#i have watched the diner scene Too Many Times

[picklesinabottle]

the writers said "here is a heterosexual explanation" and jake abel said "no thank you" and proceeded to be unhinged about it for years

#im looking at the words and im looking at the way they were delivered and its just so gay #jabel i am throwing rocks at your window #like yeah theoretically it could be straight but how could you get that #foaming at the mouth #i have watched the diner scene Too Many Times #its keeping me awake at night and unable to do anything during the day #midam #spn #supernatural #adam milligan #jake abel #michael spn

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Coveted.

Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader (+Yandere!Gojo) [JJK].

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Set Two or Three Years Post KFC Break-Up, Intimidation, Prolonged Stalking, Future Dub/Con, Mentions of Non/Con, and Unbalanced Power Dynamics.

[Part Two]

“You’re Satoru’s date, right?”

The voice was masculine, deep and as rough as it could be without crossing the line into gravelly. You stiffened, squaring your shoulders and burrowing your nails into your palm as your eyes darted across the table – where a man with dark hair and an off-putting smile was currently sliding into the unoccupied side of your booth. He reached out, clearly planning to shake your hand, but when you failed to move, he only let out an airy chuckle, propping his chin on his fist as he went on. “I’m a friend of his – Geto Suguru. You can call me Suguru-chan, though. Has he already told you about me?”

He was dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed – his attire limited to a form-fitting black shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants in the same color, his hair pulled into a loose bun. His tone was friendly, light. You returned it with a dead-pan stare, hoping it conveyed the weight of your exhaustion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is that what he told you to say?” Another laugh, somehow more blood-chilling than the first. Your attention shifted outward, to the late-night diner where Gojo had asked you to meet him. There were only a few other customers, the skeleton of a proper staff, but single other person would’ve been one too many. You didn’t need to make a scene, not again, not after last time. “That sounds like him. He’s always been a stingy bastard.”

With a pressed frown, you pushed yourself to your feet, but Geto’s grin only broadened. He snapped his fingers and as if it’d only been waiting for a queue, a shape manifested at the end of your bench. You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly at it, but you saw enough out of the corner of your eye; a bulbous torso, shrunken arms, too many eyes to resemble any living thing. Instantly, what little courage you still had was replaced with a knot of dread, a bolt of pure anxiety. You half-expected it to lunge, to bite, to attack, but it didn’t move, only standing guard at the foot of your table.

It didn’t move, but it didn’t have to. In a moment, you’d fallen back into your seat and shoved yourself against the wall, fighting not to shake. It was a sight Geto seemed to take a particular joy in, letting his head lull to the side as he watched you curl into yourself. “You can see them. I was starting to think I had the wrong person.” A pause, a glance towards his summoned monster before his narrowed gaze skirted back to you. “Don’t be shy, now. How much did he tell you?”

It took you a moment to find your tongue, another to swallow back the tremor in your voice. "He said he could protect me.” It was harder to admit than you’d expected – not so much that you needed protection, but that there was something you needed protection from. You’d spent so long writing off your monsters as hallucinations that it was still a struggle to act like they were anything more. But, for as unwilling as you were to confront your little monsters, the resounding ache in your right leg where that thing had dug its claws into you was impossible to ignore. “He… he didn’t mention anyone else, but we’ve only spoken once. He was supposed to explain—” You gestured to the monster. “—all of this today.”

A slight hum, a look of genuine surprise. “So, he’s got some self-restraint after all! I thought he would’ve cracked months ago, considering how long he’s been following you around like a lost puppy.” He must’ve seen your expression fall, your posture slacken, because he didn’t wait for a response before going on. “I mean, you must’ve known that, at least. Did you think he’d play knight-in-shining-armor for just anyone?”

“I…” You trailed off quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t care. As long as he can protect me, I don’t care why he’s doing it.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to say. You wouldn’t want to make Satoru feel so replaceable, now, would you?”  

At that, you met his stare. “What do you want?”

His eyes skirted towards the monster, who took an obedient step back. For a second, you considered running, trying to slip away before the man in front of you or your newly-realized stalker could make you regret ever showing up at all, but Geto was quick to cut off your escape route, filling the empty space beside you before you could so much as pick which door you would barrel through on the way out. “Well, now that we’re on the same page,” Unlike his monster, he didn’t give you the option of leaving him in your peripheral; settling close enough for his leg to press into yours. At this proximity, you could pick up the smoke on his breath, the scent of stale gore clinging to him like a second skin. As if he’d just stepped out of a blood bath. “I’d like to make you an alternative offer.”

“You’d protect me?”

“Oh, I’d do more than just that.” His hand fell to your thigh. “I’d have everything you’ve ever been afraid of bowing to you by the end of the night.”

You swallowed dryly. “You didn’t answer my first question. What do you get out of helping me?”

His answer was nonverbal, but clear enough. With that same idle grin, he nodded toward the streaked window, to the building across the street. Your heart fell into your stomach. It was one of those sleazy, by-the-hour hotels – the sign missing more than a few letters and the parking lot as empty as the diner. It was the kind of place that you only went to for one thing, and you had a feeling Geto hadn’t found some miraculous second reason to want to be alone with you in one of those bug-infested rooms.

You weren’t sure why you said it. Maybe to buy yourself time. Maybe because you couldn’t stand the idea of being left in silence as what was left of your rational mind screamed at you to get out of there. “I don’t have any money.”

“It’ll be my treat.”

“What happens I refuse?”

“I kill everyone here,” His nails bit into exposed skin. “And then fuck you on this table while their bodies attract flies.”

You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so tired.

You might’ve done anything, if you could bring yourself to care about anything but keeping those awful creatures at a distance.

Stiffly, with your eyes shut and your teeth grit, you forced yourself to nod. Geto rewarded you with an impossibly wide grin, a breath of a laugh. “Smart little thing.”

This time, he didn’t pretend it was an option; reaching out, taking your trembling hand in his own, and squeezing so softly, you could almost convince yourself he was being gentle.

“It’s only a shame Satoru isn’t here to join us.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #yandere jjk #yandere geto #yandere geto suguru #geto x reader #gojo x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yanderecore #yancore

[ghostlyfleur]

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

eddie munson x shy!oc

contents: anxiety, curse words, friends to lovers. lovesick!eddie, inexperienced!reader, self-consciousness, first kiss, sharing clothes. eddie’s jacket is oversized on reader. can be read as x reader, but a bit oc too? carnival date.

word count: ~1.5k

eddie munson is in love.

she is entirely inexperienced in anything romantic or sexual; no first kiss, never even got close to it. extremely shy and anxious, has a seemingly innocent aura, is a bit out of sorts, ditzy, with a sort of luna lovegood vibe. doesn’t argue with people, always tears up if confronted about anything, doesn’t have beef with anyone and is a lot more rational than emotional even though she tears up so easily. also doesn’t hold grudges or care what people think of her…

the thing is, she has been introverted her whole life, a very anxious person, and so doesn’t understand that eddie munson likes her because she needs to be told how people feel about her very explicitly otherwise her mind will convince her they hate her. anxiety is like that. and she’s the kind of person that has a hard time realizing that people can perceive their existence and have feelings for them, no matter what type of feelings, so even though eddie is not at all shy about flirting with her and giving her all of the attention in the world in his over-the-top, overdramatic way, he also knows that if anything other than the friendship he’s thankfully managed to build with her is going to happen, romantic-wise, that she has to be the one to initiate it— but she’s oblivious!

on the other hand though, she doesn’t even bother hiding her infatuation with eddie — it’s a lot more than infatuation by now. she’s always looking at him with stars in her eyes and laughs at his jokes and smiles that big, square, goofy smile whenever they lock eyes and constantly praises him because he deserves to feel as special as he is, right? and she goes into detailed talks about lord of the rings with him, likes many of the same bands he does or simply lets him play his favorites for her, and she truly loves to watch hellfire play dungeons & dragons.

her eds even made her a special edition pink hellfire shirt. ‘cause he’s a simp.

one day, as she’s out with chrissy and heather outside a diner, talking and laughing and catching up, eddie is close by somewhere with friends. his van is parked nearby.

it starts getting chilly, and eddie’s girl starts shivering, so she quickly excused herself away from the girls, “gimme a second!” and reaches through the open window of eddie’s van, making a mental note to grill him about it later — “‘cause it isn’t safe, eds!” — to grab his leather jacket thinking of how he has told her over and over that she can borrow it, that “what’s mine is yours, sweets. i don’t mind sharing if it’s with you”, so she figures it’s okay, right? and goes back to the girls who are fucking smirking like they see something she doesn’t.

it’s about fifteen minutes later, and eddie is walking towards the trio, simply because he misses his girl and wants a hug, when he sees it.

she’s wearing his jacket. his jacket.

in typical eddie fashion, he makes a scene— gasping dramatically, he clutches his chest over his heart and falls to his knees, because fuck what anyone around thinks. his precious girl is wearing his fucking jacket! and she looks like a fucking angel.

“eds, what are you doin’?”

“do you know how heavenly you look in my jacket? i just had to get on my knees to worship you.”

the boy shuffles closer to his sweet girl on his knees still while he talks and she’s flustered, okay? she’s shy and her face is on fire and she’s covering her cheeks and giggling. and because it’s eddie, her eddie, she’s not running away to have a panic attack. ‘cause it’s eddie and he’s being sweet, so she can’t focus on anyone else long enough to feel crippling anxiety or embarrassment. doesn’t even care that chrissy is cooing and heather is smirking.

“that jacket is yours now, you own it. you pretty much own me by now.” eddie says, on his knees, in front of her

“it’s okay that i took it right?” she makes sure even after his display of joy, ‘cause anxiety isn’t rational “you said i—”

her eddie knows her, though. he stands up, gets real fucking close to her, so close they’re almost touching, with this look of absolute adoration and “i’d give ya everything i have if i could, pretty.”

fast forward a few days later. chrissy kept yapping on and on to the oblivious girl about how “in love” eddie is, but it’s as though her brain won’t let her even entertain the idea.

that’s until she’s having a semi-regular quote unquote friend-date with eddie, something they’ve done quite a few times before, and this time they go to the fair. they’re doing everything couples might do, eddie is very aware of this, and he’s over the moon to just be enjoying quality time with his pretty girl until she spots a photobooth, “oh, eds! we have to!” and eddie’s desperately counting coins to pay. the pictures go a little something like this:

after coming up blank with pose ideas, they just look at each other and laugh, but at the sound of his free and bright laugh, she just stares at her boy like he’s a dream come true— first pic is taken, looking at eddie like he hung the moon while he’s mid-laugh.

eddie notices her staring and goes from loud laughs to breathless ones, a smile on his lips, and whispers a soft “what?”— second picture is taken as the girl quickly presses her lips to his, her very first kiss, and it’s caught on camera.

the third picture depicts eddie’s sweet girl nervously rambling “i was going to ask for permission first, i promise!” while eddie has a glassy, dreamy look on his face, slack jawed, looking at her lips.

and at the fourth snap? eddie presses forward to shut her up with another impossibly soft and tender kiss, both of their eyes are closed and his hand is holding her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek.

after they part from the second kiss, eddie acknowledges that it was her first kiss, a shy “was that okay?” to which his sweetheart just smiles really big and nods excitedly over and over with a breathless giggle. that was the perfect first and second kiss and she couldn’t ask for more.

they hold hands the rest of the night.

#fairy writes #eddie munson (harmo’s version) #flirty!eddie munson #adhd!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x shy!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #friends to lovers #mutual pining #dates with eddie munson #lovesick!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson thoughts #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things imagine #eddie x you #eddie x reader

[love-is-embarrassing]

Property of Jennifer ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Jennifer's Body Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Jennifer Check x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Jennifer fingers you under the table while you're on a date... with someone else.

CW: DubCon, Toxic!Jennifer, Jealous!Jennifer, hidden-public, exhibitionism?, fingering, mention of spanking, reader goes on a date with a guy (the scene still makes sense if you're not into guys though)

Adam was the worst kind of jock stereotype. A total idiot. Somewhat charming until anything didn’t go his way. A guy who made it his goal in life to sleep with as many women as possible and then slut-shamed the few he actually got under his belt.

He wasn’t your type in more ways then one, yet on a Friday night you could’ve spent doing anything else… you were sitting across from him at a shitty diner, helping him stumble through small talk.

You blamed Jennifer entirely.

If she hadn’t of fucked and ghosted you AGAIN, you wouldn’t of been so desperate to get her out of your system that you’d say yes to the first loser to ask you out.

Adam wasn’t your main concern at that moment though. Your main concern was the devil herself, striding into the diner you knew she hated in the shortest skirt she owned …and for the first time in a week she was looking right at you.

Your attention had been wavering all night but you must of been obvious that time because Adam checked over his shoulder, following your gaze  and catching sight of Jennifer a second before she arrived at your booth.

“Oh my god, hi!”

That valley-girl voice of hers made your heart flutter but you knew to raise your guard.

“Jennifer, hi… what are you doing here?”

She laughed, a plastic sound. “I could ask you the same thing.”

The thought of deflecting as skilfully as she had done was appealing, but instead you ripped the Band-Aid off. You were done caring about what she thought.

“I’m on a date actually.”

The strain in her smile wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t watching her reaction so carefully.

“Oh, where’s your date?” She looked around, eyes very obviously passing over the man in front of you.

Oof. You didn’t exactly like the guy but you felt a secondhand sting at that. Cringing, you shot Adam an apologetic look as he waved a hand to get her attention.

“Uhh that’d be me.” 

“Oh!” 

Despite her passive-aggressive tone, her big glossed smile softened the blow. It made it hard to be mad at her. At least it did until she turned her head away from him to mouth “yikes.”

Suddenly she sat down cramped against you, hand dropping to your thigh. “Well I’m just waiting on my own date. Mind if I sit with you guys for a few minutes?”

You didn’t know what made you tenser, wondering where the hell she was going with this or the hand caressing your thigh.

“Well, like I said we’re on a date. So actually-“

Said date cut you off as he leered, slack-jawed at Jennifer. “It’s fine. What’s a few minutes?“

You gritted your teeth, mind badgering you with images of all the other places you could’ve been that night. “Why do you even want to sit here?”

She groaned. “He said it’s fine. Take a chill pill.”

Jennifer’s words were accompanied by a squeeze to your thigh and you jumped. It didn’t hurt but you felt your skin buzz under her touch, heat spreading low in your stomach.

Jennifer’s attention seemed to go back to Adam but that didn’t stop her from keeping yours with her hand inching up your skirt.

“So, I didn’t catch your name.”

He frowned, a crack in his horny haze. “Are you serious? Adam… We sat together in chem?”

“Okay, geez, don’t go stalker-boy on me.”

Her tone was just light enough to let the comment slide, but you could almost physically feel the mood slowly sinking.

She turned to you, face too innocent to have her hand so close to your privates. “What about you, how’d you two meet? Was he hanging outside your house with binoculars and a stiffy?”

“We also met in chem.” He answered for you. His tone was dryer, welcome already wearing thin. 

Apparently Adam’s ego was the one thing stronger than his libido. 

Unlike yours. Jennifer’s wandering hand was dangerously close to making you forget that you were even mad at her.

“I’m sorry, was I asking you?” She leant into you, ‘whispering’ at a volume you were sure the next table over could hear. “Does he always talk over you like that?”

The question and the underlying insult went over your head. Feeling Jennifer’s breath on your neck clouded your brain and feeling the tip of her finger begin dragging up your slit through your panties short-circuited it.

Fortunately a waitress came over, putting a pause on the tension at the table. Unfortunately that was when Jennifer’s finger reached your clit.

Your eyelashes fluttered and you bit your lip to keep back a moan. This was way too risky. The waitress would move on from Adam to one of you any second.

“What are you doing?” You hissed against Jennifer’s ear.

Unfazed she whispered back. “You’re lucky I’m not bending you over my knee.”

Then she turned back, looking the picture of innocence when the waitress addressed her.

“Anything for you, Dear?”

The woman looked so demure and unassuming. You had no idea how Jennifer could look her in the eye while drawing circles on your clit.

“Actually she’s only staying a few-“ Adam started.

“I’ll take a coffee.” Jennifer interrupted, smiling brightly.

“It’s a little late. Do you want that decaf?”

“No. I’m not planning on doing much sleeping tonight.” The subtext in that sentence embarrassed you enough but then Jennifer turned to you. “You want anything else? My treat.”

That sent the waitresses gaze your way and your face burned. You really didn’t want a stranger looking at you right now.

“No thanks.”

You cursed your squeaky, cracking voice and averted your eyes as quickly as possible.

Even with your awkward position limiting her, it was like Jennifer’s touch electrified you. An overwhelming pleasure followed her fingertips and you could only swallow your reactions to it for so long.

As the waitress went on her way Jennifer tugged at your panties and mindlessly taking the cue you raised your hips just enough for her to pull them to your knees.

That was when Adam’s focus returned to the two of you and you startled, realising what the fuck you were doing.

He was totally gonna catch you!

But then Jennifer’s fingers pushed inside of you, curving and making you see stars, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You could only spread your legs wider and silently pray you didn’t look as wrecked as you felt.

“Okay, I’m sorry, how long were you planning on staying? Don’t you have a date coming?” Adam huffed.

“Yeah.” She looked slyly at you “any second now.”

You writhed in your seat. Embarrassment, guilt and so much lust created a boiling hot cocktail inside of you.

“Whatever.” He sighed, leaning back in his seat and staring at the ceiling.

Jennifer snuck her other hand under the table and you gasped loudly at sudden, rough friction against your clit. 

Sure enough that caught other patrons attention. As people glanced at you you didn’t know what you wanted more… to cum or for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

“Hey, you good?” Adam asked.

“Yeah… yeah, just um, water went down the wrong pipe.”

You hadn’t touched your glass since Jennifer showed up but you trusted he wouldn’t of payed enough attention to know that.

“You should be more careful.” Jennifer said, tone loaded in way that made you squirm.

It was really, really hard to be careful with the high she was working you into. It was too much, the way she massaged your g-spot while three flat fingers rubbed quickly over your pussy. 

Hellish heat overtook you as she brought you over the edge. It took everything in your power to keep your mouth shut, face pointing down to hide your shame.

You gripped the table like a lifeline as pulse after pulse of pleasure rocked your body. Her touch became almost overstimulating.

You felt Jennifer’s breath on your ear before you heard her silky, hushed voice “You’re mine. Got it? Don’t forget that again.”

Cool air hit your warm centre as she pulled out and you nodded eagerly. Thrumming with the aftershocks of orgasm you barely registered Adam’s voice.

“Hey what’s up with all the whispering? I swear, you’d think you were on a date with Jennifer.”

#jennifer check x reader #jennifer check smut #jennifer check #smut #jennifer's body #slashers #slashers smut #slashers x reader #wlw smut #notsfw

[pedroshotwifey]

To The Flame chapter nine

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark Javier Peña x Fem!reader

Chapter word count: 2.1k

Chapter tags/warnings: fluff, angst, manipulation, anxiety

Chapter summary: Making this move is going to be tougher than you thought...

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm super excited because after this, things are going to get real dark real quick. We can really see some of the first big bits of manipulation here. I already have so many deliciously dark scenes written, and I can't wait to share!

****

The next couple of days are chaotic, full of making arrangements for flights, organizing through all of your possessions, and figuring out what bills need to be discontinued. It’s a lot to handle, but Javi takes it in stride, making sure you don’t have too much to worry about. 

He handles most of the interactions and arrangements when he’s not working, leaving you to get the little things done. Even though you’re not tasked with much, it’s still extra stressful to deal with after just having moved a few weeks prior.

You barely have any time together since Javi’s running around trying to get everything done in time, so you savor the moments when your schedules actually align. It’s mostly at night, after he gets home, and the two of you will eat dinner together and then do whatever you have the energy for. 

Today’s the first day he’s been given off since he found out about the promotion, and if everything goes according to plan, he should be off until the move. The two of you have gotten everything you’d needed to do today knocked off the list, and decided that you deserve a bit to relax instead of more packing. 

You both sat and watched TV for the better half of the day, all the fans on and the windows open in an attempt to cool off. The house is fucking sweltering thanks to having to cancel the A/C. It’s one of the hottest days you’ve had all year, because that figures. 

Both you and Javi have peeled off your shirts, leaving you in your bra and shorts, and him in his usual jeans. Despite the lingering looks thrown each other’s way, you both know it’s too hot to engage in celebratory activities right now. 

Javi’s on the phone in the living room while you prep some sandwiches for lunch to use the rest of what you have in the fridge. It’s likely that the next few days will be filled with an ungodly amount of fast food and diners. 

You finish putting the sandwiches together and slip back into the living room with two plates, handing one to Javi as he hangs it back up on the reciever. 

“Here you go baby.” 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Javi smiles at you. 

You take a seat next to him on the couch and the two of you eat in silence, too tired to have much to say. You’re both off in your own worlds, you thinking about what you have left on your checklist; sort through clothes, pack pictures, get the dishes organized, call your sister. 

You stop on that one, resisting the urge to cringe. You haven’t called her since you moved, and she has no way of getting to you. You feel like a coward but you almost don’t want to face her. You’ve done nothing wrong, and yet you almost feel like you’d abandoned her and moved on. 

