#and cadillac if you really wanna make things right

[e-adlirez]

An Independent Callout Update

Hi everybody, this is uh, this is exactly what it says on the tin, and I figured I'd make one.

Last you saw me I was offering some appreciation for some funni Tumblr art, and sharing a project long-ish in the making (it was like two months it's not that long). I figured y'know, maybe we can let sleeping dogs lie, maybe I can work on other things and maybe take a br--

NOPE JUST KIDDING someone's still up and about and still trying to prove himself somewhere in the blameless route. I've genuinely never seen someone make this many backflips to make them look innocent since Grace Chastity, which is an accomplishment, by the way! Not a good one by any means, but an accomplishment nonetheless!

Let's dive into it, shall we?

Here we have a Cadillac trying to claim that he was hacked. As you can see, he's failed miserably at trying to ping @2deadkat, @ratonahat and @bloombirdreads, in an attempt to call for help. He's failing to ping them because they blocked his ass a whiiiillleeeee ago. And of course, the "it wasn't his fault, it was someone else acting in my name!" excuse! This is peak "I can't be having impure thoughts! This is the other guy's fault for making me horny!" Cadillac is there something you wish to confess in front of the class?

Two holes in his excuse:

One, you didn't seem to have any issues when you were trying to convince me into thinking that you were trying even the tiniest modicum of owning up to your mistakes (which I have screenshotted here in case you think you can delete them and say I can't prove anything). It was really more of a "I'm changed in literally 2 days, I'm not like that anymore!", which is about as believable as falling into a black hole and coming out alive. In other words, not at all. Even less believable since your writing style doesn't seem to have changed from your older posts to your newer posts, hm....

Two, Cadillac, even if you were telling the truth and got hacked, how did you not notice? Getting your account hacked is a very big deal! You could lose personal information, get doxxed, have your account become a mouthpiece for scams, and that's only the half of it! How did you only notice this just now, on December 22nd of 2023? This is a big affront to your internet safety! It would be impossible!

And if you want to say this is a recent development, then uh, buddy, I have some news for you.

Here I have a screenshot from one of my personal Discords, and so far it's the earliest secondary record I have of Cadillac's shenaniganery.

And you can tell it's really early because a reply to the mini-rant around the same day mentions this funny little detail:

This was back when Cadillac had only made two shirtless G posts on his blog. From July 26th, 2023 to December 22nd, 2023-- that's a five-month time period! Almost half a year of not realizing that you've been hacked! And the strangest thing is you haven't changed a bit before or after! This hacker must've done a very good job making your posts sound like your own by extrapolating your internet personality from-- and I counted-- eight bare-bones posts, hm? /sarcastic

Well okay, remember how I said Cadillac's been very consistent this whole time? Well, I lied. There's Cadillac's most recent post as well:

Dear me, you're sounding awfully mature and respectful here! Is this a miracle? Could you possibly have actually been hacked and the person behind the screen is actually a decent person all alo--

OOP I GUESS NOT!

Buddy, I didn't even need to pull up GPTZero for this, you were sounding so corporate and so fake it wasn't even a contest. You ain't slick, Cadillac, not slick at all.

And for the record, I plugged my entries in the callout post in there too because why not

Yep, a lotta hooman to go around with me, Cadillac. This one in I'm writing right now took about an hour :D Whether or not it's because of having to find sources or just to find a good way to say what I want to, I'll leave that for everyone else to decide.

Anyway, this is your Cadillac callout update, goodnight tristate area.

Yes Cadillac you can bet your ass that the only reason anyone would ever be unblocking you would be for no other reason but this: making callouts that aren't going any time soon. I will admit, one flaw in my original post was the fact that I hyperlinked more than I screenshotted, giving you an opportunity to wipe the evidence. Well, you've got nowhere to hide now, Cadillac. I've caught you in 4K, and these posts aren't going anywhere.

[sissylittlefeather]

Such a Night

A/N: This is just a sweet little thing that started as fluff and then, because it's me, went a little sexy. Anyway, Elvis takes you on a date to see a scary movie. Read on to see what happens.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, this is pretty tame, kissing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, ejaculation, loss of virginity so small mention of pain during sex and blood

Word count: ~2k

You dig your face further into Elvis's shoulder as something else in the movie makes you jump. You've spent most of the film buried in his chest, but he seems to really be enjoying it. And you can't lie, you do like being so close to him. He has his hand wrapped around you, holding your waist tightly. You lean over the arm of the movie theater seat and practically sit on his lap, your wide skirt spread out over him. He has his other hand up underneath on your knee. You start to wonder if he picked the scary movie on purpose just to touch you.

