#ch; Billy the kid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

belovedmusings · 7 months

Text

“You have to trust me.”

18+ Explicit Smut 🚫Minors DNI🚫

You and Satoru get into an argument before he heads off to face Sukuna. You worry for his safety since the incident of his sealing is still fresh in your mind, begging him to let the others help, but he insists he has to do it alone. Hot, emotional sex follows.

Relevant tags: AFAB reader w/minimal gendered language, reader with no defined characteristics for inclusivity and realism, angst, hurt/no comfort, before Ch 236, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary/mating press, intentional baby making

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Privilege (The Weeknd), lovely (Billie Eilish), Lo Vas Olvidar (Billie Eilish, ROSALIA)

A/N: I have a follow-up to this where he survives the fight so that you can have some comfort after this hurt. I’ll link it at the end :’) for now enjoy some angst.

Expand to read:

“Satoru, please,” your voice tapers off at the end, the ache in your heart stinging with its intensity. “Please, don’t do it alone. You can have help. Yuuta—”

“This isn’t his fight,” Satoru insists, “I don’t want to involve innocent kids in this if I can help it.”

“So you’re just gonna go off and get yourself killed instead?”

His brows furrow, eyes frozen on your face. His lips part in disbelief, and after a moment of being stunned, he laughs incredulously.

“Seriously?” He asks you, “Do you really think that lowly of me? You think I’m marching off to my death right now?! You think I’m some weak little twerp or something? That’s all I am to you?!”

As he raises his voice, you start to feel guilt rising up in your chest. You hadn’t meant to say it like that. Here he is, about to fight for the sake of the world and you’re belittling him and undermining his strength. You’re telling him you expect him to lose, even if that wasn’t your intention. You’re supposed to be his support pillar—he doesn’t just let anyone in.

The anger fizzles out of you like ice water on hot coals. Instantly, you feel cold.

“No, Satoru,” you shake your head, remorse bubbling up so violently tears spring to your eyes. This is the love of your life, the man who has been nothing but sweet, patient, and kind to you. Sure, back when things were normal, he used to tease and get on your nerves, he had to work a lot and his time was stretched thin as a result, but he always made time for you. He always thought of you, brought you your favorite treats from his missions, latched onto you when he came back because he missed you.

Apparently you started sobbing at some point while you thought about all of that, because the next thing you know, he’s wrapping his newly thickened arms around you and pulling you into his sturdy chest.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you,” his voice is subdued now, full of guilt. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice. It’s just that—”

“That’s not…” you sniffle, shaking your head as you try to find the strength to get a full sentence out in the midst of your break down. “I believe in you, Satoru, I do, I didn’t mean—didn’t mean to say that…”

He hugs you tighter, rubbing up and down your arm. You continue.

“I’m just so fucking scared, Satoru, I’m scared.”

More sobs wrack your body and he can only sigh heavily, trying to hold you as close to himself as he can.

“I don’t want to do this to you,” his voice is thin, like he’s trying hard to keep it even. “I hate that I can’t give you a normal, easy life with me.”

You huff, wrapping your arms around him. “That’s not…I wouldn’t trade what we have for the world, Satoru, for the world…”

“I just hate that this is causing you so much pain,” he replies. “I’m supposed to be taking it away, not making it worse. God, I really am the worst, aren’t I?”

You shake your head in disagreement, planting a kiss on his neck to protest his statement. His breath hitches, and the next moment, he’s raising your chin up with his index finger, ducking to connect your lips. You make a small noise in the back of your throat and kiss back, arms winding around his neck to draw him closer. You feel him hug your waist, and go willingly when he backs you up.

The backs of your legs meet the edge of his bed, the one that you’ve become so familiar with it’s more comfortable than your own at the place you rarely sleep anymore, and you realize that this might be the last chance you ever get to share it with him.

Another sob escapes you before you can stop it and you grab the collar of his shirt tightly, pulling him down with you. You fall onto the mattress, Satoru catching himself so he doesn’t crush you as he kisses you passionately.

You trail your palms down his chest, down his abdomen, over the tight black shirt he has on, then back up again just to feel him. Satoru is here right now, in your hands, on top of you—you need to cherish this while it lasts.

You break the kiss as your crying worsens, unable to stop lamenting the fact that you can’t freeze time in its place right now.

“Shh,” his sugary voice hushes you, “Shh, focus on me. I want this to feel good for you, okay? We can’t have you crying your way through it, silly, then you won’t remember a thing.”

You sniffle, trying to wipe at your eyes. “I don’t want to just r-remember you…I need you to be okay.”

“I am okay,” he says, pecking your brow bone sweetly. “I’m right here. Just feel me. Nothin’ else. Don’t even think right now, thinking’s not useful.”

You huff shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his mouth go for your neck. He scrapes his teeth over your jugular to shock pleasure into your senses, successfully distracting some of the anguish right out of you.

“That’s it,” like this, his voice sounds almost like a purr, and you shiver, arms wrapping around his shoulders to grip at his back. He leaves a wet kiss where his teeth were and swipes his tongue over the spot, starting to suckle. You give him a soft noise in response, relishing in the fact that you know he’s leaving a mark on purpose. It’ll be there at least for a few days, or more if he really tries.

“Make it dark,” you breathe, “Give me as many as you can, please.”

“You don’t have to beg me,” he murmurs below your ear, sending heat pulsing downward. “I’ll give anything you want from me.”

You suck in a sharp breath. “Anything?”

At your eager question, he chuckles lowly, lifting himself up to meet your eyes. “Hmm. You have something specific in mind, don’t you?”

Your face heats up involuntarily, but the urgency of the situation has you forcing your bashfulness down. This might be the only time to ask. You had wanted to wait until the two of you were settled, maybe married if that’s what you agreed on, but now there might not be another moment. This could be it. And you know that if you don’t tell him what you want now and something happens, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.

With that thought, you take a deep breath and raise your hand to cup his face, brushing a few strands of his fringe away from his eyes.

“I want your baby, Satoru.”

You see the moment the words register in his brain. His eyes light up with something you’ve never seen before, and he smiles as if you just gave him the sweetest, most sincere compliment he’s ever heard.

“Yeah? A piece of me forever, huh?”

You nod, a grin tugging at your lips even as droplets continue to spill down your cheeks. “Yeah. Our love personified.”

He chuckles wetly and you think you see his eyes turn glossy, but he’s kissing you again before you can confirm it.

“It’s yours,” he says against your mouth. “All yours.”

You lose yourself in the long kiss that follows. All you can feel is him moving on top of you, tongue dancing with yours so intimately it would have the angels in the room blushing.

You raise your hips when he tugs at your pants, taking your underwear with them. He sits back on his haunches to slide them off your legs, eyes gentle as he gets between them and pushes his hands up underneath your shirt.

Sitting up quickly, you allow him to lift it off of you, discarding it behind himself. Now, you’re completely naked, but he’s still clothed.

“No fair,” you say, eyeing his shirt like it’s offensive, and he laughs.

“Say no more, say no more,” he replies, “Just lay down for me.”

Your stomach flutters with butterflies as you do as he tells you, looking up at him kneeling between your legs. You watch as he crosses his arms to peel his tight shirt off of his sculpted muscles, smooth, fair skin coming into view. He’d put a Greek god to shame, you think. He’s so tear-jerkingly beautiful it threatens madness in your mind.

“Like what you see?” He taunts mischievously, standing up to untie his pants and push those along with his boxers down his hips. His reddened erection springs free and you stare unabashedly at it, never having got used to the sight fully. He’s huge, both long and thick, all smooth skin except for a prominent vein on the underside. You used to joke with him early on in your relationship that it was the main reason for his cocky attitude, that you’d probably act the same way if you had a dick like that, and it always made him laugh. You love making him laugh. God, you love Satoru so much.

“Oh, you definitely like what you see now,” he snorts, climbing back onto the bed. “Gotta admit, it’s hot as hell to see you objectify me like that.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I’m nothing but a glorified sperm donor, mistress.”

You make an incredulous face. “What? I’m not—you don’t even—”

“Shh, I’m just teasin’,” he grins at you, leaning down to peck your lips. “I know you love me.”

You blow out a puff of air like a deflating balloon. “Satoru, I swear to god.”

He chuckles, shutting himself up by kissing you again. “That’s just how I show love.”

You chase his lips, hearing his words for the ‘I love you’ they truly are, threading your hands in his hair.

His big palms find your hips and he centers them for himself, lining up and grinding his stiff member against your wet core.

“Mmh,” you moan, moving with him, “Satoru…”

He sighs shakily, grabbing the crook of your knee to push it up, giving himself more room to move. His grinds become more forceful and it has you stuttering little gasps, nails digging into his back.

“Already scratchin’ me up?” He asks, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “But I haven’t even put it in yet.”

The laugh you reply with is half-assed, need distracting you, and you find his eyes. “What’s stopping you?”

“Oh? Someone’s impatient,” he chuckles, stamping a kiss to your nose. “All right, all right. Better give you what you want.”

He takes ahold of himself and lines up, breathing a heavy sigh as he sinks into you. As soon as he does, you make a noise in the back of your throat, hugging him closer to you. As he bottoms out, you can’t help but press more chaste kisses wherever you can on him—his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. You just love him. You love the feeling of his body on top of yours, the warm weight unique to him, how he fills your arms up, tangible and strong. You breathe in deeply, the sweet musk of his skin filling your senses. It’s your favorite scent in the entire world.

He pulls back and rocks forward again slowly, taking care to get you used to his size. So much has happened lately that you haven’t been able to get intimate a lot, so you have to let him ease you back into it.

As he works you open on his cock slowly, you take to caressing the smooth skin of his back, eyes closed to revel in the sound of his heavy breaths, strained with the effort to control his movements so as not to hurt you. You love how solid he is under your palms. You could touch him forever. If he survives this fight, you swear that you’ll never let go of him again. You plead mentally with any deity that may hear you to protect Satoru.

You kiss the soft underside of his chin and hold him closer, holding onto that thought. Protect him. Keep him safe. Keep him alive. I love this man so much, just please don’t take him away from me.

He chooses that moment to start picking up the pace, the dull ache it gives you enough to thankfully keep you from spiraling further. You sigh, bending your knees further to give him more room. Your legs then wrap around him, ankles crossing at the base of his spine, and he responds by going faster. The room begins to fill with the sound of your bodies meeting over and over, his length molding you to his shape with every push of his hips into yours.

On a particularly hard thrust, you gasp, tightening around him, and it causes him to groan right after you. His voice is so sweet. It was one of the things that stood out to you about him when you had first met him—the way he always seemed to have perfect control over it. He speaks with ebbs and flows to contour the meanings of his words, to give them his special nuance that perfectly colors in his personality. He’s just so animated when he speaks. If he’s annoyed, you’ll hear it. If he’s playful, you’ll hear it. If he’s happy, you’ll hear it.

Right now, as he works through stuttered breaths and hitched moans, delivered exhales of your name weaved into declarations of his bliss, you hear the pleasure you’re giving him. That control starts to slip and words start tumbling from his lips, voice thin and shaky, a tone reserved just for you.

You turn your head to lay a kiss on his lips, landing on the corner of his mouth, but he understands what you need, sweeping you into a languid, passionate make out session as he rocks in and out of you. You hear him make a sort of wet noise before he doubles down on his efforts, pushing deep inside of you and starting to roll his body.

“Satoru,” you hiss in surprise, mouth falling open as his abdomen grinds against the sensitive bud above the place he’s buried inside of, heightening the goosebumps that break out on your skin. Your head falls back and he takes the opportunity to start making as many marks on your skin as he can with his mouth. Like this, you feel yourself getting close, and that has you remembering what comes after this.

He’s going to leave, and he might not come back.

This might be the last time you ever get to have him.

“I love you,” you say, just needing to get the words out, needing him to know. “You’re so important to me—thank you for everything, Satoru.”

His breath catches in his throat and he finds your gaze, reaching up to cup your jaw in his palm.

“Thank you for everything,” He replies sincerely. “Thank you for loving me. For dealing with all my bullshit and sticking by me.”

“Always,” you shake your head, eyes filling with new tears. You sniffle, feeling that choked desperation start seizing your chest again. “Always, Satoru.”

He smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Those beautiful luminescent oceans only reflect the deep sadness the both of you feel, and to see it glaringly obvious in his gaze breaks your heart. He can’t fake his happiness this time, not even for you. He’s human too, and being here with you like this in what might be the last time threatens to undo him.

Satoru swallows thickly and concentrates on his movements to distract himself, forcing himself to focus on the noises you make as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. He wants this to last forever just like you do, but you both know he’s needed by more people than just you.

Your climax approaches and with it, your emotions swell up inside of you. You remember meeting him for the first time, you remember when he started pursuing you, how happy he was when you agreed to a date, how hard he’d tried to win you over yet how effortless he made it look. Every time you two shared a laugh, every time he was there while you cried, how he always managed to put a smile back on your face. How sweet of a man he is to his students, how proud you can tell he is whenever he talks about them, and how his eyes light up whenever he eats a treat he’s fond of. God, you just love him.

“Satoru,” you whimper, orgasm hitting you abruptly. “Oh god, I love you so much.”

He exhales forcefully as he feels it, managing a few sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming as well pushing as deep as he can go in effort to fulfill your earlier request.

As you start to come down, the fear and despair come back tenfold, overtaking you in a fit of sobs. He wraps his arms around you and buries his nose in your hair.

“I’ll win,” He whispers to you, “I will. I’ll come back and we’ll raise the little shit we just made together, okay? They’ll probably grow up like me but I hope they’re more like you, baby.”

You hiccup loudly as you cry harder, clinging to the image of a happy family with him for dear life.

“It’s gonna be okay. You have to trust me,” He insists, inhaling slowly. “I have to go now.”

You hold him tighter, squeezing your eyes shut to commit this to memory before he’s pulling away, lifting himself off of you and grabbing his clothes quickly.

He dresses in silence, your cries the only thing echoing around the room. All you can manage to do is put on one of his button-ups from the foot of his bed, wiping furiously at your eyes.

Too soon, he’s clothed again, and it’s time for him to go.

He walks over to you again and takes your chin gently in his hand, tilting it up so that your eyes connect. He smiles softly at you.

“You know that I love you, right?”

A deep ache seats into your chest. He’s said it in a million ways before but never in its original form, those simple, crater-heavy three words. You nod, sniffling as another wave of lament threatens to pull you under.

“I do,” you confirm, forcing it out in a strained voice. He nods to himself, leaning in and pressing his soft lips to your forehead.

You feel the moment that he uses his technique to flash himself out of the room, because his warm presence that naturally takes up a lot of space vanishes and leaves absolutely everything feeling cold and sterile.

You break down again, head falling into your hands.

Shoko had told you where everyone would be watching the fight take place. You want to be there, and you will go, but you need to be alone first.

You just hope with all of your might that you won’t be left alone with only a piece of him to succeed his legacy. You want him to be there too. You need him to be there.

You need him to be okay.

—-

A/N: i gave myself an ouchie on the heart while writing this. whoops. also wow is he gorgeous in that picture at the top?? anyways here’s the second part where he survives bc i should be gege instead so he’ll be okay :-)

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo headcanons #gojo imagine #gojo smut #gojo x reader

686 notes · View notes

sy-on-boy · 2 months

Text

My 2 cents on the plot / thematic relevance of Ch 95

This is not about advancing Plot B or showing Anya's school life (which is still true but has been discussed), but rather the overall theme of education and war. There was an excellent post about how Eden is at the frontline of the cold war and it is subtly shown through the innocent lens of the first graders (I can't find it now, would link it if I could). And I think that perfectly applies to Ch 95.

Quick recap on some references about education/students/war throughout the series (that I remember at the moment):

Sylvia gravely condemning the Berlint University Student Terrorists during the Doggy Crisis arc (Ch 20) and saying "did you learn nothing about war at your university?"

Henderson talking about his experience as a history teacher (Ch 27.5, Short Mission 4) and quote: "Yes, well, I have always maintained that there is nothing to be learned from the memorization of time lines. From the grand efforts with which our forefathers crafted society to the foolish notions that sent them racing to war, to not study the human element at history's root is to not understand history at all"

Note that Damian's best subject has been established to be history, and his family (father) has been involved in war, at least Donovan was PM during most of the war (established by Melinda in Ch 91). Donovan is also a graduated Imperial Scholar (Ch 64).

The Red Circus group started out as a peaceful student demonstration "advocating for peace and quality" (Ch 72) and "speaking out to protect the weakest members of our society". And Billy Squire said, "We were a respectable movement that fought for our cause with respectable means. It was the state that turned violent against us. So I'm not taking criticism from a member of the establishment (referring to Henderson, an educator). I'm gonna see to it that they reap what they've sown." Billy's daughter Biddy was killed by the state at a protest.

Less of a point, but Becky is the daughter of the CEO of a major military manufacturer. Despite their very likely involvement in military conflicts because they sell arms, the Blackbell cohort has been depicted positively so far: Becky being a kind, wonderful friend to Anya, Becky's father doting on her, and Martha again being kind and dignified (and also being an ex-soldier and acquainted with Henderson).

Eden Academy is a major setting for SxF and the themes of politics, education, and war are embedded in it. The students involved in protests/groups are older (the university students, Billy's daughter), but the political implications remain even among the youngest of the students— the first graders.

Hence, Ch 95. When mere first graders are shown to fight to gain connections, which can be political as pointed out by Henderson: "In the world of politics, dances serve as major social events". But of course, they are kids, so they see it more playfully and innocently, especially Becky with her shipper lens on.

Of course, there is also the aspect of getting to know other people better out of interest (the boys asking Anya and Becky to dance because they were impressed after the bus hijacking). But as people have mentioned, nobody mentions this to Damian despite him being equally involved in saving the class (all three of them got a star). The girls aren't interested in Damian as a person, they're interested in him as an asset because of his family and their power.

And I can see the teachers trying to diffuse the tension and create camaraderie with their friendly competition. To me, this reads as the teachers fully realizing "the battlefield of political maneuvering", and they want to remind the kids to have fun, to show good sportsmanship, to unite the kids, to operate as a class and be friendly with one another, and overall make it more lighthearted. It's nice to see the classes work together and get excited / win as a unit, especially compared to the more "individual" bits of fighting for a dance partner later.

We get a bit of comparison between Bill and Damian, with Bill showing good sportsmanship while Damian scoffs at him. But Damian ends up becoming ultra competitive and telling his classmates to not screw it up.

Like the Dodgeball chapter, Damian is clumsily attempting to lead the class by doing good in his quiz, while getting stressed and yelling at his peers when they don't succeed like he did. So he's not really a good leader. Like how him being good at history does not necessarily mean he is good at being peaceful (Short Mission 4 ends with Henderson staring in exasperation at Damian + Anya bickering with each other). But obviously, he is merely a child, and he is naturally immature.

At first Loid is all for advancing Plan B and analysed Anya's suitors in a rational (reductionist?) way by ranking them in terms of gaining intelligence, but he remembers this is just a dance, Anya is a kid, and she should do whatever she wants. Loid (and the adults) are very aware of the political side of the gala, but ultimately they want the kids to have fun and not worry / worry less about politics.

Because they're kids! They'll grow up and learn more and be politically active later, but right now, they're just kids. Kids who don't know much about the world but are eager to make the world a better place.

In the end, we get a panel of Anya and Loid "teaming up" to win Damian's hand for Plan B / world peace. The Damian-Anya dynamic is cushioned with the silly crushy feelings, but underneath it, Operation Strix continues to be a core motivation.

I find it interesting that Endo chooses to focus on the first graders and their innocent view of the world / politics. It's embedded everywhere and especially in a prominent school like Eden, but the kids don't really realise it / realise the severity of it. Heirs and heiresses are educated at Eden and grow up to have incredible influence and the power to shape the world. Our protagonist's best friend comes from a family that manufactures arms. Henderson mentions the importance of learning history to avoid making the same mistakes (ie. war).