You know she wouldn’t think that, but it’s still a nagging concern in the back of your mind. What would you even say? Just tell her that you’re moving? You don’t know your address for Columbia yet, but the least you could do is let her know what’s going on. 

You finish your sandwich and sigh, making Javi glance your way. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, just tired,” you tell him after a second, deciding you don’t really want to explain the way your entire thought process just went. 

“I’m sorry, baby. We could take a nap if you want?” 

You smile at him. “ I Might have to take you up on that in a minute.” 

You gesture for his empty plate and he hands it to you, offering to do the dishes instead. You, of course, shoot him down. It doesn’t take you long, but you’re able to convince yourself to bite the bullet as you’re sticking the plates in the drying rack. 

You walk into the hall with the phone, drying your hands on your shorts as you go. Javi’s brows furrow as he watches you pick it up. 

“What are you doing?” 

You pause on dialing and look up at him to where he’s still sat on the couch. 

“I’m going to try to get a hold of my sister to tell her we’re moving.” 

Javi sits up a bit, suddenly more energetic than he has been all day. “You can do that later, can’t you? Come see me.” He flips his palm up and reaches for you the tiniest bit. You smile warmly at him. 

“Just give me one second, it’ll be quick,” you tell him. He frowns. 

“I’ll be quick too. Just a kiss?” He smiles hopefully up at you and you melt a bit before giving in. 

“Alright, just a kiss, no more, you bad man,” you laugh at him as his smile widens the closer you get. 

You lean down to meet his lips, and then you’re being pulled forward, giggling as you land in his lap. His mouth immediately finds yours as he pulls you into him, trapping your body against his. 

“Baby,” you laugh, trying to pull away. “I’ve got to call her!” 

Javi hums to signify that he heard you, but doesn’t let up from the sloppy kisses he’s planting on your neck and chest. You can’t help the small moan that slips as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot. 

“M, Javi, I’m being serious honey,” you try again. “I need to get in touch with her before they cut off our service.” You try to push yourself up, but his arms tangle more tightly around you. 

“Javi, quit,” you’re not joking around anymore. You’re a little concerned that the service is going to be cut off sometime today, since it was the day you were supposed to pay for it. You’ve already put off calling your sister for too long just out of nerves, and now you don’t want to miss your chance. 

You push against him, trying to pry his arms away, and this, combined with the seriousness ebbing into your tone, finally catches his attention. He looks up at you, a slight pout on his full lips. 

“I just need to let her know,” you say, waiting for him to loosen his grip, but he only sighs. 

“Honestly, I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” he admits, looking at you with genuine concern. 

You frown, a bit taken aback. 

“What do you mean?” 

He sighs again and looks down past you, almost like he’s getting ready to explain something to a small child. You don’t like the way it makes you feel like such. You’ve noticed recently that he has a tendency to make you feel like a kid, though you don’t think it’s intentional. The age gap definitely doesn’t help either. It makes you worry sometimes that you’re too immature for him, even though you know you’re not in the slightest. 

“I don’t think you should tell anyone you’re leaving,” he explains. 

“What? Why? She’s my sister, she deserves to know.” You have no idea where this is coming from. You’ve told him about your relationship with your sister, how it’s nothing like your connection with your parents. 

“Can you really trust her not to tell your parents though? Or them to not listen in? They don’t need to know your address.”

You shift uncomfortably in his lap, getting agitated with his protests. 

“Javi, I’ll literally be in a different country, I don’t think it matters even if they do.” 

His lips press into a thin line and breathes deeply through his nose. He unwraps his arms from around you to place his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he looks back into your eyes. 

“Honestly, sweetheart, it’s my job. My superiors want me to limit who knows our address, especially if it’s not someone we can completely trust.” 

Your stomach sinks at this. It makes sense, and you don’t want to do anything that could jeopardize his position, but leaving your sister with no explanation? She’s done nothing to deserve that. 

“But I–” 

He cuts you off with a pointed stare, his jaw ticking slightly. 

“I’m not asking for much here. It’s just one thing. You really can’t do that?” 

Your ears heat with shame as you swallow down bile rising into your mouth. You cast your gaze down so you don’t have to look at him with your embarrassment. You’re being selfish again, and you both know it.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t think,” you apologize quietly through the lump in your throat. 

Javi’s hand comes to your chin, raising your eyes back to his and seeing the sheen in them. He tuts sympathetically and cradles your head to his chest, petting your hair in a soothing motion. 

“I know it’s hard, honey. I’m sorry it has to be like this.” 

You nod into his shirt, a tear slipping down your cheek despite your efforts to keep them in. You feel extremely overwhelmed all of a sudden. 

He hushes you and lets you cry silently into his chest, whispering encouragement as he rocks you gently. 

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 

And you know you will be, it just doesn’t seem like it right now. 

*****

You have pretty much everything else packed within the next few days. It was honestly miserable having to put everything away after you’d just put it out, both in a physical and emotional sense. You don’t know how many times you had to remind yourself that you were doing this for Javi, that he deserved it. 

That fact definitely softened the blow, but not enough so that the sadness was completely snuffed. And now knowing that you’ll have to pretty much cut contact with your sister, who is also your only friend, it’s been a hard pill to swallow. It’s going to be hard leaving everything behind, but you’re willing to do it for your husband. Hell, he’s the one that got you here in the first place—it’s the least you could do. 

You leave for Columbia tomorrow, most of your stuff already in the process of being moved to the apartment Javi was assigned to. Well, most of the stuff you were able to move anyway. You’ve had to pick and choose what you want to bring with you, and what needs to stay at the old house for storage. The apartment isn’t very large, so there’s no way to take everything. Another thing that saddens you. 

You’d picked through all of your clothes and decided to put all your dresses into a box for storage and take everything else. There’s no sense in bringing them since you’ll likely not have a need for them. There’s only a couple that you stuffed in with everything else, just in case. You’re also bringing your books, some photos, and some sentimental things from your childhood. 

Javi’s bringing about the same. Just his everyday clothes, a suit or two, and some of his personal items. It all got loaded onto a little trailer, and Javi took it either to the old house or to the airport. 

You’re left now with just the bare minimum in the house. A few kitchen items, the couch that you won’t be able to move, and the mattress that you’ll be taking tomorrow. You’re both laying on that now, you with a book in your hand, and Javi reading through some paperwork. 

He received his assignments a couple of days ago, and he’s been looking through to memorize most of the important stuff. It sounds like there’s going to be a lot less office work in his future.

You put your book down, huffing a dramatic sigh. 

“Javi?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I’m bored.” 

He puts his paperwork down, rubs his eyes, and purses his lips at you. 

You smile at him, and he can’t resist the way his lips tug up as well. You crawl over to him, situating yourself into his side, and hand your book to him. 

“Read to me.” 

He sighs at you but takes the book. 

“I’m probably going to be slow.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“Alright, fine. You’re lucky you’re cute.” 

You smile wider, snuggling further into his body as he clears his throat and picks up from the page you left off on. Your eyes close as you listen to the sound of his gravelly voice somehow smoothing out as he gets into the groove of the love story. 

Before long, your eyes start to get heavy and you have to actively resist the urge to fall asleep. He’s not even a chapter in when you’re lulled to sleep by his voice and the ceiling fan running in the background.

**** Hope you enjoyed this chapter! It wasn't my favorite but some of these next ones are, so stay tuned 😈

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @callachloe @missladym1981 @sofiparallel @koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi @justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #angst #fluff #javier pena x you #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena smut #narcos fanfiction #javier pena angst #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fandom

[hetalimagines]

General headcanons for Alfred as a boyfriend (SFW)

Here's my first actual post on this blog, hehe... I can't find the ask but someone requested some Alfred headcanons, so here are my rambles about what I think he's like as a boyfriend!

He’s honestly not the most traditionally romantic person. Your relationship is more like friends who make out sometimes. But he does have his own little ways of showing you he loves you!

He’ll put together playlists of songs that remind him of you. They’re mostly loose connections, like maybe a song mentions your eye color, or the lyrics remind him of a date you went on together, or it just sounds romantic and makes him wanna kiss you. He likes to sit with you while you listen (to every single song), and he interrupts the songs a bit to explain why he chose them.

“This one had me thinking what if we were dancing in a ballroom together, and out of nowhere, bam! Zombies bust in. The door crashes to the ground! Our dance turns into one of those cool fighting scenes with the—oh, this part reminded me of the time I woke up early and you were about to fall off the bed. You had a cute bedhead.”

(You have no idea what the lyrics are at this point.)

Dates with him are pretty casual, more like “hanging out” than anything fancy. Maybe you stay at home and watch movies/play games, or you go out for dinner at a local diner, or you go do awful karaoke together, or you go and prank a friend together.

He’s happy as long as he’s with you. Bonus if there’s food and/or drink.

He occasionally takes you out to a more traditional restaurant and dresses for the occasion. They’re usually expensive, too. The food isn’t his preference (too complicated for his palate), but if it makes you happy, he’s all for dealing with it for just one night.

His primary love languages are acts of service and quality time. He’s always doing what he can to help you out (and feel proud of himself in the process). Whether he helps you run errands, runs a bath for you ahead of time, or fluffs your pillow before you get in bed, it’s all because he wants to make your life easier!

He gets a little jealous if you ever spend time with your shared friends without him, or if you spend more time with others than him.

He’s so excited if you take interest in any of his hobbies. Movies? He’ll ask if you want to co-write a script with him. (He’s very relaxed about what exactly ends up in the script.) Archaeology? He has so many random facts to dump on you, and he’ll be super impressed by any knowledge you have on it. Conspiracy theories? Time to watch a bunch of documentaries! He enjoys them despite their flaws, but lets you know exactly when something is false and what actually happened.

He tries to take interest in your hobbies, too, even if he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. It could be the most boring thing and he’d still listen and ask you questions about it. If it makes you happy, he wants to know all about it.

Pet names from him consist of things like babe, dude (💀), honey, occasionally sweetie, (jokingly… mostly) prince or princess. It’s all over the place. He’ll call you honey and dude back-to-back sometimes.

He loves debating if you’re comfortable with it! But be warned, he gets very heated about certain topics. His sense of justice is important to him. Otherwise, he’s usually not serious about these debates and doesn’t care who wins.

He tries to keep things light and doesn’t usually let people see his more serious side. He’ll open up to you more over time, however. It’s really him letting a wall down and allowing himself to get closer to you.

Every now and then, he has days where he’s a lot quieter and calmer than usual. He just wants to relax, stay on the couch with you and watch movies or simply chat. Maybe a movie chattering in the background as he tells you about his childhood. He doesn’t try so hard to keep up this energetic, heroic persona.

He’s right back to normal the next day like nothing happened.

Likes to annoy you for fun. Not in a mean-spirited way. He just thinks your responses are cute and has poor impulse control. Poking your cheeks or ruffling your hair or playing an obnoxious song loudly on the stereo while he dances. But he’ll back off if you’re genuinely upset with him. He means no harm.

He loves if you’re willing to play along with whatever he gets up to. Maybe he’s decided he’s going to try and vacuum the whole house while doing a handstand on the vacuum. You can hold onto his legs to help him stay balanced.

This man is very impulsive and has a tendency to get himself hurt. Random bruises all over his body or a cut along his forearm. He bounces back easily, and doesn’t want to fuss over it, but he lowkey likes if you baby him about it. He’ll always say how it’s not a big deal and he can take it, but his heart does this little flutter when you show concern, and even more if you force him to take better care of himself.

He burns himself in the kitchen and you force him to run it under cold water. He’s swooning inside.

He likes to gossip about others, especially over breakfast. He can’t help it; he’s just nosy, and he always has an idea of what’s going on and how he can help out. Huge bonus if you gossip with him!

He loves to feed you, but the majority of the food he brings for you is burgers or tubs of ice cream. He likes to experiment with the burgers’ toppings and seasonings, but they’re all burgers nonetheless.

Every now and then, he does plan some big romantic endeavor. It’s like a surprise. You never know when it’s coming… You wake up one morning and find out he’s booked a week long cruise, your bedroom is filled with balloons, and there’s enough breakfast food on the table to feed an army.

He does this thing sometimes (often) where he swoops in and has to save you. A puddle on the ground? No need to fear! He picks you up and swiftly carries you over it. The safest place for you is in his arms. He’ll even lay down and let you use him as a bridge if you want.

A suspicious penny on the sidewalk? LOOK OUT, IT MIGHT BE A BOMB! Let HIM step on it before you get blown up!

He steps on it. Nothing happens. Better safe than sorry!

If you’re the more independent type, that won’t stop him from trying. He just wants to keep you safe and have you appreciate his efforts. Being disinterested or resistant will just make him try harder.

Says cheesy stuff like “happy wife, happy life” unironically. He’s also the type to use terrible pickup lines to flirt with you. Totally unaware of how bad they are until you start laughing.

He also doesn’t care that they’re bad. He’s just having fun.

Loves to give you his clothes to wear. Seriously. You want one of his hoodies? Try six of them.

You complain when one stops smelling like him so he puts it on, works out, then gives it back to you like :D! Fixed the problem!

He takes so many pictures of you guys. Videos, too. His phone storage is eaten up by it. His favorite thing is to take selfies together. Usually with some silly filter. Or an even sillier caption.

“me and the babe out shopping” and it’s a picture of you, holding a piece of fruit with the dog ears filter

He’s not the most physically affectionate, but he always gives you morning kisses and especially kisses before leaving the house. He also loves carrying you around (mostly bridal style) in his arms for no reason other than he can. A hand on your back, another on your thighs, your head pressed against his chest. He loves it.

He loves knowing you find him physically attractive! He worries sometimes about being too overweight, so any reassurance that you like his body helps. If you think he’s hot, and you’re hot yourself, that must mean he definitely is.

Has a tendency to call you hot, but he’ll call you other things if it makes you uncomfortable.

Occasionally brags about you and how lucky he is. Not as often as you might think. Though he gets oddly competitive if anyone acts like their partner is better than you and starts spouting whatever he can so everyone knows you’re the absolute best. No competition.

#alfred isn't one of my fave characters so i hope i did him justice ♡ #hetalia #hetaila headcanons #hetalia imagines #hetalia x reader #aph america #hws america #aph america x reader #hws america x reader #america x reader #reader insert #sugar

[v1olentdelights]

Across a Crowded Room

Spencer Reid x reader - 2k words

TW: fire..., mention of like passing out and being in a hospital, just regular cm stuff, and my bad writing of how a fire starts? maybe

Summary: It had been a couple years since you and Spencer had seen each other. What happens when he gets a case in your hometown, and you reunite?

a/n: I can only think about having a job as a florist, so that's what we are gonna stick with. Hope you enjoy :) I know people cant just up and move... lets play pretend, okay. and thank you @magic-is-beauty for reading it over!

It had been a couple years since you had last seen Spencer Reid. You had met in a coffee shop you worked at. It was silly, but you had seen him come in a few times and thought he was cute, so you put your phone number on his cup one time. You could see how his cheeks turned bright red and how he turned towards you with a meek smile. Thank goodness he saw your number, because for the next 2 years you and Spencer would be best friends and dating. That was until he moved away.

On one of your many dates Spencer had told you he had big news. You were thinking that maybe he had been invited to teach.

“I’ve been invited to join the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia!” he exclaimed. And for the first time in your relationship with Spencer, you felt disappointed. Well not necessarily with him, more so that he was leaving you. 

“Oh, that's great Spence.” You tried to sound enthusiastic and supportive. But even Spencer could tell you weren’t. 

“You’re not happy?” It was more of a statement. 

“It's not that I’m not happy, I am really happy for you! You have wanted this for so long. But you are leaving me, and I’m going to miss you.”

“Well, I thought maybe you could come with me? There are a lot of great opportunities, especially considering D.C. is right next door.” 

“You know I can’t Spencer. I have a whole life here, family, a job, there is too much.” You could see the light in his eyes dim slightly. “I’m sorry, you know if I could that I’d be there with you every step of the way.” 

“No, no I totally understand. I just wish you could.” 

You both had spent your last few weeks together well, but you knew what him leaving meant. There was nothing you could do to stop the impending goodbye. And you guys tried to keep in contact, you really did. But your lives moved on and there seemed to be less and less time for you to talk to one another, so you just slowly lost contact. 

Over that time, you had moved back to your small hometown to take care of your sick grandmother while you balanced school and her flower shop. 

The BAU received a case in Spencer's hometown, your run of the mill arsonist. It was nothing too crazy, they were sure to be back to home base within the week. Thankfully only a few people had died and fewer were injured in the last couple of fires. 

Upon their arrival he was hit with a wave of nostalgia. 

--

“Come on! I want to show you my favorite ice cream parlor! There is even a great bookstore next to it!” You were skipping down the street with Spencer's hand in yours, and you were going a bit fast but he would never admit that. 

You had been gracious enough to invite Spencer to stay with you in your hometown for a few weeks during his last summer (unbeknownst to you) with you. 

“I’m coming!” he laughed as he sped up his walking a bit. That afternoon was one of the most memorable days you’d ever had. You were letting Spencer in on a part of your life only a few got to experience. 

“Come on Reid.” Hotch's voice pulled him out of his memory. On their way to the station, he was watching his life pass him by the whole way there. The Sunday afternoon walks, the dates at the small ice cream parlor you loved. They passed 2 of the crime scenes, one of which was that diner, both burnt to a crisp. 

As they were setting everything up, the team could tell Spencer's mind was somewhere else. No one mentioned it though thinking it was just the feelings of being home arising. There wasn’t much to go off of other than the locations and how the fires were started, a match and gasoline.

Hotchner had ordered everyone to go back to the hotel and get a few hours of good sleep and then come back ready to work. 

Spencer had been pacing the room for the past couple minutes contemplating texting you. He hadn’t deleted your number, and even if he had, he would have recalled it from memory.

If he were to text, what would he say? He hadn’t texted you in over a year now. Would a sudden message be weird? Spencer honestly just wanted to know if you were alright, the idea of you being in trouble or hurt made him sick. Maybe he could just say he’s in town and see if you wanted to catch up before he leaves. He would decide tomorrow, hopefully after gathering more information about the unsub. 

After deciding a town meeting would best get the word out and maybe reveal a few suspects, everyone gathered in the town hall. They were giving a short but in-depth profile to the public. Spencer was mid-sentence about an arsonist's motives when he caught a pair of familiar eyes staring right back at him. 

It was you. He’d recognize your eyes anywhere. Derek's cough and Emily’s staring kept him talking, playing the pause off as him forgetting something. After delivering the profile he excused himself and looked for you in the crowd. He didn’t get far before you grabbed his hand, he whipped around to see your small smile.  “Hey Spencer, it's been a while.” For a moment you both were still, but as if his brain had restarted, he wrapped you in his arms tightly. 

“I’ve missed you.” Both of you not pulling away for a moment, just taking in the moment. “I was going to text you, but-” he cut himself off, you’d understand. You always understood. 

“When I heard the buzz around town I almost texted you too. But then I remembered you're the one who catches the big bad guy, I should probably let you work.” You let out an awkward laugh. The last time you had seen him was when you were saying goodbye. 

You had taken Spencer to the airport so you could say goodbye, it was filled with tears, mostly from you, and plenty of hugs. 

“I’ll call you every chance I get.” he reassured you with a kiss to the nose, bringing his hand up to wipe away your tears.

“I know, but what if you can’t? What if you get hurt and die? How will I know you’re okay?” you sounded pathetic honestly, it was obvious that Spencer would be okay, he was on a team with some of the world's best profilers and was incredibly smart. But it didn’t stop you from worrying. 

“I'll be okay, I promise.” he pressed a gentle kiss, holding you tightly. Then you watched him walk through security and onto his new life. 

“I’ll always make time for you.” He said it in a way that sounded desperate, a way that told you he really meant it. But he could feel the team's stares, he knew that not only would they be wanting an explanation as to who you were; but that he also needed to get back to catching the unsub. 

“You go do what you need to do.” You nodded to the team, “And call me if you have time for lunch or dinner, we can catch up.” you rubbed his arm up and down once before walking away. Oh, how he hated watching you leave. 

“Sooooo, are you gonna tell us who that was?” JJ asked in a teasing tone.

“A girlfriend?” Emily joked as she bumped into Derek. Rossi and David had an uninterested look on their face, but were totally listening in. 

“Yes actually. We haven’t talked in a while though.” he turned back towards the way you left, hoping to see you again. 

Now time was running out, if they were able to trust the timeline of the last 3 fires, today there would be another. There were police frequently patrolling the streets. There wasn’t much more that could be done. The police station was buzzing, everyone looking into people who were suspicious. However, since they lived in the small town, their observations and conclusions had to be taken with a grain of salt. 

Then there was the ringing of a phone, everyone stopped for a moment. Someone picked it up only to hear an address then the phone hung up. The force was gearing up and peeling out of the parking lot calling in for the fire department, as was the team. 

You were tending to some of your assortments in the back when you heard the jingle of your doorbell. 

