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captainfern · 9 months

Note

Reader and ghost fake dating for a mission with a twist.It’s a masquerade ball so Ghost wears a fancy little mask instead of his usual skull. Reader gets worked up seeing him in a tux with his hair and part of his face out so they ditch their mics and abandon the mission to go fuck in a bathroom. Just a thought… 🤭🤭

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Master of Puppets

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

[“Master of Puppets” by Metallica]

[18+]

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• summary - you and ghost getting all dressed up for a ball ends in you and ghost fucking in the bathroom lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.6k • warnings - fem!reader, unprotected piv, semi-public sex, handjobs idk, ghost is a little possessive of his sergeant, strong language

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ok you requested this while my requests were closed and usually i just delete them BUT you're lucky i'm horny for this idea

i'm imagining him in a peaky blinders style three-piece suit and i'm going insane why do i do this to myself

You weren't a stranger to the "fake dating" type of mission. You had done it with Gaz just a few months prior to infiltrate enemy operations at a charity event in Dubai.

So, when that exact type of mission came around again, you were prepared for what it would take.

"Playing boyfriend-girlfriend again, Garrick?" You quipped at Gaz a few minutes before Price's usual briefing.

He smiled, but shook his head. "Not me, sarge."

You made a face of confusion, before Gaz threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing directly at Ghost. Ghost raised his head from the files he had been reading.

"Seriously?" You gaped, surprised.

Ghost shook his head slowly, muttering out a sarcastic comment, "Dial down the excitement, sergeant."

Now, you stood in the bathroom of your hotel room, smoothing your hands down the fabric of your dress, admiring yourself. It was an absolutely stunning dress that clung to you in all the right ways. Designer label, too, leaving you wondering how the hell Price got his hands on it. Probably Laswell.

There was a light knock on your door before it opened, and you walked into the bedroom so you could slip your heels on. Soap and Price entered, dressed impeccably in suits. You stood at the foot of the bed as they walked in, and you admired them with a big smile.

"You two look very handsome." You said.

"Thank you," Price said, adjusting his tie. "You look absolutely radiant, sarge."

You laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed so you could fasten your heels to your feet, as well as strap your handgun to the strap around your upper thigh.

Soap gaped at you, eyes raking down the entirety of your body while you exposed a leg, tightening the holster around it.

"You're smokin', lass," he said, shock edging his words. "Ghost won't be able to focus."

You rolled your eyes, sliding your gun into place before standing up, settling your dress over top of it, trying your best to make the imprint not obvious.

The three of you left the hotel ten minutes later. A black SUV with tinted windows waited outside, and Soap opened the door for you. Price grabbed hold of your arm before you slid inside, leaning close to your ear.

"Remember, you and Ghost are there to get intel. You don't engage with any of the targets, understood? Soap and I will be nearby if you run into any trouble."

"Understood." You nodded, before clambering into the black SUV. Soap mouthed good luck to you before he turned away, just as Ghost walked slowly down the steps, Gaz a few metres behind.

Your eyes widened. He looked fucking good.

A black three piece suit, complete with the waistcoat and everything. He wasn't wearing gloves, exposing large, strong hands with prominent veins and silver rings around his fingers. What shocked you the most, however, was the silver mask covering most of the top half of his face. It shined in the light of the hotel entrance. As he neared the car, you could see his lips, his jawline, his chin, scars littering the flesh.

You pressed your thighs together.

Price said something to Ghost, and then Soap did as well. Finally, Ghost looked into the car where you waited patiently, and you watched as his lips parted in what could be best described as a small gasp.

"Sergeant..." He trailed off, taking in your dress, your face, your body, you.

"Lieutenant," you nodded at him. "You look nice. Very dapper."

He grunted deeply, sliding into the seat next to you. His body radiated heat that you could feel. He smelt good, too. You bit your lip as his strong thigh pressed against yours.

With a final few good lucks from the boys, the car was pulling away from the hotel and heading for the venue. You and Ghost didn't exchange much conversation, but as you looked out the window, you felt the heat of his gaze on you. You turned your head, catching his bright eyes following the curves of your dress.

You ignored the flip in your stomach at the weight of desire in his eyes. "Like what you see?" You joked, and his eyes snapped up to look at you.

He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you, before he fished something out of his jacket pocket. He held it out to you, still not quite meeting your eyes. It was a silver mask, much like his, but a bit smaller, with finer details carved around the edges. It was really pretty.

"It's a masquerade ball, so I figured you'd need this." Ghost grumbled, retracting his hands straight away as you took the mask from him.

"Matching?" You smiled.

"I figured... I mean— it was Soap's idea, so if you don't want... you don't, you know—"

"I love it, sir, I do," you said softly, and he sighed deeply through his nose. You then angled your body away from him, pressing the mask to your face with the ribbons dangling either side. "Do you mind tying it for me?"

Ghost said nothing, but took hold of the two ribbons and brought them to the back of your head. He carefully tied a bow, keeping your mask secure against your face. You could feel the soft rhythm of his breathing against your back, and the warmth of his bare hands near the base of your neck.

"Done?" You asked, looking at yourself in the windows reflection.

Ghost swallowed thickly, ignoring something stirring deep within the pit of his stomach. "Yeah."

•º•

You felt somewhat confident walking into the event with Ghost on your arm. All eyes turned towards the handsomely dressed man, clearly well-built beneath the suit and obviously attractive beneath the silver mask. He captured this attention like a natural, which you couldn't come to grips with. He was so calm, collected. You felt as though you were going to burst into tears at any moment.

But you didn't. You wouldn't. Not with the way Ghost circled an arm around your lower back, a hand pressed hot above your arse. Not with the way he kept you pressed to your side, his towering frame shielding you from at least one line of prying eyes.

But, you felt eyes on you too. Eyes on the pretty girl next to the man with the silver mask. They admired you from close and afar, watching the way your dress dipped around your body, and the way your silver mask glittered under the light of the crystal chandeliers.

"Alright, sarge?" Ghost whispered, thumb rubbing circles on your lower back.

"Yep," you squeaked out, the movement of his hand making your body grow hot. "You good?"

"Mhm." He hummed, already surveying the room.

—Okay, you two. Try and get as much information out of these rich-listers as you can—, Price's voice filtered in through your earpiece. —I would say don't draw attention to yourselves, but it seems it's a bit late for that. You're probably the youngest, most attractive pair in that room tonight—.

"Aw, cap, you flatter us." You joked, snagging two flutes of champagne from the tray of a passing waitress.

—Just don't get distracted—. Price grumbled, before his voice was gone from your ear.

You held a glass of champagne out for Ghost, who just stared at it. You were already raising yours to your lips, drinking the bubbling liquid in small sips. Finally, he took it from you, but didn't drink.

"Shouldn't be drinking on the job." He said gruffly as you finished your drink, placing the empty glass on a nearby table.

"Says who?" You question, taking the second flute from him since he obviously wasn't going to drink it.

"Says me."

"Pfft, you're not the boss of me." You quipped, downing the second glass of champagne. It was mostly to steel your nerves— which were on fire with anxiety.

He rolled his eyes. "I am the boss of you."

"Oh yeah."

•º•

An hour or so went by and you found yourself sat at the bar. It was a pretty place, decked out in gold and glittering crystal lights. You'd spent the past hour gathering as much information about your rich-list targets as you could, with said information being filtered back through your ear-piece, directly back to Gaz in the hotel room.

Ghost had vanished to investigate further, leaving you alone at the bar, a small glass of water in your hand. You'd thrown back a few flutes of champagne and you realised that water was probably your best bet for the rest of the night.

"What's a pretty lady like you sitting here without company?" Came a voice behind you, and you rolled your eyes.

What a cringe line. Embarrassing.

You plastered a polite smile across your face as a man took the barstool beside you, a simple black mask over his features.

"My company's just gone outside for a smoke." You lied naturally, smile not breaking.

"And he's left you all alone?"

"Mhm, but I'm perfectly fine being by myself," you said. "But it was nice to meet you." You finished with the hopes that he'd take the fucking hint and leave.

He didn't take the hint.

"Well, at least let me by you a drink." He offered.

You shook your head. "I'm fine, thank you."

He took that surprisingly well, but his stare was lingering and uncomfortable as it travelled down the length of your body. You felt goosebumps ripple across your exposed flesh, a grimace threatening to overtake your practised smile.

"You look stunning, by the way," he said. "Absolutely beautiful. Are you sure I can't buy you a drink?"

You sighed. "The drinks are free and, no thank you."

"Are you sure—?"

You felt Ghost's presence before he even spoke.

You felt the looming warmth press to your back, the tower of mass that overshadowed your frame. You couldn't help but lean back a bit, his chest and upper abdomen pressing firmly along your spine. Then, a built arm draped over your shoulders, wrapping just above your tits and pulling you closer against him.

"Can I help you?" Ghost asked, voice even, accent thick.

The man had to crane his head to look up at Ghost. "Just keeping the pretty lady company."

Ghost grunted. "I suggest you move on. Keep someone else company, why don't you."

The man swallowed nervously. "I didn't—"

"Go." Ghost ordered simply, and the man was scurrying away before you could even blink.

You looked up at Ghost, top of your head leaning against his chest. "Thanks." You muttered, waiting for him to let go of you.

He didn't. His hand and arm held you closer, his eyes dragging down your face and your body. His other hand came to rest on your jaw, his thumb trailing along the bone. Then it swiped upwards, along your cheek before pressing to your lips, smearing the shimmering gloss.

You were frozen.

"Ghost—?"

"You're the prettiest woman in this fucking room, you know that?" He muttered lowly, thumb skirting along the seam of your lips.

You didn't answer, just stared up at him. His rings were cold against the side of your face.

The moment was thick with tension, and heat pooled in your belly. You felt his chest rise and fall, a bit quicker than it did in the car ride to the event. His pupils were blown, too, between the slots in the mask, and he ran the point of his tongue across his bottom lip.

—Aww, how romantic—, Soap's voice burst in your ear, and both you and Ghost jolted.

"Fucking hell, Johnny," Ghost cursed, grip on your face tighter. "I'm turning this fucking mic off. I'm sick of hearing your voice."

Soap laughed. —You wouldn't dare—

Ghost switched his ear-piece off, before closing his fingers around yours too. He switched it off, and Soap's voice died in your ear.

You gasped. "Ghost—"

He hauled you off of the seat while you were mid-sentence, planting you on your feet with your chest now pressed to his.

"Follow me." He growled.

You could feel his cock hardening in his suit trousers.

•º•

Ghost locked the door of the bathroom behind you, before he was slamming you against it, hiking your legs around his waist. His mouth smashed to yours, and you gasped, barely having enough time to respond before his tongue was surging inwards.

The kiss choked you, full of emotion. Ghost's large frame towering over you, caging you to the door. One of his hands gripped your thigh, keeping your body pinned between his and the door. His other hand gripped the underside of your jaw, angling your face so he could press deeper into the kiss.

The material of the silver masks you were both wearing bumped together with each desperate movement of your mouths. You were able to respond now; winding your arms around his shoulders, delving one hand into his hair, pulling his face closer to yours. Ghost groaned into the kiss as you tugged at the roots of his hair, and he pulled away to look down at you.

"Such a tease," he muttered, before dragging his lips across your jaw and down your neck. "Wearing this pretty dress, too."

His lips found the strap on your shoulder, teeth skimming the material before he was kissing along your collarbone. You angled your face upwards so he could suck along the soft expanse of your throat. He still gripped your jaw firmly as he did so, and he moved your head himself when he wanted to nip at the sensitive skin below your ear.

"Fucking stunning," he said, breathless, before he was stepping back to get a better look at you. You squirmed under his gaze, drawing your thighs together as your core gained a heartbeat. You whined, and he chuckled lowly, dropping your leg off of his waist. "So pretty."

"Simon..." You pleaded, his real name slipping past your lips before you could stop yourself. Your body was simmering hot with arousal, your core aching just by the way Ghost was looking at you.

Not to mention how fucking good he looked in that suit.

Clearly, you were having much the same effect on him.

He huffed deeply, unbuttoning his trousers, his hard cock imprinted through the material. You swallowed as you watched his trousers drop slightly as he pulled his cock out of his boxers, eyes raking up and down your body. And you weren't even showing anything yet.

"Acting like a Victorian man," you couldn't help but joke. "Seeing a sliver of shoulder and a bit of ankle's got you worked up?"

You laughed lightly, seeing Ghost roll his eyes behind the mask. He grunted, the closest thing to a verbal reply, as he gripped his cock and moved closer to you. Your breath hitched as he closed the gap, kissing you hard.

His cock pressed to your abdomen, warm and hard through the expensive material of your dress. You whined softly against Ghost's tongue, moving a hand to enclose around his length also.

Ghost choked on a low moan, pulling out of the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. The both of you staying like that, eyes directed down between your bodies as you gripped his cock, hand right beside his own.

You used the beads of pre-cum pearling at his slit to ease your movements, fisting a hand up and down, making Ghost grumble deep in his chest. Foreheads still pressed together, you both watched as you jerked him off. His hand remained tight at the base, unmoving despite your best efforts to encourage him.

The bathroom was filled with his soft noises; noises that ignited the fire in your belly further, your core throbbing, soaking your underwear. You hummed softly at him, some kind of a whine, as you pumped him faster, feeling him twitch in your hand.

He groaned and grunted softly, his breaths deep and laboured. His cock twitched with each of your movements, drops of pre rolling in a steady pattern along a vein. You collected them in the grooves of your palm, your movements sliding, sending soft, wet clicking sounds into the bathroom as well.

It felt like Ghost was entranced with the way he was looking at your hand moving along his cock. So when he felt his orgasm creeping up the back of his spine, he internally cursed.

He grabbed your wrist and pried your hand from his cock with a hiss, screwing his eyes closed as the feeling of release seeping away. He'd just edged himself, and he didn't even fucking mean too.

"Fuck, gotta be inside you," he muttered, kissing your forehead as he changed positions. "Not gonna last like this."

He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around him. You helped him wriggle the material of your dress around your waist, and he hummed in satisfaction. You braced one hand around his broad shoulders, the other on the door at your side for stability.

"Fucking hell..." Ghost ran a finger up your slit over your underwear. The material was damp with your arousal, and the feeling of his finger made you squirm in his hold.

"Simon, please—"

"Absolutely soaked..." He wasn't really listening to you. He was too busy playing with the material of your underwear, rubbing up your folds and feeling the way your arousal soaked through.

You quickly moved your hand from the door and fisted a handful of his hair, urging his head to look up. He grunted, gritting his teeth as he finally looked you dead in the eye while you tugged at his hair.

"Simon." You said, commanding as much of his attention as you could.

He licked his lips. "Hm?"

"Fuck me."

"Christ," he whispered, the hand stroking you through your underwear hooking beneath the material. He simply pulled it to the side, exposing your wet cunt. His pupils dilated. "Fucking Christ."

"Don't bring Christ into this." You joked again, and Ghost grunted deeply in response, giving you no warning before he was easing his cock into you.

You spluttered around a moan as his cock filled you abruptly, your hands moving to grip Ghost's shoulders tightly. Your head fell forward, resting against his chest, and you moaned loudly.

His cock nudged that spot inside you that had your cunt fluttering around him, making him groan. He grit his teeth to restrict most of the noises, but he couldn't help himself. Not with the way your cunt was squeezing his cock, all wet and warm and tight.

"Come on, sergeant, come on," Ghost whispered, moving his hips back and slamming into you again. He began to build pace and rhythm with each one of his thrusts. "Let me hear those pretty noises. Come on."

You moaned again, high and breathy as the head of his cock punched the air out of your fucking lungs. He fucked you against the door, the wet sounds of your arousal spurring his movements further.

"Simon, gotta be quiet. Someone m-might hear— ah, fuck—" You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle the moans being torn from your throat by the way Ghost was fucking you.

"Let them hear," he whispered in your ear. "Let them hear how good I make you feel, eh? Let them hear how good you are at taking my cock."

Your head fell backwards against the wooden door, eyes rolling as a string of whimpers were pulled from your lips. Ghost rutted into you, grunting softly as he did, listening to the sounds from your mouth and your cunt. He held your hips, keeping you pinned to the door and unable to move so he could slam deeper and deeper inside you.

You arousal was pooling around his cock with each thrust, now dripping down the insides of your thighs. You could faintly feel your underwear in the crease of your thigh, pushed haphazardly out of the way to make room for Ghost. But you didn't care— you were too focused on the huge fucking cock that was inside you right now.

You couldn't help the whines and soft moans that left your mouth. Your body was burning up, stomach drawing tight as your impending orgasm grew more intense with each rut of Ghost's cock.