So Ch 95 is a cute prom chapter. But I think it also helps to show the themes underneath the fun, bubbly interactions.

#spy x family spoilers #spy x family #spy x family manga #sxf analysis #meta #idk #what do i tag #long post

209 notes · View notes

a5rora · 4 months

Text

❤️‍🔥 | Old Flames

billy the kid x rich f!reader

word count; 2k words || dividers by @firefly-graphics

ch. 𝐈𝐈

SYPNOSIS༄In Billy’s lonesome world, comes along his significant former lover from his adolescence that he faces once again after being separated from one another. After not being with you for over a decade, he doesn’t know how to face you when he has begun a life of crime, a wanted man with many enemies. He doesn’t want to lose his lover once more, but could she ever love him along with all his flaws? Will their love prevail despite the reputation of Billy the kid?

content warning: FLUFF, angst, eventual SMUT, violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of memory loss, substance abuse¿, ollinger, mentions of alcoholism, flashbacks intended, smoking, mentions of catholicism, storytelling is inspired by the original show’s major elements/events. (billy’s birth name is henry mccarty)

Suspense collectively consumed each man in the room when the game of poker finally reached the showdown. Each remaining player placed their hands one by one until the last turn to reveal his cards was Billy. All attention was on Billy the kid.

The men watched closely with anticipation as Billy slowly placed his cards to reveal a winning hand of royal flush. The players made distinctive reactions of defeat in response to their losses.

Billy was known to be a lucky gambler among his peers but no matter how good he was, he only gambled occasionally.

He grabbed his winnings off of the table and quickly prepared to leave for another drink.

The night was the same as always. It became a habit for Billy to drink his thoughts away. It felt like his sober mind couldn’t bare the worries of the growing rivalry between Tunstall’s and Murphy’s businesses. In a room with so much liveliness, his loneliness gnawed in his chest. Billy felt lonelier, noticing his friendship with Jesse become more distant since the beginning of their time working for Murphy…

Until he saw you.

Billy couldn’t believe his eyes the moment they landed on you, there you stood metres away from the gambling den.

The lovely sleeveless silk dress you wore fit perfectly on your body, hugging the curves of your figure.

A crafted corset that matched the hues of your skirt and floral lace brushing over your smooth shoulders. His focused gaze fell upon your face and the sentiments of adulation in his soul grew for you.

It was like he fell in love with you once more.

The tempo of his heartbeat rose along with the temperature of his cheeks when he saw your smile. Billy pushed away the feelings of discomfort when he noticed Jesse beside you, clearly being friendly with you.

He slightly turned away, trying to distract himself from the current thoughts invading his mind. Billy reminded himself of the time you had spent together, growing up with each other before your individual circumstances separated you from one another. The little rebels that you once were. He remembered when you both made it a habit to venture into the wild despite the countless warnings that your parents had given you.

A particular moment stuck out to him…

The bright sunshine in the afternoon transitioned into a faint evening. It was soon that your parents would notice that you travelled farther that you both should have.

“Henry!” y/n called out from the trees. But the boy stood still, watching the thieves above the hill as they ambush the farmers who stood their ground by the stables. He was dangerously close to the hill, a clear witness to the petty crime.

“Please Henry, come here now!” y/n pleads once more, startling the boy and bringing him out of his trance. His azure eyes find hers, he begins rushing into the forest.

You took his hand as he got closer and pulled him towards you. You sat down on your knees beneath the fremont trees and gestured for him to sit down beside you.

You looked to him, his gaze focused straight into space. Bringing your hand to his cheek, you turn his face towards you and wipe the teardrops from his sad, doe eyes.

You bring his forehead to yours and he takes your hands in his. “It’ll be okay Henry, I promise.”

Ever since that occurence, you had an unspoken devotion of loyalty for one another.

Before his immigrant family moved away, you and Billy made a promise to find each other again in this lifetime. But over time, his faith and hope diminished slowly after he lost you along with the latter of his loved ones.

Now here you were, walking and smiling before his eyes. Before this moment, his life seemed to be nothing but desperate and lonely. However, being in your presence made him feel like the hope that he had lost long ago returned to his heart. Billy’s mind was piqued by the irresistible urge to be near you, to meet you and seek refuge in your comfort.

But his present reality prevented him from fulfilling his wish of coming up to you. The aching feeling grew in his heart and flooded his soul. He felt guilty from the betrayal of his promise to you while you stood there, oblivious and looking so beautiful.

Laughter and chatter repeated throughout the entire saloon as you followed your friend Jessie who accompanied you to the bar, “How does it feel to be free y/n?” the blonde smiles at you which you return.

You exhaled and leaned your elbows on the bar counter behind you, “Feels amazin’- Girl like me can only dream of being this free forever.” A genuine sigh left your mouth, in contrast to your previously bright and bubbly mood a few minutes ago.

Your friend frowns slightly at you out of sympathy. The fading conversation between you and Jessie was interrupted by a tall cowboy who entered from the other room.

He towered over you both and you take notice of his wavy brunette hair as he lowers his head to take off his hat.

When he straightened himself, your eyes met with his familiar blue pair. His intense gaze trapped the air in your lungs and you swallowed, trying to remind yourself of the confidence you walked into this bar with.

You were proud of yourself for not getting caught sneaking out from your balcony tonight compared to your weekend night two weeks ago.

At the time of the incident, you didn’t have the best luck when you were sneaking past the gate doors. Your brother having caught you just after you managed to pass by the gate entrance.

Luckily tonight, you were here to have fun. You promised not to be bounded by the standards of your status.

You wanted to celebrate your newfound freedom and feel comfortable in your appearance.

The brunette did not hesitate with his wandering gaze over your body. As much as he wanted to, he wanted to upkeep his appearance as a gentleman towards you of course.

Jessie wrapped his arm towards his friend and brings him closer to you. “This is my good friend William.” you tilted your head, confused by the feelings that consumed you when your eyes met and every moment leading up to this one. You had seen him before but you were unsure why and how he was so familiar to you.

“Names’ Y/n, Y/f/n.” you introduced, your mouth couldn’t help but to return his handsome smile.

Your heart fluttered and so did your lashes when you looked up in his eyes. You shared a moment of awe towards each other, you were lost in his captivating blue eyes.

Jesse stood awkwardly between you two, “Y’all know each other or sumn?” Feeling uncomfortable from the silence that your moment with Billy distracted you from. You shook your head no to answer his question.

Billy looked away and placed his hat back onto his head. “No, but sure would’ve been nice to know such a pretty girl like you.” You pressed your lips to a smile, feeling your heart sieze from his words.

“Luckily you’ve got lots of time to get to know me William.”

“Y’can call me Billy.” He offered. Billy’s usual cold and inscrutable demeanour was swept away when it came to you. A tender smile appearing across his face. “I’ll take you up on that cariña.”

“Well, I’ll leave ya two lovebirds to mingle.” Jessie chuckles, taking a sip of his drink before going in the direction Billy came from.

“So where’d you come from?” He quickly asks you before ordering a drink for himself. His own curiosity getting to him. He needed to know for sure that it was you, not necessarily in the right mind to feed into the thoughts that swarmed his head. It was only your answer that could give him the clarity that he was searching for.

“Damn Billy,” you giggled, “buy the girl a drink first.” You teased, nudging his arm and he grins.

“Hmm, well my family’s from New Mexico originally but we moved to New York for a bit where my daddy started a coal business back there.” You started and leaned your back against the counter, noticing Billy’s concentration on you and what you had say. You felt his sincere reverence towards you and his character seemed unlike most men- If not every man that you usually meet in the towns you had stayed in previously.

You exhaled, “Then we moved from town to town quite a bit to grow our business.” He nodded, his continued fixation on you starting to make you feel slightly nervous from how he acted towards you. “My brother and I are just followin’ my old man to take care of him wherever he goes and wherever the business takes us.” You exhaled before continuing. “Took us to here now, in Lincoln.” You explained, swirling the drink in your hand before finishing the rest of it.

“I see.” He finishes his drink before asking, “You like it here?”

You played with the cup in your hands. “I think so. I’m just startin’ to like it a lot more.” you flirt with a smile and his lips beam with shyness.

“Would you like another?” He points to your glass in your hands.

You grinned, “How could I turn down a drink from you?”

He smiles at you, ordering your drink for you like a gentleman. He grabs your drinks from the bartender, gesturing you to a seat beside him. You sit down on the barstool, Billy pushes your glass closer to you and you take it. “What about you, Billy?” You look to him beside you, swallowing his drink before clearing his throat.

“What’d you like to know?” He gazed at you with an inscrutable expression.

You bit your bottom lip, “Where are you from then?”

Your question didn’t come as a surprise but it still made his heart ache to know that you didn’t remember.

You didn’t recognize him. Which meant you didn’t remember the time you had spent together in your early adolescence. He tried to hold onto his hope but he had himself to blame for not reminding you of those memories sooner.

He drove away the doubts in his mind and turned to you. “My family immigrated from Ireland way back.” He answered shortly, in contrast to the plentiful conversation you gave him and you frown.

“What do you do? You a cowboy too?” You ask out of curiosity. But before he could reply, Jesse storms out of the saloon, he pushes the doors that start swinging hard and bang hard against the walls. The hinges squeak from the impact. “I’ll be right back.” Billy says to you before following after his friend outside the bar. You nod and let out a quiet sigh as you watched him disappear into the darkness.

“Hey beautiful, did Billy leave ya on your own?” A man said from behind you, making you flinch.

The man was Bob Ollinger. You turn to face him completely and you smelled a swift of liquor from his mouth. You tilt your head at the drunk man, “Y’know anything about what’s happening outside?” He looks at you for a moment, Ollinger seemed like he was still trying to comprehend your words. That was all you needed to confirm that he is way too drunk. You blinked repeatedly for a second before your eyes settle to the ground.

Ollinger ignores your question, “C’mon with me. I wouldn’t leave you here just by yourself.”

It didn’t matter anymore what little friendship you developed with the guy, you didn’t want to be disrespected due to his intoxication. “Best you go somewhere else Ollinger.” You drank the last of the alcohol in your glass as he stands there dumbfounded.

“Y’gettin smart on me girl, that it?” He challenged with a sour tone in his growl.

“You can go on your way to bother another poor woman with your vices.” You spat, earning chuckles from the men and women around you.

“Don’t be a fucking tease you little bitch.” There went the last bit of respect you had for him, along with your unrequited friendship. Ollinger definitely did not see you as your friend and to your trepidation, he grabs your arm and pulls you off your seat.

You wince from his hurtful grip, “Fuck off!” Tears starting to pool in your eyes and blur the corners of your vision. You came to the realization that no reaction or intervention would ever come from anybody that watched you struggle.

You scream as Billy abruptly strikes a punch across Ollinger’s face, his body falling to the floor on impact. You could see the blood immediately coming out of his nose when Ollinger picks himself up from the ground. A dark smirk appears across his face. “Sorry didn’t know she was your whore.” You watched in horror as Billy punches him once more. The two drunk men proceeded to attack one another with punches while you shouted for Billy to stop.

Ollinger’s words made your chest twinge in pain. You didn’t want to be just one of Billy’s sluts, although you reckon that they probably enjoyed it.

You tried your best to remember why he looked so familiar.

But what stuck out to you was the longing feeling in your chest of being in his presence and more.

However, that’s when you remember where you recognize Billy from. The same poster you saw prior to meeting Billy tonight was plastered along the pillar that stood next to the saloon doors.

A wanted poster for the outlaw, Billy the kid.

thank you for reading <33 this is my first fic on tumblr

im also taking requests for any billy drabbles & oneshots ;)

this will be a short series, follow for pt2! it’s currently in the drafts and ill make sure to post it before finals lolol pls reblog it means a lot <3

#william bonney #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney #billy bonney x reader #billy antrim #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid x you #fanfic #tom blyth smut #billy the kid smut #tom blyth x you #billy the kid gif #billy the kid fic #tom blyth icons #tom blyth gif #billy the kid #billy the kid fluff

277 notes · View notes

gg-pedro · 4 months

Text

can you hear the music (ch. 1) - joel miller x reader

masterlist

even here, at the end of all things, some things persisted. one thing in particular, throughout all the places you had been. music.

summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano and find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, platonic!ellie x reader, implied age gap, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, they kiss lolz, smut to come, pining, feelings.

words: 1.8k

a/n: a little sweet, a little bitter, a little self indulgent. I'm planning on this being a series! I hope you enjoy. warning tags only apply to this chapter.

Two knocks. Three. More knocking, hushed squabbling from outside your door. You got up from your seat at the kitchen table, a piling mess of sheet music and scribbled notes.

Opening the door revealed your newest student, Ellie, looking very much like Joel was leading her to the gallows with that scowl on her face.

“Can we just get this over with? I’m fucking hungry.” Ellie pushed past you, shrugging off her coat and kicking off her boots.

“I’m sorry… ‘bout her. She likes doin’ this, I swear. Always comes back talking about it. Just give her some time to warm up to you.”

Joel had this particular look on his face whenever he talked about that little girl. His dark eyes would soften and he’d push a hand through his graying hair, his thoughts seeming like they were somewhere else entirely from his surroundings. The most he ever said to you was about Ellie. Everything you knew about Joel was from Ellie, naturally.

He was from Texas. He was fairly older than you– you didn’t have much experience from when it was before the end of the fucking world. He sounded tightly wound. He could play the guitar, and he’d taught Ellie a few things. Once, she’d said that he only liked piano music if Billy Joel was playing it, whoever that was. That made you laugh.

You gave him a thin smile, crossing your arms over your chest to ward off the draft that was blowing through the open door. “I know. She’s a great kid, I can tell she wants to learn. I think it helps her– you know, keeping busy.”

Joel met your eyes for the first time since the conversation had started, something painful and poignant seeping into his expression.

“Yeah. I think so.” He was quiet for a few seconds before looking straight over you to grab Ellie’s attention. “I’ll be back in an hour. I’m down the street helpin’ Tommy with that old building. Be good,” he warned, before giving you a grateful nod and turning back.

And that was your routine. Joel was usually short with you, a little quiet, a little shy. You thought he was a sweet man– and a painfully attractive one at that. All southern and rough, broad shouldered, puppy-dog eyed. He seemed like he would do anything to keep that girl safe. You were glad the community had someone like him.

You had started teaching Ellie a few weeks after they had settled into Jackson. It was mostly because of Maria’s recommendation, who you were fairly close with. Ellie had hated taking lessons from you more vehemently in the beginning, but the more you worked at it, the more comfortable you saw her get.

“Come on, kid. This is good for your brain,” you would say, beckoning her to sit next to you on the piano bench.

She scoffed, but yet she obliged. “This is dumb. I could be doing something useful. Like shooting guns.”

“Art is as important, Ellie. More important than shooting guns. For you, anyway."

Her fingers tapped gingerly on the keys and she played a scale they had learned the week before. “How would you know? You aren’t even old,” she countered. “How long have you been playing?”

You glanced over at the clock. You two were wasting time, but at least she was talking. “My whole life, give or take. I tried to hold onto it whenever I could. It was my favorite thing in the entire world.”

She nodded, seeming to understand. “That’s cool. I get why Joel likes you.”

You didn’t think Joel was someone who particularly liked you. He didn’t dislike you, clearly, but if he had given any hints, they had been falling on deaf ears. You tried your best to keep your expression neutral. “And why’s that?”

She giggled to herself as she flipped through the pages of her sheet music booklet. “‘Cause you’re both fucking weird.”

You laughed too, punching her gently in the arm. “Fair. Now stop stalling and play me whatever you remember.”

Life was special nowadays. More precious than it ever had been. You would have to cherish moments like these. Loss was all around, and loving always risked the hurt. You were really, really fucking tired of hurting.

Walking back to your home, trudging through the snow, you were tired. Working in Jackson’s small clinic was easy enough, but it was draining. You saw to children mainly, bandaging up wounds and dosing out rations of antibiotics when needed. The kids liked you, the parents liked you, and that was rewarding, but plastering on a smile and a light-hearted tone all day sometimes felt like too fucking much.

So naturally, you were ready to pick a fight when you felt a broad hand consume your shoulder.

You turned around to match the disembodied hand to a face, only to see Joel Miller. He looked tired, more tired than you, and a little sad.

“Sorry, I wasn’t tryin’ to scare you. I saw you, and I…” He paused, looking down at the two sets of footprints that had outlined both of your paths. “Ellie isn’t feeling well. I think it’s best she skips y’alls lesson tomorrow.”

She released the breath she'd been holding. For some reason, he had the tendency to precede the things he said as if he was about to tell you that the world was ending. Again.

“That’s fine, don’t worry about it. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, she’s alright. This whole things a big fuckin’ adjustment, and I… I worry she’ll push herself too much if nobody stops her,” he explained. “She’s been with Maria all day. But yeah, she’ll be okay.”

Ah. He was worried about her. It seemed like he was always worrying about her. “I understand. Can’t imagine what it must be like for her. And you.”

She’ll push herself if nobody stops her. Who stopped Joel? Who looked out for him? His brother, surely, but was it like that? Did those two, hardened and stretched thin, have the time to be concerned about things like that? How long had he just been… going?

You reached a hand out to touch his upper arm, rubbing it a little before pulling away. “You’re a good man, Joel. I really think that, and I hope you know it.”

He laughed a little at that. “I haven't done any good, trust me on that.”

You dropped your gaze and looked away. You knew that everyone here, without a shadow of a doubt, had done things they weren’t proud of. Things they never would’ve done if not at the end of the world.

You were maybe 20 steps from your front door, standing out in the Wyoming cold with him. You tried to meet his eyes before speaking again, but he wouldn’t face you.

“Come in. Please, I insist. Warm up, I just traded for coffee.”

He looked like he was fighting with himself for a few seconds, raising his head and looking off to the side. “Yeah, alright. Why not.”

Joel Miller was sitting in your living room, sipping from a mug so carefully that you’d think he was afraid he’d break it. The fire was lit and casting warm shadows across the dim room. It was endearing. You hadn’t felt like this in a lifetime.

“I couldn’t do it. What you do. Dealing with all those kids,” he said after a long lapse of quiet.

You shrugged, sipping on your own cup. “I love it. I never thought I’d have the chance to play music again, much less teach. It’s not perfect, but it's something,” you said. “Ellie tells me you play guitar.”

Joel rolled his eyes and finally sunk back into his chair instead of hunching over. He groaned a little as he did it, as if he stored all of his tension in his back. “Yeah, used to. I ain’t good at it anymore.”

“But you used to be?” You pried.

He finally looked at you, his eyes infinitely more dark in this light. “Maybe. Don’t think I’d be able to forget how to play even if I tried, so might as well put it to some use.”

You smiled. “I know. Funny how things stick with you. Muscle memory.”

He nodded. “Somethin’ like that.”

And it was true. There were lots of things neither of you would forget how to do, no matter how much time had lapsed in between the before and the now. And sure, most of what you had learned happened after the world had ended, but that was irrelevant. The most important things had always been there. You’d known how to love for your entire life.

His eyes wandered over to the old upright piano situated on the wall in the living room. “Is she any good on that thing?” He asked.

You thought about Ellie, who would curse everytime she slipped on a scale, who would argue fervently about how that squiggly shit on the sheet music could possibly mean anything, who learned faster than any of your other kids.

“She is. She’s impressive. She picked up Old McDonald Had a Farm like that.” You grinned, snapping your fingers for effect.

He smiled thinly, his mind clearly somewhere else. “Explains why she won’t stop humming that shit. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“My pleasure, Joel.” You laughed. “You finished with that?” You gestured to his empty mug.

“Yeah. Hey, I’ll help you.”