“I’ll be with you in just a moment.” as you were finishing up you heard a liquidy sound from the front of the store. As you came out a burst of flames emerged in front of you, slowly your flowers began to catch fire. The posters and Styrofoam, the rug, everything was catching fire, but you couldn’t make your way past to get out of the building. The fumes were rising, you thought you could hear sirens faintly. 

Trying to move away from the flames you made your way to the back room. There was another door that led into the alleyway. However, the door was locked, you kept twisting and ramming into the door, but nothing worked. You began to feel dizzy and almost sick.

Stumbling back into the wall for some support you slid into a sitting position. They covered what to do in this situation in school, but not to this extent. Just as you were about to fade out you heard someone yelling. In an attempt to get someone's attention you yelped as loud as you could, though it wasn’t that powerful, the first responders could hear. 

You could make out someone's figure as they wrapped their arms under your legs and back and carried you out. 

Waking up you could hear the beeping of the hospital machines. Your hand twitches but it was held by something, though it quickly squeezed your hand. Opening your eyes, you saw your handsome Spencer looking at you. 

“Hey, you're alright.” he smiled at you as he grabbed the water next to your bedside.  “The shop isn’t going to make it, is it?” 

“No, I don’t think it is. But I’d rather you have made it instead of the shop. I’m sorry about that, but you should be pleased to know we caught the guy.” 

“Doing your job perfectly, just like I imagined.” grabbing his hand again you squeezed it gently. 

“I thought about you every day. There is this coffee shop down the street from my apartment and it's almost exactly like the one we met at. But you’re not there, so it's not as perfect. And when I take the metro home, I think about what I would say to you.” He looks earnestly into your eyes “I think about you all the time, and I regret not taking you with me.” 

“I couldn’t come then, you know that. I had too much to take care of at home.” He shakes his head slightly in understanding. “But I guess now that my shop is burnt down… I don’t have much else, my classes are online, and my lease is almost up.” It was almost comical how his face lit up.

“You could come back with me to D.C. I mean, only if you want to.”

You both looked at one another in a new light. You could truly pick up and leave now, and it made you ecstatic for the future. 

“Only until I find a place of my own for now.” You brought his hand up to kiss his knuckles. 

“Until you find your own place.” He smiled constantly. Unbeknownst to him, almost his whole team was standing just out of sight, eavesdropping, preparing for a gossip session with Penelope.

#grace writes #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds #x reader #reader insert

[deansmom]

Everytime I point out that Dean Winchester is autistic, people get mad or look at me like I’ve spontaneously grown a second head, as if this man’s existence isn’t just checking off boxes for the diagnostic criteria

Special interests: westerns, cars, mechanical engineering stuff in general, 1960’s & 70’s music - specifically classic rock, monsters. You’re gonna look me in the eyes and tell me that it’s totally normal for someone who was born in 1979 to have borderline encyclopedic knowledge of two decades of music????? Hundreds of years of monster lore??? — for fuck’s sake, he had a train thing when he was little!!!! Those are special interests!!!!

Restricted diet: it’s mostly for Jokes but dean genuinely doesn’t eat much beyond burgers, diner food and pie.

Dean didn’t speak for months after Mary died and there’s 15 years of canon evidence where he loses his voice during moments of Big Emotions!!! He’s going nonverbal!!!!!!!

Trouble with social cues: literally look at every single instance of Dean trying to interact with strangers, ESPECIALLY in the early seasons. He’s not playing dumb, he just doesn’t get it. Also, watch any scene of this man TRYING to flirt and tell me that he’s any good at it. You know why? That bitch is mimicking the fucking movies and tv shows he grew up watching.

Sensory processing disorder: DO YOU THINK HE WEARS 87 LAYERS FOR FUN???? FOR FASHION????? WHAT DID YOU THINK ALL THE FLANNELS WERE ABOUT. THEY’RE SOFT. Also think about how much he liked the nightgown and the robe. ALSO, ALSO: school!!! It’s loud, it’s smelly, it’s dirty (his germ thing), the lights are too bright, there’s too much sensory input happening at one time. Between being so overwhelmed in school that he couldn’t focus and John pulling him left & right for cases and Sam, no wonder dean dropped out :(

14.04. The comic book episode is an ENTIRE episode about dean and his special interests!!!!!! And his social anxiety, hiding out in his room at the beginning of the episode because of all the strangers in his home 😤

Emotional regulation problems: those angry outbursts?? Destroying the Impala??? LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME THATS NOT A MELTDOWN

His whole personality is a mask! He based his whole life and personality around the men he grew up around! John, Bobby, the other hunters - we all know that dean isn’t this rugged manly man he puts on. Sure people can have layers, but my man literally wore his dad’s actual jacket for fucking years

Black & white thinking: this doesn’t need anything else tbh

Strong sense of Justice: “how many people do you have to save?” “All of ‘em. Whole wide world of sports.”

Literal thinking: half the show is about how they both have to learn to look at monsters and not immediately go “monsters bad.” Also literal thinking is hard to explain, but I promise he does this.

Hyperlexic: “what? I read?”

“Too blunt”: all those times you thought “that was kinda harsh Dean” or “wtf that was so mean” - he doesn’t like lying to people when he doesn’t have to!

Hyper empathy: “The baby in the well? My bad.” “I do my best to be brave.” Sacrificing himself for people over and over again. The djinn episode and the speech he makes in front of John’s grave. His whole life he’s been told he cares too much!!!!

As a fellow AuDHD bitch, the most AuDHD thing Dean has ever said was “we know a little about a lot of things. Just enough to make us dangerous.” Also: “I got no idea. But what I do have is a GED and a give ‘em hell attitude, and I’ll figure it out.”

Like I could dive into the nuances of all of these and explain them in great detail and find textual evidence for basically everything, but it’s too early in the morning for that much work when I know that I’m right. Yeah he has adhd, obviously, but I will eat my left hand if that man isn’t autistic.

#why do you think him & Cas get along so well!! #hilariously I don’t necessarily agree with the hc that Cas is autistic bc he’s just an angel with no context for all these things #but he’s like Spock! allegory or whatever for autism so ofc him & dean immediately vibe #also you think Charlie was allistic?!?! be so fucking for real rn #you think an autistic lesbian would intentionally befriend a heterosexual (allegedly) neurotypical yt man?? #[slams fists on the table] YOUR HONOR DEAN WINCHESTER IS A HIGH MASKING AUTISTIC AND I WILL NOT BE TAKING NOTES #personal

[incorrectssr]

Been chewing cement over Dottie Underwood again so I present the court with some sleep deprived babbling about the Red Room/bread scene at the beginning of 1x05 'The Iron Ceiling' that I typed out on Discord. I have had so many interpretations of the bread over my six years in this fandom and I maintain Dottie considered Anya as prey from the very beginning.

So we know that the bread is a hidden luxury (if it can be called that it looks stale as heck) that Dottie should not have, although is likely encouraged to have as I think survival and secrecy is something promoted by her superiors (Heaven forbid she gets caught though). However, sleeping in the middle of a highly open plan room she has limited time to consume her contraband. Knowing that the Matron is looking the other way as she is concerned with the handcuffs of girls behind and walking in the direction opposite to her, the girls around her busy with making their beds, Dottie takes out the bread and faces the direction that the Matron is making her rounds so that she can see how long she has.

Of course, this time, Anya is there. I like to think of Anya as either being a new addition, an older girl when taken or generally one of the weaker members of the cohort because I do not think Dottie has any friendly intentions towards her. The former appears more likely as Anya is shown to be physically larger and stronger than Dottie in the final fight scene (Dottie flinches when Anya feints a lunge towards her). The sharing of the bread, as I have said previously in one of my many extrapolations on this scene, is a signal of enmity for Dottie (as seen with her offering half her baguette to Peggy in the diner immediately after the Black Widow sequence - although the line 'I can never finish mine' could be interpreted in such a way to support the idea of a genuine friendship but I think that would be a little out of character… unless the timeline of the first sequence is MUCH longer than it appears… interesting, I might have to explore that avenue of thought later).

However, I think it is a necessity as well. She has been seen; it was always likely she would be seen. So she has three options: intimidate, bribe, or do nothing. In a cutthroat world the latter option would be suicide and the former would do little good against a girl physically bigger than her and would attract too much attention. Her only option is bribery, which naturally casts herself at the whim of her victim who could always choose to say no and snitch on Dottie but Dottie is a clever little beast and has already scoped Anya out.

Anya is wide eyed in these opening scenes. She watches Dottie's transgression as though she has never seen something so bold, would never dream of doing something so daring. Intimidation would scare her too much, but a sweet touch? Dottie has memorised every word, every tone, every expression of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves - she knows a defenceless creature when she sees one. And she hasn't had anyone to practice her bright, happy, childlike joy smile on yet. So she hands Anya - starving, obedient Anya - half of her hard earned bread and breaks out her well rehearsed smile. Does it first, quick - I am a friend I am a friend I am your friend - to open up the possibility of amicable relations for Anya to flash her teeth back BUT Anya's smile reaches her eyes and for a sequence with so much focus on Dottie's eyes one will notice her smile doesn't reach her own.

It's actually really sickening this sequence - especially the scene where she kills Anya. That said I am obsessed with the way that Anya uses her size to intimidate Dottie in the fighting arena and the way Dottie flinches away proving that Anya IS the superior fighter, the stronger, bigger candidate who SHOULD win the fight. But she can't because Dottie has been placing these seeds of friendship in her mind - the bread, sitting beside her in the projector room - and that will weaken the strong but not the tenacious. And Dottie Underwood does not care about your feelings but she does care about survival.

But yeah, I think the bread occurs as a one time necessity and carries on as a litmus test - how you respond to the bread determines how Dottie will deal with you. Peggy's refusal of half of the baguette no doubt reaffirms Dottie's perception of her as the perfect, spoiled girl who gets everything she wants. Peggy doesn't NEED the sustenance, doesn't accept it and is willing to let it waste without a second thought. For a girl raised on stale bread rolls tucked under her pillowcase that must feel like a spit in the eye. Fuck I love Dottie Underwood.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#i am really sick #she's my babygirl and she makes me insane #dottie underwood #black widow #agent carter #marvel #peggy carter

[chickenstrangers]

Wen as Observer in Moonlight Chicken

Something that really stood out to me on this rewatch of Moonlight Chicken is that Wen is always looking. He's always watching, very intently, and with so much yearning and vulnerability.

I remember being struck by Wen's eyes the first time I saw Moonlight Chicken, but on rewatch I realized it's because he's always looking. Unwavering. The camera is always watching Wen and Wen is always watching others. We are introduced to Wen with an extended shot of him gazing at Jim and Jim gazing back, and from that moment on, Wen does not stop looking.

Wen acts as the audience's surrogate in a lot of ways. He's new to the chicken diner ensemble, he's an outsider, he meets the rest of the characters along with us. The emphasis on Wen watching the other characters also underlines how Wen can be read as the point of view character, though not the main character (to the extent that the show has a single main character, which as an ensemble it doesn't really but Jim is the cornerstone for all the other characters). Because of this, there's a lot we don't get to know about Wen, a lot of the details of his life before coming to Pattaya and meeting Jim are vague, but we get to see a lot about the other characters through Wen's eyes.

Wen is often placed on the outside, watching. He is sometimes physically separated from the rest of the chicken diner family, looking on from a distance when he's with his other coworkers or watching while cleaning from the other side of the diner as Jim talks to Gaipa or Saleng. He's isolated, separate from the group, an intruder even. He wants community, a home, but also doesn't feel like he can have it yet, due to his job, due to Alan, and so he has his own walls up, casting himself as observer.

But the moments that really stick out to me are when he's looking at them close up, while sitting with them, or in Jim's case, often about two inches from his face. He's so blatant about it. But no matter how close he is to them, for a long time Wen still feels like an outsider looking in, wanting to be part of it but often just on the edges. There's a lot of loneliness and longing in these glances, wanting to see but also wanting to be seen in return. Wen asks Jim outright, teasing, "Can't I look at you?" but Jim just smiles and looks away.

Because he has that outside perspective, Wen's the first one to know about Li Ming and Heart, seeing them together in the food court and instantly recognizing their connection. He takes a photo of the two of them when they ask, highlighting his role as observer, acting as the camera lens. He doesn't tell Jim about seeing them together, and when Jim asks, he tells Jim he needs to pay more attention and listen more. Jim is too close to the situation to fully recognize what is happening, what his nephew is going through, but Wen notices.

Wen is always looking at Jim, and at the rest of Jim's (found) family, which is starkly contrasted by how he acts around Alan. The first time Alan is introduced, Wen can barely hold his eyes for most of the scene. The tables have turned and now Alan is the one looking, searching for the connection that has been lost. Looking back would reveal too much vulnerability for Wen, the love that isn't there anymore, and the guilt he feels. Until Wen gets mad, and then he locks eye contact. By the end of the show, however, as their relationship starts to heal and they are able to maybe actually be friends, they both look at each other more, without the intensity of before, but with comfort and familiarity.

Jim avoids long periods eye contact with Wen for much of the show, and though he looks back at Wen, he often quickly glances away. He can't look at Wen for too long because he has put up so many barriers between the two of them, not letting him get close. The way that Wen looks at Jim is completely open and inviting, begging him to look back, which Jim doesn't let himself do until the last few episodes. Gong warns Wen to just not make eye contact in order to avoid any emotional intimacy, but throughout the show we see that Wen is physically incapable of that. Wen doesn't want to put up those barriers between himself and others, and especially Jim, in just the same way that Jim is desperately clinging to those walls to protect himself, not ready for another love that might destroy him.

It isn't until the end, when Jim starts to open up and let Wen into his life, that Jim consistently looks back. Before this, it often became painful to see Wen looking so intently at Jim, putting it all out there, but not being fully seen in return, reciprocated. But they both desperately want to look. They're both lonely, even when surrounded by people, but they're unable to let each other in or be let in. There's so much yearning for that closeness, on both of their parts. They just need to be vulnerable and look back.

#moonlight chicken #mix sahaphap #this post got too long but it can't be helped #wen's eyes have bewitched me body and soul #moonlight chicken meta #thinking thoughts #mlc meta #wen mlc #jimwen #earthmix #wen 👀

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

I HAVE RETURNED FROM THE FNAF MOVIE AND I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS

✨ Non-spoiler section ✨

I had such a fun time with this movie! There were a ton of Easter eggs I caught and I’m sure there’s a few that I missed! My best advice for anyone wanting to see this movie is don’t take it super seriously, you’ll enjoy it more! The makers of this film weren’t lying when they said that they made this movie for the fans, I do feel like fans will enjoy this movie way more than a general audience and that’s perfectly fine! It’s campy at some parts and funnier than I thought it would be, but that’s what made it so fun! Now for the nitty-gritty…

❌ SPOILERS BELOW ❌

What I liked…

• First off, Matthew Patrick is a fucking LIAR! He does have a cameo in the movie, he says his iconic “That’s just a theory” line which was great! He’s a waiter at a diner, which leads me to my next point

• The diner was named “Sparky’s”, which I feel like only OG fans will get the reference. But for those of you who don’t know, back when FNAF 1 came out, there was a rumor of a secret/rare animatronic in the game called Sparky the Dog. There was a fake image floating around showing him standing in the door to parts and service. This was later confirmed to be fake. BUT! In the movie they also have a dog-looking animatronic in the parts and service room which absolutely took me out lol

• Acting was great! Everyone was fun to watch, Josh Hutcherson was a great lead as Mike and Piper Rubio was so sweet as Abby but I gotta give my props to Matthew Lillard towards the end of the movie, he looked like he was having so much fun being this unhinged monster! Speaking of…

• There is a spring lock scene!! It is real!! And God was it cathartic to watch! Obviously being PG-13, they couldn’t do blood and guts galore, but I think they managed to pull it off pretty well! Afton’s scene was definitely my favorite in the film hands down! And yes, he gets his “I always come back” line which put 5 years back on my life if I’m being honest lmao

• There is blood in this movie! Not a gratuitous amount, but it was enough for what they were going for I think! The kills of the people breaking to Freddy’s were more entertaining to watch than I thought! Especially Freddy’s kill…that caught me completely off guard lmao

• There aren’t too many jumpscares but that was fine with me! They do this repeat jumpscare with a little figurine of Balloon Boy like 3 times and I thought it was funny every time! They do a really good job with tension in this movie!

• The animatronics!!!! LOVED THEM!!!! They were so detailed and well designed, they were so fun to watch!! The Jim Henson company did an absolutely stellar job with the designs, I want to hug them 🥺

• So the story…I thought it was fine! They do stray from canon by making Vanessa Afton’s daughter in the movie instead of Mike being his son. They do confirm Afton was the one who kidnapped and killed Mike’s brother Garrett. The story is kind of left open ended as if they could continue the story (which I hope they do), but I think it leaves a more or less satisfying ending!

• There’s a minor mid-credit scene with Cory Kenshin and a secret message at the very end of the credits. I couldn’t hear it well but it’s spelled-out letters exactly like the ones from the death minigames in FNAF 2

• Yes, The Living Tombstone’s FNAF song is in the end credits, I felt my soul leave my body 😭

Minor Negatives…

• The story is slow at the beginning, it takes a little bit for anything super interesting to take place

• There are some plot points that don’t get explained or resolved (which is par for the course for FNAF) but that leads me to believe that they want to make sequels which I am all here for

• The Aunt Jane character wasn’t super important, she was fine, but she was there just to serve as an antagonist to Mike for a whole 5 minutes of the movie, if that

• I wanted so much more Afton/Spring Bonnie time, it was too short for me but I am happy with what I got. Also, he didn’t wear any purple in the movie which I think is a crime 😂

• Kind of wish there was an R rated version of this movie even though FNAF isn’t known for being bloody and gory, but some parts felt a little tame

• Also please correct me if I’m wrong but, they didn’t use the Toreador March music at all?? If I missed it, please tell me but I was waiting to hear it and it never came from what I remember

Speculation…

• So the biggest plot issue for me was that they never explained Afton’s intentions for killing. I think fans of the games know why he’s killing, but the general audience won’t. I’m sure it has something to do with the saw blade machine that tries to stuff your head into Freddy’s head. But it wasn’t clear. Vanessa never gave us a straight answer either even though she was in on it from the beginning.

• Towards the beginning of the movie, Abby is shown to be talking to her “invisible friend”, this is before Mike is hired as Freddy’s security guard. Turns out that friend is the ghost kid who possess Golden Freddy/Fredbear (again, isn’t clear lol). I wanna know why that kid showed up before Mike and Abby even went to the location??

• I may be reading too much into this, but when Mike goes in to get a new job after being fired from his mall security guard job, he’s talking to “Steve” and Steve does something interesting. He’s berating him for his inability to hold down a job, the he looks at his name on the file and just goes “…Mike S…” and just, doesn’t finish saying his name. He looks at Mike really weird like he’s trying to find something, and then just completely changes the subject. IDK, I’ll probably have to watch it again, and I think it would be a stretch to go the “Mike Afton” route especially since they established Vanessa was his kid. But ya never know with FNAF 😂

• Also the secret message that was spelled out at the end of the credits. If any of y’all know what they spelled, please tell me because I could not figure it out! I would love to know what it said!

Conclusion…

I just had a blast with this movie! I wasn’t sure what to expect with this movie but I think Blumhouse and everyone who worked on this movie did an amazing job, you can tell they put so much heart and soul into this! I will patiently be awaiting the announcement of the next movie until then!

Rating - 8.5/10

#fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy’s movie #fnaf spoilers #fnaf movie spoilers #five nights at freddy’s movie spoilers #five nights at freddy’s spoilers #spoilers #fnaf movie review

[royallygray]

JUST WATCHED EP3 TO THE END OF THE LIGHTNING THIEF AND OH BOY

I enjoyed that. Significantly. SOME OF MY FAVORITE THINGS (spoilers):

Hades is so fucking based? And for what? Like he's so chill he's chill in the books but Hades is cool as a cucumber

Pausing the show to rant to my friend about stuff that was inaccurate or just how cool stuff is. I love the show.

The funniest fucking thing was when Cerberus fucking broke through the clouds after Percy squeaked the ball and that was a literal jump scare and I screamed. It was fucking amazing.

I was so mad after Annabeth hugged Percy at the Arch and Grover didn't get a hug. LET MY FUCKING BOYS HUG OH MY GODS IDK IF THEY HUG IN THE BOOKS BUT GROVER LOOKED SO LONELY

Speaking of: GROVER IS THE MOST FUCKING AMAZING CHARACTER. HE GASLIT ARES. I LOVE HIM.

Speaking of, I also enjoyed Annabeth gaslighting Hermes.

I also liked screaming "LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA" when he was going up the elevator.

Also Medusa was kind of like... nice? And I got weirdly attached to her? Also where was the diner I wanted them to eat their hamburgers in the diner

grovers conflict resolution skills are. peak

the scene where he snaps at them after Medusa is dead is fucking amazing.

My friend and I were so upset that Percy and Annabeth didn't have the double stuf Oreo scene in the shitty animal trafficking truck

although when they got out of the truck and let the animals escape, I fucking adored Grover being like "the animals are safe" and Percy being like "I meant the humans" and Grover going "oh. them. well, the animals are safe!"

