#last nights shenanigans made me laugh so hard

[fandomwritingbit]

Sweet Girl pt.2

dad's friend William Afton x fem/virgin reader

Synop: William catches reader outside her house, he can't help but steal her away to show her something new.

Pt. 1 - here

warnings: creepy pinning lol, corruption, coercion (possibly dubcon I'm not too sure), groping, inappropriate relationship. William teaching reader things, smut (hand things Will and reader receiving).

A/n: tis hardly proofread my apologies for any mistakes.

To say he’s been thinking about you would be to put it lightly. Most days he sees you leaving the house headed for your work as he’s setting off for his own, he smiles at you knowingly, sometimes waving or beckoning you over, laughing when you put your head down and pretend not to notice him. It’s been nearly two weeks since the ‘incident’ in your kitchen and try as he might he just can’t get you alone. Every time he comes over to see your dad you are conveniently not there. It’s endearing to him, addictive even. It’s the chase that’s the best part, not that the catch will be too bad either. 

It crosses his mind as he rings the bell that he’s mad at your father for interrupting last time he had sweet little you to himself, but he sets the grudge aside, your dad is his way in and he needs to stay friendly. And so here he is, standing on your front porch with a bottle of whiskey to split with your dad. Fuming that the old fucker was making him wait out in the cold like some little kid on prom night, and he wasn’t even going to get his hands on you. 

Eventually your dad answers the door, quickly patting William on the back and letting him in for ‘one glass’, which definitely meant the whole damned bottle. To be fair he needed it after a long week of slaving away at his restaurant, before his sights were set on making you his little toy, the thought of a stiff drink was the only thing that got him through it. Especially when his wife and kids were at home, though that’s not a so much a concern anymore. 

~

The night, and bottle, goes fast, the two men talking and laughing together over highschool shenanigans and pessimistic comments about their respective marriages. But as his whatever-th glass comes up empty, William finds his leg bouncing with the need for a smoke, one of his many vices that has him at its beck and call. 

“You alright, fella?” Your dad asks, not sure why his friend has suddenly gone quiet and retreated in his own head. 

William’s eyes flick over to him, “Yeah, yeah.” He pauses for a second, thinking about what he wants to do before settling on leaving, “Gonna take myself off home, I’m dying for a fag.” He stands as he speaks, patting his pockets to check for his keys but also the tin of cigs he needs. 

“Ah the days of smoking, before the Misses made me quit. Miss ‘em everyday.” Your dad muses, the drink making him very thoughtful about the old days. If you were there you’d no doubt have made an ‘Old days of yore’ comment through that timid smile of yours, fuck he needs to get out of here and have a wank, get his head on straight, it feels like he’s been chasing your skirt for years. 

William laughs, “No you don’t, costs me a fortune. Right, I’m going, I’ll see you.”

“Yeah, see you.” 

~

You’re in such a rush to get inside your house after a bad day at work, that you struggle to find your keys nestled deep in your bag. You manage eventually though, pulling them out before completely missing the keyhole and slamming them noisily into the door. You giggle at yourself not sure why opening this door is so hard right now when all you want is to get inside and get that kettle on, some tiredness must be catching up with you. You fumble the keys again and this time they slip from your hands, dropping loudly to the floor, the key you need getting mixed up with the rest.

Your noisiness is what makes William reemerge from the side of his house, God he could do a fucking cartwheel at the sight of you right now, his sweet treat in another little skirt. The way you squirmed under his advance last time replayed in his head, just as delicious now as it was then. He watches you from his front step across the road for a moment before he makes a decision, not entirely with his mind, that yeah, he’s going over there, you’re just too tempting. 

He whistles yoohoo at you and you flinch, whipping around to face him, your heart jumping aggressively into your throat. You’d been doing so well at avoiding him, well physically. The mental image was there more often than you’d like. It felt dirty, the way he groped you, the feeling of his cock digging into you, but you can’t stop thinking about it, especially when you’re laid in bed. He’s literally the same age as your dad, a father himself, but he does not have the bearing of a kindly paternal type. 

You make the mistake of acknowledging him, “Hey, William.” Heat rushing to your cheeks instantly and the guilty feeling in your core he always elicited arising. He can hear the tremble in your voice, it’s so tiny he could have missed it, but he watches your body language intently and you’re dripping with nerves. 

He crosses the road over to you, standing almost menacingly at the bottom of your steps. “Hello, sweetheart.” You immediately get chills at his voice, it’s like he speaks directly to your core because you want to cross your arms and press your legs together to hide from him. He continues, “Been well too long since I’ve seen you, I was starting to think you’re avoiding me.” The grin on his face is knowing and he laughs at the visible guilt on your face. 

“Oh so you have been?” He snickers, voice thick with mock hurt. “Now why would that be?” You neglect to answer, he knows exactly why, but you couldn’t answer if you wanted to not through the intense embarrassment you’re fighting through. You look over your shoulder at the front door, a sudden thought of your dad being able to hear this exchange makes you freeze, so you move away from it, stepping quietly down the stairs. Another mistake, judging by the grin that spreads across his face. 

“You worried your dad will hear something he shouldn't?” He teases. 

“No! No… I just… I should go inside.” You’re babbling, unable to meet his eyes. Yeah, you should go inside, get yourself away from this man and his glaring sexual intentions, but you don’t move. You stay right there and rub the top of your arm lost in the sensation in your lower stomach. 

“Oh don’t do that.” His eyes raked over you, taking in the way you’re almost shrinking away from him. So pretty, so fucking delicate, just being near you made his cock throb. “Things were just getting exciting last time,” He shook his head, still grinning, “I wanted to wring your dad’s neck.” You glance at him, the harshness of that sentence making your stomach flip. Last time was exciting, just remembering the shameless way his hands slipped under your skirt has your panties clinging to your heat. No one had ever been that insistent with you, that hooked on you, it’s scary. 

You bit your lip instinctively, “It wasn’t- it isn’t a good idea.” You don’t know who you’re trying to convince at this point, you know the right thing to do is to walk away, but you don’t want to. 

“I disagree.” He’s chuckling as he steps towards you, the closing distance bringing the scent of whiskey and cigarettes to your attention, along with it a pang in your core. 

“You would.” You mutter, so quiet it takes him a moment to decipher the meaning. William laughs, your cheeky comment going straight to his cock, he’s going to teach you something else exciting tonight. He reaches down to take your hand and you let him, goosebumps lining your skin when he starts leading you away from the street, and down the side of your house, out of the bounds of the lamppost light. 

“I’ve been thinking about you, about your sweet little pussy.” He enunciates the words separately, the crude language somehow making your cheeks even hotter. He’s still holding your hand as your back touches the side of the house, again all alone with this man who seemed to radiate depravity. His gaze is so intimidating that you look down, now greeted with the bulge of his trousers, you almost gasp which earns a dark snigger from him which only intensifies when you look up at him through your lashes. 

He brings his head close to yours, “See what you do to me, huh?” He leaves the question hanging before speaking with an unusual sweetness to his voice, “Touch it, sweetheart. Please.” 

Your eyes widen and you swallow, an anxiety making your frame ridgid. “I uh- I don’t-” You start, your voice tiny. 

William’s eyes narrow, deja vu flickering in his mind. “You said that last time. You don’t, what?” Suddenly his hand is on your hip, sliding up to arch your back, simply revelling in how you yield to him, a perfect toy. 

God, you almost feel faint, all you can smell is him, all you can see is him, all you can feel is him. “...I don’t… know what I’m doing.” You confess, tears springing in the corners of your eyes at the embarrassment, only making him grin more. Oh bless your heart, you’re so cute.

“That’s alright, sweet girl. I’ll show you… just…” He lifts your hand, watching your face for any sign of resistance, as he guides you to touch him, exhaling with pleasure when your hand covers him. The sound makes your stomach flutter, you like being able to do that. So you feel him more, exploring his hardness nervously as you flick your eyes from him to his bulge. The hand on your hip slides down lower, taking a handful of your arse and pulling a small whimper-like noise from your lips. That pretty sound is enough to push him over the edge, he’s pushing you firmly into the wall behind you and taking his hand off your wrist to unbuckle his belt. And that clinking noise is something that's going to haunt your thoughts for ages. 

He undoes his fly, pulling his boxers down enough to free himself, his dick pressing into your abdomen. When you again reach for him, you’re a little taken aback, he’s warm under your touch and thick, thick enough that your fingers don’t meet when you wrap them around him. You know enough from talk and the internet to know roughly what you’re doing, but it’s hard to think straight with his domineering presence in front of you. Still you begin to stroke him, gently and a little hesitant as you still haven't found your courage yet, not that you think you ever will.  

“Here,” William moves one of your hands away, bringing it up between the two of you. You watch confused, briefly thinking you’ve done something wrong. But you catch on quickly when he spits lewdly into your palm, the lack of warning making you flinch. 

“Oh.” You say in some kind of unnecessary acknowledgement, letting him guide you back to stroking him, his spit making the action dirtier, but more substantial judging by the satisfied groan you hear slightly above you. 

He’s so lost in not only the feeling but how fucking filthy it looks for his cock to be in your hands that when you mumble something in that sweet, quiet voice of yours it goes completely over his head. “Say that again, lovely.” His voice is so low and thick it causes you to shiver. 

You hardly even noticed that you spoke aloud and you struggle to get the words out a second time. “I… uh- you’re big- I think-” He grunts at that, his cock and ego throbbing. 

He chuckles, a large hand cupping under your chin, thumb resting against your bottom lip and forcing your gaze on him. “Be careful saying things like that, sweetheart.” He warns, his grip not moving as you continue stroking him, your mouth opening slightly at the weight of his words. 

This is so crazy, your body is going wild with all the signals from him, his change in breath motivating you to quicken your clumsy pace. That pressure in your core hasn’t lessened, you rubbing your thighs together to calm it doing the opposite. 

“Fuck. That’s it, love. Just like that.” He speaks through his teeth, desperately trying to keep the little control he has of himself. That glazed look in your eyes, the flush of your skin, the way you’re pressing against him is going to make him cum, He brings his head close to your neck, his breath agonising against your skin, before he starts to meet your action, thrusting into your fist in a selfish effort to reach his end. And he does, grunting the word ‘fuck’ into your neck as his cum drips from his head, staining your shirt and trickling down the back of your knuckles. You moan at the sight, you just did that.

He laughs into the crook of your neck, bringing his lips against the sensitive skin there, his stubble making you squirm. You’re still in a state of disbelief when he moves your hands away, righting himself as much as he can, because shit, his load is everywhere. He laughs again, you poor little thing. 

“God, you’re such a good girl.” Some pathetic noise escapes you at that, those words doing something to your brain, it makes him smirk, of course you like to hear how good you are. “I see your legs pressed together. Are you wet for me, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer and that’s not good enough for him, so he uses his knee to press between your legs and separate them enough for his hand to slide under your skirt and trace the shape of your trembling pussy. You whimper, hands rising instinctively to push against his chest, making more of a mess with his cum. That sound is confirmation for him, “I’d bet anything you are.” It’s teasing and you can’t cope with that right now, you just feel desperate, as desperate as he was a minute ago, you need something that you don’t know how to ask for. 

You gasp when he pries under the fabric of your panties, “That okay?” You hardly register the question but nod weakly, for some strange reason you trust him. He hums as his fingers slide under the fabric immediately finding them soaked in your slick, what a sweet thing to get so turned on from wanking him off. William traces your entrance, restraining himself from finding out just how tight you are, there’d be time for that later, gathering your slick as he ghosts up to your clit. His middle finger presses firmly against your nerves, sending a jolt of electricity through you, you’re deaf to your mewls but they’re music to him. All that whining just from rubbing your clit, you’re going to sound so good when you learn what else he can do.

You hadn’t realised how tight that knot in your stomach was until he started a toe-curling pace of stroking your perfect spot. You’re so close to snapping already, wound so tight from all this that you’re gripping tightly into the muscle of his arms, to your credit it almost hurts, but he’d let you hurt him just to see how pretty your panicked frown is. And it is fucking stunning. If you’re not careful you’re going to bite through that puffy bottom lip. 

He catches your mouth in a sudden kiss that you can hardly reciprocate because you’re hanging on by a thread to your peak, desperate to reach it but a little scared at the same time. You don’t have much of a choice because when his ministrations quicken you fall apart, pussy clenching around nothing as you go through spasming waves of climax. Mascara now wet and sticking your lashes together with the tears that spring to your eyes. It’s so reality-shattering you’d fall if not from him in front of you.

“We are gonna have a lot of fun, sweetheart.”

pt.3 - here.

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf movie #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #fnaf william afton

[cumikering]

Werewolf Keegan x reader 7

2.3k | angst, suggestive Keegan was the common denominator (part 1) (part 8)

Keegan felt like he was losing his fucking mind.

It was a full moon that Friday night, but it had been long since he’d learnt to control his urges, and they were never about chasing or biting. Even when he felt “alright” the day after, he didn’t trust himself. He locked himself home that weekend, not wanting to find out what other shenanigan his body was doing to him.

Of course you’d texted and called, but in his panic, he barely wanted to talk, still ashamed of what he did to you. It was an understatement to say he freaked out. His short texts only assured he was alright, but couldn’t meet.

The week dragged on, unbearable, like nails on a hundred chalkboards. Instead of you, his hoodies and beanies you wore were his only company. He couldn’t keep you in the dark, hell, he always knew this. The dagger was his silent promise, but what happened made him think twice if it was a good idea that you were involved with him. He didn’t know what he was capable of anymore.

On the couch, as the TV played quietly in the background, he stared at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. Raider curled up by his feet, the bland takeaway dinner half-eaten on the coffee table. He lamented the past few months, that he got damn close to getting what he wanted. How it had perched in his palm, but before he could grasp it, it had floated away.

Perhaps it was just as well he never met your girlfriends, saved you the shame of being involved with someone like him. A weakling who couldn’t even tell you what he felt towards you.

“Guess it’s just you and me again, buddy.” Like how it’s always meant to be.

His phone dinged. He knew it was you from the custom tone he’d set. He reached for it, dread lodged in his throat from having to give you another sorry excuse when what he wanted to do the most was to touch you, hold you in his arms.

It’s obvious you’re not into this anymore. I would appreciate it if you’re honest so we can both move on from this.

He sat up so fast, his head spun as his heart pounded against his ribs. No, no, this isn’t how it’s supposed to end.

I’m heading to yours right now.

When Keegan got to your door, he was panting from sprinting up the stairs.

For the first time, understandably, you didn’t answer with a smile. You let him in wordlessly and he followed you to sit at the dining table where a huge bag lay. Judging by one of his jackets poking out of it, you had packed his stuff. His stomach twisted.

You stared at him, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so scrutinised, disgraceful. He averted his gaze to his clenched fists under the table.

“I’m not asking for a reason, but I hope you know what you’re doing isn’t fair.”

He swallowed. “Yes, I know. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I don’t want to be your second choice.”

He looked up at the wobble of your voice. “You’re not. There’s never been anyone else, only you.“

“Good.” It was your turn to look away, brows furrowed as you blinked hard. “Okay. Well, thanks for showing up.” You voice cracked as you pushed the bag towards him. “Here are your things.”

“Pea-“ He caught himself, sighing heavily as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t come here to say goodbye, but if you could hear me out… I’m not ready to talk about it, but something happened last year on a mission and I haven’t been the same. Last Friday, I got really scared when I hurt you. I’d never done that before and I’m terrified of doing it again. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I do.”

Your gaze stayed on him.

“I’m still into you. Fuck me, I’m still so fucking into you.” He laughed to himself. “I hated not seeing you, but I’m stuck. I don’t know what’s happening to me and I don’t know what to do. I’m scared you’d leave if I tell you.”

Your eyes softened. He’d missed you so much, your eyes, your smile, your voice. The past week had been truly horrible.

“I don’t know what happened, and I’m not going to make you tell me if you’re not ready.” You paused. “But if you’re worried my feelings would change, no, I don’t think they will, if you’re the same Keegan I’ve been spending my time with the past few months. Are you?”

“I am,” he said breathlessly.

“Then I don’t see what you need to be scared,” you whispered, a tear finally slipping.

“I never want to see you cry, peanut.” He knelt beside you and wiped the stray tear with his thumb. “Especially not because of me.”

“Don’t make me feel like I’m the only one who wants this,” you said in a small voice, eyes closed as you tilted towards his touch.

“I won’t, I promise.” He pressed his face onto your shoulder, arms wrapping around you. He felt like the biggest idiot for making you feel like he didn’t want you. “I’ll tell you what happened-”

“Just hold me.”

Later, upon your request, he carried you to bed as the heat crept up his neck. With the lights off, you pulled him with you when he laid you down, sighing as he finally tasted your soft lips again. Despite the dark, he saw your silhouette, the way you bit your lip as you lay bare for him, under him. You were hopelessly beautiful, the way your lips parted, the way your body shivered under his touch. Your hooded gaze made his breath hitch.

All for me.

He pressed against you, feeling everything he always wanted, your thighs soft against his hips. His chest was going to explode at the noises filling the room, the lovely cries of yours that had been a mere fantasy to him.

“My pretty, pretty little thing,” he panted against your temple between kisses as you clung desperately to him, your back arching.

He’d tell you tomorrow, he swore to himself. He wanted all of this and he’d get his heart shattered into a thousand pieces trying to keep it.

Keegan wished he didn’t wake up from the best sleep of his life for a few more hours, but the soldier in him thought otherwise. You were in his arms in nothing but a t-shirt, the comforter kicked halfway off the bed. His gaze lingered on you. With the early sun caressing your flawless skin, you couldn’t be more beautiful to him.

“I love you, peanut,” he said, voice barely a whisper.

He thought he saw your lips curl into the softest smile. He let out a small chuckle before pulling the comforter over you and that’s when he saw it. From your hip down to your upper thigh ran a set of tan birthmarks resembling scratches.

Just like his scar from that night.

Fated mates share scars and/ birthmarks… Rejection would cause the werewolf to stay in his wolf form permanently by the 8th full moon…

His body went cold. You were his mate. If he thought your addicting scent was an amusing coincidence, it was undeniable now with the scar you shared. He counted, that night he bit you was the 6th full moon since he first saw you in the woods.  The clock had started ticking long ago and he was none the wiser.

It dawned on him it wasn’t his imagination that his sight and smell became better, reflexes faster, that these bizarre impulses had been tormenting his mind as he neared his curse of eternal savagery.

He got dressed and left as fast as he could, being careful to not wake you. Back at his, he sat on the couch with a blank stare, Raider next to him, confused by his grave handler.

Am I dying?

Okay, no, he wasn’t, but he was turning into a wolf. He knew he said being a wolf wasn’t bad at all, but that was before you. Now he just wanted to be normal, to be with you.

What the fuck was he going to say to you? ‘Yeah, if you don’t return the feelings of the huge wolf from the woods who’s hopelessly in love with you and won’t let him bite your neck at the next full moon. Well, I’ll be that wolf forever and foam at the mouth from a broken-heart.’

What about his mum? His friends? ‘Last year a wolf attacked me in the field and I’ve been able to turn into one ever since. Oh, and because no one loves me, I won’t be human anymore so goodbye forever! Don’t come visit me in the woods if you don’t want rabies.’

What would he do as a wolf, nap all day? He needed a job. Would Elias consider a wolf a K9? If not, his deployment in two days would be one of the last. He’d never be able to hold a rifle ever again, cook grenades or toss flashbangs, or bark orders and scare the scrawny recruits.

What would he eat in the woods? Warm, raw meat sounded irredeemably revolting and riddled with pathogens. He wouldn’t be able to eat PB sandwiches anymore, nor his mum’s lasagna. It had been too long since he saw his family and had his mum’s cooking too. He missed them, and you hadn’t even met them yet.

It hit like a ton of bricks to realise how much he came to appreciate in the past months, how much he held close to his heart now. A striking contrast, when for years he gladly took risks, unattached to his life, ready to go to hell any day. But after you… With your laughter and company, the world seemed to not be half as bad at all.

Keegan was fucked. He didn’t deserve you. To have you return his feelings was too tall an order when you could have anyone. His chances were in the negatives.

But he had to tell you, even if you didn’t feel the same and he’d turn into a wolf next month. At least you had to know how he felt for you.

Consumed by his thoughts, he didn’t realise it was way past noon. He left without saying a word. Guilt-ridden, he reached for his phone to call you, but it rang in his hand instead.

It was Merrick, calling for an emergency shipping out. Immediately, Keegan packed and rushed to base with Raider. After a thorough mission brief and preparations, the Ghosts boarded the plane at sundown. It was then he realised he never got to call you. A text would have to do for now.

Peanut, I’m shipping out right now. I’m sorry I didn’t get to say bye. I’ll call you the first chance I get.

Close to 24 hours later, he finally made it to the safe house, but no message was waiting for him. He must have upset you for leaving. It was his fault for bailing whenever he panicked. He sat outside in the chilly night next to Raider and called you. Despite multiple attempts, they all went straight to voicemail. He sighed and the pooch licked his hand as if to soothe his handler.

Call me back, peanut. I miss you.

Another day passed and there was still nothing from you. He checked – the reception was good enough. His calls went to voicemail again.

Still waiting to hear from you. Please reply?

On the third night, still empty-handed, he borrowed Ajax’s phone. When asked what for, he glared at his friend who immediately dropped his teasing smile and averted his gaze. He dialled your number as his heart raced, clutching your handkerchief. He lingered before pressing call, dreading to confirm his suspicion. The call went through although unanswered.

You’d blocked him. It sent a pang to his chest. He understood what it looked like. After giving you the cold shoulder for a week, apologising and spending the most memorable night with you, he was gone again without a word before you even woke.

He realised he was the bad guy here, the fool too fucking stupid for his own good. He saw it now. He was the common denominator of all his failed relationships after all.

He tossed Ajax’s phone back to him, not caring that it landed on his ribs making him wince.

“Why, did you get dumped?”

He had no energy to respond. With a heavy sigh, he buried his face in his pillow. The lump in his throat sat uncomfortably. He wanted to scream, to go home and fix all this with you.

In his rush to leave, it slipped his mind to pack anything apart from your gift which he always kept with his gear on base. It had been months since you’d handed it to him, and despite his better sense of smell, there wasn’t much at all to satisfy the ache, his craving for you. He could only bare a few days without your scent – he knew the buzzing would be back soon and it was going to be torture.

He prayed he could hold on until the end of the mission. He had to, to not lose his shit and land himself in more trouble. Your gift would have to do.

Days later, when evac arrived at the LZ, Keegan was near to tears at the thought of finally finishing the mission, even that he had no idea what kind of mess was waiting for him at home. He was going to make things right, once and for all.

His relief was short-lived. As Raider jumped onto the helo, a bullet made home in the K9.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy @astraluminaaa @shadowlali @eve-lie @reelovesfictionalmen @writeforfandoms

#call of duty #cod #cod fanfic #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x you #cod x you #call of duty angst #cod angst #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #keegan russ #keegan p russ #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ x reader #keegan p russ x you #keegan russ x you #cod keegan #keegan russ angst #werewolf #werewolf angst #werewolf au

[kitthepurplepotato]

MWRMI PART 8

Week 4 Part 2 - The Hero Con! 👾

Summary: Y/N goes to the Hero con with her favorite hero by her side. Jirou wants to have “THE talk.” Midoriya can’t hide his feelings anymore and almost makes a “mistake.” Kacchan is done with Deku’s shenanigans.

Warnings: Swear words, a little bit of jealousy, disgusting amount of fluff!

First Part Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“It’s finished!” You jump up excitedly after sitting in one place for several hours so you can finish your last commission right before midnight; now that your weekly work is done you’ll be able to enjoy the convention and spend your hard earned money on Deku merch.

Also, pro hero Deku will have a signing booth, you can’t wait to meet him in person and tell him how much you love him!

Actually, scratch that, you’ll grow some balls and ask him for a picture together. Yeah.

But wait…

You live with pro hero Deku.

He’s literally sitting on the sofa in the living room, watching an old All Might movie, waiting for you to cuddle up next to him as you always do.

Maybe you should just stay home. The tickets were extremely expensive this year and you literally know everyone you want to meet in person by now. The tickets are also refundable so it won’t be a problem to get your money back.

“What made you frown like that, sweet pea?” Midoriya places a hand on your shoulders, making you jump; when did he come over?! He was watching a movie just a second ago!

“I just realized how much money I spent on the tickets when I can see you guys any time for free. Sometimes, I forget I live with pro hero Deku.” You sigh, looking up at your favorite hero. He’s wearing an old All Might shirt and he looks absolute adorable as always. His hair is really messy, he probably forgot to comb it again. You really like this side of him, the one who doesn’t care about appearances, you really have no idea why you payed so much money to see him in a hero costume when you prefer him this way anyway.

The hero smiles at you, making your insides turn upside down at how fond and loving his smile is.