You look at the screen and jump again. He chuckles softly and turns, kissing your forehead.

"You're okay, honey. It's just a movie."

"I know, but I don't like it!" He squeezes your knee.

"Do you wanna leave?" You think about it and he kisses your forehead again. Maybe you can stick it out, if he keeps kissing you.

"No. Is it almost over?"

"I think so. I've got you!" He holds you tighter as you jump yet again, flinching just a little himself.

Finally, the movie ends and you sit there for a bit, wrapped around each other. As the credits run, he squeezes you and then pats on your knee.

"Are you ready, honey?"

"Mhmm." You look up at him from your place on his shoulder and he kisses your lips gently.

You've been dating for a few months now, so he feels comfortable kissing you so casually. He cups your face and runs his thumb over your cheek.

"Hey, honey, are you gonna be okay tonight?"

"I'm probably gonna have nightmares."

"Yeah, I was thinkin' about that. You wanna... stay... with me...?" You sit up and look into his face. It's a little shocking for him to suggest such a thing. "We won't... you know... do anything... I just wanna hold ya and make sure you're alright."

"Yes. I think I'd like that a lot." He relaxes and kisses your forehead again. You've never stayed with a boy before, but you're 20 years old. It's probably time. And he seems like the right one to take this chance with.

You peel yourself off of him and stand up, stretching from being in the same position for so long. He throws his arm around your shoulders and leads you out of the theater. It's very late, but you make your way to his Cadillac under the stars. In the car, you slide over to him and lay your head on his shoulder.

He pulls into the driveway of his house on Audubon drive. Luckily, probably due to the hour, there aren't any fans gathered around. He knows he'll have to move soon to a place with a gate, but for tonight, you're safe. He tries to think of how he'll explain to his mother that you're staying the night, but she's nowhere to be found when you get inside. He exhales deeply and takes your hand, leading you back to his bedroom.

Once you get there, he closes the door softly and then turns to you. He pulls a set of pajamas out of a drawer.

"You can have the top and I'll wear the bottoms. I'm sorry I don't have another clean set." You suspect this might be a white lie, but you don't argue. Instead you take the top and turn away from him to change. He watches you for a minute and then turns to change as well. Once you get the pajama top on, you chance a peek at him as he changes catching him in nothing but underwear momentarily. He turns back to face you, shirtless in the pajama pants.

"Well, should we get in bed, honey?" Thats when you realize how nervous he is. It doesn't seem like he's done this before either. You nod and walk over to the bed. It doesn't look big enough for two people, but you're willing to make it work, so you climb in and scoot over to the wall. He lays down next to you and opens his arms. You move over to him and lay your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you. You look up at him and he kisses your lips gently. Something builds in the kiss, and you press your body to him. He shudders away from you a bit and pulls back from the kiss. "We should go to sleep."

"Yeah. We should." He sighs deeply and kisses your forehead yet again. You settle into his shoulder and close your eyes. It takes a bit, but eventually you fall asleep.

You wake up to him gasping and sitting up frantically. You're not sure he's awake as he whimpers.

"Elvis! Elvis! It's okay!" He's sweating and panting and you pat his cheek to try to wake him up.

"What the hell? Oh..." You can tell he's finally awake.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry honey, that movie..."

"It's okay; you're okay." You settle back down on the bed with his head on your chest and your arms around his shoulders. He holds you around the waist and shakes a little. "You're safe, baby."

He nods on your chest and you feel him relax while you hold him. After a few minutes, he laughs.

"I was makin' fun of you and here I am havin' a nightmare. I'm glad you're here, honey." You smile and squeeze him a little.

"I am too." He looks up at you and you press your lips to his gently. The same thing that was between you earlier starts to build again. Electricity gathers somewhere between your thighs and he rolls his hips into your leg. You feel something hard pressed there and your heart starts to beat faster. His tongue slides into your mouth and he rearranges to be on top of you. The heat of your passion ignites in the way your tongues dance against each other. Just when you think you're reaching a point of no return, he pulls back, breathing heavily. He presses his forehead to yours.

"I promised we wouldn't do this."

