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justabigassnerd · 5 months

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New Home

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 4,486

Warnings - death of a parent, strained father-daughter relationship, angst, running away, a pinch of fluff

Summary - after losing your mother, custody is granted to your father Pete Mitchell. however, it's been years since you last saw him

A/N - whoa whoa whoa I be swinging in with a new fic y'all! I actually loved writing this anon request and it does have the potential to be a series (the key word here is potential because I am not committing to anything just yet, I need to see how this turns out first). anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

You hardly knew your father. You knew his name was Pete Mitchell, that he was a naval aviator, and that your mum insisted you inherited a large chunk of your personality from Maverick but that was the extent of your knowledge. You’ve seen pictures of him, and your mum told you about times he visited when you were a baby, but you held no concrete memories of your own of the man. Because of your lack of connection to him, you didn’t really consider Maverick your father. He stopped visiting when you were a baby, so you didn’t really care to acknowledge his relation to you. Your mum, while understanding your feelings and not wanting to force anything upon you, did try to encourage you to get into contact with Maverick if you could to try and form some sort of bond with him.

Then your mother got sick. You spent a lot of time outside of school caring for her and working your part-time job to keep you and your mum afloat when she had to stop working because her health was declining so rapidly. It was tough for you to try and keep things going and your mum tried to push for you to get into contact with your father, so you’d have someone to go to if she didn’t win the battle against her illness, but you always rebutted, insisting that she’d be fine.

You watched as your mother had to be admitted to the hospital for round-the-clock care. You always visited her after school or work and spent as much time with her as you could, constantly asking the nurses and doctors for updates and hoping by some miracle she’d recover.

But she never did.

Your mum passed away after three months of battling with an illness you could never understand, leaving you alone in the world. You soon ended up in contact with social services as your mother had contacted them prior to her death without you knowing and told them that she wished for you to move in with your dad as opposed to going into foster care. You were still hesitant about the whole thing. You barely knew him; you’d be uprooting your entire life to move to Miramar.

While you had to go home, pack bags and prep things for your mother’s funeral, Maverick received a knock on his door early one Saturday morning.

“Hello, are you Captain Pete Mitchell?” The woman on the other side of the door says, a kind smile on her face as she speaks. Maverick was taken aback by this woman being on the other side of the door, he would’ve put money on it being Bradley on the other side of the door over some random woman.

“I am. Can I help you?” Maverick asks, confused as to how she knows who he is and what she’s doing at his house.

“You have a daughter, y/n l/n, correct?” The woman then asks, eyes flicking down to the file in her hand while Maverick’s expression shifts from one of confusion to one of worry.

“Is she okay?” Is the first thing that comes out of Maverick’s mouth as he thinks of all the things that could possibly have happened to you.

“Her mother, Catherine, passed away a couple of days ago and before she passed, she made it known to us that she wanted y/n to be in your care since she has no other relatives.” The woman explains and Maverick feels his heart sink to his stomach at the woman’s words. His relationship with your mother may have been short, but he never stopped caring for her. Hearing she had passed hit him hard.

“She wanted me to take y/n in?” Maverick asks quietly, searching for confirmation as the woman nods slightly.

“She did. We’re going to help you and y/n with the process and check in occasionally after she’s moved in to make sure everything is okay with the two of you.” The woman says as she hands a card over with her name and number on it. Maverick inspects the card, learning that her name is Holly Fieldman before looking back up at her.

“When is she coming? I know she lives a couple of states away.” Maverick asks as he pushes the card into his jean pocket, watching as Holly silently asks to be let in and he obliges, stepping aside and letting her enter his house, leading her to the living room and sitting down opposite her.

“y/n wants to hold her mother’s funeral before she comes to Miramar.” Holly starts, flicking through the file and double-checking all the information she received from her colleague.

“That makes sense.” Maverick says slowly, wishing he could be there to help you with the funeral, but he was aware he could potentially overstep if he tried to get involved.

“My colleague said the funeral should be taking place within the next couple of days so I will contact you when we have a date set for y/n to come here.” Holly says as she glances up at Maverick who nods slightly in acknowledgement to her words.

“That’s okay, that gives me time to sort things out here.” Maverick agrees as Holly gets to her feet, Maverick quickly mirroring her actions and leading her to the front door and bidding her goodbye. Once he closes the door, Maverick turns around and rests his back against the door, staring into his house before muttering.

“Good thing I have the spare room clear.”

A few days later, after the funeral, you were all packed up and waiting at the airport for your flight to San Diego. Your leg bounced nervously as you stared at the sign above the gate door displaying the location you were flying to. Everyone around you seemed perfectly relaxed and ready for the flight ahead while you were thinking of everything that could go wrong. By the time you boarded the plane and found your seat, you could’ve laughed at yourself for how nervous you were. You were the daughter of a top naval aviator and here you were panicking about flying in a commercial plane which you were sure was much safer than doing whatever it was your father did for work. You were sure you looked crazy with the way you were gripping the armrests when the plane took off into the air, eyes scrunching shut as your stomach lurched at the foreign feeling.

Thankfully, the flight went smoothly, and no one made any comments about your very obvious nervousness. When you were allowed to disembark the plane, you followed the sea of people to luggage claim as you gripped the straps of your rucksack to try and direct your nerves somewhere. Once you grabbed your suitcase off the conveyor belt, you followed the large signs that led to the arrivals terminal where you soon located a smartly dressed woman holding a sign with your name on, so you approached her sheepishly.

“Hello, y/n. I’m Holly, we spoke on the phone the other day.” The woman says, introducing herself straight away and holding out a hand for you to shake which you do, nodding at her words and quietly thanking her when she offers to take your suitcase for you.

“Are you taking me straight to his house?” You ask as you stop outside Holly’s car, waiting as she loads your suitcase into the boot of her car before she turns back to face you.

“We’re going to have you meet your dad in a café first, a nice neutral setting for the both of you and I’ll be there to help ease you guys into everything.” Holly says, her bright smile never wavering when she speaks as she rounds the car and gets in the driver’s seat, with you getting in the passenger seat.

You tried to distract yourself by taking in the views of what was going to be your new home, but you couldn’t stop the pounding of your heart. You hated that you were so nervous. He had never been there for you growing up. He wasn’t a dad to you. So why were you so nervous?

When Holly parked outside a small café that was nestled along Miramar’s beachfront, your nerves were now in full drive and when she moved to open her door, you remained seated.

“Is it too late to ask if I can get a flight back?” You ask, glancing over at Holly who settles back in the car seat to address you.

“It is, sweetie. Look, I understand that you’re nervous. But everything is going to be just fine. I promise you.” Holly says softly, her smile softening as she addresses you and for a moment, you believe her words. You get out of the car, close the door behind you and follow Holly into the café.

As soon as you enter the small building, your eyes are immediately surveying the people that are in the café, searching for whichever one is Pete Mitchell. Then you saw a man stand up, eyes studying you as he looked at you and Holly and you soon noticed Holly moving to approach him. He matched the man in the sparse photos you had of your father so that along with Holly greeting him with the same bright smile she had used on you made you figure that he had to be Pete Mitchell and as you slunk along to meet him, you took a deep breath and made sure to not show your emotions. You already had a feeling he more than likely didn’t want to take you in, he just had to because your mum insisted on it. You just wanted to be prepared for the worst.

“y/n… wow you’ve really grown up.” Is the first thing Maverick can bring himself to say as you stand opposite him.

“Yeah… that’s what happens over time.” You say dismissively, shrugging your shoulders half-heartedly and your gaze flicks away to the table Maverick is sitting at so you could avoid looking at him.

“Why don’t we take a seat?” Holly suggests, not letting the mood deter her as she grabs the back of one of the chairs and pulls it towards her to make room for her to sit down at the table with you and Maverick following her actions. You sit opposite Maverick awkwardly, neither of you knowing how to start a conversation with the other.

“So, y/n, how was the flight?” Holly starts, attempting to initiate a conversation.

“It was okay.” You say half-heartedly, barely glancing at either person sitting at the table with you.

“Was it a busy flight?” Maverick then asks, trying to get a bit more information out of you.

“This was my first time on a plane I don’t know what constitutes ‘busy’, but most of the seats were filled I guess.” Your words came out a little harsher than you intended but you weren’t all that fussed about the way your words came out.

“Well you made it here safely and that’s all that matters.” Maverick then says, a small smile on his face to try and make you feel more comfortable around him. Instead, all he got back was a small shrug and you avoiding his gaze. He knew it must be a hard adjustment for you, especially when you haven’t had contact with Maverick in years but all he wanted was for you to feel comfortable and supported and he was going to do his absolute best to do that for you.

The rest of the interaction that was overseen by Holly went about as well as you expected it to. The atmosphere was awkward and there was a slight tension from you. By the time Maverick was allowed to take you home, Holly pulled both of you aside separately and told you that you could call her whenever and that she’d do a home visit in the next few days to see how things were progressing and left the two of you alone outside the café after handing you your luggage.

“Let’s get you settled in at home.” Maverick says after a minute or two of awkward silence between the two of you, gesturing with his head for you to follow him which you do so slowly, not in any rush to get to this new house. You load up your luggage, ignoring Maverick’s attempts to help you before getting in the backseat of the car, sitting behind the driver’s seat so Maverick couldn’t see you as easily.

“You can sit up front with me for the journey home, you know?” Maverick offers, turning around to glance at you sitting in the back of the car.

“I prefer sitting in the back.” You answer simply, already moving to put your headphones on you can just ignore everything on the journey to where you’d be living from now on. You hated that Maverick was calling it ‘home’. It may be home to him. But it could never be a home to you. Maverick watched sadly as you put your headphones in and adjusted the way you were sat so you were fully angled towards the window before he turned to face the front and began the drive to his house.

When he finally pulled into the driveway of the house, you weren’t shocked by what greeted you. It was an average-sized house in a small neighbourhood. Before Maverick even had time to turn around and talk to you, you were instantly climbing out of the car and heading to the boot of the car to pull your suitcase out, leaving Maverick alone in the car as he let out a small sigh before getting out of the car himself and crossing to the front door of his house to unlock the door and enter the house with you following behind.

As you enter the house, you follow Maverick when he leads you upstairs, opening a door and taking a step back for you to enter which you do. You glance around the room, it is practically bare, with white walls, and nothing more than a bed, wardrobe, and bedside tables.

“I’m sorry it’s so plain. I never really used this room. But you can decorate it however you want. I have a few days booked off work, so maybe we could get some things and decorate your room.” Maverick says, not daring to move an inch beyond the doorway as he watches you place your rucksack on the bed and take in the room. As Maverick had expected, you offered him no more than a mere shrug and noncommittal hum at his suggestion. Maverick was really trying to form some sort of bond with you. To try to make up for the years lost. But you clearly wanted nothing to do with him, and as much as it broke his heart, he couldn’t do any more than extend the olive branch and hope you one day take it. He didn’t want to overstep beyond that, so he nodded at your hum and headed downstairs.

You spent the rest of the day unpacking your belongings, hanging clothes up and storing things away before you finally placed the picture of you and your mum on your bedside table, so you always had her with you. As you tucked your suitcase under your bed, you heard Maverick calling you for dinner and as much as you didn’t want to go downstairs, the smell of food that was travelling up the stairs and into your room was making your stomach growl like nobodies business so you got up and went down the stairs, following the sounds of plates clanking to lead you to the kitchen but as you walked through the living room, your eyes drifted along the photos on the wall and you stopped opposite one particular photo. It was a photo of Maverick with a moustached man, both of them smiling for the camera with an arm wrapped around the other’s shoulders. You regarded the photo quietly, wondering who this man was. Did Maverick have another kid? As if he sensed you looking at the photos, Maverick emerged from the kitchen and approached you carefully.

“Having a look at the pictures?” He muses softly, a slight laugh tagged onto the end of his sentence to let you know he wasn’t upset or angry at you.

“Is he your son?” You ask, your gaze not moving from the picture of the two men.

“No. Not biologically at least. Bradley’s my best friend’s kid. But I helped raise him so he’s kind of like a son to me.” Maverick explains and you can’t help but feel a pang in your heart at his words. This Bradley guy got to have Maverick in his life as a father figure and you didn’t get your dad at all. It wasn’t fair.

“Come on, let’s eat.” Maverick urges softly, noticing the sadness in your eyes and hoping he didn’t just ruin everything between the two of you. You begrudgingly follow Maverick to the small table and eat your food in silence, barely giving Maverick more than a short sentence answer to any of his questions. The second you finished your meal you asked to be excused and retreated back to your room, leaving Maverick alone downstairs. He didn’t bother you for the rest of the night, only sticking his head in your room before he went to bed. Despite everything, he couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared on his face when he saw you curled under your duvet, fast asleep.

“Goodnight, y/n/n.”

Over the days Maverick had off, you tended to avoid as much interaction with him as possible. You’d have meals with him and hold the briefest of conversations but that was your limit. And you never called him dad. You didn’t want to get attached to someone who didn’t want you when you were a baby and was now stuck with you. When Holly came for one of her home visits, you tried to ask if you could be placed elsewhere but she was insistent that you see it through with Maverick. She urged you to give him a chance, and that she could tell he was genuinely trying to form a connection. She could understand that you were upset with the loss of your mother and having to move in with someone who was hardly present in your life, but your mum had picked him for a reason, and you needed to trust her judgement.

After Holly left, you spent the rest of the day in your room mulling over her words. You knew your mum had never steered you wrong before. But sending you to live with someone you hardly knew just felt wrong to you. When night fell, your thoughts were getting too much you decided you needed to head out to get some fresh air and to think some more. You didn’t have a destination in mind, you still hardly knew the area, you just knew you needed to be out of the house. You were able to sneak downstairs and out of the house with zero difficulty, Maverick was napping on the sofa so keeping quiet and getting out of the door was no difficult task for you. Once you made it to the end of the road, you pulled out your phone and searched for directions to the beach.

About five minutes after you left, Maverick’s eyes blinked open and he stretched his arms above his head as he stood from the sofa, wincing as his back let out a slight crack. He knew he needed to stop falling asleep on the sofa, but he couldn’t help it. Deciding it was time to finally retire to bed, he headed upstairs, heading straight to your door. Since you arrived, he always stuck his head in your room to whisper goodnight to you, despite the fact you were always asleep when he did it. This time, however, when Maverick opened the door, he couldn’t see any figure in the bed. The little slither of light that snuck through the crack didn’t illuminate any evidence that you were in bed and Maverick couldn’t help but instantly be in panic mode. He couldn’t find any evidence that you were still in the house, so he was soon grabbing his keys and leaving the house to search for you.

You sat on a little bench overlooking the beach, not too far from where the café you first met Maverick was, listening to the gentle sounds of the waves against the shore, your eyes drifting up to the starry sky and bright moon that hung within it.

“Mum, you wanted me to come here for a reason, right? You think Pete would take care of me and that I’d finally have a father figure, don’t you?” You mutter quietly up to the sky, wondering if your mum would give you some sort of sign that she was listening. Instead, you heard the revving of a motorbike engine and Maverick’s worried voice calling out to you.

“y/n, oh thank god I found you.” Maverick says, relief beyond evident in his tone as he sits down next to you on the bench, leaving a gap between the two of you.

“How did you know I was here?” You ask quietly, briefly glancing over at Maverick before your gaze flicked back to the stars.

“I didn’t. I just drove around looking for you. But I did know you haven’t explored the area much, so my best guess was near the café. I wouldn’t have stopped looking for you all night if I hadn’t found you here.” Maverick explains, watching you under the dim street lamp as your eyebrows furrow slightly and you turn to look at him properly.

“Really?” You ask, your voice timid as you look at Maverick.

“Really. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. I promised your mother I’d look after you.” Maverick explains, watching as your eyes widen at his words.

“You promised… did you talk with my mum before she died?” You then ask, tears threatening to build in your eyes. In response to your question, Maverick pulls his wallet out of his pocket and produces a small picture, handing it over to you and you instantly study the picture. It was of you; it couldn’t have been taken more than six months ago. It was of you out in the park, sitting on a bench and completely oblivious to your mum taking a picture of you.

“She liked to send me regular updates on how you were doing, as well as pictures. She told me you get pretty good grades in your classes, which makes me proud. The last time I spoke to her must’ve been just before or around the time she got sick because I never heard from her after that. But she made me promise to look after you if something happened years ago. I didn't think anything would ever happen. But I never stopped caring for you.” Maverick explains as you quietly hand back the photo, the tears in your eyes beginning to show under the street lights.

“If you cared so much, why did you stop visiting?” Unlike Maverick would’ve expected, your voice held no harshness to its tone, just defeat. You were just a kid who’s been deprived of a father figure your whole life.

“My job is dangerous. And I know what it feels like to lose your parents when you’re young. I just couldn’t put you through that, so I thought it was best I stayed away to protect you. It hurt so much to say goodbye knowing I probably wasn’t going to see you again.” Maverick says truthfully, fighting back tears of his own as he looks at the picture, knowing he was the reason you grew up without a father figure in your life. He couldn’t help but beat himself up over it every day. He had stepped in for Bradley when Goose died but the second, he had a kid of his own, he backed off and abandoned you.

“Did your mum ever try to move on?” Maverick then asks quietly, a sad tone you’re not used to hearing from him in his voice, as you watch him.