“Well, there will be an exclusive interview with me and Dynamight. Then there’ll be a lot of cool booths with fan-made comics…”

“Doujinshi.”

“That, yeah.” He nods. “Then… well… I’ll be there looking cute and sexy.”

“You are always cute and sexy.” You mumble with a pout, not convinced. Midoriya blushes and looks away while biting his lips… oh damn, this should be illegal. You’ll never be able to forget this face. You really need to take a cold shower. Like, now.

“Also, I would like you to be there… with me.” He murmurs, touching your hands for a second before pulling away. “I actually wanted to ask you if you would like to come to work with me? Be my helper for the day? You can get a refund on your tickets but come anyway. We both win.”

If this is how Midoriya’s face looks like when he’s asking someone to help him you don’t want to know how he would look like when asking a girl on a date. His face is about to explode, bless his little cute ass. Now it makes sense why the hero is still single.

“Will I get a backstage pass and everything?” You perk up, your eyes shining with excitement. “Can I get a staff discount on your merch?!”

“You can have all my merch for free anyway. Just tell me what you want and you’ll have it.” He smiles, patting your head fondly. You probably look like an absolute fangirl right now, but to be fair, that’s literally what you are and Midoriya knows that.

“OH MY GOD I’M SO EXCITED I’M GOING TO CRY MIDORIYA, THANK YOU!” You yell into the poor guys face who only laughs at your late night shenanigans. “Oh my god, I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Ahh, we should head to bed. We need to wake up early. Ahh, can it be tomorrow already?”

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

“You literally just said you won’t be able to sleep, are you okay?” Midoriya giggles.

“Do I look okay to you?! I’m having a crisis!”

“You are so bloody adorable.” Midoriya rolls his eyes but pushes you towards the bathroom. “Go and brush your teeth then go to bed. Come and see me before getting ready so I can tell you the plan. We need to get out of the house by 8.”

“Roger that, boss!” You run into the bathroom and close the door just to scream into a towel, like a real, mature adult.

You can’t wait for tomorrow. This will be the best day of your life.

~•🥦•~

Needless to say, you didn’t sleep too much but not even the lack of sleep can ruin your excitement; you are going to a convention… with the main star of the convention.

Like, what the fuck is your life, honestly.

Midoriya is already up, making his favorite fancy coffee in an oversized shirt and underwear. You try your best not to look… well, that’s a lie, you do look. His shirt is hiding almost everything anyway. Damn, those tights could kill a person.

“I hope this is not the outfit for the convention, have some decency.”

Midoriya jumps at your voice; he was clearly in his own little head, trusting the safety of his own house enough to not be aware of his surroundings. He looks over at your clothing; your pro hero Deku pajama shorts with a random, old t-shirt; nothing special, really; and grins widely.

“Well I hope this isn’t your convention attire either, I kinda want to be in peace, not chasing random horny dudes away from you every five minutes.” Midoriya fucking winks and you freeze; your heart will definitely explode if he keeps this up. You’ll never be able to come out of your room in these pajamas, ever again.

“Well, maybe I want to be praised by random dudes?” You snap back jokingly but the greenette’s eyes visibly darken by your words; his mouth twitches once then twice before his expression evens out to a normal one.

“I would prefer you not to flirt on the job.” He smiles, like he didn’t just try to kill you with his eyes just a second ago. What the heck was that about? “Oh, talking about our attire, I have something for you!” The green haired hero perks up and runs into his room to give you a neatly folded clothing item in a greenish color. When you open it up, you almost burst out crying. It’s Deku’s famous first hero costume; It has more patches than original fabric, it’s well-loved and definitely well-used, a lot smaller than the hero in front of you.

“But isn’t this supposed to be in the hero museum?” You ask, a little bit confused.

“The one in the museum is the first official one made by UA. This was my first ever hero uniform, my mom got it made for me when I got in. She tried her best to patch it up every single day but after a while I had to get a more durable one. It’s not suitable for fighting villains but it’s still wearable.” Midoriya smiles and you can’t even hide the happy tears trailing down your cheeks. “I want you to wear it today, Y/N.”

That’s it. This is how you die. You are incapable of saying anything so you just jump into the hero’s arms, hoping your feelings will come through the embrace without the need for words. Midoriya’s arms snake around your waist, pulling your body close, squeezing relentlessly; there is a hint of possessiveness in his movements but you definitely don’t mind; the feeling of being needed runs through your veins as you squeeze back with the same fervor, unsaid words swirling around you like tiny butterflies on a warm spring day.

“We should probably get ready.” Midoriya murmurs into your ears, his voice traveling through your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake; he says that but he pulls you closer, not letting you go yet. After a few seconds his hold loosens and you slowly get out of his embrace; you already miss the warmth around your waist but you know this isn’t the last time you get a hug from him so you skip to your room to change into the most valuable piece of clothing you’ve ever had your hands on.

For your surprise, it fits perfectly.

~•🥦•~

“Do I look cool enough, Number One?” You come out of your room in Deku’s costume; one half of the mask piece was missing; or to be exact, it was blown away, probably; so you had to play around to make it stay on your head, but you made it work; you did a dark, greenish make up to make the whole look pop and if that’s not enough, you topped the whole make up look with some fake freckles. You had some extensions in pine green color sitting in your drawer, so you popped those in and curled them together with your real hair, ending up looking like a female version of Deku. The suit is a tiny bit tight in the chest area as it wasn’t made to be worn by girls, but it’s really not that bad all together.

Your words are met with absolute silence, the only sound in the room is the sound of Midoriya swallowing hard. He looks a bit constipated but you decide not to make a joke out of it as he looks like he’s about to pass out.

“Wow. I really didn’t think it will look this good on you. You look stunning, Y/N.” Midoriya swallows hard again and runs back into his room. “Wait for me by the door, I’m just gonna grab my bag.” He wheezes, out of breath. You are a bit concerned for the well-being of your roomie right now but it’s probably just the stress, so you decide to wait patiently by the door for him. Your phone vibrates in your pocket so you quickly take a look.

— Deku’s daycare! —

Pikachu: Y/N’s wearing Deku’s old costume to the convention today, apparently she looks really fucking hot.

Pikachu: Oh fuck, wrong chat.

*Kacchan sugoi blocked Pikachu.*

Glasses 👓 : Ignore him Y/N, Zuku would never say such a lewd thing. He probably just said you look really lovely. I can’t wait to meet you today.

Kirishima: To be fair, he genuinely said “lovely” in our group chat with Katsuki!

Piggy 🐷: He probably messaged him by accident, everyone knows not to trust Denki with secrets.

Freeloader: I will make sure to remember that, Mina! I can’t wait to meet you, Iida-kun!

“Ahh, sorry, I was just messaging Kacchan.” Deku scratches the back of his head shyly. “Let’s go, Y/N.”

~•🥦•~

“I can’t believe I’m backstage!” You mumble as you take in the sight in front of you: staff members running around with random boxes full of merch while there’s a sound check happening on the main stage. You look out to the main area to see hundreds of vendors putting out their arts and comics, hanging up banners and talkers to promote their work. The backstage area is full of heroes, flexing in their fancy hero costumes, getting ready for their interviews and signing sessions. Jirou locks her eyes with you and comes over; Deku leaves your side after leaving a kiss on the top of your head, making you a flushed mess with his affectionate deeds.

“Hey bestie… can we talk?” Jirou smiles but by the look in her eyes, it’s something serious. You nod silently as she leads you to an empty room on the side of the massive backstage area; it’s filled with cleaning products and other necessities nicely lined up on the massive shelves. “You know I don’t beat around the bush so… what’s up with you two?” Jirou asks, her voice full of worry. “Whatever it is, I won’t be mad I’m just surprised you didn’t tell me anything.”

“Because there’s nothing to tell.” You sigh. “We are really close. I like him. A lot. I don’t think that surprises you.” You giggle with a sad look on your face; Jirou knows how much of a fanatic you are, there is no reason to hide it.

“No, it does.” Jirou speaks up. “Because we are talking about Zuku, not pro hero Deku here. I see how you look at him, Y/N. That’s not fanatism and you know that.” She reprimands while you try your best to hide behind the shelving system. “But that’s not what bothers me. Not at all. What bothers me is that Zuku gave you his most treasured hero costume to wear on a fucking convention. He likes you enough to do that.”

You really don’t understand what’s going on.

“I don’t see how is that a problem. We like each other. He’s a touchy-feely person who loves to make people smile. That’s all.”

Jirou rolls her eyes aggressively at your words.

“Yes, he likes to hug people but he doesn’t kiss them, especially not in front of the whole staff. But that’s not my problem. My problem is that I’m terrified you are going to get hurt. Seeing your loved ones after a fight is…”

“He came home drenched in his own blood enough times already, Kyou. I know what I’m getting into. Also, he doesn’t think about me that way so don’t worry.” You answer with your voice strained due to the stress. You really don’t understand this conversation.

“Y/N, you are so fucking oblivious I swear to god!“ Jirou yells. “Nevermind, just talk to me. Please. I want you to know I’m here for you if you ever need to talk about this. That’s all I wanted to say. This needs to be extremely overwhelming for you.”

“Thank you, I’ll message you more often. But if you’ll continue treating me like a fragile little quirkless girl…” your voice gets louder as the sentence goes but someone stops you in the middle of the sentence.

“Hey, hey, don’t fight.” Red Riot steps between you two like you can actually cause harm to the hero in front of you. “Y/N, I know this must be a lot for you but this is how we are. We are nosy and way too protective. We also talked to Deku about this the other day. We just want to make sure you two are okay. Not everyone is as good with this whole thing as you are, Y/N.” Kirishima looks at you with a sad smile, clearly knowing what he’s talking about. For your surprise, Jirou giggles.

“We weren’t fighting honey, we just both got a bit too protective.” She smiles and Kirishima nods, leaving without another word. That was weird.

“So what’s his baggage?” You giggle at your friend, the heated argument long forgotten.

“Girl, he lives with Katsuki. That’s enough of a baggage as it is.” She says with a fond smile on her face.

“Sorry for being so sensitive about this. You are right, it’s a lot. And it’s really hard not to love him more than I probably should. And to be honest… I do… love him… more. Duh.” You laugh self-deprecatingly, almost whispering while tears pool in your eyes. Jirou snakes her arms around you and whispers back.

“I would like to be concerned, but the way he looks at you right now, hiding being the door all concerned, I don’t think there will be a problem.”

“Oh my god, do you think he heard what I just said?!” You freak out, not even realizing the meaning of her last words.

“No, he didn’t, don’t freak out.” She laughs out loudly. “Come in, you nosy fuck, it’s not manly to eavesdrop!” Jirou mixes Katsuki’s and Eijirou’s style of talking perfectly which makes you laugh.

“Eijirou said there is an argument and I…” Midoriya stutters as he comes closer, ashamed of himself.

“Yeah, you are concerned, we get it.” Jirou rolls her eyes, looking at you two with a knowing face.

“Actually, I wanted to thank you… for introducing us. I’ll make sure she never gets hurt because of my job and…”

“… and I’m invited to your wedding.” Jirou finishes his sentence with a straight face.

“Yeah, of course you are!” Midoriya jumps in, then pales completely. “Wait, what?!”

“Nice one, Headphones!” Katsuki comes through the door, giving your friend a high five.

“I can’t believe I’m friends with you assholes!” Midoriya whines with a bright red blush on his face.

“You love us.” Jirou taps Deku’s shoulders to soothe the overwhelmed hero.

“I really do.”

Well, you’ve definitely have learnt one thing today; privacy is not a thing in this friend group.

~•🥦•~

While the heroes get ready for their panels you look around at the convention for a bit; you already bought a handmade Deku plushie, a few limited edition hero figurines only available at this convention and you also managed to get your hands on the next volume of the My Hero Academia manga; it started as a fan project but ended up to be a big hit, supported by the whole hero scene; it’s a manga about the history of the current top heroes, it shows their past UA life and also gives the reader a glint into the biggest war of the past decade. After the first volume, Horikoshi-sensei managed to get noticed by all the heroes who were more than happy to give him all the information he needed to keep the story as realistic as possible. The newest volume is officially coming out in a few weeks time but it’s available for purchase on this convention way before its official release. You can’t wait to sit down and read it.

After a bag full of random shit you definitely don’t need you make your way back to your flatmate, who’s just about to start his signing session in one of the booths. You barely make it inside before people start asking for pictures; apparently Midoriya isn’t the only one who thinks your cosplay is amazing.

“Oh my god, you are so cute, what the heck!” A younger guy, around 18, comes over to you with a massive smile on his face. “Can I have a photo?” He asks shyly and you oblige; but for some reason, the poor fella freezes in one place as he stares towards the stage. “Actually, it’s fine, I just wanted to tell you how much I like your style.” He continues staring, so you look the same direction; Midoriya stares at the two of you, black whip dancing around him aggressively as he stops signing a fan’s poster midway. “Is there a reason why is my favorite hero trying to assassinate me with his eyes?” The boy wonders, clearly shaking.

“He’s probably looking at something else. Let’s take that picture, okay?” You smile at the boy who takes a selfie happily and moves into the queue to get his own signature. You make your way over to the glaring greenette with a scolding look.

“Midoriya….” You stop by his side, giving him a sharpie as he managed to break the one in his hand, god knows how. “What was that about?”

Midoriya looks up at you with his signature puppy eyes between signing two posters, topped up with a little smile.

“You told me it’s okay to want things. I wanted you to stop talking to that guy and give me a new sharpie.” He says like it’s the most normal thing in the world to kill a person with his eyes.

You sigh, letting the hero off the hook for the sake of the signing and you are just about to move away when he grabs your hand under the table. He doesn’t say a word nor looks at you, he just keeps holding your hand while he signs with the other. He eventually lets you go when some people ask for pictures and you use the freedom to hide behind the backstage door where you are still visible for Midoriya but hidden from everyone else. He looks at you with a sad smile and turns back to the fans with a long sigh.

“Is he being weird again?” You jump from the sudden voice behind you; it’s Kaminari.

“Really weird.” You murmur, leaving the backstage to help at the merch booth as the poor guys are clearly swarmed up there. Quite a lot of people end up asking for a picture with you after their purchase went through at the tills and you also get a bunch of compliments for your amazing cosplay; you feel content and happy, even though you can feel Midoriya’s eyes on you the whole time.

“Are you Deku’s girlfriend?” A younger girl asks and you can’t help but blush at the question.

“Oh, no, not at all, I’m just helping! He’s… a great friend of mine.” You try to smile, but everyone can see how uncomfortable you are. The other staff members giggle at the awkwardness and ask the young girl to move away and let other people buy their stuff too. You let out a long breath and keep smiling at the customers, getting more and more tired as the time goes by; you get stuck at the tills until the end of the day, only being able to leave when the convention finally shuts it’s doors.

Midoriya comes over to you as you put the few leftover merch into a box to be taken back to the DC.

“Tired?” He smiles, while helping you pack. The rest of the staff members freeze from the sight of the pro hero but continue to do their assigned jobs.

“Definitely. I’m so ready to fall asleep on the sofa while stuffing my face with the fancy mochi I just bought.” You sigh, finishing up. “By the way, don’t do that.” You say quickly, trying to avoid eye contact.

“What?” Midoriya looks at you with questioning eyes.

“That. Staring holes into my skull. You don’t need to do that, I can take care of myself. I’m quirkless, not an idiot.” You sigh, a tiny bit offended.

“You misunderstand. It’s not because of that. I…” Midoriya stutters, making the other staff members stop working completely to be able to listen in. “Let’s talk about this at home, okay?” He says, pointing at the staff members with his eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” You mumble, but he just puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you close.

“Can I have her back now? You guys can finish this, right?” You can’t see Midoriya’s smile but you can feel it in the way he talks. The staff members murmur a quiet “yes” as he takes your hand and starts pulling you towards the backstage. “Thank you guys for today, take whatever you want from the leftover box!” Midoriya says while taking 2 oversized shirts out of the box. “Matching PJs?” He winks at you, leaving the whole team dumbfounded by his words. You don’t have time to answer as the hero pulls you into the backstage area to take his backpack and say goodbye to everyone then moves towards the exit as quick as he can. “I’m so ready to sit on the sofa for the rest of the day, I swear this is more tiring than fighting villains.”

You don’t say anything back just giggle to yourself at Midoriya’s grumpy mood; it’s a new side of him, one even more adorable than all the others; he grumbles in a really cute way, his eyes squished together like a child throwing a tantrum. You squeeze his hand reassuringly as he pulls you towards the nearest taxi, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as soon as you both sit down.

~•🥦•~

“Can I have some?” Midoriya looks at you while you two snuggle on the sofa. You are watching a Crimson Riot movie in your new, matching pjs. The hero decided to wear it with nothing with boxers but thankfully, you are both under a massive blanket so you can’t see it. You can feel it though, which is probably worse and definitely way past the friendzone, but to be honest you don’t really feel like moving away.

“You want me to share my limited edition Deku mochi with you?” You look at him incredulously, keeping the box out of his reach.

“I am literally the reason this mochi exist, sweet pea!” The hero tries to reach again, ending up in your lap, taking the box from you as you freeze from the sudden closeness.

“You don’t get any until you say sorry for this afternoon.” You mumble with a flushed face, looking everywhere but at the hero in front of you. Midoriya decides this is a good enough sitting place and places his butt down right next to you without moving his legs; one of them stays sprawled out on your lap, skin touching skin.

Why can’t he sit like a normal person. Why.

“You are mad. Like, mad mad.” He mopes, looking like a 5 year old who didn’t get a present from Santa this year.

“I am! You scared that poor boy! He was literally shaking when he got to you! Your naked, absolutely gorgeous tights are also on my lap and I can’t focus on the scolding, so can you move them, please?!” You almost screech by the end of your sentence, hiding your rapidly darkening face with your arms.

“Oh, they are heavy, ain’t they.” He mumbles while he nods and moves back to his side properly.

That’s really not the problem you sexy idiot - you want to say, but you keep your thoughts to yourself.

“I’m sorry… I just…” he starts to ramble again, but this time, he doesn’t stop. “I saw him touching you and looking at you with those heart eyes and … I have no idea why is this happening to me Y/N, but every time I think about someone doing stuff like that with you, it makes me so furious I want to demolish them. I am really not an aggressive person but for some weird reason, I can’t control my anger when it comes to these situations. I’ll get better. You are your own person, you have all the rights to flirt, to fall in love and…” Midoriya’s full face is scrunched into a frown by the end of his monologue.

“You are right, I am my own person and I have all the rights to flirt and fall in love.” You repeat, making him bite his lower lip aggressively to ground himself. “But I won’t. I can’t. I don’t want to. Right now.” This time, you are the one who hides her face in his neck to calm down. As always, he smells amazing.

I can’t give my heart to someone but because you’ve already taken it - you want to say. But you don’t.

Midoriya presses a kiss on the top of your head while his hands get lost in your hair again; he massages your scalp soothingly while he says his next words.

“Just give me some time and I’ll be able to let you go.”

The sentence sounds familiar but you have no idea why; you are quite sure you’ve never heard him say anything like this before. Your heart squeezes at the words, leaving you an absolute mess as you mumble into his neck.

“I hope you need a lot of fucking time cuz I ain’t wanna go anywhere.” You mumble into his curls. “I want to stay here forever.”

Jesus, what are you even talking about?! This is pro hero Deku goddamnit!! You are nothing but a really lucky fangirl, nothing more, nothing less. You have no right to…

“Deal. Let’s stay like this. Forever. I don’t need anyone else either.” He smiles with tears in his eyes. “I never thought I’ll ever have this, whatever this is, and I don’t need anything else. Not now, not later.” Midoriya moves you up by your chin and rests his forehead against yours. By the way your heart is beating, you are probably about to die. “Y/N, will you be my roommate forever?” Midoriya whispers but you can’t make a proper answer so you decide to nod instead. The hero smiles and leaves a kiss right next your lips; your breath hitches for a second before he moves back to his starting position, like nothing had happened in the first place.

“You okay? You look really pale. Do you want to go to sleep, sweet pea?” He asks but you keep staring into space with no thoughts swirling in your dead brain…………….

“Yeah, I’m sleepy. Really sleepy.” You stand up and move towards your room without brushing your teeth. Disgusting, but if you need to stay in the same room with this idiot for another second you might combust.

“I’ll go too. It’s not fun without you.” He smiles.

You close the door behind you, then you belly flap on the bed to scream into your pillow.

Needless to say, you won’t sleep a wink tonight, nor the night after. You’ll never sleep again.

~•🥦•~

— Deku’s mental health support group. —

Lovesick Idiot (Zuku): I almost kissed her on the lips.

Ei: Accidentally?

Lovesick Idiot (Zuku): Yes. No. I don’t know??!

Kacchan: Just fuck already.

Lovesick Idiot (Zuku): You are not helping, Kacchan!

Kacchan: You can’t be helped. Now let us sleep.

Ei: Ignore him. So was it an accident?

Lovesick Idiot (Zuku): No.

Ei: Did she move away?

Lovesick Idiot (Zuku): No.

Ei: Why didn’t you kiss her then?!

Lovesick idiot (Zuku): She doesn’t see me that way.

Ei: …

Ei: Katsuki was right. Let us sleep. Good night.

*Kacchan changed Midoriya’s name to “Helpless, oblivious fuck”.

~•🥦•~

Y/N: Is it platonic when your roommate gets all protective over you and asks you to to be his roomie forever then he kisses you right next to your lips?

Jirou: Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!

Y/N: I know, I’m stupid, but a girl can dream…

Jirou: You two will be the death of me I swear to god. I think you just gave me a brain aneurysm.

Y/N: …

~•🥦•~

Izu-Izu: Y\N, are you sleeping?

Y/N: Yes.

Izu-Izu: Yeah, me too…

…Next part!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- How to ask someone to be your girlfriend without saying “be my girlfriend”, am I right? How long will you two dance around each other? Honestly, I hope it’s long as I really don’t want to finish this series 😂😂😂😂

- Btw, I’m writing week 6 right now and you are not ready for that shit. The amount of stuff Midoriya gets away with even thought you two are not in a relationship is a little bit concerning at this point. 😂

- Weekly shopping obsessed potato ramble: so this week… I bought a Todoroki figurine and 2 funkos. Send help. It’s a funny story though! So I was on my last 15 min break at work, which is a street away from my fav geek store. They posted about the new My Hero Funkos and I literally sprinted down in my work uniform and headset to get a Todoroki and a Shinsou. I arrived all sweaty and panting and they all laughed at me, then my boss also laughed when I came back with a bag full of funkos. 😂

- I’m really broke now. Hopefully, there won’t be a shopaholic potato section next week. XD

- I also need to get a new shelf as I’m out of space. I need help.

Taglist: @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @momothemasocist @aymasakusa

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x you #pro hero deku #deku x reader #deku x you #my hero academia #midoriya izuku

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 43

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

These Walls Have Ears by notverystraight

Before Lance’s friends arrive at his apartment for their weekly movie night, Keith is in Hunk’s car on the phone to Lance, trying to explain why they’re late, again. Mid conversation, Keith drops his phone under the seat. Assuming Lance has hung up, Pidge and Hunk start pestering Keith about certain feelings that he may be harboring, leading to some quite personal confessions. Little do they know, Lance has not hung up, and is listening in on every word. Shenanigans ensue.

the second best part of this fic is how sweet and funny this is. this fic is blushy and silly and dorky and so so so!!! it is just fun and garrison trio my love. the BEST part of this fic is lance knowing hes hot shit

2. That Won't Last, He's Gay and She's An Alien by notverystraight

Lance didn’t know what he’d expected to see when he came onto the Garrison’s training deck, but it definitely wasn’t this. Keith was panting with exertion, pinning someone to the ground with the edge of his training sword just brushing their neck. And by someone, Lance meant Acxa, one of Lotor’s old half-Galra generals. Or, Lance walks in on Keith and Acxa sparring. He has not-so-mixed feelings about it.

usually every jealousy trope fic i read induces the PHATTEST eye roll literally of all time but this one made me laugh lol. its just such a ridiculous concept and its fun basically. also krolia lowkey being a thot is hilarious

3. Go the Distance by orphan_account [EXPLICIT]

Keith is a sprinter, Lance runs long distance. Despite not competing against each other directly and despite the fact that they're training to bring glory to the same high school track team, the two end up becoming rivals who are wholeheartedly committed to victory. Along the way, however, they find themselves awfully sidetracked by the other's inspiring legs--er, skills. Much fluff and smut and no angst.

bro lance is SUCH a goober 😭😭 he gets himself into the most embarrassing situations and there is truly no one he can blame but himself. honestly this one is such a fun read and if the explicit warning bothers you, it's not the whole fic! you can easily skip it. the rivalry and getting together is just as fun and stupid as you'd expect from them truly

4. Haunted House Hang-Up by Creatortan

Keith runs a paranormal investigation YouTube channel with his friend, Pidge. Pidge is friends with Hunk, who is friends with Lance, who is very, very haunted. And also, very, very pretty.

oh my LORD i love this. nd team? check. supernatural fuckery? check. cute flowery lance? check. dorky suave keith? check. side of hot firefighter shiro? check. just an 11/10 in general top notch

5. Rambling by Creatortan

Lance was a talkative person, and he thought he had accepted that.

no seriously bc the Can't Shut Up Syndrome is the Worst side effect of adhd and other nd's tbh. i hate the way you're excited and you can feel yourself start to build and trip over your words but it doesn't matter bc it's so background! there's so much cool shit ur sharing!! and then you see the eyeroll or the shrug and it just comes crashing back on you so so quickly and hard and. god. this fic captured that so well

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#idk what the deal is lately but very few authors have been on tumblr #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #rivals klance #adhd lance #lance is hot #pining keith #pining lance #pining klance #rivals to lovers #fic rec #fic rec friday #frf #longpost

[foolishlovers]

good omens WIPs i'm loving at the moment

i know starting unfinished fics is not everyone’s cup of tea but comments and encouragement mean so much to writers, so if you have some time to spare, why don’t you check these out

doom days by klytemnestras - 5 years have passed since aziraphale left crowley for heaven. crowley has built a new life for himself and has found some comfort in spending time with muriel & co. but then aziraphale shows up with the messiah baby, hoping for crowley to help him one last time... the found family vibes in this one are just so delightful. crowley and aziraphale have a long way to go to restore their relationship, but it surely is an intriguing one to follow 7.6k, 3/? chapters, rated T

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[thatbanditqueen]

No One Walks Out Ch 4

No One Walks Out On Big Daddy

Chapter 4: Kaleidoscope

Summary: Elvis convinces Becky that this is actually a romantic gesture, and he brings her to Graceland to meet his family and spend some time together as he prepares to have his daughter come to Memphis. A fluffy, smutty nuzzlefest with some foreboding and Jerry shenanigans.