You were elbow to elbow with each other at the sink, cleaning out the liquid and the scattered coffee grounds from the bottoms of your respective cups. Joel took yours and placed it on the drying rack, wiping his hands off with the towel you passed to him.

You leaned back against the island as he turned his back to the sink. He was so tall, so rugged, so handsome. His age only added to it. He had a softness around his eyes now, his features slightly obscured by the absence of much light.

“Should probably take off… Thank you. For the drink,” Joel began.

“Don’t thank me, I’d do it anytime. Tell Ellie that I hope she’s feeling better soon.”

He nodded, and he swallowed. He wasn’t making any moves to leave, save for his eyes on the door. They flicked back to you, watching you, scanning you up and down until he finally said,

“You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart, lookin’ at me like that.”

You weren’t really sure of how it all happened, but in an instant your bodies were pressed together with your lower back digging into the dull edge of the island counter, Joel’s lips pressed to yours like he was seeking oxygen.

His free hand felt up your body, and your skin was on fire. A match thrown onto a pool of gasoline. Everything was electric. He kissed you like he’d learned it in another life, back when love was free, when forever was a tangible thing, when strings weren’t attached. You felt it all on your lips and tongue, in the bonfire that was being fanned in your abdomen.

When he stepped back, you pulled him in for more. The opposite reaction to the Earth pulling down on you is you pulling the Earth back up. You tangled your hands in his soft hair, and his dug into the fabric of your jeans on your hips.

You both came up for air after a while, having migrated to the entrance of the kitchen. He had you backed up against the beam of the open doorway, tucking both sides of your hair behind you ear to see your face.

"Shouldn't be doing this," he mumbled, nipping at the warm skin on your neck.

"Maybe not," you conceded. I didn't mean you couldn't want it– what he could give you. You'd all done wrong things. "You could still stay."

"Yeah," he responded, pressing his body against yours and sweeping a hand over to cradle your lower back. "Still could."

Maybe it wasn't a lie. Maybe that glassy, far off look wouldn't be permanent. It could be like this. You could have a reason.

And yeah, maybe Joel knew more than he let on. Some things never really left him.

291 notes · View notes

jd07201990 · 3 months

Text

“Oh, come on Chuck! This’ll be my second time! You can’t keep forcing me to work another 40 years, just to make it to retirement and do it all again! It’s not yours or my fault that there aren’t enough young folk to take over our jobs! Hell, maybe if we paid a bit more, the few of them out there would apply!”

“It’s Lieutenant Roth, Billy. Now go change out of that equipment and take a shower. Whatever this remote does to strip away all those years, it sure does leave a young man ripe!”

“Don’t call me Billy! I haven’t been Billy in 30 years! Its Bill Damn it! And how am I supposed to explain this, again! to David?! You know he’s not into, well… this!”

“Put your shirt down Billy and quit your complaining. We’re doing something different this time, changing things up, trying something new. See, we couldn’t afford to pay higher wages all these years, because we’ve been stashing extra money away, for a new program. This remote can do a lot more than just wipe away years, Billy. The company has a whole app-store full of features, but they cost a hell of a lot. We only had enough for 2 new features, and we think it’ll really help solve this town’s aging population issue.”

“Wha… what the hell are you saying? What do you mean, something new?! Chuck, dude… you’re seriously starting to crack! What the fuck does any of this have to do with David?! And who is, “We”?!”

“I’m only going to tell you this once, son. It’s Lieutenant Roth. Now, I guess there’s no beating around the bush with you young-bloods. So I’ll get right to it. “We” is me, the Governor, and the Town Board. We investigated every possible fix, and it comes down to this. All the youth are moving out in droves, going to college, or fleeing to the city for excitement, leaving us aging folk to do the hard work around town. With the remote able to take years off a person, we’ve decided that all our current retirees, in every department, will be regressed, and the new feature we purchased will ensure you all follow your new, youthful instincts, providing us with a full generational bump in population.

You will be the hot-blooded virile stud you were way back in the day; you remember? Except this time, just as David isn’t attracted to this prime of your life look, YOU won’t be attracted to David, or any man for that matter. You see, we need all the help we can get, so with this little app, you’ll be chasing pretty women, and will certainly end up settling down, once one of them catches. Ah, by the look on your face, you know exactly what I mean.

Good, because you and the rest of the retirees are going to have your hands full, working these jobs getting paid just enough for a double-wide and a truck, leaving a trail of gals before you settle in with one, and have a whole mess of kids. "

“Ch… Lieutenant, sir… Wha… you’re insane dude! Fuckin’ totally cracked! You hear yourself! You can’t do this! I can’t be… I can’t chase… I don’t… don’t like…. Fuck… fuck dude… what the fuck are you doing?! Quit pointin’ that shit at me bro! My.. my head!”

“Don’t worry son, I’ll let you off the hook for all that mouthing off. It’s got to be rough having your brain completely flipped inside out, dumped out and filled with everything you need to be a, productive, member of society. Isn’t that right Billy?”

“Wha.. Oh, hey Lieutenant! So uh, is it ok if I head off to the showers and hit the road? Kind of a slow night huh sir? If it’d be alright, I want to go down to the Strip and hit the bar. The dudes and I figured we’d start the weekend early, ya know? Gotta get get some tail on lock before the storms hit. Thinkin’ I might run into Becka too, you know, from Thornton Stables? God she’d look real pretty, all knocked up good n’ proper!”

“Oh alright son. Go ahead, take the night off. But you’re on call. Got it! One or two beers, maybe a shot, take some cash and buy the lass one of those fruity drinks, and you treat her like a lady, young man. Got it?”

“Got it Dude! I mean Lieutenant! I’ll make a lady outa her yet! Thanks for the money too! Ya know how rough it is on the town’s wages! Although you and the Board seem to be doin’ alright. I hope I can get to where you are, Sir!”

“Don’t worry Billy, you’ve got a good 40 years or so to work your way up! Go have fun tonight!”

350 notes · View notes

razcina · 1 month

Text

i’ll be there // Ch. 1

sam carpenter x fem!reader - masterlist

Samantha Carpenter struggles with her new life in NYC, not having much of a purpose other than to be the protector of her friends and family, and to attend therapy for feeling like an absolute psychopath and having the whole word view her as such. With all of her vices, will Sam be able to open her heart and let someone in?

wordcount: 2300

!! not proof-read, will edit. english isnt my first language haha

Sam had hoped moving to New York in an attempt to escape the trauma Woodsburo had brought, and so Tara and her friends could pursue their education would have lessened the constant paranoia and hateful looks she received, but if anything it only worsened.

News of the Woodsburo murders, and of Samantha Carpenter’s relations to the infamous Billy Loomis had spread all throughout the country, including stories of how the proclaimed “final girl” was the reason for the murders in the first place, and how she must carry the evil spirit of her father. Despite the constant speculation and sick rumors, Sam didn’t let any of it affect her.. atleast not publicly.

Afterall, the older Carpenter was preoccupied with keeping her younger sister, Tara safe, Something Tara personally hated. She understood Sams intentions, especially given the horrors they went through together back home, but all she wanted was freedom from all of this mess, and stubborn as ever, Tara would pull away from her sisters grasps whenever she could.

This once again led to Sam standing against the wall of some fraternity party swigging a bottle. Her eyes scanning the crowds of drunk college kids making sure Tara, aswell as her friends, Mindy, Chad, and Anika, weren’t making any stupid decisions. She’s incredibly focused, and any normal person would see her scowl and defensive stance and make the smart decision to back away. It’s what Sam expects, not opposed in the slightest as shes never been much of a social person. Thus, when she catches glimpse of a figure slip around her out of the corner of her eye, she startles, nearly dropping her drink.

Sam stands tall at around 5’9, so she barely notices when a shorter figure appears right beside her, looking up at her with a piercing gaze.

She looks down at the petite woman next to her. Normally, she wouldnt pay this person any mind, especially one this short and unthreatening looking, But she still stares, wondering how she even got there. she crosses her arms over her chest and takes a drink from her own bottle

“Watch where youre going”

Sam mutters, looking back up

The woman’s eyes narrow, but she masks a sly playful expression, contrasting sams gruff scowl.

“Why assume i didnt mean to come over here?”

Sam assumes this is just another person who had seen her on the news, eyeing her up and down, trying not to roll her eyes. This girl couldnt be the killer, but considering her size she seems too small to do any real damage. Sam grumbles.

“Why are you lookin at me?”

The other girl shrugs, leaning against the wall next to Sam and sipping on her own drink.

“Didn’t know it was illegal to stare at people scowling in a corner at a frat party”

Sam rolls her eyes

“Its not, i just don’t understand what you want from me”

The other girl shrugs again, speaking in a nonchalant tone

“To get to know you, you seem interesting”

Frowning little and tilting her head, Sams curiosity is getting the better of her, but not to the point shes gonna go and trust this girl and spill her darkest secrets. Shes always on edge, so even a slight tone change makes her suspicious. so she tries to keep her rough tone, but its not working.

“What about me?”

“i dont know.. why dont you tell me?”

The woman whispers, leaning against the wall next to sam, who is desperately trying to keep watching her friends and tara, but failing and getting distracted.

Sam eyes the short girl and swishes the alcohol in her bottle, suspicion spiking now and though she is trying not to, she is failing at trying to continue her grumpy attitude. Shes got her hand wrapped around the pepper spray on her keychain, just incase this girl tries anything, but she just stares, wondering why she even cares.

“I dont know? im.. just me”

The woman smiles shyly, shrugging

“thats oka-“

Before she finishes her sentence, some drunk guys rush past, pushing sam and her possible new friend aside roughly, Sam nearly drops her drink, and y/n is pushed right against sam. The taller woman groans in annoyance at the sudden impact, when she gets herself back together, she realizes the other stands fitting right under sams arm against her, seeming startled.

Sam hisses and looks down, noticing the woman stands right underneath her arm. if anything, shes startled as well. She cant help it though and her arms and hands instinctively wrap around y/n’s waist as she keeps her in place as well as protecting her from the crowd. Shes never protected someone before, other than her younger sister, but it was her instinct to grab this stranger by her waist. Sam doesnt know how she let this happen, but now this girl is pressed right up against her, and shes surprised that she didnt push her away yet. Normally she wouldnt be okay with someone touching her and would distance herself, but even though she seems annoyed and disgruntled, she doesnt move away. Instead Sam just keeps her arm around this girl, the pepper spray key chain hanging down as her hand rests on the shorter womans back. Shes a lot closer to her than she had anticipated.

The girls eyes widen slightly and she lets out a soft “oh-“ when sam grabs her to keep her standing. y/n sees the pepperspray out of the corner of her eye but seems not to react, instead getting distracted by sams toned biceps and overall upper body, a faint blush creeping onto her face. Sam is immediately confused with herself and gets the instinct to back away. sam didnt come here to make friends, shes here to watch and protect Tara and her existing friends.

She seems to snap out of her instincts and realized she held the girl a bit longer than she should have. She tries not to stare too hard at the smaller woman, though her curiosity and intrigue continues to grow. she doesnt push the girl away and looks away as she puts one hand on her drink and looks off to the side, clearing her throat

“you alright?”

Sam asks with a gentle voice she didnt expect to come out of her. shes usually loud, and rude, shes surprised by the softness to her tone.

“y-yeah..”

y/n mumbles, still blushing as she watches sams hand slowly leave her waist.

“thank you..”

Sam raises an eyebrow at y/n. She didnt know if she was actually okay, but shes not gonna ask again, Keeping one hand on her drink as she crosses her arms over her chest again. Shes still watching y/n, though in the corner of her eye, as shes back to keeping a close watch on her Tara, among other friends she’s looking out for.

“hm. youre welcome.”

“whats your name?”

y/n blurts out suddenly, unsure of a better time to ask

Sam looks back at the girl and narrows her eyes into slight suspicion again. She never really liked giving out her info, especially during this era. But.. for some reason she caves, shrugging and then leaning back against the wall.

“Sam. Your name?”

“y/n”

She responds, leaning against the wall next to sam, having to look up to talk to her

“Hi Sam..”

Sam just lets out a short hum as a response. Its unusual for sam to feel this way around someone, not so on edge as she usually is.

She just keeps a close eye on everything around her, mainly Tara and co, but y/n was slightly distracting.

y/n tilts her head, the playful glint returning to her hazel eyes

“What, am I not interesting enough for you to look at?”

Sam looks at y/n, raiseing an eyebrow with a flat look.

“I was watching everything, and youre included. So yes. youre interesting enough”

She just takes a sip from her drink, trying to keep her tone even.

“You seem distracted”

Sam mumbles something in response but y/n doesnt catch it, squinting at the tall girl instead.

“Okay.. so what are you doing here if you dont like parties? No ones forcing you to be here you know.. you dont seem like a party person.”

“..yeah. I have to watch my friends and sister.”

she takes another sip of her drink, not taking her eyes off the crowd as she does so.

y/n tilts her head

“You have to babysit your adult friends and sister?”

Sam just scoffs and rolls her eyes, her tone going back to being harsh. She never liked the “babysitter” word that some people like to use when talking about her. She crosses her arms over her chest again.

“If youre calling this babysitting, then yes i have to babysit my “adult friends” and sister.”

“Why?”

Sam scoffs again, her tone becoming harsher when y/n doesn’t even know the answer and has probably never been in her situation.

“Because they need me. Because someone in this world is always out to kill them.”

Sam eyes the shorter woman again, then glances back to the crowd. She doesn’t even know why she’s explaining this to a stranger.

“Oh.”

It clicks in y/n’s head that the taller woman is refferring to the recent ghostface killings. She had heard of them all over, and how they were starting to pop up around NYC.

Sam is surprised when it clicks for her. Usually people ask, “what do you mean someone’s out to kill them?” or “why do they need you?” or “you can’t be serious” but y/n didnt. She just put the pieces together. and sam didn’t know what to say further. She takes another sip from her drink as she glances around the party, now a bit more anxious

y/n looks somber when the killings are mentioned, an expression Sam barely notices

“What about your own enjoyment?”

The paranoid woman’s stomach drops at the mention of her own enjoyment. She actually hasn’t had any.. in a while. For a long time. Shes always on duty. Always keeping an eye on things and everyone else. she didn’t even think she deserved any own enjoyment. Sam was doing this for everyone else, not herself. She shakes her head and takes another sip from her drink, her tone a bit harsh

“im more concerned about their lives than my enioyment”

“mm..”

y/n’s change of voice is hard to hide as she says something that catches sam off guard entirely.

“You’re a really good person.. the kind people should appreciate more”

Samantha is taken back when she hears the compliment, and she stays silent for a moment. She didnt think she was a good person. She didnt think she was anything. Sam just shook her head, not knowing what to say. She was Billy Loomis’ daughter..

“no im not-“

She quickly argues. it wasnt true. she just did what she had to do, she had to protect. there was nothing else to it. Sam took another sip from her drink, hoping y/n would just move on, because she didnt want to talk about it

“hush”

The other woman cuts her off, glancing up at her and takes a sip of her own drink. Sam can see that her eyes seem to be slightly moist*

“youre perfect”

y/n whispers, barely able to be heard under the loud party music.

Sams eyes widen again. Her heart rate speeds up just from y/n calling her perfect. this isnt right. Sam wasnt perfect. she killed someone. Sam feels all her walls just break down at this point, which is incredibly out of character for her.

“im- im not perfect-“

Sam whispers, almost like a whimper. her harshness fades away and her gentle look comes in place as she stares down at y/n.

Sam blinks in complete shock. Was this girl about to cry? and why was she telling Sam she was perfect? therapy tall woman doesnt know what to do with this comment, and her cheeks had heated up a bit. Sam was about to speak when she notices those little tears in y/n’s eyes and stops herself. She cant say what she was about to say. she just watches her.

y/n smiles faintly, clearing her thoat

“i-i should go.. and leave you to your babysitting.”

Sam watches her, eyes soft as she sees her smile. She was hoping she didnt hear that right, but she couldnt get herself to stop her. Sam was about to speak again, but the harshness in her voice was completely gone. there was no more scowl, and she was just being soft like y/n was. As the short woman begins to walk away though, Sam stops her and grabs her hand. Startled, her head darts around and she looks up at Sam, a tear already threatening to fall.

..!

Sam freezes for a second, then realizes that she just grabbed y/n’s hand and is still holding onto her hand. In this moment, her mind is racing. She wants to say something but cant. She wants to ask something but feels this is just wrong. Sam watches as the tear runs down her cheek. She sees it and freezes. She cant help but feel guilty for making this girl almost cry. Normally, Sam would have let her go, and let the girl cry without even a care, but.. this was different. There was an urge to comfort her. So sam just takes a little step closer and gently grabs the girls chin, tilting her head up to look at her, all care about Tara and ghostface vanished.

“dont..”

132 notes · View notes

cooliestghouliest · 3 months

Text

LOVE ME TWO TIMES, ch. one

(chapter one) (chapter two)

PAIRING: eventual Mungrove x Reader

SUMMARY: Struggling to come to terms with the abrupt abandonment of your father, you’re left with two options – attend an “all girls’ therapeutic boarding academy” that’s really more Bedlam Insane Asylum than trusty reformative school, or move half-way across the country to a small town in Indiana to live with your older brother, Rick. The upheaval of your life in Fresno might just end up being a little star-crossed and a whole lot serendipitous.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k+

SERIES TAGS: angst. some pretty heavy topics in later chapters. just enough fluff to hopefully balance it all out. eventual smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI). eventual love triangle. neurodiversity. dom/sub undertones (dom!Billy, switch!Eddie, switch!Reader), also bi!Eddie and bi!Reader but confused!Billy. drugs and drug addiction. no use of Y/N (but much use of nicknames and pet names). Reefer Rick is Matthew Lillard circa Senseless. more TBA as the story progresses.

CHAPTER TAGS: absent dads and mean moms. brief mention of self-destructive tendencies (way more about that later). your brother's a total cockblock. long-winded parental background information. this is really just some stage setting before we get into the nitty gritty.

A/N: this is my favorite fic i've ever written, and now it's coming at you re-edited. it's my verbose word child, sprinkled with a few What The Fuck and Holy Shit moments, dolled up with some silly humor and a dose of hot (and often borderline depraved) smut. a lot's already planned for this, so i hope you enjoy. :-)

—

chapter title: O Brother, Where Art Thou?

You weren’t expecting the high pitch of the doorbell that sounded throughout your colonial-style home, and proof of that was now spilled all over the kitchen floor.

Tiny green buds were sprinkled across the white-and-black linoleum tile, some scattered in the blonde mess of curls that belonged to the boy kneeling before you, his mouth busy between your legs.

You’d been attempting to multitask, rolling a joint while twisted awkwardly at the dining table, the quarterback’s head shrouded by your bare thighs, lapping noisily at your wet center.

You huffed out a frustrated sigh at the spillage, but it quickly turned into a moan when goldilocks gave a particularly harsh suck on your clit.

“You needa get that?” he mumbled against your folds, tongue halting its assault only to speak before diving back in, showing no intention of stopping.

You shook your head, one hand moving to tangle in the his hair, the other crumbling up the now empty and useless rolling paper. “Uh-uh… prob’ly just some Mormons,” you answer, beginning to rock your hips up into the warm mouth covering your cunt. “I don’t wanna be saved.”

Chris… or Carl… or Craig… whatever his name was, laughed, the sound vibrating nicely against your heat. Your toes curled at the sensation, thighs wrapping tight around his ears.

He moaned appreciatively at your movement, running his tongue flat against the length of your opening. Maybe you could keep this one around. He liked New Kids on the Block unironically, but holy shit, he knew what to do with his mouth.

The bell rang again.

And then again, and again, and again.

“Oh, little seeeee-eeee-ster!” came a familiar male voice from the other side of the front door. “I know you’re in there, Bean. I can see your shadow in the kitchen!”