"Simon..." You moaned, and Ghost had to compose himself so he didn't come right then and there. You sounded so good, so fucking pretty moaning his name like that.

"Yeah, baby? Feel's good?" He murmured against your skin as he kissed along your jaw. "You wanna come?"

You nodded, fingernails scratching down his shoulders. You whimpered desperately, legs quivering in his hold.

"Let go, pretty girl. Come 'round my cock... that's it."

You came with a loud moan of his name, and he slammed his mouth to yours to swallow it whole. Your cunt spasmed around his cock as he fucked you roughly through your orgasm, heat blooming across your skin. He pulled his face away from yours, lips brushing as he panted, chasing his own high.

"F-fuck," he whispered, releasing inside you, followed by a carnal groan into the curve of your neck. He filled you, hot and thick, and the sensations of it flooding your womb made you close your eyes. He didn't pull out for a while. He just held you to the door, breathing deeply. "Alright, sergeant?"

"Yeah... fine..." You breathed. "We should, um, probably get back to the mission."

"Give me a minute." He groaned, still deep inside you, making you laugh.

•º•

When you did finally leave the bathroom, you made yourself look as presentable as you could before you left a couple of minutes after Ghost. You shoved your ear-piece back into your ear and turned it on. Immediately, you were greeted by Soap's voice.

—Good bathroom break, sarge?—

"Shut up, Soap."

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lazy writing sorry i'm tired lol

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #fem reader #ghost call of duty #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x f!reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #call of duty smut #captain'smetallica

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planetpiastri · 22 days

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pairing: logan sargeant x fem!reader [no faceclaim, reader is faceless] summary: when alex's childhood friend makes an appearance on his instagram, logan is instantly smitten, but the universe insists on keeping them only as a missed connection, and alex isn't helping matters. notes: the long awaited part three! i'm currently giving all my fics a facelift, but the guilt about this update has been eating away at me, so here you guys go<3 i've decided to stop living in denial and just admit this is a full series now so here comes the (brief) angst era! [series masterlist]

liked by lilymhe, georgerussell63, and 154,329 others

alex_albon winter break, you were fun 🫡 see you next year!

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username1 try not to say parents challenge level impossible (failed)

lilymhe he stole that car

alex_albon you promised you wouldn't tell anyone!!

username2 looking good albono! excited to see you scoring points soon!

williamsracing Nice hat! :D

username3 guys can i confess something.... i miss yn :(

username4 you guys say this under all of his posts. obviously something happened and they don't post each other anymore for a reason, respect their space and stop bringing this up.

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, and 71,823 others

williamsracing the boys are back and so are we 👀

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username5 RRRAAHHH I SMELL DOUBLE POINTS

username6 the new suits are AWESOME, the boys are gonna kill it this season!!!!!

alex_albon who approved that corny ass caption

logansargeant Me alex_albon i'm gonna steal your tires

username7 even if yn has vanished off the face of the earth at least we can thank her for bringing the williams boys closer together so that we get to see them goofing off in the comments 😔

username8 yeah but it's all for show like they don't hang out off track anymore... landonorris oh are we just saying things in the comments? i wanna join!! george sleeps with a teddy bear georgerussell63 Don't drag me into this wtf alex_albon it's true, he does

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 71,013 others

logansargeant Some bits and bobs from the break

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username9 what kind of whack british caption is that

username10 maybe the rumors about him and alex not hanging out were wrong, maybe they're hanging out TOO MUCH actually...

alex_albon i have taught you well, young padawan

username11 omg logan and oscar content we're soooo back

williamsracing Looking energized, Sarge!

username12 the fact that we never got a hard launch for logan and yn so we'll never know if they actually got together is my roman empire

username13 no fr!! they were flirting and bantering all over the place and then suddenly BOOM! she just disappears like wtf happenedddd username14 you guys talking abt a possible situationship not happening vs twenty years of friendship between alex and yn that's gone... have some priorities username15 hi just popping in to say you guys are weird af for speculating like this under his winter break dump 💀 move tf on

logansargeant

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logansargeant Quick trip back over the pond before locking in 👊 bring it on season ✌️

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username16 wait did we miss a step

alex_albon that does not look like sim work

logansargeant Are you my dad or something? Get a life alex_albon DAMN

username17 um? um?? the last picture??? um??????

georgerussell63 What

logansargeant Who? georgerussell63 ?? logansargeant Asked

username18 please be a soft launch with that girl from the afterparty please please please please please

oscarpiastri Interesting.

username19 OSCAR WHAT DO YOU KNOW

williamsracing

liked by ynusername, logansargeant, and 78,321 others

williamsracing Good times in Bahrain! See you next year, Sakhir 😉

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username20 WHAT was that strategy guys

alex_albon "good times" literally where that was nothing but pain

williamsracing ☹️👉👈 we're sowwy awex alex_albon ew wtf don't say that to me

username21 guys? yn liked? she's alive?

username22 JUSTICE FOR LOGAN'S STEERING WHEEL

tagging: @sticksdoesart @hiireadstuff @minkyungseokie @thatoneembarrasingmoment @croissantbakerylws @dear-fifi @imjustme-n @kn1n3 @captainfrisbee @ssrcsm @rhythmstars @urfavnoirette

if you want to be tagged in future parts, fill out this form

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant au #f1 #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 x reader #instagram au #f1 imagine #social media au #alex albon #saturn writes

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specialagentlokitty · 9 months

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Buck x reader - just a minute

Hi! I stumbled across your blog and I absolutely love the way you portray you buck and was wondering if you would consider writing a fic with him. No pressure. Maybe reader is a police officer and buck and reader are on a scene together and spend a few minutes together? Just like a quick hug and kiss? - @manyfandomsfanvergent 💜

You were one of the first people on the scene, and you walked over to Athena.

“We need to separate these two, stick her in your cruiser.”

“Yes Sarg.”

You took the woman from her and you walked over to your car and you sat her in the back and walked back over to where Athena was tending to a man.

She stepped away and looked at you.

“One hell of an argument.” You said.

“That’s not even his wife, his wife’s sat in the back of my car.”

You looked to your car in confusion then back to Athena.

“Then who the hell is that?”

“His girlfriend, her and the wife found out about one another, teamed up against him.”

You whistled a little bit and looked at the man and turned back to Athena.

“Wouldn’t wanna be him right now.”

Athena chuckled a little bit, and she gestured to the fire engine that was just pulling up.

“And I wouldn’t want to be you right now.” She laughed.

Before you could even turn around, you felt an arm around your shoulder and someone kiss your temple and you smiled a little bit.

“Hello officer.” He greeted.

“Firefighter Buckley, you have work to be doing.”

He grinned down at you and moved away to start working on the two cars that were crashed into another.

While they were working you began taking statements and gathering all the evidence that you needed.

Heading back to your car, you opened the driver side door and leant inside.

“I don’t regret it.” The woman huffed.

“I bet you don’t.”

With that, you closed door and you turned around.

Seeing your boyfriend between the ambulance and fire truck putting something away, you wondered over and leant on the truck with a smirk.

“Hello Evan.”

He turned around and grinned from ear to ear and opened his arms.

“Hello darling.”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him, and he picked you up, twirling you around a few times before he set you down.

He placed a hand on the side of your face and he leant down, softly kissing you.

You smiled and kissed him back before you pulled away.

“You should be working.” You scolded lightly.

“I am working.” He beamed.

Laughing a little bit, you rested your head on his chest.

“I finish in a few hours, I’ll come by, bring you some of your favourite takeaway, how’s that?” You asked.

“You are a god send.”

You grinned and jumped up, kissing him again before you began to walk backwards.

“See you later Buckley.”

“See you around (L/N).”

Grinning at him, you made your way back over to your car and leant against it as you began to read through your notes.

And you were fully aware of everywhere Buck went, he would watched you as he passed by

#911 fox #911 fox imagine #911 x reader #911 fox x reader #911 fandom #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 fox x you #Buck #Buck x reader #Buck x you #Buck imagine #Evan Buckley #evan buckley x you #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x reader #Evan Buckley imagine

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thestarrynightslover · 8 months

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Whatever Comes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,147

Warnings: A lot of angst. Mentions of blood, life-threatening injuries, hit-and-run, fracture wounds, and miscarriage.

Summary: Doctor (y/n) (y/l/n) and Jay Halstead are secretly dating when there is a terrible accident involving (y/n) and a lot comes to light.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Okay, so this is my first fic in a long while and I don't think it's all that good but I had to restart somewhere, so I hope you like it anyway!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

You had just gotten out of your car across the street from the side of Med and, as you were making your way through the bit of road that led to the hospital, a car comes into the driveway — screeching tires, in full speed — and runs you over long before you could even see anything and, there, in the matter of a few seconds, everything goes black and you’re left bleeding out in the street.

Almost an hour later, after you had regained consciousness and had begun dragging yourself, very slowly, towards the hospital, Will and Ethan, about to go inside Med, spot you and run your way eager to help you out — even if they hadn’t known it was you at first.

“Oh man, it’s Dr. (y/n) (y/l/n)!” Ethan exclaimed.

“(y/n), can you hear me?!?” You sort of heard Will ask through your dizziness haze.

“Wow, you’re actually shorter this up close than I had imagined at first.” You attempted a joke with your friend, momentarily gaining some clarity.

Ignoring you, Will just asked no one specifically, “oh Lord, how long has she been bleeding out here?”

Decisive as always, you heard as Dr. Choi commanded, “I don’t know but, come on, Will, let’s carry her to the ED!”

As soon as your friends get inside the hospital with you, everybody stays in shock for a moment until Maggie yells: "get her in treatment 4, now!"

Following her lead, Will and Ethan get started on treating you, who has a few broken ribs, and free fluid in your belly besides from a punctured spleen. Having done their best in the ED, they decide to send your upstairs for surgery with Crocket.

Once you're going to surgery, Miss Goodwin tells Maggie and the doctors to call PD and specifically ask for Intelligence, since you were friends with the unit. As the cops get there, one stands out: Jay Halstead. He's frantic, devastated-looking, just completely lost, and desperate to hear more news about your condition. No one really understands why he is reacting like that, but all of them do share the fear of losing a great friend. Voight's giving out assignments to the team, so Jay knows that that's when he needs to speak up.

"Um, sarge?" All eyes are on him. "If you and the team don't mind running one man short today... I was hoping that I could, um, stay here with- with her?" Hank just stares at him, unlike everyone else — who are shocked — the older man's focus is on his detective's eyes, on the way he was so distraught from the moment they got the call about (y/l/n). That was the behavior, the look, of a terrified man. And, as everyone there knew, Jay Halstead — the freaking war vet — wasn't one to get scared easily. "(y/n) and I-"

"It's fine. No need to explain. You should stay here, Jay. Let us know, in case anything changes. And we'll catch the son of a bitch." He said firmly, making Jay feel as appreciative as ever, and, also, sending an implicit message to all the other members of the unit, one that said: we work this with all we got right now, for (y/n), and for Jay, no questions asked.

After the officers left the hospital, there was still a big commotion from everyone who stayed, because it was one of their own up there in the or. But, surpassing everyone else's, was Will's surprise by how distraught Jay looked, especially considering how his little brother wanted to stay at the hospital, instead of going to find who hurt you. So he comes to confront the detective about it. "So... You and (y/n) are a thing?" Will asked, trying to understand. Since Jay just nodded his head, he decided to push a little further: "And... Were you ever planning to tell me? What the hell, man?"

"Will, I-"

"She's one of my best friends, Jay! Not to mention the fact that I'm the doctor who oversees her work here!"

"Will you put it down?" Jay pleaded with his brother, motioning him to a more reserved corner of the waiting room. "I know, okay? I know. And I'm sorry if it upsets you, man, I really am. But this could've blown her career. That's why we hadn't told you yet." It was clear that Will didn't exactly like his brother's explanation, but he knew it was true.

"Just... How long?"

"Um, about six months?"

"Six months?!" The doctor yelled in shock, then repeated it in a lower tone. "But, six months?"

"Yeah, I know it's a lot of time keeping you in the dark, Will. But, trust me, we weren't thrilled about it. And we were hoping to tell you soon. I swear." Jay said, and his brother could, once again, see it was the truth.

"So, that means that when you started seeing each other she was still finishing med school?"

"Yeah, that's right. Which was, like, the main reason for us to keep it under wraps. An intern dating the attending doctor's little brother? Wouldn't look good."

"That's true..." At that point, Will took another look at his brother. Jay looked so worried and scared, even while trying to hide it. "So, uh, you guys are serious?" That question got a little smile out of the detective.

"Yes, we are. I know that it is new for you... But, I love her, Will. I really do." He took a moment to breathe, not being able to hold back some tears this time. “And, I can’t lose her. I just can’t.”

“Jay…” Will started saying but didn’t quite know how to continue. What could he possibly say to comfort his brother right now? “We just… We just gotta stay hopeful, okay? (y/n) is a really tough person and Dr. Marcel is a great surgeon, you know it. She is gonna pull through.”

A lot of disquieting hours later Crocket finally comes out of the surgery, just to be met by a very worried hospital staff and an on-edge Jay Halstead.

"Where is sh- How is she? Is (y/n) okay? Can I see her?" The detective hovers, not even taking a breath.

"Wow! Uh, you gotta calm down a little, buddy."

"Don't give me that crap! Just- just tell me how she is!" Jay shouts again, not giving a damn about what anyone was thinking. You were the only thing on his mind right now.

"Alright. But try to keep breathing, okay?" To that, the other man didn't even bother to answer. "Okay, um, it was a very complicated surgery, I had to do a lot of cleaning and moving around to get to the worst parts and-"

"Can you please just cut to the part where you tell me if she's okay? No offense, but you can fill me in on the details later." Jay stated nervously. It wasn't just that he wanted to know what was the result of all those hours in the or, but, also, because Jay knew he wouldn't understand half of what Connor was saying, even with the simplified language. You would. But not him.

"Right. Okay. She's, um, she's okay for now. We'll need to monitor her on an hourly basis, though." By that point, the surgeon could already see the relief on both Halsteads' faces, so he went on. "We controlled the bleeding, but, with all the blood loss," he stopped to take another look at the detective, "I'm afraid," another pause, because, sure he had delivered this kind of news before, but this time it was a lot harder, because those people were his friends. And, what they had just lost, he had just lost too, in a way, "we couldn't save the baby."

"The baby?" This time he got an answer from both brothers.

"Uh, uh... You, uh, you didn't know she was pregnant?" Crocket asked, kind of already guessing the answer while sharing a look with Will.

"Oh my God..." It was all the youngest Halstead managed to let out. Seeing how his brother was unable to react any further, Will decided to step up and ask the tough questions.

"So, um, if everything goes well from now on, you think that (y/n/n) will make a full recovery?"

"Ahhh, yes, actually. She was in great health, so, after making it through, uh, through the night, she shouldn't have any major issues." At that point, Marcel himself was trying to be as objective and as doctorish as possible, in order not to make things worse for the man who had just heard that he lost a child he didn't even have a chance to wait for.

"So, is it, um- is it possible that she didn't know about the pregnancy yet?" But, damn it, Will just kept asking all the impossible questions.

"Uh... It is, actually. Very possible." Hearing that, the detective immediately glued his eyes on him. "We estimate that the fetus was about seven weeks. It's very common that women on birth control haven't found out about it at that point." As neither Halstead said anything, Marcel continued, "well, she's up in the ICU now and in and out of consciousness but, if you want, you can see her for a few minutes."

Hearing that, the detective came out of his haze and said: "Yeah, I wanna see her!"

A few hours later, as Will Halstead gathered his things after finishing his shift, he decided to go check on you but got surprised when he realized that his brother was still there, in the waiting room. "Jay, what are you still doing here?"

"I'm waiting," he said simply.

"Jay." Will called again, "you can't do this, you need to go home, get some sleep, eat…"

"I'm not leaving her alone."

"She's not gonna be alone, Jay." Not getting any response, Will decided to lead with something else. "You know, Voight called Goodwin and said that they're hitting a lot of walls in the (y/l/n) investigation…" Measuring his brother's reaction, Will continued: "Maybe they'd have better luck working with the whole team…"

"Yeah, you're probably right. Tomorrow I'll tell Voight that I want in on the investigation." Jay said, not making any sign of wanting to leave.

"Jay, you can't work tomorrow after staying here the whole night!" Seeing his little brother still not intending to leave, he threatened, "if you don't go home right now, I'll call Voight myself and tell him that you're in no shape to work-"

"Oh, c'mon! You're gonna do that!"

