smallest item. There was no hope, there was no end in sight, and she was so deep in these waters that there was no point in looking forward to anything at all.

So she was all the more surprised when three o’clock rolled around and there he was, walking through her door.

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient

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dreamingofep · 5 months

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Sinned Awakening pt. 19 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, abduction, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Hello and welcome to part 19! We're closing in on the end very soon and it is making me a little sad! I haven't felt so attached to anything I've written before so its all so weird! I'm sure I'll write random blurbs about Vampire!Elvis in the future so he's not going anywhere😉 Hope you enjoy this next part!

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think!

You paced aimlessly upstairs, trying to plot your escape out of there. Every scenario you came up with, ended up with you getting bit by one of these vampires luring in the house. The number of them in the house was unknown to you and that made it even more dangerous to try to escape. Your stomach growled and your head felt weak. You honestly don’t remember the last time you ate a meal. So much has been happening and you haven’t made time to take care of yourself. You peer out the window and see two men at the front gates. Getting through them would be tricky and almost impossible. You look down and see it would be a far fall from the second story and you’d probably break a bone making your escape an impossible one. The city lights illuminate in the background of the dark desert. You had to be a few miles away from the hotel and there wasn’t much foliage to hide behind if you made it that far. Vampire’s eyesight was perfect even from miles away, you knew you were going to get caught either way.

You curse under your breath and close the curtains again, making the bedroom pitch black. You turn on the lamp on the side table and sit on the bed, covering your face in your hands. Your mind wandered and missed Elvis more than anything right now. He was looking for you, you were sure of that. You just wished he could find you sooner. You look down at your bandaged wrists and see blood coming through the wrapping. The stinging still coursed through your arms and winced if you moved your wrists a certain way.

The clock on the wall ticked menacingly, reminding you that you’re running out of time sitting here. Your head continued to pound and the added nerves didn’t help anything. You had to eat something or you’d pass out. You were too afraid of that happening in a house with starved vampires. The possibility of there not being any food in the house made you ill at ease. Why would there be anyway? Usually, the food comes to them…

You had to go and look anyway. Hopefully, Raphael wasn’t downstairs and wouldn’t make you stay down there with him. You quietly make your way down the carpeted stairs, taking one step at a time. You were sure it was pointless being this quiet as they could probably hear your heart racing away. Peeking over the banister, you don’t see anyone in the living room and you let out a slow sigh of relief.

You remain stealthy and try to not make any noise once you’re in the kitchen. The space was huge and the cold marble floors made you shiver as you carefully treaded on. There was hardly anything on the countertops other than a few small arrangements of white azaleas on the far ends of the counter. There was a butcher block of knives by the sink and various items of cooking utensils in a container next to them.

You find a pantry closet and peek inside. It was dark and the air smelled musty. You open the door a bit further hoping the light will light up the pantry more. The first thing you find is a box of crackers. It doesn’t look like they’ve ever been opened, which is a good sign they haven’t been tampered with. You carefully rip the plastic wrap off of them, trying not to be too loud.

“Surprised you left your dungeon,” a man’s voice says behind you, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

You quickly turn your head to look at who it is and find yourself disgusted when you discover it’s Daniel.

“What do you want,” you say through your teeth.

“You really must work on your manners. That’s no way to talk to a man,” he grumbles.

“Go fuck yourself. I don’t owe you anything and do not need to talk to you nicely. Not after everything you’ve done to me.” You spat.

“There’s so much hatred inside you. You were never like this when you were with me,” he says smartly.

“Trust me, I was. I just knew how to hide it better.”

He takes a few more steps closer to you in the kitchen. His eyes were still red and he looked gaunt. You scoff at his current state. He looked pathetic and weak. Nothing like how powerful Elvis looked. While he was a new vampire and one whose power was unparalleled, it still didn’t scare you.

“So this is what you wanted? The entire time you wanted to serve someone like Raphael? Because that’s what you have done to yourself. There’s no free will with him.” You seethe.

“You wouldn’t understand,” He grumbles.

“No?! Try me. What was the purpose of being with me if you knew that all you wanted was to be a vampire? That doesn’t include me at all in that picture,” you yell quietly.

He stays silent and looks at you with disgust.

“You weren’t going to be in the picture. I was going to leave you,” he says low.

You nod your head and try not to laugh.

“Yeah… that’s what I thought. Selfish bastard,” you mutter under your breath.

“How did you find out? What they are?” You continue.

“After some time of working for him, he told me. He said if I wanted to work for him, I’d have to handle the truth of what he is. He showed me his fangs and it scared me to death. But I pulled it together and tried to not let it freak me out. If it did, he said he’d compel me to forget and I didn’t want to,” he explains. His admission was surprising to you, the slightest amount of change that came into your lives freaked him out and he always deflected issues when you both were together. You were shocked you never noticed any strange behavior from him when he found out about Raphael. But then again, you two were never together and always working.

“What was your job with Raphael? Because you were gone all the time,” you ask annoyed. “Vampires don’t need ‘bouncers’ to protect them 24/7.” You say snarkily.

He takes a pause and starts explaining nervously, “I was the one bringing him… food whenever he wanted. That’s why I was never around.” He explains.

“And how the hell does Raphael think he’s better than Elvis when he goes around doing that? He says Elvis has a control issue when in fact it’s him who has the problem. The only difference is he made you do his dirty work,” you say with disgust.

Daniel stays quiet and clenches his jaw.

“It wasn’t like that,” he says.

“And you call me stupid. That’s exactly what it is,” you scoff. “But now what? What are you going to do now that he changed you?” You ask.

“I uhh… I don’t know. Raphael hasn’t really explained anything to me yet,” he says timidly.

You laugh at him, not surprised at all by Raphael’s actions.

“Typical. I guess nothing has changed in the last fourteen years.” You mutter.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He snaps at you.

“When Raphael bit Elvis in the army, he left him to figure out everything on his own. He went crazy because there was no one to guide him or knowledge of how to live with this newfound strength he possessed. I wouldn’t doubt you have the same fate,” you say.

“He wouldn’t do that to me,” he grumbles.

“Mhmm sure. Whatever gets you to sleep at night,” you say rolling your eyes at him and then realizing what you said. “Oh wait never mind...” you say smartly.

He stares daggers at you, anger boiling off of him and he takes another step closer to you.

“Be honest with me, what do you see in Elvis? How could you possibly want him?” He asks.

You chuckle softly and shake your head at him, “That’s funny, Elvis asked me the same question in regards to you.” He looks at you annoyed and clenches his fist at his side. You continue, “But I’ve told you before, it’s none of your business. He takes better care of me than you ever could, that’s all you need to know,” you say coldly.

“You have to be lying. There’s no way that man would ever show a human any mercy,” he laughs at you.

“You don’t know Elvis! All you have heard about him are lies and rumors from either the newspapers or straight from Raphael’s blasphemous mouth,” you seethe, “How can you hate someone this much?!”

“The moment I knew he was fucking my fiancee! That’s when! I already didn’t like him, so it didn’t take much for me to push me over the edge. But when you told me what you let him do to you, I had never felt such rage. You were supposed to be my wife,” he growls.

“No! You already said you’d leave me once you were turned so you have no right to think you had a claim on me! You just became jealous of what you couldn’t have anymore. I didn’t want you anymore. It took me a while to come to terms with, but I can’t undo the past. We were not meant for each other,” you sneer.

"All he ever does is lie to get his way darling. He might say he cares for you, but that can all be over in a blink of an eye," he snarls.

“You know nothing! Did you ever meet him before the night of the after party or was this hate you have for him based on only what Raphael told you?”

He shoots you a confused look and you sigh realizing he doesn’t remember any of it.