You shot up straight, aligning your posture and pulling Chris Carl Craig from between your legs by the grip you had in his hair. He gave an unappealing whine, his fingers moving up to console his scalp.

Standing quickly, you adjusted your pleated skirt so it fell normal again, just above your knees. “Up, up, up,” you impatiently urged the jock still kneeling on the ground, smoothing your clothing and hair to make sure nothing looked too out of place.

“Who is that?” the blonde asked, finally following you into a standing position, large hand still cradling his head. “Still the Mormons?”

“It was never Mormons, Chet,” you said, hoping your shot-in-the-dark guess at his name was right.

It wasn’t.

“It’s Chad,” he said, eyes beginning to narrow. Whether it was in suspicion, confusion, annoyance, or a combination of all three, you didn’t know. And it didn’t matter. You needed to get him out of here without your new visitor catching sight of him, or else you knew you’d never hear the end of it. Chad was still intent on conversing, though. “We’ve literally been in the same school district since, like, kindergarten.”

You bit your lower lip, offering a sheepish smile. “Right,” you said. “I know that.” You didn’t. “Sorry. Head’s a little loopy right now. Your tongue could win awards.”

With Chad’s newfound cocky grin, you knew the flattery angle had worked out. It usually did. Boys were such suckers for some ego stroking.

“Oh, fuckin’ right!” you heard from the front door, the visitor’s voice now cheerful. The door handle began to jangle, and you heard the sound of a key in the lock.

He must have found the spare. Of course he had. He’d only lived here his entire childhood, just like you.

The key had been in the same place it always had been since moving to Fresno -- under the coir doormat that read Definitely Not a Trap Door, courtesy of your father. He’d made it for the family after moving from Chicago to California for his new teaching position at CSU in ‘70. Your mom still hadn't gotten around to throwing it out, even though she’d managed to get rid of almost everything else inside the home that reminded her of her ex-husband.

The door swung open and there stood your older brother in all his punk rock, Fuck-the-Bourgeoisie glory. Short bleached blonde hair, numerous facial piercings, ripped Dead Kennedys t-shirt, tight red tartan pants, muddy black Doc Martens. He was smiling wide, dopey.

Fuckin' Rick.

You started to match his expression, unable to resist your brother’s effortless and childlike charm, but your smile fell flat when Rick’s now disapproving gaze landed on the blonde still standing at your side.

“A Letterman, Bean? Really?” Rick asked you incredulously, having spotted Chad’s football jacket as the jock in question slid it from its place on the kitchen chair to rest over his broad shoulder.

“What?” you asked Rick coyly, quickly eyeing Chad. “You know I don’t discriminate. I’m a true equal opportunist.”

Chad seemed oblivious to the underlying context of the conversation between the pair of siblings. He was watching the two of you interact with seemingly nothing behind his eyes.

God, so cute but so totally stupid.

You closed the distance between the two of you, Chad looking hopeful he was going to be kissed or something, but you instead reached your hand out to pluck a few pieces of weed from his hair. “You can go now,” you told him, finger tapping his nose lightly.

Chad’s face scrunched at your touch but he then shrugged it off, picking his backpack up off the kitchen floor before making his way to the front door. “See ya at school,” he said to you over his shoulder. Stopping briefly next to your brother, Chad assessed him before saying, “Um, bye, whoever you are.”

Rick pulled his lips into a tight line, raising his brows in amusement. He clapped his hand hard on Chad’s back a few times before pushing the footballer out the door. “Later, loverboy.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

An hour and a half later, you and Rick were seated on opposite ends of the tufted tuxedo sofa in the living room. A box of half-eaten extra cheese pizza laid open in between the two of you.

Some low budget horror VHS was playing on the TV across from the couch, the volume low. You thought it was called Ghoulies. You kept catching glances of tiny, ugly wet looking monsters scurrying on the screen out of your peripheral.

You’d been talking to Rick about senior year at Fresno Central High (you said you were doing great, straight A’s across the board, but in reality, you were failing everything but English and Music).

You'd been talking about work at Spins and Needles, the record store you’d been employed at for a little over two years now (you told him you’d gotten promoted to Assistant Manager, which was true, but you left out the fact that you were on Strike Two of Three for blowing off shifts to get high with some goth kids that routinely came in a few hours before closing).

And you'd been talking about your mom (this you were honest about – “She’s still a huge bitch, Rick, that hasn’t changed”).

But then he tried to bring up your dad, asking in an obnoxiously forced nonchalant tone if you’d heard from him lately.

That’s where you stopped him.

You were not going to talk about your dad.

Flipping the pizza box lid shut harshly, you sat up straight and faced him.

“Why are you really here?” you demanded.

Rick sighed, defeated.

He knew you’d catch on soon enough that this supposed innocent visit was actually a planned mission. He’d just been hoping maybe you’d be the one to breach the topic of going back to Indiana with him. Maybe you wanted out of this Californian hellhole. A chance at a fresh start, hundreds of miles away.

But he knew you recently had developed a penchant for self-destruction and self-catastrophizing, which meant getting you to see the bright side and the positives of his request was going to be near impossible.

Still, he had to try.

“Mom called me,” he admitted, which earned him a dramatic eye roll from you. “I know you’re failing your classes. I know your boss has been blowing up the landline wondering why you keep closing up shop so early. And I know mom’s a bitch. I’m trying to save you from her. She said she’s thinking of enrolling you into St. Mary’s.” Rick wasn’t surprised at the bewildered scoff you gave to that, St. Mary’s being Indiana’s notorious Catholic boarding school for wayward girls. He’d finally gotten to the point, the real reason he was there: “Come stay with me in Hawkins, Bean.”

“Wow, Rick, so noble. It only took you, what, ten years to come back for me?”

Rick couldn’t help but flinch, your wounding words accusing. And accurate.

It was true.

Rick, at twenty, had left Fresno in an old RV he’d bought for dirt cheap, with plans to travel the country and get the fuck away from his parents, Ronald and Maureen Lipton.

Or, away from his mother, really.

Ron Lipton was generally fine -- until a certain point in his life. To outsiders, the man seemed to be very happy and very put-together, successfully established in both his home life and his career.

Ron and Maureen had gotten married just a few short months following their high school graduation, after finding out Maureen was pregnant with Rick.

With the draft ever present, Ron enlisted in the army, while Maureen enlisted the help of her mother-in-law to take care of Rick (and eventually you, once you were born, conceived on one of Ron’s short stints back home), so she could work on her doctorate in psychiatry.

After being honorably discharged a handful of years later, Ron had gotten his Master’s degree in education and creative writing.

To the public, Ronald and Maureen Lipton were fantastic at keeping up the facade of Perfect Suburban Family.

In private, however, the Lipton household was like living in a layer of Hell.

Where Ron was imaginative and endlessly inquisitive, instilling a love of storytelling and curiosity in his children, Maureen was passive aggressive and judgemental, harboring jealousy for the relationship her children had with her husband. This eventually festered a spiteful dynamic between her and Ron, and between her and her offspring as well.

When the two of you were younger, Rick in his late teens and you in your last years of elementary school, one of your favorite backyard games was to wonder aloud to each other how and why your parents had ever even gotten together in the first place.

You were both sure that it must have been an arranged marriage of some sorts.

Rick thought maybe your grandparents had made a deal with the devil, and to ensure the safety of the family, Ronald and Maureen were forced to be betrothed for life.

You thought maybe Maureen was an evil sorceress who had cast a spell on your father, trapping him in a loveless marriage that he was an unsuspecting victim in.

The truth was not stranger than fiction.

The reason behind their nuptials was simple, really: Ronald was raised to believe he needed to provide for his family, and after having knocked Maureen up not only once but twice, he was resigned to the fact that this was his path in life.

Devoted father, loving husband.

While he couldn’t stand his wife, her harshness and indignation usurping any positive characteristics she may have once had, Ron did love his children. Dearly.

Rick was his wild child; his rebellious, rambunctious trouble maker.

Ron would sit on the front porch late at night, waiting for Rick to get home and tell him all about his latest escapades. What parties he’d gone to, what girls he’d kissed, whether he preferred the high from acid or mushrooms more. Ron lived vicariously through his son, encouraging the boy to play hard, but to play hard responsibly.

You were Ron’s Little Leia of Alderaan; his opinionated, open-minded warrior, brave enough to stand up to any bully who’d dare to make fun of you or your friends. You were Ron’s daydreamer, his whimsical muse, his daily reminder that there was still innocent softness in this cruel world.

You would have Daddy Daughter Dates twice a week, where you’d do things like go to the roller rink or have picnics in the park, and they always ended with a two scoop mint chocolate chip ice cream cone shared between the both of you.

But Ron’s love for his life dwindled the second he stepped foot inside his house -- where he was forced to occupy space with his resentful excuse of a wife, a woman who would never miss a beat to berate him for every choice he’d ever made in his life.

With your older brother gone, the squabbles between Ron and Maureen got worse.

Rick had been able to placate his father and put himself in the line of Maureen’s fire, taking her verbal hits so his father didn’t have to. You, being only ten when Rick had left, didn’t have much ground to stand on with your parents arguing, and trying to step in as Rick had would usually only make things escalate.

Ron fantasized about leaving, starting over anew. The immediate and resounding “no” that his subconscious always answered himself with, thinking of the kids, dwindled down over time, until all of his fantasizing led him to making actual plans of departure.

Last year, right before summer break was set to start, Ron finally left.

Having taken PTO from the campus, he’d waited that morning for Maureen to leave for work and for you to be on the bus to school. Alone, he took the time to pack all of his belongings, leaving only a few things behind, all with you in mind -- things to remind you of him in his absence. He’d intended on coming back for you as soon as possible, wanting to settle in somewhere before dragging his daughter into his uprooted life.

But it was over a year now that Ron had been gone, and you could count on one hand the amount of times he’d reached out to you.

You could count them on two fingers, actually.

The first time was the night after he’d left, when he’d tried explaining to you his reasoning, which you weren’t at all interested in hearing. You were beside yourself that he’d left you, just like Rick had, except Rick was your brother and that was normal, but Ron was your daddy and he was supposed to always be there.

Your mother, in anger that Ron would attempt to talk to you and not her, had disconnected the call, and while you waited by the phone all night for him to call back, he never did.

The second and last time he reached out was a few months ago, via letter for your 18th birthday. It was postmarked with an address in Fort Worth, Texas. When you’d tried writing back, you'd found the letter you'd sent in your mailbox a week later, marked Return to Sender.

It was mid-November now, and you hadn’t heard from him since.

At least Rick had kept in touch after he’d left.

He’d sent you care packages every month since arriving to Indiana in '81. They were full of sci-fi and horror books he’d found at the local Goodwill or Salvation Army, newspaper clippings for outlandish Classified segments, scribbled notes on stained notebook paper detailing concerts he’d gone to and new bands he thought you should check out.

Remembering this, you softened quickly after accusing Rick of abandoning, your biting comment causing guilt to swirl in your stomach.

Rick had his reasons to leave, you understood that. He was allowed to live his life. And even though he’d done just that, left and lived his life, he still always managed to keep tabs on you. The two of you hadn’t gone more than a few weeks without letters sent or parcels mailed back and forth since he’d first left home.

Never there, but never gone. Not really.

That was more than you could say for your father.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” you admitted, even though the hurt words you spoke did hold some kernel of truth. “It’s just… I don’t wanna have to start all over somewhere else.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Rick promised, choosing to let the accusation of his abandonment slide. He was sure you'd both get into it more later, considering it was a conversation that was long overdue. “The house is too big for just me anyway, and you know I’m fuckin’ shit at decorating. I’ve basically just been using beer cans for bookends and stuff like that – you could make it look way cozier.”

You laughed, sure your brother wasn’t exaggerating.

Rick was about as anti-capitalist as you could get, and that included being a minimalist when it came to possessions. Give the man a hand-me-down couch, a little TV, some weed, his cassettes, and a subscription to Playboy, and he’d be content for the rest of his life.

You were the opposite.

You loved things.

You had many different collections you’d amassed over the years -- your vast assortment of books had spilled from the two bookshelves in your room to several stacks littered throughout the house, much to your mother's annoyance; your vinyls were shoved into four big storage bins stacked under your octagonal bedroom window, which you draped a blanket over and used as a makeshift window seat nook; your cliques of creepy looking dolls you’d collected from estate sales and antique shops crowded your bed, your vanity, the storage shelf in your closet; the bug assemblages you’d been adding to since your childhood had their own corner of your room, little homes full of ladybugs, ants, and deathwatch beetles.

The idea that you could expand your knack for interior embellishing (hoarding, really) further than the confines of one room was one thing that made you start to consider taking Rick’s offer seriously.

That, and the realization that finally getting the fuck out of Fresno might not be such a bad idea.

Because what did you have there anymore, anyway? Shit grades? A handful of mean exes? A dead-end job?

Was any of that worth staying for?

You thought of your dad trying to reach out to you via telephone, imagined your mother answering and telling him you’d moved away and no longer lived there.

If it were only a few months since Ron had left, you didn’t think you would have gone with Rick back to Hawkins. You would have stayed just for the mere possibility that your dad would show up on the doorstep one day, begging for your forgiveness for leaving you alone with your coldhearted mother.

However, it was over a year now that he’d been gone. One year, four months, and fifteen days... if anyone was counting.

You’d never verbally admit it, but you still were.

There was a page hidden in the back of your diary where you kept track.

Your hopefulness was starting to make you sick.

Maybe a change wouldn’t be so bad.

Going back to Hawkins with Rick sure beat being forced to attend an all girls’ reformatory school, one with a reputation that claimed the headmaster performed shock therapy on students in lieu of giving them detentions.

You were sure that was just a rumor, but still. You didn’t want to take any chances.

“Bean, let me be there for you,” Rick said, reaching over to grasp your hand with his fingers. You noted his nails were painted a lime green. “It’ll be just like when we were kids, except now you’re older and actually cool so I won’t be embarrassed to introduce you to all my friends.” Dipping his head to the side, he wiggled his pierced brows, a grin toying on his lips as he added, “And we can smoke weed in the house.”

Pretending as if that alone was what sealed the deal, you stood swiftly. “Say less. You really should’ve started with that, Richard.” You headed off in the direction of the stairs that led up to your room, glancing over your shoulder at your brother who was staring off after you with a relieved countenance on his face. “Gimme an hour and then we can go?”

Rick answered with two thumbs up before grabbing a slice of pizza, shoving as much as he could of it into his mouth as you disappeared up the spiral staircase.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy x reader #billy x you #mungrove x reader #mungrove #billy hargrove smut #eddie munson smut

144 notes · View notes

theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

Text

A Fresh Start [5]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: use of fake name, reader’s on the run, grogu is a menace, jealousy, pining (is that a warning?)

Word Count: 4,913

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #05: WIFE MATERIAL

Chapter Summary: Nima thinks you and the Marshal are cute. Cara thinks you and the Marshal are cute. Mayfield just runs for his life.

"too shy to say, but i hope you stay." -Billie Eilish

Two weeks flashed by in a blink of an eye, and Din Djarin and his son had fallen into a new routine⏤ one with you as a staple addition to it. Din had been so sure that their lives had been perfect on Nevarro before you, but you swept in and created a space for yourself that was now essential. The sound of your voice, your laughter, your steps padding across the floor had seamlessly become a part of the soundtrack of his and his son’s life.

“The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round,” You sung to Grogu who mumbled the repetitive words while miming the spinning motions you made with your hands. His large brown eyes were focused on you with great intensity. “The wipers on the bus go…”

“Swish, swish, swish.” Grogu mumbled the words in Basic while waving his arms side to side to mimic the motion of wipers. You clapped your hands excitedly, and Grogu giggled and bounced at the praise.

Din leaned against the wall with his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold in the living room. Grogu had finished with breakfast and now sat on the couch in your lap. He was half tempted to call Cara and let her know he was taking a sick day. If he wasn’t so sure she’d see through his excuse and mock him for it, he might’ve tried.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, and Din tensed at being caught staring. He pushed off the wall and walked over. You lifted Grogu in the air, rocking him to make him laugh, and Din scooped him from your hands to curl into his chest. “Are you having fun, ad’ika?” He asked as Grogu buried his face into the crook of his neck. “Are you having fun with Soran?”

“ ‘lek!” Grogu cooed.

“Do Mandalorians have any rhymes or songs?” You asked.

Din titled his head. “I know a lullaby, but it’s not like the ones you sing with him.” He rubbed Grogu’s back. “Thank you for the songs.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Din elaborated. “Grogu has gotten better with some words in Basic. I was worried.”

“Don’t be.” You rose from the couch and walked around to stand beside him. “The book I’m reading says that kids who are raised in a multilingual home take a little longer in their language development. It’s completely normal.”

Your words soothed his quiet concerns. To be honest, Din hadn’t been as worried about Grogu’s speaking habits since you arrived simply because he had become more vocal. Add to that the fact that he’d be starting school next week, brightened his mood even further. Grogu would only learn more and more from there. Din began to walk towards the door while still cradling his son in his arms. You stayed one step beside him with a sweet smile decorating your soft features. The warmth in your eyes when you stared at Grogu always brought a smile to his own face.

“I’ll bring home dinner from the new place that opened up in the plaza.” Din said. “Don’t worry about cooking.”

“Ooh, yum.” You playfully tugged on one of Grogu’s ears making him squeal again. “Hear that? We’re getting noodles for dinner tonight.”

The dinner situation had oddly been settled without much discussion. A pattern had just clicked into place. Din would come home and remove his helmet to eat with Grogu while you got some time to yourself, then you would come out to watch Grogu while he cleaned up from his day out in the city. Finally, he’d don his helmet once more and the three of you ended up spending time with one another before Din would take Grogu to bed. Sometimes, you’d even eat dinner with them. Din and you would find a spot on the floor, like a picnic, and sit back to back while Grogu ran circles around you both sneaking food from every plate he could touch.

“Noodle.” Grogu bounced in his arms and repeated the word over and over as if the chant would bring forth the food immediately.

Din held his arms out for you to take Grogu from him. “Only if you behave, ad’ika.”

“Tell your dad that you always behave.” You gasped, as if appalled at his statement. “You’re a little angel, aren’t you?”

“ ‘lek!”

Din chuckled with a shake of his head. He loved his son more than life itself, but angel would hardly be the word he’d use to describe Grogu’s menace-like tendencies. It was his mischievous nature that Din loved so dearly. If there were trouble in a nine mile radius, Grogu would find it. And if there wasn’t? His son was hardly hesitant in starting the mayhem himself.

“Oh,” You said abruptly, “Don’t forget, Grogu’s appointment is at 2 today.”

Din nodded, thankful for the reminder, and mentally made a note. This would be Grogu’s first appointment with the local physician and he wanted to be present for it. He believed you to be more than capable of taking his son on your own, but Din worried how Grogu would handle being in a medical facility. He wasn’t sure how much Grogu went through while in Gideon’s hands, and Din wanted to be there to support him in any way that he could.

“Thanks. I can meet you there.” Din replied. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against Grogu’s⏤ smiling when the boy wrapped his arms around his helmet in response. “Be good, ad’ika.” Din leaned back and after a beat he offered you a small nod. “I’ll see you this afternoon, cyar’ika. Call me if you need me.”

“I will. Bye, Mando.” You replied. As he stepped out the door, you stayed in the doorway to allow Grogu to wave at him. Din smiled to himself and readjusted his gloves to give his hands something to do. He would be lying if he said that he never had the urge to rest his forehead against yours when saying good-bye in the morning. A fact that he tried very, very hard not to think about.

You sat on the couch reading one of the many books from your past library on the holopad in your hands. As it turned out, after successfully guessing your last used password from a year ago, you were able to access all the books you had downloaded during your training years. Right now, the relevant ones you were reading all dealt with pediatric development and care. It hadn’t been a topic that particularly interested you back then. You learned what you had to in order to properly treat any younger patients, but that was it. Now, you found the topic exhilarating.