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," Will said, looking as serious as they get. "Look, Jay, you know she's in good hands here. And, whatever happens, you'll be the first to know, I've made sure of it."

"But-"

"But nothing, Jay! It's time to go, come on!" Will pressed so much that Jay resigned himself to do as his brother told him.

For almost a week, you stayed in the ICU. For almost a week, Jay Halstead passed by Med on his way to work and on his way home from work.

Once you were moved to a room, Jay started feeling like he could finally breathe again, even though there was now the baby that someone had still to tell you. And, after chatting with Will and Crockett, Jay had already decided he was gonna be the one to deliver the news to you. So, one day, after Intelligence had already caught the drug dealers that were running away when they hit you, Jay asked Voight for the afternoon off to take you home from the hospital.

When you were at your place, you asked Jay what was going on: "Hey, you didn't say a word on the way here, is anything besides the fact that I just spent almost two weeks in the hospital and that everyone found out about us wrong?"

"Let's sit down for a minute, babe."

The minute he said that, you knew there was something really wrong.

"Okay, you're scaring me…" You said while sitting down on the couch.

"I just- I have something important to tell you," and, like that, Jay proceeded to tell you the worst thing you ever heard. It's not like you'd been planning on becoming a mother or anything like that anytime soon but it was still a possibility that was brutally taken away… You and Jay cried together for the first time and, consoling each other, you felt your relationship growing stronger.

So much so that after some time you could start talking about the future that both of you foresaw with one another and, even though nothing was completely decided, there was one thing you knew for sure: as long as you were together, you could face anything.

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jd07201990 · 3 months

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I watched from the kitchen door, with a wide grin on my face, as my previously combative, nerdy Stepson watched his laptop, eyes glazed, for the umpteenth time these last 6 months. Nobody would ever remember tiny, snarky little Theodore. They’d only ever see Theo, this bulky, sweaty brute, lifting and fucking his way through college, just like any red-blooded young man should. And it was all thanks to my buddy Sarge’s “attitude adjusting” self help videos, he custom designs for a slew of shady clientele after he retired. Mostly foreign governments, some loony cults here and there. But for me, he’d done a personal favor. I filled out a details chart, every last trait, from his voice to his hair, posture, everything. I thought about everything he’d said about “those sweating, grunting behemoths” that all got into school with free-ride scholarships for athletics. Theo was going to helplessly, desperately, insatiably grow, eating and grunting his way to 215, the weight I’d maintained all through college. He’d also dress, walk, and talk like the testosterone (and a slew of supplements Sarge gave me with the videos) filled cocky young male you see frequenting college courtyards, throwing footballs between bros and chasing pretty sorority girls like lovesick puppies. Their dumb, dopey demeanor would seen pour from Theo’s mouth, his shoulders back, pecs out casually. He’d grope and adjust himself, sitting down with his legs wide no matter where he is. His diet would change, adding raw calories and protein, chuckling dumbly with the other gym rats as he gulps down creatine powder, dry, and chugs a shake to wash it down. The supplements Sarge gave me to add to his meals, ensured he’d bulk up fast, and solid. As long as I fed him enough, which I was warned would triple our groceries, at least, He’d gain the weight, and the thickness I was looking for, while his body would be thrust through a second puberty, allowing for the subliminals to work on other, aspects, of his masculinity. Let’s just say, we all know what they say about dudes with big feet. And his will be a hefty size 14. Too bad for his mother, our house is also going to reek like a Varsity locker room, because those feet, and the rest of him, will be all raw male, all the time. Pumped and ready, brimming with energy, like a Golden Retriever, if it were a 6’2” behemoth. The toughest bit was straightening him out. Giving him that good old fashioned, hot-blooded straight male instinct, making him drool over the coeds and cheerleaders, chasing girls like every young man should. The videos worked their magic well, the supplements setting his balls ablaze, churning out testosterone to fuel his primal need for aggression, for hard work, and effort, and sweat and sex. He fought it until his best friend Jenna, without realizing what her playful teasing was doing to him, had been on the couch with him, and had leaned over, and nibbled his ear one night while watching a movie. He'd lost his gold star that night. Quickly, and with all the confusion and passion that comes with young love and first times. Jenna had been stunned when he’d practically pounced on her, and from there, hours passed, and they wore themselves out right there on the couch. The next morning, he was mortified, but he couldn’t help but kiss her when she woke and complimented him on his… performance. It's been 6 months, and you’d never know he wasn’t always a muscled up, sweaty, straight boy, chasing girls at school, slacking off in class, and riding his new Lacrosse Scholarship that Sarge so nicely arranged when Theo got big and dumb enough to join the team. It seems Sarge knows quite a few coaches, Alumni, and Board members with a good bot of influence. It also seemed the school’s Jock population was skyrocketing, coincidentally at the same time as Sarge added a pool, an extension, and a garage full of classic cars to his house…

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starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies · 3 months

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Officer Down | J.H.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: Jay takes a hit to the chest during a shootout and gives you quite the scare. Based on episode 6x2.

A/N: I finally wrote something!! (Shocking I know) it only took me 7 months but I’ve finally got a new fic for yall. I’m sorry for being so slow to write but the last 7 months have been ROUGH.

I’ve been wanting to write this fic forever and was finally inspired to finish it after rewatching the episode. I don’t really like how this turned out but that’s what happens after writers block I guess

Warnings: near death experiences, guns and shooting

Word Count: 637

This case had been difficult for the team, Jay getting hit his hardest with his dad being one of the victims on the fire. The longer the chase for the arsonist, the more you could see him spiraling. You expected it, all things considered. Jay may have said they didn’t have the best relationship, but it was still his father. What you didn’t expect was for Jay to disobey a direct order from Voight and go after the suspect on his own.

After you took his truck and two way, you thought he would be safe, far away from the action. So when you heard his call come in over the radio, your heart sank to your stomach.

“This is 5021 George. Emergency. Shots fired. Offender down, need an ambo. Lower Wacker and Columbus.”

As soon as you heard his location, you took off running, Kevin close behind. Rounding the corner, you saw Jay unmoving on the pavement, his side covered in blood.

“5021 Victor. Officer down. I repeat, officer down. Lower Wacker and Columbus. Get us an ambulance!” You rushed to Jay’s side, leaving Kevin to take care of the offender.

You tried to stay calm as you ripped open his shirt, panic threatening to override your training. You could see he was bleeding from his side, but you couldn’t tell what the damage was from the other bullets.

“Jay? Hey, talk to me.” Your voice wavered.

Jay was breathing heavily, looking at you with wide eyes. You pulled his vest away from his body, feeling under it for the bullet.

“It didn’t go through. It didn’t go through.” You pressed on the wound at his side with shaky hands. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

You watched intently as the paramedics patched up Jay in the back of the ambulance. There were officers all around you, blocking off the scene and questioning the other members of the team, but you tuned it all out.

Once the paramedics were done treating him and he had gotten a thorough scolding from Voight, you made your way over.

“Hey.” You took a seat next to him. “You gonna be okay?”

Jay looked at you sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m okay. No serious damage, just a few stitches and some major bruising.”

“Good.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I just couldn’t stop myself.” He said quietly.

You nodded lightly, giving him a small smile and patting his leg gently. “I know.”

The paramedic came back over and you used the interruption to excuse yourself. You could feel the aftermath of the situation setting in and you needed to get away from the scene.

You heard footsteps behind you and Kevin appeared at your side. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yep, I’m good. I’m fine.” You replied, unable to keep the emotion out of your voice.

Kevin put a hand on your arm, slowing you down and turning you towards him. “Woah, woah.” You couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you met his gaze. “Yeah, that’s the adrenaline wearing off. It’s okay.”

“I thought he was dead.” You choked out the words.

Kevin put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. “So did I.”

As the two of you made it back to the cars, he brought you in for a hug. You gripped his shirt tightly, embarrassed by your crying, but soaking in the comfort after the emotions of the past hour. You knew out of anyone, Kevin would never judge you for being human.

“I gotcha.” He rubbed your back comfortingly. “C’mon, Sarge said we’re done for the day. Jay’s in good hands. I’ll drive you home.”

You spared one last glance back towards Jay as you got into the car, only to find him looking right at you, his face etched with concern.

Writing Masterlist

#jay halstead #chicago pd #one chicago #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fic #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead blurb #jay halstead one shot #chicago pd fic #chicago pd x reader

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gentlyweeps-world · 3 months

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Promises

summary: You and Logan find a way back to each other.

pairing: logan sarge x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, perv guy, fluff

prev part

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

It had been four months. You two hadn’t blocked each other on anything, if anything you two were stalking each others media.

You spent your time focused on yourself, even if the entire time you hoped and prayed that Logan would randomly show up at your door.

He didn’t.

So you went out with friends and drank, it wasn’t the best decision but you did it anyway.

“Do you really think you should be drinking that much?” Your best-friend asks, trying to get the cup out of your hand.

“Yeah I’ll be fine!” Your slur out, stumbling down the steps of your friends staircase, back down to the kitchen, accidentally bumping into someone.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry..” You say with a giggle, feeling an arm snake around your waist. “Hey there baby, you alright?” A low voice says, it was a guy, you had met him earlier at the party but couldn’t recall his name.

“Oh you’re Y/n aren’t you? Y’know I thought you were so hot earlier, what are you doing after this party?” The guy asks, you could smell the alcohol from his breath.

You can barely get a word in as you feel more and more intoxicated. The guy is clearly taking that advantage since your vulnerable state. The only words you can get out are stuttered, or mumbled.

“I’m- I- I have a boyfriend..” You say very shakily. The whole time you couldn’t stop thinking about Logan and how much you want him back. No matter how many people were trying to hit on you while you were out, your mind was always on him.

“Where is he then?” The guy chuckles out, tightening his grasp around your waist.

“I’m gonna go text him..” You mumble out, shoving the guy off and away from you as you walk to the front steps of your friends place, sitting on the front steps you let out a sigh, enjoying the feeling of the cool nights air against your skin.

You pull up Logan’s contact on your phone, deciding to text him.

“Please come get me”

“I’m on my way”

A small smile forms on your face, at least he’ll still pick you up.

You wait patiently for Logan to arrive, and at some point you managed to doze off.

“Y/n, Y/n?” You hear a voice speak out, hands on your shoulders gently shaking you awake.

“Hmm?” You mumble out, slowly opening your eyes to meet the blue ones of Logan- your Logan. “Oh- Logan…it’s you..” You say with a soft smile, eyes twinkling up at him.

Logan stares back in silence for a moment, just enjoying the view of you and finally deciding to speak.

"You drunk?" He chuckles nervously with a slight smile on his face.

“Yeah- yeah definitely..” You reply with your own chuckle. You take his hands and let him pull you up from your spot.

“I’ll take you back to your place..” He says, lacing your fingers together and leading you to his car.

It was a silent car ride back, until Logan decided to speak up. “Does that happen a lot? Y’know..you..” He says, trailing off.

“Uhm- yeah, kind of..sorry this is embarrassing..” You say with a sigh, quieting down as he pulls into the parking garage at your apartment building.

You both silently get out of his car, as you walk to your floor, Logan wraps his arm around your waist, knowing you’ll end up tripping and falling.

Once in your apartment you go to your room and throw a hoodie on over your outfit, falling down onto your bed, momentarily forgetting about Logan behind you.

“Is that my sweatshirt?” He asks, not moving from his place, seeming like he didn’t want to overstep his welcome.

“Oh yeah, I guess so..I wear it to bed every night…” You mumble out, looking down at the clothing item you have on.

“Yknow you’re welcome to stay..”

“We need to talk”

You both smile, chuckling at the fact you both spoke at the same time.

You pat the spot next to you, Logan takes the hint and sits next to you, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Thank you for never giving up on me..” Logan whispers out, looking at you. You knew instantly what he was talking about.

Over the time of your break- or breakup, whatever it was, Logan ended up in IndyCar.

You had supported him, still liking posts and following his efforts. You had even seen him, briefly at an IndyCar event, you both made longing eye contact, until he was rushed away.

“Of course..” You say, giving him a soft smile.

There’s a moment of silence, both of you just basking in each others company. “I think you owe me a kiss, for all of this time apart..” You finally say, grinning at Logan.

“Really? I mean- yes” Logan says with a beaming smile, leaning over towards you and pressing his lips to yours.

His hand goes to your hair, gripping some of the strands and pulling you closer into him, desperation and hunger clear in the way you two kissed.

“I’ve missed you- I’ve missed you so much, thank you Y/n, thank you..” He breaths out against your lips, taking a moment to look at you before connecting your lips once more.

He trails his kisses down to your neck, leaning you both down against the bed as he moves on-top you, face buried in your neck as he kisses there.

“I love you Logan..please never leave again..” You breathe out, snaking your hand into his hair.

“I promise I’ll stay, I promise we’ll stay together for now on..” He says, moving away from your neck to smile down at you.

“Good..” You whisper out, reaching up to cup the side of his face.

Everything was right.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

radio 🪩: I hope this second part was good 💙

#formula one #formula 1 #logan sargeant #formula 1 x reader #f1 #williams f1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #logan sargeant x reader

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aconflagrationofmyown · 7 months

Text

Even Goldish in the Privacy of Bowls do it

A Sarge & lil Mama episode

circa 1966 (yes this got moved a little from original shooting time of the movie hinted at here-in, shh)

Elvis Presley x original character -chart refresher for kid’s ages HERE

Warnings: 18+ -y’all, this is perhaps my most unhinged attempt at chaos yet. Finally we’re getting to see more of the kids, maybe more than wanted when a man’s just trying to grab a quickie in the shower with his wife. Warnings include unhinged family chaos, filthy smut, Elaine using firearms, brief mention of animal death by gunshot, brief mention of implied young children sleeping in their parents bed/bedroom while past sexual activities may have taken place, and -PLEASE NOTE- multiple references to an eating disorder on Elvis’ part. Troubling issues like this are integral to him and his mindset at the time so I include them, but please be aware there’s language in here that’s dismissive and condoning at times by certain individuals, just as it’s pleaded against by others. Along with brief body issues and shaming. Just a caution.

Word count: 12k -hope ya missed my tomes lol

Thanks: ever so much thanks is owed to many for their help and support but particularly to the dolls who made this so much better worse with their suggestions. Calling out @missmaywemeetagain @elvisabutler @eliseinmemphis @ab4eva @stylespresleyhearted

Summary: when Elaine visits the Colonel’s bungalow early on a Hawaiian dawn to defend her man and his appetite for her fried chicken -bringing along a loaded firearm for emphasis- the pelicans aren’t the only things startled.

Seven o’clock in the balmy hours of a Hawaiian morning, a solitary gunshot broke the peaceful silence and sent the beach birds squawking into the jungle’s dense foliage.

As seven AM was an ungodly hour of the day to expect anything from a human being, Elvis Presley was still in bed, asleep, and finally settled into that sorta circadian rhythm that helped him sleep through nightmares, alarm clocks, voracious wives and the pokes and prods of three to five children in his bed.

But a gunshot was jarring enough he swam to the surface of consciousness long enough to fling an arm out and pat Laney’s sweet ass and mumble an inquiry as to wether she had any clue why someone was shooting a gun in fuckin’ Hawaii. Especially as he, the only one likely to do so, was, quite obviously, in bed with her.

Except Laney’s sweet flesh wasn’t anywhere to be grabbed the more he flailed his arm in the cold sheets and, with a sudden bolt of terror, Elvis sat up and searched about the room only to find her gone. Jack was, predictably, still clinging to the same pillow Elvis had mistaken as her. He felt a little validated by that.

Two more gunshots punctuated his growing alarm and before two seconds had passed he was flying out of bed despite the way Jack’s legs clung to him and he exited the bungalow door with nothing but his silk night shorts on and espadrilles.

“Laney? The hell are you, woman?” he bellowed out the veranda with caring bravado.

No answer. Which didn’t mean much but it was harder to shake shit like this since the recent uptick in hate crimes and the way those girls had jumped her at their own gate last summer. His knuckles ached at the mere memory of the pummeling he’d given those tarts’ car hood. Nothing funny or harmless about it.

“Laney!”

Jesse barreled out shortly after and stood beside Elvis with a mimicking pose of concern, staring out at the beach with his hands on his hips, surveying the glittering water in the fresh sun’s rays and the undisturbed sand for miles. She wasn’t anywhere to be seen for that long stretch of golden beach.

“You seen your mother?” he asked Jesse sternly.

“No sir, didn’t hear her go out either. She not in bed?”

“No, and I didn’t hear her either. Neither did Jack and he’s always wound round her like a sloth to a branch.”