“No she didn’t. Truthfully, I don’t think she stopped loving you. She always spoke so highly of you.” You admit, shrugging lightly as you remember all the times your mum had told you about Maverick and never spoke a bad word about him. At your words, a tear or two escaped Maverick’s eyes and he let out a shuddering breath.

“I don’t deserve that. She deserved to be happy.” Maverick says, more tears escaping him as you wipe at your own eyes.

“She was happy. The time she had with you was clearly all she wanted and needed.” You say, not wanting Maverick to feel guilty or upset for something out of his control, a complete turnaround from the way you had been acting prior.

“I’m going to make it up to you. I promise. If you need me at all, I will be there. You’re not alone anymore.” Maverick promises, and you nod at his words, finally believing his words before you move closer to him and carefully wrap your arms around him for a hug. At first, he was tense, but soon he reciprocated the hug, holding you tight as you tried your best not to cry on his jacket.

“Can we go home now?” You ask as a small breeze blows by, making you shiver slightly, even in Maverick’s warm embrace.

“Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go home.” He says softly, helping you to your feet and leading you to his motorbike where he instructs you on how to hold on safely before taking you back home, making sure he goes a bit slower than he usually does when on his bike. When you make it home, you’re stifling yawns as you trudge upstairs to get ready for bed and by the time you finally crawl into bed, your eyes are already closing but you force them open when you hear Maverick quietly asking if he could enter your room. For the first time since you arrived, Maverick crosses to your bedside and smiles down at you.

“Goodnight, y/n.” He says quietly, leaning down and pressing a small kiss on the top of your head, smiling as a smile covers your own face while you snuggle further into your bed. Just as Maverick reaches the door, he hears you speak up.

“Goodnight, dad.”

Maverick swore that the large smile that appeared on his face didn’t shrink until the next day. Until you called him ‘dad’ again the next morning.

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months

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Hello! Hope you're having a good day/night/afternoon. Also can I request a Mikaela Hyakuya, Ferid Bathory and Yuichiro Hyakuya x nezuko reader, the reader has nezuko's powers and is basically nezuko. And they see their s/o (nezuko reader) fighting someone for the first time and when the reader was fighting with the person she awakes her full form like nezuko did when she was fighting Daki and she is basically destroying the person she is fighting with, how would they reacted? (Btw you can pick who the reader is fighting with)

That is all thank you <3

Nezuko Reader | Yandere Owari No Seraph

Landing in this apocalyptic and futuristic world with your sibling, there's much to learn. Depending on who you both fall into the hands of it’s a different experience. Immediately your difference from those around you is seen and usually greatly admired. Hence their further surprise when you show a side they’d never seen before:

Yuichiro Hyakuya

Saving your sibling on patrol is where they first meet

Of course, the box they carry is a great point of mystery

One that’s revealed when the sun has gone down and they're safely at the base

“Whoa! You carry your family on your back? Like all the time?”

“Yeah! This way I can always protect them.”

“That’s a really great idea! I want to try it sometime.”

He definitely feels close to you and your sibling

Absolutely loving the bond you two have

Adoring your playful but silent nature

So more likely than not you’ll find himself inserting himself into your sibling's time

Not necessarily to offer himself as a brother particularly but as a part of the family

As he plans to be anyway

Fighting alongside your katana-wielding sibling he finds they work pretty well together

But this particular adversary is especially hard to beat, taking advantage of the night the whole team is struggling

At this point, Yuu is debating calling on Asura but is stopped by his amazement

You look different, no longer childish or pocket-sized

Now he believes your sibling’s description of you as a demon

He watches with envy when your brother has to calm you down

He vows that next time he’ll be the first to soothe your soul

“(Y/n) you’re so sweet so kind…I’m happy to make you a part of my family.”

Mikaela Hyakuya

He probably meets your sibling first when he’s called on a mission to investigate an anomaly on their turf

Put off by his….partner’s aggressive tone and command your sibling is adamant about not causing trouble

But his….partner…gross seems to hit a sore spot when they demand they open the box

The sun is setting and your sibling is putting up a fairly good fight

But poor humans..,all it takes is one hit and debilitating crunch and their down

But the moon is high and the box opens to reveal you

A demon that easily bests their calvary and gives his partner a run for his money

It takes his common sense to threaten your sibling’s life before you halt your massacre

Once you're in custody he shows an express interest in your case

Promising to himself and you that he’d protect your sibling

“Your brother…reminds me of someone else I know. Someone I’m looking for.”

He sees himself in you, turned into something against your will and trying to survive in a world that demands you succumb to your horrid instincts

When he makes a break for it he’s taking you both with him

Once he finds his Yuu then you both can go far far away

So that you both can be monsters away from this horrible world

Even if you struggle and swipe at him

He’s going to help you

He’s going to do this

Your agreement isn’t needed

He’s used to dealing with a rowdy troublemaker

This is no obstacle to him

“Calm down. When I’m done you’ll get your sibling back and that’s all that matters right? Then you will listen to me. And only me.”

Ferid Bathory

A part of the welcoming envoy that comes off too aggressively

A different-smelling human with a box on their back of course he’s interested

Even more so when they fight him upon questioning about that box

Only to find he’s completely at a disadvantage with the animalistic rage that you come out with

“Oh my, to think I thought I knew only one vampire with a sibling complex.”

He is intent on taming you constantly trying to force you to drink human blood or better yet eat human

But you won’t cave

But neither will he

With your sibling in custody and you at his disposal

He feels as though no one can stop him

After all, it worked out the first time he broke a family up

He doubts it wouldn’t work now

He just hopes you don’t freak out like you did before

That was scary it slows progress

“When you finally let go and succumb to your hunger I’ll be there.”

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azrielgreen · 1 year

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The Way It Shouldn't Be - Part Two

It doesn't happen again for weeks.

Actual fucking weeks.

Steve hates that ever since the last time, when Eddie completely gave him the slip (sneaky fucker) he's been actively looking for him. Scanning the hall during lunch, listening out for any sign of Eddie's voice.

Looking for him.

With zero fucking results because Eddie just skipped school for a week apparently. Steve's never known anyone to do that. No matter how bad shit is, you go to school.

But that first week, Eddie's just absent in Steve's periphery. Gone.

And the world is duller for it.

School is almost unbearable in comparison to the times before when Steve could at least look forward to lunch because he'd grab Eddie, fake some bullshit and then drag him away.

Fuck him wherever was nearest, flimsy excuses disintegrating beneath the heat of a desire that was never quelled with indulgence, but galvanised.

Eddie's back in school the following week but he doesn't meet Steve's gaze once. Avoids him entirely. Steve doesn't stage anything, he doesn't even try to get near him but he burns to. He aches to run into Eddie and smash this distance between them.

He's angry. Confused.

Irrationally horny.

But most of all, he's sad. Guilty. Knows he fucked up and even if he can't understand the degree of it, he knows he did something he shouldn't have. Crossed a boundary.

Steve can't stop thinking about him.

And Eddie's made it clear this thing between them is done, to stay away.

He's respecting it.

He's respecting is so well the day it all goes to hell.

It happens in the parking lot, as most scuffles do. Steve's on his way to the Beemer, a weekend of drinking and moping ahead of him when he hears the unmistakable sounds of male violence and he turns to see a bunch complete wannabees kicking Eddie while he's down.

The jacket, the hair, his high tops. He'd know him anywhere and Steve is running before he knows what he's even gonna do and then it's just happening.

There are five of them and Steve doesn't think (never does, it's not his style) he just swings his best right hook and it lands so well, the guy goes right down, knocks into a station wagon. Steve is going fucking wild, he hasnt felt anger like this in years. Swinging, smacking, punching.

They don't fight back, they scatter and throw their stupid fucking hands up.

'Whoa, Steve, STEVE!'

With no one near Eddie now, Steve crouches low, hands on his shoulders. Eddie flinches. 'Hey, you're OK, it's me, it's Steve. You're OK.'

Eddie unfurls slowly, doesn't look at Steve but he nods.

The first guy Steve hit gets to his feet.

'The fuck, Harrington?' he demands breathlessly. 'He's not even-'

Steve draws himself to full height, invades the other boys space and them slaps him. Hard, demeaning, it hurts more than a punch, Steve knows.

The guy, Alex, closes his eyes, cheek red.

Doesnt fight back.

Wouldn't dare.

Rare days that Steve throws his weight around but today, oh he's happy to be King fucking Steve today.

'He's my dealer,' Steve tells Alex Carver, voice low and deceptively soft. He grips the lapels of Alex's shirt, expensive polo that Steve then uses all his strength to rip, to tear right down the V of the collar. Exposed, messed up. 'You don't touch him, understand?'

Alex endures Steve ripping his shirt open to the naval, eyes closed. He nods.

Steve then rearranges his collar so it's neat, brushes his shoulders off. 'You want a fight, come to me next time, you fuckin' pussy. I'll smack you silly and send you home to your Mommy looking like you got rolled again and that's a mercy. Now say sorry.'

Alex's jaw tightens. 'Sorry, Steve.'

'No, to him.'

Ugly blue eyes open, brow furrowed. 'He's trailer tr--'

Steve slaps him again, harder, uses the other hand so he doesn't see it coming. Both cheeks red and ruddy.

'Now you look like you got fucked up by a bitch you tried to ask out, huh? What's your Daddy gonna say if I piss on your sneakers? Think he'll be proud? Apologise to him, now.'

Alex shoots a venomous glare at Eddie, who's leaning against a car to stand. 'Sorry, Munson.'

Steve really wants to press, he wants to stay in this sickly space and make Alex regret it even more. Fuck him up, teach them all a lesson. No one touches Eddie ever again.

But Eddie touches Steve. Hand on his arm, like he can tell what he's about to do.

'C'mon.'

Steve jerks his chin at the others, giving them leave to scurry away and spread the word. Alex goes last, backs away like he's scared to turn his back on Steve and yeah, too fucking right, bitch.

When they're gone, Steve turns all his attention on Eddie and the anger melts like French vanilla ice cream during that one unbearable week in August.

'Fuck, that looks bad,' he says, hands hovering over Eddie's face. 'Split lip too, OK. Come on, I've got a first aid kit at home.'

Eddie eyes him warily. 'What?'

'Or straight to hospital? What about your ribs? Let me--'

'Steve,' Eddie says, tone stern. 'What the fuck are you doing?'

'You're hurt,' Steve says like that should explain absolutely everything. He blinks, maybe it's a little slower than it should be but he feels alert, feels powerful.

'Yeah, so?' Eddie looks like he's about to unload all these reasons Steve shouldn't care.

Steve rolls his eyes. 'Don't be a brat. Come on, I'll drive.'

Eddie's silent the entire way there.

Steve too.

He's thinking of what injuries he saw, which ones looked the worst. If Eddie's needs butterfly stitches, maybe.

'Your folks home?' Eddie's asks warily when they're outside the house.

Steve snorts. 'No. They're never here. Come on.'

Inside, Eddie lets Steve sit him down and clean the worst of the injuries. It's only when Eddie takes careful hold of Steve's wrists, seeks out and holds Steve's gaze that Steve even realises Eddie was talking to him.

'You're shaking,' Eddie says, voice low, eyes moving between Steve's own. 'Steve, you're shaking.'

'Am I?'

'Is it like...?' Eddie licks his lips nervously. 'Adrenaline?'

Steve looks down at his own hands, sees Eddie is completely right. He feels weird too, like he's seeing through a tunnel and there is only Eddie at the end.

'I uh... I don't know,' he laughs, vaguely astonished when he blinks tears down his face. 'Feel kinda fucked up, actually.'

Eddie's all drawn in shades of concern, of unreadable thoughts in those dark eyes and his lip is still bleeding a little. Steve wants to kiss it better, kiss it worse.

'Why did you do that?'

Steve's teeth are chattering slightly, but he manages a smile. 'Do what?'

'What you did.'

Steve wraps a light bandage around Eddie's knuckles, evidence he fought back hard enough to split skin. 'What, with Alex? Anyone would have done that.'

Eddie says, 'No one did. No one ever does.'

'Yeah, well. I guess that's changed now.'

'You made it sound like we were fucking.'

'I don't care, so long as he doesn't touch you again.'

'Why do you care who touches me?'

Steve can't take it a second long, leans in like he's falling and softly presses his lips against Eddie's; against the split, still wet with iron ore and red salt from the flesh vessel that contains Eddie Munson.

Eddie isn't rigid, he doesn't push away, but when he kisses Steve back, he makes this sound like maybe he's gonna cry.

He doesn't, though.

And Steve keeps the kiss gentle, soft and wet, devouring the red to keep what little of Eddie he can inside himself, where it's safer.

'I care. Isn't that enough?'

'Too much, Harrington,' Eddie whispers in a trembling exhale. 'You're too fucking much.'

Steve pulls away, swallows thickly, Eddie's blood and spit go down with his vague hopes and painfully specific desires.

'Yeah, I know. I'm sor--'

Eddie kisses his hard, knots his fingers in Steve's hair to tight it hurts, pulling him close and keeping him there.

'Lucky for you I'm a greedy motherfucker, huh?' he gasps, licking deep and dirty. 'God, you're fucking crazy, you know that? They call me freak, but what you to did to Carver-'

'Don't say his name while we're making out.'

Eddie laughs, low rumble offset by the way he sucks on Steve's tongue. 'Don't want him muddying the waters?'

'Can't believe he even touched you,' Steve pants, kneels in front of Eddie, goes for his belt buckle. 'Need to kiss you clean, all over.'

'Oh my god,' Eddie grits out. 'Steve, we shouldn't--'

'Then you can fuck me, yeah?' Steve leans up, kisses him again, mind spinning, heart cranking like a cog. Fucked up, feral, he'll never forget how small Eddie looked curled up like that. 'Take my virginity?'

Continued next Saturday...

#steddie #oonionchiver #steddie fic #fanfiction #my writing #spilled thoughts #SaturdaySmut #the way it shouldn't be

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marcellaasblog · 8 months

Note

Ok so I have a problem, I was wondering if you could write something of Eddie fucking the reader or just some type of smut activity during the slow part of Sweet Child of mine by Guns and Roses. Specifically the part after the guitar solo where Izzy’s and Axl keep saying “Where do we go”. CAUSE HOW IZZY SINGS IT OH LORD. since nobody gonna fuck me I need it fictionally. Make this shit dirty/ nasty. Idk fucking make this shit hot.

Ok but also have Eddie smoking a cig during this or he picks one up and hands it to the reader during that part of the song. I’m feral atm

Please and thank you. (This could be older Eddie too)

Your dirty, I like that.😧😏

Warning: so much smut and of course fluff.

Minor's DNI nsfw 18+

Author's notes:I hope I did you justice and Thank you for your request babe.💕

older Eddie x reader.

Music to my ears.

Eddie loved looking at your naked body. It was a piece of art to him a very special kind of art. He loves to roam your body looking at the beauty marks and all. He loved to see you so blissed out and gone from this world. He loved how Cock drunk you got, he loved the sweet sounds of your moans everytime he would fuck you into the bed. He loved it all. He loved you and he always made sure to show you.

Eddie has you between his legs your back to his chest fully naked as you could feel his hard Cock touch your back both of your sweaty body's melting into eachother as he is sucking, licking and biting your neck plunging your thick toy he bought you a couple of days ago inside of you. Eddie is making you a whiny mess rubbing your wet sensitive clit as he slowly goes in and out of your weeping hole. You looked at yourself and Eddie threw your body framed mirror that was set Infront of y'all's bed. You were watching Eddie fuck you. You were grabbing onto his hand guiding him in and out of your pussy as you take a couple of hits of your ciggerate letting the smoke out of your mouth as you dropped your head back on his shoulder letting your mouth open as your face srunches up and your chest heavily rise's up and down feeling Eddie's legs get tighter around yours locking you in place making sure you didn't move alot. Your moans get higher everytime getting louder then the blasting music that roams threw Eddie's room.

"Fuck baby you like this shit don't you? You like whatching me fuck you with a cock that isn't mine huh?" Eddie whispers on your neck sending chills down your body feeling your nipples harden and your pussy pulsing.

"mhm I Fucken love it." You whispered. Eddie slowly take the toy out of you causing you to whine as you clenched on nothing. Eddie giggled running the tip of the rubber cock threw your folds down to your asshole smiring all the cum that leaked out of your pussy he runs the toy up and down your hole and around your clit slapping it a few times making your body jerk up. Eddie grabs the ciggerate from your hand before you could drop it.

"Fuck baby look at that shit, so fucken wet and ready for me." Eddie said taking a puff of the hafe finished ciggerate blowing the smoke onto your neck as he rams the toy back onto your tight little hole. You gasp digging your nails into Eddie pale thighs.

"Mhmm baby more I want more." You tell Eddie letting your back arch as Eddie slowly pumps the toy in and out, so hypnotized by the sound of your dripping pussy meeting the rubber cock he analyzed how everytime he push the toy so deep inside you your toes would curl and your pussy would clench so hard on the cock Eddie would have to wiggle it out of your tight grip.

Whoa, yeah

Whoa, oh, oh, oh

Sweet child o mine

Whoa, oh, whoa, oh

Sweet love of mine.