The more information you absorbed the better prepared you were to take care of Grogu. That was your thought process at least. Doing a good job was about more than just ‘doing a good job’. Grogu had quickly become an important part of your life, and you truly cared for the little boy. More than just Grogu, his father had grown on you as well. Living in this house with them, becoming a part of their daily routine, made you feel like you belonged somewhere. It was something you hadn’t realized you missed until you got a taste of it once again.

“Patu.” Grogu cooed.

You looked up from your holopad to see him standing at your feet holding up a piece of paper. He had been drawing on the floor in the middle of the living room. “What’s this?” You set aside the holopad and picked him up. The picture he drew was a scribbled version of you holding a mass of green with big arms. “Aw, is this me and you?”

“ ‘lek.”

“I love it.” You said with a waver in your voice. A picture drawn in crayons shouldn’t mean so much to you, but you were already making plans to frame the paper and hang it up on the wall where you could see it every single day. “Thank you, sweetie.”

You pulled him closer to cuddle him in a hug, but Grogu surprised you by lifting his hands to pat your cheeks. The cheek patting was hardly new, but then he lifted his head to press his forehead to the middle of your face⏤ the closest he could reach to your forehead. It was the action you watched Mando do to Grogu all the time. A sign of affection. As if the picture wasn’t enough to send you over the edge. You felt your eyes well up with tears and felt so silly at the notion that you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Grogu pulled back and tilted his head in question.

“Happy tears. I’m happy.” You shook your head and lightly bopped him on the nose with your finger making you giggle. “You made me very, very happy.”

If there was one thing you had learned about yourself in the three weeks you had been here it was how unhappy and alone you were in Tatooine⏤ hell, even in Coruscant this last year. You knew, you understood, but you hadn’t truly realized until you began to make new connections. It was all so overwhelming and it left you an emotional mess.

“How about we leave the house early?” You sniffed. “We can go say hello to Peli and Nima, and then pick up lunch.”

Grogu was just as happy as you assumed he’d be at the prospect of leaving the house. It took you only a few minutes to clean up a bit and get Grogu into his pram before the two of you were out and traveling to Peli’s shop. In your time here, you had learned the layout of Nevarro well enough to get around without much issue. There were still a few places you needed instruction to get to, but you were fairly proud of how settled you had become.

You heard Peli’s shop before you saw it, and Grogu’s pram sped up a bit in excitement to see Peli. He zoomed through the shop with practiced ease and you followed behind at a casual pace. It seemed the shop wasn’t overly busy and Grogu led you through the garage out to the back yard which Peli used more as a junkyard.

“Green bean!” Nima yelled in greeting.

She poked her head up from a pile of scrap metal to bounce over to the pram. Peli followed next and both women stood around Grogu cooing and chatting with the small child. You chuckled and lifted a hand to wave. “Hi. I’m here too.”

“Yeah, but you’re not nearly as cute.” Peli replied bluntly.

Nima lifted her gaze to you with a shrug. “No offense.”

“I’ll try to push through the pain, but I don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight.”

Peli picked up Grogu and began to bounce him on her hip to his delight. Nima tickled his belly once before drifting closer to where you stood. She crossed her arms with a smirk. “Things seem to be going good.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “They are.”

“Well, I am very happy for you,” Nima set her hand on your shoulder, “But I am also incredibly disappointed because now I don’t have a drinking partner.” You let out a laugh and gave her a light shove. Nima decided to wrap her arm around you instead. “Real talk though, it’s good to see you enjoying yourself. You can show me gratitude for finding you the job by joining me at the cantina tonight. It’s singles tuesday.”

You shook your head. “Okay, first off, why would they have a singles night on a Tuesday? Why not the weekend?” Nima just shrugged. “And unfortunately I can’t. Mando is picking up dinner for us from that new noodle place.”

Nima pulled her arm away to pout. “Can’t you just take your part to go. Hanging with me tonight will be so much more fun than eating in your room alone, I promise.”

“I’m not gonna eat in my room.” You shrugged. “Usually when he brings dinner home, we eat together. We just pick a spot on the floor and sit back to back. That way I can’t see his face while he eats, but we both get to spend dinnertime with Grogu.” Her comical pout slowly turned into a mischievous smile. You furrowed your brow at her in mild concern. It was never good when she got that look. “What?”

“Marshal Mando is bringing dinner home for you guys to share.” Nima repeated what you said, and you weren’t sure what she was getting at. “Together. Kind of like…” You raised an eyebrow at her, and she shimmed her shoulders, “A date.”

Your eyes widened. “What? No. No, no, no. It’s not like that. It’s not romantic.”

“You sit on the floor together. Food spread out around you like a picnic.” Nima said slowly. “How much space is there between the two of you? Or do you literally sit back to back?” At her question, you felt your cheeks grow warm in embarrassment. It was literal. The two of you didn’t necessarily touch, but the last time this happened if you had leaned back even a little you would’ve been able to rest against his back. Nima bounced in place. “That’s so cute! Ah, okay, you definitely can’t come to singles night then.”

“Stop.” You held a hand up to point at her. “You always do this. Remember when you visited me during training and convinced yourself I was having a love affair with my professor?” Nima’s features turned sheepish and she mumbled a response under her breath. “What was that?”

“I was wrong.” Nima sighed. “But in my defense, the two of you had some very intense chemistry.”

“We didn’t. He was married. To a man.” You shook your head. “You literally imagined everything. To which, I will commend your active and creative imagination, but you’re wrong.” You reached out and placed both your hands on her shoulders. “I love you, but you’re very, very wrong.”

“Boo.” Nima dragged the word out, her pout returned.

You laughed at her disdain and she easily rolled into a rant about a customer she had to deal with earlier in the day. Her claim about Mando lingered in your mind, but you shoved it out of your head with gusto. Your first week here had been a bit awkward, but the last two had been a dream as everything seemed to fall into place. Mando had become your friend. It was more than you could ask for considering he was your employer. The last thing you wanted to do was mess that up by catching feelings.

“Hey!” You and Nima paused in conversation to see Peli coming over with Grogu. “Bright eyes here is hungry. You gotta get him out of here before he starts snacking on my stuff.”

You held your arms out and Grogu excitedly leaned out to fall into them. “Are you hungry, sweetie? You wanna get lunch?” He clapped his hands and you chuckled. “Alright. Say good-bye to Peli and Nima. Can you say bye?” Grogu waved his little hand and you decided to continue holding him rather than setting him back into his pram. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Message me if you change your mind about tonight!” Nima waved.

You walked out of the shop with Grogu’s pram following after you. Mando had taught you how to program it to the arm band he had given to you. Nevarro’s streets were busy and you greeted familiar faces and you passed them. Anytime you had Grogu with you, more people stopped to say hello just so they could have a moment with the adorable child in your arms.

“Hey,” You held Grogu’s hand and his small fingers wrapped around yours, “We were supposed to meet your dad at 2, but should we pick up lunch and surprise him at his office?”

Grogu squealed in agreement and you were unsurprised by the response. You had learned that Mando was a fan of the sandwich shop owned by a local couple and as you’d have to walk by it anyways to get to the station it seemed ideal. It didn’t take long to pick up some food, and the owners had gifted Grogu with some free, blue cookies.

It didn’t take long to get to the station from there, but in that time Grogu had managed to gobble down every single small cookie they had given him. You set the bag of food in the pram so you could brush the crumbs off of his clothes. “I’m starting to think you eat this messy on purpose, kiddo.” He giggled innocently and you shook your head. You picked up the bag of food again as you entered the station. One of the two rotating receptionists sat behind the desk as usual. “Hey, Thilxi! How’re you today?”

“I’m doing well.” The Rishii woman replied. Her feathers were a mix of black, tan, and a pretty shade of orange. “Are you looking for the Marshal?”

“Yeah, is he in?”

“Mhmm. Go on back.”

You thanked her and took the side hallway to get to where the actual office sat. The only person sitting in the room was Cara who was currently reading through a holopad. She lifted her gaze at the sound of your approach and a smirk crossed her features. Before you could speak, she called out, “Hey, Mando. We got some citizens here with a request.”

You recognized the sound of Mando’s heavy boots. He began to ask what he was needed for, but his modulated words came to a halt, as did his stride, when his eyes landed on you. Mando’s head tilted in question. You held up the bag of food with a smile. “Lunch request.”

“Buir!” Grogu blurted. “Skraan. Skraan, Buir!”

Mando chuckled and crossed the space in a few easy strides and scooped Grogu from your arms. “Hey there, ad’ika.” He rubbed his son’s head and tugged lightly on a ear making Grogu giggle and grab at the hand. Mando focused on you. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“We were already out.” You shrugged. “Figured we could just leave from here to the clinic. You aren’t busy are you?”

“No. Not at all.” Mando nodded his head back toward the doorway. “We can sit in my office.”

“Skraan.” Grogu grabbed at the edge of Mando’s helmet.

“Call me if you need me.” Mando said.

Cara, who was still grinning, nodded, “Sure thing, boss.”

“Nice to see you, Cara.” You gave her a small wave before following after Mando. She returned your greeting with ease. You hadn’t actually been to the back part of this office yet, but through the door was just another short hall that led to a generator room, a storage closet, and Mando’s office. There was also a door at the very end of the hallway with an ‘exit’ side hanging above it.

Mando set Grogu down on his desk while you glanced around. It was a small and rather plain space. A large window on one side allowed natural light in, which was nice, and there was a desk in the center of the room. The swivel chair behind the desk was olive in color and it matched the double cushioned couch sitting under the window. Behind the desk, on the wall, were a few drawings made by Grogu.

“What does ‘skraan’ mean?” You asked. “Is it like ‘hungry’? I always notice he uses it around the time I’m about to feed him.”

Mando let out a short laugh. “No. Fair guess though. It’s slang for ‘meal’.”

So the green gremlin was just demanding his meal time. That sounded about right. You set the bag of food on the desk and Grogu immediately rushed to grab it. Mando scooped his son up again before he could shred through the brown bag to get to his sandwich.

“No, no.” Mando said. Grogu let out a soft whine. “Be patient.”

You began to unpack the bag while glancing over at Mando who was bouncing Grogu while chatting with him softly. As you began to throw away the bag into a bin nearby you heard Grogu patting his hand against his father’s chest repeatedly.

“Oh. You know what? He hasn’t used the bathroom since this morning. I can take him.”

“Don’t worry. Start eating, I’ll be back.”

You watched Mando leave with Grogu and turned back to the food. In the silence, it occurred to you that this was a half planned idea considering it wasn’t like the two of you could just sit on the floor here. You rubbed the back of your neck and tried to puzzle this out.

Din’s morning had been busy. There had been a mess on the tarmac where scheduled landings got tangled up causing a number of near crashes. The team there should have been able to manage it on their own, but tempers flared and he got called there to witness. Din spent his morning babysitting temperamental pilots and flight crews.

Needless to say, he really should’ve tried to call in sick.

Din kept telling himself he’d at least get to see Grogu and you sooner than dinner time because of the clinic appointment. He never expected you to show up at the station with his son and lunch in tow. Din was beyond grateful for his helmet because if Cara saw the dumb smile that spread across his face she never would’ve let him live it down.

He stepped out of the bathroom with Grogu only to immediately be met with a sly grin on Cara’s face. He slumped with a sigh. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Cara replied. Din tilted his head in exasperation and Cara just laughed in response. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms⏤ preening as if she had just won an award. “It’s just… interesting.”

Grogu grunted and began to pat his chest again. Knowing exactly what his son wanted, he knelt over and let Grogu down. He didn’t hesitate to rush away back to where his food was awaiting him. Din turned back to Cara and he pointed at her. “No.”

“Soran bringing you food and a visit from your son in the middle of the day just for the hell of it before you both take him to the doctor for a school registration check up feels very⏤ what’s the phrase I’m looking for?” Cara hummed then nodded her head. “Domestic. Wife material.”

Din set his hands on his hip and chose to keep his stance as casual as he could. His face felt hot and he knew he was bright red under his helmet. He already knew how attached he had become to the domestic energy that surrounded his home life. From day one, Din enjoyed that. Even back when things were still awkward, the moment he came home that first day to dinner being ready and Grogu calling out to him he had been hooked to that lifestyle. It was after that, much more recent, that Din realized it wasn’t just the domestic nature of things he was growing attached to.

It was you.

Din liked coming home to you. He liked watching you sing and dance with Grogu in the kitchen every morning. He liked the moments he got alone with you. It had been an accident the first night he stepped out of his room after putting Grogu to bed and ran into you in the kitchen. He had donned his helmet just to go get water but stayed there for a full hour just to talk with you. Now, he made it a habit.

You were the first woman he had any semblance of feelings for in quite some time. In the past, any sort of attraction he felt was easy enough to ignore. He’d climb aboard the Razor Crest, fly off to work on the next bounty, and that was it. It was done and over. Din was learning that trying to ignore an attraction he felt for someone he lived with was much, much more difficult. He had to forget it though⏤ had to push it aside. You worked for him, and Din would never forgive himself if he jeopardized the new routine Grogu had become accustomed to. If he made you uncomfortable, chased you off, Grogu would miss you so much.

Cara making comments with the words ‘wife material’ was only going to make this a million times harder.

“The two of you are cute is all I’m saying.” Cara shrugged.

Din grunted out a response which made his Deputy just laugh. He sighed and left for his office. It only took him a few steps in the hall before he heard Mayfeld’s voice. When Din got closer, he could see you sitting in one of the seats parked in front of his desk, Grogu in your lap eating, and Mayfeld was leaning against the front of his desk right beside you.

“I can’t believe you haven’t been to Jay’s place yet.” Mayfeld chuckled. “Best place to eat in all of Nevarro. No doubt.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, helping pinch off pieces of Grogu’s sandwich so he didn’t just inhale the entire thing⏤ a terrible habit his son still had.

Mayfeld shifted on the desk so he was closer. “They have some great mixed drinks too. Maybe I can take you some time.” Din felt his chest tighten in discomfort. A flash of anger mingled with the new sensation, and his hand curled into a fist involuntarily. “You free this weekend?”

Din took that as his cue to close the distance. He didn’t like the idea of Mayfeld taking you anywhere at any time. He didn’t even like the idea of Mayfeld thinking about doing that. You let out a light chuckle and shook your head. “Sorry, I’m busy this weekend with, uh, Mando. He said he’d take me to…the…lava plains?”

“Mando?” Mayfeld repeated. Din saddled up to stand in view and leaned against the open doorway with his arms crossed. Mayfeld’s eyes drifted over to him and Din could see panic settle in the man’s eyes. “Mando!” He scrambled away from you and nearly fell when he reached the end of the desk sooner than anticipated. “Hah, hey, I was just keeping⏤ I didn’t know she was⏤” Mayfeld motioned toward you then shook his head. “I’m gonna go work.”

In order to leave the room, Mayfeld had to walk past him and Din didn’t make it easy for him. He stayed exactly where he was, following the man’s movement slowly with his visor, as Mayfeld struggled to squeeze past him without actually touching him. When he stumbled out and hurried away, Din looked back to you who stared at him with a wide grin. He felt his irritation melt away at the look on your face.

“He’s nice.” You chuckled. “Also, sorry I used you as an excuse. I kind of panicked when he asked me out.”

Din shook his head. “That’s fine. I don’t mind.” He straightened his posture and hated how awkward the next words out of his mouth felt. “Do you… Do you want to see the lava plains?”

“It’s on my to-do list for sure.” You nodded. “I feel like every time I walk down the street I hear one of the droids advertising the plains and the hot springs.” You handed Grogu another bite of his sandwich. His child was so enthralled by the food that he was barely aware of anything happening around him. “Besides, anything would be better than going on a date with a stranger. Nima asked me to go to this singles event tonight, and I have no idea how she can go to those things.”

Din stiffened at your words then scolded himself for growing tense. You weren’t his in any sense other than employer/employee. Din had no claim to you whatsoever which meant he had no right to feel any shred of jealousy⏤ either with Mayfeld or with you attending a singles event. He was paying you to watch Grogu and, by association, paying you to be around him. Besides, it was foolish of him to think this wasn’t something that would come up. You were a ray of sunlight after a dark and stormy day. You were refreshing. A breath of clean air after months of stale hyperspace. Smart, funny, kind, caring. Not to mention gorgeous. Maker, Din would crawl across the sands of Tatooine, under both suns, armorless, if it meant he could just touch⏤

No. He had to stop. That line of thought was the opposite of helpful.

Din cleared his throat. “You and Nima?” He tried not to let any disappointment show. He steeled his voice with practiced ease. “Are you going out with her tonight? I know we haven’t talked about it, but if you need a night off…”

“No way.” You grinned then motioned to Grogu who was still happily settled in your lap. “I told her I was busy. I got a date with this cutie and some noodles.” You tickled Grogu who squealed in response, eager to play. “Don’t I, sweetie?”

Din was smiling like an idiot again.

Maker, was he in trouble.

#The Madalorian #good dad din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #protective din djarin #din djarin #green bean baby #grogu is a precious menace to society #cara dune #mayfield #peli motto #star wars #nevarro #maker im still bad at tags #that'll never change #slow burn #pining #nanny AU #nanny!reader

652 notes · View notes

jacesvelaryons · 2 months

Text

STATUS: REQUESTS OPEN

| get to know me |

rosie/ 20+/ love music, movies, writing, crochet, eating out with friends

limits: some hardcore non-con elements, r4pe, just ask and i'd clarify if i'm comfortable with it or not

my dm's are open as well if you wanna talk, or request!

| navigation |

ask me anything

| masterlist |

( to be expanded in a separate page when list grows more extensive)

tom blyth

spicy links pt 2

social media au's:

fc: jennie series

english love affair

valentines

wing woman

imagines:

(to be added)

blurbs/drabbles

(to be added)

coriolanus snow

spicy links pt 1

spicy links pt 2

imagines:

(to be added)

blurbs/drabbles:

(to be added)

billy the kid

spicy links pt 1

spicy links pt 2

imagines:

(to be added)

blurbs/drabbles:

(to be added)

jacaerys velaryon

it's yours

the reluctant empress

prologue

ch 1

ch 2

ch 3

ch 4

ch 5

lucerys velaryon

(soon)

daemon targaryen

(soon)

and more coming! request and i'll see if i want to add it to my roster!

i give no permission to copy, distribute, or translate works without asking. any characters belong to their respective creators.

©️jacesvelaryons, 2024

56 notes · View notes

wordslostforever · 11 months

Text

Couples Therapy | Final chapter

Final Chapter "This might just work for us this time"

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/fem!reader

Summary: When your marriage with Wanda starts to fall apart, you both decide to have a last chance by going to a professional, for your son's sake, and your own.

Warnings: 16+! Fluff, minor angst, suggestives jokes and sexual implications, kissing, flirting.

bold are your text messages.

A/N: Thank you for all the likes, reblogs and comments, I really thought nobody was going to read what I wrote out boredom (Just an excuse, I actually just love Wanda), so thank you so much.

Enjoy!

Ch. 4 "I never stopped loving you"

Word count: 4.8k

“Who are you sleeping with?”

Natasha’s voice made you frown, taking your attention off your phone to immediately give her a weird look.

“What?” You tried to play it off, but you weren't going to be able to, not with Natasha.

“I’m pretty sure you are not looking at cat pictures and smiling like an idiot for no reason.” Natasha explained easily, adding, “Besides, you are glowing. Like when you got marrie- Oh my god! You got back together with Wanda, didn’t you?”

“Of course not. You are so ridiculous sometimes, Nat.” You rolled your eyes, feeling your phone vibrate in your hand, biting your lip to try and not smile. “Can I just be glowing without a reason? Maybe I’m just happy that Billy got the main role in a play or that Tommy’s soccer team won.”