“Maybe she’s the one doin’ the shootin.” Jesse ventured with a mild expression of hope.

Father and son were both recalling when Elaine had given Elvis ample complaint and ample warning to do something about his reprobate pet chimp and when nothing was done and a child was harmed, Laney stalked into the den where Elvis and the boys were going over rehearsals and asked if he’d like to do the honors of shooting the damn monkey. When he laughed her off she trumped upstairs and the next thing Elvis knew was Tink clipping past the den and out the front door in her heels with his shotgun in her hand, while poor, unfortunate Scatter was being carried by the scruff of his sailor costume.

By the time Elvis caught up with her she’d put five holes in the hairy little pervert. To be perfectly honest he was aghast at such overriding of his jurisdiction but it didn’t prevent him from appreciating that when she meant business, she meant it.

So, it was plausible Laney was shooting something at seven am, and that was one of the reasons Elvis loved her. The only trick was, there was no Scatter here, no enemies in the general vicinity for her to be shooting at.

Elvis commented as much to his young son in grave deliberation.

“ ‘Cept for the colonel.” Jesse pointed out blithely and at that excellent observation all of Elvis’ blood felt like it rushed to his brain and pounded within like a tribal drum.

“Oh sweet merciful Jesus-“ Elvis wheezed and took off from his porch in a sprint along the beach hedges, towards the colonel’s adjacent bungalow, the roof of which -now that he was looking- appeared to have smoke coming out of its abnormally saggy thatch.

“She didn’t like it when he called ya fat yesterday!” Jesse was still hell bent on a little redeeming PR and Elvis waved at him with the back of his hand in acknowledgment that, if Laney was murdering, it would be for him.

And his fat self.

And for the reputation of her fried chicken that Elvis had been laying off of ever since he got so damn pudgy no director would hire him without contractually asking for a little casual bulimia on the side.

It was all part of the business, the snow job of an available and attractive man made harder by the real life presence of a wife and brood of children. The addition of a decidedly fatherly gut wasn’t gonna make them money.

He got it. Laney didn’t.

He tried to jog faster through the sand before she put her fingerprints all over the scene.

Inside the bungalow Elaine fanned the smoke out of her face with red tipped fingers and kept her diction very clipped as was most effective with this self consumed weasel.

“Am I understood? No more sedation and no more starvation and stop recommending those damn uppers that keep him buzzing while his body goes undernourished.”

Elaine still gripped the shotgun barrel, right there by the racker thingy but Parker had watched this woman long enough to know that if he agreed, then she would be pacified enough, he’d live to see another day.

“I get you, Mrs. Presley,” he assured in a pleasing tone, one that always suggested she started this long war between them, “no more. It was the business I was thinking of, it is my role. And yours is to nurture. You cannot expect me to have the same leniency as a wife, but I bow to your superior discretion.”

“You’ve kept him from home, colonel, robbed him and my children of valuable time together just because he knows he’ll be tempted to eat when he’s home. You’re a cruel, heartless Scrooge, that’s what you are. And this ain’t over.”

“It was merely business, Elaine.” he looks close to crying and she feels tempted to blast another shell into his roof.

“It's not your fault Colonel,” she steadied herself and he always liked how she was not so emotional like some women, even if she was icier than Elvis would ever admit, “I wouldn’t expect you to know what appeals to women, you never had the chance to appeal to them yourself. But I’ll tell you now, just for your excelsior betterment, some women like a sturdier man, some women like more cheeks on their husband, and your gravest omission when thinking of his appeal -a slight ponch rubs ever so delightfully on a woman’s clitoris when making love. You have heard of those, haven’t you? Maybe not, I’ll leave you to peruse the encyclopedia. It’s under C.”

Elvis got smacked in the face by the opening door as she stepped out right as he barreled in.

“Good morning honey, why on earth are you awake?” she greeted blithely as the door swung behind her and she raked his bed head back into place with her hands.

“Because you were shootin’ up the damn island.” he cried, “The hell’s goin’ on, Tink? You kill the colonel?”

“No. Of course not.” she rolled her eyes, “I’m just on a roll, keeping varmints in their places. It was his turn.”

“What’s he done wrong?” Elvis was aghast.

“Oh honey we haven’t got the time for all that on such a perfect morning.” she laughed instead, “C'mon back to bed, when you wake up again I’ll make you your favorite.”

“I can’t have flap jacks right now, Laney, you know that.” he mumbled sullenly as they turned back to the path leading to their own bungalow.

“Yes you can.”

“Says who?”

“Says the woman who owns ya before God, that’s who.” Elaine retorted sharply and he sucked in a breath in appreciation of the vindictive mood still clinging to her. He should chastise her for her language but right now he didn’t wanna shift the mood. The racked gun at her side may have added to the thrill a little.

“You’re real pretty totin’ that thing around in just your kaftan.” he complimented

“Oh Naughty.” she breathed, a little blush flaring on her face. His simple little sweetnesses still getting to her far more than any of his wiles or spice.

“Really, just so pretty, sun’s gettin’ in your hair like it’s what it got up to do this mornin’. S’all gold.”

“Oh naughty, hush.” Elaine felt a fit of compliments coming on and was a little rusty at receiving them, truth be told.

“Why can’t I tell ya you’re pretty?” he laughed.

“You can.” she shook her head in amusement and tried to keep walking but his narration stalled her a few steps down the path.

“Your legs are gold too.” he was saying “Is this like your witchin’ hour or somethin? Do I gotta get up at ass crack a’dawn to catch ya like this?”

“I am in a kaftan, Elvis. And this is hawaii, hardly a new sight.” Elaine laughed herself.

“Yeah, and the sun sure goes right through it.” he was admiring the way her legs were shapely shadows under the cream linen, the illuminating ball of fire in the sky giving him a little show. “Is this how early I gotta get up to see this?”

“You’re sleep deprived, that’s why you’re so astounded by a woman in a kaftan, c’mon and I’ll help ya get back to sleep.”

“No, no I don’t wanna go inside yet.” he objected like a child in the middle of his construction when the dinner bell goes off, “There’s kids inside.”

“Yeah there are.” Elaine’s lip curled in wry amusement.

“Colonel gets ya alone but I don’t.” he wasn’t saying it accusingly, just a contemplative pout and Elaine shaded her eyes to watch his face as he stood in front of the glittering ocean, so bright its reflective rays were almost painful this early in the day. “Why’ve we got so many damn kids.” he joked, “Hardly see ya.”

“Aww well I’m here now.” she was touched and a little confused by this mood but she sauntered up to him, leaning the shotgun against a dune marker, and put her arms around him.

That seemed to be the right course of action as he gave her one of those soft little expressions that weren’t smiles so much as they were bashful little cheek scrunches of recognition. The extra cheeks on him made the expression almost intolerably cherubic. “You got up to blow his roof off but..” he can’t accuse her of not getting up to be with him, that was a damn lie, Elaine somehow managed a schedule that fit both the normal world’s waking hours and incorporated in his bizarre nocturnal clock, he very rarely was awake while she was asleep although the same couldn’t be said for him and this morning it nagged him, what little pleasant nothings he might be missing at seven in the morning.

“It don’t make a habit of it,” she reminded softly, “he just needed a talking to. It’s like spanking or putting a child to bed, never meant to disturb you and was gonna slip right back in next to you.”

“Yeah well, three gunshots kinda have the opposite effect, woman.” he shook her shoulders playfully.

“Well I think I got the message across.”

“What was the message?”

“I-“ Elaine paused to restructure her complaint into the mildest terms possible to preserve his sleepy temper and the peaceful scenery around them. “It’s kinda like you were saying with me! I miss you, the children miss you and it’s got nothing to do with movies and making money. You’re tired from the pills and from the starving and -lord, if I see you excuse yourself after one of my meals one more time just to hear you gaggin’ it right up, I’ll-“ she couldn’t quite finish that, wasn’t sure what she’d do but the most constructive thing she could think of after hearing it last night before bed was to visit the colonel and put some fear of God in him.

“How’d you-“ he scratched the back of his neck, sheepish.

“Oh heavens Elvis!” she pinched his cheek, “It’s the oldest one in the book for us women, when I didn’t shift the weight in two months after having a second set of twins it was recommended to me by all the other wives. Just because it’s old or common doesn't make it healthy and I’m just saying that if you’re unhappy and wanna fit in your old slacks then so be it, I’ll feed ya salads and cut down on the butter but there ain’t a single movie producer I’m gonna let stipulate or pay you to starve yourself. Sweet Jesus I- I know you like looking pretty but for god’s sake! You are! You are pretty, you’re Elvis Pretty Presley for the love of God and what are your children gonna think growin’ up watchin’ you treat yourself this way? It isn’t business, no! No! It isn’t! Hush up! It’s not! Business can be constructive or destructive and Christian business only builds up. Actin’ like a pagan by starvin’ your bodily temple that the Lord gave ya isn’t gonna sell us more movies.”

“You done?” he asked her after letting out a long whistle.

“No not quite,” she cooled her tone a little but stopped her hug to cross her arms and hug herself defensively, “Marlon told me they’ve been asking the same from him and he told them to go- well, you know. And they did. They’re still casting him in serious roles even if he’s not a breathing Adonis. They should be castin’ you in movies about human life not posin’ you like some cut out in a storyline.”

“Brando told ya this?”

“Yeah.” she said, “Because Brando’s manager does what he’s supposed to. I was just reminding the colonel that he is *your* manager which means he’s supposed to be your advocate not your damn jailor!”

“Sheesh alright,-“

“Elvis! It’s serious! I mean if Marlon-“

“God!- stop all this talkin’ about Brando, dammit!” Elvis bellowed and Elaine flushed bright red for an instant and it made him do a double take, thinking he saw a flicker of something new there but in an instant it was gone and -this was Laney, it couldn’t have been there in the first place, “Lord ya need to cool off.” he muttered.

He saw Elaine heave in a deep breath and cup her hand over her nose in that tell-tale way she had when she was regaining her control, started with the nose then the hand would go to the lips and then drop as she shook it out like casting out the damn emotions it collected before it fell to her side, diamond ring glinting in the morning light.

He wanted to say he missed her again, but that felt redundant. Instead he busied himself with observing how pretty she was and before he could voice that again, her eyes cleared and she smirked at him.

“Last one in is chicken.” she dared him before taking off over the sand, headed for the decently violent surf.

That was an old trick of hers, when shit became too real she just- played, instead. He felt it was for his benefit but maybe not, maybe it kept them both sane. He was as fond of the old trick as he had been the first time she pulled it in the studio back in ‘56. Elvis caught up to her about three paces from the surf and managed to swing her up in his arms and crash into the water together. After that first gasp inducing plunge and the salty sting up the nose, the water became a sparkling friend to them, and holding onto each other they surfaced and bobbed for a brief time, enjoying the sounds of the island waking up.

“So I guess I gotta get up at the crack a’dawn to do this with ya.” he griped again and pouted into her neck.

Elaine laughed and stroked the curling hair at the base of his neck, “If you want to escape the heat of the day and catch this lighting, then yes, yes you do. Otherwise, I’m here anytime you want me.”

“Why’d we make so many people!” his face puckered playfully for a moment, “I miss you!”

“I dunno, just sorta happened.” she fibbed herself and after a moment of disbelief he caught the joke and laughed too.

“I-I mean I try to be a good father-“

“You’re an excellent father .” Elaine butted in sternly.

“a-and part of that is bein’ with ‘em and I do try,” he laid his head back partially and let the water buoy him, “whatever you may say, I do try, but when I try I-I well, I let Daisy give me a haircut because she had her heart set on it and then when I get to the film set I’m told that was a ‘dis-reee-spectful’ thing to have done. I just can’t figure out how to manage what everyone wants from me. Just can’t figure it out.”

“Elvis, I don’t know why you’re caring so much what a half a dozen crusty old men say.” Elaine murmured, “Especially not when your wife finds your haircut rather fetchin’ and thinks the meat on your bones feel real nice when you’re up against me.”

“Oh?” Elvis tipped his head back up and seemed to register their close proximity for the first time. As if a switch had been flipped it seemed to be all his eyes could process, the material of her transparent kaftan clinging to what parts of her torso he held out of the water by his hold on her thighs and- Elaine thought it sweet how sometimes her man had a singular track in his mind and that was for sex, but just as singular could be some other focus and a near naked woman wouldn’t strike his as suggestive at such a time until he was made to notice. “Oh, Laney!” his eyes lit up as he surveyed his wife and then the coastline behind her, “Hell, baby, we’re alone, we’re genuinely alone!”

“I know.” her voice couldn’t keep from pitching low as she tightened her legs around his padded hips and watched in awed appreciation for the way his face’s coloring looked like it belonged in the blush splashed sea. “Seven am, for the lighting and for -the solitude.”

“Oh I like the lighting.” he muttered as if to himself as he swayed closer, eyes glued to her wettend lips. “And I like not havin’ all those damn people around. You get it don’t you?”

“Yes I do.”

“You tired of our friends?” he asked.

That could be trick question so she carefully shrugged it off, “Not really, you?”

“Not really just-“ Elvis pondered for a bit, his full cheeks squishing his mouth up and he looked the closest to his babyish self when he had married her than he had in ten years. “It’s just always so crazy ‘round us and I -I want more of this. Just not at seven am. I’ve got a naked woman in the ocean and I’m so sleepy I can’t even stay on track to get in her!” and he laughed ruefully.

“You can just kiss me?” she begged, “Kiss me and we’ll get you back to sleep.”

As if he knew what kind of his kisses she’d been missing most in this fast paced life -for Elvis Presley had many different kinds of kisses for Mrs. Presley- Elvis brushed her hair off her face with gentle care before thumbing at her throat, making her pulse jump from the swipe of his thumb before he brought his lips nearer and nearer as her own trembled and puckered in anticipation until after painful restraint those two plush pillows caressed her own. And stayed. And stayed.

Stayed until the screech of a car peeling out on the path they'd just abandoned made Elaine look up and she saw the Colonel’s conveyance speeding inland after breaking to view their little rendezvous.

“I’m sure we cut a rather scandalous figure in here.” she realized.

“Where’s the scandal when you’re married?” Elvis scoffed. “Besides, not even the paps want a picture of me when I’m this fuckin pudgy-“

“-oh not this again!” Elaine growled, kneading said pudge with vigor as if it would get her point through him better.

“Laney, you're sick in the head, we’ve established this already.” he replied, teasing yet not entirely unserious, “What appeals to you ain’t a rule for the rest of the world.”

“Ha.” she tossed her head back, “Let’s talk about trends then. The trend is towards beefier, hairier men, less of this pristine crooner image, more of the beefcake -Redford, Bogart, that sorta thing.” Learning her lesson on the beach, she omitted Brando from the list.

“Neither of those men are fat.”

“And neither are you.”

“But I don’t look like a star no more-“

“-oh, oh trust me,” she crowed, “if you got yourself a role where you could play a man, a real , raw, gritty man, theaters would be forced to change their seat cushions.”

Elvis scoffed again but asked again with helpless curiosity, “W-what kinda man? I mean, I’m playing real men, honey. Whadda ya even mean, Tink?”

Elaine kneaded his shoulders and pondered the earthy, sultry lines of his face and the heft of his chest beneath her hands, “A working man.” she admitted. “Salt of the earth working man. A man they show working. That’s what I mean.”

“Want me to play a mailman or somethin?” he rolled his eyes. “Real innovative, honey. I’ve been a race car driver, a-a-a Cowboy, I-I’m playin’ a pilot now-”

“I mean a hefty, strong working man who crawls out from under a sink he just fixed and lays a lonely housewife on her husband’s table and gives her something to keep her company at night.” Elaine rasped in his ear.

She felt the gust of his shocked gasp against her wet ear. “Hell, Laney,” he choked, “this-this somethin’ you wanna play?” he sounded scandalized and eager all at once.

“Always, when you’re ‘in this state’, my dear.” she murmured, thumping at his back significantly.

“Hell mama, I could lay you out good.” he swore, going back in for another searing, messy kiss.

“Is everything alright boss?” a yell from the shore startled them both and Elvis fumbled with his grip on Laney’s ass to lower her further in the water for modesty’s sake.

“You’re a lil late, Jerrah.” he snarked back at his friend who was investigating gunshots from fifteen minutes ago. “But yeah, yeah all’s fine.”

“Yeah, yeah ok,” Jerry hollered back, slowly backing away from the beach and up to the hedges, “I can see that. That it’s alright, I mean, like, I can see y’all are very alright. I mean, yeah ok, I’ll go.”

“Why’s he actin’ so prissy.” Elvis grumped but began to ease them both out of the surf anyway.