Fucking hated Echidna. Bitch. I enjoyed hating her. She looks like if a school counselor got sent to an insane asylum and broke out. I don't know how, but it works in my brain.

I was screaming the entire time they were at the Arch. I went summer o' 2023 and LIKE. IT WAS SO COOL. Also Thomas Jefferson? Legend. I went to Monticello and the UVA on the same trip. I fucking love architecture. Really hate that he had slaves. The architecture was really cool though. Not a good person, but he does like his fucking brick roads. Seriously. So many brick roads. He's a hypocrite politician who had slaves, he is, but also designed some pretty fucking cool architecture.

Anyways back to the Arch, I WALKED ON THAT GROUND THAT THEY WALKED ON YIPPEE :D

Also I was a little disappointed that Percy slipped off of the Arch rather than jumping but whatever

OMG THE HEPHAESTUS SCENE ANNABETH I LOVE YOU. I fucking loved that scene she fucking solved it.

Also Sally wanting Percy to be different from the gods because their family is shitty AF? sad. AND him actually being different and Annabeth believing in him? sad.

AND LUKE. SOMEHOW I LIKED LUKE AT THE END. AND MY FRIEND AND I HAD AN ENTIRE DISCUSSION.

LUKE'S REASONS WERE SO FUCKING JUSTIFIED AND IT MAKES ME SAD. Sure, he shouldn't've fucking SOLD HIS SOUL to Kronos, but gods. Luke. You were right. You are right. The gods should fucking carry their slack, and while I don't think Percy believed him at first, at least not completely, I think by Last Olympian Percy understands completely where he's coming from, because Percy has a lot of pent up emotions at the gods too and I think Luke got part of what he wanted. I think

ANYWAYS HERE ARE SOME PHOTOS I TOOK WHEN WE PAUSED THE SHOW TO TALK:

the second one of Ares (the contemplation face) is a meme. I guarantee it. I can't remember which meme, I just remember that I've seen that facial expression before.

the angles of Ares and Grover for the 1st Grover one (the weird above angle) were strange. like a detective scene. a strange detective scene. it was fucking hilarious.

Grover having his head out of the roof was such an amazing moment for me. I loved it. It's such a good picture.

also here's a meme I made

Thank you for coming to my ted talk and have a nice rotation of Earth's axis :)

#pjo hoo toa #pjo #pjo series #pjo spoilers #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #pjo tv show

[saltygilmores]

THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS: S3/EP6: TAKE THE DEVILED EGGS (Pt 2) (This One's Gonna Be a Real Rage Inducer) (Lots Of Interesting Development Though) (So many things happening) (Salty Rambles about Jess Mariano's Birthday)

There is something to be said about Luke (on multiple occasions) readily admitting he pays Jess in ketchup packets to toil in the Coffee Mines more or less against his will. I get that it's just a part time job after school...before school..while he's cutting school..always working...never stopping...never reicieving any tips from Lorelai and Rory... Rory needs a job... Rory and Lorelai need to pay for their food... Anyway these comments shed a light on the shaky economies of small businesses in small towns which is interesting to me. Gilmore Girls is really, at it's core, a show about class. One day he could wake up to find his diner has been turned into a Dunkin Donuts (this is Not-Quite-But-Almost-New England after all, where DD is king).

Hahahahaha!! Jess stole money to buy a car and he committs attempted murder! Hahahahaaha! You're SO FUNNY LORELAI GILMORE. Your daughter stole a boat.

Yeah. And maybe back home, he did had to steal to survive sometimes. How about them apples, Lorelai Gilmore. God, do I loathe her.

Don't say that around Lorelai, I think she'd believe you were being serious.

A couple of the moots and I recently decided that in the recent past, Liz managed to land and then lose a halfway decent boyfriend/ father figure to Jess who had a car and taught Jess to drive and do repairs and some other light adulting. I honestly feel like this is the only thing that makes sense.

HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN THIS SCENE!!! Fuck meeee. Look at that li'l curl...

LOOK AT IT!!!! You know what, I'm calling it. I'm putting my foot down. This is the hottest Milo had ever looked in the entirety of seasons 2 and 3. It's that perfectly gelled hair, the jean jacket, the cool tshirt. Very James Dean. Woof. Let's see, what would I choose for second place? I have to go with the party scene in KegMax, another episode with impeccably jelled hair and a jean jacket (and even while he was apparently sick shooting that episode too). He just progresses in hotness the further season 3 marches on.

These four words "I'm still a minor" are a point of contention for me in the ongoing debate about his birth month. My beliefs: Jess is a Virgo. He was born in August or early September. This would make him just older than Rory by just a smidge. Since well over a year has passed in the show since the episode he arrived in Stars Hollow as a 17 year old (when he arrived, it was early September as Rory had just started school in that episode), he had just celebrated his birthday before arriving and so he has to have already turned 18 by this episode. However, I will consider the theory that Luke was clueless or misinformed about his age at the time he arrived (because it's not like LIz is in any way reliable with information) and he was actually 16 going on 17 when he hopped off the bus last year, and maybe he has an October or November birthday making him slightly younger than Rory. It would make sense that both missed the kindergarten cut off dates in 1989 at their respective schools (which is rock solid canon already for Rory, as she was born in October 84 but graduated in 03 instead of 02), putting them in the same grade.

Salty has put a pathetic amount of thought into this. So, how can I accept this statemen? I attribute it to the same brand of biting sarcasm that gave us "I mugged an old lady" moments ago and also because this scene doesn't make a whole lot of sense to begin with. He's still a minor, but he got his own insurance all by himself under his own name, which is not really a thing, but not his own car registration? Committing insurance fraud perhaps? Sketchy insurance company that didn't ask too many questions? He knows a guy who knows a guy who can print up some fake documents? At that point why not go all the way with the white collar crimes and forge Luke's signature on the registration too? See, Lorelai thinks Jess is a thief and murderer when he's really a white collar criminal like Taylor Doose.

My memory was certain that he produced a cigarrette and not a pen in this scene. I had to edit this post to remove a line about him smoking. I guess I confused it with the Then She Appears/ Cmurrh kissing scene, where he's also wearing a jean jacket with a popped collar. Damn. I can't wait for that scene...

Just some light fraud. If the car belonged to someone in Stars Hollow, whoever's registration he stole probably deserved it anyway. This is how I approach all "Crimes" Jess commits in Stars Hollow. There are only a few people who don't deserve it. Your honor, my client is innocent.

Oh no, the couch of doom. No good conversations ever happens between Rory and Lorelai on the couch, especially after one of them comes home at night and finds the other one on the couch. The Gilmores recieve an invitation to Sherry's baby shower. The moots and I have determined that Doula and Gigi will eventually band together to form the most powerful duo of neglected half sisters the world has ever seen. For the record, today Doula would be 17 and Gigi would be 21. Since Jess eventually comes to adopt and raises Doula she has a somewhat decent chance of coming out a well adjusted adult. At the very least, if she was stuck with TJ and Liz, Jess would still be a positive influence on her life, visit her and look out for her and make sure she didn't get sucked into any cults. The odds are a lot more grim for Gigi with Crusty and Sherry as her forever "parents" and let's face it, very likely her relationship with big sister Rory or any of the other Gilmores is non existent.

And things were so peaceful. Especially since Dean hasn't reared his ugly head in the last two episodes, either.

You flip flop with Crusty so much how can anyone possibly keep track of whether you're on the outs with him or banging him at any given time?

And by saying that out loud you're gonna tip the balance of the universe and he's going to show up. I looked ahead and although this is sadly still a Crusty-Focused episode, he doesn't actually make an appearance. Small blessings. To Lorelai's surprise, Rory admits that she's been in contact with Crusty and Lorelai is okay with it but upset that Rory was hiding it from her. God, he's such a parasite.

Emails. How quaint.

Highly debatable.

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 3 #TDDE #Take the Deviled Eggs #Rory Gilmore #Lorelai Gilmore #Jess Mariano #Luke Danes #Milo Ventimiglia

[captain-lessship]

Phase One-Seven with 2D, Russel and Murdoc

Note: For 2D and Russel, the reader in gender Neutral (pan and bi kings) and for Murdoc, it’s fem reader (I am sorry but I can’t see him dating a man imo but you can simply read over the gendered head cannon if you want <3)

Phase One 2D-

You were a waitress at the diner where Gorillaz always got breakfast and he was smitten with you almost instantly and always tried to look his best when they went there, leading Murdoc to make fun of him for “preening like a lanky rooster”

Is a little shy and still shocked you even agreed to go on a date with him in the first place ( Having your eyes knocked in by a bastard bass player who shouldn’t be allowed to ever drive might put a damper on your dating scene)

Has a small amount of trust issues but slowly and steadily, he opened his heavily romantic side to you.

His love language is words of affirmation. He compliments you a lot and genuinely means each and everyone.

Is a classic man when it comes to pet names but when he gets drunk and such, he breaks out a special one: Painkiller. (Must be heavily intoxicated and has only happened once. He later yelled “Swiper, No Swiping” at a picture of a fix while walking home later that night)

Speaking of painkillers, you make sure he never takes too many at once and he won’t argue with you about it.

Phase Seven 2D

Twenty one years later and still going strong.

Has gotten to the point where he can’t sleep unless he’s beside you. 

He just feels so loved and protected by you.

Although he still sings your praises, he’s developed a taste for gifts he’ll know you will like. 

Has kept mementos from every one of your dates: movie ticket stubs, Photo Booth slips, receipts from dinners, little souvenirs from trips and key cards from hotels. They are stored in a converse box. He had made it his mission to protect it because it is essentially a time line of nearly a quarter of a century spent with you.

When he took you to Hollywood, you and him had a great time. Until you realized that you’re loving boyfriend was about to get sacrificed. That really killed the vibe of the getaway.

Phase One Russel-

You were the instrument repair person and he often stared at you while you were fixing his drum set. 

He asked you to watch a movie and the rest is history.

You both shit talk Murdoc in the privacy of your rooms. 

You two pretty much keep everyone else alive. (Which means you cut the crust off 2D’s and Noodles sandwich and don’t let Murdoc suffocate in his own smell while lounging in the Winnebago) 

One time you and him went on a weekend get away and came back to a kitchen with a scorched ceiling,    a broken water pipe and one less Murdoc eye brow.

He is definitely a Quality time guy. 

You and him have a ritual where you make your breakfast and sit in complete silence.

At the start of the relationship, you thought the silence was his way of showing irritation but really it was the opposite.

You’ve come to love the lack of words but surplus of radiating love from him.

Phase Seven Russel-

The relationship has gotten tough as of late due to his new hobby: staring at TV Static.

You get into arguments about it when he finally looks away

You are trying your best to kept it together 

You still spend a lot of time with him but you hate the feeling that you need to compete with fabled answers in blurring white, gray and black. 

After the events of the cult incident , he slowly started to return to normal, much to your joy.

Slowly but surely, your relationship got back on track.

Phase One Murdoc-

Heard you doing spoken word one night at a “weird hipster whacko bar” (his exact words) he was scoping out to potentially rob and thought you’d be a great song writer 

Talked to you about it, caught feelings after a month or so

attempted to kidnap you but you dropped a piano out the window on his head.

Just kidding.

It was a keyboard. 

After a week of shame and plotting, he did what only Murdoc could do: Try again.

You escaped being kidnapped once again but at this point, you had kinda gotten a crush on him. So you moved into his ‘house’ of Kong Studios to work on the song writing process with his magnum opus of a band called Gorillaz.

You became a hit with all the band members. 2D because you kept Murdoc from hitting him, Russel because you were great to talk to and cook with and Noodle because she was happy to have another girl around, even if you were a good twenty years older than her.

You and Murdoc are a surprisingly easy going and comfortable couple. Everyone has their quirks and it just so happens that yours doesn’t irk him and his doesn’t irk you. 

Sure there’s things you don’t like about him (the abuse of the singer, the kidnapping/ attempted kidnapping of people, Attempted Murder, Drug Possession, Driving Law Violations.) but you love him anyway.

Life has not been kind to Murdoc, which doesn’t give him an excuse but it gives an element of understanding. 

He is trying to change for you. He’s trying to be calmer, a tad nicer and more pleasant to be around and the effort is all you ever asked for. 

Alright happy time people, happy time.

Is very affectionate in the comfort of his home.

Prone to just laying a random one of his limbs on you while sitting down. 

You have matching upside down cross necklaces. 

Is a physical touch kind of guy, but on his own terms.

No very romantic in the regular but when he tries? Yup.. Mr. Darcy Material (Pride and Prejudice is the only movie that he doesn’t fall asleep during)

Phase Seven Murdoc-

Welp… When your lover of twenty one years starts a cult to take a demon to bed, there’s only so much you can forgive.

This caused a rift and you are very angry with him at the moment. 

But then, you got called to the hospital (You are 2Ds and Noodles Emergency contact) 

Of course you showed up.

What you then saw was the tipping point.

You and Murdoc are currently on a break. (Will resume after detailed apology and if you decide to do so.) 

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[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

ASG - Part Four: All Shook Up

Character/Fandom: Elvis - ELVIS (2022)

Requested: yes! - anons

Prompt: When Gladys Presley invited Bird up to Graceland to work as a cook in the house, she had mixed feelings. But in order to support herself and her daddy, she moved up to Memphis anyway. Things have been awkward between her and Elvis, but strange things are happening every day and, not surprisingly, Elvis has her all shook up again. [ Fem!OC ]

TW: Angst, smut, cursing, a little physical aggressiveness + i think that's it!

Rating:  M, this is good stuff baby  ||     Word Count: 16,293 🥴

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE!! I have never worked harder on a fic tbh, and the dialogue in this one hits so hard. Yes, the one part is inspired by that scene in Dirty Dancing — you know the one. Sorry for taking FOREVER, but I really hope y'all enjoy it!

This is Part 4 of ASG. FInd the rest of the series here!

🦋 mila

This is a BIG boi + it’s special, so pls read these notes:

This is super long, so I put little PAGE BREAKS in places where you can pause reading. Please take advantage of them!

If you want the true experience, I've written in song suggestions to play while you read. This is obvi totally optional!!!

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“I jus don’t know what to do bout it,” Gladys says, running a hand over her face. “They’re makin fun of my baby all over town. And probably all over the country, too.”

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Presley,” Bird responds, taking a bowl of something warm from her fingers. “I can always go back home if this is a bad time.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, honey,” she replies in her thick southern drawl. “We love havin you over. You don’t know how nice it is to have another woman in this damn house.”

Bird smiles painfully as she watches Gladys reach for a beer.

A lot has happened since Elvis had broken Bird's heart and left her sobbing on the floor of her house in Louisiana. It was almost five months later when she received a call from Gladys Presley. She had been shocked to hear a familiar voice on the other end of the line. She’d called to ask if Bird wanted to come up to Memphis and move in with the family. One of their cooks had quit and Gladys couldn’t find anyone who cooked southern-style food the way she liked it. Bird knows she'd taken quite a liking to her. Whenever Elvis had brought her home for dinner, just a handful of times, Bird was always willing to help.

Anyway, she did always have a knack for cooking, especially those delicious southern-style comfort dishes. She had originally refused, but when Gladys called twice more and offered to pay Bird handsomely, it wasn’t really a conversation anymore. She and daddy were struggling after he turned to alcohol for comfort and wasn't working as much as usual. Bird had picked up an extra job at the diner in town while still working at the hayride. She'd been working herself to death, but with the Presley’s money she can help support herself and her father without having to break her back.

Plus, she’d offered.

Bird is always incredibly nervous about seeing Elvis, especially after everything that has happened. But she didn't know what else to do. It was too good of a deal for her. So, she'd packed up some of her belongings and moved up to Memphis, leaving daddy at home by himself.

Mr. and Mrs. Peachtree, the Presley’s neighbors, welcomed her into a small guest house in their backyard. Gladys had offered for her to stay at Graceland, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to bear it. Being so close to him and not being able to have him. It was all too painful, too regretful. And she knew Elvis wouldn’t want her there, anyway.

It really hasn’t been all that bad. The money is good, the amenities are nice, Mr. and Mrs. Peachtree are always warm and welcoming toward her. Gladys has been surprisingly like a surrogate mother in many ways. She’s been protective over her, frequently asking how Bird's getting on at the house and whether the Peachtrees are treating her right. She's even asked how bird's father is a time or two, even though Bird get the feeling Gladys doesn’t like him much. You can’t blame her. She’d even let Bird have a few sips of beer, despite the fact that she was still underage. That’s something her father would never allow her to do, even if you were of legal age.

“I just hope he’s doin aright,” Gladys continues. “That damn Colonel is always tellin him what to do.”

Bird keeps her mouth shut but raises her eyebrows in agreeance. Despite sympathizing with her, Bird doesn't feel like it’s her place to say anything about the family. Not to mention this entire conversation is still a sore spot since she's convinced that the Colonel is the reason for her breakup with Elvis.

“Oh lord they’re home! My poor baby!” Gladys shouts, glancing out the windows.

Speak of the devil, himself. Bird joins Gladys at the window, watching the familiar dark purple 1956 Cadillac Eldorado drive slowly up the path to the house. There has been a crowd outside for hours now, and the noise is driving her crazy.

The dinner isn’t even finished cooking yet, but Elvis and Mr. Presley would be bursting through the front door any minute now. They’re coming back from New York where Elvis had been on the Steve Allen show. Long story short, the performance was a disaster. He’d been put onstage in full-length tailcoats and forced to sing to a hound dog. An actual hound dog.

Bird watched at home with the Peachtrees, squeezing a pillow tightly. She'd felt especially awkward in recent days. She likes the Peachtrees very much, but they are made of old money and she knows they have mixed feelings about the Presleys. Mrs. Peachtree has been adamant that Elvis isn’t the type of boy young girls should be looking up to. And she used his “Hound Dog” performance as ammunition to prove her point. Bird bites her tongue whenever the Peachtrees begin to badmouth him. And she pretends not to know about all of the rude things the other neighbors whisper about the Presleys behind their backs.

Just as the car parks, Bird quietly dips back into the kitchen to help Alberta, the other cook, with the rest of the food. But mostly to avoid Elvis. She does that a lot nowadays, avoiding, and she doesn't even want to think about the first time he’d discovered her at the house. Apparently, Gladys had neglected to tell her son that his ex-sweetheart would be coming up to work in the house.

She winces just thinking about how all the blood drained from his face, how he’d dropped his guitar out of shock. How the force of its fall had broken the guitar's neck. She hadn’t meant for him to see her. Ever, actually. It's her preference, truthfully, to never be seen by him again. But he’d walked in the door as she was rushing to get the plates out for dinner on time. And then it just happened. They both saw each other and everything was over, the whole facade. And she'd only been there for three days.

After that first awkward encounter, things actually improved between them. They still can’t talk or look at each other, but they're able to be in the same room without feeling sick to their stomachs. That sounds like nothing to celebrate but it's kind of a big accomplishment for both of them. Gladys is a big reason why they've started to come around to each other again. She wants them both to be friends, at least. It’s also easier with Elvis touring more often now since he’s gone so much. In the last month, Bird's barely even seen him at all.

But something in her stomach drops as she hears the door open and some scuffling and low talking. She suddenly feels extremely embarrassed to be present in the house and is afraid to reveal herself, especially if he’s already in a bad mood. She busies herself doing something that doesn’t really need to be done. Anything to keep her from having to go out there and deal with family issues.

Alberta hands Bird some dishes. She would protest, but Alberta knows she isn't doing anything but avoiding Elvis. And the cook is actually busy, so Bird takes the plates. Gulping nervously, she raises her neck high to feign confidence and then goes out into the dining room. Gladys is shouting, still complaining about Elvis’ hound dog performance.

“...and I said maybe you shouldn’t speak like that. And she said…”

“I like what you did with the dog,” she hears Vernon say from the living room.

“It was the most embarrassin performance of my life, daddy,” she can barely hear Elvis’ gruff, mumbled reply.

She sheepishly glances up from her place in the dining room and can’t help but grin a little at Elvis’ childlike appearance. He’s laying on his side on the piano bench, looking like an exhausted toddler.

“...gettin a laugh outta putin a hillbilly in a tailcoat and singin to a dog,” Gladys continues.

Bird lets the secondhand embarrassment settle in her gut as she remembers how stiff and unnatural he looked during his performance on live television. She had hated the whole thing. It just wasn’t him. It isn’t him. Bird knows him well enough by now to know that the way he moves only enhances his performance. It’s the passion inside of him that moves him the way it does.

Bird turns away as Gladys continues to complain about the neighbors’ whispered gossip. She tries to pretend like she doesn't know that the Peachtrees are in that very group.

The Peachtrees were nice enough to not say it to her face, of course, but they were always saying rude things about Elvis behind Gladys’ back. And she doesn't have the heart or the place to tell the Presleys the nasty things and rumors that are whispered in the secret spaces of the neighborhood.

“Damn it, mama. It were either that or get cancelled,” Elvis says, flipping onto his back. “Then that’s it for television. The Colonel says that I’m runnin outta states I’m welcome in. And they don’t pay unless I can perform. Colonel says I play the charity concert tomorrow night as the new family style and ‘en everybody calms down and we get back on track.”