“He compelled you, the night of the afterparty we went to. I know you don’t remember obviously but I’ve always wondered… what made you lose your temper so bad? Do you remember any part of the night? I had never heard you yell like that…” you ask.

Daniel’s eyebrows furrow and he searches for answers.

“I don’t know… I’m sure it was because I knew things about him I had thought you did not know of… That entire night was such a blur… I remember what you wore and…I do remember watching how he would look at you from across the room. That hungry stare he had, the way he was practically drooling, taking in every last square inch of your body… that was enough to set me off. I guess in a way, I knew then he was having his way with you,” you say disgusted.

You hum quietly to yourself and have to look away from him. The events of that night flood your mind and you can’t let him see your reddened cheeks.

“But now, you’ll have to live with the memories of him and that’s all. Raphael isn’t letting you out of his sight and won’t let you go back to him… guess you’ll be stuck with me after all,” he laughs menacingly.

“You should probably get back upstairs. Unless you want me to tell Raphael his meal is waiting downstairs for him," he growls.

You scoff at him and shake your head.

“You don’t scare me. You’re the same pathetic excuse for a man that I met years ago. The only difference now is you have fangs.” You hiss at him.

He gives you one last look of disgust and turns to leave you in the kitchen. You take a pack of crackers with you and throw the box in the pantry quickly. Before heading back upstairs, the glint of the stainless steel knife handles catches your eye. You had no idea how to hurt a vampire, but you knew they bled. That was part of the process of changing a human into one. You had to drink their blood to complete the process. If you could get close enough to Raphael and use on him… maybe you had a chance to run. Cause him to slow down in some way so he couldn’t hurt you as easily. You chose a shorter-bladed pairing knife and hoped it wouldn’t be as noticeable and would be easier to hide somewhere on you.

Nibbling on the crackers you found, you watch as the clock’s minute hand inches closer and closer to six o'clock. You knew you had to get down there eventually or you were going to be dragged out by your ankles. You weren’t going to change clothes or anything. He didn’t deserve anything nice from you. You hid the knife under the mattress in the meantime just in case anyone decided to come in unexpectedly. You lift the mattress and take it out. You step in front of the mirror and slip the blade in your sleeve. The sleeves were already long on the sweater so it wouldn’t look out of place that your hands didn’t show very much when you walked. You test it out in the mirror and make sure you try to move as casually as possible.

There was a sharp knock at the door and it makes you gasp.

“What is it?” You ask, quickly glancing over at the clock to see it is a quarter til six.

“Raphael wants you downstairs now. Don’t keep him waiting,” the voice says darkly.

A chill runs through you and you know you have to go. This was the time to try and make your escape. It would haunt you if you didn’t even make the effort. It was a long shot, but it was worth the try. You prayed Elvis was coming. He has to find you or it might be too late…

You tread slowly down the stairs, gripping the knife handle firmly in your hand. The air felt thick and it felt like you could cut the tension clean with your knife. You struggled to breathe and every breath you took felt like poison going into your lungs. Every last instinct told you to run away from this man and not take another step. It wasn’t that simple and you wish there was another way.

“Hello, honey. How are you this evening?” Raphael asks as you take the last few steps down the stairs.

“Fine, thank you,” you say courtly, making your way to the couch he’s sitting on.

“Please, take a seat with me. We should talk,” he advises, making a gesture to the spot next to him on the sofa.

You hesitantly make your way to the sofa and leave space between the both of you. He was wearing a suit tonight and a red rose tucked into his jacket’s top left pocket.

“What did you need to talk to me about?” You ask carefully.

“I was planning on giving you a proposition,” he says as his eyes look over you hungrily. He carefully pulls the rose from his pocket and hands it to you. It had thorns on it still and you handled it gently, making sure to not prick your skin and cause yourself to draw blood. You give him a forced smile and set the rose down on the small coffee table in front of you.

“Okay? In regards to what?” You prod.

“Your future. You need to decide what you want.” He explains.

Your heart drops because you know what is coming. Anything he was going to offer you was going to be awful and you didn’t want to hear it.

“I-I’ve already told you what I want,” you say shakily.

“Yes but you see, that isn’t an option. So I’m giving you an alternate,” he continues.

“You can either work for me and do as I say or, I turn you and you live freely as you wish…” he says darkly.

You hold your breath, not liking anything that he’s said to you. Both options sounded terrible and seemed like your life would end either way. His gaze is intense and unwavering, piercing into your very soul; the thing he wants most.

“Work for you… as in getting you something to eat whenever you wanted or?…” you ask carefully.

He chuckles amused, “Mhmm… that will be one of your jobs… and anything else I desired…” his eyes trail down, taking in your body with his eyes. You feel repulsed, not wanting to be here another second next to him.

“How long would I have to decide?” You ask.

“Sooner the better my dear,” he says darkly.

You want to hurt him right here and now, but you have to be patient.

Wait for the right moment.

You take a deep breath before speaking and soften your eyes when you look at him.

“I’d really appreciate… if you gave me a little more time. This is something I should give some thought to. You do understand, don’t you?” You say sweetly, cracking a soft smile. You boldly reach out to touch his knee, trying to get him to trust you and get him distracted. He quickly looks down at your hand on him, puzzled by your physicality. You quickly take your hand off and try to play it off as an accident.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep,” you say quickly.

He looks at you stunned, unable to say anything right away after your bold move.

You keep smiling at him, your eyes pleading for him to keep looking at you.

“No, not at all…You are fine. How much time do you need?” He asks softly.

“Maybe a day or two? Is that okay?”

“I don’t know-,” he says hesitantly.

“Please,” you interrupt, “give me some time. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll let you feed from me whenever you please, just give me more time,” you instigate, getting closer to him, and placing your hand back on his leg, a bit higher than before. Your thumb rubs soft circles there and you can feel him tense up.

His eyes wander, looking at every inch of you and his breathing is beginning to hitch. You couldn’t let your nerves get the best of you. You had to act now or there would never be a tomorrow. He places his hand on top of yours and slowly lifts it up to his mouth.

“How about now? Can I take a bite?” He asks darkly, looking intensely into your eyes.

Your heart races and your head pounds away. You can’t control your breathing as you look back at Raphael. His eyes start to change in color and the monster inside him starts to gain full control.

“Yes,” you softly whisper.

“Come closer. Sit down,” he says patting his leg softly. You clench your jaw, trying to not show the disgust you have.

You carefully get up and sit down on his knee, displaying your wrist out in front of him. Your other arm drapes along his shoulder, making sure to not let him feel the cold blade of the knife.

“Go ahead,” you say with the most reassuring smile you can conjure. You couldn’t prepare yourself for the pain he would cause you again. The wrist you had reached out in front of him was not one he’d bit yet so he would have to open up another wound or bite on the mark Daniel left.

He greedily grabs your wrist closer, taking a deep breath, and licking his bottom lip. He quickly unwraps the bandage on your wrist and squeezes your forearm tightly. You squirm a bit, the pressure making you uncomfortable, and not prepared for the agonizing pain.

His fangs pierce your skin before you can look away and the pain shoots through your whole body like a lightning bolt. You close your eyes tight and let out a loud scream. His bite felt like he was about to take a chunk of your arm out. He wasn’t just drinking your blood, it seemed he was trying to mark you with the imprint of his fangs. Making it known that he bit you. You hear him start to gulp down your blood quickly, feeding much more than he did yesterday. The pain sears through you like a hot branding knife.

Your eyes shoot wide open and fear takes over every last thought. You feared that if he fed like this for much longer, his venom would enter your system, beginning your change. Your head pounded away and your vision began to blur. You grab onto the handle of the knife tighter in your other hand, knowing you have to act now or it’s going to be too late.