“You know why it is.” Elaine’s color heightened and Elvis’ grin grew wildly proud. “We were mauling each other a bit.”

“Oh you’re thinkin’ of those early days, hmm? Fresh back from Europe and alllll the world clutchin’ their pearls over how much we loved each other. Fuck ‘em.”

“Elvis!” Elaine prostested, amused yet aghast, “We gave them some cause!”

“Yeah buddy we did.” his tone held masculine admiration for the memories of leading Tink away to a darkened alcove in her pretty jewels and silks and taking her up against one of the ‘Cabana’s marble pillars. He’d had to move so slowly not to attract notice that it was practically cockwarming with a little jive to it.

“Don’t forget the boat.” she pointed out as if she knew he was hung up on another memory.

“Ooh, oh the boat.” he clutched his chest as if she’d brought up the fondest of memories and he was an old man reviewing the best in the twilight of his life, “God you looked so damn good in those photographs, Laney.”

“Elvis! It’s not a proud thing to be the first “indecent” photograph on the cover of Life Magazine.”

“We were fully clothed! They’d no idea what-“

“Yeah, yeah just a man casually playing hoola hoop behind his wife, I’m sure. That stupid captain’s hat,” she pretended to bemoan, “if you wouldn't have been wearing that I coulda resisted and we wouldn’t be on Life.”

“Five years ago, ‘bout time to give ‘em a refresher on the faces you make when lil Elvis is hittin’ the spot.” he snickered at his own joke as she swatted him towards the stairs to their bungalow.

“Five years is not sufficient to dim for me the awful talking to the colonel gave us that night.” Elaine retorted wryly and watched Elvis’ broad back shiver at the recollection before he jiggled up the steps in just his soaked silk night shorts. She stayed below for a moment just to enjoy the dripping, meaty sight of him.

“Lord mama, what was all that for? Was that you?” a wall of young voices hit them as they stepped into their house, five children in various stages of undress and sleepwear scattered around the front kitchen area and worked up by excitement to an ungodly level of energy this early in the morning.

“Yes, that was me.” she admitted cheerily and Elvis loved her for it. “Oh heavens, we forgot the gun-“

“I’ll get it mama!” Jesse was up out of his seat in a flash. “What’d you shoot with it?”

She kissed his forehead in a good morning greeting and soothed, “There was a varmint out back, kept me awake all night so I took care of it.”

“Oh, that’s real cool, mama.” Jesse’s eyes filled with admiration before he backed outta the screen door and flew down the path to get the gun in a blur of blue swim drawers.

“Cool.” Elaine repeated and tested the compliment on her tongue as Elvis laughed in a tired rumble that reverberated against her back as he clung to her like a sleepy child, one hand around her waist, his chin on her shoulder and his other hand busy stroking a clinging Rosalee’s head.

“Yeah, you’re real cool.” he insisted, his voice warbling.

“Outta sight.” Daisy offered from her place on the floor amidst a pile of crayons.

“Mhmm!” Elvis grunted, all gritty and revved up in her ear and she shuddered from something besides her wet kaftan.

“Alright, alright thanks.“ she batted the air like she could knock the compliments down that way, while trying to spin in Elvis’ hold. “Your daddy needs his sleep. Woke him up with all that racket, y’all be good and I’ll be back to fix food. C’mon Mopey, let’s get ya tucked in.”

“But Jack’s in our damn bed!” Elvis bawled.

“Not for long! He’ll be up for breakfast, come on baby, let me tuck ya in.”

“Can’t tuck me in the way I need when he’s there.” Elvis grumped.

“Oooooooh.” Elaine drew it out in understanding before turning back round to address their sleepy little audience gathered round the kitchen table, “Y’all get the flour and maple syrup out for me, your silly daddy dunked us in the ocean so we’ve gotta shower off. I’ll be back.”

“I know how to make pancakes mama!” Ella piped up, suddenly very awake.

“Alrighty then, pancakes it is.” Elaine smirked and saluted her before leading Elvis into the adjacent master bedroom.

“You’re showering with daddy?” Jack grumped from their bed, his stuffed whale toy clutched and his blonde hair scattered across the pillow, “I need a drink, mommy.”

“There’s this great thing called a water faucet in the kitchen, son.” Elvis snarked, now he was the one tugging Elaine.

“Well I can-“ Elaine began before finishing with a little scream as Elvis hauled her bodily into the bathroom with him.

“S’real bad to let the salt stay in your hair for long, Laney, you know this.” he tsked before addressing Jack as he slid the door closed, “Mornin’ Trouble, hope that pilla kept ya good company.”

“You’re awful.” Elaine snickered behind him as she adjusted the faucets. “Having a rivalry with your own son!”

“You like gettin’ fought over, don’t you even try to deny it.” he murmured, coming up behind her to kiss her neck -and help her remove her kaftan. “And I can dance better than him. So it’s a clear choice, lil mama.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t give me half the trouble you do.” she grinned, making fun of his nickname for the poor kid.

“You’d be bored to death without it.” he growled and it sent sparks down her spine as his damp and slippery silk shorts rubbed against her butt.

There was a knock at the door. Elvis quickly left off his romancing and bodily picked up Elaine and set her behind the shower curtain in the steaming bath.

“What?” he asked of Jack, because of course it was Jack.

“You’re not in yet.”

“Thanks t’you,” Elvis laughed, “now what?”

“My whale wants to go swimming with you.” he held up his fuzzy sea creature.

Elvis took a very nasally breath and held it, “Jack, there’s a whole goddamn ocea-“

“Elvis!” came a rebuke from behind the curtain and only the thought of Elaine naked and slippery back there gave him fortitude to begin again, although in a mockingly patient voice:

“Jack, there’s an entire ocean out there for you and your whale to swim in. He swam yesterday and I’m sure mama’s gonna take ya this afternoon. Now go eat Ella’s pancakes. Good mornin’.” and he shut the door.

He tore into the shower so fast he didn’t even shuck his swim trunks, spurred by the image of Elaine lazily wetting her hair under the spray. She looked at him and at his dripping silk shorts and the outline of little Elvis poking needily out the waistband and bit her lip to suppress a grin. It was pretty gratifying to be so wanted.

“Did you lock the door?” she asked breezily and saw the exhaustion cloud his face once more.

“No.” he admitted and stared at the shower curtain while contemplating the door beyond it, “Nope, and if he comes in, it’s on him what he sees.”

“The kid has seen a lot and it hasn’t deterred him yet.” she laughed.

Elvis still stared at the curtain, “Yeah, maybe we should take him to see someone ‘bout that.”

“Oh hush,” Elaine smacked his belly, “couldn’t be hereditary or anything, could it?” she joked.

“I did not cockblock my father at every goddman opportunity!” he railed, playfully backing her into the tiled wall.

“Oh?” Elaine grinned, “That’s not how Vernon recalls it.”

“Vernon’s a bastard!” Six years after Jack’s birth and Elvis was still aggrieved by the suggestion that his doppleganger was anything like him. “Just makes that shit up to justify remarryin’ so fast, actin’ like mama weren’t the best thing that ever happened to his sorry a-“

“I know, I know.” Elaine soothed, regretting this line of conflict. “Just teasing.”

“Don’t tease.” he begged, kissing her under the spray, “I’m tired and I don’t want it.”

“Ok.” she assured, returning his smooches, “No teasing it is then. C’mon now, help me, step outta of them.” she kneeled under the fall of water and peeled away his shorts.

It was a gift every time, pulling the fabric away to see her man and that alluring place that all his costumes and paraphernalia teased but only she got to see at the end of it all. Those deep and skimpy tan lines that marked her territory versus the rest of him that the world saw, like a sovereign country’s borders. Thighs thicker than usual and soft brown skin stretching over his fuller belly, that dark thatch of hair so fastidiously trimmed and leaky lil Elvis collecting shower droplets on his bubblegum pink head. She shifted on her knees and licked her lips, so impatient to taste him she had to force herself to finish the task of untangling his shorts from his feet.

“Think he’s gone?” she asked Elvis as he stroked back her hair in anticipation, spreading his feet to get a stance that didn’t make him knock his knees and crumple at the first throat tickle she gave him.

“Awful quiet.” he shrugged, a whimper caught in his throat as Elaine shifted closer on the hard tile and peppered his stomach with kisses, kneading those handles of his on his fleshy hips and nuzzling the little crease he’d begun to show where he’d once been cut and firm. Her tongue darted out and traced those lines lovingly and the way she held him so firmly to her attentions and the sweet arch of her back beneath the spray convinced him to view such things a little gentler, a little less obnoxious while his Tink’s mouth was worshiping them so gently.

Down she went, lovingly nuzzling and licking a path across his creases and up his thighs, nosing as his balls and rubbing her cheek against him before opening her mouth and letting Elvis guide his throbbing length onto her tongue. He clasped her head and started a rhythm, a gentle and steady pump to the back of her throat which she knew by heart, and when the cadence had been perfected he let her be and grabbed the shampoo and lathered his own hair before tipping his head back in the water and washing the suds out. Then he poured out a dollop again and, rubbing it between his hands, began to massage it through her locks, lovingly swiping any run-off away from her eyes and swirling hypnotizing little circles into her scalp.

That made her moan. It sent the damndest spark to his very toes and he thrust in harder, hissing and smiling down at her. She was smiling back -around a mouthful of cock. And she looked so pretty doing it, there wasn’t a sweeter or lovelier face to be found when she was hollowing her cheeks and stretching her lips and batting her sparkly eyes. Savoring the feel of a man’s meaty weight in her mouth, letting him gag her with aplomb. The suds squished under his grasp as lewdly as the slurping sounds Elaine made when her gasps grew short and she tried to sneak in a breath or two between his thrusts.

“Hell laney, you’re prettier than you ever been.” he realized with his chest fit to burst from love for her, her and the way she massaged his thick sides and the way she always smiled when sucking cock. The way she blew the Colonel's roof off over a point of honor, “How’d I ever get so lucky.” he muttered, realizing suddenly that she reminded him of those early days, before the babies -any of the babies- back when she was toned and lanky and bare faced. She had the prettiest smattering of freckles when her makeup was gone, he swiped the shower spray from off them.

She looked a girl again, the girl who gave herself to him for safe keeping.

She was trailing one hand down her stomach, flat and firm again, and down and down till she was playing with herself, he could tell by the way her arm moved in time with her head. He rubbed at her scalp again.

Another moan. His toes curl. His spine ran like hot lava.

It had been three years since…a baby. That would account for the toned and lean look, he had a sudden epiphany. Felt a fool for it immediately after.

It maybe wasn’t what they wanted but something a little feral and fond flooded his chest at this old Tink. Something told him to marvel at her, marvel at her like he had in her soaked kaftan at the beach. He had a beautiful wife. Damn stunning and he just -he didn’t see her enough, he felt. Odd, that.

“Laney, laney, hold up.” Elvis tapped her jaw and pulled her off him, chuckling as she wheezed in a breath, spit and precum sputtering thick and shiny off her lips and caught herself against the slick tile wall as if she had sparks in her eyes.

“What baby?” she gasped with eagerness, playing with the suds on her breasts and looking up at him coyley, knowing that tone meant her man had a notion up his sleeve. Probably a dirty one.

“I-I-I w-wanna, I-I wanna see you.” he begged and when she still looked lost he clarified, “I w-w-wanna w-watch ya p-play wi’yeself.”

Elaine’s face flushed crimson in pleased gratification at his adoring tone and with one last look of skepticism at his bobbing and visibly pulsing cock, asked with soft eagerness, “How’d’ya want me, daddy?”

Oh lord, it had been awhile since they played this game and his heart skipped a beat in anticipation. “Want ya to lay down on the tile, baby,” he instructed and watched as she sank back on her haunches without argument, slowly spreading her legs and scooting down until she was laying amongst the swirling suds, “Now, I-I-I w-want ya to spread your legs, baby, nice and wide f’me.”

Elaine did as asked, her hair swirling out in the eddy of water, her belly a canvass of sprinkles, letting her right foot push into the encroaching shower curtain a little, feeling a draft of the cold outside air rush in. “Like this?” she asked, her mouth dry from the sight of his bulk standing in a straddle above her.

“Jus’ like that.” he nodded down at her, his eyes darting all across her beautiful shiny self as the spray pelted down on her after breaking across his body, “Now this next part’s important to get right, Tink. Ya gonna be a good widdle bitty f’me, ain’t ya?”

“Yes daddy, I’d do anything for you, anything at all!” her voice rose.

“Then you spread those pretty pussy lips for me,” Elvis directed, “wanna see your itty bitty rosebud, gonna let the water do the teasin’ for us. Wanna see ya cum from the drip.”

Elaine did as she was told and stretched her labia, sucking in a breath as a small jet of water landed on her teased vagina. “Ooh, l-like this?” she hoped, sucking at her lip, trying to get on top of the teasing sensation.

“Fuuuck yeah, oh fuck, ‘xactly like that.” Elvis’ eyes were glued to her wobbling little petals, battered beneath the shower stream as he began to strip his cock with cruel, tight jerks of his wrist. Elaine nuzzled his ankle and glued her own eyes to his heavy sack, swinging above her in perfect view as it tightened up, guarded by those delicious, meaty thighs and her mouth hung open in craving. A drop of water ran off his heavy balls and landed on her forehead. “Oh Laney, you’re just perfect honey, jus’ perfect.” he praised. “It feel good?”

She was pretty sure if they kept this up he’d be spouting down on her face in a matter of seconds. “Yeah, it really does.” She craned her head back and stuck her tongue out in optimism.

—————-

Back in the kitchen a disgruntled Jack wandered into the little gathering of his siblings who were eagerly dishing out advice and praise to Ella as she capably flipped decently fluffy pancakes and stacked them onto a steaming plate.

“There, that should do for a start.” she declared and even Jesse and his ever growing appetite assented as he set the kitchen table with forks.

“Rosalee.” Jack sidled up to the auburn haired little girl trying to make a swan out of the paper towel Jesse had laid down as her napkin.

“Yeah, Jack?”

“Daddy said he’s gonna take us swimmin’.” he lied with the most guileless tone, “You wanna come?”

It was a calculated move, and a stunt Jack had pulled often to back up his own devices regarding monopolizing Elaine.

Rosalee went nowhere without her father and everywhere that her father did go, she went. And Jack knew this. She had meltdowns when she was escorted off sets and had meltdowns when she arrived at sets to find him holding his young co-stars instead of her. Jealous and sensitive, there was nothing more precious to her than time with daddy and at this news of an impromptu frolic, Rosalee clambered off her barstool so quickly she nearly split her head open.

“What are you up to, Jacky?” Nine years old with a head twice older, Jesse was onto him and stared his towheaded brother down with slanted gray eyes, “How is it daddy’s takin’ ya to the ocean when he’s washing the ocean off him as we speak? Don’t sound like somethin’ he’d do before going back. Waste a’time.”

“I’m just bearin’ the news.” Jack held up his hands, “It’s what he done told me.”

“But daddy’s gotta sleep, Jack!” Ella protested, always so keenly aware of her father’s irregularities and fiercely protective of his health.

“Ooooh leave off, he promised!” Rosalee whooped in joy and tore back towards the master bedroom with a maniacally gleeful Jack following on her heels.

Ella dropped the pancake plate onto the tabletop with a thump and Daisy immediately grabbed her fork and skewered four at once.

“Where y’all goin’?” Jesse cried out after trying to get a pancake of his own, abandoning it in favor of running down his two rogue little siblings who were about to start banging at the bathroom door like they had a death wish.

——————

Inside the shower Elvis felt his climax hit him like a freight train and bracing himself with one hand on the tiled wall, he watched with flitting eyes as his thick ropes of come joined the water shower to spatter across Laney’s chest and then down to the pattering of the stream against her pink house, then back up again. His thighs quaked and his belly shook and he kept stripping himself as wave after wave took over him from the sight of her down there, looking up at him with a pleasured grimace as the jetstream wiggled her nub. She had to be close, he could tell from the lines on her forehead and he managed to lift his foot and press it gently on her lower belly, jostling her womb like he did with his hand when he was inside. Her toes curled.

“Ya almost there, ain’t ya pretty girl?” he gasped, his own toes curling as lil Elvis didn’t seem content to flag after one shot alone, still standing stiff and interested in the proceedings below him. Elvis’ hand started to cramp.

“Elvis-“ her pretty pink tongue came out and touched her upper lip, her breasts jiggling with every big heave of breath.

Just then a round of knocks sounded on the door and if Elvis was any judge of distance -and he was a good one- he’d wager they were coming from someone about three feet off the ground and blonde as satan himself. “Not yet!” he barked, well past being patient.