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, cunnilingus, vaginal sexual penetrative intercourse, cursing, drug use and alcohol, and, because it's Elvis, weird mind games and jealousy. Some historical inaccuracies.

Words: 18.6K EVERYTIME. Every. Goddamn. Time. With every fic. I tell myself, this time, 10 K is enough. And then I write more than i did last time. I think I loose readers every time it gets longer... but .. fuck.. I don't know. It's hard to kill your darlings.

I made a playlist just for this chapter in order of the songs that get sung or played.

I'm so bad at attention to detail, sorry for the typos.

This chapter is part of my on going fic about 1975-era Elvis and a single mom he meets after a concert in Jackson, MS. If you haven’t read it, you can here:

Catch up on Chapter One here

Catch up on Chapter Two here

Catch up on Chapter Three here

Thanks to everyone who has commented, sent asks, and supported this story. If you enjoy it, please, for the love of big daddy, reblog, comment, share. I always like hearing what works and what doesn't, because it gets into my fingers and shapes the way they write. Pretty sure the smut is ridiculous here....

Sunday, June 14th

1 PM, Pop’s Gas Station

Somewhere in Mississippi 

The coffee was hot as it rolled down Jerry’s throat, and he shifted against the raw wooden grain of the bench outside Pop’s Gas Station, somewhere off Highway 61. It was bright in the muggy, midday heat of Mississippi, and Jerry adjusted his sunglasses, intentionally turning his head away from the yellow Cadillac parked askew twenty or so feet to his right. Lush green trees lined the two-lane highway, and Jerry stared at the overgrowth, trying not to focus on Elvis’ laugh bubbling up as it was interrupted by yelps as Becky hit him again and again on his upper arm. Jerry made no visible acknowledgement that he could hear or see everything being said in the car twenty feet away.

"Elvis THIS IS NOT FUNNY! Turn around and take me home… I don’t appreciate being taken against my will…”

“Thought you liked being taken by me, ouch…. last night you said you wished you could co—”

“No, I never said—”

“Yes ya did, ya said,” Elvis’ eyes laughed and his lips pouted while he spoke in a high falsetto, “Oh Elvis you big strong manly stud, I wish I could stay like this forever, naked in your arms…c—”

“No, no, no, now.” Becky flipped her long, dark auburn curls over her shoulder and looked out the window at Jerry, still aloof, disinterested, his eyes focused on an indeterminate point in the distance. “I didn’t say it like that, I was caught up in the moment and I said ‘this is nice, just being here like this, together.. wish it could last forever,’ the kind of stupid thing weak-willed women like me say after making love….I never said I wanted you to go——”

“Well, I saw it in your eyes… and again this morning, when you were trying to play it cool while ya wa warshin’ my clothes for me, ironing ma pants…” His fingers rubbed the side of her arm, stroking up to the top of her shoulder then back down to her elbow, trailing lightly along her thigh. Becky settled a little as Elvis’ voice rumbled into her ears. She stopped punching him and crossed her arms with an exasperated sigh.  Elvis leaned in closer, still a few inches from her ear, murmuring while his hand circled the top of her left knee. “C’mon woman, ya really don’t wanna spend a few more days with me?”

Becky crossing her arms even tighter, and a guttural growl emerged from her throat with a “Humpf… Elvis…. I can't disappear on a whim just to be your fuck buddy for a week…”

“Whoa now, first a all, this ain’t just about screwing around-”

Becky arched an eye brow.

“Maybe for you, ya wanton woman…”

“Ha!”

“No, now a man can only do so much a that… now just come here a second….”

Elvis's hands pulled Becky across the front seat of the car and into his arms.

“Now honey, I like you, we have fun in each other’s company, hmmm?” He kissed the top of her dark curlscand her skin smoldered under the heat of his large hand massaging her shoulder. The bottom of his glasses bumped along the top of her head and she took another deep, protracted breath, uncrossing her arms.

“Mhmmmm… I… it’s not ok to go behind my back just because you want something to happen a certain way…it doesn’t feel good to be tricked into something…”

“Ok, ok… ya right…. See, I … I knew you was too shy to ask your folks… ” Becky jabbed him softly, playfully, moving her elbow up and down along the soft cushion of Elvis’ belly. “Ok, ok, simmer down, I’m sayin’ you are right, honey, I'll never trick you again or do something without asking….promise…I’ll never not consult you again when I’m planning a grand romantic gesture that sweeps you off ya feet…” 

“HA … that what this is? Awfully optimistic of you, thinking anything like this will ever happen again .. I have a mind to make you drive me back to Jackson on principle…”

“OK, well, now, look, we’re only ‘bout on hour from Graceland,  let's head in and if ya still set on leavin’ in the morning,” Elvis winked as he said this.  “I’ll have Jerry drive you back…”

Becky softened and leaned into him, her hand worked its way around Elvis’ waist. “Oh no, no Jerry, no Joe, you’re not gettin’ your friends to do your dirty work for you - you did this to your self, and you need to be the one sufferin’ the six hours driving me to Jackson and back…”

“So what I’m hearing is that you want the maximum time ta cuddle with me … I gotcha, I gotcha… so come an’ get it now, silly woman!”

Elvis’ right hand tightened around the edge of Becky’s shoulder, his thumb gently swiping up her shoulder blade as she scooted into him, releasing all of her resentment about this surprise trip to Memphis. Becky made a mental note to save any indignation that remained for Ida as she snuggled into Elvis chest, giving into it’s warm comfort and burrowing her nose into his breast. Becky smiled as Elvis let out a deep hiss as the tip of her nose traced over his nipple. Her hand moved down to tease him along the crease of his pants where his belly met his thigh. Slowly, her fingers crept further along the ridge of his tummy and onto the top of his legs, just to the point above his crotch, then giggling softly as Elvis gasped and exhaled with a low exclamation.

 “Gawdddddammit… lil gal… gonna loose my foot tryin’ to get us back to Graceland…show you that sound proof….roommmmmm,” his voice purred as Becky’s fingers needled the round flesh at the top of Elvis inner thigh. 

The friction created a heat between them, and Elvis fingers started to rub Becky’s shoulder with a blistering need. He kissed the top of her head, and Becky watched him push against her in the rearview mirror. Her chest filled with warm exhilaration at the sight of Elvis’ lower lip hanging down, his eyes blown wide with earnest, needy lust. She watched his lips smoosh sideways as he kissed her forehead, maintaining a charged eye contact with her through his glasses. The intensity of his stare was overwhelming, it made her heart beat so quick that she heard it in her ears, almost drowning out the sound of Elvis’ left hand rolling down the window to yell out for Jerry to get back in the car, never breaking the bond between his chin and her forehead. 

Elvis blue eyes simmered as they stared her down through the mirror, and Becky couldn’t stop herself from biting her lip. His fierce stare was juxtaposed by the softness of his voice as he whispered into her hair while they drove along the highway.

“He’s sawry if he upset ya baby …” Elvis voice went into a low, intimate babyish tenor, the movements of his thumb became more protracted, and Becky shushed him through his shirt. “Such a sweet baby ta me… baby baaaaby ba da di dooo, ohh… yeuahhhhh…..” His voice lulled into a gospel tune momentarily. “I cain’t wait ta show ya all ‘round ma house… all ‘round ma property… fourteen acres… ever stayed somewhere so big? Think ya… can handle that size?”

Becky chuckled, and Elvis’ face beamed at the soft rose color of her blushing cheeks. 

“Mhmmm… well, I’m not sure… guess I’ll just have ta see what happens….” Becky kissed Elvis chest, softly, murmuring into it. Her right hand snaked around his back, her left feathering over the round swell of his belly. “You know, I was just starting to like you this morning before you played this dirty trick on me …  you’re so funny and sweet …. But I just need to say… one last time, then we’ll put it behind us… I… don’t like plans being made for me…” Becky looked up at Elvis face from where she leaned on his chest. The side of his face loomed large above her, his lips pursed in thought above the bulge of his chin. “I can see how you meant this as a romantic gesture… but I … I don’t like being tricked…”

Elvis’ chin rippled above Becky as he nodded, and he drew her in closer. “Awright honey… from now, s’all ‘bove board… no more tricks… no more surprises, kay? I promise. Won’t ever lie or mislead you or keep something from you.” The softness of his chin pressed into Becky’s forehead as Elvis’ kissed the top of her head and squeezed her shoulder.

Calmed into a tender embrace, Becky and Elvis retreated into their own little enclave in the front seat, where Jerry’s presence was ignored and almost forgotten about amid the sweet nothings Elvis and Becky exchanged along the highway up to Tennessee. 

“Ya know you got the cutest yittle eye lashes I ever seen,” Elvis whispered, and he kissed her forehead again, catching her mouth as Becky tilted up to him to kiss his cheek.

She murmured over his nipple. “You have the kind of chest a girl could get used to leaning on…” she rubbed her hand under the plush groove of his belly.

It was only when they got to the state line that Becky began to feel a slight unease creep up from the bottom of her tummy and take residence at the top of her bosom. An icy chill followed up her spine, she felt anxious as she realized they were entering Tennessee. She was about to experience another layer of Elvis’ home life that she hadn’t had any time to prepare for or even think about. She squirmed out of his tight embrace and sat up straight, looking out the window at the big sign announcing they had entered Tennessee.

Elvis’ left hand remained straight, steady at the wheel while his right palm chased after Becky’s, grasping at her fingers and intertwining his between them at the top of her knee. He turned his head from the road, momentarily, looking at the back of her head as it stared out the window. Elvis’ hand engulfed her’s, squeezing it tight, lifting her palm to his mouth and kissing the top of her hand.

“Hey - ya nervous?” 

Becky’s big brown eyes met his tentatively. Her lips pursed together, then wiggled back and forth as she shrugged her shoulders.

“Mhmm… what is your family gonna think of me… this random girl… coming back to your house with you? What if they… don’t like me…. What about these six girlfriends you told me ‘bout? I…. Anyone gonna be chasing me out the house with a rolling pin?” Becky’s voice stopped abruptly, and her words hung in the air. 

Elvis released Becky’s hand and looked over at her, then turned to look at Jerry briefly for the first time since they had left the gas station. “You watch too many soap opera… Graceland ain’t The Guiding Light… I lay down the law, and there ain’t no drama… no other chicks living there right now, and everyone’s gonna be just as crazy about you as I am, lil girl… but I’ll tell ya right now, my opinion’s the only one that matter’s at Graceland… so’s you jus’ let me know if anyone… anyone… disrespects ya, hmmm? Trust daddy, now, everything is gonna be fine….”

Elvis turned up the radio and rubbed Becky’s knee, and the sound of The Allman Brothers’ “Ramblin Man” filled the car.

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

The white mesh gates opened back and Elvis flicked his cigarillo out of the car window and steered the yellow Cadillac up the curved driveway. A wistful smile spreading over his face. Exhaling, he seemed to relax as he paused the car at the little brick guard house behind the gate. Elvis motioned at Becky to roll down the window and yelled at the older man standing watch.

“Why hellloooo der Vestor, stayin’ awake I see?”

The guard nodded, and Elvis chuckled, ignoring Becky’s questioning eyes as he drove the car around to the front of the house. Jerry was out of the car first, waiting as Elvis popped the trunk and squeezed Becky’s knee, turning to give her a soft kiss followed by a second, more vigorous smack. His fingers tousled her curly locks as he comforted her.

“S’gonna be great…” his voice lilted up into a refrain. “Welcome ta my world… Becky Butt” he grinned, giving her a wink as he slapped her thigh and opened his door.

Elvis pulled himself out of the car and strode around to grab Becky’s door just as she was about to pop it open. Taking her hand, he adjusted his sunglasses and smiled wide, tugging her up the portico behind Jerry. Opening the front door, Jerry glanced briefly at Becky, then told Elvis’ he’d run the bag Ida packed upstairs. Elvis stopped them in the front foyer, his arms hugging Becky from behind as he clasped his large hands around her waist and notched his chin into her neck. He nuzzled into her right ear as Becky looked from one side of the entry way to the other. Her eyes took in the scarlet red carpeting that trailed down the grand staircase in front of her and lined all the floors that she could see, punctuated by the occasional white fur rug.

“Welcome to Graceland….” Elvis whispered. Becky’s cheeks began to match the carpet as Elvis hummed “Amazing Grace,” into her neck with a mischievous grin that told Becky he was also thinking about the same intimate moment they had shared two nights ago. The image of Elvis mouth singing this song as he licked her pussy was now indelibly linked to in her mind. 

“So… whatcha think?” Those same lips asked.

Red. That was Becky’s first impression of Graceland’s interior. The color was so overwhelming, it was the only thing she could think of as she looked around. Deep, scarlet velvet drapes lined with golden fringe hung down to meet the carpet at the entrance to every room. The dining room table on her left was enclosed by high-backed candy apple colored chairs covered with rhinestones. To the right was a parlor with a long Victorian settee that was, you guessed it, a deep Burgundy color held up by a white wooden trim. Becky momentarily mused that this might be what Belle Watlings' vagina looked like: an ornate opening lined by red velvet drapery welcoming customers into its cavernous warmth. It was the sort of place a girl would feel comfortable getting an unexpected visit from Aunt Flo. Or the perfect setting for a villain to hold a clandestine meeting with James Bond. Becky kept all of these thoughts to herself, inhaling deeply as she took it all in.

“Wow… it's … so… fancy… like no where I’ve ever been, that’s fa sure…”

Elvis seemed pleased by this response, and kissed Becky’s neck. She murmured at the warmth of his breath on her skin as she continued.

“Gosh… s’not what I expected… S’much bigger than I thought driving up…”

“Mhmmm…. That’s what all the girls say— ouch!”

Becky reached her hand above her to playfully slap Elvis’ face, and he bite his lip and waggled his eyebrows down at her. Elvis’ thumb nestled inside inside Becky’s palm, swiping up and down slowly over her soft skin as he led her excitedly around through the dining room and into the kitchen where they came upon a short, stout Black woman filling the refrigerator with Pepsi bottles.

 Elvis dropped Becky’s hand to make a loud “CLAP,” chuckling as the woman jumped back and shrieked. 

“Oh lawd, Elvis, ya scared me outta of my skin!”

Elvis hugged the woman, speaking through his chuckles. “Jus keepin’ ya on yo toes Miss Mary, I reckon it’s been too quiet round here since I been gone…”

“Hmmm, well your daddy been callin’ over to ask if you back yet, want me to —”

“Nah, let the old bugger stew… he’s pestering me ‘bout that plane, an I don’t care ta hear it.” Elvis rubbed Mary’s shoulder, then turned to look back at Becky. “Mary, I got a lil girl I’m awfully fond of that I want ya ta meet, this here’s — ”

“Why it’s Becky!” 

There was Charlie, a big beaming smile radiating happiness through the kitchen as he walked in from the other side.

“Hmmpf… if it ain’t ol Waterhead ‘im self….” Elvis walked back over to Becky and drew her into him tight, kissing her forehead as his eyes narrowed and Elvis’ left hand grazed the top of his belt. 

Charlie’s expression toward Becky shifted immediately from joyful greeting to a more solemn “Glad to see ya ma’am.”

Mary asked Elvis what time he wanted dinner, exclaiming, “Well, an early dinner, huh,” in response to his 8 pm request.

“Woke up early ta day, Miss Mary… Becky Butt here’s harsh mistress, had me up all hours a the night,” he winked and then smiled deeper as Becky’s face grew red. “Then she had us up at 8 ta drive her baby to summer camp… who knows when her demands will end?”

“Ha, you have some nerve, Elvis Presley…” Becky whispered into Elvis armpit, pinching him under his jacket and causing him to chuckle and kiss her forehead again.

Elvis twirled her out from his side, looking at her as he swung her around. “Ain’t she just got the perfect hourglass figure Mary? Just need to get her some nice clothes, add a lil’ make up, and she shines like the Hope diamond...” 

Becky swung herself back into his armpit with another pinch and reddening cheeks, whispering “Considering everything you put me though today, I look like a movie star…”

“Yeah…ya sure do look like a movie star, honey…like Bette Davis in Baby Jane….” Then Becky’s face fell and Elvis stopped snickering and rubbed her back, his lips on her head. “Oh sweetheart, I didn’t mean it now…” he laughed as she hit him and burrowed into his armpit further.

Jerry’s footsteps announced his entrance into the kitchen behind them and Becky turned to see him nod at Charlie before briefing Elvis on some scheduling and business matters. Becky stole a glance at Charlie and smiled at his shrug and eye roll, half of which Elvis caught and responded to with a sharp look in Charlie’s direction, tightening his grip on Becky’s waist. 

“Huh, well, keep me posted when Dave lands at the airport tomarra with Lisa… alright, enough pleasantries, c’mon lil’ gal, Imma give ya the VIP tour….”  

Becky smiled and called out behind her, “Nice to meet you Mary, good to see you Charlie!” before she felt the clack of the swinging door her backside.

Elvis lugged her into the back hallway to a room with bright green carpeting and wood panelling. The coffee table looked as through it had been sliced out of a tree, and the soft trickle of falling water drew Becky’s attention to the north wall as Elvis sank into a brown fur-lined couch. He pulled her onto his lap, twin sea serpents roaring out of the carved wooden armrests to meet Becky’s hand as she steadied herself to keep from falling off Elvis. To balance, Becky settling her bottom into Elvis’ groin, and he pulled Becky closer, leaning back as his fingers worked their way under Becky’s tee-shirt to caress the softness of her belly, his voice rumbling into her neck.

“This is the den…whaddya think?” 

Becky turned to look at him, his hands shifted her around so she was now straddling him where he sat at the sofa’s edge.

“It’s magical… this is my favorite room so far… right here…” 

Elvis lit up behind his lavender glasses at the wonder in Becky’s upturned eyes; he relished her gasp at the green carpet covering the ceiling above. His right hand massaged the tender hip flesh spilling out of her jeans, while his left hand moved under her shirt to where her shapely bosom jiggled ever so slightly with the delicate thrusts Elvis’  begin to send upward into her, and he leaned in to kiss her clavicle.

“Elvis… you.. havta… I wanna… you’re in the middle of giving me a tour…” Becky whispered, the burn of desire beginning to brush at her base. She grasped his left wrist to stop the jaunty beat his index finger was flicking into her nipple. 

He ignored her, his eyes singularly focused on her bust. “Honey, I don’t know if you are aware of this, but you are not wearing a brassiere….” 

“Mhmm yeah, that was a clothing choice made in a hurry this morning, out of comfort and necessity… it is NOT an invitation…”

Elvis smirked to himself as his fingers relented, only to be replaced by his warm mouth pressing into Becky’s pebbled nip through her tee shirt, mumbling into her breast.

“Well sho seems like an invitation …*suckle* …to this humble wanderer …*suckle* …feel like I been stuck in the desert …*suckle* …seeking sustenance…*suckle*… an now ya’d deny me…” his mouth pressed his teeth through the now damp fabric onto her nipple, “this ripe fruit I’ve found…that I so desperately need ta nourish …*suckle* …ma soul…” 

Becky couldn’t stop the moan escaping from her chest despite her exasperated fatigue and self-conscious awareness. Elvis’ hands moved to fondle her bottom and pull her further onto him, and he squeezed her cheeks as she giggled. Suddenly she wasn't that tired and instinctively surged into Elvis’ lap, before pushing off of his chest and wriggled backwards. She felt his growing erection as she stumbled off him and balanced her self on the ground. Shakng her head, Becky smoothed down her tee shirt and tried to keep a straight face striding backwards along the couch, stopping at the dual staircases at the back of the room.

“Hey now… mister… there are people in the next room over… why don’t we continue the tour …”

Elvis stood, lips parted below a predatory look as if he might leap over the sofa and devour her right there and then. Becky shrieked as he stalked toward her.

“Hmmmm… s’my house honey, and I do what I want.. where I want… so no reason to be worried… this is all part of my hands-on, personal tour…” He caught up with her and pulled her into him.

“Well…” Becky leaned up, her lips faintly hovered below his. “Those hands are… gonna havta catch me… don’t know what kind of girl you think I am but I don’t go ‘round making love in public places… or before this tour is finished!”

She giggled again as she rushed down the staircase to the basement, Elvis' loud belly laugh followed her as the sound of his heavy foot steps filled the passage way. Turning back briefly, Becky saw that Elvis’ body  blocked out all the sunshine from the corridor. His ravenous expression sent a thrill up her spine as she tripped down into the darkness of the basement and ran smack! into a doorframe. Elvis caught up to her as she massaged her fingers into the side of her forehead, that's probably gonna cause bump... how sexy.

“Mmhmmmm … look what I caught … think this tour is over… for now…” Elvis kissed her shoulder from behind, his breath trembling out a chuckle between his words. “Oh no, ya not hurt?”

She smiled. “No, I’m fine… just stupid.. runnin’ round a basement in the dark…”

Elvis pulled her in, replacing her fingers with his lips. “Aww, baby, let him kiss it and make it better…” He peppered soft, sweet kisses on her temple and Becky felt the cool sheen of perspiration on his chin from the jaunt down the stairs. The soft, damp sensation of his skin against her was electrifying, and she absorbed him eagerly, her hands went under his jacket till he shouldered it off,  his hands trailing down to her waist. She groaned out as the heft of his body insistently impelled her into the doorframe. 

Becky bit her lip as her hands meandered over Elvis’ back, cherishing the soft, pliable ridges and rolls, then daintily moving up to clasp his neck. He muttered out an “OH baaaaby…” and she responded with a whimper. Elvis grinned wide, stroking Becky’s cheek with his knuckles, down to her mouth, his kisses moving lower along her neck, more  passionate and insistent with each smoosh. 

Elvis grunted and heaved as hee lifted Becky up, carrying her moaning body through the doorframe an onto a dark, velvet, sectional, her head bump all but forgotten. Her eyes sort of noticed her surroundings, yellow and black walls lit by a dim solitary table lamp at a bar. Becky’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and watched Elvis kneel down in front of her and place his glasses back on the coffee table behind him. Looking up, she realized the ceiling in here was made entirely of mirrors.

“So… is this another den?”

“Mhmmmm ….  tvs, movie screen, record player, bar…” He leaned into her, hands on Becky’s thighs. “Got all the entertainment i need right here though...jus wanna look atcha ....  still a second… no moar running …” 

Becky exhaled and sat up, stroking the hair off Elvis’s face as he caught his breath, captivated by the pull of his deep, blue eyes. They were like the middle of the ocean and called her to jump off her life raft and dive right in.

“You are… you are …” she mumbled, running her left fingers through his sideburns, trying to think of the right words to tell him how attractive she found him, how his smile and that impish way his mouth quirked and his eyes danced with desire commanded her to body forward toward him. But all the phrases that came to Becky’s mind seemed inadequate and cliche. Also, she was reluctant to let him know how she felt, insecure and afraid it made her boring, easy, a push over. She had the impression Elvis needed validation, but also enjoyed the pursuit. 

Becky looked down at his thumbs trailing over the ridge of her jeans, his eyes intent on her.