"Do you not want to?" He lets out a small laugh.

"Oh, no honey, I want to. I'm just not sure we should. Have you ever..?"

"No..."

"Me neither. We shouldn't."

"No, you're probably right."

You lay there with him on top of you, foreheads pushed together and breathing heavily for a good thirty seconds.

And then he kisses you.

Something inside you takes flight and you don't even protest as he keeps kissing you, his hands sliding up under the pajama top you're wearing. His kisses move down your neck to your chest and he uses shaky hands to pull your panties down. Your hands go to the waistband of his pants and you don't even hesitate. You just push them down with his underwear. Your eyes go wide when you see him, having never laid eyes on a naked man before. His hands undo the buttons on your pajama shirt and eventually you're both naked as the day you were born. He lets his hands and his mouth roam over your body and your back arches without you even thinking about it. He holds himself in one hand and lines up with your entrance.

"This is what you want?" You think for just a second, but the answer is clear.

"Yes."

"It'll probably hurt."

"I know. But I want this. I want you." He looks into your eyes and then kisses you deeply.

"You can tell me if you change your mind and I'll stop." His blue eyes are round and sincere. You nod and he starts to push into you slowly. There's a little resistance and it starts to sting, so you whimper. His eyebrows go together in concern.

"Should I stop? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It just hurts a little but don't stop. Please." He nods and looks back down where you're connected, pushing slowly again. He grunts as the sensation of you wrapped around him overtakes him. It burns as he pushes and just when you're about to tell him to stop, something changes and it stops hurting. You gasp a little and he looks up at you in a panic.

"What? Is it bad?"

"No! No, it's good!" He smiles and kisses you, pushing the last little bit of himself inside you. He moans and shudders.

"It feels so good, honey. Can I... move? Are you okay?"

"Yes! I think I'm okay now. You can try moving." He slides out of you slowly and then pushes back in. He does it a few more times and you relax as he picks up a rhythm. Once you let go a little, you notice that it's starting to feel good... really good. A soft moan escapes your lips and he stops moving.

"No! Don't stop!" A smile spreads across his face and he goes back to pumping in and out of you. He whimpers again.

"Honey, this feels incredible... I'm probably gonna... finish... soon."

"How does that... work...?"

"I'll pull out..." He pumps a few more times and then can't stand it anymore. He almost misses it, but he pulls out just in time and his release shoots out onto the inside of your thighs. He shudders and groans as it does and you're in awe of how beautiful he looks with his lips parted slightly and his eyes closed. When he's finished, he kisses you again and then stands up to get something to clean you up with. He comes back with a towel and wipes your legs. There's a tiny bit of blood on his sheets that he prays his mother won't notice. He pulls his pants on, slides your panties back up your legs, and lays down next to you, running his hand over your stomach.

"I know I promised we wouldn't-"

"But I'm glad we did."

"You're sure?"

"I am."

"Me too." He leans over and captures your lips in a kiss. Then, he lays on his back and pulls you in to rest against his chest. "You turned my nightmare into a dream come true."

You laugh softly together as you settle in to go back to sleep. When you wake up, everything has changed, but in a good way. You may have gone to bed as two, but in the morning you're one. Neither of you ever looks back.

******

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 7

MASTERLIST

Parking her bike next to the sidewalk, Delilah pulled out her phone and dialed his number via the FaceTime app. She couldn’t help but smile a little when his bearded face popped up on her screen, a hoodie over his head and sunglasses covering his eyes. He had to be out in public which explained the attempted disguise.

“Ayyyy, wassup baby girl?” Josh smiled brightly at her through the phone. “I was just about to call y-”

“Are you back in town?” she asked.

“Yeah, got back last night. Why? Ya miss me?” he teased.

“Can you meet me? I need y-...need to talk to you.”

His brows furrowed with concern. “Ay, you good?”

She didn’t mean to sound impatient but she craved his presence right now. “I’m headed to President’s Park. Can you meet me there?”

“Yeah, let me finish up with grocery shopping. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Okay.” Twenty wasn’t too bad. There wouldn’t be too much time to wrangle with her angry thoughts, which seemed to be the only thoughts she harbored lately thanks to her infuriating fiancé.