“Elvis!” Elaine fretted below him, so close her eyes looked scared from desire. “I’m -“

“That’s it, that’s it you just take your time and feel it, sugar pie, that’s it.” he cooed to her and stepped over her, turning round in between her legs and running his foot further down, pressing on her little mound and after observing her hesitant moan, slipped his big toe along her soft seam.

The way her legs snapped closed like a trap spurred him on, as did her happy gasp as she thrashed and gripped at her chest like she was trying to hurt herself with the squeeze. He wiggled his toe in further, snagging her lil hole and plunging in, his leg shimmying in that controlled way he’d perfected on stage and she shrieked, happily, he was sure, except Jack didn’t know that-

“Mama I know you’re in there!” He demanded from behind the door, driven to outrage by neglect.

Laney was gorgeous when she was coming, and while often a moaner in the moments leading up to it -when propriety allowed- she was a silent screamer in the throes of it. Elvis kept up the merciless jimmying of his leg all the way through it and watched with distinct enjoyment a sight he rarely got to see from this removed vantage point. Caught in the vice grip of pleasure Elaine couldn’t humor her little brat any more than she could call on Jesus for help and Elvis just smirked down at her evilly as he kept the stimulation up. Kept it up until he was getting kicked in the gut by an overwhelmed wife.

The faucet stabbed his back as he stumbled backwards, laughing those hiccuping laughs of his and jostling his throbbing balls in one hand as Elaine cupped her mouth and tried to get her breath back. “You ok?” Elvis giggled as he knelt down and crawled over her to cup her wet cheek and bring her back down to earth. She was giggling herself, unable to voice anything but giving him a thumbs up to assure she was ok. He smooched her cheek vigorously.

“You’re still-“ she tried to form a full sentence but couldn’t.

“Those diet pills.” he whispered in explanation, gingerly still stroking his hard cock but over-sensitive cock. “It won’t go down, Laney.” he whined a little as he humped her slick belly, conscious that this was a lil pathetic to do on the shower floor but this is what he missed, moments like these where they could trust each other with all of it. He couldn’t stop himself now just to make it a little less animalistic, a little less needy. Truth was he needed her terribly and he didn’t mind her knowing.

Elaine’s hands came up and clung to the backs of his meaty thighs, as high as she could reach over his hips and she begged in a hoarse whisper that underscored the way her eyes were heavy and half mast “Sit, please, sit on my face, Daddy. Wanna taste you, I’ll get ya drained.”

She’d seen the chafed markings on her little friend from all the tucking and taping the wardrobe department had put him through, she’d tended to them with Vaseline and kissed the booboos goodnight. From the way she had her mouth open and her chin tipped back -Elvis knew what his wife wanted and with a weak moan he crawled over her again and at her insistent hands, turned back around till they faced the same way.

69ing he’d heard it called from a co-star. A filthy sorta indulgence that his ingenious wife had discovered on her own without the benefit of co-star gossip or ‘new wife’ magazines. “Gosh yes, yes that’s it, smother me baby, you're a hunk like this you know?” She gushed, gripping his hips firmly.

“Mama?” got yelled through the door along with another knock and a small racket as if there were reinforcements approaching -wether for Elvis’ cause or Jack’s, was yet to be seen.

“Go eat your pancakes!” Elvis hollered over the noise of shower spray.

“I need mama to cut them up!” Trouble hollered right back and Elvis looked down to see his fair temptress waiver at the sound of her son’s dire plight.

“Oh no, no you don’t, don’t even think it.” Elvis corrected her as he settled over her, a hefty thigh on each side of her face trapping her where he needed her, hard tile and grout lines digging at his knees. He patted at her belly and rubbed her hips as he stared ahead at the wall and slowly, almost apologetically, lowered his package over her sweet face. One ball slotted into her waiting mouth perfectly, aided by her eager little hands as she snuggled it onto her waiting tongue and with a contented grunt he muttered, “All you need to think about right now, my lil Tinkerbell, is how full and stuffed your lil mouth is with daddy’s sugar plums, how nice he is to give ya a treat n’how good you’re lil mouth is gonna make daddy feel, so good I just might kiss your lil kitty in thanks.”

Laney always got a little woozy when he didn’t give her a choice, told him it made her feel like goo inside and like she was a baby again -not in a bad way, mind. She loved it and he capitalized on it on occasions like this. After years together he’d come to understand she enjoyed a little sternness so long as he mixed it with affirmations and gentleness after. Something his younger and randy self may have been pitifully short on in his eagerness to sample her. So Elvis found himself able to squash the shame of teabagging his wife in the shower rather speedily, the obvious and untampered joy she took in the act helping him, as well as the feel of her rolling the damn things, one at a time due to size, in her mouth like his nuts were a Listerine swish.

How someone could enjoy gargling ballsack or having their noses smashed to an asshole was a little beyond Elvis, but when he said as much to her, Tink had told him she didn’t get how he could eat bloody pussy for hours.

After arguing this they had to call a truce. No accounting for taste. And since then, as a treat, Laney gets to suck his balls with the only addendum being she can’t lick his ass.

Never stops her from kneading it though, digging at the plain globes with her nails and pulling it apart -for his sanity’s sake he likes to assume she spreads it so she can get some air down there. He wishes he didn’t like that feeling as much as he does but hunched over her in the shower he has to admit the stretch of it feels rather good, combined with her suckling his sack. Little Elvis begins to pulse like he gets the memo. The better it gets, the greater the sensation becomes, the more he moans and shifts and bends double till he’s biting her thigh to keep quiet. In doing so he stops sheltering her little house from the spray with his shoulders, and with malevolent delight, he notices her jerk from the water jet.

It’s fun to watch from down here, her pretty pink petals getting battered and he adds his tongue into the mix on occasion and she thrashes and screams around his balls and he keeps his thighs locked against her cheeks, muffling it almost completely. He’s missed this, not just the filthy want for each other but -but the selfishness to do it. Sure he had been a cad in their earlier marriage, using her more like an animated glory hole than a cherished child of God, but they’d both trade the exhausted lassitude of the past year for that rigorous idiocy in a heartbeat. There’s gotta be some middle ground. He just can’t come up with the right balance with Tink mouthing at his balls like a feral harmonica player tearing up the riff to Orange Blossom Special.

“Daddy! Daddy when are you takin’ us swimmin?” That’s Rosalee’s voice, coming through the door and Elvis’ heart thuds to a stop for a moment in complete confusion as to why his lil pet expects that of him this morning, “I’ve been waitin’ patiently! Please daddy!”

She’s been waiting, by the door, this whole damn time while Jack’s been doing his regular, moronic behavior. She has been good. And somehow there’s been a mix up. He’s had little enough time to play with the kids on this set and Rosalee always takes that absence the hardest. The tile is unyielding beneath his knees and his resolve waivers.

“Oh sweetie I-I-“ he brings his fist up to his mouth to try to steady his wrecked voice, “sweetie I didn’t say nothin about that, did I?”

Elaine, callous succubus that she is, ignores his fatherly plight and begins to strip the base of little Elvis like it’s gonna spurt pixie dust for her. He falls down a little more in his kneeling posture from the intensity of it, forehead banging against her shin as he claws at the slippery grout lines.

“Jack said you promised to take us swimmin!” Rosalee sounds close to tears and it makes Elvis plan on wringing Jack’s little neck while the desperate need to cum rattles in Elvis' head until he’s humping Elaine’s mouth like a maniac. She digs in harder and he hides a sob as a cough.

Angrily he peels her pussy wider and let’s the jets sting her little nub, locking his legs resolutely against her cries until he sees a stream going in the opposite direction of the shower flow, a pretty little arc of fluid straight from her pussy and if it weren’t so diluted by the shower he’d know it tastes perfectly salty sweet. Satisfied with his revenge he covers her again with his back and lays his face on the tile between her legs, trusting her to either let him get up and console his poor daughter or else finish him fast.

Going with the first option becomes entirely necessary when he hears the door crack open and a cold gust of air rustles the shower curtain.

Panic gives Elvis’ voice a thunderous edge as he shouts:“The hell are you doin’? Don’t you dare open the curtain, don’t do it! Do not!”

“Oh daddy please don’t hit me!” Rosalee wails this idiotic plea like it’s a line from some dramatic afternoon Soap Opera, and Elvis is quite sure that’s where she learned it.

“Oh, s-s-stop the d-d-dramatics!” he begs, half to his children and half to Laney who seems convinced he can come from ball sucking alone, while he’s quite sure he can’t today.

“You promised!” Rosalee continues crying, very near the shower but not touching the curtain.

“Jack!” Elvis' voice thunders shakily.

“Yes Elvis?” the kid replies very calmly from the sink area.

“G-get out! Both of ya- get out.”

“I just wanted to take a bath with you!” Rosalee stays from sheer horror at having provoked such temper from her ever-loving father, “I’m sorry daddy! I-I-I didn’t mean to make you mad, honest I didn’t! Jack said-“

“Guys, what the- come on, get out!” That’s Jesse’s beautiful voice resounding in the bathroom, sounding like a general at nine years old and Elvis is gonna have to buy the kid another motorcycle for always being such a swell fella in times of need.

“But Daddy promised to take us swimming-“

“Guys out!” Jesse grabs ahold of Jack’s tshirt and starts tugging.

“But swimming-“

“Only Mommy’s and Daddy’s swim in showers, sometimes-“ Jesse insists.

“I just came to tell mama that Ella has caught the stove on fire-“

“Jack, liars go to hell.” Jesse reminds.

Elvis realizes then that maybe his thighs are squishing all the sound from Laney’s hearing and that perhaps she’s just coasting while enjoying her favorite hobby, unaware of exactly how nuts it’s gotten in here. Nuts was a bad word for it but- he starts to pull himself off her only to feel her teeth snap in protest at the thin base of his scrotum.

He can’t help his yelped,

“Laney!” that in turn spurs Jesse onto a frantic beg,

“Kids come on! Really, we need to evacuate now!” The poor boy sounds frantic and Elvis wishes he had the moral fiber to get off his wife’s face this close to the finish line. But he doesn’t, not for Jack, not even for Rosalee and any other sweet idiot spawn who didn’t obey the closed door policy.

This isn’t the first time.

Hovering as he is, balls clamped in a toothy prison, it’s like Elaine finally hears it all, processes her children and their proximity, finally gets it without the soundproof padding of Elvis’ thighs. She responds accordingly. Instead of abandoning their tryst as he expected, like a ninja geisha, she simultaneously grabs his cock and bends him backwards between his cheeks into her mouth, while raising her foot for Elvis to muffle his impending scream around some perfectly manicured toes.

To a chorus of wailing youngsters and one very admanet eldest son who sounds like a shell-shocked veteran encouraging the green troops to pull back, Elvis feels the persuasive suction of Laney’s mouth around his throbbing head, a flick or five to his weeping slit and he’s giving into her efforts, biting her toe to keep silent and smacking at the shower curtain in an attempt to stifle the need to move with his release.

Elvis shakes to the floor with an exhausted splat as his orgasmic loss of reality gives him a blissful five seconds of escapism where he lays, cheek down in the swirling shower drain, thanking Jesus and God and the Holy Spirit for his wife.

Elaine surfaces from beneath him with the invigorated gusto of a woman satisfied with her work, pulling herself out from beneath her man’s inert form only to be hit by a toy whale that’s been hurled over the curtain and onto her wet head -a last little defiance by a growling Jack who is getting tugged out by Jesse. An impressive throw, one Elvis is responsible for helping Jack perfect with the football many a summer’s night on Graceland’s lawn.

“Oh you silly thing!” she shouts with a laugh, “If any of you sprites are still in here, make yourselves useful, hand me those towels on the countertop.” she adds as she leans over Elvis, straddling him to turn off the tap, sticking just her hand out the curtain and making grabby motions with her fingers till the feel of fuzzy cotton meets it. “Thanks, sweets.”

“Why’re you so short mama?” Rosalee’s voice asks and Elvis groans beneath her on the floor.

“Cause I’ve been playing with sea creatures.” she explains without missing a beat and Elvis’ slick back starts heaving beneath her from suppressing his laughter.

“Oh.” Rosalee accepts it with a sniffle, having spent many hours in the tub or hot tub on her knees, the better to help her toys swim around.

Elvis rolls over beneath Elaine’s straddle and smiles at her with eyes still crossed from going to the grown man’s neverland. “Alright Rosalee, you run on now we’ll be out in just a minute. Promise.” he speaks up.

“And swimming?” she begs as she retreats.

“Well, uh, we’ll talk about that over breakfast.”

Elaine makes a sad face at the realization he’s not going to let himself go back to bed after causing so much heartache in their little people. “S’ok.” he insists, reading her mind and patting her thighs.

Hearing the latch click and the silence of privacy restored, Elvis clasps her by her neck and brings her face down to his, kissing her passionately, licking at her tongue and the traces of his spend on it. “You sure know how to love a man, Tink.” he murmurs, clinging to her warm body as the shower tile turns cold.

“All I ever wanted was to learn to be the best for ya.” she whispers, sweet and gentle.

“Born the best.” he insists, “The rest was just…a bonus.”

She brings the towels she’s been balancing out of the wet, onto his chest, and sitting up they rub each other dry, soft smiles and drowsy affection making them clumsy and open.

They stagger upright together and Elvis throws his towel around her and she throws hers around him and they’re cocooned in terry cloth this way, standing in the dripping shower, snuggled together and nipping at each other’s lips.

“How’s my lil friend.” she asks, sneaking a hand between them in the damp warmth of their burrow and cupping his harmless, shrunk little appendage.

“He’s good, he’s real good.” Elvis giggles, his cheeks turning pink, “Gentle with him now, he got wrung out by a cruel, lecherous gal.”

“He sure did.” Elaine grunts satisfactorily and it’s the most masculine sorta sound Elvis has ever heard her make, full of smugness and a dirty, gritty edge he can’t quite believe came out of his woman, his woman who is so polished and elegant most times. As if to underscore this departure from demure normality and diminish it all at once, Elvis feels her hand move again beneath the towel before an electrifying sting slices up his spine and down his leg from his freshly smacked ass.

“Laney!” he cries again, utterly aghast and pink as a baby and she can’t stand it anymore, standing on tippy toes to neck him some more, vigeorusly smashing her lips to his as she yanks the shower curtain open with her free hand

She steps out while Elvis lingers and bends down to retrieve Jack’s sodden whale plushie. He may wring the poor creature out more violently than necessary but it makes his wife titter.

“God! - I love you.” she insists, surveying her man as he steps out, his wet hair dripping in a boyish mop down his forehead and his lips kissed and bitten puffy pink and his cheeks bunched in a grin despite their bashful blush and the soft accumulation of fluff and good living filling out his chest and swelling his belly just that little bit. “Sometimes I think it’s gonna kill me, gettin’ to enjoy you, getting to look at you so much. Feels indulgent somehow, like you oughta be rationed to a gal, the same way you’re dosed out to your fans in little bits, one movie a time.” she laughs at her own silliness and he shakes his head shyly as he tucks his towel into a covering around his waist. “One day they’ll find me keeled over from palpitations brought on by starin’ too long.”

“That’s what the obituary’ll say,” Elvis snarks, “but you and I’ll know the truth of the matter, that you’re a lil squirrel who likes her nuts so much she don’t take time to breathe. Mark my words, that’s how you’ll go if you keep this appetite up.”

“Then I hope they accuse ya of manslaughter, right after.” Laney grins and he stalls with his comb in hand, raised to coiff his hair back, waiting for the punchline, “Because I don’t wanna be up there without you for too long.”

“Laney!” he repeats for the upteenth time this morning, but this time it’s hushed and his lower lip wobbles with emotion and his eyes swim, touched by the sentiment. Clearing his throat he adds, “I still wanna uh, sometime -yeah, uh sometime do that thing you were t-t-talking about in the w-water.”

She makes a puzzled face as she wiggles into a tiny pair of shorts Elvis bought her last month. She’s fit as hell, and he’s envious of it, and has to admit Jack’s overdue weening did serve one purpose at least, it thinned her out like nothin’ else coulda.

“Play handyman or-or whatever.” he blushes and turns his face away as he hangs up his towel, aware that they haven’t the time to linger over this with the kitchen possibly on fire and his children eager for a swim. “Ya recall? -what you were sayin’? Me uh, playin’ a handyman or plumber or, uh, whatever. Come visit ya.”