“Someone’s gotta think bout keepin a roof over our heads,” Vernon agrees, bringing his cigarette to his lips.

Bird keeps her mouth shut, even though thoughts are circling around her brain. She takes a stack of silverware from Alberta. She feels extremely awkward, like she should leave. This is family business, and here she is in the middle of it.

“Roof over our head?” Gladys asks, gesturing toward the roof of Graceland. “We’ve always managed to keep a roof over our head, Vernon.”

“Colonel says daddy’s business manager. It’s his job,” Elvis replies.

“We was doin jus fine before that man came along,” Gladys responds sharply.

“Colonel has got us all uh this,” Elvis says, gesturing to Graceland again.

“I don’t want all this!” Gladys shouts. “You’re not happy!”

“I’m not!” Elvis yells back, flexing his arms and curling his fingers into fists.

Bird, distracted by the strangely sexy temper Elvis had displayed, jumps when Gladys slams the dining room table. Her hands create a shockwave that clinks all the nice dishes and silverware up and down on the table. She holds a few plates to her chest and accidentally makes eye contact with Elvis. He stares back at her with eyes that are dark blue, clouded with anger and frustration. This is the first time they've both really looked at each other, like really looked, in so many months. Since they'd broken up, actually. And it kills every part of her.

“And what the hell is she even doin here?” Elvis asks, pointing at her. Bird feels a tinge of pain and bites the inside of her cheek, pressing the plates into her chest uncomfortably.

“I invited her! You leave her outta this. And that’s beside the point, Elvis. You’re losin yourself, bewbie,” Gladys yells sharply.

“Aw hell, mama, I…”

Gladys approaches her son slowly as he shakes his head. She places her hands on his shoulders and whispers into his ear.

“The way you sing and move, it’s god-given. So, there can’t be nothin wrong with it,” she says.

Bird glances up again from the table to see Elvis staring right at her. His eyes have softened, returning to their natural blue now. That gentle blue that she hasn't seen in so long.

As much as she hates to admit it, Bird's whole body is screaming with affection when he looks at her. She really needs the job, but if she's being honest with herself, so much of her also wants to be near him. She knows that what had happened between them had caused a rift so great that it might never be repaired. But she wants to try so badly. She hopes every day that maybe, just maybe, he’ll see her the way he once did and fall back in love with her all over again. This time, she thinks, I can say it back.

Suddenly, his cousin Billy and a bunch of teenage friends come barrelling into the house, causing a ruckus and tracking dirt everywhere. The commotion breaks the intense eye contact between them.

“Don’t track mud in the house, Billy!” Elvis yells. When Billy starts to protest, Elvis grabs him by the shirt and tosses him toward the open front door. “Get outta my house!” he shouts. “Get outta my goddamn house! Trackin mud in my house, doin my damn head in.”

He takes a few steps toward the door, rubbing a hand over his face and into his hair. He has her full attention, and everyone else’s in the room, even if he doesn’t realize it. Bird hates seeing him this way. The reckless energy he gives off in these moods makes her nervous that he’ll do something rash without meaning to.

“Mama, you ain’t never happy. No matter what I do, no matter how much I give ya, it ain’t never enough,” he shouts and Bird can hear Gladys quietly starting to cry. She takes a swig of the beer in her hand. Elvis turns to leave but then spins back around and points with an accusatory finger at his mother.

“And I wish you would not drink so goddamn much. It’s not good for ya!”

“Bewbie!” Gladys yells after him, as he spins on his heel and storms outside.

Reacting without thinking, Bird places the plates down on the table and takes off out of the house and through the door after him. He storms to his car and angrily throws the door open. When Bird steps outside into the warm Tennessee air, she's confronted with a group of people she doesn't even know. She frustratedly pushes her way through them and stalks toward the car. But by the time she reaches it, he’s already started it and peeled off into the grass, tires squealing.

The rubber tires singe the beautifully manicured lawn as Billy yells at him to turn around. Bird takes off running, cutting through the grass and hoping to catch him in time. As she approaches the gate through her shortcut, there’s a mass of people waiting, holding up signs, snapping photos, and cheering. She watches as Elvis flicks the radio on and winces at the sound of “Hound Dog” radiating from the car. Elvis angrily wipes his mouth and punches the tuner again to find a different station. “Hound Dog” again. He pokes it again, this time landing on the Beale Street station. His favorite.

[ -> "Let It All Hang Out" ]

His focus on changing the station means that he’s stopped the car and fans have gathered around it in a circle. He’s stuck for a moment, just long enough for Bird to push her way through the crowd and latch her fingers onto the side of the convertible. She can tell that her sudden movements have scared him — probably because of the screaming girls around them — when his head shoots up in her direction. She swings the door open and climbs in.

“What the hell you doin?” he shouts over the noise, clenching his jaw and looking at her sideways.

“You’re not goin nowhere by yourself,” Bird says forcefully and folds her arms over her chest. “Not when you're like this.”

His angry expression is back and scares her a little, but she also feels a subtle throbbing sensation deep in the pit of her stomach. A feeling she knows well and has felt before around Elvis.

He says nothing back but turns the wheel as he starts to drive again. Girls scream, shake their signs, and try to grab at the car. Bird catches quite a few dirty looks from some of them, which she returns without hesitation. As the car squeals out of the driveway, she glances back to see a black car taking off after them. Bird turns around on her knees to try and get a better look at it as it tails them.

“Someone's followin us,” she says, turning back around to slide into the leather seat.

“Let ‘em. I don’t give a shit,” Elvis says and she clamps her lips shut.

They both settle in for the drive, no sounds but the wind blowing through the car and the hits from Beale Street humming on the radio. Bird glances over at Elvis as he drives. His jaw is clenched and shoulders upright. Although his arm is draped lazily across the steering wheel, his fingers are constantly moving, curling and uncurling. His hair has fallen over his forehead in thick clumps and the wind is blowing the flaps of his pink lace shirt open and closed over his chest. Her eyes absentmindedly trace down the fabric and land on his chest. This is the first time the two of them have been alone since that day. The tension is too much for her body to sit still.

Bird turns over her shoulder, seeing the black car still following them. She feels like she should speak up and say something but isn't sure how to begin. Elvis turns onto Beale Street and her mouth drops slightly open as she looks around. There’s nothing particularly special about the area, but it’s busy. There’s an energy around that she can’t describe. It just feels…electric, alive. She turns around again on her knees to look around.

“So this is Beale Street, huh? Where you always run off to,” she mutterr to herself, but apparently loud enough for him to hear her.

She gulps hard after speaking, not realizing fully that this is the first time either of them has spoken to the other. Besides the occasional 'excuse me' or 'sorry' mutters while navigating the house.

“You ain’t never been down here?” he asks but continues before she gets a chance to respond. “No, why would ya, a girl like you?”

She ignores his rude comment and responds, “No, I haven’t. But I like it a whole lot.”

She's staring up at the bright flashing signs on the buildings and smiles when she hears music spilling out of one of the open windows. Club Handy, the sign out front says. Elvis pulls into a parking spot on the street.

“It’s a good place. People here are good people. It reminds me of home.”

She feels her heart ache at his words. He frantically grabs his jacket, looking like he’s about to blast out of the car. Her hands fly to the handle of the door, about to open it, when she notices him freeze. He closes his eyes, clenches his jaw, and breathes deeply. His eyelashes are dark and long as they flutter closed. She wants nothing more than to feel them tickle her cheekbones as he kisses her lips. She considers reaching out to touch him but she can’t bring herself to. How dare she touch him after what she did…

“Are you okay?” she basically whispers it.

He shrugs aggressively, throwing the door open and exiting the car. He mumbles a 'fine' before she hops out of the car to follow his lead. She sticks to his side as a crowd of people begins to gather around the car. She glances up at him, sure that this isn’t what he wants right now, but powerless to stop the horde of people closing in on her.

“EP!”

Both of their heads shoot up in the direction of the shout. Elvis’ eyes light up as he waves to a man sticking his head out of a window.

“B.B.!”

Bird's eyes go wide. B.B…B.B. King?

Elvis has turned around to sign some autographs while making his way through the crowd. Bird's getting pushed back but she reaches out and grabs tightly onto Elvis’ lace shirt.

“Hey, what’re ya-”

His shocked expression quickly changes to one of irritation when he whips around to see her grasping onto him.

“Don’t rip my shirt,” is all he says and she nods.

She frantically follows him around the street but every time he tries to go into a building, the crowd of people assembles to stop him. Bird notices an open space and pulls on Elvis' shirt, trying to drag him in that direction.

“What is wrong with ya?” he says angrily.

“I’m tryin to help,” she responds, yanking him. “Go this way.”

But in the time she spends trying to convince him to follow her, another crowd has gathered. He pulls away from her to shrug his jacket on and she loses her grip on him. She stumbles back and gets lost in the crowd, surging forward. She can still see him but she's drowning in a sea of people she doesn't know, faces she doesn't recognize. She watches as a young woman presses a kiss onto Elvis' lips, and Bird's gut drops like a brick into the ocean. She awkwardly turns to try and get back to the car. She decides to just wait there, but someone grasps harshly onto her wrist. She whirls back around.

“C'mon,” Elvis says, his angry expression is back, making her heart lurch.

She doesn't necessarily enjoy his anger when it’s directed at her. But the fact that he’s grasping her wrist instead of anyone else’s is making her body feel hot. She suddenly realizes that everyone in the crowd is probably wondering who she is. Elvis drags her into the building and the doors slam behind them. He releases her wrist, and she peers around the dark hallway. Elvis hugs the man who let them into the building, the man who, now looking at him, Bird's pretty sure is B.B. King.

“It’s damn good to see ya, EP. What the hell you doin up here tonight?”

“Goddamn it, B.B. There’s so much happenin, with mama goin on bout the hound dog and the Colonel’s got me wearin tails and everybody wants somethin different, I-”

“Hey, listen,” B.B. says, grabbing his shoulders. “If you’re sad and you wanna be sad, you’re at the right place. If you’re happy and you wanna be happy? Guess what, you’re at the right place. So just do me a favor, let it all hang out. Let it all hang out, EP!”

“Let it all hang out,” Elvis agrees.

B.B.’s eyes flick behind Elvis and finally latch onto her, as she awkwardly stands still with her fingers intertwined in front of her.

“And who’s this lovely lady?” he asks, taking her hand to press a chaste kiss to it. She smiles bashfully.

“This is Birdie,” Elvis responds, avoiding her eyes, “my neighbor.”

“B.B. King, nice to meet you,” B.B. responds. Bird smiles.

“Oh, I know who y'are. Elvis talks about ya all the time.”

“Does he now? And did he drag you all the way up here with him just to meet me?”

“No, I did not drag her up here,” Elvis responds, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

Bird gulps. Suddenly, two girls come crashing through the hallway, hanging onto each other and laughing.

“B.B.! How you doin baby?” one of them asks through a fit of giggles. “Oh, my, and the Elvis Presley. I thought you was too big to be comin up here anymore.”

“Never,” he replies and Bird despises the way Elvis smirks at her, looking the woman up and down. The other girl mindlessly stumbles away, leaving just the three of them in the hallway.

“Dolores, this is Birdie, Elvis’ friend,” B.B. says, gesturing toward her. Bird gives her a small smile and the woman returns a genuine one.

“This your first time down here on Beale Street?”

Bird nods, wondering what gives her away so easily.

“What’re ya here for? The music? I know Elvis is,” Dolores says, throwing a sexy smile in Elvis’ direction. Bird's heart thuds in her chest but she swallows the lump in her throat.

“I’m just here to absorb as much as I can. Maybe do some dancin? I’m ain't too sure.”

“Well you can dance and absorb all you want, hunny, but you ain’t wearin that inside,” Dolores says, gesturing at Bird's outfit.

She glances down at her checked skirt and yellow sweater, suddenly feeling like a massive prude.

“W-what’s wrong with it?”

Dolores gives her a disgusted face but shrugs.

“Well there ain’t nothin wrong with it, per se. But it just ain’t the kinda thing you wear to a club like Club Handy. We gotta get you into somethin else. Shopping time! Come on, baby, let’s get you set up.”

Dolores grabs her hand and starts to drag her along.

“We’ll be back, gentleman. Enjoy ya fellas time,” she says, waving as they head out.

Bird has never been around a woman with so much force before. Not force in a bad way, but in a way that makes her feel powerful and in control. That isn’t a feeling she's used to. Most of her friends at home are like little flowers, always doing what they’re told and never going out for any reason other than to attend Church or visit the library. Dolores pulls Bird out of the building and across the street. She notices that the crowd has dispersed completely now, although the streets are still busy. They approach a dress shop with low lighting.

“Uh…is it still open? It’s quite late,” Bird says, never having heard of a late-night dress shop.

“Of course it’s still open! What if somebody needed a dress late at night, just like we do right now?” Dolores asks.

They walk into the shop together and Bird's eyes bulge out of her head. The dresses are gorgeous but nothing like she's ever seen before. They are short, tight, and sparkly all over. She can’t help but let her mouth fall open as she glances around at the bold colors adorning the walls and mannequins. This store is teeming with potential, but for a girl like her?

“Mama Ray! Are you in here?” Dolores yells.

A middle-aged black woman comes out from the back, smiling sweetly.

“Dolores, baby, it’s good to see you again! Come in, come in! What d’ya need, girl?”

“We need a dress for this girl right here,” Dolores says smoothly. “Somethin worthy of a dance night at Club Handy. Somethin for a girl tryna get a man all hot and bothered, you know.”

“Ooh, girl! Come here, then, lemme see ya,” Mama Ray says and Bird steps toward her, feeling heat creep into her cheeks.

Mama Ray circles her like a hawk, looking up and down at Bird's angles and curves. She rubs a finger on her chin, grabbing a few samples of colors and holding them up to your cheeks.

“Aha, that’s the one,” she says finally, pulling a deep sparkly black hue. “I got one in the back in this fabric that you should try.”

She disappears around the corner and Dolores leans against the checkout counter, playing with her immaculate nails.

“So how long have you been in love with Elvis?” she asks without skipping a beat, even though her statement makes Bird's heart skip about a hundred beats.

“What?” she sputters.

“Oh come on, sugar. I’m not blind. Any damn body can tell by the way you look at him that you’ve got the hots for him.”

She looks over at Dolores, about to protest again, but the woman's kind eyes make Bird want to confide in her. Besides, even if she did tell her the truth, she didn’t think Dolores would actually believe one word she says. Bird sighs deeply and nods.

“A long time, Dolores,” she replies. “We were goin together back when he was stayin in Louisiana, but…”

Bird waves her hand dismissively.

“Well it don't much matter now.”

“What the hell do you mean it don't matter?”

“We broke up. It was messy. It’s over.”

“It don’t have to be,” she says. “You just gotta show him what he’s missin.”

Bird's head snaps to attention as Mama Ray comes out from the back with the long sparkling dress. She holds it out for Bird and she disappears behind the curtains of the dressing room. She drops her head into her hands for a moment, breathing deeply.

How did she get herself into this mess?

She undresses and gently tries to pull the black dress on. It takes her a minute to figure out exactly how it’s supposed to fit. She's never worn anything like it in her life. She shrugs, holding two pieces of fabric in front of her face.

She exits the dressing room, holding the straps like they’re fragile baby birds. Dolores laughs as soon as she sees her and beckons her over.

“You didn’t even look at yourself, did ya?” she asks, maneuvering Bird over to a mirror. “That ain’t how you wear it. Lemme help ya.”

Bird leans away from her for a moment, trying to resist, but Dolores is too willful. And before Bird knows it, she's standing in front of herself. Except the person looking at the mirror is not the same one peering back through the glass. Dolores’ fingers daintily and expertly maneuver the portions of the dress around until it looks much more natural. She steps back and Bird's mouth drops open for a moment at the sight of herself. The dress is skin-tight, hugging all of her curves in the right places.

The top is crossed at the neck, leaving a hole where her cleavage is clearly visible. Another strap winds around her throat like a choker and it has a gem that draws attention to her jawline. She feels regal and elegant. She can also see that it leaves the entire top half of her back uncovered. The way it hugs her hips and then falls into grand drapes makes her look taller and older. She touches a hand to her chest, shocked by the sight of herself.

“Ooh, hot mama!” Dolores shouts, clapping her hands. She takes a turn around her body, pinching and tucking parts of the dress to see how it fits her. “Damn that fits you good. He ain’t gonna be able to take his eyes off of you.”

“That dress was made for ya, honey,” Mama Ray agrees, nodding her head. “In fact…I’ll sell it to ya for half off cause it looks so good on ya.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I have plenty to-”

“I said what I said.”

Bird shuts her mouth, reaching into her purse to grab what little cash she has stuffed away in there.

“Try these on, too,” she says, sliding a pair of high-heeled black pumps across the counter. 

With Dolores’ help, she steps into them.

“How do ya feel?” Dolores asks.

“Uh…not like myself.”

“Nah, baby, that’s the point,” Dolores says, placing her hands on Bird's shoulders. “The real you is scared, too frightened to be bold and make a move on the man you want. This you, well she’s strong. She’s brave. Pretend like you’re someone else. Embrace this new version of you and make up a whole new name for yourself. Who do you wanna be?”

“Bird,” she says without skipping a beat. “Elvis always calls me 'Lil Birdie'. He even introduced me to you as Birdie but that's ain't my name. I ain't no little birdie, anymore."

[ -> "Tupelo Shuffle" ]

“No you ain’t, hunny. But one last thing before we go get you your man,” Dolores says, reaching up to untie the ribbon holding her hair up into a ponytail. Bird breathes deeply as the hair falls down and tickles her neck and ears. Dolores fluffs it up then turns her around to look at herself before speaking.

“He has no idea what’s comin.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Bird and Dolores run, giggling, across the street back to Club Handy. Bird is terrified to move in the tight dress for fear of breaking it, but the more she shifts the more comfortable she gets. By the time she's running up the stairs of the club she's moving like a regular pro, looking elegant and sexy while she does so. As she climbs the stairs, quite a few men whistle and compliment her. She smiles bashfully and fluffs her hair up. Dolores stops her right outside the door, grabbing her hands.

“Alright now,” she says. “Don’t forget who you are tonight, Bird. Be confident, be sexy, and most of all be a tease.”

She winks and she nods, instinctively pulling her into a hug. She chuckles and hugs her back.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Dolores swings the door open and music floods into the hallway. They both step in, feeling energized and buzzing with nerves. The music is fast-paced and loud, the room smells deeply of smoke and cologne. She takes a big whiff, feeling emboldened by the strength of the scent. She looks around for a moment, spotting Elvis talking to B.B. in a corner. He hasn’t noticed her yet since he’s bent over with a relaxed smile. It’s a smile she hasn't seen in quite a while and one she's desperately missed. She's jealous, wishing she had been the one to make him smile like that.

“I might need a little liquid courage,” Bird says and Dolores nods with a mischievous smile.

They walk together over to the bar and order two whiskeys. Bird starts to drink hers but sputters, spitting some out. She feels her face grow hot with embarrassment but, luckily, everyone’s attention is focused on the young man singing at the front of the room.

“Now that ain’t cool. Is Bird the type of woman who can’t hold her liquor?” Dolores asks, staring her down. She clears her throat and shakes her head stiffly.

“Hell no she’s ain't,” she responds, pouring the rest of her drink down her throat like she'd seen Mrs. Presley do a time or two before. It burns her esophagus and tears well up in her eyes but channeling Bird helps her blink them away.

Whether it’s just her being a lightweight and drinking for the first time or the strength of the whiskey or her brain making things up, she feels emboldened and maybe a little drunk already? She smiles confidently and hooks her arm over Dolores’ elbow. Both women saunter over to where Elvis and B.B. King are sitting.

“Well, hi there, boys!” Dolores says, her voice like velvet.

She points her chin up as much as she can, elongating her neck. Elvis starts to look up with a smile, but it fades quickly when he finally sees her. She stares back directly, refusing to back down. She's tired of running away and the courage from the liquor buzzing in her brain helps her do what she's wanted to do for the last few months.

His eyes slowly, agonizingly trace down her figure, around every inch of her body. She can see him taking in everything she's putting out, including the cleavage in the middle of her chest. She feels sexier than ever with his eyes landing on her like that and it makes her even more confident. When his eyes return to hers, they are black with lust. His lips are parted and she can see him practically panting for her. She relaxes her body, sticking her hip out to place her palm on it sassily. She's daring him to want her.

“Damn. Lil Birdie, I-”

“My name ain't Birdie, tonight,” she cuts him off. “Tonight I’m just Bird.”

She can see the confusion turn into recognition in his eyes as she speaks the words. His eyebrows furrow and she catches a glimmer of sadness in them.

“Well, Bird, how was your shopping trip?” B.B asks, a mischievous smile on his face.

“Oh I’d say it was very successful,” Dolores responds. “Wouldn’t you, B.B.? I mean just look at this dress Mama Ray pulled out for Bird.”

“Oh I’d say it was a success, alright,” B.B. agrees and Bird notices his eyes trailing up and down her figure as well. He pulls out the chair next to him. Bird glances at Dolores who raises her eyebrow and she understands.