"yeah baby you want more?" Eddie mocked your whiney voice. You nod your head repeatedly rolling your hips as you reach down to your clit rubbing it at a brutal pase. Eddie growls looking ahead of y'all watching how fast you rubbed your clit and how blissful you looked with your eyes rolled back and how hard you were bitting your lip moving your hips to the rythem of the song. Eddie's violently moved your hand away from your clit filing the cigarette bud on the floor. He speeds up his pase as the guitar solo boom's threw his speakers. You gasp pushing your ass back into Eddie .

"Come on baby follow the rythem, mhmm ,yeah just like that, making me so proud." You look ahead of you as you watched how Eddie brutaly spammed the toy in and out of you, Eddie's face squinched up bitting down on his lip . You could hear how hard he was breathing threw his nose ,studying your body rutting the pink toy in and out of you. Your moans get higher as you rolled your eyes back letting your head fall on Eddies shoulders, he grabs onto your neck pushing your ear to his lips.

"Keep your eyes open baby and look at yourself while I fuck you okay." Eddie growls into your ear as he brutaly sucks in your neck slamming the cock into your pussy as he wiggles the toy in your wet hole pushing the toy into you more not caring take it out of you.

"FUCKKK EDDIE PLEASE I WANNA CUM I WANNA CUM!" You whine as Eddie giggles.

"yeah you wanna cum. You wanna cum on daddy's dick baby?" Eddie removes the toy from your pussy setting it aside as he pushes you down on your stomach getting up on his knees as he drags your ass twords his cock. Eddie strokes his dick letting his head fall backwards before he slams into you with no warning.

"Fuck yes! The toy got you so nice and streached out for me." Eddie slams into you at a brutal pase as his hips follow the rythem of the guitar solo blasting threw his speakers. Eddie hands come down on your sweet thick ass slapping it as he sees the fat of your ass jiggle everytime it bounces back on his.

Eddie follows the rythem slamming into you. You tried to get back up on all four but Eddie would just push your head back down into y'all's mattress.

"FUCK YES!" Eddie grunted smacking your ass . Your a wet mess at this point spit is Coming out of your mouth, your eyes roll back as your thoughts disappear into the rythem of the song. You look forward giving your full attention to Eddie as you see his eyes widen staring down watching his cock disappear into your tight little cunt his eyebrows are srunched up as his mouth falls open. You bit down on your lip as you slowly push back onto Eddie following the rythem of him.

"More!" You moan wiggling your ass as Eddie hits your ass rubbing the red mark he grunts and moans and before the solo stops Eddie picks up the toy as he makes eye contact with you.

"yeah you want more I'll give you more." Before you could answer Eddie wiggles the toy into your pussy as he fucks you slowly loosing you up to fit him and the toy that still had your creamy white cum sliding down it's rubber tip.

"OH FUCKKK OH SHIT TOO MUCH BABY TOO MUCH!" Eddie giggles as he pouts.

"you SAID you wanted more so." Eddie slams the cock into you as it rubs onto his cock. "Fucked TAKE IT." Eddie growled as the solo finished.

Where do we go?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go?

Ohh, oh, where do we go?

Where do we go now?

Oh, where do we go now?

Where do we go? (Sweet child)

"oh fuck love this pussy so much baby she taking me so well." Eddie works the toy in and out of you as it squishes inside of you rubbing up against Eddie's throbbing cock. You loved how full you filled letting your boyfriend do whatever he wants to your needy cunt.

Where do we go now?

Ay,ay,ay, ay, ay, ay, ay ,ay

Where do we go now

Ah ,ah

"Mhm just for you baby she love how you make her feel so good so full." You moan out bitting down on the bed as your focas on the voices of Izzy and axel singing the hell out of their outro. You could see Eddie starting to bop his head to the rythem of the guitar outro as he fasten his pase his Right hand holds onto you soft hips as his left hand is at the base of the fake balls of the toy slowly painfully sliding it in and out of you letting y'all's shared cum drip down onto his balls and bedsheets.

Where do we go

Oh,Where do we go now

Oh where do we go

Oh where do we go now

"mhm yeah you like how my Cocks fill in your pussy baby."

"yes yes I love it so much." You cry out feeling your stomach flex and your muscles tense. Eddie could feel you tighting around his cock he could hear how you moans got more pitchy and louder. He could sence that you were close to cumming so Eddie wiggles out the toy letting your cum drip down from the tip of the rubber cock onto your asshole. He looked at it in amaze seeing how drenched you got the rubber cock and himself .Eddie chokes on his moan as he slides out of you leaving you empty and whiney.

"No, no please baby don't stop." You pled Eddie wiggling your ass up in the air.

"shh give me a second baby I just wanna taste you." Eddie said bending his head down as he licks a fat line from your drenched hole all the way up to your asshole he repeats it once again,but this time he opens up your lips as he pushes his long tounge into your pussy he hums into your pussy sending a vibration down to your clit. Your crying and whiney telling Eddie how good he made you feel,your eyes rolled back as your ass started to rock up against his face. Eddie lifts up his head kissing you left ass cheek as he quickly turns you around onto your back grabbing your legs as he locks them around his neck you gasp in a shock as he punges right into your cunt once again.

"FUCK GONNA FILL THIS PUSSY UP WITH SO MUCH OF MY CUM." Eddie threw his head back as his bangs and hair sticks to his sweaty forehead an neck.

"UH fuckkk yessssss baby faster please daddy FASTER" You tell Eddie as he doesn't take his eyes off of you Eddie grabs onto your left boob squeezing onto it as he growls from your cunt tighting around him.

Where do we go

Oh, where do we go now

"you gonna cum baby gonna cum for daddy princess gonna squeeze my fucken cock as I pound into your pretty little pussy letting me fill you up as my cum leaks out of your tight hole huh baby."

"yes, yes, yes, I wanna cum wanna cum on your cock I want you to cum in me."

Now, now, now now, now, now,now

Eddie grabs ahold of your neck with both of his big hands squeezing down on your throat making your eyes role back and your mouth open as Eddie leans down spitting into your mouth.

"beg me .Beg me to cum" Eddie told you reaching down to your pussy as he slap's it.

"I said to FUCKEN BEG ME !"

SMACK

Eddie's thick hands meet your sensitive pussy.

"OH FUCK, PLEASE LET ME CUM, PLEASE, I WANNA CUM AROUND YOUR FAT COCK ,I WANNA CUM SO FUCKEN BADLY DADDY ,PLEASE LET ME CUM,PLEASE LET ME CUM, I PROMISE ILL BE GOOD, SO GOOD FOR YOU,ONLY YOU JUST PLEASE LET ME CUM!"

"FUCK, FUCK YEAH BABY CUM ON DADDY'S COCK . I WANT YOU TO CUM SO HARD, LET GO FOR ME BABY?" you nod your head as Eddie pounds into your pussy like his own personal Fleshlight. Your lost in the noices of the music fading away and replaced with the sounds of Eddie's balls slapping the bottom of your ass and Eddies deep ruts and growls coming from his mouth as you tighten around him.

"FUCK ,FUCK, FUCKKK, EDDIE IM CUMMING, IM CUMMING, IM FUCKEN CUMMING UHHHHH!" Eddie holds your body down as you came around his cock.

"FUCK YEAH THATS IT BABY LET IT OUT LET IT OUT FOR DADDY!" Eddie fucks you threw your high as he presses his thick fingers onto your clit rubbing it violently making your body over stimulate as it jerks up and you choke on your own cry's.

"FU- FUCKK TOO MUCH DADDY TOO MUCH." You studded trying to push Eddie's away from your throbbing pussy.

"nu uh baby you can take it you got it just let daddy cum okay let daddy fill up your tight little pussy, let daddy use you." Eddie fasten his speed rubbing your clit, you could feel it all being to much for you.

Sweet child

Before you could warn Eddie, your juices start to spray out flying everywhere on Eddie's cock drenching him. It caught Eddie in surprise as he pushing into you bending your legs to the side of your face.

"FUCK YES THATS IT BABY ,LET IT OUT, SOCK DADDY'S COCK LIKE A GOOD GIRL YOU ARE."

Sweet child of mine

Eddie grunts fucking himself into your drenched pussy as his thick cum shoots inside of your cunt slowly moving his hips as he rides out his high. His body twitches as he ruts into you one more time hearing you small cry's from your mouth.

"Fuck that was so good baby you did so well." Eddie whispered into your ear kissing you down to your neck leaving his soft cock inside of you too scared to pull out not wanting any of his cum to leak out of your his pussy .

"mhm did you cum in me?" You asked as Eddie giggled glad to see you fully concess.

"mhm you made me cum so much baby made daddy feel so good." Eddie answered back kissing your wet lips moving your hair out of your face as you hands whrom his back sending chills down his spine.

Eddie slowly removes himself from your cunt as y'all both moans from the sensitivity running threw y'all's body. Eddie watches as his cum leaks out of your pussy he brings his two fingers up to your hole gathering all his cum stuffing it back into you.

"mhm were definitely doing this again."

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie x fem!reader

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halfmoondaze · 9 months

Note

Maybe a breeding concept? I can’t give too much details because I don’t know what Im thinking right now besides the topic of breeding😭

A little help

Y/n woke up late and by then, Jack had already left to go to the studio.

Feeling a too familiar sensation between her legs, she rushed to the bathroom thinking she was on her period, only to realize she was ovulating.

Surprisingly she didn’t have a lot of cramps, but for the most part she was feeling extremely sensitive.

The moment Jack came back from the studio, he looked particularly hot. Y/N could tell he made time to hit the gym as he had his damp curly hairs sticking to his forehead, as well as wearing his gym clothes that exposed his muscular frame.

“Hey babe” he said as he entered your shared home.

“Hi” Y/n said walking past him upstairs.

Jack looked at her confused and walked over her.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“No kiss?” he paused. “Did I do something to upset you?”

Y/N face softened as Jack looked worried.

“No, of course not”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s- its nothing”

“C’mon you can tell me”

After a long pause she blurt out “Im horny”

“Oh is that so?” he let out a smile.

“Ok take that smile off your face”

“Well how am I supposed to react to that?” he laughed.

Y/n groaned and attempted to move past him.

“Whoa hold up” he stopped her.

She looked at him. “What?!”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you” he paused. “Do you need me to help you with anything?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, and then: “I need you”

Lust was evident in her eyes.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard to say, wasn’t it?” he said moving a piece of her from her face, his tone of voice suddenly dropping to being lower. “You want me to put a baby in you?”

She nodded.

In that moment Jack’s phone went off.

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Ok, lets do something. I have to take this, but be a good girl and wait for me upstairs” he paused for a moment. “Naked”

“Yes sir”

Jack smiled feeling turn on by Y/N choice of words.

Before she could leave, Jack took her by the waist and pulled her close and kissed her.

“Don’t keep me waiting” she whispered.

“Promise”

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sanguineterrain · 1 year

Text

no more lonely nights - s.h.

Summary: Steve comes home from Starcourt, bruised and battered. And you're there. You always are.

Pairing: best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings/tags: s3 beaten up Steve, my poor little meow meow. Vomit, hurt Steve, friends to lovers, sharing a bed. Reader's a swell gal, and, to no one's surprise, Steve is a sweetheart.

Notes: heads up that Steve IS thinking clearly; the drugs have worn off by the end. This takes place in s3, reader and steve are 18+, etc.

****

The flash of headlights rouses you from sleep. Checking your watch tells you that it's a little past midnight. You push yourself onto your knees, squinting at the red taillights. Beneath the streetlamp, you can just make out the maroon BMW humming in the Harringtons’ driveway. A moment later, the driver's door flies open and a figure hunches over the side. Steve.

He grasps the inside handle and stays like that for less than a second. Then he throws up.

You're out of bed in an instant.

Steve dry heaves a couple times, his coughs and gasps echoing on the asphalt. You slip on your thin, silk robe—a present from Steve—and haphazardly tie the belt. Your own parents are gone for the weekend to visit a friend, so slipping on your shoes and running across the street in your pajamas draws no questions.

The block is dead. The silence is thick in the dark; the only sound is Steve's car. You run across the road and carefully step around the sick, sliding a gentle hand over Steve’s bicep. He flinches so hard he hits his head on the top of the door.

“Whoa, hey! Hey, Steve, it’s me, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N?” he croaks, blindly searching for your hand.

You hold his hand and rest your other on his shoulder in case he loses balance. Steve squeezes weakly.

“Hey,” you say, softer. “Did you drive home drunk?”

“No,” he manages, then sits up.

You gasp.

Steve's face is covered in blood and badly swollen, his right eye sporting the largest shiner you’ve ever seen on him. Yellow and purple bruises bloom along his face and neck. His Scoops uniform has spots of blood and is torn in about a hundred places. You feel as sick as he does.

“Steve, oh my—” Your fingers ghost over his bruises. “What happened?”

“Russians. At Starcourt. They opened a portal or something. Billy, he's…"

Steve scrunches his brow hard. You hush him, not wanting him to delve into what is no doubt a frightening memory. Then you lean in and turn off the car.

“Okay, alright. We’ll talk about it later. Can you walk?”

“Um… yeah, yeah," he says, not sounding too certain. "Just gimme a sec. Feel kinda dizzy.”

“You shouldn’t have driven yourself home, Steve," you say, heart in your throat. "Couldn’t someone else have given you a ride? Mrs. Byers? Hopper?"

“Didn’t wanna bother anyone. ‘M fine.”

You crouch as best you can so you're level with him. He looks at you with droopy eyes, mouth parted. Shamefully, you wonder what it would be like to kiss him right now, despite the cut on his bottom lip. With careful fingers, you touch his less injured side, grazing over a smaller cut. He winces.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

He smiles, pained and sweet.

“‘S okay. Did I wake you? You didn’t have to come down.”

Your brows furrow.

“You’re hurt, Steve. Of course I came down.”

He shakes his head, breathing raspy.

“You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to.”

He looks at you, sleepy and swollen. You tuck a bit of hair behind his ear before you can think about it.

“Ready to go inside?” you ask.

“Mm, think so."

You roll up the sleeves of your robe and sling your arm under Steve’s armpit. He follows you up, not leaning as much weight on you as you want. You lock the car and hobble over to the front steps, Steve in tow. He braces himself against the brick while you open the door. Then you heft him inside. Steve's head lolls onto your shoulder.

"Stay awake, Stevie," you urge, jostling his arm. "Just for a little longer, promise."

"'M good," he mumbles. "Jus’ need a shower. Spent a good chunk of the night on the bathroom floor."

He hisses when you both turn the corner. You stop, turning so you can see his face. Your hand hovers unsurely over his ribs.

"What hurts?"

"No, 's just a little bruised. Finally won a fight though." Steve's grin makes butterflies flit in your belly, despite him looking like he's been shoved into a meat grinder. "Proud of me?"

"No, Steve. I'm glad you're home safe but I don't want you in any fights. You need to take care of yourself," you say, slowly helping him into the bathroom. "I know you wanna look out for the kids but you're killing yourself doing it."

"Better I get hurt than them," he declares. "Better me than Robin or Dustin or anybody."

You help him sit on the edge of the tub and take the alcohol and gauze from the medicine cabinet. Steve looks up at you with wet, trusting eyes.

"This is gonna sting," you warn.

"Yeah," Steve nods, bracing himself with one hand on the lip of the tub.

You cup his face and gently swab the cuts. He's quiet as you do so, gazing at you with those big brown eyes.

"What were you doing up?" he asks when you finish.

"Just couldn't sleep with the house so empty."

You don't mention the fact that you'd been waiting for Steve's car to pull in. That you've done so everyday this summer. No one, including Steve, will tell you details about the strange happenings in Hawkins. Still, it's all you can do to not follow him into whatever maw of danger he finds himself in. And it's only because of Steve that you stay put.

I can't lose you, he'd pleaded one late night when you'd asked. I care about you too much to get you mixed up in this shit. Don't come, please.

So you hadn't. You regret listening.

"You can't sleep a lot?" Steve asks.

You hum, not wanting him to worry. "Sometimes."

"You should call me. I'm usually awake too."

This close you feel Steve's warmth. His hands are dutifully planted on the tub. Every time you touch him, his hands twitch, like he wants to move. To hold.

"Usually?" you ask.

"I have trouble sleeping these days," he admits. "I thought—my folks are gone all the time. If anything got me, no one would know. No one would even…"

"I would," you interrupt. "I would care. And I'd do everything to get you back."

Steve's silent as you put everything away. You help him stand once more. He's wobbly, leaning on the tiles to pull off his shirt with one hand. The glimpses of freckled skin make you swallow hard. You focus on the plaid shower curtain.

"Are you, um, hungry?" you manage.

Steve's biceps swell as he tugs his shirt off. You turn around when you see the smattering of dark hair on his chest, refusing all temptation.

"You don't have to cook for me, Y/N. I can manage a—"

"So that's a yes."

"You should–should sleep," he mumbles, hissing at a cut or bruise. Maybe both. "I know you worked today."

"Steve." You turn around, so exasperated you have to face him. Steve's only in his briefs. Oh God. "I, uh…"

"Pervin' on me?" he smirks, hands on his hips.

After being friends with Steve for so long, you should be used to his easy confidence. Steve's always been open with his body. You panic anyway.

"No!" you yelp. "No. Sorry. I'm–I'm going downstairs. You're not gonna fall in, are you?"

Steve chuckles, smirk softening into a smile.

"I think I can manage not falling in."