“Sure, you can be. I still don’t believe you though, but I’ll let it go just this time.” Natasha said, dropping herself beside you on the couch and changing the channel on your tv.

She was wrong, you and Wanda didn’t get back together. Not really. After that conversation that you both had after Tony’s party five month ago, you decided to give it a chance, but you both didn’t want to rush anything, less affect your kids with the idea either. You tried to keep it a secret from everyone, so there wasn’t pressure, nor judgment thrown at both of you.

“Who is Scarlet… witch?” Natasha frowned confused, peering at your phone notification that lightened your phone screen. You chuckled. “And why did she send a kneeling girl emoji…?”

“Nobody.” You answered, turning off your phone. “And stop reading my texts.”

“Maybe you should turn your text notification off.” Natasha said, before she raised her eyebrows with a smirk, pointing at your phone with her head. “Well, whoever that is, good for you.”

‘My knees still hurt from kneeling yesterday…’

You rolled your eyes at Natasha, opening the chat a second later to answer, reading the chat completely.

‘What are you doing?’

Scarlet witch: ‘kneeling emoji’

Scarlet witch: My knees still hurt from kneeling yesterday from trying to screw the water tube under the sink.

Scarlet witch: And now it is still flooding the kitchen with water.

Scarlet witch: I’m five seconds away from breaking the sink in half.

‘Do you need a hand?’

Scarlet witch: Please, I need your magic hands.

‘Be there in 20’

You looked at your side to see Natasha glancing, very blatantly, at your phone again. You groaned, turning it off. Natasha laughed at you, rolling her eyes with a small shake of her head. You stood from the couch, annoyed.

“Magic hands?” Natasha said teasingly before watching you scoff and blush. “Is it Wanda, perhaps, the scarlet witch?”

“No, and stop asking.”

Hearing Natasha’s laugh, you stepped out of the apartment. In the drive to Wanda’s house you thought about how you two started talking more often, even daily. Taking things slow was something you both needed and for some reason it was working really well.

Wanda had taken you on dates, and you had taken her on them. The silly dates at the coffee shop, the cinema and fancy restaurants. It was weird to think that every time you went out with her, you felt like you were in college, which was a surprise for both of you.

Things with you and Wanda were working again, and it felt really nice.

When you stepped out of the car, and walked to the door, you didn’t have time to knock before it opened, the twins coming out and hugging you.

“Mom!” Billy smiled at you, and Tommy grabbed your hand pulling you inside, while his twin closed the door behind your back.

“Look! We finished the costumes.”

You tilted your head confused, before Tommy and Billy stood in front of you, Billy had a foam shield in his hand and Tommy a sword. You chuckled looking at their hand-made jedi looking clothes.

“Wow, you two made those?” You asked, smiling at them and Billy shook his head. Tommy at his side swinging his sword.

“No, mom did!” Billy nodded, putting his hood on. “We don’t know how to sew yet.”

“Are we going out today?” Tommy asked you, placing his sword in his belt with dramatism.

“No, not today.” You answered them, looking at the frame door of the kitchen where Wanda was looking at you, hands on her hips. “A little bird told me that the kitchen was broken.”

“Oh, yeah, mom couldn’t fix it. And my socks got wet.” Tommy answered, and you were about to comment something but the sound of Billy's voice distracted you.

“I will bring you down, Thomas.” With a sound effect made by himself, he took the sword off his belt and pointed it at Tommy, who immediately followed his action, ready to fight.

“Not today, William.”

You laughed when they started fighting with their swords, making a sound effect on their own as they swung their swords at each other.

You walked to Wanda, trying to not step inside their battle zone. Wanda tilted her head at you, standing straight when you stood in front of her with a smile.

“They've been doing that all day.” Wanda said, turning around for you to follow inside the kitchen.

“Driving you crazy again?” You asked, looking at the sink and the floor covered in wet towels, meeting Wanda’s gaze.

“What’s driving me crazy is the f- the sink.” Wanda stopped the word coming out of her mouth, and you smiled at her.

“Are you sure it's just the sink?” You raised your eyebrows playfully. “Maybe I'm driving you crazy.”

“Just get on your knees.” Wanda pushed your shoulder down, and you fell on one knee in front of the sink and in front of her. She smiled with mischief before pointing at the sink with her head. “Please, detka, fix the damn sink for me, will you?”

“Always so demanding, aren’t you?” You rolled your eyes, falling completely on your knees on top of one of the wet towels, and facing the pipe under the sink. She kneeled to your side, looking at the dripping tube behind the pipe while you grabbed the wrench and placed it on the screw.

You tried to force the screw, with the strength that you had, but you didn’t feel it move, and tried to force it the other way. Wanda abruptly stopped you with her hand, shaking her head.

“You are going to open it and flood the kitchen with water.”

“It’s just a little so I can screw it close again. It’s stuck, that’s why it’s not screwing right.” You told her, and she dropped her hand from your arm nodding. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

You weren’t lying, no, but you miscalculated how much you unscrewed, because one second to another, you had unscrewed it too much, and the tube popped off and the water started to fall everywhere.

“Y/n!” Wanda tried to stop the water from coming out from the sink with her hands, but she couldn't do much, and you went further under the sink, looking for the valve of the water. You found it, and turned it close, stopping the water.

You laughed when you moved outside the sink feeling your back completely drenched.

“What happened?” You heard the steps of your sons coming closer, and the question being asked at your back.

“Nothing, mom just made a tiny mistake.” You said, smiling sideways apologetically at Wanda, who looked at you scondingly with her head tilted. “Would you mind bringing more towels, boys?

You heard the positive response of your kids before their steps were out of your reach to hear. That’s when Wanda’s hand punched your shoulder softly, looking at you with a frown.

“Couldn’t you have closed the water before screwing the tube!?” Wanda asked you and you winced, biting your tongue. “You said you knew what you were doing.”

“I could have, I just didn’t think of it until it happened.” You excused yourself, “And besides, having you by my side it’s really distracting.”

“Flirting won’t take you out of it.”

“No?”

“No,” Wanda stood up, not even trying to hide the smile that formed in her lips at your comment. She offered her hand to you, and you took it, pulling yourself up with her help. “you have to help me clean now.”

“I think the tube was broken.” Wanda looked at you, after you said as you mindlessly touched your wet back.

“So, you unscrewed it for no reason?” She asked, and you nodded, stopping yourself when you saw Wanda’s expression. “Are you kidding me!?”

“Sorry!” You laughed when she grabbed the kitchen towel and softly punched you on your side, laughing with you after. “Do you mind if I borrow one of your shirts? I think mine got a little bit wet.”

That was the first time in months that you all ate dinner together at the same table. And it made you feel at home again, watching your kids chat happily while you and Wanda heard them talk about anything.

You left when night settled deeper in the sky, and the sleep time for the twins was just ticking in the clock. You helped Wanda put them to bed before you went to the entry of the house, Wanda following behind and standing under the frame door as you watched her from the porch.

“Thanks for coming here to help me with the sink,” Wanda said, crossing her arm over her chest, trying to stop the cold breeze of the night. “Even if you made it kind of worse.”

“True, but you know, I had to try and impress you.” You said chessely and Wanda wrinkled her nose at the statement, cringing softly. “How else am I supposed to get the girl of my dreams?”

“You are so dumb,” She answered with a playful roll of her eyes, giving at step toward you. “You are my wife, you got me already.”

“Putting a ring on my finger already, Maximoff? What about a kiss first?” You said, raising your eyebrows at her, watching as a smile grew on her lips. She grabbed your waist softly, and you gasped when she pulled you closer.

When you saw her face get closer, and her hands squeeze your hips, you closed your eyes expecting for her lips to find yours. You were startled when she kissed your cheek, and then pulled you even closer in a hug.

“Would it be wrong of me to say ‘I love you’ this soon?” Wanda whispered in your ear, and you grabbed her shirt in her stomach softly and smiled.

“You said ‘I love you’ two months after we started dating. I don’t think thirteen years later is considered too soon.” You said, and Wanda buried her head into you even more. “I love you, Wanda”

“I love you too, Y/n”

******

Last year was really hard to handle, the idea of holidays and the birthdays for the twins were discussed between you and Wanda many times before they happened, and it also dropped the question whether it was healthy and okay for your kids to spend their holidays in separated homes, or if it was better to be together.

Co-parenting with Wanda wasn’t a hard thing to do, just because you two never resented nor hated each other to make it impossible for you to be in the same room together.

That’s why you decided to spend the holidays together last year, and the twins' birthday too. It was solely focused on them, and any problem between you two was out of the window the moment you were all together. And it seemed to work for you kids.

Now that Christmas was coming soon enough, and both of your families and friends wanted to spend the holiday together, there was no problem whatsoever with you nor Wanda. The problem was that you and Wanda were trying to date for a while now, and the idea of pretending not to be in front of everyone was a challenge.

Why you kept it a secret was simple, because if it didn’t work out, no one else but you and Wanda could get hurt by it, even less your children. Was it healthy to lie to your friend about it? Maybe not, but you didn’t make the best choices anyway.

Christmas eve was chaotic, it was celebrated at Wanda's place and the moment you stepped inside, chaos ensued. Pietro and Monica’s daughter, Luna, and Tony’s and Pepper’s daughter, Morgan, were already playing outside in the yard with the twins.

You and Wanda helped in the kitchen and everyone helped to make the dinner and fix the table. The evening was full of chatter between friends.

Nobody suspected a thing, or you hoped, because taking your eyes off your “Ex-wife'' was a challenge, and the way Wanda playfully scolded you with a look every time she caught you staring made it even harder. You really hoped that you didn’t look suspicious, because it was impossible for you to stop seeking the touch of the other when you casually met alone in the kitchen, or on your way to the bathroom.

Maybe you were being too obvious, but the idea of enjoying a day like this with Wanda, your family and children, made it so unimportantly. Maybe too much.

Most of the people left after midnight, letting themselves out of the house with goodbyes. Pietro and Monica went to bed soon after most people left, taking Luna with them into the spare room. You and Wanda sent the twins to sleep as soon as you saw Tommy drowsing off in one of the chairs in the backyard.

Natasha and Maria were the last ones to leave, not before making a complete disaster of your perfect facade with Wanda.

Wanda accidentally left her messages chat open after showing Natasha one of the photos Carol sent her from New York, where she was showing a selfie of the New York Gran Christmas decorated three. Wanda opened the sink to fill herself a glass of water.

“Magic hands?” Natasha frowned, and you swallowed harshly before you saw realization hit her. “Oh my god! You did get back together.”

You hushed her before she screamed letting the whole house know. You heard Wanda choking on her water and Maria smirked as she swallowed the last sip of her drink.

“You freaking liar.” Natasha fake hurt putting her hand on her chest, and then pointed at Wanda. “You too. How could you do this to me?”

“Nobody knows, don’t feel special.” You said jokingly and Natasha huffed.

“I’ll make you feel special when I put my feet on your ass.” Natasha said, and Maria grabbed her hand, smiling at the two of you.

“I’m glad you worked it out.” Maria said, and before Natasha could butt in, she gave her a kiss on the mouth before looking at you two again. “I couldn’t believe after all those years, you wouldn’t end up together.”

“Me either.” You looked at Wanda, and she smiled.

“You know, if I didn’t love you so much, I could have punched both of you for lying.”

“Natasha Romanoff loves me? Oh my god, it's full of surprises tonight.” You teased at the redhead, who tried to not smile at the teasing, failing miserably. "A Christmas miracle."

“I’m happy for both of you, really.” Natasha said, standing up the chair, followed by Maria who intertwined their hands together. “I would really love to stay to tease you about this, but I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep in the chair.”

“Thanks for the dinner, Wanda.”

“See you later, love birds.”

They both left after, leaving you and Wanda alone in the kitchen. You were about to leave too, but Wanda stopped you by the hand, her lip caught between her teeth.

You got closer, taking her lip off her teeth with your thumb before caressing her cheek shortly.

“Why don’t you stay?” Wanda asked, intertwining her hand with yours. “For the night?”

“Do you think I should stay? I mean, wouldn’t that be screaming to them that we are getting back together?” You asked unsure and Wanda thought about it for a second. “Are we ready to tell them about us? Completely sure? I don’t want them to get confused.”

“We got back together, but maybe… maybe we should wait a few days after christmas.” Wanda nodded and you nodded back. “You can still stay, and leave before they wake up.”

“So, I can enter again like I left?” You asked. “That sounds… I don’t know, Wanda, I mean, we are not teenagers to be hiding like that.”

Wanda pouted, raising her eyebrows in disappointment,“I want to fall asleep in your arms.” and with the statement, you smiled nodding.

You’d do anything she asked, just to see her smile the way she did at your words.

“You do like skipping steps don’t you, Maximoff?” Teasingly, you said making Wanda frown before you grabbed her by the waist, gently pulling her toward you. “Would you mind kissing me first?”

Wanda smiled before putting her hands on your neck, pulling you slowly until your faces were inches apart. Her nose bumped into yours before you moved just enough to let your lips join together. You weren’t sure why this kiss felt different than the others you had so long ago, why Wanda’s hands squeezing softly your neck and pulling you even closer made you feel drugged, made your heart race even harder when her tongue touched your bottom lip asking for permission. And when you gave her free pass and your tongues finally met, your senses blurred.

When you separated, your chest heavily falling by the lack of air, her green eyes showed nothing else but pure adoration and love. And you knew why it felt different.

It felt different because this time, you were feeling exactly like the first time you noticed that you were in love with her.

The exact same way when you said I love you for the first time.

The exact same way when you looked at her at your wedding, when you had said yes.

The exact same way when she held your new born child while you held the other.

The exact same way you had felt for her since the moment you met.

********

“I’m not going down the roof.” You said, shaking your head when Wanda pointed at the window with her head. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, why not?” Wanda said simply, throwing at you your shoe. “How difficult can it be?”

Putting your shoe on and tying the laces, you asked, “What if I break my leg?”

“Then you get a leave, and I take care of you.” Your wife smiled at you, raising her eyebrows in complicity. “Come on, Billy and Tommy are already up and downstairs.”

“Jesus, the things I do for you.” You opened the window, slowly stepping outside on the roof giving a short look at Wanda before turning to jump down. You heard her soft chuckle, before slowly getting on the edge.

It wasn’t so high, but you still hesitated before jumping down, landing on your feet and stumbling forward and falling on your knees with a groan.

“Mom, why is aunt Y/n jumping from the roof?”

The question made you raise your gaze from the grass to the couple in front of you, Pietro held a box in his hand, his expression was formed into surprise. Monica at his side, smiled knowingly, shaking her head in amusement before answering to her daughter.

“She is trying to hide the fact that she stayed last night.”

“But why?” Luna frowned, confused, before Pietro laughed at your embarrassed features.

“Because she and aunt Wanda are back together.” Monica said watching you get up on your feet with an embarrassed smile. “But they haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Are you going to tell Tommy and Billy, aunt Y/n?”

“I- Yes.” Nodding, you cleared your throat feeling your cheek heat up, before trying to change the subject. “Why did you get there, Pietro?”

“Donuts.” He said, rolling his eyes noticing your flustered state. “Don’t worry, there’s enough for you too, подросток-подражатель.”

He walked to the door, after letting go of the nickname, and you frowned following them three.

“What does that mean?”

“It means ‘teeneger wannabe’” He said, knocking on the door. “You know, since you like to sneak out like a teenager.”

You groaned at his teasing, hearing Monica's chuckle. Before you could say anything, the door opened, Wanda smiled at the other side letting you in. She stopped you by the arm when you stepped inside after her twin, his daughter and wife, and the second that your eyes met, you saw the amusement behind her serious features.

“You knew they were there, didn’t you?”

“Sorry,” Wanda chuckled, biting her lip to stop a smile from forming when you frowned, shaking your head at her. “I couldn’t miss the opportunity.”

“You do like to see me suffer.” Saying jokingly, you smiled, watching Wanda’s smile form in her features. “I love you.”

“I lov-”

“Mom!” Tommy cutted her off, running to grab your hand and pull you over to the other side of the room to see the present under the three. “Look what Santa brought! He ate all of the cookies we left too!”

“Wow, that’s a lot, maybe you've been a good boy this year.” You said, with a smile gently shaking his hair. “Where’s Billy?”

“In the kitchen.” Tommy answered, dragging you along with him to the kitchen where Billy sat on the stool, eating a donut.

You all ate breakfast together before opening the gifts. Everything was fine, you and Wanda felt the burn off your shoulders knowing that Pietro and Monica knew about the two of you, and when they left with their daughter, you stood at the kitchen frame, watching your sons play with their toys, feeling your chest fill with contempt.

“Hey…” Wanda’s hand hugged you from behind, her lips leaving a short kiss on your shoulder. You grabbed her hand on your waist before she moved to hug you from your side instead, to watch your kids too. “Today was nice.”

“Yeah, ignoring all the teasing from your brother.” You scoffed, and Wanda smiled at you, squeezing your waist. “I’m blaming you for that.”

“Huh, that hurts, подросток-подражатель.”

“Oh my god, not you too.” Groaning, you separated from her, crunching your nose at her teasing before narrowing your eyes at her cocky smile. “You better make it up to me or I’m leaving you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Wanda said, challenging you with her eyebrows. “You love me too much.”

“Try me, Maximoff.”

There was a second where her hands fell to her sides, her eyes filled with determination to get closer and kiss you like she wanted to, but the sound of plastic falling to the ground from the living room stopped her. You two looked at your kids, which now were looking at both of you, a frown in their features, and your smile faded. You forgot how clever they were, and how fast they picked up the words that left Wanda’s mouth or how the dynamic changed from last year.

“Hey, kiddos, what’s up?” You asked, forcing a smile when Tommy tilted his head, looking at Billy in question. You saw Billy shake his head, grabbing his toy and ignoring his twin. “What’s wrong?”

Wanda and you two shared a look before getting closer to your sons. Tommy picked his toy too, ignoring your question.

“Boys,” Crouching down to their level, Wanda called their attention, but they kept playing with the toys. “Mom asked a question.”

Tommy sighed, before looking up at Wanda, “Luna said you two were back together, but we didn’t believe her.” He looked at you then, a serious expression. “We didn’t want to believe her.”

His words froze you in place, and Wanda blinked a few times to process his words, before Billy added, fidgeting with his toy, “We don’t want you two together again.”

You swallowed hard, Wanda’s stunned eyes met yours, and you saw the hurt in her features as you crouched down beside her. Clearing your throat, trying to erase the bitter taste of your son's wish, you stopped Billy’s anxious movement of his hands and smiled reassuringly.

“That’s okay.” You said, and Billy looked up at you, surprised. “It’s okay to not want to see us together anymore, I understand that.”

Wanda seemed speechless at your words, confused as to why you were agreeing to it, but she nodded, following you. She grabbed Tommy's hand to comfort him as you grabbed Billy's.

“I know how hard it was for you two when we broke up.” You stated, feeling your heart press softly in your chest. “We changed a lot of things and I know that us getting back together is going to be complicated and is not what you want-”

“No, it’s not that.” Tommy interrupted you, shaking his head. “We want you together, it’s always what we wanted, to have you here with us, but what if you break up again?”

“Or fight?” Billy added, letting go of your hand. “We don’t want to see you sad anymore and leave again. I don’t want that, and if you are together, it will happen again.”

You felt your heart pressing at his words, the concern and fear behind your son’s voice, made Wanda shake her head and explain, “No, it won’t.” There was certainty in her voice that reassured you and the twins. “I know you are afraid of that happening again, but we needed time apart from each other to figure out how we really felt, to fix the problems that were getting in the way.”

Wanda sighed, trying to hide the tears forming in her eyes at the way her son’s looked at her, expectant of her words, understanding, “We always loved each other, a lot, but sometimes, other things get in the way of that love and they need to be worked out.”

“Did you work it out?” Billy asked, and you nodded.