“Oooh that,” she goads playfully wrapping her arms around his belly once more, chin in his shoulder blades, “you wanna swing by Graceland and fix a pipe or two, find the rich and spoiled Mrs. Presley wasting away in her gold cage, rich but wanting in the worst ways? Hmm?” she runs her finger down the shell of his ear and it’s flaming hot to her touch, he must be red as her nails in the face, “Wanna take her on the table and give her what her posh movie star husband can’t? Wanna do that, huh Naughty?”

“God y-yes.” he stutters, head thunking against the wall in desperation at the mere

concept.

“Wanna make a movie of it,” she whispers into his ear, “like those ones Thumper and I made? Wanna make a movie so Elvis Presley has to sit and watch it later, hmm? Watch his wife get taken by a workin’ man?”

“Nghhh…” he growls smacking the wall, overwhelmed by memories and prospects.

“I see, well, that’s settled then.” Elaine murmurs before stepping away from their embrace, flicking his bare butt one last time as she laughs, “Only you would get the hots for cuckolding yourself.”

“Anything involving rearrangin’ your guts on a table gets me hot.” he mumbles defensively and Elaine smirkes at him with a promise in her eyes as she makes her way past him. He snags her back to him briefly by a finger in her back pocket, “Hey you,” he says adently with his hand cupping her jaw, “I love you too. I love you somethin’ fierce.”

~~~~~

“Daisy!” Jack’s voice warbled with betrayal as he entered the kitchen, “You didn’t!”

“Daisy!” Ella chimed in, whirling around from the stove to survey the kitchen table and her demolished stack of pancakes, “There was enough there to feed uncle Jerry and us besides!” she cried out as her little sister swallowed down the last of her syrupy goodness with a shrug,

“Oh, oh Daisy, oh my, that’s gonna -that’s gonna bite ya later.” Jesse sighed as he pulled up a chair and pushed around his abandoned, now cold and half eaten single pancake on his plate. “Your stomach’s gonna kill ya, Mae Mae.” he explained to a remorseless Daisy Mae.

“I was hungry.” she defends as Rosalee sullenly takes a seat next to her twin, “Sorry Rosalee, I shoulda saved one for ya.” she conceded but Rosalee shook her head.

“I don’t feel like eatin’ anything.” Rosalee moped.

“Why not?” Ella turned again from the stove, affronted for the reputation of her irresistible pancakes. “I’ll put blueberries in them and everything for ya!”

“I’m not hungry!” Rosalee repeated close to tears and her little chestnut bob swayed with her head shake.

“What happened to you?” Daisy grunted.

“Daddy got mad at me.” she whimpered.

“No he didn’t.” Jesse sighs, settling Jack into a seat by the scruff of his t-shirt, “He’d just told y’all not to come in and you disobeyed. He ain’t mad. He’ll be right as rain in a minute, hold tight.”

“He sounded mad! He sounded sad!” Rosalee’s tone grew in emphasis.

Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at his empty plate as Rosalee’s whimpers grew from just that to outright crying. “No, no look it’s-“ he glanced over at the stove to his twin who was industriously cooking another batch but not fast enough to circumvent Rosalee’ meltdown, “it’s like, when we all used to sleep in the big bed,” he chose his words carefully for optimal grief assuagement, “you know how some mornings you thought daddy was cryin’?”

“Yeah.” her little voice was garbled by snot.

“Yeah but he wasn’t, was he?” Jesse pressed his point, “He was just tryin’ to hold in his laughs so he didn’t wake you, while mama or Ella was ticklin’ him.”

“Yeah.” Rosalee cracks a small smile.

“S’like that.” Jesse reminded, “He ain’t sad. You ‘member how he’d start bawling when we started ticklin’ too?”

“Yeah.” Jack smiled in reminiscence of mornings when they’d all pile on top of Elvis and tickle him while Mama held his shoulders down. “But I know you don’t tickle people in the shower.” Jack fired back with six year old conviction, “Elvis hisself told me it wasn’t safe.”

Before Jesse was forced to choose between explaining further or else sullying his daddy’s reputation for safety ethics in the shower -or in general- the man himself and Mama breezed through the door, hair wet and as smartly dressed as always.

“Alright, alright, kids what’s groovin’ huh?” Elvis barreled in like his kitchen was his stage and topics of tickling and sadness were shelved, much to Jesse’s watery eyed relief, though he couldn’t quite meet his mama’s eyes when she scootched past him with a kiss to his head on her way to the sink. “Hey you I’ve got a present for you.” Elvis addressed Jack before plopping a very sudden and deformed whale plushie on the boy’s plate.

“Thanks a lot Elvis.” Jack muttered.

“Look on the bright side Trouble,” Elvis laughed while reaching down Jack’s back to grab a handful of his jean’s waistband, “all ya had to do was wait fifteen minutes and now mama’s got your glass o’water and your pancakes’ll be cut in triangles. Imagine that, patience.” and with that laughing admonition Elvis hefted Jack out of his chair by his waistband and proceeded to jostle his second born son in the age old manner often referred to as a wedgie. It even made Rosalee laugh and Jack hiccup from something they all suspected was enjoyment, although the kid would never admit it. “Alright, everyone alive and well? No fires?” He took stock of the place and found it comparatively tidy -little wonder as the kids didn’t have time to wreck anything, too busy knocking on his door. “Ella Bug those smell amazing and- Daisy, why’re you actin’ put out?”

“M’fine.” his daughter protested even as her face was folded into the identical sorta scowl that sold him a lotta records back in the early days.

“Is everyone mad at me?” he balked.

“No, she just ate fifty pancakes while everyone else was… busy.” Jesse cleared his throat. “Should enter her in a contest.”

“Oh Daisy, no!” Elaine swiped back her black curls and knelt by her, “Is your belly hurting?”

“Startin’ to.” Daisy was forced to admit through clenched teeth.

“Lordy, Mae Mae, that’s impressive,” Elvis murmured as he took his seat and, in a well worn routine, opened his arms and lap in welcome to a still sniffling Rosalee who catapulted into him, “what got into you?” he marveled as he tucked Rosalee into a snuggle and peppered her now glowing face with kisses.

“They were very good.” Daisy insisted and Ella beamed with pride over the stack of freshly made ones she carried to the table.

“Bet they were.” Elvis praised, tongue poked through his teeth laughing, “Glad ya enjoyed yourself at least.”

“Come lay down sweetheart, here on the couch.” Elaine led her to the adjacent wicker lounge. “Get you some ginger ale or something. Heavens, girly, the appetite on you!”

“Are you gonna eat with us, daddy?” Ella spoke up timidly as she took her own seat, the rather novel concept of her daddy at morning breakfast and the pride she took in her own cooking warring to make his verdict overly meaningful to her.

Elvis stared for a moment at the heaping piles of fluffy goodness with its melting pad of butter and sparkling syrup trickling to the plate as Jack voiced the very worry he had rattling in his head:

“That’s a lotta carbs.”

The whole table’s racket of pancake stabbing screeched to a halt and Elaine fumbled the glass bottle of ginger ale she had retrieved from the fridge to the very ground in her shock. “Jack!” she chatsized with more vehemence than the little stinker had ever elicited from her in his life, “Why on earth would you say a thing like that?”

Jack shrugged, although the combined weight of his family’s horror and Elaine’s blazing eyes made him timid, “It's just what the Colonel said. Last night. To daddy.”

“And why would you ever wanna sound like that good for nothin’ scallywag?” Elaine cried, “We appreciate a good appetite in this house, plenty of folks don’t have what we’ve got and we’re not about to thank the good Lord for his generosity to us by listenin’ to the worn out gimmicks of a corpulent glutton. Carbs! Maybe he should count some carbs-“

“Laney, laney.” Elvis moderated her with a shushing wave of his hand and she stilled, pinching the bridge of her nose in that way Jesse had learned from her and clipping over to Daisy with grief stricken eyes she hid behind her ire.

“Sorry.” Jack croaked while giving his mother the stink eye even as Jesse in turn glared at him, “I said I was sorry?”

“There’s nothin’ to be sorry about Jack.” Elvis insisted, eyeing his strangely cold wife as she tended to Daisy and got her a preemptive barf pan. “You were just statin’ nutritional facts and if you’re gonna be a scientist one day, your interest in ‘em will serve ya well. Now Ella, dish me up some a’those sticky carbs, won’t ya?”

Ella beamed and quickly stacked up a steaming pile on her daddy’s plate, presenting a blushing cheek for his kiss just as Daisy lost her battle with the bellyache and puked into the bowl Elaine held for her.

“Well that’s an appetizing sound.” Jesse pushed his plate away with a joking grimace and he and Elvis shared a silly moment that almost made Jesse forget about the shower and his subsequent vow never to look his daddy in the eye again.

“Poor Mae, Mae,” Elvis sighed, stabbing his pancake and making a show of chewing it obnoxiously for Ella’s benefit.

Elaine couldn’t help but smirk, even as she dabbed at Daisy’s mouth with a cloth, amused that her man was moaning louder over pancakes than he did from her attentions in the shower.

“So,” he spoke up as he scarfed them down, “what’s this about swimmin’? Hmm? For the record I never promised anythin’ of the kind but, loathe as I am to award bad behavior,” and here he gave Jack a pointed look over his poised fork, “since we’re all together, why not?”

“Really? Really?” Rosalee screamed so loud in his ear he shook his head just to get the ringing out.

“Oh daddy, it’s gonna be so fun! You there! Oh yes yes yes yes!” Ella was spinning in circles, having gotten out of her chair at some point to celebrate.

“Mhmm,” he hushed them and went on, pushing his plate away, “is it swimmin’ you’ve really got your hearts set on?”

“Well, no- we just wanna be with you.” Rosalee admitted.

“What? No! We wanna go swimmin’, just us and mama-“

“Jack, please hush up.” Jesse begged.

“See I was thinkin’,” Elvis rose above his six year old’s sharp remarks, “we could certainly go swimmin’ but then again, ya can go swimmin’ most anytime, near anywhere. But ya know what ya can’t do?”

“What, daddy?” a hushed chorus of anticipation went up from his little audience, even Daisy showed interest as Elaine doted on her.

“How would you Tiddlywinks like to fly ‘round in a helicopter?” He asked with a brilliant grin.

“No way!” Jesse nearley fell out of his seat and his eyes filled with excitement.

“Yes way, perks of the job, boyo.” Elvis sat smug at the head of his table as his children gushed around him in a frenzy of anticipation, Elaine watched their adoration with a pleased smile, praying only that he wasn’t going to be the lone pilot. “Now who’s glad daddy works for that ‘corpulent scalliwag’, huh?” he goaded and Elaine’s smile turned brittle as the kids laughed and cheered.

Elvis eyes met hers above the den of kids clearing plates and his sober, cobalt stare put her right back in her place, a place that more and more had little or nothing to do with his creative processes and business deals - a far cry from the production and artistry that first brought them to together. She bit her lip and walked the vomit pan back to the sink, receiving a wide berth from the little revelers as she did. “Alright well, help your mama with this mess and get yourselves sorted.” he clapped, “We’ll leave, soon as we’re ready. Gotta go brush my teeth.” he rose from the table, his hasty exit unnoticed by any save Elaine who postured herself to be in his path as he turned to go into the master bedroom,

“E,” she murmured softly as he brushed past and he didn’t stop, but she knew he was listening by the tilt of his head as he went “while you’re at it, be sure you don’t accidentally brush your tonsils again, silly man.”

This loaded tease met with a titter of laughs by the couple clueless kids who overheard it and this time it was Elvis’ face that grew brittle, his step halted and his lip was close to sneering as he lowly rejoined,

“If you know ‘nother silly man who can get you a helicopter ride, an all expenses paid for vacation to Hawaii and satisfy your particular tastes, then be my guest Elaine, you tell him how to brush his teeth.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo

Taglist:

@eliseinmemphis

@prompted-wordsmith

@ab4eva

@foreverdolly

@powerofelvis

@butlersxbirdy

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

@arianatheangelgirl

@steph-speaks

@burningloverdoll

@angelface-555

@lookingforrainbows

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@i-r-i-n-a-a

@obsessedvibee

@peskybedtime

@goth-cowgirl-03

@stephthestallion

@fav-fanficssss

@loving-elvis

@honeyorangess

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goldendiie · 2 years

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idk anyways here’s some shit i found on google images

#from the drafts #i was INSANELY bored last night #sargemore #cars sarge #cars fillmore #the one on the left feels extremely important

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lunarbuck · 1 year

Text

Baby, It's Cold Outside (Stuckyxf!reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race)

WC: 4.3k

Summary: You’ve been friends with Steve and Bucky for quite some time, but when you accept to spend the holidays with them in a cabin, friendship evolves into something more.

Warnings: friends to lovers <3, stucky, fluff, smut (p in v, p in a?), anal, oral (m and f receiving), threesome - F/M/M, polyamory, pet names [doll, baby, princess], unprotected sex

A/N: not only is this my first time writing a Steve fic, it’s also my first time writing for a threesome… please let me know how I did/if this is something you’d like to see more of :) please also let me know if I did anything wrong!!! I want to learn <3 beta’d by the literal best, @lfnr-blog-blog-blog 💕

main masterlist | bucky one shot masterlist | my ao3

The holidays are always a tricky time of year. No one has a perfect family, and even if that problem-free family exists, you bet even they have some trouble around the holidays. You know from experience that the holiday season brings out the worst in people, so when Bucky and Steve offered to have a holiday celebration with just the three of you, you couldn’t pass it up.

You’d gone just a little overboard with their presents, but how could you not? The two of them treat you better than anyone else in your life, and you just want to show them you’re thankful.

So now, as you sit in the backseat of the car, watching the world fly by, you’re thankful that the world brought the three of you together.

You’d been working at the Tower for some time before you ever crossed paths with Captain America and his friend, the Winter Soldier. Honestly, working in legal, it was bound to happen. It was an instant connection, and you’ve been friends ever since. Inseparable, practically attached at the hip.

Steve drives carefully as he eases off the highway and onto a little side road, taking the three of you further away from civilization and closer to the cozy little cabin you’ll be staying in for the next few days.

It’s easy to lose yourself as you watch Steve drive. The way his strong hands grip the steering wheel, the way his blue eyes reflect the bright winter sky. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never thought of him that way. Who hasn’t? He’s America’s golden boy, the man of your dreams.

And Bucky… oh Bucky, your thoughts about him are simply unholy. The quiet, brooding partner to America’s sweetheart. As you’ve gotten to know Bucky, you’ve come to understand that there’s more to him than meets the eye, but you love the darkness that settles just below the surface.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Bucky turns and glances back at you from the passenger seat. “How you doin’ back there, doll?” He asks, a soft smile on his lips.

“Oh, I’m fine, Sarge,” you reply, smiling back. He gives you a wink before turning back in his seat.

You’re not sure how you’ll survive three days in a cabin with the two of them; there are so many variables… so many different ways this could send you up shit’s creek without a paddle.

You’re not going to lie; the past two days have been… tough, to say the least. There have been so many innocent touches and sweet smiles that you can’t tell what’s real and what’s your fantasy anymore.

Tonight is the official gift exchange. You’re excited for the boys to open your gifts; you tried so hard to find the perfect items. After changing into a pair of flannel PJ pants, you make your way out into the cabin’s main room.

You each have your own rooms, but each night you’ve been desperate to sneak into Steve or Bucky’s room and just see what happens. You haven’t had enough courage to do it, and part of you had hoped that one of them would do the sneaking.

You push the thoughts from your mind as the three of you gather in front of the roaring fireplace. There’s a sizable pile of gifts scattered around, more than you’d expect for a group of three, but you certainly don’t mind.

Steve and Bucky both wear similar attire to you, tight short-sleeved t-shirts, Steve in white and Bucky in black, as well as matching flannel pants.

The boys hand out the gifts, making three separate piles for each person. Butterflies flit in your belly as you run your eyes over their straining muscles. Their shirts are too small, and you can practically see everything. But you’re not complaining. No, not one bit.

“Okay, who’s starting?” Steve asks, sitting back on his heels.

“Youngest to oldest,” Bucky suggests, grinning. Steve rolls his eyes but nods, looking to you to pick your first gift.

Torn wrapping paper litters the floor, and Steve waves around the garbage bag again in an attempt to get you and Bucky to clean up after yourselves. The two of you just laugh and crumple up the paper into little balls, chucking them at Steve.

“You keep that up, and I’ll take away the rest of the presents,” Steve scolds, though his smile is big and bright, so you know he’s not upset.

There’s only one gift left for each of you, so once the little paper fight has ended and you all settle down, you begin to peel the paper off your gift.

Inside is a thin black box that you know for sure contains jewelry. Your heart thuds in your chest as you pop the box open. Inside is a simple silver necklace with a beautiful blue topaz stone shaped like a teardrop hanging from the chain. Even though Steve and Bucky have different shades of blue in their eyes, somehow, this stone perfectly encapsulates both.

Tears well in your eyes as Steve and Bucky both move to sit beside you. Bucky sweeps your hair to the side, freeing your neck for Steve to place the necklace.

“What’re you crying for?” Steve asks, brushing a stray tear away from your cheek. You sniffle a little and laugh, wiping your face.