She saunters in front of Dolores to sit down next to B.B. and leans forward in the chair. She rests her elbows on the table, feeling Elvis’ eyes track her every movement and loving every single second of it. She stares intently at B.B. with a little smile festering on her face.

“So, this is my first time on Beale Street,” she starts, tracing the top of a whiskey glass on the table with her finger. "It’s pretty different from where I live.”

“Yeah? Is different bad?”

“Oh no. Different is good. Really good. This place feels like everythin I been missing,” she responds. “The cars are fast, clothes are fine, and the men? Well…”

[ -> "Do You Love Me" ]

She lets her finger fall down from the whiskey glass onto B.B.'s fingers, lightly tracing across them. As they stare into each others' eyes, the music changes to something energetic but sensual. B.B. stands and offers her his hand.

“Would you like to dance, Bird?”

She smiles and stretches her arm out in response, dropping her fingers into his. He pulls her up and after him onto the dancefloor. As she walks by Elvis’ chair, she makes sure to ‘accidentally’ drag her fingers along his shoulders. She barely feels him shudder under her touch for a quick moment before B.B. has her on the dancefloor.

Bird's only ever danced a formal waltz and a little shimmy here and there, but nothing like the gyrating hips and quick feet she sees around her. She lets B.B. take the lead and he pulls her close as she strings her arms over his shoulders.

“Now I know you aren’t wearing that dress for me,” B.B. whispers in her ear as their hips sway together. “Or anybody else in this building except for one person.”

“I don’t know what ya mean, B.B.”

He just nods at Elvis, who’s still tracking her every move with his deep blue eyes. She glances around for Dolores and finds her giggling in the corner with a handsome man.

“It’s really that obvious?" she asks and then sighs deeply. This is the second time tonight someone has commented on her — apparently obvious — infatuation with Elvis. 

“Pretty obvious,” B.B. replies. “Maybe not to some people, but as a man I can tell when a woman is trying to turn someone on. Chicks don’t wear dresses like this for no reason. But I think I can help ya.”

“I welcome it. Elvis hates me,” she replies. “We had a messy breakup and things have never been the same.”

“Sometimes that's how things go, but it doesn’t mean they’ve gotta stay that way,” B.B. responds, gripping her hip firmly onto him.

Bird doesn’t feel any sexual attraction toward B.B., but if she did it would be over for her. He certainly knows how to hold a woman tenderly in all the right places.

“Arch your back just a little.”

She follows his directions, making sure to emphasize her ass and chest. As B.B. turns her around, she makes eye contact with Elvis. His finger is dragging along his bottom lip, pulling it out, and his eyes are focused on her totally, completely, unwavering. She holds his gaze and cuddles closer to B.B., turning her head to brush her lips gently against B.B.’s ear.

“You’re an evil genius,” B.B. laughs. “He’ll hate that.”

This time when B.B. swirls her around, she purposefully avoids Elvis’ eyes, knowing he’s looking for her. She's like a toddler on a carousel with an attentive parent watching her every turn around the circle. Just as she laughs at something B.B. says, the song ends and another, less dance-worthy tune heats up.

“I could use another drink. Buy me one?” she asks B.B. and he nods, taking her hand and leading her to the bar.

She orders another whiskey, downs it fast, and feels immediately blurred. But she loves it. It’s all according to her plan as she walks back to the table. B.B. pulls her chair out for her, placing her directly between him and Elvis. Bird smirks as she takes her seat and throws her head back to shake out her hair. She can feel Elvis' eyes burning holes through her clothes, but she turns away from him toward B.B. and gets back to chatting, making sure to laugh at all of B.B.’s jokes.

After a while, most of the people in the club have left, and there’s only a handful still milling around. The lights have been dimmed down and tables emptied as the last few guests crowd onto the dancefloor. She's on her third whiskey when she realizes that, at some point, Elvis and B.B. had gone out to the balcony to talk. So, it’s just her left at the table, with Dolores hanging about somewhere. She's started to lose track of time and everything moves in slow motion, blurred and relaxed.

[ -> "Fever" ]

When the song changes again, she finds herself stretching up from her seated place, drawn to the dancefloor. She makes sure to sway her hips even though Elvis is nowhere to be found. She positions herself near one of the windows, mostly hidden from others, where she can do her thing and only be noticed by a few people, most of all the one she wants to notice her.

She slowly reaches her arms up into the air and begins to sway her hips around in time with the music. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, letting the music flow through her veins and direct her body. She feels connected, at peace, and utterly in love with herself. She can feel that she's irresistible right now and everyone has their eyes on her.

With her eyes closed, she's completely disoriented. Suddenly, hands are on her waist, gripping the skin, and hot breath is ghosting over her neck. Her eyes fly open and she tilts her head. She would know the touch of those hands anywhere.

“Can I help you,” she mumbles.

Elvis chuckles breathily as one of his hands slides its way onto her abdomen, while the other sneaks down toward her heat. Her hand flies up to stop him, gripping his fingers and moving them back up to a respectable place.

“Uh, uh, uh,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t get dirty with men who don’t deserve it.”

She resists a shudder as his lips tickle her ear. He presses his body against her backside and she lets her arms drape back onto his shoulders. She sways her ass into him and feels his member twitch. She smirks as his grip on her stomach tightens, squeezing the breath from her body. Her eyes close again and she tilts her neck to the side. Her heart rate increases with every hot breath he blows on her neck. Just as his lips brush the tender skin there, the song ends abruptly.

It takes everything in her, but she won’t give him the satisfaction. She pushes away from his body, untangling herself despite his best efforts to hold on. Fixing her dress and hair, she returns to the table to finish her drink. She feels his eyes on her figure as she slinks away, sitting down and dumping the rest of her whiskey down her throat like a pro. She lets the unpleasant sensation ripple through her body, shivering, and turns with a drunken smile toward B.B. She opens her mouth to say something flirty, but-

“Get up,” Elvis’ voice is raspy and deep as he mutters into her ear.

She whips around, about to tell him to fuck off but when she sees his expression she falters. His eyes are angrier than she's ever seen them, almost black in the dim lights of the club. There’s something about his intense gaze that’s unhinged, animalistic. It scares her and also arouses her, so she smiles briefly at B.B. and gets up from her seat. As soon as she stands, Elvis grabs onto her bicep and ushers her into the hallway. He swings her outside and she roughly pulls back on his grasp.

“Hey, go easy, ya brute,” she spits, managing to rip herself away from him. She smoothes down her dress. “What the hell is thi-”

“What the fuck do ya think you’re doing?” he hisses, grabbing her arm again.

“Excuse me?” she hisses back. “I haven’t done nothin to you. Let go of me, ya asshole.”

She wiggles in his fingers but his arm slams loudly onto the wall by her head. It prevents her from going anywhere, pinning her between a wall and a hard place. She looks at him with widened eyes.

“Let me leave, Elvis,” she says, genuinely a little scared now. “I wanna go home.”

She ducks under his arm but it slips off the wall and wraps itself around her wrist. She flails her arms from side to side and even tries to thump his chest a few times but he only holds on tighter. As she struggles, he backs her up, slamming her against the wall. She shudders in a sense of alarm, which is quickly turning into delight. He presses himself up against her, clenching his jaw. Every part of his body touches her, except in the place where she needs him most. He stretches her arms up, pinning them above her head and bears down on her. She smirks, chuckling silently.

“What’s wrong, EP? Can’t take the heat?” she breathily whispers and flashes her teeth as she bites at the air like an untamed horse.

Who is this person and what are they saying? she thinks to herself.

Whatever she did works, though, because he audibly growls and presses her wrists harder into the wall.

“Why are ya doin this to me?” he demands, pressing into her.

She resists the urge to moan or groan, neglecting her body’s most primal needs. Her leg twitches, tingling to wrap itself against him, but she resists with every fiber of her being.

“Doin what?” she replies with a voice much stronger than she feels.

She leans into the air between them, challenging him to answer. They both breathe heavily, knowing what they want but refusing to give in. She watches as his eyes fall down to her breasts and then back up to her eyes. She feels him hard against her thigh but she clamps her teeth together.

“You know damn well what ya doin, Lil Birdie.”

“Just Bird. I’m ain't little anymore, Elvis. You’ll call me Bird.”

His eyes flash angrily for a moment and she gulps before the lusty glaze returns. He continues through clenched teeth. She decides to play coy, knowing it’ll drive him wild.

“And I have no idea what ya talkin about,” she says, strategically letting her leg slide up his body and hook onto his hips. She watches his eyes follow the movement. He says nothing, and she knows it’s because he can’t.

“Is it…things like this,” she angles her head toward his bare forearm, dragging her tongue across the skin, tasting the salt of his body. “Is that what I’m doin?”

He groans again and she can see his jaw clenching roughly. It’s taking everything in him not to pounce on her.

“Goddamn it. I swear to god, Lil Birdie, if you don’t stop this right now,” he growls through gritted teeth.

“What? What are ya gonna do about it, king?”

They stare at each other for a moment. There is almost no light in the hallway; the only shadows in the room come from the blinking lights of the street signs outside. She can smell the lingering scent of smoke on Elvis’ clothes. A creeping smirk is pasted on her face, and his chest rises and falls rapidly with labored breathing. Already tired of waiting, she flexes her leg on his hip, pushing his member against her.

His lips crash onto hers, pushing her head flush against the wall. She curls her fingers above her head, arching her back to press her body harder against his. His grip is firm on her wrists and it aches but she welcomes the pain. He’s kissing her frantically, desperately, hotly all over. There’s no chance for either of them to breathe. Every time he finishes a kiss, he goes straight back for another one. His hair is getting messy, falling into their faces and tickling her skin. She bites his bottom lip and he forces his tongue into her mouth.

As he assaults her lips, she squeezes him with her leg, and he responds immediately by pressing himself against her and pulling back before repeating. She moans quietly into his plump lips, and he groans in response. He starts to get into a rhythm and she feels herself growing warmer by the minute. Her stomach is twisting and turning, demanding more contact. His lips slip off hers and trail hot, wet kisses down her neck. He bites and sucks harshly on the skin, and she moans louder at the pleasure that shockwaves through her body. He manages to bite a sweet spot on her neck at the exact moment his hips thrust between their clothed bodies and she can’t help herself. His name flies out in a moan through her lips.

“No…” he growls.

Suddenly the air around her is devastatingly cold. Her leg falls to the ground with a thud and her arms follow. They hang limp at her sides as she struggles for breath. Elvis has pushed himself off of her and is standing at the opposite end of the hallway, breathless and disheveled. Bird looks at him from across the way, feeling tears start to well up in her eyes. She's frozen, this time with real fear. Not of his anger but of losing him again. Despite the fuzziness of the booze from earlier, she feels soberer than ever now. Elvis makes eye contact with her, biting his tongue with his teeth. He laughs, but something is off. It’s not a happy laugh or even a lusty one. It’s disturbed, sadistic almost, as if he couldn’t even believe he’d let himself be manipulated by little old Birdie. He glares back at her and even in the dim lights, she can see that his eyes are glassy. He shakes his head and then sprints down the stairs.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

It takes jer a second to gather her breath and to push the tears back into her eyes, even though her face won’t unscrew itself from the emotional pain. She wipes a straggling tear away as she bounds down the stairs after him. When she hits the bottom step, she pauses for a moment to quickly tear off her shoes to move faster. They are starting to hurt her feet, anyway. She runs outside to see him climbing into the car.

All of the lights along the street have either been turned off or dimmed, and there is almost no one left in the streets or buildings. The spotlights shine with hazy lights that reflect the moisture on the roads. In the distance, she hears the familiar sound of Elvis’ car starting — or trying to.  For some reason, the engine sputters and the car stalls. By the time it’s finished hissing, her fingers are clutching onto the side of the convertible again.

“Goddamnit!” he screams, slamming his palms against the steering wheel.

His forehead follows, banging onto the wheel. She doesn't get into the car, unsure of what to do. She wants to hold him, tell him everything will be alright, stroke his hair. But everything is so awkward between them. Something in the universe doesn’t want them to be together. Not without a struggle, at least.

“Get in,” he mutters dryly. “I’ll take ya home.”

She keeps quiet and climbs into the car. Elvis patiently starts it and the engine revs to life just fine. He whips out of the space and starts driving home. She can’t bring herself to say anything. Not even when she notices that he’s taken a wrong turn. Not even when she's been driving for twenty minutes even though Graceland is only ten minutes away. Not even when the houses and cars start to become fewer and far between. The way he expertly navigates each turn suggests to her that he already knows it isn’t the way home. She knows she should be scared since she has no idea where he’s taking her. He could be kidnapping her for all she knows.

But nothing in her could care that much. She is with him and, truthfully, that’s all she cares about. Once they reach a dark, nature-filled area, he pulls over into the grass.

She hasn't had much time to go exploring around Memphis since Gladys has kept her pretty busy working at the house, but she can tell that they're in some kind of park. It’s incredibly dark, but the headlights cast beams of yellow onto the scene. And the pale blue light of the moon adds an eerie but calming contrast as its glimmers reflect off the small body of water below you. You crane your neck to look up at the white wafer in the sky and Elvis stops the car.

The weather can not be better for being outside. The heavy, humid air is still warm but as the wind gently blows off the lake, it hits her skin, chilled, and balances out to the perfect temperature. She can hear crickets chirping and rustling leaves in the wind. Sitting here surrounded by the perfect weather and calming atmosphere of the park, she feels a sense of calmness like she's never experienced before.

“I don’t understand ya,” Elvis finally says in a monotone voice. No feeling in his tone, whatsoever.

She turns to him but says nothing, waiting for him to explain.

“I give you everythin and you reject it,” he continues. “Then outta nowhere, you want it all back. I-I don’t understand it.”

Bird still says nothing, feeling her forehead crease as it tries to prevent the tears from forming.

“Do ya have any idea what I’ve been goin through?” he asks, his voice rising. She finally looks him in the eyes with desperate fear.

“You destroyed me, Birdie. Wrecked me completely,” he says, his eyes glassy in the darkness. “I didn’t know what to do with myself. I woke up every single damn day and wondered what the goddamn point uh life was if you ain’t here with me. Nothin felt right. Everythin was empty, even my music. I felt so goddamn alone. Like nobody was there for me. Like nobody fuckin cared, I mean really cared, bout me.”

“Then why d'ya do it?” she interjects, whispering loudly. She shakes her head and leans toward him. “Why did you come to me that day? We coulda done this. Together.”

“I did what I had to do,” he replies. “I thought…I thought it was the right thing to do. What I had to do.”

“How could you possibly think it was right, when it felt so, so wrong?”

“I was jus lookin out for my career, aright,” he’s shouting now. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doin! Everybody wants something goddamn different, and I don’t know how I’m ‘posed to please everybody. Mama wants one thing, the Colonel wants another, and then there’s you and…I just don’t know what the fuck you want. I think ya love me and then you leave me out to dry.”

“I didn’t mean to, Elvis!” she shouts back. “I just…I was so angry with ya. For breakin my heart, for dumpin me like I was extra baggage!”

The tears start to spill out of her eyes and her voice shakes and cracks.

“And I could tell that it was hurtin you and that it wasn’t what you wanted. So, the fact that you continued to lie to me…Elvis, it was breakin me into pieces. I trusted ya, even though everybody I know told me not to. I did. I trusted ya and, in that moment, you lied to me for no good reason other than to hurt me. You proved all those people right, and I didn’t know what to believe.”

“Listen,” he snapped, holding up a finger. “I never, ever meant to hurt ya. But don’t act like the innocent party here. I gave ya a chance. I put everythin out there for ya and you threw it all in the garbage.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean to, I-”

“You know I didn’t have to fuckin say that to ya! Specially not when I’ve got girls throwin themselves at me left and right. I could have any damn woman I want. Temptation’s everywhere - and then here you fuckin go again in that goddamn dress tonight,” he cut himself off. “Puttin everything out there, gettin all up close with B.B. Everybody’s fuckin lookin at ya, wantin ya. Torturing me. Puttin me through hell and for what?! So you can win? So you can punish me? For what, Bird?!!”

“No!” she screams through clenched teeth.

“Fuck! You’re so damn infuriatin!” he yells, curling his fingers up like he’s squashing her head between them. “I told you that I fuckin loved ya, and you said nothing! Not a damn thing. You let me walk outta there thinkin that you didn’t give a damn bout me. Then you show up here workin with my mama, my fucking mother, behind my back. I wanted you outta my life and here you go again back in it. And now you just won't fuckin leave me alone! You won’t let me go down to Beale Street to cool myself off! You just always gotta be in the fuckin middle of it all!”

“I’m just tryna protect you! You were scarin me, Elvis! I thought maybe you were gonna hurt yourself or somethin, the way you tore outta there. I just want ya to be happy, damn it! And I can help! Why won’t you just let me in? I can help you!”

“Because I don’t want you to have to deal with all this! The colonel is the best chance I got. I gotta support my family, cause I ain’t gonna let 'em get into a situation like that ever again. I know I can be great and make a difference in this shit world. But I can’t do that on my own. I need help, and he’s gonna help me. He’s the only one who can, so I gotta trust him.”

“Fine!” she yells, throwing her hands up. “But why won’t you just admit that he told ya to break up with me?! I know he did. That’s all I wanted, Elvis! I just wanted to hear the truth from your lips. I didn’t wanna be lied to!”

“Yes! Alright, yes! He did advise me to break up with you! But his advice ain’t the only reason! I want you outta my life! I want you somewhere safe where you don’t gotta deal with none of this shit! All these people, th-these women, throwin themselves on me all the time! Hangin round my house! Callin my goddamn phone! All these cameras and photographers takin pictures of me every time I fuckin breathe. I didn’t wanna put ya through all that. It ain’t fair to ya!”

“Well,” she says weakly, her bottom lip starting to tremble. “Then I guess I’ll leave if ya want me to. The only reason I was here anyway is because ya mama asked me to come but I can go tomorrow. I’ll move back to Louisiana and live with Daddy.”

“No. See that’s the worst fucking thing bout it,” he continues. “I don’t want you to leave at all. Not even a little bit.”

They're both leaning into each other, their faces half angry and half sad. Both of their eyes are brimming with tears. Their faces are close without touching. Bird doesn’t know what to say to him, so her eyes desperately search his instead.

“I want you here all the damn time. I think about ya every second of every day,” he continues, reaching up to touch her cheek. “I want you every second of every day. Damn it, Lil Birdie, you have no fuckin idea how badly I wanted to rip this dress off ya body and have my way with ya right there. How badly I wanna touch ya, feel ya, make ya feel good, hear how ya scream my name.”

She closes her eyes, leaning into his hand and biting her lip.

“And it ain’t jus that. I love bein with ya, talkin to ya. Everything about you draws me in. It’s like a trap. But I can’t keep doin this with ya. It’s like one day you want me and when I come too close, you push me away. And I jus don’t think…that I can be around ya if you don’t love me back. Because…Lil Birdie, I ain’t ever loved anyone or anythin as much as I love you. With my entire being. Everythin that I am. And bein around you…it just hurts too damn much.”

His voice starts to crack at the end of the sentence and he drops his head. She hears him sniff and notices his shoulders lightly shaking. All of her uncomfortable tingles fall away, and she quickly moves closer to him to rest her palms on the sides of his face. She lifts it to see his eyes underneath the dark night sky. Tears are streaming down his cheeks but she hurriedly wipes them away.

“No, no, no, no. Oh, Elvis, I didn’t mean to…I didn’t want any of this. I never meant to hurt ya I just don’t trust the Colonel, that’s all. He’s a manipulator, just like my daddy can be. I know it cause I see the same things in him that I see in my own daddy. All he’ll do is hurt ya and ruin ya. And I can’t,” she gets choked up,” I can’t take that.”

“It doesn't matter none. Nunna this does if you don’t love me anyhow,” he quietly breathes out. She sniffs hard and looks up at the moon and stars, trying to will her emotions into subservience.

“I…I didn’t say it before cause I was afraid, okay?” she whispers. The tears fall silently down her face now, staining her skin. “The last person I said it to was my mama, right before she died. And I haven't said it to nobody else since then, cause…”

She loses her voice, both embarrassed and afraid of the secret words she has never voiced to anyone other than herself.

“Cause what?” he asks, looking up at her with glossy eyes.

“Nothin. It’s stupid,” she replies, pinching the bridge of her nose. He pries her fingers loose and tilts her chin toward him.

“There ain’t nothin you could ever say to me that’s stupid. Talk to me, baby.”

His sweet blue eyes always hold so much passion and when they're trained on her, it feels like she's the most expensive object in the world. The only one worth looking at. She takes a shaky breath.

“Well, the thing is, ya see, my mama was real sick. On her deathbed sick, and I went to visit her at the hospital and I…well I told her that I loved her. And she jus…” the tears start streaming again. “She jus died! Right there! Right after I’d said it…I can’t never say it again, Elvis. I’m terrified that it’s gonna…th-that I’m gonna…”

“Kill someone?”

She winces in pain as she tries to hold back her tears.

“I told ya it was stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid, baby,” he says, moving to cup her cheek. “No, it ain’t stupid. And I’m sorry if I pressured ya, I just didn’t know.”