“Yes, we did.” Wanda answered, now grabbing your hand, looking back at the twins with a smile. “I’m sorry you had to be in the middle of it while we did, but I promise, for the love that I have for you two and your mom, that it will never happen again.”

“Okay,” Tommy answered as Billy nodded, both of them grabbing their toys again. “Could you put the tv on, please? I want to watch Sponge bob.”

“So, is mom staying here again?” Billy asked and you frowned at him, in question, but he shrugged, “I saw your jacket in the morning.” He said, nonchalantly. “You never leave without your jacket.”

“How are you so clever?” You asked, surprised, and he smiled proudly placing his legos on the table.

Wanda chuckled, turning the tv on with the controller, “They've got my genes, of course they are clever.”

You rolled your eyes at her, before standing up and walking towards her with a smile. Taking the control from her hand, you left a short kiss on her cheek before taking out a box from your pocket and placing it on her hand.

“I forgot about this.” You said, watching her open it with curiosity, two rings faced her and she smiled, taking one off and moving her fingers for you to give her your empty hand. “I thought we might need an upgrade from the old ones.”

“Sure,” Wanda said, placing the ring on your index finger, smirking before letting the words leave her mouth knowingly. “You lost the other ring, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” You answered, pouting when Wanda chuckled. “It took me thirteen years to lose it.”

“You know, and after thirteen years you still can remember, can you?”

“What?”

“That you leave the ring in the bathroom and it always falls behind the sink.”

“Oh, of course I knew.” You said, smiling dumbly, “I definitely knew that.”

“Sure.” Wanda said sarcastically before pulling you towards her, skimming her nose over yours, whispering on top of your lips softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my love.” You kissed her after the words left your mouth, her hand grabbing your cheek to feel you closer as her lips found yours naturally, moving along with yours in a knowing rhythm.

That was the new start of your old love, a new beginning that you hoped would be the last one because your heart belonged to her, and only her.

And her heart belonged to you, and only you.

End

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #scarlet witch x reader #mcu fanfiction #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x female reader

370 notes · View notes

thatbanditqueen · 8 months

Text

No One Walks Out Ch 6

My boy my boy... it's been a long time, Becky. This is a response to the writing game prompt "You will love it." "I will hate it." "Nah, you won't."

Thanks to @whositmcwhatsit and @be-my-ally and @vintageshanny and @ellie-24 and @missmaywemeetagain and @from-memphis-with-love and @arrolyn1114 and for playing this game and supporting me as I write, thanks too to @ab4eva for just being an all around mensch....

Summary: Elvis calls Becky, or rather, watches as Charlie calls and asks her to come on tour. She doesn't realize this tour is not going well. But once she is there, she decides to just roll up her sleeves and jump right in. Because Elvis.

WC: 7.3K

Warnings: Swearing, implied drug use, oral sex. This could have been very angsty but it is actually a big ball of unpolished, fantastical, indulgent fluff. I wrote this today and didn't have anyone read it. So beyond typos, expect historical inaccuracies and probably mischaracterization of everyone, including my OC.....

If you need to catch up.... Chapter 5: Salty Lips

Chapter 6: Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire

6 pm Sunday, July 20, 1975

Geiler’s Hardware Store, Jackson, MS

Harriet’s key clicked into the back lock of her parent’s hardware store, and she pulled the handle to double-check that the door was, indeed, locked, before turning to look at her cousin. Becky’s mind was elsewhere and she stared down at her Chuck Taylor sneakers, raising her head only after Harriet coughed, and the two women made their way to Harriet’s small, yellow AMC Pacer. Becky looked out the window, playing with her hair, purposefully avoiding Harriet’s curious stare.

Keep reading

“Earth to Becky, where are you? You haven’t said anything about the date Ida set you up on Thursday.”

Becky pulled on the ring she wore on her right hand, a band of platinum with a diamond flower at the center. It was the ring Elvis had given her, and she could still almost feel the caress of his hand as he slid it on her and told her how beautiful she was, how she deserved beautiful things. That had been a month ago, but it could have been yesterday when Charlie, Billy and Jo had all been rounded up to drive her home to Jackson after a whirlwind week at Graceland.

Becky tilted the ring back and forth, then looked up to watch the businesses in the Fondren go by as Harriet drove her home. Why did it feel like cheating on Elvis to go one blind date. An innocent blind date. An innocent blind date that had fizzled out and ended with a very platonic hug.

“Ugh, he was nice enough. I don’t know.”

Harriet looked over, then back at road. “It’s Elvis. Ida says he calls you every few days.”

“Yeah, he does. He asked me to come with him for his show in New York. Then well, when I said no I guess he went down the list.”

Becky sighed, thinking of the photos in the newspaper of Elvis with a very thin, very blonde woman who definitely was not Linda. The thought made her frown, and Harriet looked at Becky with sympathy as she turned the car on to her parent’s street.

“I thought you said that you left things on good terms, and that he wanted you to move up there? I can’t believe you would rather be here in Jackson than in Memphis.”

“Yeah. I mean no. I like, him, I mean, I cannot help it. I used to day dream of dating this man. But look at me, Harriet.”

Becky grabbed her purse and got out of the car, sweeping her hand over her body to showcase her tee shirt and jeans as she stood.

“I’m not groupie material. And I can’t up root my kid and move to a new city just so I can join Elvis’ harem for a few months. We left things on good terms, but I don’t even know if I am cut out to be a harem member.”

“You are a knock out, Becky. You are totally groupie material. No, wait. You're better than groupie. You are at least favorite girlfriend number two or three material. I cannot believe you aren’t on your way to Memphis. Or New York. You only live once!”

Harriet grinned as Becky shook her head and sent her off with a bang to the yellow hood, before turning to walk into the house.

She was a greeted with a yell from Ruth, who was coloring with Ida at the dining room table. Becky could smell Saul’s pot roast wafting from the kitchen as she crossed the room and kissed Ruth on head, checking out her drawing of what looked like a dressed up mushroom in a pile of rocks standing next to Father Christmas.

“What do you think?”

She looked at Ida, whispering as she tried to decipher the words her aunt was mouthing.

“The mob-bit? The Hobbit! Yes, of course, it's The Hobbit. There’s Bilbo. Wow, Ruth, you really captured what I thought he looks like.”

“I’ve been practicing my hobbit form. And see, he’s talking to Gandalf.”

“Ah, yes, I can tell from the beard.” She had to stop herself from giggling at Ida’s wink. “SO amazing, you have become a very talented artiste!”

“Well, she learned from the best.”

Becky smiled at her aunt as she went to grab a beer. “I think the student has surpassed the teacher, I can’t wait to hang this one the fridge.”

The phone rang while Becky was at the fridge, and she watched Ruth run to get it as she slumped into the chair next to Ida, who reached over to rub her forearm.

“Oy, Rebecca, was the restocking that bad today? You should have stopped Saulie from leaving. He is only 60, he could have helped finish -”

“Oh, no, Ida. Unless Saul has an in-depth knowledge of waterbed installation, his presence wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“Why do people want to sleep in those things? What if they leak. Or break? I get sea sick just thinking about it.”

“I’ve heard they can be really relaxing. I don’t know, but there is a new waterbed store two doors down. The owner spent an hour trying to figure out what materials he needs us to order, so I guess business is keeping him pretty busy.”

“Can you imagine getting busy in a water bed?”

“Ida!”

Ida grinned, fluffing up her short, silver bob. ”I’m just saying, I couldn’t make whoopee on top of a big bag of water, oy vey, I’d be so nervous, what with the sound of the sloshing - “

“Wait, hold that thought, although you know I love hearing about your sex life.” Becky held up her finger for her aunt to stop talking, pausing to hear what Ruth was saying on the phone.

“How do I know you are really a friend of Elvis’? Well can you ask him to come over again? The kids next door don’t believe he is my mom’s boy friend. And he promised to take me for ice cream again.”

Becky strode over to the phone. “Ruthie, who is it?”

Ruth covered the receiver with her hand, a mischievous look crept up her little face. “He says his name is Charlie, and when I asked how he knew you, he said -”

Becky held out her hand, taking the phone from her daughter. “Uh huh, ok, that’s enough from you , chatty Kathy, go help Ida clear up the art studio and set the table for dinner.” She paused, smoothing her hair, as if Charlie could see her from the other side of the phone.

“Hi Charlie. What’s up?”

She heard a single nervous “ha” on the other side of the phone, and took a deep breath. “Well, a, heya there Becky.”

It seemed to Becky like there was a more anxious desperation behind Charlie’s perfunctory niceties.

“Hiiiii? What’s up?”

“Look, um, Elvis asked me to call and see if you might reconsider coming out on tour? You know he misses ya somethin’ awful, ain’t stopped talking bout that cute chick back in Jackson.”

Becky took a deep breath, thinking of the photos in the paper of Elvis and that model.

“Hmmm. I’m sure. You know I want to, but I have a kid, Charlie - and it’s her last little bit of summer, I don’t wanna leave her twiddling her thumbs while I go traipsing around the country-”

“So bring her. Priscilla brings Lisa all the time, you know, they make it work, Elvis is a family man, hon- I mean Becky, tour is not some wild orgy. You’ve been there. The guys, the band, were all like a big happy family.”

“One big happy family, huh? I don’t know.”

“I can hear it in your voice, Becky girl, I can tell ya wanna come.”

Becky sighed, looking as Ruth paused her place setting to look up and grin at her mother. Ida was behind her, eye brow arched up as Becky motioned her over, whispering with her hand over the mouth piece if it would be ok to take off for a few days. It was disconcerting how much Ida nodded and how quickly an excited gleam grew in her eyes. Becky shoed her off and carried the phone to wonder down the hallway so no one could hear her.

“Maybe. You really think I could bring Ruthie? How long would it be for ?”

She heard Charlie breathe a sigh of relief, and then there was a kerfuffle and the bang of the phone handle dropping on the floor.

“Hey Becky Butt.” Elvis’ deep voice filled Becky’s ears and she realized he must have been sitting there watching Charlie ask her. “Honey, I ain’t stopped thinkin' bout you since you left me. I need you, need you bad."

Becky started to blush, just at the needy, low tenor of his voice. "I have been thinking about you to."

"That's good baby, real good. Let's get you out here, see if I'm still the same as you remember. Can’t wait to see you, baby. Tonight ain’t soon enough.”

“Tonight? Uh - Elvis, I - Charlie said I should bring Ruth? Is that really ok? Is it safe?”

“Honey, I’m a black belt with a gun. Ain’t no safer place on earth. Hell, probably the safest place for your baby. You know how crime is getting in our cities. Bring her along. Charlie can babysit too, he’s basically a child himself. Got the brains a one, any how.”

Becky stood there, tapping her toe as her mind raced. Every bit of sense screamed at her not to meet Elvis on tour. She had just told Ida last week she was ready for her aunt fix her up with any nice single guys her age, in a conscious effort to try and get Elvis out of her system. Be a normal, responsible adult. Having, normal, responsible relationships. But now, talking to Elvis, all she wanted to do was give in and rush to be near him.

“Ok.” She whispered out.

“Good, good girl. I’m having Charlie run get Joe, fly ya out tonight. Go get ya self packed up.”

********************************

The Norfolk airport was pitch black when they landed, and if it weren’t for the lights along the landing strip, Becky may not have been able to make out Jerry’s scowl from across the tarmac.

“You shouldn’t have come.” His voice was clipped and terse as he grabbed her traveling bag, looking her up and down as she wobbled behind him in the high heel suede boots Elvis had bought her.

“Hello to you, too.”

“He said you were bringing your daughter, so at least you have some sense.”

Becky gulped as Jerry opened her door, and she flipped the sun visor down to fix her make up.

“Yeah, I guess… I um, changed my mind. I thought she would have a good time, but then, I don’t know, I thought the schedule would throw her off. And I guess I don’t want her to get too attached to him. Or the idea of me and him. This is all just a little fun.”

Jerry looked over at her, his shoulders seemed to clench with his jaw as he drove

“Fun. Ha. Well get ready, I think you’re in for more fun than you bargained for.”

Then Jerry pulled over, and his voice went from sarcastic to earnest as he turned off the car. “Or you can just say the word right now, and I’ll turn around, take you back, and you can catch a flight home. I’ll tell him you never showed.”

Jerry’s hopeful expression gave Becky a strange sense of foreboding and all the excited, giddy anticipation drained from her body.

“But Jerry - there are no direct flights to Jackson, and it’s midnight.” Her lip quivered as she pushed her lipstick back into its case.

“And I - I can’t afford to pay for a hotel and then all the connections I would have to make to get back home. Why are you acting like this? What happened?”

The drove under a streetlight, and Becky saw the bags under Jerry’s eyes more fully as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Elvis has been getting into it with the band all week. Kathy and two of the Sweet Inspirations stormed off the stage mid-show tonight cuz he was talking shit at them sideways.” Jerry looked over at Becky. “The big man can dish it out, but he cain’t take it. No sireee.”

He drew out his “sireeee” as he pulled the white Lincoln into a parking spot at the back of a hotel. Becky shifted back and forth during the elevator ride up, arms crossed in front of the white floral dress she had excitedly wiggled into with glee three hours ago, as Ida kissed her good luck, and Ruth had glowered, asking again why she couldn’t come. Now she felt ridiculous. Ugh, why couldn’t she ever listen to the voice of reason in her head that told her something was a bad idea. Leaning against the cool metal of the elevator, Becky kicked Jerry’s shin and tried to keep her voice light, positive.

“Ok, so level with me. Why is he fighting with the band, he seemed fine when he called me earlier.”

Jerry stepped away, grimacing at her familiarity. “That is because he is the master manipulator, and he wants you to come keep him company. But the last few days he has been stoned out of his gourd. More than usual. Cuz he’s in pain from all the performances, cuz he’s tired, cuz he’s bored. And he does not want to be on tour.”

“Then why is he?”

Jerry sucked in his breath and held up his hand, and a look of sharp contempt framed his smile as he rubbed his thumb and his forefinger together.

“Money money money, Becky! Linda needs a bigger apartment in LA! Dr. Nick needs a new house! Joe’s swindled him into starting a racquetball club! And of course he needs a different, gold plated plane.”

Becky swiveled in front of Jerry, looking him square in the eye as they hit the twenty first floor and she stepped backwards into the hallway.

“And what about you, Jerry, are your needs being taken care of?”

Jerry shook his head, and a sharp chuckle escaped his lips while he hung back and threw Becky’s blue travel case at her feet.

“Hmmm. I reckon you gotta from here, Becky. He’s in the Presidential Suite. Just down the hall.” He looked away, stating in a matter of fact tone. “Have fun.”

Becky’s mouth dropped as she watched Jerry tilt his head to the side through the closing doors, his eyebrows arched in a challenge. The elevator clanged shut, and Becky steadied herself, then opened her purse, as if all of life's problems could be solved with a tissue or some lipstick. There was the paperback copy of The Hobbit at the bottom, the one she’d been reading to Ruth. The one Ruth had shoved in her hands at the last minute, demanding that she call home and read to her while she was away. Becky smiled, thinking of Ruth’s big brown eyes as her small, stubborn mouth announced that she would be telling the neighbor kids all about how her mom was going to meet Elvis at his concert, even as Becky begged her not to.

“I guess if one good thing comes out of this, it should be Ruthie one upping those Ledbetter brats.”

Becky dug around in her purse, and decided to pop a tic tac in her mouth, the mint was refreshing, it washed away the bad taste her conversation with Jerry had left in her mouth. Then Becky took a moment to look herself over in the mirror. Ida had helped her pin her hair half up in the front, and her floral, cotton dress hung down in a flattering way from the embroidered empire chest to hang loosely over her hips before stopping at her knees. The suede boots gave her some height, and she liked the fringe along the side, she liked the way she could feel it dangle as she walked. She just had to keep her balance and everything would be fine. Looking at herself in the mirror, she blew herself a kiss and took a deep breath. In a moment of inspiration, she broken off one of the yellow roses from the vase on the table, and pinned it into the side of her hair, then strode down the hall.

She pulled on the ring Elvis had given her, once more finding reassurance from rubbing the metal over her finger again and again. But her confidence faltered for a moment outside the suite when she heard the smash of something being flung and breaking against the wall, followed by stomping and shouting. Elvis-like shouting.

“Fired, they’re all FUCKING fired. ‘Cept Myrna, she’s the only one with any sense a loyalty or professionalism. I don’ care if them other bitches come back here, begging, BEGGING, on their knees for their jobs back. They revealed their true colors here tonight. It’ll be a cold day in HELL before I take ‘em back.”

The shouting paused, and Becky leaned into the door to try and hear what the chorus of male voices muttering indecipherably were saying, before a loud voice, deeper than the Mississippi delta, bellowed back.

“Nah. Nope. I ain’t apologizing for shit. They need to ‘apologize to me, Felton, for not bein’ able to take a GODDAMN joke. There’s a hundred back up singers out there starving fo’ work. Who’d slit their momma’s throats for a chance to sing with us. Why don’t you do YA job and go find me some a them? What the hell I pay ya for? ‘Sposed to be producin’ this show, go produce some back up singers.”

Becky’s excitement at seeing Elvis again had now been replaced by a tense ball of nerves shifting in her stomach. Suddenly the sound of footsteps came towards her, and she jumped back from the door just in time before three or four men pushed by where she stood back, sucking in her stomach and gripping the wall as she watched them trudge down the hallway. Then she turned to find Charlie at the door, looking at her as his face scrunched from unease into a wide grin.

“Why if it isn’t Becky from Birmingham. Whatcha doin’ hugging the wall out here, Becky? Git in here, girl.”

Charlie stood back, and Becky braced herself as she entered the hotel room.

It was a mess, plates of half eaten food lined the table and bar, several of which had been flung against the wall, where mashed potatoes and gravy now dripped down the wallpaper onto pieces of broken porcelain on the carpet. Becky shivered, and then tried to compose herself as she looked around. There was Joe, smoking and pacing on the other side of the room, he turned when he saw her, unable to hide the disdain that grew on his face. She recognized Red and Lamar on the couch, Sonny hunched against the wall, but didn’t know the younger, skinnier guy with long brown hair.

Becky suddenly felt very awkward and out of place and brought her blue, vinyl travel bag up to her stomach where she could hug it for comfort. She smiled at Lamar as Charlie patted her back.

“You know the fellas, aintcha Becky?” She nodded, her walk stilted as she came further into the pent house. “The big guy just went to his room, but man are you a sight for sore eyes, he sure is gonna be glad to see you.”

Sonny let out a laugh, then stood up and walked towards her.

“I thought Jerry was picking you up?”

“He was, I mean he did, but I guess he - um - had other stuff to go do.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. By now I bet he’s kissed Myrna’s ass so hard his lips are glued to it.” Sonny rubbed his hands together, looking Becky up and down, and she hugged her bag harder at the resentment in his eyes as he went to pour himself a drink.

“Don’t pay him no mind, Becky, he woked up on the wrong side of the bed is all. For the last ten years.” Charlie laughed loudly at his own joke, as he guided Becky through the tense, silence of the living room towards the master bed room, where he knocked on the door to the old “Shave and a hair cut, two bits” pattern.

“I said to FUCK OFF.” Was the response, and Becky looked at Charlie imploringly.

“He seems - out of sorts. Maybe I shouldn't be here.”

Red snorted behind them, muttering under his breath that was one way to put it. But Charlie shook his head, whispering.

“Nah, it’s jus been a rough night with some a the personnel.” This elicited another snort from Red, but Charlie continued, undeterred. “He wanted to know the second you got here, trust me.” Then Charlie cleared his throat, calling out.

“Hey boss, guess who is here? It’s lil ol Becky! Just in from Miss’ppi.”

“Well why the didn’t ya say that in the first place.”