“Hmmm… yeah baby, whatcha trying ta say?”

“You are… not so bad… for an… Elvis Presley…” Becky closed her eyes and held him to her cheek, as he chuckled softly, and started unbuttoning her pants.

“Well I like you too, darlin’… mmhmm…” His eyes were earnest and she inhaled as they narrowed, his hands were needy as her pulled off her jeans and threw them behind him. Becky guffawed watching them fall over a white, porcelain monkey that gleamed in the dark. 

Then he suckled at her nape, and Elvis’ cheeks scrunched up in a smile at Becky’s moans, inhaling as he moved to draw off her panties. She could feel the excitement scorching up her center as he looked into her eyes, tugging her panties off. Becky sucked in her tummy, maybe he won't notice the soft stretch marks at her hips. Stretch marks were the last thing on his mind, and her full, round hips beckoned him to grab on and smother himself within her. Elvis’ eyes looked into Becky's with a fiendish gleam, and he arched his left eyebrow as his hands continued to pull at her underwear without looking down. Becky giggled while he pursed his lips, removing her pink cotton skivvies one leg at a time. Elvis’ baritone voice dipped low as he lifted her legs over his shoulders, his thumbs teasing over her soft, curly fur, then slowly parting her lower lips.

“Hello darlin’ nice ta see ya….….It’s been a long time…” he sang, kissing the hair at the top of her entrance,  once, twice, three times. “…Ya just as lovely as you used to be…”

Becky started chuckling, “I think Conrad Twitty would be horrifi——” her commentary on Elvis’ serenade to her pussy was interrupted by the flick of his tongue on her clit.  She arched her head involuntarily as his chuckles hummed in to her. Opening her eyes, Becky saw Elvis’ body in-between her legs above her in the mirrors. His head bobbed forward and back as his fingers sought out the silkiness within her, prodding her pleasure point. Elvis tongue seared a path along her center, and a warm throbbing began to ache causing Becky to shift her hips forward to meet his mouth, twitching in sync with the glide of his fingers. Moving his index and forefinger up and down into her, Elvis let up from his efforts momentarily to look at her face, beaming at the way her lip hung down and her face convulsed in time with his fingers' movements. His head turned up into the mirrors reveling at the view of himself pleasuring Becky, widening her legs a bit so he could get a better view of his hand inside her. Becky cried out as his index finger made contact with that special spot once more, and he looked her dead in the eyes.

“Enjoy watching you squirm, darlin….”

Becky had trouble forming a sentence, stuttering out “Uhh.. well.. that… you know…” 

Elvis laughed and returned to her cunt like a man who'd been fasting a month, consuming her with firm, generous strokes. Becky felt the tension build, and her eyes went back up at the mirrors when she arched herself into him, watching as Elvis’ devoured her and his strangled breath filled the room. He was knuckles deep inside her, flexing back and forth in tandem as his tongue cleaned her, each round bringing her a step closer to absolution. Her fingers threaded through  Elvis’ dark hair, and in the dim light of the mirrors, Becky would swear she had a wild boar between her legs. A grunting,  dark, wild beast snorting and rooting for treasure in her depths. Her hips thrust up into Elvis’ face with a powerful whack and he grabbed her buttocks, his lips sucking her nub through the waves of heat that broadcast out through her entire body. Thrashing, twitching and cursing like a sailor, she tried to free herself from the overstimulation of Elvis’ soft mouth and hard tongue.

“Fuck fffffff fucking FUCKKKKK ing FFucccKKKKKK cocksucking motherfucking FUCK I can’t believe that……”

She panted hard, shaking her head at the smug, devilish look on Elvis face as he lowered her feet in front of her and wiped himself on her thigh. His fingers did a squeeze inside and a chuckle came out watching Becky twitch and jerk on his hand. She grabbed his shoulder, tightly, a sign to stop. “S’too much … to intense.” He did it one last time chuckling, then relented and glided his fingers out from her, licking them with filthy glee.

“Ha! I've never met anyone… who did that… who cared.. or liked the way women taste … like you do….” Becky exhaled, catching her breath.

“Mhmmm… not all women… but you … you taste amazing… I could eat this for breakfast, lunch and dinner…. And still be hongry fa moar…..” 

Becky laughed, sliding forward on the sofa and pulling his head to hers to crush their mouths together. It was like being inside herself. The hands cupping her cheeks, his entire face, it all smelled like her. And him. Sweat and spit and cologne and lavender oil and dirty hair. All melded together. It was intoxicating, and they stayed like this for several minutes, locked in a lover’s embrace, the smacks of their sloppy kisses replacing the sound of  Elvis face slapping against Becky’s thighs. Becky wound her legs around his bottom, and he grabbed her, lifting her up off the couch then thumping her back down as he ambled  over to the bar.

“Pffft… need.. some…water…”

She followed, and Elvis grinned at the sound of Becky’s wet nakedness squelching over the yellow bar stool.

“Thanks for polishin’ the furniture, baby…..” Elvis winked, as she inadvertently squeaked again against the leather.

Becky blushed, and Elvis’ jaw widened with a deep breath. 

“Damn, honey, I’ll never get sick a watchin’ that blush creep up ya widdle cheeks…” He leaned over the bar and squished her cheeks with his right hand, kissing her forehead.  

She stood and backed away as he came around the bar.

“S’not nice to tease a girl… first you offer to give me tour, but then corner me in this here tv room, and now ya making fun of the way all your cavorting makes me squeak and blush——”

He grabbed her to him, pulling her lips back onto his. She giggled and squirmed away.

“Oh no you don’t—”

Elvis stepped toward her again, but Becky squealed and turned, running back into the basement corridor. She didn’t have a plan, and when she remembered she wasn't wearing pants she scurried into the dark room across. Elvis’ body clambered loudly behind her as he growled. “Though we agreed no more runnin.’” 

She stumbled back onto a large table as Elvis caught up and lifted her onto the thick barrier of a pool table. Becky’s hands half-heartedly pushed back against his chest as she whined.

“Now Elvis… pretty sure I was promised sound proof walls ….”

Elvis mumbled into her ear, “Hmmm.. that why you got me chasin’ you round, tryin not to excite me???? I’d rather be in the comfort an privacy of that a room too ...  but it is much too far away… two floors too far ta be exact… don't worry, though, this basement is sound proof too … I've tested it ma self…" He winked. "Ain’t no one gonna know …” 

Becky stopped nuzzling back into him, her tone became earnest. “Have you done it lot… down here…? Made love, I mean?” 

Elvis stood up straight and grunted, his hands steadying her precarious position on the edge of the pool table.

“That was probably the wrong thing ta say, hmmmm?”

Becky’s eyes trailed to the dark hall way she had just run through, and told her self to be cool… you knew he has more experience than you… a lot more… what did you expect? Would it matter if you were in his bed? Probably fucked even more women there….

“Nooooooo…I guess I’m a idiot for asking…” she shifted up to look into his dark eyes. 

Elvis wiped his forehead while he pushed himself between Becky’s legs. His hands were rubbing her thighs softly up and down, and he glanced down at her chest before returning his gaze to those big brown eyes. The look there made him regret even conjuring up past sexual escapades. The wholly unfiltered, self-conscious insecurity in her eyes made her all the more alluring. Becky was unvarnished, unaffected, and the way she didn't try to cover up her nervousness in order to impress made him throb with yearning. Acting like a damn teenager, running after women in hallways or corridors, he thought, your gonna feel this in the morning. Who are you kidding. In an hour. Elvis really would have preferred to take Becky the comfort of his bed, but at this precise moment comfort was from from a priority, all he knew was that needed to feel Becky’s skin against his, feel himself inside her, possessing her completely and defusing all her misgivings about him with the warm deluge of his adoration. 

“Nah, not an idiot at all… look, we’re both grown ups… we have histories…” he kissed her neck slowly, tenderly. Her eyes closed with a quiver as his voice dissolved in her inhibitions. “Make you feel better if I tell ya it’s been years since I fooled round down here? Aw honey…. I can't even remember their faces ... don’t want anyone else but you…” 

Will you remember mine in a year? She wondered, but her body didn't care, and it's instincts propelled her back into him. She pulled his neck to her and his lips hit her forehead. He felt his manhood stiffen even more and it made his fingers needier as they trailed up her sides. Elvis’ lower lip hung down with longing and his eye lids drooped with lust. Becky hastily began to unbutton his white dress shirt.

“Ahh, sweet baby, you’re so goddamn beautiful….” Elvis voice made Becky stop mid-button  and she looked up at him, her hands moving up to his cheeks.

“Please don’t lay that charm on too thick… I’m already here… I’m naked…an… I know you like me an…  I can feel you’re attracted—” 

Elvis pulled her hand down to feel the pulsating steel rod bursting along his slacks “ — Ya can, huh? Feel my attraction?” Then he saw the hesitancy in her eyes. “Wuss tha matter sweetheart?”

Becky sighed. “I just….I know I’m not beautiful, not like the super models I’ve seen you with in newspapers and magazines…. I just… if you exaggerate, go too over-the-top… well,  it ruins it for me… I hate false compliments…”

Elvis’ eyes narrowed. “Honey, over-the-top is my middle name… ”

Becky let out an involuntary guffaw. “Say that again… I mean, this whole house... But what I mean is, I wish you would stop givin’ me your pretty movie star lines —”

Elvis shook his head and grabbed Becky by the chin, the look in his eyes an intense warning. “Sometimes you make me think no one has ever told ya you were beautiful…” The way she pushed his hand aside and looked down, uncomfortably told Elvis he had accidentally stumbled on the truth. “Nooo….. never? I don believe it….. no, cuz ya really are… here, I gotta turn the light on jus so’s I can see ya better….” 

He flipped a switch on the wall, and suddenly the pool room was bathed in a warm glow. Becky gasped as the light revealed a cacophony of textured colors along cloth-covered walls. Her eyes followed the fabric up to the ceiling, feeling as though she had slipped under the skirt of a Victorian lady. Colorful pleats lined the walls and gathered into the middle of the room above two hanging Tiffany lamps. Elvis lips on her shoulder as his hands took off her shirt brought Becky back into her body. A breathy giggle worked it’s way out when Elvis’ knuckles stroked Becky’s face. She quit resisting and just held up her hands, watching as he lifted her shirt over her head and gulped, his eyes languidly roving up and down her body. 

“Mhmmm… yessiree… fit right in here with all the other beautiful things I fill this ole house with…ya know… I have an eye for beautiful things —”

“Elvis, please… quit teasin,’”  Becky wiped a lone tear drop from the side of her right eye.

Elvis brought her hands up to his lips, kissing each top as he held her gaze. “Woman, you better stop that… might think you’re questioning my aes -thee- ET-ic taste.” He drawled, clearly amusing himself with his pronunciation of aesthetic. 

Inhaling, Elvis pulled Becky’s face back towards his with a kiss that lingered on her soft lips. Elvis coughed as Becky pulled off his shirt and his tummy jiggled with a wave of laughter. Looking down, she saw him flinch at his own belly and Becky dragged the back of her hand across it slowly, sensuously.

“You are… the most handsome man…” Then she blushed and hid her face in his chest hair, her hands curving up around his neck as she tried to crush herself into him, kissing his sternum and muttering how she was glad she’d met him.

“Why honey… there she is… there’s that sweet girl I like, been hidin’ underneath all that sass…”  Elvis breathed into her ear, his hands moving over her head, tousling her hair, then using his right hand to bring her chin up to his. “Becky, ya like a goddamn Greek goddess … if I say your beaut - TEE - full, then ya are, end of story …. Don’t ever wanna hear you tellin’ me what I can or can na say… ’specially when I’m in the throes of love making,” he chuckled. “Derails my manEUvers …”

Elvis hot breath clucked into Becky’s ear, he kissed her cheek and waggled his eyes. Becky pulled herself to him, and began unlatching his pants. Elvis stopped her, drawing out his pistol and pushing it across the pool table. Becky watched the metal of the gun glisten, the carved handle was elaborately engraved and she caught his grin watching her eyes follow it.

“That thing s’not loaded, is it?”

Elvis laughed. “Course it is, baby, how else arm I s’posed to use it? I’m always ready for action…”

“Hmmm. Speaking of which….” Becky’s hand returned to Elvis’ pants. “Are you aware, Mr. Presley… that you are not wearing any underwear?” She asked, in a high, breathy refrain pulling down his pants and and gripping his cock gently. “Someone might say s’its … almost an invitation…?” Elvis bent his head back as a loud belly laugh escaped his throat. 

“There ya go, using ma own words against——uhhh fuck, baby girl!” Elvis looked down to watch as Becky lowered herself in front of him and kissed the tip of his cock, her eyes all innocence.

“What? Just bein’ friendly… responding to that open invitatioOOM…..” She grinned as she plunged her mouth around him half way through the last word, humming the syllable onto him while her eyes widened and she grasped the rolling handles at his side to hand on to.

Elvis tried to pull her arm back up. “Honey, I don’t wantcha to do that… s’not something I like from women I respect…”

Becky pulled his hand off, her puzzling eyes searching his face. “I did this the first night we met…”

“Well… didn’t think I was ever gonna see ya again… didn’t realize how much I liked ya til I woke up and you were gone…”

“Well, s’too late… I got a taste for this lil fella, and it’s hardly hospitable —” Becky kissed his tip and Elvis shuddered. “To invite me to dinner then not feed me…” she grinned, as he shook his head and put his hands up in defeat, giving in to the irresistible movements of her mouth over, under and on his johnson.

Becky tried to exude a sexy playful confidence, but then gasped and choked as she forced his girthy length to the back of her throat, giggling at Elvis’ bemused expression. His heart swelled with reverence as his cock thrust into the glorious traction of Becky’s mouth. His fingers gently dragged through her hair, and he sucked in his breath while expelling a succession of needy “fucks.” Elvis lifted his head to the heavens in prayer when his tip banged into the softness of her throat, moaning while Becky stubbornly sucked in further, her cheeks hallowed and her mouth coughing down the gag reflex as best she could. Making eye contact, Elvis couldn’t help the way his hips surged back and forth almost of their own volition at a increased pace, spurred on by the determined look in Becky’s watery eyes. 

“Fuck honey… whooo…hey…. ok…I am gonna compromise and say…ya can do this anytime ya want…” 

Becky giggled at that into his cock as she glided forward.

Elvis could feel his orgasm bubbling up, and seized the side of Becky’s head to stop her, “Darlin, I wanna be inside you…. Come up here…” Elvis held out his hand and gently turned her against the pool table with a questioning eyebrow. She nodded and leaned into the wooden ledge of the pool table, sighing out as she felt Elvis kiss her shoulder and tilt her hips to him. She watched his dazzled expression over her shoulder as he pushed in and out of her slowly. He looked into her eyes while lunging in farther and groaning out a “FUck honeeeyyy.” Becky gasped sharply, savoring the tight pinch this position created.

“Damn, baby… you wuddna hardly think I been breaking you in all week..”

Becky giggled, “Elvis, how can you talk about me like that? Ughhh …. I’m not a horse…. Ughhhh….”

“I know, honey, I know… and I wantcha ohhh god damn…. Unnnnhhhhh…. meant no disrespect… but ….I am just always surprised how I wished I had a damn shoe horn with me... every time.” He laughed at her pout, and then moaned. “Now Becky Butt" he hit her bottom as he pulled out with a slight pat, "Don't look at me that -a way, s'its a compliment… should thank me… god DAMN woman….”

Elvis shifted positions to steady himself and smiled when he noticed that Becky sighed out with a crescendoing “oohHHHHhhhhhhhahh” every time he speared her at this new angle. Elvis let out a low chuckle, muttering, “Can ya hear ya self Becks? Like a goddamn accordion, suga… think... I found… ma new favorite instrument… Becky’s squeezebox…”

Becky shook her head, giggling and then moaning out again as she leaned into the hard surface of the pool table. Elvis’ heaved and breathed a little harder as he moved his right hand around Becky’s waist and began to rub her clit, grunting into the pale alabaster skin of her shoulder. 

“Oh my fucking Gawd Elvis… what are you doing to me? I don’t know if I can take any more” She moaned out, looking back at him through messy hair.

He kissed her neck. “Shhhhh…. now... let daddy take… care…UNGHHH… a ya…” then grunted again, burrowing back into her.

Eyes squeezed shut, Becky shuddered with each thrust backwards, her body clapping onto his in a rhythmic tug-a-war chasing the heat churning in her core. It broke loose, galloping over her like a runaway horse, and Becky screamed a long, loud guttural cry that echoed through the basement, up the stairway and through the entire north wing of Graceland. Mary sat at the kitchen counter drinking her coffee and smiling into her newspaper, shaking her head. It had been a long while since the sounds of lovemaking had ricocheted through the halls of Graceland like that.

“Uhhhh, there she goes… good girl…. ” Elvis slowed down, his lips planting a succession of soft pecks along the back of Becky’s shoulder, pushing her hair gently aside, and then moving his hands to tap out a pitter patter along the top ridge of her bottom where he continued to dip in and out of her.

“Oh goodness… ughhh… do you t think they heard me up stairs?”

“Nah, honey…don’t trouble ya self… I promise you, no one knows what we’re up to down here… could be playing billiards... mmHHMMm…unghhhhh… or watchin’ TV… or making a porno for all they know..”

“HA! Unghhhhh” Becky bite her lip, forgetting to be affronted enveloped by the comfort of Elvis' sweaty, warm body.

He leaned further and further into her, the thunder of each thrust reverberate up through Elvis’ tummy onto her, his hips crushing her even harder onto the pool table. Becky rocked back and forth with Elvis’ body in a post-orgasmic high, looking up at the colorful walls through blurry vision. She was inside a kaleidoscope, and she smiled watching the technicolor spectacle dance in front of her eyes. Elvis increased the tempo of his efforts. 

“Honey, I’m bout ta explode…”

His fingernails dug into her sides as he moaned out deeper, his head throttled backwards, hips prodding into her slowly and deliberately, evincing a moan with each thrust until he came with a loud grunt, singing breathlessly as he sputtered into her.

“Aaaaamen….. aaaaamen…. AAAAMEN… amen … ammmmmennnnnn.” 

Then Elvis collapsed head forward into the space between her shoulder blades, wiping sweat and hair onto her back as he whispered, “Thank ya Gawwwd… for bringing this lil gal ta me …. Lord… I feel your spirit.” 

Becky shook her head with a breathy chuckle. “Well, now I feel your spirit all over me…”

Elvis kissed her with a laugh, fondling her hips and pressing back into her deeper as he softened.

“Hmmmm… good… s’holy sacrement…” Elvis said, eyes closed, as he kissed her cheek, rubbing her sides slowly up and down as lil Elvis savored the warm, wet cloister of her cunt.

He almost collapsed over her, muttering goddamns until their breath synchronized. Elvis’ hands stilled on Becky’s hips and he coughed out, grunting, then laughing. She rolled over, gazing at him with amusement as he staggered back for effect and pulled up his pants. Her eyes danced over his wide, glistening body, the chest hair matted down, the belly that heaved forward and distended over his waist, his goofy boyish smile beaming from ear to ear. It was almost regal how he held his hands pushed into his hips, below a belly that jutted out. He took his shirt and bent to gently wipe between, gathered the cloth into his face with a loud, effected sniff before putting it back on. Their eyes met, giddy laughter echoed through the room.

Elvis  zipped up his pants and retrieved his gun, giving Becky a naughty wink as he pushed it back into his waist. His shirt hung open as he turned to move across the passage way walked back to the TV room and collapsed on the sectional. His chest heaved and his breath was ragged.

“Goddammit woman… tha most exercise since ma last concert.” Elvis combed his hand through his damp sweaty locks, looking over as Becky followed him, barefoot in just her her shirt and bending to finding her panties near the couch. Elvis pulled her on to him at the couch, kissing her belly.

“Got me runnin’ round like a 20 year old horn dawg…." Then he slapped her bottom. Again. "Well, don’t just sit here women, do something… help me...go get me a Pepsi, huh baby?”

Glancing into the mirrors above her, Becky’s eyes met Elvis’ smirking reflection.

“Nex time we’ll have ta try it in here… ”

Becky guffawed loudly, and pushed his shoulder with her head, then getting up to grab some drinks from the bar.

“You truly are a lecherous old goat…”

“Aww Becky, love it when ya talk dirty ta me… you have no idea what a dirty old goat I can be…. Jus you wait…” Elvis chortled.

She dropped next to him with the sodas, and watched as he drained half of his in one fell swoop. She leaned her head into the curve of his arm, bouyed up by his chest, she listened to the sound of his heavy exhales as he fiddled with a strange contraption pointed at the TV.

“What’s that?” Becky asked, soothing her hands over his belly.

“This… this is really high tech stuff… s’ a remote control…welcome to the future, Twitch…got all the latest gear ….let me show you how it works.” Elvis sipped his drink and excitedly explained the science behind his gadget , showing Becky how it turned the TVs on and off using blah blah blah radar gizmo whatevers. She vaguely ohed and ahed, happily trying it out as his hand guided over her over the switches and buttons on the device. Just enjoying the feeling of his chest under her head. Becky scootched closer as Elvis’ left hand trailed down her side. She let her head sank down more and more into the top of his tummy, rubbing his belly hair as she watched the three TVs in the wall flicker on. Before she passed out, she wondered how anyone could possibly follow three different news programs at once.

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

Becky awoke to the sound of voices behind her, alone on the sofa and uncertain where she was for a moment. She closed her eyes again instinctively. Someone else, an older man perhaps, was speaking in a whispered hush with Elvis in the hallway.

“—— well I wish you had made your damn mind up ‘bout which airplane ya wanted before I gave the other one a down payment. Now I have this new contract with Delta … just don’t know what was wrong with chartering —”

“Aw hell, daddy, s’just money… you think I’m gonna stand by while Killer gets his own plane, an I’m still waitin’ on the runway with my dick in my hand for a charter? No sireee… ya got another thing comin’” 

There was a long silent pause.

“Well… ya tied my hands now anyway… and I’m left cleaning up the mess… Speaking of people who clean up ya mess, where’s Linda?”

“How should I know? In the condo I bought her in LA, or the house I got her round the corner… actin’ like a hurt puppy dog sulking back and forth and hardly sayin a word to me in the last few weeks… refused to come on tour…”

“Well, she isn’t refusing that credit card you gave her, just got the latest American Express bill and let me tell ya, it’s a doozy…”

“Now, I promised that girl I’d take care a her, long as she wants, so don’t bring all that up again… don’t care if she charges $30 or $30,000… still my gal….”

“IS she? Maybe she’d be ‘round more if you didn’t bring floozies like that un home —”

“Now daddy, that lil gal right there is a good, sweet kid, won’t have you disrespectin’ Becky—”

“Uh huh, and what pills is Becky on, hmmm?”

“Nothing… she’s just tired.” Becky could almost hear the smirk in Elvis’s voice as it went lower. “Poor thing ain’t had a lick a sleep in the last three days… but she’s a good girl. Comes from a good family back in Jackson.”

“Mhmmm… well, I never know who I’m gonna find here, some stranger you picked up at the gate? A baseball announcer? The local PE teacher? Or a random super model you’ve decided to buy an apartment for and put on the payroll without telling me… probably just be cheaper to give the local brothel a full retainer…”

“Ok, now, daddy… that’s enough… I don’t wanna think bout all this right now…”

“Son, all I’m saying is, I don’t blame Linda for being sore atcha…”

Elvis voice raised by several decibels. “Well, you get your woman under control and then you can come lecture me… last I heard you’d been kicked out of yourn. And got a new house. Let’s not forget who’s payin’ for it all….”

About thirty seconds of silence passed.

“Well, I ——“

“I’m ‘bout to wake that lil gal up, so we can go dress for supper - SO leave it. Nuff. I don’t wanna squabble no more….you should join us to eat, I know’d the gals be happy to see ya…”

“Hmmmm… any other mouths knockin’ ‘bout?”

“Hardly no one tonight… Jus Charlie, Jerry, Billy and his family… ”

“Yeah. No one, just ten people he says… that’s no one… hmmm….I’ll think about it…” 

Becky waited until she heard the footsteps go up the stairs before opening her eyes to see Elvis hovering over her, his shirt was still unbuttoned and he held her jeans over his left arm.

“You’re a bad faker, Becky….”

“Hmmmm?” Becky said, unable to stop the blush returning to her cheeks. “How’d… how’d ya know I was awake?”

Elvis grinned. “Ya snore… s’cutest itty bitty breathy heavin’…. But I noticed a few minutes ago that ya’d stopped, when daddy quit yapping.” He handed her jeans to her. “Here, don’t want no one seein’ ya half naked… Let’s get you covered up….”

Becky flashed a feeble smile as she pulled her pants on, and crooked into Elvis arm, he kissed the top of her head and slapped her bottom to signal she was to trudge up the stairs in front of him.