“How could ya? I never told nobody. Not even daddy. This is the first time I’ve ever said it out loud, actually.”

He scoots as close to her as he can with the gear shift between them and strokes both of her cheeks with his thumbs.

“I know you care bout me. That much is obvious, specially since I know you didn’t come all the way up here to help my mama in the kitchen,” he says, smiling. She releases a sad laugh. “That’s more of a nightmare than a dream. And I can feel it in the way you look at me. I can tell. But if you ain’t ready to say it, I ain’t gonna make ya. I just…I would really like it if…can we try again?”

She looks at him in the moonlight. His hair is disheveled, pushed back onto his head and tangled. He looks so incredibly handsome in the pale moonlight as it casts soft, hazy shadows over his features.

“Please, Lil Birdie, can we try again?”

Bird nods. He offers a small smile, bringing her head to his lips to kiss her forehead gently. She closes her eyes and eagerly accepts it. When he pulls back, he releases her and turns back around in his seat. She stays put, gazing at him in the moonlight again as he leans his head back against the seat and heaves a big breath. He looks more relaxed, but his lips are pressed into a straight line.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Gathering what energy she has left, she climbs out of the car and walks around to his side. She holds out her hand, silently, nudging his finger with hers. He glances over at her with sad eyes and she speaks.

“Dance with me.”

She means to ask him but it comes out more like a command.

“We ain’t got no music,” he mumbles. She leans over him in the car, flicking on the radio and punching a few different stations until she lands on one with a slow song. “Cry to Me” by Solomon Burke.

[ -> Cry to Me ]

“Now what’s your excuse?” she asks.

He says nothing.

“Dance with me, Elvis.”

She wiggles her fingers and he glances up before reaching for her hand. She pops open the door to the car and he swings his legs out, standing up. After he straightens up, she has to glance up at him. She drags him in front of the car, the headlights casting shadows of their bodies onto the grass canvas behind them. Bird carefully moves her hands to his chest, stepping closer to him. His arms weakly wind around her waist and lay limp on her hips. When she looks up to see his chin pointed down, she slides a few fingers underneath it and raises his eyes up to yours. He looks soft, sweet, and subdued staring down at her. She begins to sway from side to side, gently and intimately.

She slides her hands up his chest and pulls him close to her, winding her arms up and around his neck. She slides your fingers onto the nape of his neck, gingerly yanking on the tuft of hair at the bottom of his head. His head slowly tilts back in acceptance of her touch. She feels his arms strengthen, pulling her closer, and he lowers his forehead to hers. She sways her hips against him to the rhythm of the music and slowly starts to lean her head back. His grip on her waist tightens as she bends the top half of her body all the way back, hinging at the waist like she'd watched a few women do at the club. When she comes back up to him, she runs your hands over the soft lace of his pink top, taking in all the texture you can. She nods her face up, brushing her lips softly against his. His eyes close and she hears his deep breaths as he grips onto what little fabric of her dress he can clutch.

“You made me a promise once,” Bird whispers against his lips.

“Nah, it ain’t right,” he responds, shaking his head. And She knows he remembers what he’d promised her on the lake.

“And breakin a promise is?” she asks, pulling back to look into his eyes.

She winds her whole arm around his shoulders, and he supports her back as he dips her in a circle. When he pulls her back up, his arms travel up her back, his hands clutching onto her shoulders. Somehow, he manages to pull her even further into him. Their bodies are pressed together again, just like they had been at the club. Bird's insides start to throb as he feels him grow against her leg. He needs her and she desperately wants to give him what he requires.

“Unless…you don’t want me,” she suggests, knowing she's wrong but giving him an easy out if he really doesn’t feel up to it. He shakes his head immediately and chuckles softly.

As their bodies sway together to the music, friction increases between their skin. She tilts her head to the side and he moves his head into the space she'd created for him. His breath is warm on her neck and his lips brush against her skin. Not kissing it, but almost. She feels one of his hands travel down the dress and onto her ass. As she leans her body backward again, he supports her entire frame with one arm, his eyes tracking her body as it moves fluidly. He watches the way her neck exposes itself to him with hunger. He pulls her up again to his eye level. His face is obscured by shadows in the moonlight but even in the darkness, she can see the desire, the dark lust, the need for her.

“Oh hell no, baby girl. I want ya somethin fierce,” he says. “I always do.”

And she can tell the difference between his expression now compared to the one from the club. This one isn’t just lust. It’s desire. He doesn’t just want her body. He wants all of her. Whatever she has to give.

Her head is still tilted and she closes her eyes as he drags his hot lips up the skin and onto her cheek. He presses his forehead against hers. She keeps her eyes shut, not wanting to see, only to feel his hands, his mouth on her. His presence.

“Then take me,” she whispers, bringing her fingers up to his face. She sensually drags them down his cheekbones and to his lips. He groans, quietly, in contentment and she smiles.

“I can’t.”

“Why not? I’m givin you everything ya need. I’m givin you permission, no I’m askin for it. I’m beggin for it. For ya to love me in every way that you can…because I love you.”

His eyes flash open in shock and his hand slides onto her face to stroke her cheekbone.

“I love you, Elvis,” she repeats and a smile breaks onto her face.

She releases a tense breath, feeling free from the cage she'd locked herself in. He returns the expression with the smile of someone so deeply in love. In the way his eyes search her and see her, she can feel his love. It swirls around her and pulls her into a warm embrace.

The next time she leans back to be dipped, he reaches through the slit in the side of the dress to grab onto her thigh. His fingers dig deep into the skin, supporting her without question. And he pulls her flush against him, expertly angling his hips into her heat. She gasps, letting her head fall back again. And she starts to move in rhythm against his hips. He slowly raises her up again to let her lips brush together once more and she feels his lips twitch up into a small smirk.

She hovers by his lips for a moment before letting her fingers drag across his chest. She takes in the feeling of the lace, the soft skin of his chest in between and watches as her fingers pull apart the open flaps. She circles around to his back, running her hands up his spine and feeling him shudder underneath her touch. As she circles back to the front, she lets her fingers fall uncomfortably low on his back, ghosting over his bum and then teasing the skin right above his belt loops. His eyes flutter closed for a second, his lips falling open. She raises herself onto tip-toes, whispering into his ear.

“Take me, Elvis.”

By the way his fingers turn her around, she can tell that he’s giving in. His hands slide effortlessly down her abdomen, creeping closer to her heat. She turns her head just for a moment but it’s enough time for his lips to return to her neck. He doesn’t kiss it, doesn’t bite it, just rests there, teasing the skin. He deftly unclips the top part of her dress fastened around her neck and the straps fall open, resting on her chest and exposing the tops of her breasts for him to access. She breathes heavily, feeling the mounds expand and contract. She throws her arm up and over his shoulder, grasping onto his neck as she gyrates her hips back into him. His hand moves to wind around her ribcage, just below her breasts. So close but so far. He whips her around to face him.

“I love this dress,” he says, smirking. “Let’s destroy it.”

He walks her back until her thighs hit the front hood of the car. She slides her hands down his chest, pulling up on the fabric of the lace top and untucking it from his pants. She lifts the shirt up over his head and tosses it somewhere on the grass. Her hands return to his shoulders, running down his smooth skin and feeling the hair on his chest. She bites her lip, nudging her nose against his. She feels him twitch against her and raise his lips up. She denies him a kiss, even as his hands slide underneath her legs and lift her up onto the hood of the car. Her pussy is throbbing now with him pressing against her to intensify the feeling. She spreads her legs, pulling him in between her thighs. He nestles his head into her neck again and this time, he gives her what she needs.

He kisses the skin hotly and then bites it playfully, pulling on the skin. She sighs with pleasure. His calloused hands push the fabric of the dress aside to run up her thighs. He leans on top of her, pulling her leg around his hip. She lets him lay her down on top of the hood, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him in. Her eyes are locked despite the movement. She can feel him even more now as he leans against her on top of the car. Her pussy screams for contact and she wiggles to try and get some. He's positioned his hand behind her head to protect it from the metal hood of the car, and his fingers splay onto her neck to support her.

Her hands fly to his face, gently stroking both of his cheeks with her thumbs. They look at each other for a minute, sharing a silent expression of love. Her head bobs forward without realizing, wanting his lips. But he's too far away, so all her action does is show him how badly she needs his lips. She's waited long enough. He caresses her so gently, tilting his face down and finally pressing his lips to hers. The perfect kind of kiss, sweet but still passionate. His plump lips wrap perfectly around hers, and as he kisses her, he applies more pressure. She pushes back, liking the little game they're playing.

He runs his tongue over her lower lip and she pushes him back to look at him. She can feel her eyes growing heavy with lust and she knows he probably finds her sexier than ever with how badly she clearly wants him. He leans down again and she opens her mouth for him to slip in. Their tongues dance together, swirling around each other. He gently thrusts against her. She whimpers quietly and lets her hands slide down the smooth skin of his chest again.

She pushes him back, leaning up to stay in contact with his lips, but staying far enough back that she can dance her fingers down to the skin above his belt. She feels his stomach suck in a breath as she grabs onto the metal belt hook and pulls him harshly against her. He grunts and she smirks into the kiss as she starts to unhook his belt. She angrily pulls it out of the loops and throws it onto the ground, wanting it out of the way. As she slides down off the hood, his hands fall to her waist and then onto her ass, squeezing it hard. She unbuttons and unzips his pants, wickedly running her fingers down into the pants and over his hard dick. He slides his hands around her waist, gripping her hard, and yanks himself away.

“Jump,” he commands, breathlessly.

She does as he directs and he pulls her effortlessly onto his hips. She wraps her legs around him, winding her arms around his shoulders and kissing him passionately, frantically, deeply.

He carries her around to the side of the car, pushing her legs down. She plops to the ground and he flips her around again to pull her body against him. His hands travel up her sides, under her armpits, pushing her arms above her head. She leaves them up, wiggling her fingers into the chilly air as his fingers tickle her upper back while he unzips the dress. She feels hot breath and wet kisses on her back as he pushes the fabric aside and kisses down her spine. She shudders and arches her back when he swipes his tongue over her lower back. He pushes the fabric down her body and pulls it off her hips, leaving her only in a strapless bra, panties, and the garter belt holding up her silk stockings.

She turns around and leans against the door to the backseat. He kneels underneath you, pulling her leg up and over his shoulder. He runs his hands down her thighs, tugging on the straps of the garter belt. She pants and bites her lip, watching his fingers dance across her skin. He unclips the belt and wraps his fingers around the tops of the stockings, slowly, agonizingly rolling them back off her legs. He kisses down her thighs, down her kneecaps, her shins, and onto the tops of her feet. He does her other leg and she wiggles in anticipation, feeling her desire start to leak through her panties and the swollen lips of her pussy.

Elvis’ hands claw their way back up to the belt, unfastening it from her waist and letting it fall to the ground. As he stands, his hands slide up her back, clutching onto her bra and pushing it open. He sways her back and forth to the music still coming from the radio, pressing himself flush against her. He opens the door to the backseat and she lets him lay her down as he flings the bra off to some unknown space in the grass. She giggles giddily, bending her knees to wrap around his hips as he lowers himself down onto her.

She kisses him eagerly, clutching onto the back of his neck and pushing her hips down into him. His hands slide up her stomach, massaging her breasts as he bites and pulls on her lips. As soon as his fingers latch onto her nipple, she moans into his lips.

“So sexy…” he mumbles as he pulls back roughly to latch his lips onto her nipple.

His tongue swirls around the sensitive skin and her fingers tangle themselves into his hair. The chilled wind means that Bird's nipples are standing to attention and she can tell that he likes it. He sucks on the sensitive skin around her breasts, nipping at her nipple and pulling it between his teeth. She moans breathlessly, grabbing painfully onto his hair. She feels him moan back into her skin, which only makes her wetter. He releases her skin and the cold wind freezes the moisture on her. She frantically pulls at his hair and face, wanting him back on her lips.

He crashes up onto her and her fingers desperately clutch lower on his body, pushing the fabric of his pants away. He pulls back, straightening and she jumps to help him toss his pants off. When they’re laying lifeless on the ground, she pushes him down onto the seat, climbing on top of his waist to straddle him. His hands fall to her ass as she pushes him all the way back onto the seats, leaning over him and letting her hair tickle his chest.

“Fuck…so sexy, lil mama,” he says, biting his lip. Bird smirks, feeling her pussy throb at his words.

His mouth falls open with labored breathing as he runs his tongue over his teeth at the sight of her on top of him. She starts to move her hips against him, pushing her ass into the air as she leans down to kiss his neck. His hands grip her ass harder, pushing her back and forth as she grinds on his dick. He growls as she bites hard onto his neck.

“Goddamn, lil mama, where the hell d’you learn to do that?” he asks, and she just giggles.

“Oh, I got a good teacher,” she responds, dragging a finger across his lips.

His wet lips open and she slides her finger in. She bites her lip at the feeling of his tongue swirling around her finger. Her breathing is ragged and she doesn't know how her pussy could get more swollen than it already is. She's so wet that she can barely even feel the juices she's sure are leaking out of her pussy. She mischievously leans close to him as if she's going to press a kiss on his lips. Just as he leans up to brush his lips against hers, she wickedly pulls back. He jerks forward and his eyes fly open at her sudden absence. He grips her hips as he sits up, and she starts to fall back until he catches her in his arm. She smirks, knowing she's teased him successfully.

“Bad girl,” he whispers, shaking his head. “Get on ya back.”

She nods enthusiastically, hopping off of him and switching places. He returns to her breasts, peppering them with kisses and sucking the skin. He drags his luscious lips all the way down her body and hooks his fingers into her underwear. He pulls them off and stretches her leg out, kissing down the skin. He gets to her inner thigh, and she physically peels her body off the cushion. Anything she has to do to get him to touch her throbbing folds. He bites and pulls on the skin of her inner thigh, as close as humanly possible to her heat and she whimpers and groans.

“Please…” she whispers, without meaning to. Elvis looks up at her from where he is, a wicked smile pasted on his face.

“What d’you say, baby girl?”

“Please,” she breathes louder and catches herself moaning, even though he’s not touching her.

He finally runs a finger up her folds and she can't help but notice how easily it slides through the liquid. She shivers and bites her lip hard, closing her eyes instinctively. Fuck, it feels so good. But his finger only lingers for a moment before it disappears. Her eyes shoot open, and she whimpers again, wiggling her hips.

“You’re so fuckin wet for me, Lil Birdie, goddamn,” he says in a deep, raspy voice. “You been this wet for me all night?”

“You been that hard for me all night,” she shoots sback, dragging a toe along his hard dick. He sucks in a breath and grabs her foot.

“Behave now, lil mama. You had ya time to be a tease. It's my turn, now.”

He runs a finger up her folds again and she convulses with a groan.

“You like that, don’t ya, princess? How I tease ya?”

“Y-yes,” she replies softly.

“Ya just so perfect, all wet and swollen for me. It’d be a shame to ruin it,” he says, running two fingers up her wetness.

She balls her fingers into fists and thrashes around on the leather seats. He looks up at her, his eyes dark with lust. He bites his lip and licks her folds, sucking on her clit. She moans loudly at the feeling of his coarse tongue drawing shapes on her sensitive nerves. She grasps at the side of the seat when he licks it again and then inserts a finger.

“Shit, so loose,” he mutters, pumping a finger in and out for only a few seconds before adding another finger and then another.

Three is as many as she can handle at the moment, the tightness becoming uncomfortable. He pumps his three fingers in and out of her a few more times, her juices sloshing from the movement of his fingers.

He pulls out and she watches with an open mouth as he licks his fingers clean, one at a time. His tongue swirls daintily around each finger, and she clutches, white-knuckled, onto the bench of the car. He gives her a quick kiss on her clit and she throws her head back with a sharp intake of breath. He picks up her legs, pulling him into his lap. She pants, feeling him twitch hard below her.

“You still a virgin, darlin?” he asks and she nods. His eyes light up. “Good. Now, I made ya a promise, and I intend to keep that promise. But I gotta ask ya. Is this what you want? Here in the back of the car? Not at home in a bed.”

“Here is fine,” she responds quickly, reaching to grasp him to her. He shakes his head, removing her hands from his neck and holding them to his chest.

“I’m serious, Lil Birdie. This what ya want? I ain’t about to ruin ya first time.”

“You couldn’t ruin it if you tried, Elvis,” she replies, running her hands down his face, his arms, his body. “Everything is perfect, baby. I just want you. All of ya. Everythin you can give me. I want it all.”

He smiles sweetly and presses a kiss to her forehead. He leans over the front seat and pops open the glove box to get out a condom.

“How long have those been in there?” she asks, laughing.

“Just a few hours,” he says sheepishly. “Got some from B.B. at the club.”

She giggles, falling back onto the leather seats, and watches as he rolls the strange thing over his hard dick. He pumps it a few times to make sure it’s secure and Bird gulps as he comes closer. He leans down to kiss her, resting his dick against her heat. She resists the urge to move, letting herself get familiar with him but also teasing her nerves in the process. She kisses him, sweetly and sensually. No biting, no licking, just lips meeting other lips. When he pulls back, his eyes are full of lust.

“You’re all mine,” he whispers, tucking a strand of sweaty hair behind her ear. “I get ya all to myself. You’re so pure, untouched. And here I getta ruin ya. Make ya feel things you ain’t never felt before.”

“Go slow,” she says, smiling, and he nods.

“Don’t worry, Lil Birdie, I’ll take my time. I want this to be good for ya. Perfect.”

He gently grabs his dick and runs it along her folds a few times. She breathes in quickly and bites her lip. He smirks and gently guides the tip in. She squeezes her eyes shut and digs her nails into his bicep as she feels his member stretching out her skin. It’s painful but not as bad as she has been expecting. He rests inside her for a moment, brushing hair out of her eyes and kissing her forehead softly.

“I love you," he whispers and she opens her eyes. He’s smiling down at her with a face so loving that it almost draws tears to her eyes.

“I love you,” she replies, stroking his cheek. “I’m ready.”

He nods, slowly starting to thrust in and out of her. She winds her arms around him, pulling him close to her. His head buries itself in her neck, biting and sucking on the skin as he slowly pushes in and out of her. It still hurts and Bird's eyes grow watery with tears. But as he wraps his arms underneath her, pulling her as close to him as possible, it starts to hurt less. Her moans increase as she gets more comfortable and they fall into rhythm with his movements. Her body starts to respond on its own, moving in time with his thrusts. Her hips rise up meet him and he speeds up after she shows him she can take it.

“You’re so fuckin tight, lil mama,” he whispers in her ear. She moans through a smile in response, tangling her hands into his hair. As she yanks harshly on the locks, he moans and grunts.

“Elvis…” she moans, and he growls.

“I love it when ya say my name, baby.”

She giggles.

“Elvis…” she repeats, dragging out the last ‘s’. He hisses out a breath.

“Hell, Bird, you’re so infuriatin. You got me fucked up bad,” he says, and she feels his muscles flexing underneath her fingers.

She digs her nails into his back, throwing her head back. He takes the opportunity to press his lips against her neck. He grips her lower back, pushing her up so that it arches. She moans frantically between breaths, raking her fingers down his smooth back.

“I’m go-I’m gonna…” she chokes out.

“Hold off jus a lil longer, sugar,” he says, grunting as he slams into her.

Bird's body is moving without her control, pushing him on and on, deeper and deeper into her. She bites her lip hard, probably drawing blood, and scratches his back, clenching her thighs. Whatever she has to do to hold off until she get spermission. His movements grow sloppier as he nears his own orgasm. He sweats, the droplets dripping off of his hair and onto her skin. In any other scenario, she'd be disgusted. But the thought of his scent marking her, claiming her, it’s everything.

“Elvis, baby, I can’t,” she whimpers, curling her toes.

“It’s okay, lil mama,”  he grunts. “Let go.”

One more thrust is all that she needs. She feels her stomach clench and waves of pleasure roll over her. Her body shudders and she screams as she reaches the top of the mountain. She slowly slides down the other side as Elvis pulls out of her, pumping himself a few times to finish off. Her legs are shaking, vibrating with the painful pleasure that spreads through her veins. She breathes raggedly, shakily.

Elvis is kneeling above her, his abs shuddering. His hair is pushed back, sweat dripping down the side of his forehead. His mouth is dark red, hanging open in a satisfied half-smile. She rests her hands on her head and breathes out a laugh. Elvis takes a deep breath and rolls off of the seat onto the floor of the car. A few moments of silence pass, both of them trying to get ahold of their breathing.

“So…that’s sex, huh?” she asks, breathless.

[ -> "In the Still of the Night" ]

She lazily lets her fingers drop down to him, and he clamps onto them. He says nothing and when she rolls over to glance down at him, his eyes are closed, a dumb smile pasted onto his features. She chuckles, rolling onto her stomach so that she can peer at him. His eyes open and look up at her. His face looks so handsome, flushed with red cheeks from the heat of her sex. His hair is sticking to his forehead and up in the air at the same time, laying sexily all over him.

“How was it?” he asks. Her lips curve up into a huge smile and she shakes her head.