“It’s just the perfect gift,” you reply, looking between Bucky and Steve. The way they look at you is heated, possessive, almost, but you shake your head a little and tell yourself you imagine it.

Bucky lets his fingers linger on your skin for just longer than he should before the two of them return to their seats on the floor.

Steve opens his gift next; it’s from you. He tears open the present like a little kid, grinning from ear to ear. Inside, he finds a new set of paints that were a bitch to find. He’d been talking about trying out a new style, and this one brand of paints would be perfect, so of course, you had to find him.

He gapes at the paints for a moment before wrapping you in a giant hug. “You’re the best,” he whispers into your shoulder before releasing you.

By the time you recover from the embrace, Bucky is already opening his last gift, also from you. It’s a first-edition print of The Hobbit. The way Bucky looks from you to the book speaks volumes, and you’re about to tear up again.

Tonight went so much better than you thought it would. You’re so happy to be here, with them, in this cabin, on a perfect winter night. The snow has been coming in pretty steadily, but you don’t care one bit.

The three of you clean up, casually talking about work and other things happening in your lives, and once the main room is tidied, you realize how late it is.

It’s almost midnight, and Steve never shuts up about his bedtime. Bucky gives him shit for it, teasing him for needing the beauty sleep, but a good sleep routine is necessary for your line of work, so you don’t mind.

But you don’t want tonight to end. Tomorrow, you’ll have to pack up and return to the real world.

Fuck that. Fuck the real world.

“You headin’ to bed?” Bucky asks Steve as the two of them toss the trash bags by the back door. Instead of responding, Steve just stares at you, lips slightly parted. You cock an eyebrow at him, confused.

“It’s way past your bedtime, old man,” you tease, hoping to clear the air of the odd tension that’s fallen over the three of you.

“Why don’t we watch a movie?” Steve suggests, leaning against the wall. “My room has the biggest TV.” Bucky smiles, and you nod along. A movie sounds nice.

Never mind, a movie is torture. Bucky and Steve lay on either side of you, and you’re practically frozen where you sit. If you move even an inch, you’ll be pressed up against a muscular chest. As much as you’d like to be pressed against one of them, you’re not sure how they’d feel about it. Sure, it was Steve’s idea to watch the movie in his room, but that doesn’t mean he was consenting to you being all over him.

Bucky’s vibranium fingers trace little patterns on your arms, sending shivers through you, but you try to pretend like you don’t notice. You’re worried that if you acknowledge it, he’ll stop.

The credits roll on the cheesy holiday movie Steve had picked, and you slowly push yourself upright. You huff a bit of a breath, and both men look at you curiously.

“Well, it’s late,” you say, shifting yourself down the bed to avoid crawling over Steve or Bucky. “I should probably head to bed.” You nearly run into the dresser, feeling around for your slippers.

“Awe, come on,” Bucky practically whines from the bed. “The night is still young.” Even though you can’t see him in the dark, you know he’s wiggling his eyebrows in a way that makes your heart squeeze.

“I– I really can’t stay,” you say, fumbling over the words as you make your way toward the door. There’s movement behind you, sheets rustling, then suddenly, a presence right behind you. If you took a big breath, you’d be pressed against him.

“But baby, it’s cold outside,” Bucky tells you, placing his hands on your hips. His warmth envelops you from behind, begging you to sink into his embrace. You shiver.

“Tonight was,” your voice falters as you search for the words. “Amazing, but really, I should head to my room.”

“Baby,” Steve whispers, suddenly stepping in front of you, blocking your access to the door. “It’s cold outside.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the way he’s looking at you. You could drown in it. The heat of his gaze sends fire sweeping through you; it settles in your belly and makes you ache.

Bucky gently tugs you back into his chest, pressing you against him. Steve closes the distance, and you’re surrounded by them.

“You’re like ice, princess,” Bucky mumbles into your ear, nudging your neck with his nose. “Let us warm you up.”

Steve’s hands cup your jaw on either side, tilting your head up. His bright blue eyes shine despite the lack of light. “Is this okay for you?” He asks sweetly, thumbs brushing over the apples of your cheeks.

“Yes,” you breathe, a weight seeming to lift from your shoulders. Steve leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, sending electricity shooting down your spine. Steve kisses you like he’s tasting you, like you’re a porcelain doll he doesn’t want to damage.

Bucky litters kisses along your neck, sucking and nipping at all the sensitive spots. He’s leaving marks, but you don’t mind. Your right hand reaches out for Steve while your left feels back for Bucky. Both men react to your touch, pressing even closer to you.

“You know how long we’ve wanted this?” Bucky whispers into your ear. Steve keeps kissing you, swallowing the little moan you release. “The day we saw you, we knew.”

Steve releases you from the kiss and uses his grip on your head to turn you toward Bucky. His eyes are darker than Steves’s, not only in color but in intention. It makes your legs feel like jelly.

“I want you too,” you reply, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. Bucky grins and leans down, capturing you in a heated kiss. Steve’s hands drift down your neck, feeling the little marks Bucky left before reaching the neckline of your shirt.

You pull away from Bucky only long enough to tug your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the dark room. Steve sucks in a breath at the sight of you in your bra, and you practically glow at his reaction.

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve mumbles, leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone, down your sternum, and between the valley of your breasts. He kneels in front of you as his fingers find the clasp of your bra at your back. He undoes it and carefully slides the garment off you, exposing you to his gaze.

“Stevie’s been craving you,” Bucky muses at your ear, hands sliding beneath your arms to grasp your tits. His vibranium fingers are cold in contrast to his flesh hand, and you moan at the feeling. “He’s so eager to please you.” His fingers tweak your nipples before heading south. His left hand finds Steve’s head, spearing his fingers through the blond’s hair. “Why don’t you tell our girl what you told me before this trip,” Bucky says to Steve. Your blood rushes in your ears. How is this real?

Steve gazes up at you with stars in his eyes. “I want to taste you,” the man practically moans. “I need it.” Bucky makes a sound, and Steve’s eyes shift to him. That must not’ve been the answer Bucky was looking for.

“Come on, Stevie, tell her exactly what you said.” You reach out and run your fingers along Steve’s jaw, silently telling him that you won’t judge him.

“I need you like I need to breathe, I need to feel you, need to taste you. I want to taste you on Bucky’s cock. I want to taste myself in your pussy.” You were already wet before, but now you’re soaked. The needy tone of Steve’s voice, the possessive grip Bucky has on both of you, it’s almost too much. It’s not quite enough.

Steve brings his lips to your breasts, swirling his tongue around one of your nipples while his fingers play with the other. You lean back into Bucky’s muscular body, and he holds you upright, letting his hands roam your body.

You’ve never been with two men, but the thought had undoubtedly crossed your mind when fantasizing about these two.

“You gonna let him taste you?” Bucky asks, teasing the waistband of your pants, slowly dipping his fingers beneath the elastic. “You gonna give Stevie what he needs?”

All you can do is nod and let Bucky and Steve tug your pants down. They help you step out of the pooling fabric before Steve is pressing his lips against your panties, breathing you in.

His fingers grip your hips and ass, digging into your flesh and muscles. He eats you out over your panties, driving you wild with the need to feel him directly.

“Please, please,” you beg, arching your back to get your point across. Bucky chuckles and reaches down to help Steve pull your panties off. You catch the way Steve balls them up and tucks them into Bucky’s pocket, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Steve dives back in without another word, lapping up your arousal eagerly. He works your clit in perfect circles bringing you right to the edge. You’re so worked up that when Bucky bites your shoulder, it sends you spiraling. Your legs buckle beneath you, but they’re both there to catch you as you come down from the high.

“That was perfect, princess,” Bucky praises, kissing you sweetly. You smile into the kiss, feeling him lift you up and place you on the bed.

“Your turn,” you say, reaching out for both men. Bucky groans at your suggestion, palming his erection. He directs Steve to sit on the bed and gets everyone into position. You love how he commands the room; he’s in his element.

You slip off the bed and kneel between Steve’s legs while Bucky kneels on the bed, hips at Steve’s head. What you’d give to be a fly on the wall watching this…

The men both remove their pants and boxers, and you shamelessly ogle them. They’re both built like gods, sculpted from marble and fucking magic. Their cocks are just like the rest of them, and it dawns on you that you have no idea how they’ll fit.

Even so, you reach out and wrap your fingers around Steve’s hard length, bringing his attention down to you. As you begin to circle your tongue around his tip, he tangles his fingers in your hair. He doesn’t push you, just moves with you. Bucky then guides his own cock to Steve’s mouth, and you notice that the more eagerly you please Steve, the harder he works Bucky.

You grin at the power you hold over both of them and work your mouth down Steve’s cock. You take him into your throat until you’re sputtering, and Steve moans around Bucky.

The way Bucky guides Steve’s head has you moaning as you try to replicate the movement. Steve strains around Bucky’s cock but takes him so well. Bucky praises both of you, grunting about how good the two of you are, how perfect you are.

A moment later, Steve pulls you off his dick and tugs you onto the bed. Bucky is repositioning himself as well, and butterflies flit in your tummy.

“We don’t have to do anything else tonight,” Steve tells you, running his fingers down your back. “I don’t wanna push you or anything.” Bucky nods in agreement, vibranium hand cupping the back of your neck.

“This is all pretty new to you; we won’t be upset if you want to take things slower,” he adds.

“What if I don’t wanna go slow,” you reply, sucking in a heaving breath. You want them so bad you’re practically vibrating with need. “What if I need to feel you?”

Steve whimpers at your side, and Bucky moans.

“Fuck, princess, that’s music to my fuckin’ ears.” Bucky kisses you, pressing you down into the mattress. He hovers over you, caging you in. His right hand reaches between your legs and runs along your sensitive flesh. Steve does the same from the other side, two hands working you in tandem.

Their fingers open you up, stretching you in a way you’ve never experienced before. They work without needing to speak, a singular goal in mind.

“You’re doing so good,” Steve praises, running his free hand along Bucky’s back. “So good for us.”

Once Steve and Bucky are satisfied with their handiwork, Steve guides Bucky’s cock to your entrance. “You ready, baby?” Bucky asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please fuck me, Bucky,” you plead as he presses into you. Even though they prepped you, Bucky is still big, and you’ve never taken anything quite so large before. It feels so good as he thrusts deep and hard inside of you.

Your eyes roll back into your head while your hand seeks out Steve, needing the connection. Finding his cock, you wrap your fingers around him and pump at the same speed as Bucky. Steve hisses in a breath at the feeling and bucks into your hand.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, princess,” Bucky moans into your ear, hiking one of your legs onto his shoulder. “So tight for me.” Your mouth falls open, your lips forming an ‘O’ as the band in your belly tightens.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, getting closer and closer to snapping.

“That’s right, baby,” Bucky urges. “Come all over my cock. That’s it; you’ve got it.” You burst at the sound of his words, coating his cock with your orgasm. He keeps fucking you, making you ride the wave for what feels like an eternity.

He pulls out once you’ve caught your breath and tugs Steve down. Steve eagerly takes Bucky into his mouth and moans at the taste. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of Steve sucking the cock that had just been buried inside you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“You like what you see, princess?” Bucky asks, one of his fingers drifting to your clit, circling it slowly. “He can’t get enough.”

Bucky guides Steve off his dick, and the two men turn to face you.

“I want both of you,” you whisper, barely able to muster up the courage to admit it. Bucky cocks a brow at you before turning to Steve.

“You hear that, Stevie?” Steve nods, seemingly in a trance. “She wants both of us.” You watch in amazement as Bucky positions the three of you in the way he wants, quickly figuring out where everyone needs to be to make your fantasy come to life.

Bucky then steps away, digs through the bedside table, finds what he needs, then returns. “Okay, Stevie, lay back and let our princess ride you.” Steve does what Bucky asks and helps you straddle his strong hips. You guide his cock to your entrance and sink down on him, watching his face contort as you squeeze his length. He fills you perfectly, hitting spots inside you that make you see stars.

From behind you, you feel Bucky’s fingers, slick from what must be lube, slide against your ass. You shiver at the feeling but welcome it, angling your hips so he has better access.

“You feel so perfect squeezin’ me,” Steve moans from below you, hands reaching out to grope your tits.

“Isn’t she tight, Stevie?” Bucky asks, pressing a finger into your ass. You hold your breath at the feeling, but Steve just whispers calming words to you. You relax into them as Bucky slowly moves his finger.

One finger becomes two, and you ride Steve a bit harder as you warm up to the feeling. He grips your hips and guides you on his dick, working the pleasure from you.

Bucky adds a third finger, and you feel like you’re going to explode, but a good explosion. You’ve never felt so full, and you can’t imagine how amazing it’ll feel when it’s his cock and not just his fingers.

“Please, Bucky, please,” you beg, leaning back against his chest. He kisses your neck and smiles at your neediness.

“You ready for me, princess?” he teases, thrusting his fingers at a quicker pace.

“Fuck yes, Bucky, I need you so bad.” Bucky pulls you into a bruising kiss as he removes his fingers and replaces them with the tip of his cock.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. For us. Be a good girl and let me in.” Bucky keeps kissing you as he presses his cock further and further inside of you. Steve helps you relax, but you can tell it’s difficult for him. His strokes are getting messy as you get tighter around him.

Only a thin wall separates Bucky and Steve’s cocks, and that just turns them on even more. It turns you on even more.

They pump into you simultaneously, finding the perfect rhythm that makes your heart stutter. You’re at mercy to them, putty in their hands. Bucky and Steve worship you; they chant your name like a prayer.

All you can do is moan and beg, your brain becoming jelly the harder they fuck you. With their supersoldier serum, they last so much longer than other men. They bring you to orgasm after orgasm, pleasing you seems to be their only goal.

“I’m gonna come,” Steve whimpers from below you, fingers digging into your hips with bruising force. “Please, I’m gonna come.” Bucky leans over your shoulder, pumping into your ass with deeper strokes than ever.

“Give her your cum, Stevie; she wants it so bad. Right, princess?” Bucky’s vibranium fingers wrap around your neck, and you come again just from that.

“Oh my god, Steve, please give it to me. Please come inside me,” you moan, gripping Bucky’s arm.

Steve comes on a long, drawn-out moan, sending Bucky over the edge right after. He thrusts into you a few more times before he becomes too sensitive, then they’re both pulling out.

The three of you fall into a heap on the bed, panting and sweating. Bucky kisses you deeply before shifting to give Steve the same treatment. Steve carefully slides off the bed and grabs a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean up with.

He takes care of you sweetly, ensuring not to irritate your sensitive skin. You clean him up, and together you care for Bucky.

Once you dispose of the washcloth, Bucky and Steve tug you down into bed between them. Your limbs tangle with theirs, and you melt into their embrace.

“You were so perfect, baby,” Bucky whispers against your head, thumb rubbing circles into your arm. “You are so perfect.” Your heart tugs in your chest.

“I hope you know,” Steve interjects, clearing his throat. “We both have feelings for you, more than just for the physical stuff. If you feel the same way, we wanna make this work out in the real world. The three of us.” Your breath catches, and you feel like you’re dreaming. No way is he saying this.

“Really?” you ask, turning to see Bucky’s reaction.

“Really, princess. You’ve been ours since the day we saw you. We’ve just been waiting for you to realize it. We’ll take it slow, it’s not gonna be as easy as a ‘traditional’ relationship, but we’ll make it work. We want it to work for you.” Tears brim in your eyes and Steve kisses your cheek.

“Yes, yes, of course, I want this,” you reply, holding their hands. “Who gives a shit about easy? Nothing is ever easy. As long as we’re in it together, that’s all I care about.”

Bucky’s eyes crinkle in the corners as he kisses you. When he breaks the kiss, he turns you to Steve, who presses his lips to you sweetly. It all feels so natural, so easy.

Even though the winter wind whips at the windows, you’re comfy and warm in the embrace of your two supersoldiers. Nothing could be better than this right here.

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General Tags: @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @emi11ie @paulasocean @silverfire475 @lovingchoices14

Everything Bucky Tags: @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3 @meetmeatyourworst @harrysthiccthighss @goldylions @late-to-the-party-81 @luxeavenger @cloudyfeel @searchf0rtheskyline @keliiii @urmom4130

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you for some reason :/

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