"Okay. Right." You leave the bathroom, closing the door almost all the way. Fuck. "Yell if you need something. Eggs okay?"

You wait outside the door for a response. When there's none, you lean in.

"Steve? Are you okay? Ste—"

He opens the door, tall frame blocking most of your view. You swallow hard, not knowing where to look. It's rude to stare at a guy's bare chest, right? Doubly so when he's your best friend, who's bloody and exhausted and just fought Soviets. You really are a perv.

"Y/N, c'mon. It's nearly…" Steve squints at the clock. "Jesus, three AM?"

"It's summer," you reason, eyes finally landing on his face. "I don't mind. I want to." Pathetic, pathetic.

"I just—I know we haven't spoken as much lately, which is my fault," Steve starts. "And I don't wanna drag you into this shit because you're going to college soon and you don't need this on your plate on top of everything and—"

"Steve. Hey. You're my best friend. I know you're out having fun with the lunch gang and Nancy Wheeler."

Steve makes a face.

"It's not like that with her anymore. You know that."

You hum. "Well, who's that girl at Scoops? Robin?"

"Robin, yeah." Steve smiles. "She's cool. You'd like her."

"I bet I would," you say softly, even though it hurts, hearing Steve say another girl's name.

But so what? Nothing you haven't suffered before. Last year was absolute hell, watching Steve remain stuck on Nancy.

The worst part is you. You're the one who can't pull away, who can't let him go. Steve was your friend long before he'd been anything of Nancy's or this Robin girl's. Still, you have no right to lay claim. You know this. And yet, you're here at three in the morning, ready to make him scrambled eggs.

Like you said. Pathetic.

"Y/N?"

"Huh?"

Steve has a strange look on his face. He can't hear your heart thumping in your chest, right?

"Sure you're not concussed?" he asks.

He touches your forehead. You squeak, darting backwards.

"I'm fine! Go shower. You have a lot of hair to get through."

You hurry out before Steve can respond. Your shoulders only relax when you hear the shower turn on and water rushes through the pipes. Now you can focus on making food. You're good at that. Making food holds no danger of your heartbeat ratcheting when Steve gets too close.

The eggs turn out just how Steve likes them: softly scrambled. You also fix toast and wash some strawberries because you know for a fact Steve hasn't been eating as well as he should.

He comes down a few minutes after you finish, still toweling his hair dry. You set the plate down at the kitchen island. He looks better, fresher. His face is still a mess but at least there's no visible blood. He wears the Talking Heads shirt you'd gotten him last year after forcing him to listen to their new album with you. On the bottom are plain blue boxers. Nothing special. Your heart palpitates.

"Smells good," Steve says, further exhausted after the shower. "Thanks, sweet."

You swallow at the name. "N-no problem."

He bites into a strawberry first. The juice stains his lips red. You find a spot on the ceiling that's particularly riveting.

"You cold?" he asks through a bite of egg. He dusts his hands of the toast crumbs, getting up to adjust the thermostat.

"No, I'm fine."

"You sure? You still have your robe on, Y/N."

"Oh. Well, I wanted to… stay modest."

Steve snorts. "Modest? Are we in the eighteen hundreds? I think I can handle your bare shoulders."

"Surprised you'd know that considering how many times you skipped history last year," you shoot back.

"Still passed, didn't I?" Steve grins triumphantly. "Solid B, baby."

"With my help."

Steve's expression melts into a fond smile.

"Yeah. I couldn't have done any of it without you. I'm a lucky guy."

He finishes his last square of toast and starts to get up to put his plate in the sink. You quickly beat him to it, resting a hand on his shoulder so he'll stay seated.

"Why're you so good to me?" Steve asks when you return.

You tilt your head, leaning on his chair. "Because you're my friend and you deserve it."

"You really think that?"

Your brows knit. "Of course I do."

He shakes his head. "We haven't even hung out this month. I just got totally wrapped up in the new job and the kids and I—"

"Steve," you say. "Where's all this coming from? I know you've been busy since your dad cut you off. I'm not mad about that."

"Well, I am," he huffs. "I wanted to hang out with you more, I swear. I just didn't want to lose you. You're my best friend and I could never lose you—I don't know what I'd do if–if—"

"Hey," you soothe. "Hey, hey. Steve, it's okay. I don't know what happened… something about Russians? Whatever, if you want to talk about it, I'm here. But right now, you're exhausted. Can you try sleeping?"

He looks at you with wet eyes. His fingers absently play with your robe belt.

"Promise it's okay?" he asks.

"Oh, Steve. I missed you. But you still have me. You always will, y'know?"

He pulls you into a hug. His face nudges the pudge of your belly. You fold and cradle his head.

"Missed you too," he mumbles.

Steve is like a furnace, soft with residual heat from the shower. He's always felt larger than life and tonight is no different. Even battered, Steve is Steve. Hugging him feels like an out-of-body experience.

"C'mon," you coax. "You've been up for nearly twenty four hours."

He stands. You step back, trying to smile. Steve's attempt to mirror you isn't much better. He looks at your hand, then his own.

"I'll see you in the morning? Or, well, afternoon.”

"Oh." Steve avoids your gaze, picking at a loose thread on the tablecloth. "Yeah, guess so."

"When are your folks coming back?"

Steve deflates further. "Dunno. They haven't returned my calls. Been gone for the whole summer."

You bite the inside of your cheek. Steve is a shiny, red apple in your Garden of Eden with his still damp hair and lovingly worn shirt. You need to go home.

"I just… I don't want to overstep," you say. You look up to the ceiling, take a deep breath. "It's really your girlfriend that should be here."

Steve's head snaps up.

"What? I don't have a girlfriend."

"You don't?"

He shakes his head.

"Nancy was my last."

Your chest lightens. Steve takes a step forward.

"You don't have to stay," he begins. "I just—it's so empty."

Damn it. Damn it.

"I'll… I'll stay for a few minutes," you say. "Just until you fall asleep."

He brightens. There's not much to bring Steve peace. You can do this thing for him.

And who are you kidding? You’re not exactly pulling teeth here.

You go to his room. You haven’t been here in months, since school let out. It’s the same, more or less. There are a few more photos; of you and Steve, of Steve and who is probably Robin. He still has the same plaid theme and the framed sports car photo you’ve teased him about for as long as you’ve known him.

Steve’s hand lands on your back. You jolt.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “Temperature okay?”

“I’m alright,” you say. “Does your face hurt? I could get some ice. Or Advil?”

Steve’s eyes go wide. He swallows.

“No. No drugs.”

His eyes seem to cloud over. You take his hand.

“Steve? Hey, you okay?”

He exhales, lids fluttering.

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m—the Russians…”

“Oh, Steve.”

You wrap your arms around him. Steve falls into your embrace, like the night has finally taken him down. His chin rests on your shoulder. You rub his back. His hair is fluffy and smells like lemon shampoo. You curl your fingers into a few strands.

“I’ve got you,” you murmur. “C’mon, Stevie.”

Slowly, Steve rises. You take him by the hand and lead him to the bed. You pull back the covers on his side. Steve slides into bed. His hair fans across the pillow.

Steve looks like an angel. You feel temptation creep again.

“You’ll stay, right?” he asks. “For a little while?”

You smile and undo your robe belt.

“Yes, Steve. I’ll stay.”

Steve’s seen you in pajamas and even in panties before. It’s no big deal, really.

That’s what you tell yourself when you’re down to a big t-shirt and your underwear.

Steve is a gentleman, of course. He doesn’t stare at you or comment. You clumsily climb into bed.

“Hey,” he says, pointing at your shirt. “We match.”

You look down at your “Remain in Light” shirt.

“Guess we’re meant to be,” you whisper, and immediately regret it.

But Steve smiles, eyes drooping.

“Yeah,” he hums. “Guess we are.”

You scoot up against the headboard and pat his shoulder.

“G’night, Steve.”

Steve frowns.

“Lie down. ‘S uncomfortable sitting up.”

You chew your lip. Steve looks so earnest, eyes like starlight. You swallow and shimmy down, under the covers.

He scoots closer. Your heart pounds.

“You want the light on?” you ask.

He hesitates, and you know he’s debating between being brave or being comfortable. You choose for him.

“I like the light on,” you say, and he relaxes.

There’s only a couple inches of space between you. Steve is soft and yours, bathed in orange light. You want to kiss him. You want a lot of things you can’t have.

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Steve.”

He pats the pillow for your hand. You link your fingers together.

“I’m happy I know you, Y/N,” he replies.

And there, in the dim light, safe under the covers that smell so much like Steve, you want to tell him. You want to tell him so badly how much you love him. How sick you feel seeing him bruised and bloodied. How you never want to see him like that again.

“Steve,” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

“I–”

The words crush your throat. God, he’s beautiful. You can’t lose him.

“Y/N?”

“Nothing,” you say in a rush of breath. “Never mind. Sorry. Go to sleep.”

Steve stares at you for a long moment. You gnaw the inside of your cheek.

“I thought about you,” he finally says. “When I was down there. I thought about you.”

“Steve?”

He closes the last few inches between you.

“I thought about what I’d say if I saw you again. What I’d do.”

“Steve,” you warn.

Steve reaches for your cheek. Your breath stutters.

“You’re exhausted,” you remind him. “Y-you’re not thinking clearly.”

“I am,” he promises. “Been thinking clearly for a while now.”

And then Steve kisses you. It’s chaste, barely a press of lips. You’re careful of his cut. His lips are chapped and smell like mint and antiseptic. Steve shifts closer and grunts. You pull back, instinctively cradling his ribs.

“Careful,” you say. “Careful, Steve.”

He smiles.

“You’re so good to me,” he says.

You lean in and rest your forehead on his.

“Always.”

He kisses your cheek again, unsure and fumbling like you’re his first. It’s sweet. God, he’s sweet.

“Please stay,” Steve whispers.

You nod.

“I will.”

You always do.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x yn #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #hurt comfort #season three steve harrington #scoops steve #hurt steve harrington

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whirlwindimagines · 1 year

Note

The Wolfwood write up you did had me in tears! I love that man so much and you’re giving us more content!

Would you be able to do this small request? The reader is minding her own business and a bunch of guys are hitting on her to where she’s noticeably uncomfortable. Maybe a certain Punisher steps in and tells them to back off to where he pulls the “That’s my girlfriend” card and the reader plays along with it even though she has a massive crush on him?

Hope that makes sense!

Thank you! I’m doing my best! Also, I love this trope, lol. I understand exactly what you're asking for. This is a fem reader but can be read for the most part as gender-neutral expect a couple of gendered terms. But I'm still going to put it down as a Fem!Reader. Also I don’t know why but, titles for Vash come to mind so easily and then I struggle with the Wolfwood titles 😭

'Cat got your tongue?'

Nicholas D. Wolfwood x Fem!reader

Bored out of your mind, you lean against the sidewall of the saloon. The others wanted a drink and that was fine with you, but you weren't in the mood for drinking tonight. Crossing your arms you sigh, man you should have asked Wolfwood for a cigarette, or just stolen one from him.

You flush letting your thoughts drift off to the undertaker, it was just a silly little crush you were sure it would go away with time. Besides there was no way, Wolfwood thought about you like that when there were so many other better choices.

‘Ugh’ you shouldn't be thinking like this, it was depressing, maybe you should just join the others. Pushing yourself off the wall, you're startled when two men join your side. Your hand twitches, but you still it, you don't have a weapon on you.

“Got a light?” One of the men asks, you relax, it's fine, you don't need to jump the gun every time. “Sorry no.” You say dismissively, waving a hand and ready to walk away. Your yanked back, eyes wide. One of the men had you by the wrist and didn't seem like they were going to let go.

“Whoa sweetheart, you don't need to be in such a hurry.” You cringe at the nickname, pulling your arm back, but are unable to get out of his grip. “My friends are waiting for me.” You say, voice nervous it's not a lie, but you see the two men share a look not believing you anyway.

“Sure, they are.” the other man closes in, panic surges through you and you freeze, like a Thomas in headlights. “You’d think your friends would have come looking for you by now.” One of them sneers, his tone snaps you out of your fear and you narrow your eyes.

“Let me go, now!” You snap, yanking your arm back, hard the movement catches the man off guard, it causes you to stumble your shoulder hitting into the wall of the bar hard. You don't have time to recover, when the man grabs you and shoves you into the wall holding you by the shoulders. “Alright it's not cute anymore, we can either do this the hard way or the easy way.”

You open your mouth to retort, but a familiar lazy drawl cuts through the tense air. “If you still want your hands, I’d let go of her.” Your gaze flickers to Wolfwood, he stands there casually lighting a smoke, you meet his eyes and your heart skips a beat.

To a casual observer, he looks unbothered by the scene in front of him, but you can see it the way he clenched down on the cigarette, the tenseness of his shoulders. He looks furious.

“Mind your own business man.” You look back at the man holding you and smirk, you can feel the shake in his hands, the nervous look in his eyes. Scared. Good is all you think, as Wolfwood takes a step closer, he reaches for then grabbing you by the arm and yanking hard.

You yelp as Wolfwood pulls you to him, he places you slightly behind him. Once you find your footing, you grip his sleeve, grounding yourself and making sure he doesn’t do something stupid. “You're messing with my girl, that makes it my business.” You blush brightly looking up at him, but you can see Wolfwoods face.

The two men look unsure now, you stick your tongue out at them, “Told you, I had someone waiting for me.” you snap, your grip on Nicholas tightening. One of the men steps forward, but his friend stops him saying it's not worth it and the two leave.

Your shoulders drop, as Wolfwood turns to look at you, placing his hands on your shoulders. You let out an embarrassing ‘Epp!’ noise, covering your mouth with your hands, Wolfwood smirks at you. “Cat got your tongue?” he asks, removing one of his hands form your shoulder taking a drag of his cigarette making sure to blow the smoke away from you.

You don't answer, it hits you now. My Girl. It runs through your head like a broken record, you can’t believe he said that, how he said it has your heart racing. You frown, you shouldn't get your hopes up, he only said it to get those guys off your back. “I’m okay.” you mutter, “Then why are you crying?”

Surprised, your hands fly to your face feeling the wetness on your cheeks, why were you crying? Now that you're actively aware of it you can stop, sobbing into your hands. You're sure it's a combination of the adrenaline running off, and the feelings you have for Wolfwood. It's all too much right now.

Wolfwood swears dropping his cigarette and stomping it out, he pulls you into a hug letting you cry it out. He runs his hand through your hair, and you really appreciate it, your own arms going around his waist. “Thanks.” You whisper against him, pulling back.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, and you smile as he does. Wolfwood puts an arm around your shoulders, turning you back towards the bar. “I need a drink, let me buy you a drink.” He says, you laugh. You think your next words over carefully, but decide to just go for it.

“Sure, besides I think you owe me one, with me your girl and all.” You take pleasure in watching his face become flushed, nearly tripping over his feet at your words. You laugh, you don't give him a chance to reply, maybe you're a little scared at the thought of a serious answer. So, you just drag him into the bar by the arm and join the others.

Maybe when you're a little braver, you’ll tell him how you feel.

#wolfwood x you #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #wolfwood imagine #nicholas d. wolfwood x reader #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun stampede imagine #trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #trigun

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rip-quizilla · 11 months

Text

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: An enemies to friends to enemies to lovers story. Slow-burn love story based on the film "When Harry Met Sally"

Word Count: 5.7k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by When Harry Met Sally (1989), Slow Burn, Romantic Fluff, eventual smut, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Eddie Munson Lives, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no one dies, Reader-Insert

“The first time we met, we hated each other.”

“No, you didn’t hate me, I hated you.”

“The second time we met, you didn’t remember me-”

“I did too, I remembered you!”

“The third time we met, we became friends.”

“We were friends for a long time.”

“And then we weren’t.”

“And then we fell in love.”

Part 1

The first time you met Eddie Munson, he was dressed as Jason Voorhees.

It was Halloween, so the mask wasn’t completely out of the blue. He was 13, his hair was buzzed, and you had never (to your knowledge) spoken a single word to the boy.

The year was 1979. You and your best friend, Robin, had made the executive decision that you were too old for trick-or-treating, opting to stay home and watch scary movies in your bedroom instead. Deaf to the rest of the world, the two of you had holed yourselves up in the darkness of your room, huddled together in front of your TV set under a patchwork quilt your grandmother had made as you watched Carrie go on a blood-soaked killing spree.

Both of you swore up and down that you weren’t scared, but that didn’t stop either of you from screaming like banshees when a tap at your window revealed Jason’s hockey mask and a plastic knife.

Though you were only 13 yourself, you’d furiously thrown open your window, jammed your bare feet into a pair of sneakers and launched yourself into a high-speed chase after the stupid, stupid soul who had tried to make a fool out of the wrong girl.

It hadn’t taken you long to catch up to him; the masked menace had slowed down once he’d thought he was far enough from your house. You could see him up ahead, laughing with his friends and reenacting your terrified screams as he waved the prop knife in the air.

You never stopped running, waiting until you were just about thirty feet from pint-sized Jason before yelling, “You’re dead, dipshit!”

Even though he was wearing a mask, your adversary’s body language spoke for itself- from the way he froze, then turned in the direction of your voice, then took off running- you could tell that he hadn’t expected you to race after him. His friends watched, dazed as you shoved them aside in pursuit of the punk in a mask that you were gaining on with every stride. When you finally caught up to him in the grassy field beside the neighborhood playground, you grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked as hard as you could.