The door flung open with a bang to reveal Elvis, still wearing the blue jumpsuit with the silver zebra pattern rising on either side of his chest. A matching zebra patterned belt was at his waist and his hands held an old fashioned looking quilt in patriotic red, white and blue around his shoulders, like the comfort blanky Ruth still slept with sometimes.

Becky immediately dropped her bag and went to him, cupping his face with her hands as she looked up into his eyes. In spite of all the shouting, the gruff stance, he looked like a wounded puppy. She would whatever she could to take all the pain out of his eyes and hold him until he knew that everything was alright.

The side of her pinky crested against a taut choker, as she shook her head at the dark make-up smudged around his eyes. His lips pursed together at the center as he looked down sheepishly, like a little boy, biting his lip as his hands let the quilt drop to the floor and found her waist.

“Are you cold, Elvis?” She asked, looking at the quilt.

“What, oh that? Nah honey, someone gave it to me at the show and I like." He exhaled slowly through his nose. "Aww Becky, is it good to see you.”

Elvis picked her up and swung her around, bouncing her against his slight belly. His face lit up, and Becky could almost swear he wiped a tear from his eye as he placed her down and drew her into his side, walking her out to the living room.

“Now, this is what a good gal looks like, a loyal gal. Drop ev’ry thin when her man needs her. Man ‘o man, baby. You look like an angel, sent from heaven. How’d I get so lucky, have an angel come visit me, huh?” He grinned, looked at the others before kissing the top of her hair with gusto, so much so that his chin knocked the rose out of it, and then he accidentally stepped on it when he moved to pick it up. Elvis bent at his knees, wobbling as he tried to gathered up all the petals, his voice was high and babyish.

“Aw, no no no no. I’m sorry baby, I trampled all ova ya pretty flower.”

Then he dropped it an octave yelling forcefully.

“Charlie - boy, where’d that dumb ass go.” Before he had even finished uttering the words dumb ass, Charlie was there, chuckling as if Elvis and he were two frat boys yanking each other’s chain. Instead of master and trained dog, Becky mused, then pushed the thought from her mind.

“Charlie, run out and get Becky some fresh roses -”

Becky bent down next to Elvis on the carpet and stilled his hand to pull him back up, notching herself under Elvis shoulder as she turned to Charlie.

“Don’t you dare, Charlie. I just stole it on my way in, I can always go get another one.” Then she leaned up on her tippy toes and kissed Elvis’ cheek. “It’s a sweet thought, though. You’re sweet a sweet boy. Thanks for inviting me to join you, wished I hadn’t missed the show.”

Then she ran her fingers through the sweaty matted hair at his temple, stroked out the sticky hairspray that had kept his coiffed, high pompadour in place. Elvis’ blue eyes locked with hers and his whole body softened.

“S’ok, honey, probably all for the best. Was a sorry ass excuse for a show anyway.”

Becky trailed her fingers lower, over his chin and down along his chest hair.

“Impossible.” She whispered into the crease at his armpit, nuzzling her nose against the edge of his shoulder.

He didn’t even break eye contact as she looked back into his face as he lifted his right hand out and waved the guys off.

“Alright, boys, dismissed.”

Becky smooshed her face back into his armpit, rather than watch the parade of angry, middle aged men depart. Just before he left, she heard Charlie start to say good night and how nice it was to see her, when Elvis yelled for him to stop making eyes at Becky and go find his own gal.

Then they were alone. In a sea of dirty dishes, broken plates, rose petals and one coffee table that looked like it had been turned upside down. Unless it was some sort of new modern design, where you placed your coffee on the marble slab face down on ground.

Looking back up at Elvis, Becky didn’t know what to say. The screaming she had heard through the door had terrified her., yet looking at him now it seemed so clear how tired and how much pressure he felt. Jerry’s words rang in her ears, and they summoned all of Becky’s stupid, nurturing instincts. She began to pull off his scarf, peppering his chest with a few soft kisses to sooth the heart beat she heard, running as fast as a loose rail car thundering down a mountain.

Looking back up at his face, she licked her thumb, without consciously realizing what she was doing, and started to clean up his eye make-up, and he started to babble about the whole world going to hell. But he quieted as she shook her head, and gripped her hand tightly, shakily. Feeling him tremble, she remembered how exhausted he must be. So she paused and led him through the master suite and into bathroom, when she sat him on the toilet, stopped him again from protesting that he was fine, with a finger to his lips. Then she took a wet washcloth, and straddled his lap to clean his face.

Elvis grinned up at her, and when was done, he clasped both her hands in his and brought them forward to kiss her knuckles, his eyes level with her breasts. She let out a gasp at the way he sucked at her knuckles, before she shook herself free so she could reclaim her hand and undo his choker.

“What’s the matter, baby boy, hmmm? What’s all the fuss bout tonight, huh?”

She soothed his forehead with her fingers, cracking her neck as she steadied herself on his lap. The texture of his blue, gaberdine suit was soft underneath her bare thighs.

“Ah, nothing honey, jus the doggone back up singers can’t take a joke. Walked off in the middle of the set, make me look like a damn clown.”

Becky steadied herself.

“I find that hard to believe. Don’t look like a clown to me. If anything,” she begun to unzip his jumpsuit, her hands smoothing over the cool sweaty, hair she found there as she pushed against his belly. “If anything, they’re the ones who look foolish. Walking off like that.”

Elvis' lip hung down, just the slight hint of a double chin grew there, before they widened into a smile, pushing the apples of his cheeks up towards her.

“Ya sweet honey, ya know that? Wait, whatcha doin’ woman?”

Becky giggled as she pulled off his belt, and leaned into smell his chest.

“I am undressing you, Elvis Presley. Shower time.”

He tried to dismiss this idea with a wave of his hand.

“Honey, I don’t need a shower.”

“Oh yes you do.” Becky rubbed her hands under Elvis’ jumpsuit, trying to push it off his shoulders. “When was the last time you took a shower, you stinky boy.”

He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Uh, uh, uh -”

“Ha, if it is taking that long to answer, it has been tooo long.” She jumped up, and went to start the water. Elvis stood, bringing her back against the bathroom wall.

“Think you can come in here, and order me around, huh?” He smirked. “I like how I smell. Smell like a man. S'natural, s'way God made me.”

“Good little boys.” Becky worked her hands back under his suit. “Who take good little showers.” She got the fabric off the side of his shoulders. “Get good little rewards.”

He stilled her hands, enveloping her with his scent, a staunch mix of sweaty musk doused with a bottle or two of brut. Becky wrinkled her nose.

“And what about bad little boys who do what they want, huh?”

She threw her arms around his neck. “They get loved on until they learn to behave.” And she began to kiss his chest and neck with a swift barrage of pecks.

“Alright, alright crazy woman. What’s my reward, then, huh?”

Becky pulled her dress off with a speed that made Elvis' head spin, but before he could make a snarky remark, she bent over to take off her boots, and all he could do was stare at her bottom as she motioned for him to unclasp her bra.

“Your reward is me. In the shower. Washing you.”

Becky giggled self consciously as she took Elvis’ hands and drew him into the shower. She didn’t know where her chutzpah had come from, all she knew was that when she was with him, she was a woman transformed. Her walls came down, and she wanted to be as close as possible to him, do whatever she could to put him at ease. Being around Elvis had warped her entire way of thinking.

The way his smirk rippled across his cheeks as he watched her lather up a wash cloth and start scrubbing over his hair chest made her tummy feel funny. Like she was about to jump off a diving board. She watched the soap drizzled down over his waist and down his happy trail. Becky swallowed hard, unable to stop herself from rubbing over it with her hand and wiping the soap into different shapes around his belly button. A triangle, a circle, a heart.

Elvis chuckled as he squeezed his eyes shut under the water, letting it rinse everything off as he muttered that she was a weirdo. Then he took the wash cloth from her hands and spread the lather over the top of her breasts. Back and forth, as if mesmerized. His attentive gaze made her vibrate, and Becky’s nipples became hard nubs. She pushed his hand aside, stepping close to rub the soap from her bosom against him, playfully.

“I think they’re clean.”

“Never can be too sure.” He pulled her closer, nudging his nose over hers as he took the washcloth back and began to caress her butt. “Just bein’ thorough. Wanna a get all my reward.”

“Your reward was me washing you, not the other way around.”

Elvis winked. “I’m renegotiatin’.” And he carefully turned Becky around so that she was leaning into the shower wall, while he slowly moved the washcloth over her shoulder blades, the small of her back, her bottom cheeks and the backs of her legs. His movements were so soft and tender, that they made all the thoughts drain from Becky’s head with the water. Her knees turned into jelly. And all she knew was the warm sensation vibrating up her spine and tingling between her legs.

It was 3:45 am when they finally collapsed into the master suite’s large, king bed in matching pajamas. Becky could rest assured that every part of her body was clean, and while she hadn’t scrubbed him behind his ears, she had done her best with Elvis.

He had taken the cute, sexy pink fluffy negligee she had brought to sleep in from her hands, and thrown it in the trash, reiterating that just because they were on the road, they were never safe from commie drug dealers. Arsonists. Assassins. Any number of dangerous threats that could result in an instant need to evacuate the hotel.

“Trust me, Becky, you’ll be greatful ya wearing something decent if that happens.”

Becky rolled her eyes, saying to herself that Elvis was worse than her grandmother. But she obliged and reasoned that Elvis’ pajamas were probably more comfortable than the gauzy peignoir she had brought. The she settled back, watching him take his medication from the black, doctor’s bag, before folding her arms around him when he snuggled up and lay his head on her breasts, murmuring to her in a low, babying tone.

“Aw Becky, don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t come.”

She stroked his soft, dyed hair, shhhing him as she smiled to her self at the hint of grey she saw at the peak of his right side burn.

“You’d be fine, you always are.”

“Nah, honey, none a these fools love me for who I really am. None of them would be here if it weren’t for the money.”

“That’s not true, your friends love you. They’ve known you all your life.”

“Nah uh, they don’t, baby. No one loves me. You might be the only one in the whole world who doesn’t want anything from me. Won’t take my goddamn money, even when I mean it as a gift. Because I do love givin’ gifts.”

Becky trailed her fingers across Elvis’ forehead, enjoying the way his warm skin felt under her knuckles. “I know you do. You really do.”

“But no one appreciates it, they just want more. Won’t be happy til they suck me dry. Ugh, I don’t know if I can even sleep, so keyed up about the band.”

Becky kissed his forehead, as an idea percolated, and she rose from the bed to grab The Hobbit from her purse.

“Here, why don’t I read to you, take your mind off things?”

Elvis’ took the book ins hand. “This the book Spock was singing about?”

Becky giggled, thinking of Leonard Nimoy’s record few years back. “I believe the song you are referring to is ‘The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins.’ And yes, it was inspired by this book. But I know you've heard of The Hobbit, Elvis. Have you ever read it?”

Elvis shook his head, but before he could protest that he didn’t read children's books, she brought his head back to her bosom and began reading it, doing the voices the same way she did with Ruth. They passed out at some point in the “Roast Mutton” chapter, after pausing from time to time debating what their hobbit names would be.

“I think you are probably too tall to be a hobbit, Elvis, probably more an elf. Your name is practically the same as their language.”

“Well, that don’t make sense, no one names their kid after a language. English. Spanish. This is ma son, German. So then, what do you ’spose my elf name would be?”

Becky yawned. “I guess that will be our proooooject over the next few days, figure out what our hobbit and elf names are.”

“Guesss sooooooo.” Elvis yawned back.

**********************************************************

Becky found her paperback copy of The Hobbit open and smashed between them where Elvis had fallen asleep with his head on top of her chest. Several pages were bent back, and she tried to get them straight by bending them the other way, before deciding to put the lamp on top of it with the hope it would weigh them back into place. The room was still so dark, it surprised her to see that the clock read one p.m. It had been five or six when they passed out, and Becky could hardly believe how quickly she adapted back to Elvis’ schedule.

Looking down at him, she returned to cuddle into him, thinking how sweet he looked with his mouth wide open, asleep, completely unperturbed about the weight of the world that he carried on his shoulders. Then, as she shimmied her legs next to his, she felt the distinct, outline of an erect penis. I guess he slept well, she thought, and suddenly felt an aching tingle light up between her legs and a naughty thought enter her mind. Becky bit her lip, wondering how to wake him up without making it obvious. She began to nestle her knee into his cock, then blow air over his eyelids, faintly at first as she watched his long eyelashes flutter and waited to see if it woke him. When he remained asleep, she blew harder, emptying her lungs, until she saw his eyelids move and he opened one eye, with a blank, confused, slightly drugged out stare. This prompted her to plop back, not so stealthily, and pretend to be asleep herself. She also stopped moving her knee over his penis. Sleeping people don’t do that.

“Ha, now watcha think ya doin, Becky Butt?”

Elvis narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. A chuckled escaped Becky’s mouth, and her hand replaced her knee to slowly sweep over the outline of Elvis’ length, teasing his tip with the swirl of her thumb. Elvis seemed to instinctively move back up against the pillows, while also trying half-heartedly to swat away her hands from his pajama bottoms as she moved her head to his crotch.

“Now, honey, you’re a good girl, good girls don’t do that.”

Becky pulled at his waist, leaning down to nuzzle against the silk over his thigh, looking up and batting her lashes.

“Baby, you’ve been so stressed out, this tour got you all worked up. I’m just trying to help you relax and clear your head, so you can figure out what you want to do about your band.”

Elvis released her hands from where he had stopped them at his pants, and flopped back against the head board, resigned and moaning as her hand feathered over him. He closed his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling and muttered, “Lord have mercy. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

Becky did a wiggly, little triumphant dance as Elvis shook his head, grinning as she pulled his pants down and very slowly and reverently bent down to kiss the tip, savoring the way his breath became heavier as she did. He bit his lip watching her look at him as she swirled her tongue around his foreskin where it now crested back above the head. In a leisurely, affectionate way, she moved her tongue hesitantly around him, using one hand to loosely palm up and down his shaft as she sucked the tip once more. Kissing it delicately, relishing how sensitive he was, how even just moving her mouth down an inch made his leg jolt. She laughed onto his cock when his knee knocked her head, and she looked up to see a warm, boyish smile beaming back down at her.

“Hey now, be gentle with him. He's, uh, he's, ughhhh, he's shy.”

Becky smiled as best she could up at him with a penis in her mouth, and worked to just move along the end of the foreskin to the top of the head, waiting as he moved her hair to guide her forward. His gasps sent a sharp ping to her core and Becky realized that the sound of Elvis’ hushed pleasure was like an aphrodisiac that she wanted to chase. And chase it she did, hollowing her cheeks to bob further down, seeing how far she could go with out gagging, seeing what happened when his tip hit the back of her throat, savoring the feeling of how it almost choked her.

His mouth now hung open, and he let out a loud moan as she delved deeper with the next thrust. Looking, she saw that his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth hung open, the bottom lip shaking tremulously as she began to speed up her tempo, following her mouth with her hand and breathing through her nose as she tried not to gag when she plunged downward. Then she felt Elvis grip her hair with a tight fist.

“Ah honey, oh Becky, oh honey, Imma about to burst!”

She watched his face contort as she nodded her acquiescence and continued to move her mouth over him, possessing him and at the same time giving herself to him as he arched his back up into her and came with a loud, breathy, high pitched cry. He was tangy, and salty, and she looked at him with a seductive wink as she flipped her hair and tried to swallow it all, before gagging and coughing most of it out of the side of her mouth and onto the duvet. This performance was followed by loud belly laughs from both parties as Becky rolled over in a fit of giggles at her clumsy attempt to be sexy. She hid under the pillows and blushed when Elvis moved over, threw the pillow away, and pulled her onto him with a goofy smile.

“Ya sure are sumpthin', Becky Butt. Man ‘o’ man." He sighed, stroking her shoulder. "Haven’t done anything like that in a while. Prolly since last time I saw you.”

“Elvis, you don’t have to lie to me, I see the photos of you with your other girlfriends on tour.”

He sucked in a deep breath, taking her chin to look up at him.

“You mean that girl I invited on tour after you turned me down? Honey, she don’t mean a thing, just someone to keep the bed warm. Wasn’t getting busy with her, tell you that.”

Becky arched her eye. “Really?”

“Mmmmhmmm. She is pretty, but she don't turn me on, not like you, baby. You’re my little snake charmer, member? And man, honey, every time too. Something special bout you. Gonna need you to come on the rest of the tour with me." His arm dropped, and his eyebrows furrowed and Becky realized he must be thinking about the tour. "Fuck, man, gotta figure out what to do bout these singers, goddammit. I don really wanna train new gals to sing, with only a few nights left.”

Becky patted his arm. “So don’t. Just apologize.”

A nervous squeak escaped her throat when she saw his lips purse and his eyes narrow in disbelief at her suggestion.

“You don’t have to mean it! I believe you were right, they are being bitches. Baby, trust me, you know how singers can be, premadonnas. And they are women. You can’t win with us. But you can know in your heart that you were joking, and also do what needs to be done to keep the show going by mending fences. S’easier to catch more flies with honey, E.”

Becky felt like a traitor to her fellow womankind, as she felt fairly certain that whatever had happened, the back up singers probably had every right to be upset. But the end justified the means, right? Her reasoning seemed to have some effect, as Elvis' pinched lips released and he grunted.

She watched as he looked at her, and repeated "easier to catch more flies with honey" in a high, mocking voice, while he rolled over and picked up the phone, asking the operator for Joe’s room. “Get Lowell on a plane, tell him to bring everything in the store. I don’t care, jack, do you work for my daddy? No, that’s what I thought, huh. Yeah, Imma have Felton take it all over to the girls, to everyone, tell them I know things got outta hand this week, let’s leave it in the past. Oh, and I wanna get Myrna a new Caddy, so she knows what loyalty means to me.”

Elvis was patting Becky’s thigh as he did this, his fingers playing a rhythm only he knew. But it made Becky feel special, needed, close to him, and she found a strange contentment just being there, receiving the song his body was tapping out. After he hung up, he called room service and asked them to send two of everything from the breakfast menu, explaining he didn’t care if it was 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

“Ever been Asheville, ha, honey?”

“MMmhmmm. No, can't say I have. Guess we'll have a few days there to figure out what our hobbitses names are.”

“Already know what your’s is. Becky Bobbit.” He grinned wide at her quizzical face. “Cuz you bobbit so good on my nobbit.”

Becky hit him as he burst into a fit of giggles. “Dirty, nasty, mean man.”

“Awww, honey, s’compliment. Wanna keep you round with me always, my lil bobbit hobbit.”

“Ha.”

“Comin’ to Memphis after the tour?”

“Elvis - I -”

“I thought we were talkin’ bout getting you moved up there. You will love it."

“I will hate it.”

“Nah, you won’t.”

“Hmmm, you might be sick of me after the next few days.”

Elvis squeezed his arm around her tighter, looking down at the stain on the duvet, and then back at her with a silly smile.

“Nah, I won’t.”

***************************************************

For fun...

youtube

Thanks for reading.... argh. Let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. Comments, reblogs and feedback are very much loved and appreciated.

taglist:

@tacozebra051 @richardslady121 @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @searchingforgravity @sharebearkk @18lkpeters @elvispresleywife @moonchild-daniella @bisexualwvtson @eliseinmemphis @avengen @father-of-2cats @j-v-9-2 @lillypink @notstefaniepresley @stylespresleyhearted @godlypresley @crash-and-cure @doll-elvis @beeandheroddobsessions @misspresley @yanderereader @alqvarde @yynneessmons @kendralavon7 @daffieapple @louisejoy86 @flwrs4aust @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @leopardandstuds @burningloverdoll @butlersluvbot @precious-little-scoundrel @ashtag6887 @arrolyn1114 @stargirllily19 @amydarcimarie @joshuntildawn13 @ccab @artlover8992 @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #big daddy elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #no one walks out on big daddy #elvis fanfic #thatbanditqueen #Youtube

112 notes · View notes