He takes a pause and takes his fang out of you, taking a look at your fragile and weak state. He grabs your face, making you look right in his dangerous eyes.

“Jesus, I don’t think I can ever get enough of you. You’re absolutely delicious,” he growls.

You whimper out in agony, not ready for him to take another bite. He lets go of your face and sinks his teeth in your fragile flesh once again and drinks more. Your body felt limp and your breathing was labored, you knew there was not much more time for you.

You cry out again and feel the tears fall down your face. You knew it was time. You mustered every last ounce of strength you had left in your body and took a deep breath. In one fluid motion, you pierce the blade into his neck, forcing the knife to go as deep as it will go, and watch as blood seeps down his skin. He makes a loud gasp followed by a groan and lets go of your wrist. Still having a hold of the blade, you pull down on it as you get off of him and try to make your escape. He falls back onto the couch and groans loudly.

Your legs can’t keep up with your thoughts and you stumble at every other step you take. Your vision was doubled and your head felt like it was going to burst open. You can see the front door, or at least you think that’s the front door, and hobble to it as quickly as you can. You fall and the cold marble floors make you feel paralyzed. Your blood smears on the floor and leaves a trail behind you. You had no more strength in your legs and could only crawl from here on out. The door seemed closer and you could taste freedom.

Suddenly, you feel a hand grab a fist full of your hair, and your body gets thrown against the banister of the stairs. You gasp as more pain radiates through you and through heavy eyes, you see Raphael walk toward you. You can see him pull the knife out of his neck and he grunts as he does so. The clank of the knife hits the floor and he kneels in front of you. His blood was still gushing down his neck and he looked like he was about to go on a rampage. His hand wraps around your neck and pushes you up against the railing.

“You fucking bitch! Did you think that was going to hurt me? For a second I thought I could trust you!” He yells, tightening the grip he has on your neck. You gasp for air and try to push his arm off of you but it's no use. You’re so weak you can barely keep your eyes open. He shakes you, making you look at his bloody red eyes.

“You’re going to clean this up. Guess I’m not giving you a choice anymore; I’m turning you now. Drink. Now.” Raphael commands, pushing your head to his neck.

The metallic smell of his blood filled your nose and it felt like you could vomit. You groan in protest and try one last failed attempt to get free from his grip. He doesn’t let you move and pushes your lips into his bleeding neck. You try to keep your lips shut, hoping none of his blood will be tasted.

You feel your body weaken and your eyes droop heavily, no longer being able to keep your body working properly. His fangs enter your neck with a crunch and the front door bursts open. Your body goes limp and your head hits the floor. The taste of blood hits your tongue and you try to spit it out. Through blurry vision, you see Elvis standing there in the doorway, eyes red and his face and hands covered in blood.

“El…” you weakly whimper, feeling your eyes close and your world start to go black around you.

Pain ached through your bones and you didn’t want to open your eyes. You were too afraid the pain would only get worse and be too much to bear. You hear a loud beeping coming from the side of you and you feel something covering over your nose and mouth. Moving your fingers, you felt rough sheets and a cold shiver ran through you.

Slowly, your eyes flutter and the bright luminescence of the overhead lights burn your eyes. You wince and slowly lift your hands to your face but cry out in pain. Cold hands grab your wrists and you scream, afraid it is Raphael who has you in his clutches. You thrash your hands and head, trying to get him off of you quickly.

“Baby, baby it’s okay. You’re okay. Don’t move too much, you’re going to hurt yourself,” a man’s voice says. The southern twang in this man’s voice made your heart flutter in ways you couldn’t describe.

“Baby, open your eyes. Please, let me see those beautiful eyes,” he pleads.

You take a deep breath, hoping this was all a bad dream. Your eyes flutter open once again and try to adjust to the harsh lighting.

You look up into gorgeous cerulean eyes, soft and loving. His black hair fell in small strands on his forehead and he looked at you like you were the only soul on earth. The glint of gold that hung around his neck sparkled even in this lighting.

Elvis.

God you missed him. He looked like an angel standing over you. Maybe you had died and gone to heaven. You had always thought he looked like an angel, too perfect to ever be real and living on this earth. Maybe, just maybe, he was your angel and was ready to guide you into the next life.

You raise your hand slowly up to his face, caressing his cool, sculpted cheek. You sigh when you feel he’s real and not some hallucination.

“El… you’re here,” you whimper.

He smiles at you, letting out a relieved sigh, and softly caresses your face.

“Yes baby, I’m right here.” He coos. He hums pleased and kisses your forehead.

Your throat hurt when you tried to speak but you wanted to talk to Elvis. Ask him all these questions that were floating in your fuzzy head.

“El…w-what,” you hoarsely say and start to cough. You reach for your throat and feel it burning. It hurt like never before and then it hits you.

Did Raphael turn you?

You grab onto Elvis’ forearms tighter, fear encapsulating every fiber of your being. You try to clear your throat to try to speak again but it hurts too much. He calms you down, hushing you softly and tenderly.

“Shh, baby It’s alright. Don’t talk I know your throat hurts. It’s okay now, you’re safe,” he assures you.

It still didn’t answer your question. Were you turned? Was this what it felt like? The burning and the pain that you are dealing with right now?

Your eyes plead for more information from him. You needed answers.

The door swings open and you cry out, scared it was someone coming to hurt you. A woman in a nurse's uniform comes in with a clipboard and stops in her tracks when she sees Elvis hovering over you. He slowly stands up and straightens out his jacket.

“Not now. Come back later,” he instructs. Without blinking, she turns around and closes the door.

You look up at him and stare, watching the power radiate off of him so easily.

You wince as the pain in your neck increases and grab for his wrist. He looks down at you concerned and kneels down again next to you. You groan in pain and your eyes are full of panic.

He calms you, rubbing his hand in your hair, pushing the loose strands out of your face.

“Shh honey stay calm. You’re alright. You lost a lot of blood, you almost died on me,” he says weakly, tears pooling in his eyes.

“You’ve been out for a few days honey. Your body was so weak. He nearly broke you…” he says through his teeth. You feel tears start to form in your eyes and the throbbing pain on your neck doesn’t cease to stop. Your fingertips lightly graze the bandage on your neck and look up at him with concern.

He closes his eyes like he’s in pain too, rubbing circles on your hand.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry he did this to you. I should have protected you.” He says sorrowfully, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. Your heart pounds frantically, scared that your worries have come true. He turned you.

He takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“He didn’t turn you. I got there just in time. I’ve never seen such horror… What he did to you… I’m just so glad I was able to stop him,” he says with a sigh.

“The way he bit you, caused a lot of damage. He bit too deep and it leaves a mark on the skin when a vampire does that. That’s why it hurts so much to speak. He was trying to mark you… as his…” he growls. Your tears fall freely and sigh in relief and pain.

You weren’t a vampire at least. But now you carried Raphael’s bite mark. Making it known that he bit you and to taunt Elvis about it forever. You’re heart sank, not only did the pain that wracked through your body hurt, but your heart ached for Elvis. This couldn’t have been easy on him seeing you in this condition and now have to deal with another man’s bite mark on the woman he believes is his Chosen.

You sniffle, wishing you could talk to him and ask him more but you felt so tired and knew it would only cause you more pain to try and speak. He wipes some of the tears away from your eyes and smiles at you.

“Don’t you worry about a thing baby. No one is going to hurt you now. Raphael is… taken care of.” He assures you, looking away momentarily. You were relieved to hear such words and it gave you a bit more ease to relax.

“Please, rest honey. I’m not leaving your side. When you feel well enough to travel, we’ll head home to Memphis okay?” He asks with a smile. You nod your head and feel your eyes grow heavy, no longer able to fight the need for rest. You feel him kiss your hand and you fall back into the peaceful arms of sleep.