The kid hit the ground with a loud “Oof”, throwing up his hands in surrender as you stood over him and took the lapels of his denim jacket in your two clenched fists. You could see his big brown eyes behind the mask, wide with terror that matched the shrillness in his voice.

“Whoa whoa whoa, hey hold- HOLD ON!” He raised his hands out defensively in front of his face. “I’m sorry, okay? Jeez, you caught me, I’m caught, I surrender!”

You paused, glaring at the little heathen for a second before shoving him back on the ground. As soon as you let go, you heard a muffled sigh of release behind the mask as the terror before you unmasked himself. You recognized the kid’s face, but couldn’t quite place where you knew him from.

“Do I know you?” you asked, hands placed on your hips. You took a couple of steps back, allowing him room to push himself off the ground.

The kid looked at his feet, avoiding your eye contact as he huffed out a humorless laugh. “Of course.” he muttered to himself before answering your question at normal volume. “Yeah, uh, Eddie Munson. We have history together.”

You watched him, unmoving, raising an eyebrow. When he looked up and saw your skeptical expression, his eyes widened and he practically hopped up off the ground. “Class! History class!” He brushed his hands on his jeans before shoving them in his pockets and looking back down at the grass between his sneakers. “We’re in the same history class.”

You nodded slowly, still struggling to place him in your memory. “Cool.” you replied, face expressionless. “So you snuck over to my window in a Jason mask… why? Exactly?” Your tone was sharp and accusing.

The kid- Eddie- looked at you confused, as if he hadn’t heard you right. He looked around, gesturing vaguely to the various trick-or-treaters, plastic pumpkin heads and candy-filled pillow cases held in each sticky little fist.

“It’s Halloween,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m going to everyone’s windows.”

“Just to scare people?” You asked, the accusatory tone of your voice impossible to miss. “You have nothing better to do?”

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest as he defensively avoided your eyes. You waited a moment in silence before huffing out a breath and stomping past him. Robin was still sitting in your bedroom, undoubtedly on the verge of a nervous breakdown after being scared half to death and abandoned soon thereafter.

“Whatever. Stay away from me.” you left him with those parting words and marched back to your house, Ready to go back to school on Monday and thoroughly ignore him in history class.

***

The second time you met Eddie Munson, you were at the Hawkins High Winter Formal, circa 1982.

You were clip-clopping angrily in your satin heels and ignoring the obnoxious way they echoed in the eerily empty tiled hallway. “Tyler, hold on.” you bit out, struggling to keep the desperation in your chest from seeping into your tone. “Tyler, wait!” You reached out and managed to grab your date by the crook of his elbow, but he shrugged you off.

“Forget it, I’m going.” he grunted, not even bothering to face you. “I never wanted to go to this dumb dance anyway.”

The cool chill of December night air hit you hard as he launched the exit doors open. Your arms flew up to shield your bare shoulders from the icy breeze, heels crunching against the uneven concrete as you stepped through the open doorway.

“Tyler, this is so stupid! Just come back inside, it’s freezing!”

He just shook his head, making a beeline for his beat-up baby blue pickup. You’d matched your dress to that pickup. You had searched every boutique in Hawkins to find the perfect shade of baby blue… and now he was leaving you to drive away in it.

Tyler continued to ignore you as he opened the driver-side door, hopped in, stuck his key in the ignition, and pulled out of the parking lot. That left you standing in the cold, shivering in silence- completely alone.

Or so you’d thought.

“Trouble in paradise?”

The taunting question came from behind you, some twenty feet or so down the wall. You turned to see who had witnessed your embarrassingly loud spat with your date, and immediately gave a sigh and an eye roll when you saw who it was.

Eddie’s hair had grown long over the years, dark curls now coiled past his earlobes, just shy of brushing the shoulders of his black leather jacket. The way it framed his face in the warm lamplight- it struck you that Eddie Munson was actually kind of pretty. Certainly easier on the eyes than he had been with that ridiculous buzzcut. You were surprised to see him here- dances didn’t seem like his thing. Obviously, he didn’t know the meaning of the word formal, judging by the absence of any clothing items that might deserve the word. He leaned casually against the dimly-lit brick wall, hands in his pockets and eyeing you curiously.

“Mind your business, Munson.” You scowled, turning to grasp the handle of the door- and felt your heart plummet when you realized the door was locked.

“All the doors but the ones by the front office are set to lock from the outside.” Eddie supplied you with an answer to a question you hadn’t needed to ask. “You’ll have to go all the way around.”

You huffed out a frustrated, humorless chuckle. “I wouldn’t say I’m all too eager to go back in there in the first place.”

Silence hung in the air between the two of you. Weighing your options for a moment, you settled on postponing your inevitable embarrassment by joining Eddie Munson in leaning against the painted brick wall. You knew the way your friends talked about Tyler; how they’d tell you he was always an asshole and they’d told you such since the beginning of your relationship.

You’d rather deal with the school outcast right now.

Eddie’s eyebrows stayed raised on his forehead for nearly a full minute once you took up your spot next to him on the wall. You didn’t say anything, not for a while. Finally, the silence was broken when you let out a loud, involuntary shiver, hands clutching your shoulders and rubbing up and down your upper arms in a desperate attempt to warm up.

Eddie glanced over at you, rolling his eyes at how pointedly you were avoiding his eye contact. Letting out a heavy sigh, he asked with the least amount of enthusiasm possible-

“Do you want my jacket?”

You looked up at him, a look that mixed incredulity and disgust painted across your expression. “Well not when you ask like that.”

Eddie scrunched up his nose, dropping one eyebrow while the other stood its ground. “Like what?”

“Like it’s an obligation.”

“Like what’s an obligation?”

You huffed, “Offering me your jacket!”

Eddie chuckled humorlessly, “Now why,” he spoke your first and last name as if it were a pompous title like ‘Grand Duchess’ or ‘Queen of Sheba’, “-would I feel obligated to offer you my jacket?”

You huffed. Again. The sound of your heels crunching once more over the pavement as you turned to face him tore through the silent winter air. You couldn’t believe you were explaining this to him, as if he didn’t already know.

“When a girl is cold, and she doesn't have a jacket, boys are taught that they’re supposed to offer that girl their jacket.”

Eddie nodded as you spoke, as if he were an eager student learning something life-changing from his favorite professor. “Fascinating, fascinating… and who teaches this to boys?”

You crossed your arms over your chest defensively, wishing he would just give up the bit and hand over his jacket. “Seriously?”

He waited, smiling eagerly. You couldn’t stand this guy.

“Ugh, I don’t know, fathers, I guess?”

“Ahh, well you see-” Eddie muttered, waving his pointer finger in the air as if he were about to shout ‘eureka’. “-I didn’t grow up with a father, so where did I learn it then?”

You knew he was trying to make you feel bad. Trying to make you uncomfortable so you left him alone. You wouldn’t play his game, though.

Giving him a haughty smile and shaking your head slightly, you replied, “Well maybe your mother knew to teach you anyways and you learned it from her.”

Eddie sucked his teeth, making a sympathetic hiss to accompany the wince on his face. “That’s the thing, my mom’s dead so I don’t have one of those either.”

You came up short after that one. Remorse weighed heavy in your chest, realizing that the game you were playing may not be worth winning.

You were both silent for nearly a minute before you spoke-

“Does the offer to take your jacket still stand?”

“What if it doesn’t?” His retort was bitter and immediate.

You sighed heavily, closing your eyes and hanging your head in defeat. “Then I would understand completely, due to my being a bitch.”

He looked at you, took in your pitiful, shivering form, and rolled his eyes again. “Jesus Christ, here-”

Eddie shrugged off his leather jacket and placed it over your shoulders. You immediately felt yourself relax into it, feeling the warm satiny lining melt like butter onto your gooseflesh skin. You tugged it tight around yourself and slipped your arms into the sleeves.

“Thank you.” you said warmly, giving him a grateful and apologetic smile.

Silence settled over the two of you again, and you were curious if he felt the elephant in the room trumpeting as loudly as you did. You decided to test the waters.

“So… what did you do this Halloween?”

You nearly jumped when Eddie clapped loudly, spinning in a circle and grinning at you like a kid who’d just beat their high score at the arcade.

“You remember!” He laughed, elated and grinning at you so largely that you couldn’t help but grin in return.

“Remember what? The heart attack you almost gave me, or the look on your face when I tackled you to the ground?” You were laughing with him, pride and nostalgia painting your smile with colors that matched the glee in his eyes. He’d remembered that night for years, he couldn’t get it out of his head if he tried.

“How about the way it made you remember my name?” His eyes sparkled, cockiness written on every inch of his face.

You gawked, a little bit impressed by his forwardness. Was Eddie Munson flirting with you? That was the last thing you’d expected out of tonight. You decided to play along.

“Well yeah, how else was I going to report you to the police for public disturbance?”

“You could’ve just given them a physical description and they’d’ve known it was me, disturbing the public is a favorite pastime of mine.”

“It was dark, I couldn’t see you well enough to give a thorough description.”

“You can see me now, what would you tell them?”

Eddie was quiet, patient…waiting for you to take the bait. You were just about to, before you were interrupted by the rev of an engine at the end of the parking lot. It snapped you out of your trance.

Glancing up toward the source of the sound, you felt a wash of relief when you identified it as Tyler’s pickup truck. Quickly, you slipped out of Eddie’s jacket, shoving it into his arms and rushing to meet Tyler at the curb. You stopped after a few steps to look back at Eddie.

“That’s Tyler, I need to go talk to him. Thanks for letting me wear your jacket, and I’m sorry about-”

Eddie hissed out a sharp laugh, digging into his pockets and retrieving a cigarette and lighter. He shook his head ruefully, muttering a “Just go. Have fun at the dance.” and that was that. You were dismissed, conversation over.

Which was a good thing, right? Tyler wouldn’t like you hanging out with “The Freak”… This was better. You took a few more steps forward, stopped, then looked over your shoulder one more time at Eddie.

He was staring straight at you. Your heart rate accelerated exponentially.

BEEP BEEEEEP!

Tyler was parked at the curb.

Plastering a forgiving smile on your face you rushed to the truck. “Coming, I’m coming!”

Eddie watched you climb into the car. He looked away when Tyler the asshat glared daggers at him. He pretended to be more interested in his cigarette than the fact that this guy treated you like garbage, yet you still ran to him like a lost puppy. He ignored the wishful thinking that someone might ever look at him the way you’d just looked when that truck pulled up to the curb.

Your dress matched his car. Had you done that on purpose? If he had asked a girl to the dance, would she have found a dress to match his van? That would be a horrible idea, his van was dingleberry brown and laminate countertop yellow. Eddie was pretty sure those weren’t going to be colors featured in the latest Gunne Sax catalog.

Tyler’s baby blue pickup parked in the back of the lot. Eddie watched the lights shut off. Neither of you got out of the truck.

He took another drag from his cigarette.

***

The third time you met Eddie Munson was in the theater department during your junior year.

You’d joined theater because you needed the fine arts credit. Thus far in your high school career, you hadn’t signed up for choir (your voice sucked), band (you didn’t have time to practice with your part time job at Scoops Ahoy), or drawing & painting (you couldn’t draw for shit). Ergo, theater was your only option. Unfortunately for you- and for the theater director, Mr. Chavez- you soon discovered that you have horrible stage fright.

In lieu of forcing you to play a part onstage, Mr. Chavez said he would award you credit for the class if you agreed to be stage manager for this year’s spring play. That was why you were in the theater department late into the afternoon on a Friday, gluing fake moss to a fake tree.

You’d been warned that the Dungeons &Dragons club had their sessions in the theater on Friday nights, so you weren’t surprised when Eddie Munson and his band of merry nerds waltzed into the auditorium.

Eddie, however, was surprised to see you.

He paused mid-sentence when he was greeted by the sight of you, hot glue gun in hand, bent over a long piece of cardboard cut to resemble a cartoonish-looking tree.

“Uhh,” he started, “Hellfire has the auditorium on Fridays.”

You nodded, glancing up at him as if you’d just noticed his presence. “Yeah, I’ll stay out of your way, just working on set pieces for the play. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you suspiciously. “I doubt that.” he muttered, but it was loud enough for you to hear. You took the high road and chose to ignore it.

You stayed focused on your half-finished cardboard tree while Eddie and his cronies began setting up for whatever Dungeons & Dragons was. You were pretty sure it was a board game or something, you hadn’t heard much about it other than it was another thing that everyone made fun of Eddie for.

Time passed. You held true to your word- as more Hellfire members showed up and sat down to begin their game, you continued to mind your business and silently work on your set pieces. You remained quiet as a mouse, but as time continued to tick on, you couldn’t help but catch bits and pieces of Eddie’s narration as the game progressed. You’d finished your work about forty-five minutes after the game began, but you’d become so engrossed in the story that Eddie was spinning for his friends that you pretended to be busy until their playing drew to a close for the night. You could see why these kids loved the game when they had someone like Eddie leading them through the storyline- he was a very immersive storyteller, unafraid to use a different voice for every character, transforming every aspect of himself to suit the needs of the story.

When they all began to pack up, you did the same and busied yourself with gathering your belongings into your backpack. To your surprise, you noticed a pair of Chuck Taylors out of your peripheral walking toward you.

“You uhh…” Eddie said, bending a knee to help you gather your things. “...you get all of your work done?”

You gratefully accepted your composition notebook from him. “Um, everything I needed to finish tonight, yeah.” You replied, offering him a smile. “That game actually seems cool, you’re a good storyteller.”

That seemed to flatter him enough to elicit a genuine smile. “Yeah? You liked it?” you nodded, grin slipping further until it showed your teeth. Eddie tucked his head down shyly, but still unable to hide the obvious satisfaction on his face. “So when’s the play?”

You sighed. “Not for about three weeks. I’m the stage manager, so I’ve got my work cut out for me… pretty sure I’ll need to keep staying late on Fridays until then if I’m going to be ready in time-”

“You can’t work on it any other day of the week?” He interrupted.

You balked. Well, at least he isn’t beating around the bush… but still, rude.

Eddie, who winced the moment he’d spoken, seemed to read your mind. “Shit, that came across ruder than I’d meant- I just meant that I didn’t realize you were so busy every other day.”

You eyed him suspiciously. Yeah, sure. Nice save.

“Well,” you sigh, “I tutor on Mondays and Tuesdays, work on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, and-”

“Where do you work?” Eddie interrupted… again.

You tried not to let your frustration seep into your tone. “I, uhh, I work at that ice cream shop at the mall, Scoops Ahoy.”

Eddie’s smug smile was slow as it crept across his face. “Wait… is that the place with the little sailor outfits?”

You rolled your eyes; you’d walked right into this one. “Yes, it is.”

He bit his lip, like he wanted to say something but was holding it back. “Geez, they better pay you well if you have to wear that monstrosity.”

You chuckled, zipping up your backpack and pulling it over your shoulder as you stood up. “Yeah, pay’s not too bad. It’s enough that I should be able to pay to get my car fixed by the end of the school year, so that-”

“What happened to your car?”

You huffed, annoyed. “God, Munson, you ever heard someone finish a sentence before?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, his open mouth clamping shut. Your angry eyes softened- your tone had been a bit harsh.

“Sorry-”

You both apologized simultaneously, followed by a chuckle from the both of you. After a beat of silence, Eddie smiled tightly and gestured for you to go first.

“I drive an old car, and it needs a few parts replaced before I can take it back out on the road safely… so until then, I’m a perpetual pedestrian.”

Eddie frowned, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re walking home?”

You nodded, not seeing the problem. “I don’t live far, it’s only a ten minute walk.”

He didn’t seem satisfied by that reply. “It’s pretty dark out, you want me to just drive you home?”

You opened your mouth to decline his offer, but no sound came out. He had a point- the path home wasn’t very well-lit; some might even consider it dangerous, since there wasn’t a sidewalk for most of your route. You gave him a slightly apologetic smile.

“You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”

He shook his head, eyebrows scrunching as if it were ludicrous for you to even ask the question. “Nah, don’t worry about it.” Gesturing to the table- which was now deserted by the other members (when had they all left?)- Eddie said, “Just let me get all my stuff together and we’ll head out, cool?”

You nodded, smiling gratefully. “Yeah, cool. Thanks, Eddie.”

He waved you off, busying himself with the multitudes of papers and little plastic figures strewn across the table.

Once you were both ready to leave, you followed Eddie out to his car- er, van. It was a very large van. Once inside, the smell of weed was unmistakable. Eddie realized this the moment you sat down.

“Sorry about the, uh…” he began, wincing and gesturing to the air around him.

“...weed smell?” you supplied, smirking.

He barked out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. Didn’t know if you’d recognize it.”

You feigned offense, placing a dramatic hand over your heart as he turned the key in the ignition. “Edward Munson, are you drawing the conclusion that I’m a prude who can’t place the smell of marijuana?”

He laughed- a real laugh, haughty and unbridled. “Well for starters, people who smoke marijuana don’t call it marijuana.” You felt the shocks working beneath your seat as he shifted the car from park to drive, pulling out of his parking space and exiting the lot.

“Okay, you blew my cover.” You giggled. “What do you call it, then?”

Eddie made a show of thinking it over. “Oh, lots of things- weed, mary jane, grass- the devil’s lettuce is my personal favorite.”