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

Going through her bag, Becky held up another pink halter top and sighed. Before her shower, she had chewed Ida out on the phone for aiding and abetting Elvis with her the surprise trip to Memphis. And for packing an assort of really tight halter tops, mini skirts and a few dresses, all of which she suspected came from her 22 year-old cousin Harriet’s wardrobe. 

“Ida, these clothes barely cover me….” 

“Oy vey, Rebecca, that’s the point….. Ruth’s at camp, I put Saul back at the store, everything is fine, you go have fun… with Elvis Presley….” she screeched his name.

“Ida, don’t get your hopes up…. this is just a short term affair… I don’t want you to be disappointed when this plays itself out…”

“Becky,” Ida’s voice grew stern. “That is exactly the point, my meshugganah kindela… of all the people who get to have an affair with a rock star, why not you? What I would have given for one night with Rudy Vallee….”

Becky sighed. “Ok, ok…. maybe I’ll thank you one day…. give Saul a kiss for me.”

Now she stood in the master bathroom, hair up in a towel, Becky looked back in her traveling bag. No bras, five pairs of underwear, sandals and a pair of nice pumps. Other than this, she had the jeans, tee and converse sneakers she's worn to drive Ruth to camp. There was also little case with her toothbrush, and a bag with some of Ida’s Avon make up, perfume and matching talcum powder in Avon’s original Sweet Honesty scent. Becky grimaced at the sickly intense floral smell, but did a half spray on her wrist anyway. She coughed as the talc powder wafted into her nose when she spread it under her arms and between her thighs to dry and smooth her skin. She straightened the towel wrapped around her wet hair and looked at her face in Elvis’ bathroom. A line of small red bumps had started to form around her chin. Ughhh, this always happens when you start having sex again… you break out. She inspected them closely to make sure they weren’t white heads, and then rummaged through the Avon bag for foundation and concealer. Keeping her make up simple, Becky applied a light layer of mauve eye shadow to match the flowers on the white floral dress she had picked out, and the pair of light mauve shoes Ida had packed. She shimmied into the dress, smoothing it down, looking at the way the thin white floral pattern stretched over her breasts and then clung to her body's ample curves. The top only had one tied, petal sleeve, her other shoulder was bare and she sighed. This had been the most modest clothing nice option for dinner she had found in the bag.

When she finally emerged into the bedroom, glanced over Elvis’ large, black bed frame and the dark Burgundy bedspread covering it. Shivering in the cool air, she walked over and checked out the assortment of pistols, rifles and hand guns on top of his big dresser.  Elvis footsteps brought her eyes up from the arsenal, and she smiled at the white tailored suit and blue silk shirt ruffled he wore. Her breath hitched in her throat as he straightened his sunglasses, and ran his hand through his long shag hairdo. Then he moved closer and Becky felt the elastic give of her dress ripple when Elvis' fingers snapped the tie holding her lone sleeve up.

(Just imagine this dress but one asymmetical sleeve ^)

“Hmmm, couldn’t you find anything revealing to show off how pretty ya are for my folks, hmmm?” 

Becky’s bottom lip dropped down with her eyes, and she lifted her hands to nervously fix some of the hair pinned on top of her hair in a messy bun, a worried expression on her face. “I thought this was too revealing—”

Elvis smirked, chuckling, “No, I know honey ...  seems like they forget a whole sleeve… not that this sleeve has much to it neither… that little knot is holding on for dear life…” His hand moved under her breasts to jostle them up with a soft swat and eyes watched with delight as her bosom bounced up and down. “Hope you didn’t pay full price for this half a dress…” his eyes lit up when Becky elbowed him. “… Aw, no, I like it…  sexy as hell…”  He whispered in her ear and the warmth of his breath sent a tingle up her spin and through her core. 

Becky’s nether regions shivered, still sensitive from earlier activities, moreso as the soreness settled in from the vigorous pounding Elvis had given her. She had felt a slight burn when she peed, and she made a mental note to drink a lot of water. You don’t want to get a UTI on the first fucking day here. Maybe do some kegels during dinner too.

Elvis’ kissed Becky’s cheek, breaking her train of thought as he led her downstairs. Feeling her shiver, he covered as much of her bare skin as he could by hugging her into his jacket. “Maybe wouldn’t be so cold if ya invested in some long underwear…”

Becky nuzzled into his armpit. “Maybe if you didn’t live in a meat locker people could dress comfortably…” 

The sound of Elvis’ hand walloping Becky’s bottom (AGAIN) rang through the stairway with the rumble of his “Quit ya fussin’, woman, ain’t gonna change the temperature a this house jus' cuz you can’t be bothered to own a bra.”

Dinner was laid out in the kitchen, and Becky retreated further into Elvis’ embrace as he introduced her properly to his younger cousin Billy, who she’d seen from afar at the Jackson concerts, Billy’s wife Jo, their sons Danny and Joey, his father, grandmother Minnie Mae, and Aunt Delta, who was curt, quiet and smelled of a heavy rose perfume with an undertone of vodka. She felt naked when Elvis parted from her to make up a plate of food, spooning out black eyed peas with bacon, meatloaf, mashed potatoes and more from the large serving dishes on the counter. She felt even more awkward as he followed Jerry into the dining room while she looked for options not smothered in some sort of pork, smiling nervously at Mary who filled up the pitcher of sweet tea and then stacked more bacon on top of the salad.

When she entered the dining room, Elvis clapped his hand on the red cushion next to him at the head of the table, then stopped mid-sentence in his conversation with Billy to do a double take at Becky’s plate.

“Just cornbread and potatoes?” he asked in an accusatory tone, looking from the plate to Becky’s eyes. The whole table went silent. “There’s salad in there.”

Becky straightened and looked at Elvis. “I’m good. There’s bacon all up in that salad-”

“Well, use ya head, now Becky Butt, you can jus pick it out  - there  I solved ya damn probl—”

“I like this fine,  Presley, mind ya own business.”

Jo gasped, and Billy put his hand over his wife’s under the table. Billy then coughed uncomfortably and tried to change he subject. “You don’t eat bacon? On account of being a Hebr—” 

Elvis put his hand up to stop Billy “On account of being a doggone vegetarian.” Then he looked Becky squarely in the eye, and spoke with a benevolent humor. “No reason to be a bitch ‘bout it.”

Aunt Delta whispered loudly to Jo, “What Billy say?”

“He asked Becky if she didn’t eat pork cuz she’s a Jew.”

Vernon called down to Becky. “That true?”

But Becky was staring back at Elvis. “Look, I was eating my dinner just fine, you’re the one trying to tell me what ta do… I like mashed potatoes an cornbread… mind ya own business…”

“Everythin’ that happens in this house is my business, oughta box ya jaw, talking’ to a man like that in his own damn house …”

“YOU the one that kidnapped me Presley on account of how fond ya are of me, why, I bet you’d sooner hit ya granny there ‘fore you’d hit me.” She arched her eyebrow with a smirk.

“Oh you better shut that big ole mouth, get ya into trouble.” Elvis pulled Becky on his lap, arms around her waist.

She made a tepid attempt to get out of them, squealing loudly. “I don’t havta, you ain’t my boss.”

Before Elvis could answer, Minnie Mae announced, loudly. “Hesh up, canna eat ma supper.” Becky was shocked to hear such a powerful timbre from the frail, thin woman. 

Elvis squeezed her sides, and kissed her neck, whispering. “You heard Dodger, hesh that big mouth up .”

“You better shut up, you love my big ole mouth….” Becky murmured back into his ears, arms around his neck. Elvis leaned his head back, laughing, and Dodger shot Becky a stern look, as if her grand son’s unseemly behavior was somehow her fault.

The others went back to eating and low polite conversation, but Becky finished her meal in another dimension on Elvis lap. She took a large forkful of mashed potatoes, enthusiastically humming “MMMMhmmm MM!” as she swallowed. Elvis shook his head and let out a belly laugh, chewing his meatloaf in her ear and then giving her a big kiss, during which she feigned disgust. 

“Get that meat off my lips, Presley,” she muttered. 

“Huh, ya love my meat, honey.” He growled under his breath, pushing another big bite in his mouth and pressing his mush against her ear. 

Becky writhed silently in her seat, wiping off the greasy ground beef granules sticking on her lobe. “Didn’t no one ever teach ya any manners?” she hissed back at him.

“Gonna teach you some manners…you and that big mouth…” Elvis grinned like a goofy clown, and Becky couldn’t stop his contagious smile and playful energy from taking over her body. 

She beamed back, still trying to seem irritated, murmuring into his fluffy shagged out hair, “Like to see you try…” 

The thin soft knit fabric of Becky’s dress grazed her skin as Elvis massaged the top of her thigh, his strong fingers pinched the side and rubbed the rolls of her hip together, whispering in her ear. “Jus you wait… …”

They spent the meal thusly, in their own dimension at the head of the table, flirting, whispering, pinching, rubbing and feeding each other food. 

Elvis took some black eyed peas, biting the piece of ham hock off his fork, before feeding them into Becky’s open mouth with a “mhmmm... he thinks she needs some veGEeeables…”

Then Becky broke the edge of her corn bread off, “Better shut you up with something sweet in that mouth... know you like sugar on your tongue... Get any a this? Mhmmm… sweetest corn bread I ever ate…” 

He chuckled, talking with her fingers in his mouth. “Honey, I live on sweet stuff... like this cornbread... s'my house…. course it’s the best….”

They were only roused when Vernon stood to leave, followed by Aunt Delta’s movement helping Minnie Mae to her room. Becky started to help Mary clear the table, but Elvis grabbed her hand, telling her to let the woman do her job, and pulled her to follow the rest of the party into the den.  Mary caught Elvis in the back hall to pass him a note, and he motioned to Jerry after he read it, slapping Becky on her butt, which she realized was code for "hi," "get to it," "bye," "good idea," "uh nuh," and many other expressions as he begged off to make a business call in his office. Becky sat making small talk with Billy, Jo and Charlie for a time, then excused herself to fix her face upstairs, a happy excuse to go settle her nerves for a short spell alone and try to salve the self-conscious anxiety gnawing at her diaphragm. As she rounded the top of the stairs, she saw Jerry come out of the office, and he left paused to make sure he left the door ajar as he saw her.

“Everything ok?” Becky straightened her dress strap.

Jerry looked Becky up and down with an uncertain stare, then nodded. “Mhmmm…he’s just talking to his girlfriend in LA, Mindi.” 

Jerry’s heart dropped when he saw Becky’s ashen response, her lip trembled, just for a split second, before she forced a smile. “Oh, ha, well that’s good, was just about to call my sugar daddy in New York….” She changed the topic after shivering from the second floor’s cold air. “Cold, isn’t it… why is it so cold up here?”

Jerry frowned, and decided to go all in. “It’s the downers... the painkillers… makes you feel like you’re in a warm hug, like you are wrapped in a snug wool blanket… “

“How do you know that?”

“Cuz I’ve taken them, Becky… makes me drink gallons of lemonade, only wanna eat ice cream… never have enough of that cold sensation in your mouth, on your skin….”

“Oh.” Becky looked down. “Why does Elvis take them…” She shifted her feet.

“Back pain, insomnia, night terrors… at first… but it's easy to grow a tolerance and he needs more and more… can make him seem out of it.” Jerry stepped closer, and grabbed her arm. “If you are gonna be here, sleep with him, you need to watch him…if he goes to the bathroom , you go to the bathroom, if he passes out, make sure he is breathing… got it?”

The blood drained from Becky’s face, and she thought of the pills he took after the concerts in Jackson.

“Didn’t seem so bad when he was at my house.”

“Cuz he only had the random pills in his pocket… that was an impulsive trip, we didn’t even pack a tooth brush.”

“Oohhhh, haa…”

Her voice trailed off as Jerry patted her shoulder with a sympathetic wink, banking that she wouldn’t tell Elvis about their conversation. Jerry half regretted his bluntness, but her wounded look reaffirmed his commitment to show Becky as much of Elvis’ selfish nature as he could, as quickly as possible. With any luck, he’d have her hightailing it back to Jackson within the next 48 hours. Content with the work he had done, he excused him self for the night, while Becky stayed in the second floor landing, waiting for the sound of Jerry’s footsteps to end so she could creep closer to Elvis’ office and indulge her morbid curiosity.

“—no, no course, no, don’t even talk bout Rome… cuz I said I would… why honey, of course — why all ya gotta do is ask — no, now who’s name is on the marquee… that’s right darlin - my daddy works for me, not t’other way round…. Of course , s’no problem, how much ya need? Well …. Now, Joe’s out there himself, Jerry’s gonna square the wire first thing tomarra —— well, now, that’s more like it… I miss you too… whatcha you wearin’? Ohhhhhh you little minx, I oughta—” 

Becky felt sick to her stomach. It had only been a few minutes since that warm voice had been murmuring honeyed words into her neck. Her hand shook as she slunk over to the bedroom, and shed a few tears in the bathroom, then slapped herself in the face. 

“Shut up you big baby. You’ve been giddy as a school girl since you got here. You are just here to have fun. If you’re blue, well, that’s what you get for eavesdropping. People just having fun and enjoying free love don’t sneak around eavesdropping. It’s like Ida said, just enjoy the fucking experience… don’t get too deep, don’t take anything on...” She forced a smile. “Shepard’s pie. That’s what Charlie said. You’re comfort food... he doesn’t like one night stands, he likes to fool around for a set period of time. Maybe he’s your shepard’s pie too. Who are you kidding? You might be his comfort food, but Elvis fucking Presley is filet mignon to you, Rebecca Grace Hoffman. No one knows that name. Because you’re a nobody. Are you gonna ruin this trip by nagging him about other women? Or sleeping pills? No. Just. be. fun. Becky.”

The cold marble of the bathroom sink transferred from her hand to her cheek as she slapped her self again. “OK. Fun Becky.”  She nodded at herself and felt a little better after she washed her face and fixed her make-up. Taking a deep breathe, Becky shivered in the chill of Elvis’ bathroom. “Shake it off, baby…” she repeated to herself, rolling her shoulders and wiggling out her arms. As she walked downstairs, she told her self that if she felt uncomfortable, she could get a cab to the Greyhound station tomorrow,  or, worst case scenario, call her sister. This calmed her down, and Becky looked at her reflection one last time in the foyer mirror and smiled, happy with how she looked. Content with her decision to make no decisions and ready to enjoy the rest of the night if it killed her.

She instantly felt better when she peeked into the den and saw Charlie’s friendly face waving her in. The the woodsy decor, low lighting and water fall created a soothing atmosphere. Charlie was strumming a guitar while Billy got up to grab beer from the bar downstairs, an offer which Becky responded to almost too eagerly as she slide into the sofa next to Charlie. She nodded at Jo sitting on the floor against Billy’s chair. The women spoke for a little, Becky asked about the kids playing cards at the back of the room while Charlie played the melody for the Gordon Lightfoot hit “Sundown” on the guitar. Billy came back up with cold bottles for everyone, and the cool sour bubbles refreshed Becky while she struck up a conversation with Charlie. 

“Hey Decatur.” She said, smoothing her lap and crossing her legs. 

Charlie was now strumming chords aimlessly on his  guitar, a shy grin curled at the corner of his mouth. “Hey yerself, Birmingham.”

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

The chords from George Jones’ and Tammy Wynette’s hit duet “Something to Brag About” met Elvis’ ears as he thumped downstairs, and he stood at the entry of the den noting the five empty beers on the coffee table. He watched Becky take a sip from her beer bottle as Charlie played guitar and sang the duet’s male part.

But I've got something to brag about 

Something to brag about 

Something to brag about in you

Becky closed her eyes as she sang out Tammy’s verse vigorously to the green carpet above her head, the deep emotion in her voice warmed Elvis entire body and he watched her with the keen eye of a voyeur. He felt the prickle of desire buzz along the back of his neck as he gazed at her sing and bounce on the sofa. The curls on top of her head seemingly had a life of their own, animated by the intensity of her delivery.  He liked power he felt watching her from doorway, knowing she had no idea he was there, knowing she wasn’t responding or performing for him. Just existing in the world as the free spirit that she was.

When you're with the fellas, I know 

You start braggin' 'bout 

My hour glass figure and my big brown eyes

Becky giggled, moving her hands suggestively over her body as she sang.

Then a you tell your girlfriends 'bout my 

Sweet, sweet lov—‘

Just as Charlie started to sing the word lovin’ he looked at the door and gulped, his hands froze while the last chord still reverberated throughout the den’s acoustics. He knew the power of that stare all too well, and the horror on his face showed his recognition.

Becky turned her head upside down, leaning back over the wooden serpent armrest,  that second beer had made her back impervious to the wood carving’s hard ridges. A goofy smile spread across her upside down lips.

“Heyyyyy daddy!”

Elvis stepped forward, towering above her. The waddle under his chin hung down as he tousled Becky’s hair from above, then pulled her dress strap up from her shoulder where it threatened to slip off and release her heaving bust. 

“Mmhmmm … hey baby…don’t let me interrupt y’all…” The edge in his tenor went over Becky’s head as she giggled, a dreamy look on her face as she blew a kiss up at him.

Leaning back as she was, Becky missed Charlie’s nervous glance at Billy, and she pulled herself up, slapping Charlie’s knee. “C’mon Decatur, where were we.”

“Ummm, uh… I uh, forget how it goes on from here…” Charlie coughed out.

Elvis staggered around the sofa behind Charlie, leaning down on his hands at the back of the couch. “Hmmm….. maybe it’s time ta let a professional take over…?”

Becky guffawed, slamming down her beer on the coffee table and raised her hands out for the guitar. “Professional skunk, more like. Don’t let him bully ya that way, Charlie… I can play if you... if you forget how it goes from here….” Charlie shot Becky a weak grin, and leaned over to hand her the guitar as he shakily stood up.

“Thanks darlin, but uhhh, need to use the John anyhow… y’all go on with out me….” Charlie twisted to look over his shoulder as Elvis plopped down in one of the large arm chairs across from the sofa. 

Billy sat in the other large armchair, his face was blank and inscrutable to Becky as he nodded at his cousin, and squeezed Jo’s shoulder below him.

Becky looked down at her hands, finding the chords on the neck of the guitar, then smiling at the others as she strummed lightly. Her voice was solemn and sad as it lifted up into “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Old,” pausing at the chorus to yell out, “C’mon on y’all, sing it with me….” 

The night they drove old Dixie down 

And the bells were ringing 

The night they drove old Dixie down 

And the people were singing 

They went, "Na, na, la, na, na, la"

Jo joined in exuberantly, and elbowed Billy into singing. Elvis grinned, he did not sing during this song, but rather, leaned back and watched Becky intently. After a few minutes, he pulled out a cigarillo and looked expectantly at Billy, who paused his contribution to the next chorus’ “na na nas” in order to hastily jump up and light Elvis’ cigar.

Becky laid the guitar down on the couch next to her when she finished singing and stood slowly, throwing her hips back and forth as she paraded around the coffee table to sit on Elvis’ lap. He looked up at her, blowing his cigar smoke to the side.

“Dontcha know… that’s a man’s song?”

“Hmmm…” Becky purred as Elvis belly bounced into her and she leaned into his face, her fingers edging around Elvis’ cigar to pull it out of his grasp to her own lips. A sly smile emerged on her lips as spoke. “Oh ya know…. I like…” she sucked on the sweet, woodsy smoke from his cigar, exhaling as she finished her thought. “Men’s things….”

Elvis pulled his cigar back from her fingers, his lips hovered below her chin. “Already know that…” 

Becky leaned her forehead down against Elvis’, his left hand jiggled her closer and he chuckled up into her mouth, his eyes danced behind his sunglasses.

“You know, you have a sad melancholy in that voice a yourn….” He murmured just to her, pulling Becky in the warm enclosure of his arms, a world where only the two of them existed and they spoke to each other in hushed, intimate voices as if no one was around. Here there were no external problems, no girlfriends, no downers, no children, no 200 miles stretching out between their houses. The only barriers were the clothes they wore and the space between their bodies. Billy and Jo looked at each other and shrugged awkwardly.  

Becky didn’t notice. 

“You don’t like my voice?” she stammered, her lower lip trembling.

Elvis brushed his lips over her chin, closing his eyes as he tilted his forehead into her nose and growled into her breasts below. “Honey… I don’t like your voice……” he paused for effect, his left hand grabbing the back of her hair, loosening the bobby pins that held it up with the force of his fingers. His jowls vibrated as he intoned, deeply. “I loooove your voice…..”

Charlie coughed as he walked back in, and picked up the guitar to put it back with its stand against the wall. Elvis’ eyes shifted, momentarily brought out of his trance, but he left his head resting against Becky’s chin.

“Hand that over here, son…. nah, give it to Becky … yoar a better gee tar player than I am any how…”

“Liar…you just lazy and wanna smoke that cigar...”

“Shut your mouth and get to playin’,” he blew his cigar smoke in her face.

“You still ain’t the boss a me… ”

His left hand lowered down to slap her side. “Hesh woman… c’mon, what are we singing…”

Becky grinned, and played the opening bars twice as she asked, “You know this one?”

“Ohhhh baby, I had that stuck in my head since the first night I met ya….” Elvis confessed, stubbing out his cigar in the green glass ashtray stand next to his chair.

“Alright, I’ll count us off.. one, two three…”

Their voices roared together in unison as they sang the opening stanza of June and Johnny’s “Jackson…” Elvis’ face lifted up to Becky’s, her breasts bounced as she strummed and his left hand drummed out a fast rhythm on the bottom of the guitar from where it squeezed her waist. Her body rocked back and forth into his belly, relishing the way his low voice took the melody somewhere new for her, and she belted out a “HA!” as he sang this verse.

When I breeze into that city 

People gonna stoop and bow (hah) 

All them women gonna make me 

Teach 'em what they don't know how

Charlie looked at the others, his brows raised, and Billy shrugged again, his eyes conveyed a knowing weariness. Neither Becky nor Elvis noticed this exchange, their eyes were otherwise occupied, and Becky leaned her nose down to nuzzle Elvis’s as she breathed out the next verse into his face through simpering amusement. Her warm breath sent a lightening bolt across Elvis’ body, and the thump of her bottom against his tummy and worked to increase the humming of his skin, amplified further when he sang and his lungs expanded swelling up his belly into derriere even more.  Elvis kissed the top of Becky’s shoulder softly as she leaned into him, finishing her stanza.

Yeah, go to Jackson 

You big-talkin' man 

And I'll be waitin' in Jackson 

Behind my Jaypan Fan

Becky purred along as Elvis sang the last chorus, swaying back and forth over his lap, and his arms closed tight around her as they hummed the last few notes together. They stayed in the den for hours singing, long after Billy and Jo found their children and said goodnight, Charlie tottered after them with a farewell. Their voices joined in happy harmony, mingling in the air was they started, stopped, paused, laughed and crooned together the melodies for “I Saw The Light,” “Don’t Think Twice,” “The City of New Orleans,” “Louisiana Women, Mississippi Man,”  Elvis changed the words to Alabama woman in this last one, to which Becky responded with a chuckle, which made him laugh and they giggled into each other’s cuddles on the furry arm chair.

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

Becky lay back in Elvis’ bed, sniffing under the silk navy pajama top she had borrowed from him to sleep in. His monogrammed initials met her eyeline as she checked how her armpits smelled. After brushing her teeth, she had dusted herself with talc powder again, she was now covered in that old familiar Sweet Honesty scent by Avon. It was starting to grow on her.  The beside clock told her it was 3 a.m. Elvis had been in the bathroom for twenty minutes, what is taking him so long? She thought of what Jerry had told her, what’s so wrong with taking downers to sleep? If he has night terrors and insomnia? Yeah, so far she had watched them knock him out, but he had been fine otherwise. These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of something sliding across the tile in the bathroom, and Becky jumped up to check on it, only to be met by a swinging door and revelation of Elvis’ broad, dark silhouette. He swaggered towards her, taking her hands and waltzing her around, then dipping her back into the exposed silk sheets of her side of the bed.

“You ok? Thought maybe you stubbed your toe…” she mumbled up to him, his piercing dark blue stare made her chest ache. Lost in the deference Becky’s brown eyes offered up to him, Elvis hummed, savoring the way she turned her cheek into his knuckles as they roved up her face.

“Mmmm… what Twitchy?” His eyes narrowed, processing her question. “Oh, nah, just me stumblin’ ‘round tryin ta give myself a shot of B 12 … s’apart of my vitamin regimen, ya not the only one tryin’ to be healthy round here, miss veg a ma tarnation ..” Becky’s questioning face followed him as he rolled over on the bed and she cuddled into his chest once he joined her under the covers, half-sitting up pushed into the pillows. He took a ring off his pinky, the design was a wide platinum metal band that tapered off as it bent towards the back, in the center was a flower made of six large, glittering diamonds. Picking up Becky’s right hand from atop his chest, Elvis pushed the ring onto her finger, bending her hand up to watch the jewels catch the light. A gleeful grin bobbed his round, full chin and his eyes gleamed.