Tagging:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @loving-elvis @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog. @myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything . @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7 @lettersfromvenus @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista @oldh0llyw0od @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

#elvis presley #elvis presely smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis imagine #vampire elvis #elvis fic #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis x reader #70s elvis #sinned awakening #elvisaaronpresley

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cindersfireplace · 3 months

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4town Valentine's Day 💘

Jesse, Taeyoung, Aaron T, and Aaron Z walk through the hallway to their hotel room after taking a stroll around the neighborhood:

Taeyoung: There's nothing like bird watching on a calm afternoon.

Aaron T: I'm just glad there was an ice cream truck. That was one of the best chocolate cones I've ever had. Thanks for helping me chase it down Z.

Aaron Z: *walks behind him exhausted* Anything for you buddy 😊

Jesse: You good Z?

Aaron Z: *gasping * Yeah when I catch my breath next week I'll be able to function again 😮‍💨

Jesse: I wish Robaire came with us. It's good to get outside once in a while.

Taeyoung: I'm sure he has his reasons.

*Jesse opens the hotel room door*

Jesse: Yeah probab- sweet cheese and crackers! What's all this!?

*The room is decorated with heart, banners, balloons, pillows, roses, and LOTS of candles*

❤️🌹🕯️🕯️🕯️

Robaire: Welcome home my friends! I thought I would put up some decorations for Valentine's Day. *Sigh* Love is in the air.

Aaron Z: I didn't know love smelt like *sniffs* vanilla and *picks up a candle* … Late winter breeze. Whatever the heck that smells like.

Jesse: We were gone for like an hour? How?

Robaire: I'm very efficient when I'm passionate about something.

Taeyoung: So that's why Jess is always yelling at you to do your taxes.

Aaron Z: Were you not efficient enough to get any cookies or candy?

Robaire: That will be for the gift exchange.

Aaron T: Why can't we just buy cards?

Robaire: Because first of all the 4town best friend Valentine's super special gift yearly extravaganza exchange -

Aaron Z: I still say we should shorten the name.

Robaire: -is a time to appreciate each other's gifts and is a testament to how well we know each other. I love giving gifts and I put a lot of thought into them.

Jesse: And I very much still appreciate those custom ‘Art Dad’ oven mitts, but shouldn't we be focusing on our gig that day? The 4townies are so excited to see us perform One True Love live for the first time next week, and after the show I want to go to bed.

Robaire: Then go right to bed on another day of the year but you have to be there for the opening of gifts. Besides we've already drawn names for it so no going back now.

Jesse: Fiiiine if I must.

Robaire: That's the spirit.

Jesse: Uh I think a spirit is what we'll be if all of these candles stay lit. This is most definitely a fire hazard. I'm only agreeing if I get to put half of them out.

Robaire: Fiiiine. If I must.

Aaron T: We've known each other for a while shopping for each other should be easier. Right Z?

Aaron Z: Totally….

*Skip to the day before Valentine's Day at the mall*

Aaron Z: …Not.

Jesse: Come on Z it'll be fine.

Aaron Z: Not when I'm shopping for Robaire it won't. I don't know what to buy and he's definitely gonna try to one up us with his amazing gift.

Jesse: Does anything else in this world motivate you quite like your need to be better than Robaire?

Aaron Z: Absolutely, this is just a continuous priority of mine.

Jesse: So no then. Got it.

Aaron Z: I will search through every isle of this mall if it kills me. I will be victorious.

Jesse: Or you could breathe and let it go…and he's gone. Valentine's is gonna be fun.

*The next day*

Taeyoung: That must have been our best performance yet! Everybody was so excited, and despite my mild fear of heights trying to convince me otherwise, the rising heart platforms weren't so bad after all.

Robaire: Told you it would be incredible!

Jesse: Anyways now that that's over we can open gifts now.

Aaron T: Yeah guys the sooner we get this over with the sooner old man Jesse can take his nap.

Jesse: I'm not ol-

Aaron Z (whispering to Aaron T) You just want to get candy from your gift don't you?

Aaron T (whispering back): Shhhh I just care about Jesse's health…and my blood sugar.

Robaire: Anyways, who wants to go first?

Taeyoung: Me! I got T! Here you go! *Shoves present box into his hands*

Aaron T: YESSS! *Opens package* *gasp* It's a book of skateboard tricks! These are some of the most advanced out there and….a box of chocolate. Thankyou *hugs Taeyoung and whispers* This is why your my favorite.

Taeyoung: No problem at all.

Aaron T: So I guess it's my turn to give and I got Jesse *gives him a very messily wrapped package with 50 bows on it*

Jesse: Geez this looks interesting *opens the box* *gasp* ITS THE SUPER SMOOTH 3000! I've been trying to find this blender for months! My fruit smoothies will be so much better now! Thank you *lifts Aaron T off the ground in a hug*

Aaron T: Your *cough cough* welcome. Could you please put me down now?

Jesse: *Drops Aaron T* I'm next and I got Taeyoung. So here you go?

Taeyoung: *Carefully takes the box from his hand and opens it* Woah! Bird watching goggles! They even have little doves on them! Thanks Jess. I'm gonna have so much fun taking these to the park.

Jesse: I'm so glad you like them. They were some of the best I could find.

Aaron Z: I guess Robaire and I are last. You can go first Ro 😊

Robaire: No, I insist. You go first 😁

Aaron Z: Well this day means the most to you so you should go 😊

Robaire: And I like to share that joy with my friends so you should go 😁

Aaron Z: You.

Robaire: You.

Aaron Z: YOU.

Robaire: YOU!

*While these two keep going back and forth Taeyoung and Aaron T give each other a look and then open the presents themselves (whilst Jesse has too little sleep in him to deal with this)*

Taeyoung: Wow Robaire this is a really nice Destiny ‘s Child record.

Robaire: That's the exact one we listened to when we first met 🫢

Aaron T: Dang Z you got this cool basketball trophy. It even says ‘best basketball player I know ‘. Nice Sentiment.

Aaron Z: That was one of the first things I told you that I dreamed of receiving 😯

*They hold the gifts in their hands for a moment appreciating them*

Aaron Z: *clearly struggling* Th-th-th-

Robaire: Are you trying to say thank you?

Aaron Z: Nah I'm trying to say ‘That's all folks’. Yes I'm trying to say thankyou. Anyways thank you … for … this.

Robaire: Then I guess I want to say thank you too…I guess.

Jesse: Awww this is too sweet.

Aaron T: Maybe it wasn't about who got the best present after all?

Robaire: Mhm. Even though we all know it was me.

Aaron Z: Wh- if anything it was me!

Robaire: No you didn't!

Aaron Z: I got you the record that you sorry self was too BROKE for when we first met!

Robaire: I got you a CUSTOM TROPHY 🏆! Do you know how much that is in this economy?!

Aaron Z: But did I ask-

Robaire: But my-

Aaron Z: No but Robaire answer the question. Answer the question! Did I ask though? Did I?

Robaire: No but you can't just throw that in my face when I'm trying to be nice.

Aaron Z: Clearly not nice enough to admit I'm better…

*Senseless arguing continues in the background*

Jesse: T! They were this 🤏🏻 close to having a nice moment.

Aaron T: Sorry, I was just trying to bring some positivity.

Taeyoung: I'm positively sure they will be arguing for a while so I'm just gonna go now.

Jesse: Agreed. *yawn* 🥱 I'm going to sleep.

Aaron T: And I shall consume all this chocolate within the hour. I love Valentine's Day!