You snorted. “That’s one I haven’t heard before.”

“I love teaching people new things.” Eddie smiled, taking his eyes off the road a moment to flash another smile in your direction.

A comfortable quiet settled over the van, breaking only for you to advise Eddie on which turns to take on the way to your house.

After a few moments of silence, Eddie spoke up.

“So are you still dating that guy… Timmy, Tucker…?”

“You mean Tyler?” you supplied.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “God, don’t remind me I ever dated that asshole.” smiling ruefully, you shook your head. “No, he was bad news. A whole three months of my life wasted that I’ll never get back.”

Eddie whistled. “Damn, guy really did a number on you, huh?”

You shrugged. “I think I was so obsessed with the idea of being with someone like him that I missed all the red flags that were so obvious to everyone else. It hurt for a while after I finally broke up with him, but I got over it.”

He was quiet, contemplative as he nodded to your words. You turned to face Eddie completely. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I’ve never heard about you going with anyone.”

Eddie snorted. “Even if I was going with someone, I doubt you’d hear about it.”

Your brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean my love life- nonexistent as it is- isn’t exactly the hot gossip of Hawkins High.” Eddie’s eyes never wavered from the road ahead as he turned into your neighborhood.

You raised your eyebrows at that. “Actually, if you dated someone I think a lot of people would talk about it.”

Eddie looked at you, confused, almost like he didn’t believe you.

“Seriously,” you confirmed, “When somebody dates all the time, no one really cares who the next person they date is. But when somebody who never dates starts dating somebody, everybody talks about it.”

His expression remained unchanged as he digested that information. After a moment, he sighed, replying, “In that case, I’m never dating anyone until I’m out of Hawkins.”

“What? Why?” you pointed out your house at the end of the street.

“Because I wouldn’t wish school-wide gossip on anyone, it’s taken me a lifetime to get used to it.” He gave you a snarky smile and shook his head. “Most people aren’t as strong as I am, they’d crack under the weight of infamy.”

You countered his snark with disbelief, but couldn’t hide a smile at his reply. “Well I’m glad you have such a high opinion of yourself, Eddie, but I think you need to give people more credit. The right person wouldn’t care about the gossip, they’d care about you more.”

The van jolted as it came to a stop in front of your house. “Well if I ever find someone who fits that description, I’ll let you know,” Eddie replied, “but until then, I think I’ll let people keep gossiping about me for the normal reasons.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt, hauling your heavy backpack onto your lap. “Such as…?”

“Devil worshiper, white trash, spawn of satan…” Eddie made a show of counting them out on his fingers. You giggled. He grinned.

“Well, in all seriousness-” you said softly, “I think you’re selling yourself short. I mean don’t get me wrong, you can be annoying as all hell,” You gave him a pointed glance, silently laughing a bit at his wry side-eye, “but from what I can tell, there’s a nice guy hiding underneath all that rockstar hair.”

“Rockstar hair, huh?” You nodded and his grin grew wider, now accompanied by a blush that Eddie hoped you wouldn't see if he looked down at his lap and let his ‘rockstar hair’ form a curtain around his face. You caught it anyway. “While calling me ‘nice’ is very… generous of you, you don’t really know shit about me so I’m not sure that you’re a qualified source-”

“I know you’re the kind of guy who gives his jacket to girls whose dates leave them at dances, and doesn’t embarrass them with questions about why the date is leaving.” It was your turn to interrupt him now. “And now I know you’re also the kind of guy who cares enough to give someone a ride home because it’s dark enough outside for him to fear for their safety.”

Eddie was quiet, smiling tightly but refusing to meet your eyes. “Well…” he drew the word out until it was three-syllables long. Shyly, he looked up at you through his dark brown curls. “...that’s what friends do, right?”

The smile that bloomed across your face was so sudden, it surprised even you. “We’re friends now, huh?”

He mirrored your smile, back to his devil-may-care brashness that you’d come to expect from him. “I said no such thing, now get out of my van.” His words did nothing to dampen the joy evident on his face.

You laughed in response, pulling the handle of your door to do just that. “Don’t lie to yourself, Munson, I know what I heard!” Your smile was kind, but your eyes said something along the lines of na-na na-na na na.

He said nothing for a moment, just smiled back at you before shaking his head.

“Bye, friend.”

Your shoulders shook in a gentle laugh, and you replied, “Bye, friend.” before closing the car door and walking up the concrete walkway to your front porch. Eddie waited until you were inside before driving away.

*That day, four years and five months after you’d initially met Eddie Munson, was the first day of one of the strongest friendships of your life.*

*That friendship would last for about one year.*

Part 2

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers #I get that these tags are all over the place but I promise I have a plan

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outtherecreations · 2 years

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Out of Sync [REWRITE]| Rick Sanchez x Reader | Part 4:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A/N: This is gonna have a time skip. It’s been like 2 months since Rick moved in.

A/N: This was 100% rewritten after the season 6 premiere

My eyes slowly open, I gasp weakly, looking around the garage in confusion as my heart beats harshly in my chest. “R-Rick?” I mumble, frowning a bit, Rick stands over me and starts to gently stroke my arm “Shhh, Baby. Go back to sleep, ok? Everything’s gonna b-be better when you wake up. I’m not gonna-gonna fail you again.” He tells me softly “What the h*ll are you…-” I wince, feeling a sharp pain in my neck. I slowly start to slip back into unconsciousness…

“R-Rick’s gonna make you feel all better…he won’t stand there and watch you d-die again…just relax. I’m-I’m gonna make it all better…”

“Haha! I mother f*cking did it!”

I groan tiredly when Rick violently shakes me awake. I glance at him, he grins widely “Check it out, baby! You’re looking at the guy that just created this!” He says proudly. I look at the oddly shaped gun in confusion, “Is that what you’ve been working on this whole time? What is it?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.

“It’s a portal gun,” Rick explains “With this I can travel across dimensions. I can go anywhere I want.” “Did you make sure it works?” I ask, yawning. Rick rolls his eyes “Of course I made sure it worked. Watch.” He says before shooting the portal gun beside the bed. I shield my eyes from the bright green glow the portal produces. I look at the portal in awe, “See it works.” Rick says proudly, placing a hand on my back

“Wow, Rick, this is-”

“Now let’s see if it’s safe.”

Rick shoves me into the portal, I let out a scream. I hit a hard tile floor, I sit up and look around. I was in the kitchen…

“Did it work? Are you alive?” Rick asks, walking out of our bedroom. I turn to him angrily “Rick, what the h*ll?! What if that killed me?!” I shout, I shove him. Rick scoffs, “Come on, N/N. You didn’t die. I knew the portal was safe.” He says. “Then, why didn’t you go through it too?” I ask, I lower my voice, Beth doesn’t need to hear this sh*t. Rick huffs and crosses his arms at me, “Well, I thought you would’ve wanted to be the first one to experience portal travel.” He states bitterly “Yeah, you’re were wrong.” I sigh angrily, I turn on my heels and storm towards our bedroom. “Stop being dramatic!” Rick calls, I ignore him and shut the door. I flop onto the bed tiredly

There was a green flash outside the door. I hug my knees tightly, he’s gonna come in here…I know it…he’s gonna come in here and apologize like he always does. We’re gonna work through this…this isn’t the end of us…

Beep…beep…beep…beep

Rick stands over me as I start to open my eyes, “There she is.” Rick says with a drunken smile. I try to sit up up, but Rick stops me “Whoa, hang on. I wouldn’t do that if I were you, you just went through major surgery.” Rick warns “Major…what?” I ask. “Congrats, I fixed your heart. Now you won’t have random heart attacks anymore. You’re welcome-no need to thank me…unless, you really want to~”

“Rick, what did you do?” I ask, looking at the large scar on my chest. Rick smiles drunkenly, “I-I-I saved you, Baby. I saved you like any good husband would…” He tells me. I stare at the scar with wide eyes, I frown sadly, “What’s-URP-wrong? This is the part where you’re happy.” Rick states. “Why would I be happy? I didn’t want this!” I snap angrily “Didn’t want-you didn’t want to be helped? To finally stop taking those big *ss pills? To live your life, knowing you can actually live it?” Rick asks, glaring at me.

I fight back the sadness I was feeling, “How…how do I know you didn’t put some…experimental heart that could end up killing me?! So you wouldn’t have to put in yourself, you made me your test monkey!” I ask, trying to keep up my anger.

I know this isn’t the Rick I had Beth with…I know he isn’t the Rick I got into so many fights with-Rick explained it to me so many times when he wasn’t drunk…well, he was less drunk than normal, but I still find it hard to separate the Rick that’s been purposely losing his blankets to sleep in my bed and the Rick that would purposely sleep in the garage to make sure he didn’t have to see me at night…

Some things about how we met are the same…other things are different. How do I know this isn’t one of those times where this Rick and the ‘first’ Rick are the same.

Rick stares at me for a second, he blinks slowly before speaking with anger “W-who-why-did that other Rick f*cking do that to you?!” He asks angrily. I didn’t respond, “WHAT THE F*CK?! THAT GUY’S WORSE THAN I THOUGHT! Not o-o-only did he take away the few things I actually cared about in life, but he-he didn’t appreciate what he had! SON OF A B*TCH!” Rick screams, gripping his hair angrily. He turns to me quicker than I was expecting, my eyes widen at him. There’s no telling what he’d do when he’s in this state..

BeepBeep…BeepBeep…BeepBeepBeep.

“I want you to u-understand something, Y/N,” Rick says, holding my hands firmly “I f*cking love you, ok?! I wanted to spend the rest of m-my sh*tty life with you! You made my life less sh*tty! Y-y-you wanna know why I took time to build you a heart? Because-if you die! I’ll die! Then B-Beth will have no parents and be so depressed that she gives Jerry another kid! Is that what you want Y/N? Another Jerry running around?! At least we could save Summer and M-Morty from ending up like him, b-but this one will be all alone!”

Ok, he’s ranting, he doesn’t mean anything he just said. Good.

I sigh, I try to pull my hands away from his, but Rick doesn’t let go. He stopped ranting, looking down with a defeated frown. I sigh silently, I squeeze Rick’s hands softly…he glances at me, I look down “Thank you-” Rick engulfs me into a hug “I knew you’d l-l-like it! Hang on,” Rick pulls out of the hug “I’m gonna go get the-the…stuff to show you how it works! Wubba lubba dub dub!” He runs out of the garage, leaving me to listen the the sounds of the heart monitor…I frown at the floating feeling in my chest.

My dimension or not, I refuse to fall in love with him again.

~4 Days Later~

“Hey, Grandma, what do you think of this?” Summer asks, walking out of the dressing room. She was wearing a black dress, fishnet stockings, and some high heels. I sniffle a little, “I would be so jealous of you if we went to high school together.” I say proudly.

Summer lights up, “Really? You think I should get it?” She asks excitedly “The mom in me says no, buuuut, I’ve raised my kid-so I say you should definitely get it.” I tell her, Summer squeals “Thanks, Grandma!” She says before going back into the dressing room. I smile at her softly.

“Wow, I’m shocked you approved of that outfit…”

A guy around my age smile at me softly, “Well, I believe in letting kids wear what they want. As long as they’re not naked.” I state with a shrug. “That’s good…not a lot of open minded people in our generation. I hope you’re open minded with other things too.” The man chuckles softly, I cringe a little, but it didn’t last long so the guy didn’t notice. Summer walks out of the dressing room, holding the dress she was going to buy for her school dance thing.

“I can’t wait for the other girls to see me in this and sh*t their panties in jealousy-um, who’s this?” Summer asks, eyeing the dude…it’s ironic how she looks like Jerry, but makes expressions that Rick tends to make. “Oh, I have no idea. We’re just started talking.” I tell her, the man chuckles again. “My name’s Leroy.” He states, Summer and I share an unimpressed look. “Hey, if you’re not too busy, maybe we could have some brunch one day. I know a good place.” Leroy says, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I smile politely, fighting the strong urge to laugh at his offer. “Sorry, but I’m not interested in dating at the moment.” I tell him. Leroy only smirks a little bit, “But at one point, you will be interested in dating again…when the time comes. Give me a call?” He asks, handing me a paper with his number on it. “I-I…will.” I say awkwardly before Summer drags me away.

She buys her clothes and we get into the car. “So…Leroy?” Summer asks, I nod…the two of us break into a laughing fit. “He really thought he had a chance with the name Leroy?!” Summer laughs “That and his stupid sh*tty pick up line!” I snort. “And he already had his number pre-written down?! Who does that?!” Summer asks through her fits of laughter, “Apparently, guys named Leroy do.” I laugh. Summer wheezes.

(A/N: No offense to any Leroys)

Our laughter starts to die down as I start the car. Summer glances at me, “Are you gonna tell Grandpa?” She asks me. “Uh, no. Why would I tell him?” I scoff lightly “Aren’t you two back together?” Summer asks, scrolling through her phone. “No. Why would you even think that?” I ask, eyeing her worriedly. Summer smirks at me.

“You two are sleeping in the same bed.”

“Not by choice. Rick always get in my bed when he’s drunk. And that’s every night.”

“What about when you two flirt?”

“Making fun of his bald spot isn’t flirting.”

“What about when he tells you he’d die without you.”

“That’s because I’m the only one that forces him to drink water and eat an actual meal...”

Summer smirks even more, “Yeah, sure.” She says “I’m serious, we’re not back together. There’s no chance of that happening.” I say seriously, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I frown a little at Summer snickering a little, “Yeah, whatever you say, Gram.” She teases. I roll my eyes a little.

~Next Day~

I stand outside the garage door nervously. Jerry walks in, “Jerry, before I die. Always know, I don’t hate you as a person, I hate you as a son in law…and as a person. But more as a son in law.” I states “Um…ok…” Jerry says. “Also, if I die, leave Beth or I’m haunting your *ss.” I say firmly before I take a deep breath and walk into the garage.

Rick lays across his desk, knocked out as usual. I sigh and slowly approach him, my hand shakes as I reach for his lab coat. I suck in a breath, slowly pulling Rick’s flask out of his pocket. Rick remains unfazed, I quickly run out the garage.

Jerry was still in the kitchen, he watches me with confusion. “Jerry, leave now, I don’t want any witnesses.” I sigh, screwing the cap off the flask. I sniff the bottle-I quickly pull it away from my face. The scent was so strong, I feel drunk off of smelling it. Jerry takes whatever he wanted before quickly leaving.

I pour the orangey liquid down the drain, whatever Rick’s been drinking is super thick…I frown worriedly before sighing “I’m only doing this so he stops being drunk around me…” I mumble. I rinse out the sink, “Ok…time to refill this with something.” I hum. I grab some orange soda out of the fridge, I pour it into the flask.

“Eh. Might as well add Sprite.” I say, pouring in Sprite too. I screw the top back on, I beam proudly as I turn to walk back into the garage. “AAAH!” I scream, Rick stands in front of me “W-what are you doing?” He asks. Rick glares at me suspiciously. “D-drugs?” I wheeze out fearfully, Rick snatches the flask out my hands “I know! Do-do you know what this will do to you if you drink it?!” Rick scolds.

My eyes flash concern for a split second, “I’m guessing the same thing it does to you.” I state, trying to move past Rick. He drops the flask and grabs my shoulders, “Did…did I just hear some concern in your voice?” He asks. I pull out of his hold, “Yeah, you keep sleeping in my d*mn bed, last thing I need is you dying next to me. I got enough trauma cuz of you…” I sigh.

Rick picks up the flask, and takes a sip. He pauses, I tense a little, but relax when Rick continues drinking. He walks away back into the garage I quickly walk into the living room. Morty was sitting on the couch, I frown a little when he starts at the tv emotionlessly…I guess Beth and Jerry’s latest fights have been getting to him… “Hey, Morty…” I greet softly “Hey, did-did you do the thing?” He asks, I shush him. I nod, Morty frowns nervously “Won’t he find out and get mad?” He whispers.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t need to be drinking that stuff anyway.” I hum, turning up the tv. Morty stares at me for a moment before slowly going back to watching tv. Morty taps his fingers nervously, “What do you wanna ask?” I ask him “H-huh?” Morty asks with wide eyes “Morty, I can pick up on your little tells. I know you want to either ask or tell me something.” I state.

Morty’s tapping comes to a stop, “You stopped taking your pills,” He starts nervously “Are you-…trying to do something to yourself?” Morty frowns at me sadly. My eyes widen, “No! Morty! No, no! I have too much confidence to do anything like that. I’m shock with how much he drags you around, Rick never said anything.” I snort lightly, “A-about what?” Morty asks, his sad frown turns into a confused one.

“He gave me a mechanical heart because…I’m not really sure. But I have yet to blow up, so, I think the act was genuine.” I hum “Wow, s-so, Rick helped your heart issues and-and you’re trying to help his drinking problem?” Morty asks, he cracks a smallest of smiles “I…I guess. But I’m not doing that for any romantic reasons. I’m just returning the favor.” I say, crossing my arms and cringing-even I don’t believe the sh*t coming out of my mouth…

“Would you ever want to get back together with Rick?” Morty asks bluntly, I look at him before sighing heavily “I really don’t know…the dumb part of me would love to jump at the chance to rekindle the love that was taken from me just as soon I as I got used to it, but the smart part of me knows that OUR Rick, the one who left me and your mother, was an awful…sometimes even mentally abusive sack of sh*t…” I trail off, Morty tilts his head at me “I know, that Rick and the Rick who’s currently sucking down Sprite and Orange soda are almost two different people, but I guess my brain is struggling to separate the two. Which means, I really don’t see me and any Rick getting back together.” I sigh. Morty hums, staring at the ground.