“Wannn ya ta have this….” Elvis dropped Becky’s hand, and began rubbing her belly, pushing up the silk button down top warming her skin.  

“Elvis…” Becky shook her head, and started to pull the ring off, readying her diatribe on how she didn’t want gifts.

“Honey don’t… “ Elvis palm glided over her soft, bare belly, pressing into its plush expanse as he trailed from side to side, smiling when he noticed these movements made her bust jiggle. “Now…. Can’t believe ya aint evvvva had sum un tell YOU that ya beautiful….” His speech started to slow as he spoke, each syllable seemed to get caught on the roof of his mouth. “Cuz you arrrre… so beautiful…. And beautiful people deserve beautiful things…. Help ya sparkle…. Help others seeee how beautiful you are…”

Becky could feel tears pooling behind her eyes at this declaration, unsure if she should protest. As if he read her thoughts, Elvis began to preemptively console her.

“Shhhhh…now shhhhh…. Let me do this…. I wanna give you deems … uh..” His eyelids fluttered closed, and a growl worked up his throat as waves of demerol warmed his chest and slowed his heart. “…. uh…” he jerked open his eyes, fighting to stay awake, his lips open and pouting like a baby. “Huh, what was I sayin, now…. oh yeah… it means somethin’ for me to give you deese things on account that you never had ‘em before… means more ta me…. knowing…. that I found you … gonna show the world how beautiful you are…” 

Becky shoved her face into his, and pelting a series of soft kisses across his cheeks as his eye lids began to droop down again, his hand still slowly tracing over her tummy,

“Gaawd, your skin is sooooo soffftt, like a baby’s….. wantcha ta be my baaBY…. I can be your daddy, ….an you can be my mommIEEE ….. and we can beeee each udder’s babies…..” His voice lilted in a higher tone, like a little boy musing about what he wanted to be when he grew up. His eyes completely closed, then struggled open, looking into her face.

“You’re sayin’ you want this to last more than a few days...” Becky thought of the other girlfriends in his life. It was one thing to spend the last week screwing around with a rockstar whose girlfriends, plural, knew or even condoned his polyamorous proclivities. It was another thing to join their sorority. “I’ don’t know if that——”

His jowls rippled as he shushed her, index finger softly held to her lips. “Jus thin ‘bouuutt it…. I know you a stubborn independent woman…. like ta make up your own daaaMN mind…. ya don havta decide now…. In fact, I don want ya ta, mean more if I earrrrn sit…. Stay here for a month, see how much you like me…. I know ya will… be my baaby, my little baby…..”

“Elvis,” Becky whispered. “I cannot stay here for a month…” She looked up from her position snuggling into the silk shirt over his hairy chest, and realized his eyelids had completely dropped down. A low, staggered breath forced out of his mouth. Becky hoped maybe he was so out of it on his sleeping pills that he would forget everything he just proposed. But as she noticed his breath decrease, she pushed in closer to him, her fingers softly skimming the hair across his forehead and rolling down his nose, just as did to put Ruth to bed. 

“Oy gavolt, daddy… what’s in those vitamins, hmm?” she yawned, then frowned, leaned her head on his chest to make sure it was lifting up and down with life, her own fatigue put off by the cold air and lifelessness of Elvis' body. Nuzzling further on to his chest, she thought of what Jerry had told her, and tried to stay awake, monitoring his breathing. Eventually she dozed off listening to the hum of the air conditioner.

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

Monday, June 15th

12 p.m. Graceland Master Bedroom

The creak of the door woke Becky up, and she lay on the mattress trying to remember where she was and what she was doing. It must have been five am when she finally fell asleep, but she couldn’t tell what tie it was now because the room was still so dark and cold. The large padded black leather door was ajar, but Becky didn’t see anyone, and as her eyes adjusted to being open, she realized Elvis’ head was on her breasts, and his right hand was cupped over her pubic hair, settled at the apex of her legs between her thighs. I guess he still has some life in there somewhere while he sleeps. She smiled, only to jump up at the sound of a little voice from the side of the bed.

“Who the hell care you?”

Becky shrieked “Fucking cock—mucker...” She threw Elvis’ hand off her and pulled the red, satin bedspread over her legs and panties. Elvis barely stirred, his snores only increasiing as Becky rolled him off her. 

She took in the patch of dirty blonde hair propped up at the edge of the bed, and then sat up further, pushing back against the headboard and smiling at the little girl who stood before her with hands on her hips and a look of disgust on her face.

“Why… hello there. Sorry for yelling… you uh… ya startled me… I’m Becky, who are you?”

The girl looked her up and down with those the same blue eyes and sneered curling her lip as the man sleeping next to hear. She ignored Becky’s question, emphasizing the edge in her voice.

“Where’s Linda? Does she know you’re here…?”

Becky sucked in her breath as she tried to think how she was going to navigate this scenario. This was not what she had in mind when Elvis had invited her to come to Graceland and meet his daughter. She had pictured a sweet, coordinated meeting in a living room or foyer. After having been briefed on Lisa’s likes and dislikes, Elvis would fondly introduce them to each other and handle any of the hard questions about his choice of companionship. As she sat there flummoxed, loud footsteps stopped at the entrance to Elvis’ room and Lisa scurried to hide behind the door just before Aunt Delta’s grimace poked around it. She squinted at Becky, and somehow her frown seemed to deepen into the wrinkles at the side of her mouth.

“You seen that little she-devil?” Delta huffed.

Becky looked over at Lisa Marie behind the door, who was vigorously shaking her head.

“Nope! Why?”

“Ughhh, that little gal needs to come unpack her suitcases… if we don’t do it now, I’s reckon she won’t do it all. That boy just let’s her run wild.”

Becky nodded, although Delta seemed to be talking more to herself, muttering as she turned and pulled the door closed behind her. Becky rolled off the other side of the bed, pulled her jeans off the chair they hung over and stepped into them as she made her way around the bed to Lisa Marie.

“C’mon, she-devil, I’ll help you unpack…”

Lisa Marie crossed her arms. “Chores’ for suckers… Nancy’ll just do it for me when she gets here… you can’t tell me what to do… you’re not my mom… you’re not even Linda…”

Becky chuckled and shook her head, then looked back at Lisa Marie as she opened the famous sound proof double doors that didn’t seem to do anything to keep the rest of Graceland out.

“Thank god I ain’t yer mama…already got one daughter who doesn’t listen to me. Though I find in general I can’t make anyone ‘round here do anything they don’t have a mind to do themselves…” Becky looked over at Elvis’ body on the bed as she said this, then lowered herself on her legs so that she was eye-level with the little toe-haired firecracker. “But I am your guest here at Graceland… so if I like unpacking clothes, you have to let me do it…wouldn’t want to wake up your papa and tell him you aren’t being a good hostess?” She watched Lisa Marie hesitate. “Well, are you the lady of the house or not?”

Lisa Marie uncrossed her arms and sighed up into her bangs. “Sho nuff I am...daddy told me this is my house...an.. I'm... I’m gonna inherit it, have my babies here… s’the Presley legacy… so.. um yeah, I am THE lady of the house…. Ok, well if you wanna be a sucker and unpack my clothes, it's your funeral…”

The slight girl led Becky down the hall towards her bedroom, stopping in front of a glass showcase filled with award trophies below a banner reading “Miss Tennessee 1972.” Lisa Marie paused in front of the shelving and looked at Becky, her eyes rolling up and down Becky’s body in judgement as she announced: 

“These are Linda’s awards, she’s my daddy’s girlfriend… they’re gonna get married one day… she’s a real beauty queen. She’s teaching me ‘bout fashion, how to get into a sorority, which ones are the best ones….”

Becky swallowed, groaning internally. This kid knows exactly what she is doing, she took one look at you and already twigged that you don’t belong here with her daddy. She’s just trying to get a rise out of you, it’s almost sweet. Can’t be easy to be Elvis’ daughter. Breathing deeply, Becky pushed any idea of competition with Linda aside.

“Mhmmm, Linda certainly deserves these doesn’t she, I mean, she’s gorgeous.” She walked beside Lisa. “People always told me I had a nice sense of humor in high school…. You know what means, don’t ya?”

Lisa Marie shook her head. 

“S’nice way of telling me I wasn’t beauty queen material….”

Lisa Marie let out a loud laugh, the tried to hastily suppress her smile as she continued to lead Becky to her bedroom. Becky tried distracted Lisa, asking her what the best sorority was, how to join one, what college she wanted to go, what music she liked. As they talked, Becky soaked in the sheer excess of Lisa Marie’s bed room. There was a round faux fur canopy bed larger than Becky’s bed at home, and it had a stereo and mirrors in the top. There was also a big television, a jewelry case filled “with real diamonds,” Lisa Marie explained, and several large sets of drawers and a big armoire Becky opened the suitcases and started unpacking, pausing to ask for help with every piece of clothing she took out, while asking Lisa Marie about herself. 

“Hey where does this dress go?” Becky asked casually.

Lisa Marie took it with a huff, walking it to the closet, “In here, obviously,” the little girl said as she hung it, and Becky nodded, muttering how silly of her, then folded some tee shirts and skirts into piles.

“So Lisa Marie, what are you into?” Becky asked, handing the little blonde a bunch of rolled socks.

“Lisa… you can just call me Lisa.” Becky nodded at this. “Fast cars, karate, guns and hawwwt music.” Lisa said with a deep affect and an impish smirk

Becky laughed. “Really? Hmmmmmm sounds like someone else in this house… you forgot beauty queens…”

“True… I’m fixing to be a beauty queen ma’self… gonna do karate as my talent at pageants…that or target practice…”

Becky grinned and shook her head, fingers locking the clasps and holding up the empty suitcases with an eye brow arch. “You know, I’ve never even held a gun - you good at shooting?”

 A devilish expression energized Lisa’s face as she turned. “Wanna learn?”

Becky stood, wondering if she should shower and get Charlie or Mary or Jo to take her out to buy a bra and some more modest blouses as she looked at the pajama top over her jeans, mumbling in response. “Learn what, sweet girl?”

“How to shoot a gun a course…” Lisa began walked through a swinging door outside her bedroom, next to a second narrow staircase.

Becky glanced down its dark depths as she ambled behind Lisa, realizing she was being led into Elvis’ dressing room on their way back to the master suite. Becky followed slowly, frowned at the bags under her eyes as they walked through the master bedroom. Dressed, get dressed. Becky struggled, and she took a purple halter top out of her travel bag and slinked it on as Lisa Marie gasped from her position tip toeing over the dresser showcasing Elvis’ arsenal.

“Did you just flash me?” Lisa made a disgusted sound.

“We’re all girls here... sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable honey… I guess maybe I feel a little too comfortable….”

Lisa looked Becky up and down again. “You really are different from his other girlfriends…. Here, any preference ta which one do you like… oh wait, never mind, you already said you don’t know nothing bout guns, better let me do it ... I’m an expert.”

Becky walked over, clipping her dark brown curls in up, her lips pursed and her eyebrows knitted in concern. “What does your daddy say about you using his guns?”

“Ta never ever touch ‘em.” Lisa said as she gatheredd two pistols in her hands, the same way that Ruth would glance over and select Barbie dolls to play with. Lisaa tilted her head to the door, and Becky followed with a disturbed expression as Lisa led them out of the room, downstairs and out back to the smokehouse. She wondered if she should be doing this, but then again, several kids in Ruth’s class already had marksmanship awards. What did she know, did she want her first interaction with Elvis's daughter to be a power struggle?

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

Becky’s barefoot feet wriggled further into the sawdust, and she inhaled deeply shutting her eyes. The pressure of the exploding bullet from the shaft of the colt 45 revolver caused Becky to jump back with a little scream. She looked up, there were no holes on the target sheet hanging at the end of the room. 

Lisa laughed, and came over. “You havta keep your eyes OPEN for starters.” She took aim with her gun, as Becky stepped back and watched her squint and stay perfectly still shooting a perfect bullseye. Lisa then turned with an elated gleeful smile, blowing over the top of the gun as her eyes met Becky’s.

Becky chuckled. “Wow… impressive… do you have a favorite gunslinger?”

Lisa turned and shot two more rounds, each one hitting the red center of the bullseye. “Dirty Harry.” She answered without skipping a beat, then flipping her hair back over her shoulder.

“Wow…. Have you seen that movie?”

“Only about a thousand times…. it’s one of my favorite movies….”

“Wow, well, what about a girl shooter? Have you seen Annie Get Your Gun?”

“Of course.” Lisa huffed, refilling the cartridge of her gun. “I even used to have a pink cowgirl vest just like Annie Oakley, ‘cept it’s too small for me now.”

“Well, if we had a sewing machine I could make a new one for you.”

Lisa looked up at Becky with an excited expression, and took her hand, dragging her out of the smokehouse. “Dodger has ‘un…. Let’s go find Charlie, we’ll get him to take us shopping…”

Becky’s bare feet stumbled over the grass and pebbles as Lisa’s hand took them towards the long white building at the back of the mansion. “Um, let’s not bother Charlie… he might have other things to do.”

Lisa’s face turned back to Becky as she rapped on the door, announcing with all earnestness. “Are you kidding? Charlie always does everything I say….”

Three hours later, Becky was sitting at a very large, heavy cumbersome metal Singer sewing machine that Charlie had lugged out from Minnie Mae’s room into the adjourning living room. Becky had given him an apologetic grin as he stumbled and told her that it “Really weren’t no trouble.” Her fingers pushed pink suede through the stitcher and she bit her lip in concentration as she controlled the lever with her foot. Lisa hovered over Becky, perched on the sofa attaching rhinestone beads to the fringe on the smaller vest Becky had already cut and sewn together with Lisa’s proportions. 

“You think this is really gonna fit him?” She said with excitement and Becky nodded, grinning at the thought of Elvis wearing a matching pink suede vest. Not as gaudy as those jumpsuits but in the same family, she thought. Lisa turned to grab another bead from the bowl of glimmering silver rhinestone beads.

Lisa jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “It’s SO perfect! They match…”

Jerry walked by and stuck his head in, a middle aged white lady behind him. “Hey honey - I set up the film reels of The Pink Panther for you down in the TV room like ya asked this mornin…”

Lisa’s eyes stayed fixed where she tied another silver bead on her vest fringe, then waving Jerry off. “Thanks Jerry, maybe later…. We’re busy… oh hi Tish…”  Lisa added, seeing the older woman. Jerry looked at Becky, bewildered, but didn’t inquire what they were doing, turning to escort Tish upstairs.

“Whose that?”

“Oh that’s jus daddy’s nurse… he has some back pain and digestible issues… she’ll start coming by to give him his medicine every day now that he’s home… she takes real good —— ok, is it done ?” Her voice trailed off as she watched Becky pull the large pink vest out of the machine.

"Not yet, I gotta slice the fringe and get some of this shiny beads on here…” Becky smacked her lips and squinted at the stitching. 

Lisa nodded, nothing another bead, heat feet dangling over the edge of the couch. “Say, where did you learn to do all this? Ya mama?”

Becky turned to Lisa, grabbing a bead as she worked on Elvis’ vest. A “Ha!” escaped her mouth at Lisa’s question.

“No, my mama  was busy being a lawyer…. Our nanny, Helga, taught me everything I know… and I try to teach it to my little girl, Ruthie…”

“You’re mama was a lawyer?” Lisa’s eyes were wide, and she paused her work.

“Yeah, everyone in my family is a lawyer… ‘cept my sister, she’s actually a judge up here in Memphis… I think she was the third lady judge in this town.. Maybe I'll see her while I’m here…” Not if I can help it, Becky thought.

“And you? You didn’t wanna be a lawyer?

Becky chortled. “No…. Not alll…. “

“Are you a working mom?”

“Oh honey, all moms are working moms…. We’re like CEOs of small businesses. And those businesses are you,” she said, poking her finger into Lisa’s belly and conjuring a playful squeal.

“OK, but do you work work?”

“Sorta … still trying to figure out what I wanna do when I grow up…. When I was in high school, I wanted to be a park ranger in the Great Smokies…. Sounds silly, huh?”

“Noooo…. What happened? Couldn’t you still do that?”

“What happened…. Oh what happened…. Well, I got real lucky, and the universe put baby Ruth in my arms…. Hard to be a park ranger with a baby strapped to my back…”

 “What would you do now if you could do anything? As a working working mom, I mean.”

“Well, I’m already a working working mom, I’ve kinda always had to be... I help my folks with their hardware store…. If I could do anything…. I guess I’d like to own something, a little book store, maybe sell records too, have a juice bar and a kitchen serving up vegetarian food, maybe I run it with a husband, a nice divorced man I meet one day back in Jackson, living out a Brady Bunch fantasy….”

Lisa patted Becky’s shoulder. “You can do anything you put your mind to, Becky. S’what my daddy always says. If you want to find a divorced man to own a juice bar with, I believe in you…. What’s a vegetarian?”

Becky giggled, putting down the vest after tying the last bead on. “Someone who doesn’t eat any meat.”

“Wait, so you really don’t eat any meat?”

“Mhmmm….”

“That’s ridiculous… how can you even have a complete meal?”

“I have my ways…they involve tofu, peanut butter or beans….”

Becky and Lisa stayed in the living room talking, as Becky explained some of the reasons she didn’t eat meat, asking Lisa if she would eat a horse or pet dog, and then why a cow or chicken was different. She looked at the large, ornate golden clock over the fireplace and realized it was 3:30. 

“Speaking of food, I’m honnnngry, haven’t had anything to eat all day.. y’all have peanut butter and jelly?”

Lisa smiled and jumped off her perch on the sofa, laying her vest over the larger one and waving for Becky to follow her. “I’ll do you one better, I’ll make you one of my famous peanut butter banana sandwiches.”

Just as she jogged into the foyer, a pair of large hands reached out and grabbed Lisa and lifted her over the shoulder of an Elvis shaped frame, pinching her sides.

“Ya mean my famous peanut butter banana sandwiches….” Elvis voice tumbled out with a chuckle as his daughter squealed in delight. “See ya met my friend here…” he added as he put his daughter down, his face aglow as he looked at Becky. This shifted to a look of displeasure when his eyes saw the dirt on her feet. 

“Honey, what’s with ya feet?” He tisked.

Lisa bumped into Elvis waist, pushing his arm around her shoulder as she giggled. “She’s been running ‘round outside without any shoes on…. And she flashed her big boobies at me getting dressed this morning…. AND she’s teaching me how ta be a vegetarian…”

Elvis left eye brow arched up high, looking from Lisa to Becky. “Oh reeALLLY…. Hmmm…. Looks like y'all been getting to know each other good..." He stepped over to Becky, hand around her waist, and whispered in her ear. "Honey, why don’t ya go wash up and put something nice on, maybe a little make-up?”

Becky frowned. “Think you can snap your fingers and I’ll —” 

Elvis walked her to the staircase, his hand rubbed her bare shoulders, his eyes melting away all the retorts forming in her mind as she took in the track suit he was wearing. His voice was soft but firm, “C’mon, go get presentable... want my daughter to see how beautiful ya are when I introduce ya…. Go on now.” He slapped her butt playfully as Becky turned, unable to stop her body from complying with his directions as her mind spun in a tizzy from the feel of his hands and the way his big blue eyes looked into hers with a mix of lust, admiration and smug bravado. Introduce me to your daughter my ass, I’ve spent the last six hours unpacking clothes, shooting guns, shopping and sewing with her.

But she thrilled with elation as she bounced toward the kitchen twenty minutes later, proud of the way she had done her make up and fixed herself after taking a quick rinse in the shower. Sweet Honesty was now her favorite perfume and she smelled her wrists backing into the kitchen’s swinging door,  gasping with delight at the sight of Lisa and Elvis in matching pink fringed vests. Lisa sat on the counter next to the sink, eating a sandwich, and called out with a full mouth. Her white Mary Jane shoes hit the cabinets below. “Becky! Lewk ift figs!!!” She pointed to her dad, and Elvis turned from the stove, running his hands over his vest.

“Jus what I been needed… a pink shiny vest… ! Gonna hafta keep ya round, I have a list of mending been tryin to get Delta to do for the last year.”

Becky curled her lips. “I won’t be darnin’ your socks, Presley…”

Elvis grabbed her hand and kissed her cheek with “Hesh… now, let me look at ya.” He twirled her around in the middle of the kitchen. “There she is…. now that’s better honey…  look, Goobernickle, the most beautiful girl in the world jus wandered in ta our kitchen, ain’t we lucky.” Lisa kicked him. “Sorry, how silly a me, second most beautiful gal in the world after that lil gal right there.” 

Becky blushed and Elvis kissed her hand, taking her to sit on the orange kitchen stool near the TV. Back at the stove, he flipped what looked like a grilled cheese sandwich out of the pan and onto a plate, cutting it in half and blowing on it as he brought it over.

“Get ready to have the most delicious thing in that mouth of yours since you got to Graceland…. I mean second most delicious…” Elvis stood in front of Becky, taking up a sandwich to feed her, chuckling at her horrified expression. Good, she got my innuendo, he thought, then looked back at Lisa who was obliviously chewing on the second half of her sandwich. “I meant after the corn bread you ate last night, whatcha think I meant? Crazy woman.”

Becky sighed, closing her eyes, her exhale a mix of exasperation and excitement as she opened her mouth to taste the sandwich Elvis guided in as he held her chin. 

She couldn’t help the instinctive reaction her body had to his voice, touch, and the way his eyes danced with impish joy at her unease. But Becky also found herself sickened by how weak she was, how her pussy tingled when she swallowed the salty, sweet goodness of the sandwich. Elvis thumbed along her jawline, much the same way he had when she had sucked his cock the previous day, and her eyes widened as she felt the buzzing energy of his touch caressing her face. She swatted him away and stifled the deep sensuous moan threatening to increase. Lisa Marie seemed unperturbed, jumping off the counter to get some milk from the fridge. Elvis chortled loudly at Becky’s angry stare and pushed another bite in her mouth. She rolled her eyes, then whimpered involuntarily at how the fried, buttery carby goodness hit the back of her throat. Becky had never been with anyone who pushed and pulled and blurred the boundaries between all the different aspects of her personality together at once.

Elvis winked.

“Tastes good, don’t it?”

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

Read Chapter 5 Here

Taglist : @whositmcwhatsit @woundmetender @powerofelvis @tacozebra051 @heartbrake-hotel@butlervol6 @ab4eva @richardslady121 @dkayfixates @azzawrites @searchingforgravity @sharebearkk @18lkpeters @elvispresleywife @moonchild-daniella @bisexualwvtson @eliseinmemphis @avengen @father-of-2cats @j-v-9-2 @lillypink @notstefaniepresley @stylespresleyhearted @godlypresley@literally-just-elvis-fics @coolgirl462 @elvisabutler @beeandheroddobsessions

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#no one walks out on big daddy #elvis x OC #big daddy elvis #elvis presely smut #elvis presley fan fiction #elvis fan fiction #elvis fan fic #1970s elvis

[kangnina]

Seo Changbin at your Service

***This is my drabble that was previously posted on my old account thatonenoona

After a particularly hard break up, you're on your couch in a wine-stained dinosaur onesie, feeling sorry for yourself and shoveling ice cream into your face. This is pathetic. I need a distraction. Turning on the TV, a commercial appears. A muscular man with dark fluffy hair, wearing coveralls smiles at you: “Call Seo Changbin for all your repair needs. Broken washing machine? Call Binnie. Broken refrigerator? Call Binnie. Seo Changbin at your service. Any time, day or night. Satisfaction guaranteed.”

You wonder: Can he fix a broken heart? He did say "satisfaction guaranteed." You dial the number on the TV screen before you come to your senses. There's only one way to find out ....

********

A knock on your front door makes you jump. “Hello! Seo Changbin, at your service!” If Changbin had arrived even one minute later, you could’ve snuck out the back door and waited in the park across the street until he left. Maybe he’d think he came to the wrong house or it was just a prank call. Yet, true to his word, Changbin was on your doorstep 15 minutes after you called him. You don’t know what came over you. It all happened so fast. Seeing his smiling face on your TV and then hearing his cheerful voice over the phone made you completely forget that 1) you hadn’t showered for two days and probably looked like shit and 2) there isn’t a damn thing in your house that’s broken– except your heart and obviously your sanity. In a panic, you realize that this man is trying to run a business and you’ve gone de lu lu to think he has time for you and your thirsty shenanigans. If I get low enough, I can still get to the back door. Lowering yourself onto your belly, you start to worm your way to the kitchen.

“Ma’am! Are you okay?! Are you hurt?! Should I call an ambulance?!” You look back over your shoulder to see Changbin looking at you through the window next to the front door. YOU. A grown ass adult in a dinosaur onesie, on the floor trying to spy crawl out of your own living room. You’re literally paralyzed with embarrassment. “Don’t worry ma’am! I’ll call for help!” he yells, pulling out his phone. Jumping up, you run to the door, flinging it open. You swat at his phone and it flies into the shrubbery.