*Later that night Aaron Z and Robaire go to bed setting their gifts down on their night stands smiling at them and then turning the lights out to sleep*

❤️

#Happy Valentine's Day 4townies #Hope this is a nice and remember to love yourselves #(Seriously Robaire has a problem he lit like 48 separate candles)#I guess this could also serve as a Christmas special if you change the holiday a bit #Sorry if it feels rushed (which could just be a flaw in my writing) I made this literally the day before Valentine's Day #Anyways I'm gonna go eat candy now #4town #4townie #4town aaron t #4town aaron z #4town jesse #4town robaire #4town taeyoung

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hells-greatest-overlord · 3 months

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“Aye there doll face”

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

Bright lights, broken hearts, and the smell of alcohol everywhere you walk. The club wasent really your place to be but after the shit week you’ve had you couldn’t help yourself giving in.

First you ex, (who wasent even a good boyfriend, might I add) broke up with you because he said you were to “clingy and dependent on him for everything”

And then while you were working earlier a customer yelled at you and threw their drink at you. So needless to say u needed a drink- or four- so you tried to look decent before you went to the club

(outfit inspo)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

When you got to the club you headed straight for the bar top, ignoring a group of assholes whistling at you.

“please give me somethin strong” you said as the bar tender nodded giving a small laugh which in return made you roll your eyes.

you held the drink in your hand as a man walked up to you, he definitely wasn’t your type but at this point you didn’t have anything to love “ hey there baby, why don’t you let me buy u a drink” he said with a small smirk on his face. You nodded your head and he snapped his fingers and ordered a bunch of shots for the two of you.

Time had passed and you were on the verge of being on being black out drunk. “So there, why don’t you let me tale you back to my place. I got a nice bottle of whiskey and a nice warm bed~” he asked. You shook your head no “No thank you, I am going to sleep in my bed” you said back to him, his eyes turning a little darker as he put his hand around your wrist “please baby, let me treat you right, I can make ya feel good to”

The feeling of uneeze took ahold of u giving you an uncomfortable look at you pulled your wrist away. The male slowly becoming more aggressive as he was about to yell at you before another voice behind you stepped in “Aye there doll face, is this man bothering you?”. Luckily it was your best friend angel there to help save you “yes he is” you say as angel crossed his arms “look I know you and your type of people. If u get rejected you become a bitch until you get what u want weather it be by force or not. Luckily for you I don’t work like that, so either leave my partner here alone or we’re gonna have some issues.” He said

As bad as the whole situation was the word partner leaving angels mouth when talking about you brought a flustered feeling to your stomach.

“Whatever, not my type anyways.” He said annoyed as he walked off. Angel sat in front of you as he gave you soft eyes “doll what happened to ya? You ain’t ever come here unless it’s bad”

Up until that moment you didn’t really feel sad but after tonight you felt tears come to your eyes. “I..I-“ you were about to say but angel stoop up and gently picked you up with his arms “don’t worry about it doll, let’s just get you home.” He said as he carried you out to the a cab getting you in and taking you to the hotel.

When they got to the hotel you had fallen asleep in his arms, he carried you inside as the others looked at you confused as to if never seeing you before. He carried you to his room gently putting you in the bed as he coved you with blankets and grabbed a trash can, a water bottle, and some crackers for you when you wake up. “Rest well doll, I’ll be here when u wake up “ he said softly as he walked out gently closing the door behind him.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin angel dust #vivziepop #hazbin

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zombified-queer · 1 year

Note

Ive been meaning to get into the Hotel.. whats the speedrun guide? If you dont mind sharing

Anon I am kissing you on the forehead I am SO glad you asked, bestie! Please also feel free to come into my DMs and go "WHEN THE LOBBY BOY!!! AND THE MANAGER!!! AND THE OWNER!!!" so I can be like "Oh bestie I KNOW!!!"

THE HOTELPOD SPEEDRUN GUIDE FOR PEOPLE WHO HAVE BUSY LIVES

(written by Kwiyatsi, who has some form of Hotelpod Cordyceps)

SEASON 1:

really you just need the first two episodes and then owner i-iv. the rest is flavor text. jenny range HIGHLY encouraged but not needed. also noreen highly recommended but not needed for trespasses.

SEASON 2:

burger baby and cracker man are the only episodes that matter, emotionally. we love burger baby and cracker man. but they are flavor text. really just skip to echo box and then return.

SEASON 3:

look man i'm gonna be straight with you this whole season is the most "plot" it gets. if you really want to run it you should do "a guest checks in" and then jump to avoid and finish the season from there.

SEASON 4:

the only "plot" is the owner v, x-x, and judy blashy. the rest you can skip. i rec carl larpe because madam is there and so is the manager. GIRL'S NIGHT [explodes into gore]

SEASON 5:

again, this is plot-heavy but you can skip down to we are watching and listen through to The Auditor and then skip until you get to the NYE double whammy of it's new year's eve + reaper's envy.

And then you should be current! Feel free to roam through the episodes. As I understand it the Bonus episodes like "The Pets" are more soft-canon goofs than Plot Required Episodes. Also Trespasses is soft-canon? I think? But it's tasty.

#The Hotel Podcast #Anon. Bestie. Come join me. Come off Anon and into my DMs and howl #we are in this TOGETHER friendo!!!

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sugarlesswriting · 1 year

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Just a silly little thought that came to mind/ Inspired by a dream.

So in a setting where in season two of Total Drama Island(2023) where some old TDI contestants, who are now in their 30s, have to mentor one of the new contestants. If the contestant wins the old guard who taught them get a prize as well.

So now imagine Duncan mentoring Damien who is now motivated to win and at one point Damien just goes, ‘Yeah, I guess you could say I got rizz.’

Duncan, who is now not young, hip, or cool just stares at him and apathetically say, ‘You got something.’ But inwardly he’s just wondering what the fuck rizz means.

Later that night he’s texting the Adult Group Chat™️

Duncan: anyone know what the fuck rizz is?

Geoff: yeah, man, it’s that fancy hotel

Bridgette: babe, that’s the Ritz

Trent: no, the Ritz is a song

DJ: Nah, man, I’m pretty sure that’s a cracker

Courtney: oh my god! This is what google is for people! *links to urban dictionary’s definition*

After a full 2 minutes of no one replying and Trent sends a gif of a dance sequence of Putting on the Ritz.

#tdi #tdi duncan #tdi courtney #tdi geoff #tdi bridgette #tdi trent #tdi dj #I just think little scenarios like this are neat #no one come for me

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pixeldistractions · 1 month

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When Colette made it down to the kitchen, she was pleased to see homework books open and being worked on. One less thing to stress about. Dinner though. She called in an order for takeout. Colette didn’t cook. Actually, that was another thing Jordan left them to deal with on their own. As it turned out, he cooked more than she did. And even when he didn’t cook, he often brought leftovers home from the hotel kitchen or brought the boys in after school for dinner.

So much for that. But Colette wasn’t broke, and they would eat somehow.

“We can go on the train,” Milo suggested after she’d hung up the phone. “We can ride it by ourselves. You don’t even have to take us.”

“No,” Colette said. “You can’t, actually. Not until you’re ten. And I’m not sending you to live in a camper. But since you all love to go behind my back, why don’t you tell your dad to get a real place to live? He doesn’t even have electricity—did he tell you that? Could you live without all your video games for even a weekend? Just finish some of that homework. I do not want another email from your teacher. C’s are not acceptable. And I hate your hair like that, it’s too long.”

“God, Mom, chill,” Felix said. “Maybe if you weren’t so crazy all the time, Dad wouldn’t’ve left.”

She felt that one like a dagger in her gut.

Milo didn’t chime in, but he didn’t defend her honor, either.