~Author’s POV~

~(Meanwhile)~

Rick stares at the screen quietly, “I knew I tasted Sprite in this…” He mutters, studying his flask. Rick swiftly types words into the keyboard, allowing the robot to continue speaking…

“It looks like Rick still has f-feelings for you.”

“It feels more love-bombing than anything, Morty.”

Rick frowns and types more, “What if he actually loves you?” ‘Morty’ asks seriously. Rick watches your face twitch a little, showing a little sadness behind your eyes “I don’t think he can anymore, Morty…not without being drunk…” You mumble. Rick hits a button, making ‘Morty’ frown, Rick’s face mirrors the robot’s expression. Rick reaches for the keyboard again- “Know what, Morty…I might just go out on the brunch-date with Leroy.” You admit.

“Who the h*ll’s Leroy?” Rick mumbles “W-who’s that?” The Morty robot asks nervously “Some guy who asked me out when Summer was getting her dress for the dance. He was a little weird, but he seemed sweet enough…I guess.” You say with a very unconvincing tone.

You shrug, taking the remote “Who knows, maybe it’s better for me to date someone that’s dumber than me. I probably just wasn’t good enough for Rick…” You mumble. Rick frowns deeply as you look down sadly. “No wonder Beth ended up with Jerry if that’s the mindset she saw you have.” Rick grumbles disappointedly.

~Next Morning~

~Y/N’s POV~

I yawn tiredly, stretching my arms and legs out. “Huh…” I mumble, I look around to see Rick was gone. Weird, usually I’m normally the first one out of bed. I frown a little.

“D-don’t worry, Baby!”

I scream when Rick rolls from under the bed, “I’m still here, you don’t have-have to be sad.” Rick snorts. “I wasn’t-“ “Save that tsundere-ness for the next chapter.” Rick says, cutting me off “The next chapter? Are you still drunk?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Nope,” Rick hums “I’m not going to be drunk for today.” Rick takes a sit on the bed. “What happens today, Rick?” I ask tiredly, I’m not really in the mood for whatever he has planned. Rick grabs my shoulders and turns me to face him, he grins chaotically.

“You and I are gonna spend the whole day together. Just us~” He coos, wrapping an arm around me. “What?” I ask, letting out a heavy sigh. Rick whips out his portal gun and I flinch with wide eyes “Oh h*ll yeah! Rick and Y/N chapter!” He cheers, opening a portal. I scream when we fall through….

#reader insert #x reader #rick sanchez x reader #rick x reader #out of sync #outtherecreations #outthere #rick and morty x reader #rick and morty #rick and morty season 6 #I made Rick clingy in some bits #clingy Rick Sanchez #morty smith #Rick Sanchez

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cevansbaby-dove · 4 months

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Loves Like the Devil part 5

Warning:Smut (what did you think i would write? lol)

Paring:Chris Evans X Reader.

Huge thank you to @nicoline1998enilocin for the inspo of the smut in this fic i hope you don't mind all of it gurly thanks again!!

The next day I wake up and see chris fast asleep. I smile and grab my robe and put it on, all though i'm wearing nothing under it I am not going to walk around this hotel butt naked yuck!

I walk into the bathroom. "Whoa!" i say as i look around. It's huge and it's my dream bathroom..i shake my head. "Shower y/n dream later" i say as i touch the sink. "Marble?! oh my god" i giggle.

I turn the water on in the shower and slip the robe off. I glance at Chris who is still sleeping. I then touch the water. "perfect" I step in letting the water run down my face and body.

Chris hears the water and my lightly humming. he gets out of bed and walks to the shower i don't know he's there till i turn and almost bump into his chest. "Shit chris-"

Chris says. "ah that's not my name is?" I smile. "No daddy i'm sorry"i look up and down his body. "eyes up here princess" I look at him "sorry your just so sexy" I say biting my lip.

"your one to talk Princess. you don't understand how beautiful you are" he says grabbing a towel from off the rack not breaking eye contact with me.

I am now eyeing chris seductively. I run my hands up and down his chest tracing over his tattoos "you know your hot when your standing there looking at me imaging all the things you want to do to me"

I said looking up to his eyes and back to his lips and repeating. I stand up on my tippy toes and go up to his ear leaving chills down his spine and nibble on his ear "i just want to feel you inside me" I say in his ear.

"your really something princess" he says in my ear.

chris immediately turns me around to where my cheek is now pressed again the cold tiles on the wall making me gasp I love it when he was in control.

He then grabs both my wrist and holds them in one hand behind my back.

He smacks my ass causing me to whine at the burning pleasure "you think you can just tease me like that and not expect to get spanked" he says still shaking my ass in between every word.

"i'm sorry daddy fuck" i say begging for him to do something more. I was a mess begging for him but chris would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy me like this.

"knees now" he said letting go of my hands. I obeyed and went on my knees to see his already hard cock.

It was bright pink and oozing with pre cum. it was a sight to see. I grabbed his cock and slowly began to stroke it looking up at him through my eyelashes.

Chris had his head thrown back and was biting his lip trying to hold back from all his moans and whimpers. I smile as i tease him.

So i began to kitty lick the tip causing him to tense up and grab a pile of your hair and pull your head up to look at him "don't or you'll be sorry"

No matter how much I loved chris punishing me, right now was not the time because all I wanted was him inside me.

I pushed my mouth over his cock and began to bop my head up and down his shaft causing him to throw his head back

"fuck that's it Princess, Just like that" just those words could have made me come undone right there.

I tried to fit as much of him as i can in my mouth and whatever was left i was stroking in a rhythm.

"such a good girl" chris was a moaning mess he loved when i suck his cock because i always have such a good rhythm and he loved the way my lips felt around him.

I moan around his cock which send a vibration down his cock. "shit princess so fucking good..i love that pretty mouth of yours" he said now thrusting hitting the back of My throat causing my eyes to water and choke.

"breathe through your nose princess" He says and i do and i feel better sucking him. I felt him twitch in my mouth signalling he was close he says. "up" i stand up he turns me around to where my back was against his chest.

"going to fuck you so good you won't be able to walk" he said lining himself up with my entrance. I felt his tip lightly brush in between my folds causing me to moan "so needy aren't we" he says pausing right as he was about to push into me.

"yes daddy please i need you, fuck me.. please fuck me" I said in a loud whimper.

chris didn't waste any time as he pushed himself in me causing us both to moan insanely loud. he stopped once he was all the way in allowing me to adjust to his size. "move please fuck"

i said once the pain has turned into pleasure. he pulled himself all the way out to where his tip was barley in and thrusted all the way back inside of me.

"Fuck daddy feels so go...goooodd!!" I let my eyes roll in the back of my skull. "Princess likes it uh?" i nod. "hmm"

"fuck you feel so fucking good princess" he said tightening his grip around my throat. he found the prefect rhythm and began to move faster making my knees weak. i moved both of my hands on the wall for extra support.

"oh shit... fuck that's so good" I said as my face squished against the wall. chris knew exactly how to make me feel not only me but himself good. his cock hitting my g-spot with every thrust I felt a knot form in my stomach. "shit i'm close daddy" I said with my eyes glued shut and mouth dry from having in opened for god knows how long.

"me too princess just hold on a bit longer" he said speeding up his thrust. I was not going to be able to walk later on that's for sure. chris was now pounding into me like there was no tomorrow.

"oh shit..you going to cum? you going to come all over my cock" I could feel him twitch inside of me again which meant he was almost there.

"fuck i'm gonna cum" I said with my hands in a fist still against the wall.

"go ahead cum all over my cock" chris said going violently fast causing me to snap right there.

"daddy oh fucccckk!!" I yell out. Chris covers my mouth as he cums inside. "shh your ok"

I lean my head on the wall and chris kisses my neck making me smile. "Should we wash up now?" Chris smiles "sure" we do each others hair and bodies.

Chris is on the bed when i walk out in this cute outfit.

Chris smiles. "going somewhere princess?" I put on some lipstick and fix my hair a messy bun. "just out to look around LA"

"is that ok?" i ask turn and looking at chris. He nods. "Yea want me to go with?" I smile. "aw but you have to work" I walk over and kiss him then pull away saying. "I'll be back soon"

Chris nods. "Alright have fun if you can walk" I turn and look at him. "uh?" Chris stands up walking to me. "I didn't do a good job if your walking"

I smirk. "I don't want to miss out seeing LA daddy" Chris lets my hair down and says. "round six?" I close my eyes when chris takes my shorts off.

Chris says. "Jump" I drop my purse as i jump on him. "this good?" I ask. Chris turns around sitting on the bed. "shirt off now princess" I take it off and he says as he takes his robe off. "turn around" i turn around on his lap biting my lip.

Chris says. "look at the mirror princess you see how beautiful you look on me hmm?"

I nod. Chris grabs my hips. "use your words princess" I say. "yes daddy"

Chris slaps my ass before he pushes into me making me moan. "hmm fuck" I lean my head fall back on his shoulder.

“Look at us, Princess, can you see how well Daddy fits inside you? We’re made for each other,” I nod. "yes daddy"

I look at him through the mirror.

“Spread those beautiful legs for me and show Daddy how wet you are for him” he says as he hooks My legs over his, spreading them to reveal how wet I am.

"so..cl..close" I say as he thrusts into me at a brutal pace. "Let me hmm fuck..cum daddy please" i beg knowing i won't last longer.

"i know, i can feel you fucking milking my cock princess" He says in my ear.

After our hot sexy time we are in bed curled up in each others arms when i say. ''I can't believe I'm here with you, right now, you know that? But I'm glad you are.'' I turn and look at him with a smile.

Chris places kisses on my shoulder and he says. ''I hope I'm not too forward here, but do you want to be my girlfriend?''

I smile more. "Me as your girl!? Ohh i could get used to that idea" I kiss him and pull away and he says. 'hmm was that a yes princess?" I nod. "Yes daddy i'll be yours"

Chris smiles. "good girl now..how about lunch?"

A/n: 🥵 that was filled with steamy 365 days vibes smut....oh and now your his girlfriend congrats!

Taglist:@cutedisneygrl @patzammit @mrsevans90 @armystay89

#chris evans daddy #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans series #chris evans smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x yn #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #Loves like the devil series

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birinboom · 1 month

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Kirishima Comes Home To Reader Drunk Off His Ass

Kirishima Eijirou x GN Reader

Tags: Established relationships, alcohol consumption, pet names (Reader calls Kiri ‘honey’, Kiri calls Reader ‘babe’), fluff, spice 🌿 832 words

A/N: This drabble actually belongs to a Kiri x OC fic I’m working on. Not sure if I’ll ever manage to finish it enough to even post the first chapter so I rewrote this part to fit a GN Reader. If I left in any fem pronouns please let me know!

You were jerked out of your sleep when the front door slammed, then someone shushed it loudly.

Groaning at the rude awakening, you rolled over to check the time. Eijirou was finally home from his agency’s New Year’s celebration, and it sounded like he was drunk off his ass. Turning on the bedside lamp, you got up with a heavy sigh; when he got this drunk he usually needed help getting into bed. Thankfully you only had to deal with his drunk, stubborn ass once or twice a year.

You found him sitting on the floor by the entryway, trying - and failing - at pulling his shoes off.

“Hey,” you mumbled, rubbing your face.

Eijirou looked up at you with a bright, toothy smile. “Hiya!”

Crouching next to him, you pointed at his shoes. “Y’know it might work better if you untied them first.”

“Oh.”

“Do you need help?”

“Naw, I got this!”

He finally managed to get his shoes off and got to his feet, swaying. You eyed him suspiciously. “How much did you drink?”

“Jus’ a lil’ bit. About… thiiiis much!” he giggled, holding his thumb and index finger up about two millimeters apart.

You sighed again, looping an arm around his back. “You’re such a pain when you’re drunk.”

“Am not! At least I don’t get angerey, like Ba-*hic*-hakugou.”

“Mhm. Let’s get you to bed, honey.”

He shushed you. “We gotta be quiet, my partner’s prob’ly asleep.”

You couldn’t help but smile. This was the first time he had been drunk enough to not recognize you. “Is that so?”

“Yeah! They need their sleep, they work wa-hay too hard.” He let out another giggle. “They’re super-super-duper cute when they sleep. Have you ever met them?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, you should!”

When the two of you made it to the bedroom, Eijirou flopped down on the bed, then pointed at the oversized Red Riot shirt you were wearing. “Hey, that’s me!! I didn’t realize you were a fan!”

You had trouble hiding your smirk. “One might even say I’m your biggest fan.”

“Oh, cool! It’s nice to meet ya.”

“Yeah, likewise.” You reached for his belt buckle but he pushed your hands away.

“Whoa, what are you doing?!”

“C’mon, Ei, I wanna go back to sleep. You’re gonna get too warm if you keep your jeans on.”

You reached out again, but this time he grabbed onto your wrists, keeping them away from him. “I don’t want--”

“Ei, stop. That’s not what I’m trying to--”

“No! I’m sure you’re a very, v-very nice person, but I really love my partner!”

“Ei, I AM your partner.”

He blinked up at you for a moment, then his face split into a brilliant grin. “Oh hey, babe! When did you get here?”

You had to fight not to laugh at his change of mood. If you did, he’d never agree to go to sleep.

“I’ve been here all night,” you said.

“Really? D’you know who runs this place? ‘Cos the service here is terrible. One of the staaffff won’t stop hitting on me even though I keep saying no.”

You pulled your hands out of his grip and reached for his belt again. “How awful. Let’s get you to bed.”

“I’d love to, babe, but I think I’m a teensy bit too drunk for that.”

You finally managed to pull his pants off. Straddling him, you set to work on the buttons of his dress shirt. He sat up and kissed you sloppily, one hand at the back of your head, the other kneading your behind. The rank taste of old alcohol filled your mouth.

“I thought you were too drunk for that,” you coughed when he finally let you breathe.

“Well… I can give it a try since you keep in-- insssh-- inshisishting.”

You pushed the dress shirt over his shoulders, leaving him in a white t-shirt. “I’d rather not. Just go to sleep already.”

“Only if you join me!” Wrapping strong arms around you, he let himself fall backwards with yet another giggle. He started pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses against your neck then abruptly stopped.

“Ei?”

You were met with a soft snore. Sighing once more, you shuffled around in his tight grip to turn off the lights and pull the covers over the two of you. He really was the worst, most endearing drunk.

When you got up the next morning, Eijirou was still fast asleep. As soon as you left the bed, he reached out for you. When he couldn’t find you, he instead grabbed your pillow, burrowing his face into it. You heard him mumbling something about a teapot battle.

Checking up on him an hour later, a bottle of water and painkillers in hand, you found him with your pillow thrown over his face. He shifted the pillow a smidge, glancing up at you with blurry, red-rimmed eyes.

“Could you tell the sun to shut up?” he wheezed, voice gravelly. “‘S too loud for me.”

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Birin 💖

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kirishima #eijirou #eijiro #x reader #x you #gn reader #established relationships #tw: alcohol #fluff #spice #drabble #drabbles

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jahayla-parker · 10 months

Text

Bewitched Love : Peter Parker x Reader

Part 1

Bewitched Love Series Navigation

Desc. & Warnings: 3.5k wc, see navigation for description and warnings

“Is… is that Mysterio?” Y/n questioned, her eyes wide as she stared at the jumbo-screen. J. Jonah Jameson from the Daily Bugle was holding a televised broadcasting of Mysterio. It seemed to be his last words, but it was hard to make out over the loudness of Madison Square Garden.

Peter was in his Spider-Man suit, his suit’s eyes equally as wide as y/n’s. He snapped his head towards y/n as he lifted his right hand out to the side in question. Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing, Mysterio was trying to claim that Peter Spider-Man was behind the loss of life in London. He quickly squeezed y/n’s hand before leaping onto the nearest lamppost to get a better view.

Y/n watched from the street as the video recording of Mysterio returned after J. Jonah Jameson’s ignorant remarks. She felt her stomach drop when Mysterio mumbled “Spider-Man's real... Spider-Man's real name is.…”. Y/n was granted a very brief moment of relief when the video glitched and cut out. However, before she could even let out a sigh, Mysterio’s picture returned as he shouted “Spider-Man's name is Peter Parker!”. Y/n froze after she snapped her attention towards Peter.

Peter was still perched on the lamppost next to the road. He clutched his head in panic, “what the fuck?!”. Peter glanced down at y/n only to see her staring back at him in just as much shock and confusion. He swallowed thickly as he heard J. Jonah Jameson summarize what Quentin Beck proclaimed.

Peter snapped his head and when he heard y/n’s faint gasp. Looking down he saw the crowd had begun to point at her. Peter jumped down as soon as he heard someone repeatedly ask if she was Spider-Man's girlfriend.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Please don't touch her” Peter begged, holding his hands up as he stood between the angry citizens and y/n. Peter slowly spun in his defensive position as a citizen neared them asking, “you’re just a kid?”. Peter heard y/n groan in annoyance behind him as more people stepped closer.