“Aay! Whaa—”

“Noooooo! I’m fine! I just– you don’t– I…” Changbin just stares at you, confused. But even his confused face is just so damn cute. He stares at you for a moment longer.

“Okaaayyy. Well, I should – uh, get to work then I guess– just let me find my phone,” he says, digging into the shrubs.

“Yeah, about that. Look, I’m sorry... There isn’t anything actually broken.” 

“Yes, there is,” he says, pulling out his shattered phone. He examines it. You close your eyes, thinking, this has to be the single most embarrassing shit I have ever done. EVER. Before you can say anything, Changbin laughs at his phone and now it’s your turn to look at him confused. 

“It’s been one hell of a day. This was going to be my last job for today. But no work and no phone means it’s time to go home and enjoy a beer. Ma’am,” Changbin nods, then turns to leave.“Wait! Please, come in. I’ll make you a drink. It’s the least I can do for causing you all of this trouble.” You gesture toward your kitchen. Changbin thinks for a moment. He looks at his phone again and then smiles at you as he walks into your house. “If I stay for a drink, will you tell me why you really called me?

#skz #seo changbin #changbin #skz changbin #stray kids #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #seo changbin stray kids #skz seo changbin #stray kids drabbles #skz drabbles #skz imagines #changbin stray kids #changbin skz #changbin scenarios #skz au #stray kids au #skz angst #skz fanfic #changbin fanfic #changbin x reader #changbin x you #skz x reader #skz x you #kpop imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #changbin drabbles #seo changbin fanfic #seo changbin scenarios

[devildom-moss]

hiii! i just saw your requests are open and imagine my excitement!! bcs aaa i rlly really love your writings💕💕theyre such a treat to read, the shenanigans and character interactions are so captivatingly written that i am: Smitten

could i req: a short platonic fic where luke teaches you (gn!mc), a chronic instant noodles eater++kitchen-illiterate person, how to cook?

i think it wud be a funny sight for the rest of purgatory hall getting to see this lil angel easily navigate a stove/handles a knife while the actual adult is struggling not to mix sugar nd salt (also ik he mostly bakes but im of the mind that canon was meant to be ignored HAHA and besides theres not enough fics of luke gettin to be mc's guardian angel)

please tag me @diodellet too, thank you (not to rush u or anyth, by all means take your time to work your magic, writing words gets hard smtimes) 💕💕💕i hope you have a wonderful day and remember to hydrate!!

Thank you so much! That’s so sweet! I hope you’ll like it. I'm sorry that it got a little (or a lot) longer than I intended, but it was a really cute idea. @diodellet

Luke teaching a kitchen-illiterate gn!MC to cook

“You know, MC,” Simeon mused, handing you a sandwich, “I’d like to try your home cooking someday.”

The members of Purgatory Hall had invited you to a picnic – Simeon and Luke prepared all the food. Solomon offered to help them, but Simeon insisted that since it was Luke’s idea to have a picnic that day, Luke should be responsible for the cooking. However, as Luke’s guardian, Simeon had to be there to help. Usually, Luke would have protested being treated like a child, but if it got Solomon out of the kitchen, he’d tolerate it.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Solomon laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Raphael asked.

“MC doesn’t cook,” Solomon informed everyone on your behalf.

“What?” Luke was shocked. “Why not? What do you do when it’s your day to cook? I thought you and those demons split the chores up.”

“I usually just order out or get some of those pre-made meals. Honestly, we eat a lot of instant food when I’m on cooking duty. I can’t really do much without ruining the food.”

“You’re joking, right?” Simeon chuckled, but when you failed to laugh along, his face stiffened up. “Right?”

“Nope, they’re completely lost in the kitchen. Asmo told me that he tried to teach them how to make an omelet and everything inside was undercooked and cut into huge, uneven chunks. They even burned the eggs,” Solomon told on you.

“Oh, you’re one to insult someone’s cooking.” You narrowed your eyes at him before turning back to the bewildered angels. “But he’s right. I’m pretty incompetent in the kitchen. No one ever really taught me, and they’re not usually patient enough for me to learn.”

“That’s unacceptable, MC!” Luke shouted. “You need to be able to cook. What if you get sick from poor nutrition? Besides, cooking is fun. I’ll teach you.”

“Luke, you don’t have to do that. That sounds like it will be a lot of trouble for you.” You declined his offer, worried that he was simply pitying you.

“Nonsense! I insist! If you don’t learn, I’ll always be worried about you eating right or getting hurt in the kitchen. Just come for one lesson. If you hate it, we’ll figure something else out. Please?”

“Okay,” you admitted defeat. “Thank you, Luke.”

“Good.” Luke grinned. “Come to Purgatory Hall tomorrow afternoon.”

Simeon greeted you at the door that afternoon, a bright smile on his face. “I’m so glad you’re here. Luke has been up since early morning getting ready for your arrival.”

“Simeon!” Luke shouted at him, flushed with embarrassment. “It wasn’t that early. Come in, MC. Raphael made you an apron last night, so he’s still asleep.”

You put on the well-made and rather adorable apron and followed Luke to the kitchen. Jars of spices and nearly a dozen fruits and vegetables were set out on the counter. Luke went through the trouble of picking out produce that he had seen you eat before and ones that weren’t especially difficult to prepare or handle.

“Uhm, so,” you drew out the “o” sound while you scrambled to figure out what he had planned, but you were at a loss. “What are we making today?”

“Take a guess.”

“Salad?” you responded, uncertain of your guess.

“No – but that would have been a good beginner meal, too. We’re making soup – well, actually, curry.” Luke beamed at you, quite proud of his choice. “Curry is highly customizable. We can make it mild or spicy to suit your tastes, we can make it vegan or vegetarian, and you can change up the ingredients with the seasons. And there’s nothing more comforting and loving than making soup for yourself and those you care about.”

“Is curry a soup?” you questioned him.

“Well, let’s not get into that.” Simeon laughed awkwardly. He turned to Luke and pat him on the head gently. “I’m leaving MC in your hands, Luke. Be a good little teacher and call me over if you need help with anything.”

“Simeon! I’ve got this,” Luke whined and began pushing Simeon out of the kitchen from behind. Simeon waved goodbye to you during his forceful expulsion.

You put your hand to your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing or cracking a smile at how cute they were. When Luke returned guardian-less he symbolically dusted his hands off and instructed, “okay, we both need to wash our hands before we start cooking. Then we’ll wash all the produce you want to use.”

“Yessir,” you saluted him in jest before following orders. With clean hands, you perused the options.

Among other ingredients, there were two varieties of Devildom mushrooms, peppers, potatoes, revelation tomatoes, ghost pumpkin, and putrid pineapple. Your eyes landed on a deep red stalk. You picked it up. “What’s this one, Luke, some kind of Devildom celery?”

Luke blinked at you in amazement. “That’s rhubarb. It’s a human world vegetable. Solomon decided to grow some.”

“O-oh,” you set it down, embarrassed and half-expecting Luke to laugh.

“That’s okay. It does fit in with Devildom fruit and vegetables, doesn’t it?” Luke smiled at you innocently.

“I guess so. How many fruits and vegetables should I pick?”

“A couple. Add what you think will taste good. I’ll let you know if you make any awful choices, but I trust you.”

Something about his confidence in the face of your absolute lack of skill was comforting – like it was unlikely that you would fail, and if you might, he’d guide you away from a Solomon-level disaster. You grabbed the ghost pumpkin, chickpeas, red peppers, and a Devildom variety of chili pepper. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, that will be great.”

“Is there anything you want to add, Luke?”

“Let’s add some revelation tomatoes! Barbatos brought these over just yesterday and they look amazing. We should add garlic and shallots or onions, too. Those are usually a given in curry, though.”

“I’m learning already,” you smiled through your words.

Luke watched over you diligently. After showing you the proper technique, he kept an eye out as you minced the garlic and shallots. He even corrected your hand position before he let you cut anything, ensuring that your fingers were curled or at least out of the way. It was adorable to hear him call the curled hand position the “cat paw.” In its own way, it was also pretty cute to watch a little angel holding a big knife. When you finished cutting up your half of the roasted pumpkin a good minute after Luke had finished his, it looked disappointing. Although, to be fair, Simeon and Solomon popping their head out from the hall to get a peak into the kitchen was a bit distracting.

“It’s kind of a mess compared to yours,” you noted, sheepishly.

“That’s okay.” Luke grinned and scooped your pumpkin pieces into the bowl with his. “They’re all about the same size, and there’s no seeds on them. They’ll cook up fine, and once they’re in the curry, no one will notice if they weren’t cut up that nicely as long as the food tastes good.”

You were taken aback by his optimism and sweetness – and so was whoever took a sharp inhale from the living room.

You and Luke were halfway through cutting the peppers and the aromatics were already in the pot along with a roux – adjusted to your spice level – when Solomon entered the kitchen. “Mind if I help you out in here?”

“Oh, no thank you.” You shook your head and added the coconut milk into the pot as Luke had instructed. “Luke’s doing a great job teaching me.”

“I’m a great cook,” he lied, mostly to himself, “I’m sure I could teach you a thing or two.”

“They said ‘no,’ Solomon. We can do this ourselves.”

“Come on,” Solomon tried to persuade you both.

“I’m bonding with Luke, so no.”

That was enough to shut Solomon up. He couldn’t bring himself to come between yours and Luke’s bonding time. “Can we at least come in and watch?”

“’We?’” you questioned him.

“It’s so boring trying to watch from the living room. Simeon couldn’t see well when you accidentally turned on the back burner and wondered why the pot hadn’t heated up after 5 minutes. It was really funny.”

“Your stove is different than the one at the House of Lamentation, you rude old wizard.”

“Come on, it was also really cute, MC.”

“As cute as one of your wizard staffs giving you a prostate exam?” You narrowed your eyes at him. Luke decided to tune out your fighting as he dumped the vegetables and chickpeas into the water.

“Maybe, but that’s a bit kinky to mention in front of Luke.” Solomon laughed and turned away. “Anyway, I’m going to get the others.”

“It was an insult you dirty old–” you started, but it was too late; he was already down the hall – and you didn’t actually have an insult on hand. Luke sighed and shook his head at you two. It wasn’t like he was above bickering, but no one should argue in a kitchen.

“While we have a minute, the last thing we need to cut up is the revelation tomato. We need to give it a secret, something good. I think we should both tell it a secret, what do you think, MC?”

“Okay. I’ll go first.” You looked at Luke’s adorable face as you took the tomato and made your choice. “Dear tomato, Luke is a really good teacher, and I’m glad he offered to teach me because I’m pretty useless in the kitchen. It’s usually embarrassing and pretty scary, but not when Luke is here to help. I’m really proud of him. And I know we’re not done with the dish yet, but I’m proud of myself, too – at least a bit.”

You handed the tomato to Luke. Sure, it wasn’t the juiciest of secrets, but you were happy with it. It felt right – like how the vegetables you picked out felt right or how the spices you added felt right. Luke stepped into the corner to whisper his secret to the tomato.

Luke had just finished telling the tomato his secret when Simeon, Raphael, and Solomon piled into the kitchen.

“So, how’s it going?” Simeon asked sweetly.

“MC’s doing a great job,” Luke bragged on your behalf while you focused on dicing the tomato. Whatever secret Luke had shared, the combination of both of your secrets had combined to make a perfectly juicy tomato that was fragrant and slightly sweet.

“Smells good,” Raphael commented.

“Thank you, Raph. And thank you for the apron. It’s cute.”

“No problem. I’m glad you didn’t cut any fingers off or get any blood on it.” Everyone ignored his grim comment. “You should take it home with you for when you cook for the brothers. I can always make you an apron specifically for here.”

“We could have matching aprons, MC!” Luke almost jumped with joy before restraining himself. He added, timidly, “Of course, that’s only if you want to have more cooking lessons.”

“I’d love to, Luke.”

You added the tomatoes into the pot, gave it a stir, turned the heat down, and added the lid on to allow the curry to simmer. Luke clapped his hands together and said, “Excellent. Lunch will be ready soon. I prepared some rice to go along with it.”

“When did you have time to do that?” you asked, stunned by what seemed to be the sudden appearance of a rice cooker on one of the counters. How had you not heard that going?

“While you were chopping vegetables.”

“Well, I’ll go set the table.” Simeon was reluctant to leave the precious sight of you and Luke in the kitchen. He never imagined you’d be so lost, nor did he imagine that Luke would make such an excellent teacher. Still, at least he would have the opportunity to see his favorite angel sorry Raphael and favorite human not sorry Solomon cooking together again.

“I’ll get some Demonus and some juice for Luke.” Raphael took his leave.

With every bowl filled, you stared around the table nervously. Who should take the first bite? What if it was awful? Confident, Luke dug in. You watched him carefully.

“This is good – if I do say so myself. You did a great job, MC.”

“It’s delicious,” Simeon added with a grin.

“Asmo would never believe that you made this,” Solomon offered his backhanded compliment. “I’m going to take a picture and share it on Devilgram. I should caption it ‘Thank you Luke and MC for making lunch.’”

“Good job, you two.” Raphael nodded.

“I couldn’t have done this without Luke.” All the praise was starting to get embarrassing, so you turned to Luke. “Thank you so much for teaching me.”

Luke was grinning from ear to ear. He could ace all his exams and he still wouldn’t feel prouder than he was now.

Bonus:

Luke’s secret:

“I’m so happy that I can finally help MC with something. They’re always helping me out, and I don’t get to repay the favor very often. I’m worried about them being alone, but if they can cook, that’s one less thing I have to worry about. I hope I can keep teaching them, and they’ll think of me as someone they can rely on.”

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to finally get to another request. I've been kind of out of it, and instead of committing to one request and finishing it, I started like 4 at once. I'll try to get on with the others soon, though.

#luke #simeon #solomon #raphael #gn!mc #anon #requests #diodellet #ask #obey me #obey me purgatory hall #I hope that my love of soup and curry comes through in this #also I feel like I've been in a real bully Solomon mood recently #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me raphael

[unhingedhousehold]

hairdresser

summary: it's bradley's first craft and he's proud of it, and he didn't know the response he received would be more than a simple thank you.

haha I'm bad at giving summary and title haha also what am i doing this blog is supposed to be my reading blog

pairing: bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, implied smut, friends to lovers i think, fem!reader, no use of y/n, reader has enough hair to get tied up, love confession???, mainly written using bradley's pov, bad grammar, me being inconsistent of using the dagger squad's real name or their call signs so it's mix up hahaha, blatantly copying wikihow on how to tie a ponytail helppppp

words: around 2,5k+ i think

note: so.. here is my first baby. this is my first attempt at writing after so many years and I'm so used t reading fics now i feel like i wanted to try out to write something. please be advised that english isn't my first language and I'm only familiar to write using my native language (which isn't english) so i apologized if you found any grammatical errors or repeated words 😢

i don't consent of my work being translated or copied, please be respectful of someone's work!

For anyone who didn’t know better, they would have called Bradley a creep with the way his eyes set on you the moment Phoenix dragged you away from him to join her defeat Coyote and Hangman in a game of pool. Bradley looks at you softly, eyes smitten and a small smile formed at his beautiful lips as he held back his laughter when he saw you successfully pocketed a ball and laughed at Jake's face as he rolled his eyes because you started making funny faces to rile him further.

You’re feet away, but he can hear your sweet laughs going through his ears and why does it feel like you’re exist in another dimension? You seem so far from where he's sitting, and it’s stupid because few strides and he would have you in his embrace. He didn’t know where his relationship with you stand because calling it a friend seems like it defeats what you truly mean in his life because you’re more than a friend to him.

Phoenix told him you’re his caretaker, looking at how you always make sure he had his dentist apointment scheduled on his phone calendar, you cook for him sometimes because Bradley would not have made it this far if he only had boxed mac and cheese and frozen pizza stocked at his refrigerator to survive. Payback mentioned in his drunken state on Hangman's birthday how you are Rooster's guardian angel and he wished he had someone like you, who would pick him up after a crazy shenanigans resulted of too many drinks just like you who got Bradley’s back to make sure he is sober enough to function the next day. And it’s a funny memory to him when Halo one day asked him if his girlfriend is kidnapped or what because she hasn’t replied her text since yesterday but to call you as his girlfriend seems too much (he’s not sure if you scolding him when you 'found out he didn’t use warm temperature to wash his white clothes to make it as clean as possible and Bradley got more earful from you when he said he didn’t even wash his white and colored linens separately to avoid color transfer' count as a girlfriend thing to do because Bob says it is), to put friends with benefits label just like what Hangman said is kind of not right because although you two spent few nights got tangled and panting each other’s name, he didn’t merely just see you for someone to please his biological needs.

To put it lightly, in Bradley's mind, you’re more than what he could’ve put in words.

But what he surely knows is that, he didn’t take it well when some-officer-he-didn’t-know-what-his-name-is tried to give it a try to ask you out last month. He didn’t straight up ask you yet though, he asked Bob after training saying if that girl you’ve gone grocery shopping for BBQ night at Fanboy’s with is spoken for, and Coyote who stood next to Bob swore he never saw Bradley gave someone a death glare that hard before. Coyote took the matters into his own hand for the sake of Bradley’s sanity (and for whoever the poor guy is to live longer), and instead of meeting Bob’s reply, he was met with Coyote's “She’s in a whatever relationship with someone, I suppose. Saw her came in to The Hard Deck with a guy last night.” Coyote didn’t specify who is the guy, but everyone who’s present at The Hard Deck last night knew he’s talking about Bradley.

Poor that guy for not knowing though, and Bradley wouldn't say it.

He was in a deep thought to the point he didn’t hear a feminine voice from a woman who’s standing next to him pointing to an empty seat next to his, apparently she's been trying to get his attention by asking him ‘Sir, is this seat taken?’ to which he said no (honestly, it’s kind of taken; you sat on it few minutes ago but now you’re not.. so it should be vacant, right? And if you’re back and found that your seat has been taken, Bradley would offer you his lap sit on. Ha. Sly. And kind of smart.) Bradley shakes his head, let the woman sit and setting his gaze at you again. You’re now bending over the pool table, brows furrowed to make your shoot but Hangman being the menace he is, checking you out from behind and all Bradley wanted to do was drown him or smack his big head.

Whatever relationship?

Well, that works too.

Maybe whatever is right. It doesn’t matter what relationship you and Bradley have, because you’re always with him and he’s always seen with you.

Maybe having no label to the relationship wouldn’t make it weird for further rendezvous you both got caught up in. He’s not sure if you’re up for a relationship, considering you have had your fair share of failed relationships before, and Bradley assumed he carries a lot of emotional baggages to even start a relationship, let alone a serious one.

“Beer sounds good.” He heard her called a new bartender Penny just hired last week, Gio, asking him for two bottles of beer. Bradley still had his eyes on you, who’s now laughing at whatever jabs Payback threw at Jake. He ponders for a bit, has he ever made you laugh like that? Because Bradley didn’t think he had a good sense of humor, thanks to years of being so tense in attempts to build his walls so high no one would be able to get in.

“I’m like new in town and I have no idea what to order.” A voice beside him surprised his train of thought, he didn’t think the woman would want to make a conversation with him but honestly, who is he kidding?

He’s charming, it’s no wonder people would take their chance to try with him, and it would be so stupid to not at least indulge him for a convo or two. He thought for a bit and said, “Maybe a beer.” He knew it sounded somewhat rude, why didn’t he say something like ‘What’s your preference?’ or ‘The bartender is good at giving recommendations, you can ask him. Sorry I can’t be a help’ but in Bradley’s defense, he didn’t know much about drinks despite the amount of time and money he spent at The Hard Deck (Penny jokingly said the reason why Amelia took a piano class is because Bradley gives the best tip, he laughed).

He felt a cold sensation on his arm, and he looked to his right and saw a bottle of beer shoved to him by the woman whose name he didn’t recall because he’s been looking at you the whole time instead of making a small talk.

“You didn’t have a drink so I suppose buying you one wouldn’t be a bad idea.” She said with ease, smile gracing her feature when he accepted the beer out of politeness, and she clinked the head of her bottle to his and took one small gulp.

(He didn’t have his drink on him because you brought it with you, and he felt butterflies in his stomach when he realized you drank from the same bottle as him so it should count as indirect kissing, no? And he found it funny at the thought because you two have been down at each other’s throat before, done more than kissings and make outs, and oh god he has seen your naked figure too! So why did the idea of you drinking from the same bottle as him made him weak at the knees? This whatever relationship has started to mess up his brain, he thinks.)

He said thanks, and the woman started to make a move by starting a conversation with the infomation that she just moved to San Diego few days ago as a result of her friend’s recommendation. Bradley gave what a good friend you have as his answer and she chuckled. She took his answer as a green light to prolong the conversation, asking what does he do, if the job is worth the salary, if he frequents the bar often, if he just got back from a summer Hawaii trip and got the shirt as souvenir, she babbled about it’s kind of sad the owner of the place she’s staying at didn’t allow any pets, thus she couldn’t bring her dog with her and suddenly all the sound around him is muted and he couldn’t hear what is she saying when she explained about her next door neighboor who didn’t have a pechant of shame for having sex at 2am, because there you are, a human form of sunshine, walking to him.

You rummaged through your slingbag for a while. Bradley didn't say anything, like it's a common occurrence to have your bag with him and he keeps an eye on it. The woman next to him asking him something like if he knows a good Italian restaurant and when he apologized for not having a knowledge about it, he felt a small fist from you swatting his chest lightly and you grumbled, there's one that we frequent to, how could you forget! and when he looked at your expression, he saw you pouting, not because he didn't remember he went to an Italian restaurant with you, but because you didn’t find what you’re looking for in the bag.

He sat up straight, unconsciously fixing his shirt (there’s nothing to fix), placing his beer at the counter behind him. Your hair is a bit damp due to the heat the bar produces and how hard you tried to win the game, few strands of hair falling all over your face, and you smiled so bright he’s sure the sun would’ve wanted to put its job to rest and have you up there instead.

You reached for your slingbag when you arrived in front of Bradley; it’s slung over Bradley’s broad and wide shoulder, it’s kind of a cute sight because your yellow slingbag matches the yellow Hawaiian shirt he chose to wear tonight. You pointed it out earlier when you get on his Bronco, and he asked if you had a blue slingbag because maybe you can match again for next week BBQ night at Mav’s.

Bradley tried his best to not kiss you and opted to ask you what's gotten you pouting.

“Are you looking for something?”

“Yeah. My hairtie. It’s so hot here,” you fanned yourself with your hands, lifting your head and had your eyes scanning for someone before it lands on the new bartender, “Hey, Gio! Tell Penny to have the cooling system near the pool table fixed!” Bradley chuckled because you have already told Gio the same thing few days ago, but it seems like the news didn’t deliver to Penny well. That’s the main reason why he had a black hairtie on his left wrist, because you didn’t have it too when you need it few days ago despite you insisted you already put it in your bag beforehand.

“Turn around.” He said, though you’re kind of confused as to why, but you did anyway.

You were about to threw some jokes asking if he is going to lift your shirt up and splash you cold beer on your back when you felt Bradley’s hand gathering your hair in place, and you realized he’s not trying to splash you, he’s trying to tie your hair into ponytail. He asked if it’s too high or too low and you said to lower it a bit as you wanted it to be mid-height ponytail. Bradley did what you asked, and you felt his free hand trying to catch any hair that comes loose around the base of your neck and gather it back. You felt his big hand smooth around your top, bottom and the sides of your head, and then his hand moved to brush the hair at the nape of your neck upwards. You can feel your cheeks getting warm, and you can’t hold the stupid smile that's started to make its way to appear. You’re thankful Bradley can’t see it though, or you will be embarassed for life for being super giddy over Bradley trying to tie your hair.

Bradley pull the hair tie off his wrist and onto your ponytail – not too low not too high. He pulls the ponytail through the hair tie, twist it two times and it’s done. Bradley looked a his first ever ponytail work proudly, hands moving to your hips and and turn you around to face him again.

Here you are, standing in between his open legs and few strands of baby hairs falling in front of your face. Bradley put them behind your ear, quietly making a note to bring some of hairclips next time because your bangs is getting longer too and it gets on your eyes. You smiled to him, sweet smile reaching your eyes. You move your body forward a bit, Bradley's protective hands stilled on your hips trying to balance you in case you're kinda drunk to stand up straight.

He practically can hear the sound of his heart beating so fast due to the close proximity (for god’s sake he had been in much more close proximity with you before!), and for a while he thought you’re going to give him a hug as a thank you, but to his disappointment, you reached for a beer in which he puts at the counter behind him earlier. You took one gulp and pressed a big soft kiss on his left cheek. His cheeks that felt warm earlier now feels like it’s freezing cold under your cold and wet lips. If you felt his body froze at the sudden kiss, you didn’t say anything about it and you gave him a wave as you make your way back to the pool table and happily said, “Thanks for being my hairdresser and the beer! I love you!”