Those boys would never know how close they’d come to seeing their beloved game console spiked through the center with the sharp heel of her pump, shattered into pieces, then scooped up in a dustpan and thrown into the bay.

But she didn’t do that, because she was a grown-up. She was the one who held everything together and cleaned up everyone else’s messes.

To hell with both of them. To hell with everything and everyone.

She closed her eyes, balled her fists so tight that her fingernails made crescent-shaped indents in her palms. “I’m having a bath,” she said. “That homework will be finished by the time I’m done or God help me, I will throw your games into fucking bay! And if you don’t think I can throw that far from here, I dare you to try me.”

There was tension in her shoulders that she needed someone to pound out. She could also use a good pounding, but she couldn’t begin to imagine how to make that happen now. Jordan had been good at giving both, once upon a time. Shame he had to fail her in absolutely every other possible way.

She had her yearly checkup that morning.

Your blood pressure is high. Are you getting any exercise? Eating fresh fruits and veggies? Making time for self-care?

Please. Her children’s father fucked off to the wilderness on a journey of enlightenment or some bullshit and excuse me, fucking self-care? Can you just get the exam over with and get me out of this paper gown?

Colette didn’t have any date to go on. She did match with a trauma surgeon on her dating app, and he did sound very successful. She had been hopeful that he could administer a good pounding, or at the very least, maybe he could help with her high blood pressure. But she didn’t have a babysitter for the boys, because their father was a flake.

The boys were asleep and their homework books were stacked by the time her bath was finished. She wasn’t going to check the homework. She knew there was no possible way Milo could complete his fifteen missing assignments in one night.

They had eaten the takeout she ordered, and she didn’t order anything for herself. She would eat rice crackers from a paper bowl.

Self-care? She cleaned a whole man out of her house, and maybe that was her self-care.

What few things he left here she threw in the trash—a toothbrush, a small pile of dirty work clothes, a pair of muddy boots. As it turned out, she never let him keep much here in the first place.

But the couch smelled like him, like orange soap and wood chips and campfire smoke. So she trashed that, too. And she bought another one. She spent a whole paycheck on it, and she framed the whole room around it. This wasn’t the kind of couch anyone would ever sleep on. The leather was cold and hard, the angles sharp, the color was an eye-searing fuchsia, and the design was exquisite. It was like a piece of art.

She bought a flamboyant vase for a very fake plant. She bought a thin bookcase for books she wouldn’t read. The room felt beautiful and hollow.

— from “boxes and squares #4.1: first fall apart” (4/5)

Next ->

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sims story #colette #milo #felix

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sugdenlovesdingle · 2 months

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Just caught up on last night's emmerdale and I'm actually loving team Eric, Rodney, and Vinny trying to expose Amit as a con-man.

Though he isn't a very good scammer because he keeps losing his shit when things don't go his way. But Jacob is plot stupid so it's ok.

(Also vinny picking up chocolate biscuits for Aaron? Rob's sweet tooth has rubbed off on him!)

Tom needs to go take a long walk off a short cliff. I knew the hotel story was bullshit. But Suzy and mandy being all dismissive when belle told them what had happened... I guess it's just plot to isolate her and make her feel like she is in the wrong... But mandy was there, she was drunk but she was there and she knows what happened to Lisa's ashes and how upset Belle was. And still she's all "is that it??" when belle says she slept in the spare room because she and tom had a row...

Also his constant whining about the dingles being too much - imagine if Rob was still there. "did you drink from the welly on your wedding day??? No. Did you spend Christmas with the whole family drinking snowballs while wearing an ugly Christmas jumper and paper hat from a cracker?? No. Does everyone just walk into your house unannounced because they're family?? No. Did you live in one house with most of them for months? No. So quit your whinging. "

#Emmerdale #robron

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instructionsnotincluded · 4 months

Text

Gorgeous - Sneak Peak (JJ Maybank x Original Female Character)

This is part of the first chapter to a new fic I'm working on, featuring a different character that is outside of Audrey's universe. I'm planning on this beginning in the lull between seasons 3 & 4 of Outer Banks, but we'll see how this develops and what actually happens in season 4. It will eventually be posted to AO3 (if we like it) but for now we can have a sneak peak on Tumblr.

Pairing: JJ Maybank X Original Female Character

Warnings: References to smut; shameless flirting; Gorgeous by Taylor Swift stuck in author's head.

Length: 2335 words

Gorgeous (working title)

The first time Scarlett spotted him was at some random wedding reception she stumbled into. There was a live band, a buffet of food, and a cash bar with a cute bartender who wasn’t checking ID. Nursing her drink, Scarlett stood somewhere between the bar and buffet, leaning against a tall table just people watching. He was tall, with a head of effortlessly messy blonde hair, but it was the broad shoulders that really caught her attention—the way his button down shirt strained when he would shift or reach for his drink made the back of her neck warm slightly. She had yet to see his face, but she kept checking back in between casual glances around the rest of the party to see if he turned.

She wound up in the OBX about a month ago. After dropping out of UCLA after one year in college, Scarlett packed her car with her dorm room items, only to pause in the parking lot outside her residence hall. She was supposed to return home, head hung, having failed her way out of college, where she’d undoubtedly be forced to work in her father’s law office filing papers the whole summer. But as she sat there, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white, Scarlett decided to drive. She hadn’t necessarily intended to drive east, but before she knew it she hopped on the 101 and found herself on interstate 40, crossing the California state line about seven hours later.

Scarlett drove until she was tired, pulling over, she dozed in her car a few hours before continuing on, eventually stopping somewhere near the Arizona/New Mexico border to rent a motel room and sleep the rest of the night and early morning. Her phone started going off in regular intervals sometime after midnight, and after confirming that all of her locations were turned off, Scarlett passed out in the motel bed and didn’t wake until her stomach demanded food.

It took another two days of straight driving to reach the Atlantic, and briefly Scarlett considered scraping enough money together to buy a one way plane ticket across the ocean and start over completely in Europe, but as she boarded the ferry for one of the islands just off the coast of North Carolina, she finally allowed herself a moment to breathe in the salty, humid air.

She was free.

“Smoked salmon, miss?”

Scarlett found herself back in the present, staring at a rather handsome young man dressed in all black. Judging by the way he eyed her, Scarlett must not look too terrible in the simple black dress she’d hauled out of her suitcase. She lifted a hand to the tray to grab a salon and cream cheese cracker and he gave her a nod before continuing on his way around the party.

“Ok—so I scoped out the buffet line and the dessert table,” Scarlett was met with the face of her only friend in North Carolina, Whitney Pool. She met Whitney on her first day working at the Island Club Hotel, Whitney was assigned as her trainer and together the girls restocked and made up all the hotel rooms on the first three floors. It wasn’t long before they were fast friends, Whitney even letting her crash on her couch until she decided what to do with her life. “They’ve got a carving station and everything—but if you wanna skip right to dessert, I’m right there with you.”

Scarlett laughed, nodding as Whitney glanced over her shoulder at the many different deserts. “Do we think the cake is real or fake?”

Scarlett looked over at the five tiered white wedding cake, the icing piled high as it towered over the rest of the deserts. “Fake,” Scarlett said as she bit into her cracker, the salmon and cream cheese mixing well together, having been to many of these types of events in her life she was well aware of the tricks, “the sheet cake’s in the back, they’ll cut one piece and then take it away.”

“Love the theatrics,” Whitney leaned forward to squeeze her forearm. “Ok, I need another glass. You want one?”

“No—I’ll switch to something else in a bit. More than one glass of champagne gives me a headache.”

“Things rich people say.”

Scarlett laughed, hiding her smile behind her glass as she sipped the champagne. The first time she had the sweet bubbly drink she was thirteen and hiding from her parents in the hotel bathroom during her grandmother’s funeral. In true WASP style, they had the reception in a massive hotel ballroom, complete with glossy portraits and a swan ice sculpture, just as her grandmother requested in her last wishes.