Y/n glared at the stranger who came up to Peter and asked “you murdered Mysterio?”. She shook her head and began to defend her boyfriend, “he didn’t-“.

But then the stranger turned to her and gasped, “you helped him murder Mysterio?”.

Y/n’s jaw dropped slightly, her eyes wide, as she shook her head adamantly. She and Peter both tried to assure the surging crowd that neither of them did what the video of Mysterio was proclaiming. Y/n had moved to stand beside Peter, rather than behind; much to his frustration.

Peter tensed as yet another person approached them, this time reaching their hand out to try and touch them. He reflectively swatted the woman’s hand away before she could touch either of them. Peter’s actions resulted in the woman screaming, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! He hit me! Spider-Man hit me!”

Peter glanced over at y/n as she argued, “That’s not what happened! You tried to-“. Normally he’d make sure whoever they were talking to let her finish her sentence, but Peter noticed everyone had started pulling out their phones and recording. As much as he wanted to not step on y/n’s toes as she tried to defend him, he couldn’t risk more bad publicity. Peter tried to calm the crowd, but failed once again.

As the angry citizens moved closer, Peter brought y/n to his side. He hooked his arm around her waist, holding her tightly against him. Peter nodded once at y/n to warn her of his next actions before he shot a web and lifted them from the surging crowd. He apologized as he felt y/n hold on tight. Peter knew she preferred to use her own abilities to fly rather than him pulling her around. But, he didn’t feel he was left with much choice. Especially because Peter didn’t want her to have to risk getting her identity disclosed to the world too.

Like Peter -before this broadcast that is-, only a handful of people knew of Y/n‘s secret identity. May, Happy, Ned, and MJ were the only ones outside of her family and Peter that knew what y/n could do/what she was. May was inevitable given her relationship with Peter and Happy’s situationship with May. Plus, May was great at patching up any scrapes or cuts after a night on patrol with Peter. Happy and Ned had been made aware during the events in London; with Ned’s questions answered upon their return to New York. MJ was looped in when she and y/n worked on eliminating the tension between them.

Y/n and MJ both had a crush on Peter going into their London trip, and for a short time Peter had a crush on both of the girls. In the end, Peter knew he only truly held romantic feelings for y/n and not MJ. MJ sensed this and was supportive. But there had still been some understandable tension between y/n and MJ. It wasn’t much, but it made them both uncomfortable so it had to be addressed.

Y/n assured MJ that she didn’t do anything to try and ‘win’ Peter over in London. MJ assured y/n that her crush on Peter had been minimal. In fact, once Brad showed interest in MJ, her crush on Peter dissolved. Both girls were pleased with the outcomes of the whole affair and ready to move on as if nothing happened.

But y/n felt awkward keeping a secret from MJ. She always had. But now that y/n had told others, including their mutual friend Ned, she felt she owed MJ the truth. She was nervous as to how MJ would react, but Peter assured her it would be fine. It turns out, Peter was correct, y/n had nothing to worry about; MJ was actually thrilled and very intrigued by y/n’s abilities.

That being said, Peter knew that didn’t mean y/n wanted everyone to know. Heck, Peter didn’t want everyone to know about his secret life either. But, he wasn’t given any say in this public disclosure. Peter was going to be sure that y/n wasn’t placed in the same position as him; even if it meant causing a brief surge of panic when he suddenly pulled them through the air to escape the crowds.

Peter’s guilt soaked eyes scanned y/n’s body to see if she was still nervous. He’d made it back to his bedroom, sneaking them in through the window. Peter could tell y/n was very relieved to have been standing on her own two feet again, but otherwise she seemed fine. He let out a short sigh, pressing the center button on his suit.

Y/n placed her hands on the upper part of Peter’s exposed chest, staring deeply into his eyes. “It’s okay, Peter, breathe” she whispered soothingly as she pleaded with her eyes. When Peter continued to mumble that he didn’t know what to do now, y/n stepped closer and lifted one hand to his cheek.

Y/n stood extremely close to Peter, enough to feel his breath ticking the tiny hairs on her face. She closed her eyes, one hand resting on his chest, the other cupping his cheek. Y/n took a deep breath and whispered “stabilis corde; stabilis mentis”; steady in heart, steady in mind.

Just as Peter felt his out of control pulse calming and his racing thoughts coming to a halt, the door burst open. Y/n and Peter both startled as Happy hid his eyes and May apologizes. Peter quickly shot a web over to y/n’s waist to keep her upright when she stumbled backwards, tripping over his suit in her attempt to distance from Peter. “This isn't what it looks like, Happy!” He groaned, his face flushed.

“It’s not -“ y/n mumbled quietly. She glanced at the door as Peter’s aunt, May apologized again and went to close it. “I’m sorry” y/n sighed, her gaze shifting nervously around the room.

Peter swore he was going to spray May with the kitchen faucet hose when she advised, “just practice safe...”. “It's not what it looks like” Peter shouted, unable to look at y/n out of the embarrassment his aunt’s response caused him. He let out a sigh of relief when May cut herself off as she opened the door again and noticed y/n.

“Oh! It’s y/n” May grinned, walking over to hug the girl.

“Who else would it be?” Peter questioned as he watched y/n giggle shyly as she returned May’s hug.

“I hadn’t even considered that, I was more focused on trying not to see anything!” May explained, laughing at Peter’s deepening blush.

“It’s not-“ y/n began, biting her lip.

May shook her head, “I’ll get out of your guys’ hair, just be safe”. She turned towards her nephew and curled her the corner of her lips up, “there’s a box of con-“. Before May could finish her sentence Peter cut her off.

“Okay! Got it” Peter blushed. “Not what’s happening, but got it” he sighed, rubbing his face with his hand.

“Oh no , you don’t have to stop on account of us” May said, pushing Happy back from the doorframe.

“Maaaayyy” Peter groaned, “Please stop”. He sighed as May just held her hands to in surrender as she went to close the door again. Only this time, Peter noticed the tears on Happy’s face. Peter felt guilty that Happy’s tears gave him an easy change of topic. Nonetheless, he gasped dramatically, “wait have you been crying?”

Happy pouted, making May resist an eye roll as he confessed, “we broke up”.

“Oh” Peter sighed, glancing between his aunt and Happy. “I-“ he began, only to be interrupted by the sounds of a helicopter as someone shouted “hey Spider-Man”. “Oh, uh-“ Peter mumbled, his racing thoughts and heart picking back up at full speed.

Y/n quickly located a random shirt on Peter’s bed. She picked out up and momentarily held onto it as she watched him web the blinds shut. Once the window was covered, she tossed the shirt to Peter.

“Thank you” Peter smiled softly at y/n. “I didn't know you guys broke up” he sighed sympathetically as he looked at Happy while pulling the shirt over his head. “I thought you were in love, May” Peter fibbed, pushing May out of his room.

May, Happy, and Peter softly bickered as they all made their way to the living room; y/n following behind them. Y/n noticed Peter herding them away from the door just as someone buzzed their apartment. She flicked her eyes over to the door to ensure it was locked. Y/n panicked upon seeing someone standing at the still open front door.

Y/n quickly rushed over and slammed the front door shut. She winced as she realized her frantic response probably didn’t help things. “Sorry! Not now!” Y/n justified, locking the door. As y/n made her way to the others, May smiled at her, “as always, make yourself at home”.

“Now Peter, about sex” May began softly, making Peter groan.

“This has nothing to do with sex!” Peter shouted, his embarrassed eyes shifting over to check on y/n. His eyes changed back to fearful as he watched y/n swiftly closing the blinds as more people surrounded their apartment. Within seconds Peter found himself dashing around the small space in a frazzled attempt to hide any signs of what transpired moments before he and y/n arrived at his home. As he stole Happy and Mays phones, he lightly scolded “can you get off your phones for five minutes?! I just wanna talk to you about your relationship, okay?”

Y/n sighed as she noticed what was on the television behind Peter. She’d been watching as he tried so hard to cover up what Mysterio did, even if just for a few seconds of peace. But, y/n knew the TV gave him away. “Peter..” y/n whispered, pointing to the TV. She figured he’d want it off, but she didn’t want to overstep.

When Peter’s eyes widened as he looked at the news being played, y/n searched for a remote to turn it off. Upon not seeing one quick enough, she took it upon herself. Y/n turned and flicked her fingers, the blue strands of cosmic energy moving speedily towards the television set, “removere potestatem”. Unfortunately, y/n wasn’t fast enough in her decision to use her powers as May and Happy had seen more than enough.

“Peter, what’s going on?” May asked hesitantly, glancing between the kids in front of her.

Y/n looked at Peter to see how to handle the situation. She slyly grabbed his hand and held on to it for support as he struggled to find the words to explain. Y/n’s eyes and hand never left Peter the entire time it took for him to catch May and Happy up to speed.

Y/n stared at Peter silently as MJ and Ned got rid of their letters.

Their group had applied to countless colleges, including last resort back-up options. Over the last few weeks as colleges mailed out their decisions, the four of them received nothing but rejections; even from said last resorts. All the rejection letters cited the same reason, “recent controversy”.

Even though Peter had won his legal battle against Mysterio’s claims, their lives hadn’t returned to normal. Instead, despite being four of the brightest students at their high school, they remained unable to find a college that would admit them. They’d all dreamed of going to MIT for years, and now they couldn’t even get into a small newly formed local community college.

Y/n knew Peter blamed himself. Even though she would never regret anything that happened during their trip to London, she knew he wished to change the ending with Beck. Y/n and Peter had talked about that event in great length since it happened. Y/n was able to take him through it so that his regret and guilt for what happened to Mysterio wasn’t eating at him constantly.

These rejection letters however ,only sent Peter back down his spiral of remorse and depression. While none of their friends blamed him for their inability to get into college, Peter felt responsible. If he’d handled things better with Mysterio, hadn’t let him trick and manipulate him for so long, maybe his friends could get into MIT. Maybe y/n, the girl he loved and wanted to give the world to, could’ve gotten into her dream school. Hell, there was no maybe about it. Peter knew that if it hadn’t been for his mistakes, she’d be packing for MIT. Instead, she was sitting with him and their friends as they stared at their rejection letters.

Y/N slid off her chair and silently made her way to Peter. She watched as he kept his eyes downcast, tears staring to stream down his cheeks. Y/n frowned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him from behind. Peter melted into her embrace, making a small smile from on her lips.

Y/N’s attempts at comforting her boyfriend were cut short as Flash walks in to the coffee shop. He was dressed head to toe in MIT merch and barely notices the look of disappointment on their faces. But when he did, he stopped and asked, “you guys didn't get in?”. Flash instantly regretted his question when Ned sassed that they’d been rejected since they were actually Peter’s friends unlike the way Flash had been falsely portraying he was.

As Flash left, the group sighed collectively. MJ promptly excused herself as she returned to work. Ned picked up on her cue and explained he needed to show his parents the rejection letter. When they’d parted ways, y/n grabbed Peter’s chair and turned it so he was looking at her.

“I’m so sorry” Peter said, his eyes slowing peaking up at y/n. He sniffled quietly as y/n shushed him and pulled him to her. Peter shook his head, this was his fault and y/n was caught in the middle; yet, she was comforting him?

Before Peter could voice his frustration, y/n stepped back and held his face in her palms. “Stop apologizing” she whispered. “The only one blaming you is yourself, Peter” y/n assured him. She lowered her head and pulled his closer to her, pressing her lips against his forehead. “Please try to see it from our perspective” y/n requested, playing softly with his hair.

“I messed up” Peter muttered shyly, clutching tightly onto y/n’s coat. He knew she was going to argue so he kept going. “I.. I pulled you into this chaos and it’s not the life you wanted” Peter explained. “You haven’t even had the chance to consider what you want with your situation and I came in like a… a… uhh… bulldozer and ruined everything” he whispered.

Y/n furrowed her brows as she glanced down at Peter. She shook her head and took a deep breath. “Peter,” y/n whispered, sighing when he kept his eyes on the ground instead of looking at her. “Babe, please look at me” she begged, tenderly squeezing his jaw.

When Peter finally made eye contact with her, y/n smiled softly. “On that plane, with Happy, I decided” she argued. Y/n shook her head as Peter opened his mouth to protest. “You’re right, I hadn’t decided before. But Peter, I was afraid. I didn’t think I could do this alone,” y/n admitted, “I didn’t want to do this alone. I still don’t. But I’m not alone. And neither are you”.

Y/n moved to sit on the stool beside Peter, taking his shaking hands in her warm ones. “Things like this are going to happen, but what matters is that we are there for each other as we work through them” she professed. She grinned as Peter nodded slowly. “Now, my Spider-Lord,” y/n teased, “I must go meet my parents for another training, but, you can call if you need me okay?”

Peter groaned, “uuughh”. “Don’t” he laughed, shaking his head at the horrible nickname that had come as a result of one of the news articles written about him lately. Peter nodded promisingly, standing up and pulling y/n in for a tight hug. “Be careful,” he whispered, placing a shy short kiss to her lips, “but be magical”.

“Peter!” Y/n groaned, rolling her eyes at his returned teasing. She smiled and squeezed his hand once more before turning to leave. Y/n glanced back at Peter as she reached the sidewalk before she truly made her way home; but not before blowing him a kiss when she saw he was watching her still.

Peter sighed to himself as he watched y/n walk down the street, his eyes on her until she left his sight. He appreciated that she didn’t blame him for their inability to get into MIT. But, Peter still blamed himself; after all, the ‘controversy’ The university cited was about him. He had to do something, but what?

As Peter stood from his seat and zipped his jacket, he glanced up to say goodbye to MJ. However, his eyes landed on the Halloween decorations that were still hanging up long past the holiday. In particular, Peter found himself staring at what was supposed to be a string of lighted vampires. He couldn’t place what they looked like to him, but he didn’t see vampires though.

Peter’s lips curled slightly just before he dashed out of the cafe. He’d realized why he was so intrigued by the string of lights; they didn’t look like vampires to him, they looked like Doctor Strange. The one person Peter believed might be able to help him, Y/n, and his friends with their predicament. He wasn’t sure Doctor Strange would agree to help, but he had to at least ask.

Peter shuffled his feet nervously as he waited for Doctor Strange Stephen to answer Peter’s request. He knew it was likely a long shot, but Peter was desperate. Peter’s lips curled downwards as Stephen sighed sympathetically.

“Peter... we tampered with the stability of space-time to resurrect countless lives. You wanna do it again now just because yours got messy?” Stephen Strange asked. He felt for Peter, he really did. But, what Peter was asking was a bit extreme.

Peter shook his head quickly, “this isn't... it's not about me”. He took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. “I mean, this is really hurting a lot of people” Peter explained. “My... my Aunt May, Happy...” he rambled guiltily.

Peter saw the understanding in Stephen’s eyes and kept going. “My best friends,” he added, biting his lip as his frown depended at the thought of the name of the next person he hurt, “my girlfriend, y/n…” Peter shook his head, “their futures are ruined just because they know me, and... they've done nothing wrong”. After he finished his monologue, Peter stared up at Stephen in anticipation. This was his shot, and he could see he was starting to make some headway with the sorcerer.

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thatbanditqueen · 1 year

Text

No One Walks Out Ch 4

No One Walks Out On Big Daddy

Chapter 4: Kaleidoscope

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catch up on Chapter One here

Catch up on Chapter Two here

Catch up on Chapter Three here

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

Sunday, June 14th

1 PM, Pop’s Gas Station

Somewhere in Mississippi

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

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

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

“No, I never said—”

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

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

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

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

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

Becky arched an eye brow.

“Maybe for you, ya wanton woman…”

“Ha!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey - ya nervous?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why it’s Becky!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is the den…whaddya think?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So… is this another den?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enjoy watching you squirm, darlin….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pffft… need.. some…water…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no you don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That thing s’not loaded, is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Honey, I’m bout ta explode…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You truly are a lecherous old goat…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a long silent pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

About thirty seconds of silence passed.

“Well, I ——“

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a bad faker, Becky….”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ida, these clothes barely cover me….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Just imagine this dress but one asymmetical sleeve ^)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vernon called down to Becky. “That true?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything ok?” Becky straightened her dress strap.

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

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

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

“How do you know that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oohhhh, haa…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I've got something to brag about

Something to brag about

Something to brag about in you

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

When you're with the fellas, I know

You start braggin' 'bout

My hour glass figure and my big brown eyes

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

Then a you tell your girlfriends 'bout my

Sweet, sweet lov—‘

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

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

“Heyyyyy daddy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The night they drove old Dixie down

And the bells were ringing

The night they drove old Dixie down

And the people were singing

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

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

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

“Dontcha know… that’s a man’s song?”

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

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

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

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

Becky didn’t notice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You still ain’t the boss a me… ”

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

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

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

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

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

When I breeze into that city

People gonna stoop and bow (hah)

All them women gonna make me

Teach 'em what they don't know how

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

Yeah, go to Jackson

You big-talkin' man

And I'll be waitin' in Jackson

Behind my Jaypan Fan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monday, June 15th

12 p.m. Graceland Master Bedroom

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

“Who the hell care you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope! Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lisa Marie shook her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow…. Have you seen that movie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whose that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Becky chortled. “No…. Not alll…. “

“Are you a working mom?”

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

“OK, but do you work work?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhmmm….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elvis winked.

“Tastes good, don’t it?”

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

Read Chapter 5 Here

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