“Let’s just say I’d really, really like to do it again sometime. Preferably sometime soon."

He smiles handsomely, closing his eyes.

“You know, baby,” he continues. “I’ve been with a lotta women. But ain’t nobody ever got me all shook up like you. You got me hot all night, sweatin my ass off cause I needed ya so bad. You showin up in that dress and dancin around like some kinda mythical siren or somethin," he pauses to laugh. "I ain’t never been so aroused in my whole life. Not to mention the way you move. You got a god-given gift for this, girl. But I’m glad I could make it good for ya.”

She gently touches his face, dragging a finger along his swollen lips. He opens one eye and smiles mischievously, popping her finger into his mouth and running his tongue over the nerves. She playfully smacks him and laughs but her joy falters for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I shoulda told you about everythin. I shoulda said it the day ya left. That I loved you. That I love you. I’ve hated myself every day since then cause I let you walk away. And then when your mama called, I jus wanted to see you so badly. I thought maybe you would just fall in love with me all over again.”

“It’s okay, darlin,” he says, sitting up. He takes your fingers in his hands and kisses them gently. “I never shoulda put ya in that situation. It was wrong of me. I knew I loved you. Hell, I knew I loved you since that first day we took our first walk together back from the hayride. And I never fell outta love with you neither. You hurt me somethin bad, but I never stopped lovin you all those days. All that time.”

Bird squeezes his fingers, leaning down to kiss him.

“I ain’t gonna lie to ya,” he says. “It won’t be easy, bein with me through all this. But I wouldn’t want it any other way. I want you here, with me, forever. I’ll always love you, Lil Birdie.”

“I love ya more,” she responds. They at each other for a moment before the wind blows through the air and Bird shivers.

“You’re freezin,” he says. He hops out of the car to go searching for something. She folds your arms over your chest to try and stay warm.

“What’re ya lookin for?”

“My goddamn jacket! Where the hell is it?” he yells and she laughs at the sight of him, completely and totally naked, stalking around like bigfoot trying to find his clothes in the dark. He laughs and she buries her head into your hands.

“Aha!” he shouts and she laughs harder, feeling tears well in her eyes. Happy tears, for the first time in a long time.

He comes back with the biggest, most proud smile on his face. He drops it over your body and, surprisingly, it’s much warmer than you’re expecting.

“That’s better. Let’s get ya home before you freeze to death,” he says. She climbs out of the car and leans down to pick up your crumpled dress, not realizing the show you’re giving Elvis.

“Or before I lose control of myself and ravish you again." 

She whirls around to smack him but he grabs her arms and pulls her into him. She laughs and he places a soft kiss on her lips. She quickly gathers up the rest of the clothes and hops back into the car. She listens to the radio on low, holding his hand and leaning her head back with closed eyes. The wind feels soothing and refreshing, even though it’s a bit cold. They don't say anything to each other on the way back, just sit in comfortable, content silence. Every so often, Elvis raises Bird's fingers to his lips to kiss them…

“Birdie, baby girl, wake up,” she stirs to Elvis’ soft, raspy voice. They're back in the driveway at Graceland. “You fell asleep, baby. C’mon, Imma take you inside.”

“But I don’t have a bed 'ere,” Birdy mumbles, as he lifts her out of the car, bridal style. She rubs your eyes and then holds onto his neck.

“Oh no,” he says in a sing-songy voice and smirks. “I guess we’ll have to share.”

She smiles and giggles, burying her head in his neck. He carries her inside, quietly, and sneaks her up the stairs and into his room. She borrows one of his extra shirts to sleep in and crawls into the bed. They probably smell like sex but Bird doesn't care. Once he wraps his warm, strong arms around her, she's the happiest she's ever been.

“You’re my girl, Birdie baby,” Elvis whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Forever,” she whispers before falling into a deep sleep.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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[artemiseamoon]

How about you and me

Secret Santa fic for @din-jarhead | I hope you enjoy it. This was fun to write.

Frankie Morales x Reader (f) | friends to lovers

Words: 3,840 | A03

Warnings: disappointing sexual and dating history, p in v unprotected sex scene.

About: After a bad run of dates and getting fed up with the whole thing, you vent to your best friend Frankie (who you secretly love). He has a few ideas how to improve your situation.

An: fic is from readers POV mainly and the intro is Frankie’s. As always, no one reader will fit all (example - say the things you’d say) so you can read as an Oc if you prefer.

* since this is a gift fic for secret Santa i have posted in full*

Frankie kept his feelings to himself for a list of reasons, his career being number one.

Frankie has seen too many times what this work does to relationships. He knows firsthand. He did not want that with you - he’d never forgive himself if he messed it all up with you.

It's better this way, or so he tells himself, loving you secretly while being your best friend.

But now that he’s recently retired, and seeing you face constant disappointment in love and sex, Frankie thinks it’s time to speak up and give the possibility of you and him a chance.

✨✨✨

Thursday night

Humming contently, you relax against the red cushion of the diner booth. Before the sound fully leaves your lips, Frankie is already holding back a laugh as he chews his food.

“What?” You asked once you swallowed.

“All these years later, that's still your favorite thing on the menu.” He sits up, placing his elbows on the table across from you. “You still make that sound.”

“How observant of you,” you wink at him, then grab your glass of water. “You making fun of me?”

“No, it's cute.” He replies before taking another bite of his sandwich.

You and Frankie have been coming here for years. It’s become one of your places, and the times you’ve been here without him always feel weird.

Earlier that day, Frankie texted you and asked if you were free tonight. It was a light day at the garage, and he finished all his projects early. You happened to be off, even though you usually work on Thursdays, so the two of you decided to meet up for dinner, ‘at our spot’, as Frankie calls it.

You love the garage for him. It started as a passion project in between jobs. Once he retired, Frankie spent time trying to figure things out and ended up back at a garage. Now he owns it, and he’s much more relaxed than he used to be. It gave him something to do, something he cares about, and as his best friend, it's a pleasure to see him enjoying this stage of his life.

Cars, garages - all that may not be your forte, but you do enjoy visiting him and usually hang out with him after work, sometimes helping at the counter if he and the guys are busy. Your favorite part is watching him work, and when he catches you looking, you usually wink or make a silly face that brings a smirk to his lips.

You cover up what's really happening inside of you with humor and silliness but underneath, you are still madly in love with your best friend and watching him work is like an aphrodisiac. Not that you’ll tell him that.

…

There are many reasons you and Frankie love this place, and you have endless memories here. Sitting in this booth most of the time, number 4.

Memories of you meeting after exciting life events, less-than-exciting ones; memories of you running inside to meet him once he was home after missions. That one time you nearly ran the waitress over to get to him.

After dinner, you shared a dessert and ordered some drinks. As the night goes on and groups of people leave, their seats filled once more by others, you and Frankie remained in your own little world.

At one point, you headed outside to the patio. It’s a nice night out, and once the diner filled up, you and he both eyed the doors without words. It’s another thing you adore about him, that silent language between you, it’s a rare thing.

…

An hour passes, and the second round of drinks is in your hands. You and Frankie are seated on a bench on the far left of the patio, cute led lights decorate the wooden fence as the music from outside dances in the air.

When your phone buzzed, you and he were in the middle of laughing about something. Frankie's thigh touched your own as you huddled together on the bench.

With a sign, you dig into your pocket and pull out your phone. “Sorry, this keeps going off.”

Frankie tells you it's okay without words, just using his eyes. You plug in the pin, then pull up the screen. It’s a series of texts from that asshole you hooked up with two months ago. Also, sadly, the last person you had sex with.

You must have made a face because Frankie calls your name, then asks,

“You okay?”

“Ugh, yeah,” you lower the phone and look him in the eye, “I’m just never dating or having sex again. But it’s fine. It’s okay. It's fine.” You shake your head, trying to push away memories of that night.

You were horny and lonely, so you checked out your recent matches online. You hadn't used the app in some time at that point, because every date you went on was a disaster, and the men, shit, the men just kept getting worse.

But your vibrator was no longer cutting it, and that night you decided all you needed was hot sex with a hot guy and it would hold you over for a while. When you saw his face, it was a yes, he was exactly what you were looking for, and his body was even better.

The date went okay, it was clear there was nothing there beyond sexual attraction, but that was fine. At the end of the night, you went back to his place and what started as a very hot make out led to the most disappointing sex you’ve had in a long time, and that says a lot because your recent lovers have been lackluster.

He was selfish in bed; more selfish than any man you’ve been with. He didn't go down on you but wanted you to go down on him, which you declined to do. Once you did fuck, with a condom, of course, it was over so fast you lay there stunned. The mother fucker got off on himself, you’re sure of it. You might as well have been a damn sex doll for all that.

You were sure you blocked his number and told him to never contact you again, but maybe you were too horrified at the end and forgot to do it. Either way, getting a series of texts from him telling you he wants to see you and how much fun you had together makes you want to vomit and burn your phone.

Despite your efforts to not get stuck in this memory, you do. Frankie's voice pulls you out of it and thankfully, puts the man out of your mind,

“Still not working out?”

You meet his eyes, “Yeah. I’m either cursed or there are no good men left,” when the words leave your lips, you see something in his eyes, something you can’t put a finger on, “at this point, I think I’m destined to be single and maybe never have sex again.”

Frankie chuckles, his head lowered slightly. Letting your gaze linger, you take in his profile, the way his wavy chestnut hair curls from beneath his hat. Admiring Frankie when he’s not looking is something you’ve done more times than you can count.

Your love and sex life are already a mess. The last thing you need is your secret pinning for Frankie to spill off your tongue right now. It’s a secret. You plan to keep it that way. One more disappointment with a stranger, sure, it would suck but you could handle that. One more “you up?” or ‘wyd’ text from some asshole you never want to see again, you don’t want that, but you can handle it.

But Frankie? What if you laid it all out and spilled your truth and he doesn’t feel the same way? What if he turned you down? If you try and it doesn't work out? What if you try, it’s weird, and you end up losing your best friend? - no, you can’t take that risk. Frankie means too much to you.

“Don’t give up,” when he speaks your name in between breaths, paired with his calming voice, you’re ready to just confess anyway and go in for a kiss, but you hold back, “You’ll make someone the happiest man on earth. I promise.”

You scoffed, “yeah right.”

“Don’t do that,” Frankie sits up, his expression growing serious, “you just have shitty taste in guys. You’re picking the wrong ones.” He adds a little grin at the end.

You point at him, “don’t think I can argue with you there. That or I broke a mirror at some point and didn’t realize it.”

Frankie chuckles, “or, there are good guys out there and they’re not on those fucking apps,” he observes you, then points at your phone, “those apps,” he motions to your phone, “you don’t need that.”

You sigh and drop your gaze to your phone. Then set it on the bench beside you. Your eyes meet Frankies, “no one meets organically anymore. I don’t want technology to have a decent date or get laid but here we are.”

Frankie is quietly observing you and listening. You hold his gaze for a while, too long. You feel a confession dancing on your tongue yet again. Swallowing back the words, you grab your phone and start deleting the dating apps. “Screw it. I’m getting rid of them. You’re right Cat, I don’t need them.”

Frankie sits back and crosses his arms in a relaxed way. After a few moments, he says, “I have an idea. It might be a crazy one.”

You raise a brow, “listening.”

“How about-“he pauses when your eyes meet his, “we go out on a date.”

You drop your phone. Frankie feels a jolt of panic, worrying if that was a bad idea.

The sound of your phone hitting the ground is heard by you, but you don’t care. You stare at Frankie, and a shocked smile slowly builds on your lips.

Your eyes widen, “you and me?”

“Yeah. Look,” Frankie slides his cap off and runs his hand through his hair, “you’re my best friend. You know I care about you -“he takes a beat, “I hate watching you go through all this shit with those guys. I hate seeing you unhappy…” he says your name with so much softness, it makes your heartbeat faster, “I like you; I have for years I just didn’t think -”

His words fade. You’ve always been beautiful to him. But right now, with the glint in your eye and a smile on your lips that could brighten any dark room - it renders him speechless, and any doubts he’s has start to melt away.

Frankie scoots closer to you, he attempts to continue his thoughts but can’t. Words won’t meet his lips. Instead, he does something he’s always wanted to do. He kisses you. Frankie's lips are soft and warm against your own, and your cheek heats up as he cups it with his hand.

The kiss is sweet, it makes your heart flutter and when it ends you want more. Frankie leans back just enough to gauge your reaction.

He’s a confident guy, anxious at times, sometimes a little shy, but confident. And though seconds ago he was sure you feel the same, he’s doubting himself again.

“Was that okay?” He asks softly, his beautiful soulful brown eyes locked on yours.

You smile and throw your arms around his neck, “a little short, but yeah, that’s okay.”

Frankie chuckles and pulls you closer until his lips meet yours. This time, there’s no hesitation, no worry; he kisses you like it's the last time he’ll ever kiss again, he kisses you so deeply he leaves you breathless; your head spinning as moisture pools between your thighs.

As the kiss heats up, your bodies are pressed together, and he nearly pulls you beneath him on the bench. Your fingers are in his hair now, your other hand tugging on his collar. Frankie has one hand on your thigh, the other behind your neck.

The hungry kiss doesn’t break until the beer bottle shatters on the ground, his bottle. You laugh as he reaches down to rescue your phone before it gets wet. Breathing heavily, you both continue to chuckle, and he cups your face again.

“Better?” He asks with a playful grin.

“Fuck yes.” You reply with a seductive smile.

Frankie's eyes dip to your lips, “about that date? Tomorrow?”

You poke his dimple, “Tonight?”

You’re sick of waiting.

You've wanted Frankie for years and after that kiss, you can’t wait for a second longer. Luckily, Frankie feels the same way.

“Okay, “he says confidently, “this is now a date.”

…

You can’t keep your hands off each other.

The official date portion of the night only lasted 30 minutes before you piled into Frankie's truck and ended up at his place. From the door to the living room, you make out passionately, hands exploring each other's bodies as you remove your clothes. It’s been two months since you had sex and the kiss made you feral. In the back of your mind, you wondered if you should slow down, but you don’t want to.

Every time a piece of clothing is removed, his lips are on yours again, the thud of your racing hearts pound between your bodies. As you make your way to the bedroom, he tries to navigate you in the dark, a table there, something falling over here.

“Maybe we should turn the light on?” you giggle.

He kisses your neck, his hands on your hips as you pause in the hallway, just before his bedroom. His body pressing against yours, both of you down to just your underwear now.

You wrap a leg around him, pulling him in closer, and moan as his bulge rubs against you.

“Fuck the light,” he growls, “bedroom now.”

…

In the bedroom, Frankie turns on one light, he needs to see you, to take you in, all of you. He’s seated on the edge of the bed now, admiring your form as you stand before him. He anchors one hand on your hip and kisses the soft skin of your belly.

“You’re beautiful.”

He kisses the spot again, then dips his head to kiss your thighs. Your hands are anchored on his strong broad shoulders as you watch him admiring you. There are no words, no thoughts, just the way Frankie is looking at you and speaking to you, the way his hands feel on your body; you are nearly vibrating with desire now.

Frankie stands. You slide your fingers in his hair as you kiss him, tugging at his dark brown waves. Frankie moans into the kiss and deepens it, needing more of you, his hands moving behind you and greedily cupping your ass.

You slide a hand between your bodies and palm his cock. Your hand on his cock makes Frankie moan and squeeze your ass harder. You imagine it inside of you and grow even wetter.

Frankie kisses you like no one ever has before, the way you read about in books and dreamed kisses could be. And when he slides two fingers inside of you, your knees almost buck, he demands more of your mouth as he fingers you, and you give it to him.

Pleasure rises in you as he feels you up with his other hand. You’ve always loved his hands, you stare at them all the time, you like to watch them work, and this man - he’s a fucking expert, he finds all your spots and brings you to the brink of release in minutes.

Frankie pulls his fingers out and orders you to lay on the bed on your back, knees up. Your breath catches in your throat at the command. You do it. He positions himself between your thighs and spreads them further apart,

“Perfect, just like that - “he groans, taking you in, drunk on you, kneading your thighs with his fingers as he observes you, his eyes clouded with desire.

Frankie knows how to touch you; you purr and moan to way he uses his fingers, his tongue, his mouth, the intuitive way he works your clit. You melt in his hands.

Frankie knows the right speed and pressure to bring you rushing past the edge of desire - to sweet sweet nirvana.

Frankie sits up and licks his lips. You’re seeing double and sucking air into your lungs as post-orgasm ecstasy moves in waves through your body.

He smiles, “all of that for me,” Frankie grins and dips his head again, savoring even more of your release.

Seconds later, Frankie moves up your body and hikes your leg over his hip; you bring your hands to his shoulders as he anchors himself with one hand and wraps the other around his shaft.

His eyes stay on yours as he slides into you, inch by inch, filling you and stretching you deliciously. You gasp and dig your nails into his shoulders,

“Is this too much? Should I go slower?”

He’s thicker, bigger than you’re used to, but you want all of him, every inch. You clench your walls around him and grab his ass, pulling him in deeper, needing more of him. Frankie kisses your jawline, then your lips.

“How's that for an answer?” You tease, pulling him in deeper, he moans and drops his head.

“Fucking perfect - “ he groans, thrusting his hips, sliding the rest of his cock inside your warmth.

You begin grinding your hips together, moaning with pleasure as you fuck. Your bodies move in a rhythm so synchronized it’s like you’ve done this before, and even with the extra stretch it takes to accommodate Frankie's cock, once he’s in, you fit perfectly, like your bodies were made for each other.

You grind your hips faster and faster, your hands traveling each other's bodies as he fucks you into the mattress. Frankie has imagined this so many times, and he would love to take his time with you, but right now, he's feral, the same as you, utterly consumed by red-hot passion.

Frankie changes positions, rolling on his back, you on top of him. As you ride him, you throw your head back in ecstasy. He anchors one hand on your hip and uses the other to rub your clit.

As you fuck, you become drunker and drunker on each other. You on his cock, him on the feeling of being inside of you.

You try to hold on, to keep it going a little longer, dancing at the edge of what you know will be the most exciting, most fulfilling crescendo you’ve ever had.

Frankie is so good with his hands, and his cock, you won't last much longer. Seconds later, you’re moaning his name and collapsing onto him as you come. He grunts and jerks his hips harder, faster, fucking you through your orgasm. When he kisses you again, it's almost possessive and you like it.

Frankie pins you beneath him again, he hikes your legs over his shoulders, thrusting deep into you with a shuttered groan. You cry his name and whimper at this new angle, it's intense and dizzying. The new angle does Frankie in, after a couple of pumps he comes, moaning your name in pleasure.

His body tenses, orgasmic bliss moving through him as he spills into you. A mix of moans and heightened breaths fill the room as he gently lays you on the mattress, then rolls over on his back beside you. Your body goes limp as you catch your breath.

…

Friday Morning

Frankie is up first. He’s never been able to shake his old schedule, when the sun is up, he’s up. Unless he makes an effort to sleep in.

Last night, moonlight streamed through his window and across your sleeping face, now it's the sun. He stayed up a little longer than you and watched you sleep. Same as now.

You stir awake slowly and eventually open your eyes. Squinting, your flash a tired smile at him, “hi.”

“Hi.” His voice is still groggy, and his hair is messy on his head, he looks adorable. Like you, he’s still naked beneath the sheets. Frankie leans over and kisses you.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.” You chuckle and cover your mouth,

“I don’t care, I’ll kiss you anyway.” he grabs your face and plants another kiss on your lips.

You sit up and pool the sheet at your hips, your back against the pillows like him.

“Frankie, about last night?” You raise your brows at him. “Do you think we messed this up by hooking up right away?”

“No,” his brown eyes meet yours, he turns his body to you, “you?”

You reach out and scratch the patchy part of his beard. “No. I hope not.”

Frankie looks at your thoughtfully, then takes one of your hands in his, “the way I see it, this has been building between us for some time. What happened last night was proof of that.”

You nod. Last night was amazing.

Frankie's everything you imagined and more. With one night, he’s erased all your bad sexual experiences and cleansed shitty lovers from your body memory.

He kisses you how you’ve longed to be kissed. Touches you in ways that make you wild and dizzy with lust. The way he pleases you cannot be compared to any other experience you've had; all your past lovers pale in comparison to this.

In the back of your mind, a thought picks away at you. What if starting with sex makes this a sex thing? As fun as that would be, you love him, and you’d want more than that.

Frankie caresses your arm, “hey, where’d you go?”

“Sorry, I just- it’s clear we like each other. We are obviously attracted to each other, but I’m just worried this will turn into a friends-with-benefits situation. And as fun as that could be, I don’t want -“ you trail off and try to read his expression.

Frankie takes a breath and caresses your arm, “I’ve been in love with you for years. I don’t want just a sex thing. I want you and me, together.”

A smile builds on your lips as your worries fall away, you inch closer to him, “I’m in love with you too Frankie.”

Your name is soft on his lips, his eyes full of adoration, “It's official then isn’t it, “he brushes his knuckles over your cheek, “you’re mine now.”

“And you’re mine.” You smile as you climb into his lap and draw him into a kiss.

Masterlist | Frankie | Pedro

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