He couldn’t move a single muscle on his body, his hands awkwardly unmoved in the air and he felt a warmth in his heart after hearing what you said. He blinked a few times and sheepishly rubbed his neck when he found his muscles back to its function in his body, his ears ringing he couldn’t remember what’s the song and the lyrics from the jukebox is about as the only thing his mind registers is Thanks for being my hairdresser and the beer! I love you!

I love you!

I love you!

I love you!

I love you!

You love him.

And he loves you for that.

“Wow, no wonder my attempts to flirt with you didn’t work. You have a girlfriend.” The woman from earlier pointed something Bradley been too afraid to voice out, and he had a big stupid smiley face because a total stranger who didn’t know the nature of your relationship just call you as his girlfriend and it’s because she just saw him tied your hair? How ridiculous, a friend can do that too! Right?

But as much as ridiculous it sounds, he liked the sound of that.

Maybe calling you his girlfriend is not too much.

You’re his gilfriend. And because he loves you and he's a gentleman at heart, he will ask you out on a proper date as his girlfriend.

And you will say yes because you love him.

omg i gave a birth to my first baby 🥹 ahsjsk I'm used to read things it's weird to write somethinf lol nevertheless i hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it, if you're reading it until the end, i can't thank you enough for giving it a try to read! thank yoiu thank you thank you ❤ ahshsj I've had this idea for a while but idk where to request this kind of thing so i took the matter into my own hand and tada. gave birth to my first baby lol

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfiction #top gun maverick x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fluff

[deejadabbles]

Okay IDK what happened with my inbox, but I know someone sent this song to me for the song fic game, even if the ask isn't there anymore (i saved it to my drafts while my wifi was wonky so maybe it's in the tumblr aether somewhere?). Anywho, hopefully you see this, whoever you are <3

For this song, I'm going to write Jesse for the first time, and because I have the unexplainable urge to step on this man, you're all getting a slightly dominant reader this time around lol

Warnings for: highly suggestive themes (minors don't look!), drinking, and the sexy shenanigans we expect at 79s

Jesse was not a man easily taken by surprise. It just came with the territory, he couldn't afford to let anything captivate or shock him on the battlefield.

But when you walked in to 79s?

Oh, Jesse knew he would do anything he could to get close to you, or damn if he wouldn't die trying.

You walked in with some friends, but something about you stood out like gold in a sea of silver. He was vaguely aware of Fives nudging him, saying something about your group matching their numbers perfectly, but Jesse was too busy gawking like some shinny.

When you moved by him to get to the bar he swore you locked eyes with him for just a moment. And that was all the confidence boost he needed.

After flashing his brother a knowing look, Jesse sauntered up to the bar, making sure to fill as much space near you as possible- hey, he didn't get arms like pythons and thighs like tree trunks for nothing, after all.

"So, you and your friends want some handsome troopers to buy your drinks?"

He saw the way your brows quirked up, before your eyes or head turned in his direction. Then, those eyes that were starting to remind him of a tiger looked him up and and down.

"Sure, we'll let you boys buy our drinks."

Kriffing hell, that voice! Obviously you were someone who made sure every inch of you, every side, was as captivating as the last. Again, Jesse only vaguely took notice to the fact that Fives, Tup, and Kix were paring off with your friends. Right now, all his senses were taken up with you.

"So," he began, just as the bartender handed you a drink, "what's your name, gorgeous?"

You huffed a laugh, took a sip, then said, "Wouldn't you like to know."

And just like that, you turned on your perfect heels, and walked away from him.

To his credit, Jesse only needed a second to recover, something stirring low in his belly. It wasn't just the arousal he felt anytime he spotted someone he wanted to take home, this was similar but...new. A different kind of arousal, a brand of it that he wasn't used to feeling.

Jesse didn't waste a beat, he followed, gave chase as you swayed onto the dance floor.

"If you wanted to dance before your drink, you could have just said so," he called over the music and putting on his most charming smile. The one that got him comm numbers and little lacy souvenirs to tuck in his pocket.

But all you did was look over your shoulder at him, taking another drink before your hips started swaying. When he didn't back down, you sashayed your body to face him, a look somewhere between disinterest and mild amusement on your face.

"Listen, trooper, I don't want to waste my time, so I'll warn you now: I'm a hard woman to please, so either walk away, or prove you're worth my attention."

That sensation in his belly was flaring, and he felt his grin widen. Making sure he gave you time to pull away if you wanted, Jesse reached out, and gripped your hip. Not breaking his gaze from yours, he drew you in just a little closer. Enough to tease, enough to leave you wanting more.

"Oh, baby, I can do that."

He didn't even know how much time passed that night. Somewhere between the dancing and the drinks, he managed to prove himself enough to tug you into a hallway lit only by a neon sign. He was pulling out all the stops, using every skill his mouth and hands had learned to make you his.

But it still wasn't quite enough.

You hadn't moaned and whimpered like the others, you weren't begging him for more and writhing in his touch like it was heaven incarnate.

And that just spurred him on all the more.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered in your ear, breath hot, armor so painfully tight he might just be willing to beg you for any scrap of guidance on how to make you his.

You lifted your leg, opening up for him, inviting, "I'm sure a smart man like you can think of something," you purred, "Or is that mouth of yours just good at talking?"

Jesse felt all his bravado fall away in an instant. He didn't waste any time in sinking to his knees for you.

taglist: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5

#I felt very powerful writing this and I hope you do reading it lol #jesse x reader #clone trooper jesse x reader #arc trooper jesse x reader #deeja writes

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist (24)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 /Part 19 /Part 20 / Part 21 /Part 22 / Part 23 /

Last Checked:—-

Moonlight Kisses-Buttercupbadass (ao3) Summary: Sometimes you think you have everything you ever wanted then the one you can't live without walks in your door. Much Too Far To Go Alone-dracoisalooker76 (ao3) Summary: "We all get addicted by something that takes away the pain" (Belle Aurora). Modern AU. Grey's Anatomy Inspired. Not a Walk in the Park-HGfanonezillion (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta try desperately to keep the peace as their daughter Lily is getting ready for a date and their sons are giving her a hard time. Not One Moment-C_r_roberts (ao3) Summary: I wonder if he knows. Does he know how grateful I am to have him–the real him–back in my life? He tempers my temper. He makes me laugh, even when I don’t want to. He makes me feel safe, even when the entire world feels dangerous. And most importantly, he makes me feel good again. Alive, even. With Peeta, I want to keep living. Growing together. Canon-compliant. Of Buttercup and Mistletoe-Alliswell (ao3) Summary: Bring out the popcorn and hot cocoa, because this one is just chock full of Everlark Christmas shenanigans! One Moment More-dracoisalooker76 (ao3) Summary: "He stumbles up, a tiny little thing in clothes a size too big that are obviously hand-me-downs from his two brothers, and when he stands beside Katniss I see that they’re the same height. Effie Trinket is trying but she can’t hide the look of devastation she holds, clearly upset that Peeta isn’t eighteen and handsome and able to get her out of this mess." When the mine accident does not occur, the Everdeens are forced into a different sacrifice.  One New Message-HGfanonezillion (ao3) Summary: Peeta and Katniss are Tumblr mutuals who have told each other nothing about each other irl, especially not their real names. Little do they know that Katniss is set to inherit her family’s big chain bakery business that’s slowly encroaching on smaller bakeries like Peeta’s family’s corner shop. Open Window-burkygirl, Peetabreadgirl, Xerxia (ao3) Summary: Peeta Mellark's quiet life is changed forever when a mysterious woman moves in upstairs, filling his world with music. Based on the OTP Prompt - Imagine your OTP as neighbors. A tends to sing at night and normally B would complain but their voice is really nice and they often find themselves comforted by it. One day, A’s songs start becoming more and more depressed and sometimes they’d stop because they were crying. B gets worried and starts talking to A to cheer them up/find out what’s wrong. Turns out A’s partner cheated on them/family member died/whatever and they’d started feeling a little depressed. A and B become close friends and after a while, A starts singing love songs at night. Operation Toast (an Everlark Text Fic)-Alliswell, AlwaysEverlark, JHsgf82, MegaAuLover (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta haven’t seen each other since High School...until their friends decide it’s time for them to acknowledge their old feelings. Paint a Sky and Stars-authoresskika (ao3) Summary: Post-Epilogue Canon; "Difficult as the baby might be, Peeta wants him to enjoy the same sort of holiday magic his big sister gets. But therein lies the problem of a fretful infant: what does he want for but his mother's breast and a comforting embrace? His needs are infinitely basic. So how on Earth can those be made special enough for a gift?"

#t #teen and up masterlist #masterlist #everlark #everlark fanfiction #thg #thg fanfiction #thglibrary masterlist

[roboticspacecase]

BillDip promt:first date

Ahh an excuse to write fluff, yes >:3c

The last thing Dipper had expected when he was asked out by a handsome, seemingly normal guy on a dating app, was to end up gripping the passenger seat of a fancy sports car while his date stared down an empty parking lot.

"Don't you dare," Dipper laughed, gripping the seat tighter. "You just took me out to that nice restaurant and fed me all that pasta, and I don't think either of us want to see it again. Especially since this time it’ll be all over your dashboard."

Bill's intense gaze shifted from the pavement to Dipper, a large, smarmy grin on his face. "You saw how good of a driver I was when I got us from your place to the restaurant in that funky traffic jam. We made it on time for our reservation, didn't hit anyone or anything, and I didn't get pulled over!"

Dipper rolled his eyes, still smiling. During the two weeks that he and Bill spoke over messages, the blond had mentioned that he enjoyed doing things that, “got the heart pumping”. But Dipper had always thought that had been some sort of sexual joke, not that he actually wanted to fling his car around at high speeds the second they drove by an empty lot.

“How about we do a few donuts, then we park and give my poor stomach a chance to catch up with the night?” He leaned back in his seat, preparing himself for the ride. “I think I can handle at least a few.” Their night had been going well enough that Dipper would feel bad if he shut down Bill’s fun too quickly, so he didn’t mind putting up with more of the blond’s shenanigans.

Bill lit up, his baby blue eyes twinkling from the dim glow of his headlights. “Sounds good to me, Pine Tree!” He revved the engine a couple of times before shifting the car into gear and slamming his foot down on the gas.

The tires screeched as they whirled around the lamp posts and empty parking spots. The two of them got thrown around a bit with each turn, though both could be heard laughing over the sound of the rubber on pavement.

Thankfully, Bill stuck to only doing a few and came to an abrupt stop once they had made their mark on the lot.

“Bet you’ve never had a date end with something that exciting, huh?”

Dipper looked at Bill, a large smile on his face. “I dunno, one guy took me to see a movie then took me to a grocery store ‘cause he needed something and didn’t want to go back out again after dropping me off. So I guess you could say this is a close second.”

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?” The blond put his car into park, then adjusted the seat so that it was lying all the way back. “Then I’ll just have to one-up him and take a nap right here and now so that I don’t have to sleep after dropping you off.”

As soon as Bill closed his eyes and pretended to fake snore, Dipper burst out laughing and nudged the blond’s arm. “As much as I like your commitment to making this a super fun date, I think it’s about time I let my poor stomach lie down.”

“Your poor stomach, huh?” Bill got up and laid himself over Dipper, reaching for the latch to lay his seat down at well.

It popped into place too suddenly for Dipper to keep up with, he and Bill both falling backwards in an awkward position, Bill right on his stomach.

“Fuck, sorry,” he laughed. “Didn’t mean to come onto you that hard, but hey, you’re laying down now! Your poor stomach can rest easy in my car.”

“Not with you on top of it,” Dipper grunted. He gave the blond a playful shove, not actually trying to get him off. “Maybe if we carefully get back to my place before it gets too late, we can both… I dunno, maybe let our stomachs settle together on my couch with something playing on the TV?” Pink filled his cheeks because he knew that sounded a lot like he was inviting Bill over to get laid. And he sort of was. If one thing led to another, then who was he to deny the flow of the date?

Bill sprung up and had his seat back to normal in no time, his hand on the gearshift. “I’m about to be the carefullest- No wait, the most careful? Whatever, we’re about to be so fucking safe but fast, so buckle up.”

“I never unbuckled, so I’m ready,” Dipper snorted, adjusting his seat so that he could sit up. The car moved again, this time at a much better speed, and Dipper couldn’t help but smile over at his date. It was no trip to the grocery store, but he had a feeling he and Bill would have plenty of other outings that would more than make up for it.

#Billdip #bill cipher #dipper pines #drabbles #my writing #sorry it's taking me a while to get to these #life has been so insane lol #but I have been dying to get to the billdip fluff #so I'm glad I could finally put it out! <3

[black-bhabie-2000]

Aizawa x reader

Fuck

You huffed irritated and drunk. This was supposed to be a girl's night out but not. Your best friend couldn't separate from her darling Pro here boyfriend . So here you were getting drunk around a whole bunch of Pro hero's The last place you wanted to be. As a Hero support member and designer, you dealt with Hero's all day and today you just wanted a break.

So while your friend is under her boyfriend you've been at the bar with a scowl on your face drinking.

Your wasted and your mood...well it's shit. Your Bestie saw you at the bar and she comes to you "Babe what's wrong?" She asks. You look at her annoyed " I thought we were going to a club not hanging with heros some girls night this is" you replied in a bitchy tone. " Girl this is literally the safest place to get drunk and there are some cute heros here"

You looked at her , your irritation building now your pissed. You look at her and say quite loudly (unbeknownst to you)

" WHERE ARE THE HOES AT ? I DON'T WANNA FLIRT WITH HEROS WHO WANNA GO OUT ON A DATE AND ALL THAT TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT SHIT. I WANNA BE FUCKED HARD" you say . Your best friend shushed you. "Bitch everyone just heard you!" . "So I don't give a damn you replied fuck all this I'm going to the bad part of town . WHERE THE HOES ARE!." This Time you yelled in purpose and you grabbed your stuff and clumsily started heading for the door. "Where are you going. Your best friend yelled. You stop and look at her. Bitch do you see this outfit, my hair, my shoes. I'm too cute to be in here bored. This lingerie under this dress is itchy and I'm going to go put it to good use. Your friend laughed use to your shenanigans and was like well good luck and turned around to find her boyfriend. You returned to your treacherous journey to the door in your stupid stilettos. You finally made up the steps and you tripped. Luckily a dark haired hero stopped you from toppling over. You adjusted yourself and looked at him. "Thanks you slurred. You were going to keep going but he had a firm grip on you and hadn't let go yet. You looked at him...what do you want? He chuckled"I heard your little argument with your friend and wanted to know if you wanted to put your lingerie to good use. You looked him up and down and damn he was fine , just your type. "What's your name you asked . He smiled and asked why? "Well I need to know who's name I'll be moaning?" You said annoyed. He chuckled again and his lips turned to a smirk " It's Aizawa Shota and you".. It's Y/N you responded.

This is a rough draft I'm tipsy I might redo it and add the sut but idk I might forget to if anyone uses this concept tag me.

#aizawa #aizawa x poc!reader #rough draft #aizawa smut

[deadboyfriendd]

Tear You Apart | E.M. 

There was always a push and pull between you two and, to you, it was so fucking frusturating. But you couldn’t help it that he looked so goddamn good like that, on the soapbox stage, in those stupid fucking jeans in this god-awful lighting. It made you physically angry. So angry that you could reach out and choke him, though you couldn’t decide in which context. 

In the same respect, he shredded his anger across strings and frets, hoping to whatever celestial being willed him into this world would at least have the common courtesy to soften his cock ever so slightly. But he couldn’t help it that you looked so fucking good like that, legs twisted around the chrome barstool like a fucking serpent, lips puffed out pouty in that stupid fucking lipgloss in this god-awful lighting. It made him physically angry. So angry that he could pick you up and break you in half, though he couldn’t decide in which context. 

Before the set, he thought tonight could have been the night. He always wanted to up the ante on his little perverse shenanigans. He always wanted to be out-right with it, saying how bad he wanted to fuck you, but settled for glances and stolen, not-completely-accidental touches. But tonight was different, the stars or whatever, he passed it off as. Tonight it felt primal. Maybe it had something to do with the way you leaned up on your toes ever so slightly to whisper a good luck in his ear from the side of the stage, taking a step back before he could muster the courage to be spontaneous and kiss you. It must have been the way you batted your eyelashes at him and giggled at one of his jokes, making it ring and linger in his phonetic loop like a pressurized ear canal. Maybe it was the way you dragged your palms over the ridges of his shoulders and down his chest as you drew away from a hug. He knew you did that shit on purpose. You must have. You must have thought it was so hilarious how he now had to go on stage rock hard. 

You stared up at him during the last few songs on the setlist with a smile, but running through the pink canyons of your brain matter, you were seething. He must have thought it was so cute to brush behind you like that, grabbing your wait as he walked by, sending ice running up and down your vertebra and freezing your cerebrospinal fluid into ice cubes. Maybe it was the intense eye contact he made with you when you laughed with the bartender, like he was trying to stake his claim on you with a simple gaze. Or maybe it was the way his hands dragged up and down on your hips, drawing out your hugs just a few seconds longer, but also drawing you into the dip of his stomach that rested in the valley that his hip bones created. 

He purposefully took his time getting off the stage, stopping and talking to bandmates and bar patrons for a long while before he looked at you in that same possessive way. This time it held a certain hunger, something carnal. You slapped your hand down on the pack of cigarettes and lighter that he left with you, sliding them across the table and off the edge. You slipped out of the bar doors in the same manner- like the hand of God himself was smashing you like a bug against a table and dragging you out over the edge. The pressure both in your stomach and in your heart were heavy, your own carnal urges begging you to just say fuck it, and begged you to just scream fuck me. But your brain always reminded you that there were repercussions to these things. 

You almost didn’t hear the large doors swing open behind you. If you didn’t hear the disturbance in the air, you probably would have screamed when his hand grabbed you hip, dragging sinfully slow and- holy shit- painfully low on your stomach. His fingers dug into your skin over the thin fabric covering you, but you couldn’t concentrate with his denim-covered cock digging into your back like that. He held you tight against him. So tight you could feel his stomach rise and fall, still breathless from his performance. You closed your eyes slightly, feeling his hot breath fill the molding of your ear and dissipate against your neck. You breathed ever so shallowly, not wanting him to know just how turned on you were. He drew his other hand down your shoulder, feeling your soft skin and playing with the tips of your fingers for a long, painful second. He then drew the same hand back over your stomach, leaving it to rest on your sternum, where you both could feel your aorta threatening to explode into a wet mass of pericardial fluid and muscle tissue. 

There was always a push and pull between you two and it was so fucking frusturating. But you couldn’t help it that he sounded so goddamn good when he whispered, 

“I want to fucking tear you apart.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things 4 #Spotify #flea writes

[freeuselandonorris]

a story that i think will make you laugh: months ago i mentioned to my friends that i was trying to eat my meals slower because the current speed at which im eating is giving me indigestion. i joked that i need one of those slow feeders that they give dogs. everybody laughed and i completely forgot about it.

it was my birthday last week and surprise surprise my friends got me a dog bowl as a joke. i unwrapped the thing and immediately thought “this better not awaken anything in me” followed shortly by “damn this is the premise of a horny lando fic by tumblr user freeuselandonorris”

anyway. i believe that this is some level of shenanigans that would get lando into puppy play. if you had any thoughts would absolutely love to hear them. if not, hope you enjoyed this story haha

skldakla i can't decide what i love more about this: the fact that your friends actually bought you the dog bowl, the fact that you THOUGHT OF ME, or the fact that you are SO right this is absolutely the kind of thing that would awaken something horrendous in lando.

i'm going through an alex phase at the moment and based on past behaviour (the breast pump) he'd definitely think it was funny, but also this is completely the kind of thiing i can see max f buying for him and then forcing him to do some sort of stupid bit for quadrant about it while lando desperately tries to hide the fact that he's half-hard about it.

(side note: i had a conversation last night about how the phrase "i'm not into puppy play" always seems to have a "but..." attached, and this is absolutely my "i'm not into puppy play but..." moment lmao)

tysm this made me laugh AND it's horny, the ultimate combo 🫡

#answered

[red-dead-do-over246]

if your requests are still open, may i request some fluff sean/ fem!reader?

something cute like, some confession type? them doing shenanigans and out of the thrill sean confesses? 🥺❤️

Sure! Love me that Irish man💖

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let’s Ride till the Sun Goes Down

A horse race leads to a confession from Sean.

It was a beautiful and peaceful day. There were hardly any clouds in the sky after the rainfall from last night, which caused everything to have a bit of a glow about it. The warmth also brought the singing of the birds and wildlife out to graze. So, it was a very peaceful day indeed.

“Watch it shitheads!” 

Unless you were a farmer.

In which case two riders on horseback just trampled through your fields.

“Keep up, Y/N!” An Irish voice came from the first rider astride a beautiful American Standardbred with a buckskin coat. You, on your own horse, beautiful as well, tried to keep up.

“Slow down!” You called with a playful grin.

“Not a chance! This is a race, ya silly girl!” Sean called back before looking forward to guide Ennis over a fence. You weren’t far behind on H/N, nearly knocking a ranch hand over, who cussed at you in response.

So, how did you guys end up racing through some poor man’s property?

The two of you (much against Arthur’s will) just got done with robbing a small cottage far from camp. You were one of the few women who could be trusted to do something like that, other than be a distraction. Things went well, only one casualty, and a good stack of money and supplies. There was a good feeling in your heart, and you were expecting a peaceful ride back to camp.

However, you forgot you were riding with Sean Macguire. Nothing was ever calm and peaceful.

“Hey Y/N, let’s race back ta camp.” He said with that playful spark in his eye, his youthfulness glowing all around him. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to, but you also didn’t want to get into any trouble.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” You asked him, and he made a pleading face.

“Please? Let’s have a bit of fun while the old guard ain’t around!” Sean whined, and you eventually gave in. It was hard not to give into Sean, with you especially. You found him rather adorable.

However, you had every right to worry as this race soon led to property damage.

That said, you were having too much fun to worry. I mean, there was this handsome yet adorable Irish man that you had to catch. Plus, if you let him win, he would never let you live it down.

The finish line was said to be right before you enter the tree line that led to camp at Clemen’s Point.

Which wasn’t very fair.

“Sean! Is this any way to treat a lady?” You called up to him with a bit of a smirk, spurring your horse forward. You heard him laugh, and that was his only response as he encouraged Ennis to move faster.

Eventually, you reached your destination with Sean in the lead.

“Talk about being a speed demon! Wasn’t I something, Miss Y/N?” He said while flourishing Ennis, the horse still dancy on his feet. You stopped your own horse, who was much calmer, before grinning at him.

“You certainly were. Perhaps you could teach me a thing or two.” You told him with a bright smile, making the poor ginger all flustered. It was very unlike Sean to get so, but you loved to see it.

Ennis, apparently, did not.

Sean pushed his horse to his limits, and now it was payback time. Rearing up on his hindlegs, Ennis caught his rider off guard. Sean was too busy thinking about what to say to you to notice and did a lovely tumble onto the ground. Granted, it was better than if he fell while the horse was going full speed, but you still winced.

“You alright?” You asked while quickly dismounting and walking over to him. He groaned slightly while placing a hand to the back of his head. You placed a hand on his shoulder while you crouched beside him.

“Damn horse...” He muttered while feeling where there would definitely be a bump.

“Shouldn’t have pushed him so. That was him telling you that you should’ve let me win.” You said with a slight grin, knowing he wasn’t in so much pain. 

“That’s why I love ya Y/N. So fun to be around and caring as well.” Sean said with that grin of his. You thought he was just playing around, but you were surprised to hear how serious he sounded.

“Y-You must’ve hit your head harder than you thought.” You said with a stutter, a blush coming to your cheeks. Slowly, you helped him to his feet. You thought he was about to agree before he grabbed your hands. The warmth made you even more flustered.

“I-I know a joke around a lot, but I seriously love ya Y/N. Please...believe me.” He practically pleaded with you. You continued to stare at him, the smallest of smiles on your face.

“That’s why you only asked me to come on your little raid?” You asked in a shy manner. Sean merely nodded, loosening the grip on your hands in case you did want to leave. 

However, instead, you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you began to walk away.

“H-Hey! What was that?” Sean felt like an idiot asking that, but it was so unexpected of you. You casually looked over your shoulder.

“You won the race, right. You deserved a prize.” You said with a blush, smiling slightly. Then you grabbed your horse and began to walk back into camp.

Sean just stood there, slowly bringing his hand to the cheek that you kissed before grinning stupidly.

Lenny, who was on guard duty, was wondering if you broke Sean. The poor man hasn’t moved for hours.

You really put a spell on him.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 #sean macguire #sean x reader #sean macguire x reader #rdr2 sean macguire #sean imagine