Scarlett and her older brother, Liam, snuck a few bottles of champagne when no one was looking and quickly found out how easy it was to get drunk on Dom Perignon. That was the night of Scarlett’s first kiss, when her brother’s friend, Seth, had kissed her sloppily against the door of the men’s room, drunken hands fumbling to touch her breasts. Scarlett didn’t remember much from that night, but she did recall throwing up all over Seth’s shoes.

Scarlett’s eyes swept the party once more, taking in the older couples swaying to the music on the dance floor, the bride and groom, happy and in love, moving from table to table greeting their guests and thanking them for attending. Scarlett made a mental note to keep far away from the two. Rule number one of wedding crashing was to stay away from the newly married couple.

Scarlett hadn’t expected anyone to notice her, no one aside from the male server had anyway, so when her eyes lifted and met those crystal clear eyes, she thought her heart stopped.

He was half turned, leaning against his own cocktail table, his gaze trained fully on her. When his eyes met her own, every thought vanished from her mind, and instead all she wanted was to drown in those blue eyes.

A slow, small, half smile lifted from the corner of his mouth as he reached for the short glass on the table in front of him, two ice cubes clinked in the glass as he took a long sip from it, draining the light colored amber liquid before he pushed himself away from the table and crossed the grassy area to greet her.

His tie seemed out of place as he smoothed it down, and it didn’t match his shoes the way someone who frequently wore ties would, and based on the way his collar sat, the buttons at the points remaining unbuttoned, told her he wasn’t used to wearing button down shirts either. Scarlett guessed it was a slim cut shirt, based on the way it fit him well around his waist, but his shoulders were too broad for it—and as she eyed the French cuff she was left with even more questions. A girlfriend had most likely purchased or recommended it, but she’d been watching him on and off all evening and had yet to see him with anyone other than a curly haired brunette, and while the boys could be a couple, they didn’t appear to act like one.

Fuck—Scarlett really hoped he liked women.

“I had the entire walk over to come up with a line,” his voice was playful and teasing, his eyes glinting as he smiled fully now, “but all I could come up with was hi.”

“Hi,” Scarlett responded with her own smile, her weight shifting from one foot to the other, “and I think that’s a decent enough line.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the bride and groom before looking back at her, “how do you know Shawn and Andy?”

“Um…” Of course they would both have those names…how was she supposed to make up a story now? “Well, I’m Andy’s second cousin…mom’s side.”

His eyes swept over her, sucking the inside of his cheek as he looked back over his shoulder once more, “that must’ve been an exciting childhood,” he said as he studied her.

“Oh—you know…” Scarlett coughed softly, “how do you know…them?”

“I used to work with Shawn,” he said, “back in high school, plus he basically invited the whole damn island.”

“Ah well…”

“I’m JJ,” he leaned his side against the table, the smile still across his face making her stomach flutter.

“Scarlett.”

“Scarlett,” she really wanted to hear him say her name again, watching as he tasted it, the way he drug the r and l together made the butterflies in her stomach go insane, “I like that.”

“Is JJ short for something?”

“Sometimes,” JJ lifted his shoulder, “nothing interesting though.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Scarlett wanted to reach up and smooth his collar down, but she forced her hands to remain on the table, “you’re from Kildare?”

“Mhmm,” JJ glanced around, taking inventory of the party and who was there, “born and raised. What about you?”

Scarlett hesitated, part of her, the part attached to the butterflies wanted to tell him the truth, but the part attached to her brain told her to deflect so she and Whitney wouldn’t get caught.

“Oh—uh…”

JJ leaned across the table, motioning her closer to him with his index finger, “you know…if you’re gonna crash, you need to keep your lies simple and not at all attached to the wedding party.”

Scarlett blushed, her face heating uncomfortably, “when’s you figure it out?”

“Oh, at the beginning,” JJ grinned at her as they both stood back up straight, “Andy’s adopted and doesn’t know her family.”

“Fuck.”

JJ only laughed at her expletive, “like I said…” he shrugged, “keep it simple. Too much and it’s not believable. So, Scarlett’s your real name?”

“It is,” she nodded, “I just got off work and my friend begged me to sneak in with her, she promised me cake if I did.”

“Cake’s worth it,” JJ said, “I’ve never seen you around though…do you live here in Kildare?”

“I just moved, actually,” Scarlett lifted her arm to scratch along her shoulder, “arrived about a month ago.”

“Ah.” He nodded, as if he’d just solved an ongoing mystery, “that’s it—I would’ve remembered you.”

Scarlett blushed again and based on JJ’s easy smile she assumed he knew it too. “You’re doing ok on the lines.”

“Good,” JJ shifted, “I’ve been out of practice, so that’s good feedback.”

Scarlett laughed and JJ reached up to scratch behind his ear, his eyes lifting as the server from earlier walked by, his eyes trained directly on Scarlett as he passed.

“I’m sensing some competition,” JJ joked lightly, but Scarlett could hear the nervousness in his voice, “friend of yours?”

“Never met him before,” Scarlett shook her head, “he’s cute, though.”

“Got the tall, dark, and handsome thing going,” JJ nodded, “you gonna play that one out or…?”

“Hmm,” Scarlett lifted a shoulder, watching the server disappear into the white tent, “maybe…do you think he looks like someone who gives good head?”

JJ choked on his spit and Scarlett smiled, sipping her drink, pleased that she’d made JJ blush. “I don’t know,” JJ coughed lightly, clearing his throat, “a toss up, probably. Young enough to know that’s what you’re lookin’ for, but the good looking ones sometimes don’t know what they’re doing.”

“So you must be downright terrible then, huh?”

JJ ran a hand over his mouth, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked across the table at her, but before he could say anything the crackling electricity between them was doused by the frantic red head running up to the table, “they have two cakes!”

Scarlett had to take a moment to take in her friend, watching Whitney set her glass on the table, “umm…”

“JJ, hey.”

“Whitney,” JJ’s eyes skimmed the area surrounding them, “is Ricky here?”

“No, you know he won’t crash with me,” Whitney rolled her eyes before looking at Scarlett, “you’ve met Scarlett?”

“Mhmm.”

“JJ is Ricky’s cousin,” Whitney explained, referring to her on again, off again hook-up. Scarlett labeled them as dating, but Whitney assured her time and time again it was just sex. But Scarlett didn’t think cuddling on the couch every Tuesday night watching movies and walking by the docks on Sunday afternoons could be considered just sex.

JJ glanced over his shoulder after hearing his name, looking over to see the brunette from before waving him over, the bride and groom beside him. “I’ll let you ladies get back to your evening,” he ducked his head before sending Scarlett a soft smile, “I’ll see you around, Scarlett.”

When JJ was across the lawn and out of ear shot, Whiteny turned her full attention to Scarlett, “did I interrupt something?”

“I’m not sure,” Scarlett finished her champagne, looking over at Whitney, “you know him?”

“He’s Ricky’s cousin, I’ve seen him from time to time. Cute—a smart ass.”

“Is he attached?”

Whitney took a lengthy sip of her refilled champagne, “he was—but I haven’t seen her around lately. Do you want me to ask Ricky?”

Scarlett shook her head, even though Whitney already had her phone out, thumbs moving frantically as she no doubt sent a text off to Ricky. “I’m going to get a refill.”

Whitney nodded and Scarlett left to wander to the bar, asking for a vodka soda with lime, watching as the server from earlier emerged from the tent, their eyes meeting a moment later. His were a dull brown, but his face was cute and his nose was promising, so Scarlett let him approach, watching as he gently slid a napkin towards her before wandering off with his tray of appetizers. Scarlett thanked the bartender before walking back to Whitney, her eyes flickering over towards the table JJ returned to, except this time she didn’t see him or his friend.

“They took their seats at the table,” Whitney sipped her drink, “finish your drink and then we’ll grab cake and bounce before the toasts begin.”

#jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #outer banks fanfiction

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buckysimp101 · 2 years

Text

Home Sweet Home

Summary: You’re on The Stadium Tour with Nikki and the Crüe, the first tour since the birth of your daughter, Maci. When she gets sick you miss out on one of the shows, the first since the tour began. As soon as the show ends, Nikki’s on his way Home Sweet Home.

current!Nikki Sixx x YN

warnings: none, it’s fluffy af

a/n: i just...i just love dad!Nikki so freaking much.

June 28, 2022

The final chords of Kickstart My Heart played through the speakers of the Bank of America stadium in Charlotte, North Carolina. Before Nikki knew it the crowd was screaming and clapping as the last song of their setlist ended and he got swooped into a final bow with the Crüe and the Nasty Habits. Normally, Nikki was all into his shows, making sure to give them his all. Tonight he just wasn’t as into the show, he didn’t interact as much, his brain was all over the place, and the reason? You and Maci weren’t there.

Nikki kept glancing to the side of the stage all night, expecting to see the two of you dancing and singing along to his songs, but he knew it wouldn’t happen. Your three year old Maci had come down with a stomach bug an hour before the show started and she couldn’t keep anything down. You made the decision to take her back to the hotel to try and let her get some sleep before the three of you traveled to Nashville the next day, hoping some crackers and water would help settle her stomach. The group took their last bow and exited the stage, everyone moving in a hurry to get Mötley’s stuff cleared so Def Leppard could take their place.

Nikki swore he couldn’t remember the last time he’d moved that fast, he almost ran into Brittany on the way to his dressing room.

“Woooooah, Sixx. Slow your roll!” Brittany gasped after almost being bulldozed after rounding the corner at the same time as the bassist. When she saw the far off look in his eyes she knew that he wasn’t paying any attention to her. She reached her hand out to touch his forearm, finally getting Nikki’s attention.

“Sorry, Britt. I gotta go, I need to see...” Nikki started before he was interrupted by Brittany speaking softly, “I know, you gotta go see your girls, I get it. Tommy will be done with his stuff pretty soon, you can catch a ride with us. Last I heard from Y/N she was getting Maci’s teeth brushed so she could lay down.”

Just the mention of your names brought Nikki’s stress down. Brittany knew what she was doing trying to relieve some of Nikki’s stress and making sure that he got back to his girls as quickly and safely as possible. Nikki nodded his head at Brittany and walked back to his dressing room to gather the things he needed to take back to the hotel, the rest would be packed by the roadies and sent to the next venue. After changing into the clothes he came to the show in and wiping the sweat from his face with a towel, he was almost ready when Tommy knocked on the door, alerting Nikki to his arrival.

“Alright, bassist. Let’s go see your girls,” the drummer said, a small sympathetic smile on his lips. Tommy knew how hard it was for Nikki to not have his family there supporting him and he knew that the man had been chomping at the bit to go back to the hotel the second Y/N left. “Hey man, luckily we weren’t on too late tonight, you’ll still have time to spend with Y/N. And maybe Maci hasn’t gone to sleep yet, she’s stayed up later than this the last couple of weeks,” Tommy reassured him, slinging an arm around Nikki’s shoulders as the group walked to their awaiting driver.

Luckily, it was a quick drive to the hotel. Once they got off the elevator, Nikki said a quick thanks to Tommy and Brittany and headed to your suite. Upon opening the suite door, Nikki noticed all the lights, except the one near the coffee maker, were off. He could see what looked like blue light from a television peaking through the crack in the bedroom door. As he walked towards the bedroom door he saw a pair of tiny, pink converse by the couch, a matching adult pair sat next to them. Maci’s toys, the few you had let her take off the bus, were strewn around the room, and a sleeve of crackers, one with tiny bite marks, sat opened on the coffee table. Nikki decided to pick up the stuff and put them away, less work for you in the morning. And as he moved your shoes to a more out of the way location, he heard your voice coming from the bedroom. Specifically, your voice singing a tune he knew very well.

My heart’s like an open book

For the whole world to read

Sometime nothing, keeps me together at the seams

Nikki crept towards the bedroom door, you must not have noticed because there you were laying in the bed with Maci asleep in your lap, your hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as you lightly crooned your husband’s lyrics to your daughter.

I’m on my way

Home Sweet Home

“One of these days I’m going to tell Vince I’ve been married to his future replacement for the last eight years,” Nikki whispered loud enough for you to hear, your head whipping around at the sound of his voice. A small smile graced your lips upon seeing your husband. Nikki approached you, making sure to walk as lightly as possible, and gave you a kiss that you leaned into with ease. “How’s she doing?” he asked against your lips, his eyes softening as they darted to Maci’s sleeping figure still situated across your lap.

“She woke up about forty five minutes ago, got sick again. So we turned on some Bluey to just have something on in the background while she went to sleep. That didn’t work, but the second I started singing Home Sweet Home? She was dozing so fast, you know it’s her favorite bedtime song.” you answered softly, making sure not to wake up your toddler.

Nikki huffed out a soft laugh before questioning, “how many times have you sang the damn thing?”

“I want to say this was the fifth time through,” you giggled in response, causing the bassist to use his hand to cover his mouth before he laughed too loud and woke up Maci. “How did the show go, baby?” you questioned, beginning to slowly adjust Maci’s body so that Nikki would have room in the king size bed after his shower, who knew three year olds took up so much space!

“It was good. The fans were great and the atmosphere was electric, sweets. But all I kept thinking about were you and Maci, Britt had to slow me down after the show, I was running on autopilot trying to get back as soon as I could!”

“Well, remind me to thank her for that. I’d rather you get back to us safe, sweetheart,” you mumbled lightly as you saw Maci’s chest rise with a deep breath as she rolled over in her sleep, “now, I need my wonderfully talented, handsome husband to go take a shower. You stink, Sixx,” you added with a teasing tone and a wrinkle of your nose.

Nikki rolled his eyes as he began taking his shirt off and grabbing a pair of sleep pants before walking towards the bathroom, not missing the low whistle you made at the sight of your husband’s tattooed back. Before closing the bathroom door, Nikki poked his head out and whispered, “you better not be asleep when I’m done, mama.”

“No promises, daddy,” you responded with a wink.

A nice hot shower was just what Nikki needed after the long day and exhausting show. He exited the bathroom, toweling off the ends of his hair and what he saw made him pause.

You were right not to make any promises. Because there you were, fast asleep next to your little girl. Nikki swore his body was performing its own reenactment of that scene in The Grinch when his heart grew three times larger. The sight of you with Maci almost always brought tears to his eyes. When you delivered her and told him that you had finally thought of her middle name and that her full name would be Maci Nicole Sixx, the man broke down in tears next to your hospital bed. You had joked, “who knew Nikki Sixx was such a softie.” Nikki peeled the cover back to slip in and wrap his girls up in his arms. He knew he made it to his Home Sweet Home.

taglist:

@youlightmeupfinn

@la-undercover-latina

@ali-r3n

@hallecarey1

@valeriiecameron

@snufflet

@leatherandheels

@chevygirl1988

@marvelsshadow

@sekhmetkingscholar

*if you’d like to be added to the Nikki Sixx taglist let me know!*

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x yn #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx x yn fic #nikki sixx x reader fic #current!nikki sixx x reader #stadium tour #Motley Crue #BuckySimp101 #dad!nikki sixx

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