Josh pulled up in a Cadillac Escalade. His car collection was the stuff of dreams. WWE was definitely paying him well. When he stepped out, she found her heart racing a little bit. Man, he looked really good. Only he could make a simple tank top and joggers look fire. “Nice ride,” she greeted, ensuring her hug was strictly sideways. If he noticed, he said nothing. Thank goodness.

“Nice bike, ah-yeet!” he quipped back, making her laugh. He opened up the back of the truck and pulled out a bag filled with groceries. “I brought snacks,” he offered, bringing out a bottle of beer and handing it to her, helping her inside the back of his spacious trunk. 

“Thanks.” They sat shoulder to shoulder, basking in the quiet of the empty parking lot overlooking the vast park. Delilah was reminded of all the tailgate parties from back in high school, all of which had involved Andre, when things had been so much less complicated.

Inwardly, Josh admitted that he missed Delilah. This was their first face-to-face meeting in two months thanks to his constant traveling, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to her phone calls and FaceTime chats, answering her whenever he could. Her enthusiasm was infectious and he was glad to be there for her when she needed him. 

“So…you wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” He finally broke the silence, looking her way. “Cuz you do not look fine.” He paused, smiling cheekily at her. “I mean, you fine, but-”

“Stop.” Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she presented him with the letter that had caused all this chaos. She told him what happened, leaving out the condom part of course. It should have been weird talking to him about her personal life, but they’d been conversing for a few months now and he always seemed happy to let her talk his ear off about wrestling and more. Having the guidance of a man of his influence was exactly what she needed to help her stay positive about her new career shift.

“So long story short, you keep expectin’ him to come around and he ain’t?" Josh asked, knowing the emotions she was dealing with all too well. 

Delilah shook her head, tossing a macadamia nut into her mouth. “No, and I’m tired! I swear to God I just wanna throttle his ass sometimes,” she griped, “Or hit him with a Spear or something. Drive my shoulder right into his gut, ya know?”

"Why you still with him, then?" Josh said pointedly, almost regretting the eagerness in his tone when she cast a questioning glance at him. He played it off with a shrug of his tattooed shoulders. "I mean, if he’s so unsupportive, why put up with his ass? Why not just leave?"

Because it was unfathomable to her. Despite the fact that she complained about him almost constantly these days, she never considered leaving him. At least not seriously. But the offer from WWE had compelled her, for the first time since embarking on this journey, to understand that choosing her career could possibly mean leaving Andre behind. She felt he was starting to realize it too and didn’t know how to handle it.

Swinging her legs absently underneath her, she shielded her eyes against the sun. "He wasn’t always like this," she defended her man. Which was the truth. It hurt that things had changed so much.

Josh stared at the woman next to him. She was twenty-four years old, which was way too young to be worrying over a miserable relationship in which she wasn’t even married yet. "How long have y’all been together?" he asked, pretending that he cared.

"Since I was fifteen, so nine years," she answered. "Engaged for almost two years now." 

Josh swallowed another long gulp of his beer. "Why you wanna get married?" 

Delilah thought about her answer. Because it was the logical next step for any woman to take, according to her mother and aunties at least. Because it was the easy choice. “Because I love Andre and I wanna be his wife," she finally said, shrugging her shoulders and staring at the crisp Jordans on Josh’s feet. She understood that her reasoning was naive, but at the time she accepted Andre’s proposal, she was young and bright-eyed and believed in fairytales.

"Why you wanna be a wrestler?" Josh asked next.

She didn’t have to think too hard. "For years, I wondered if I could cut it. My late dad and I watched Raw every Monday night.” She smiled at the memories. She missed him. She could have done with his advice right now. “My friends at school were obsessed. There was no Tuesday when we weren’t talking about it. Because I was so athletic, I had the best chance out of all of us to make it if we really wanted to. I took one step further because I had to know for certain."

Josh nodded slowly, processing the information she had just given him. "Well, the higher-ups think you got somethin’," he gestured with the letter in his hand. "So whatchu gon’ do about it?" 

Delilah snatched the letter back and rolled her eyes at his question. “Um, that’s why you’re here, you’re supposed to tell me.”

“Advise you? Yeah. Tell you what to do? Naw,” he clarified, leaning back in his seated position to observe her. “No matter what I say, the decision is ultimately up to you, which is something you gotta seriously think about when WWE hires you. What Tank say?”

“He’s waiting for my decision on the flight tickets.” 

“Meaning he’s on board. So that leaves Andre.”

Shaking her head slowly, Delilah stared at her hands, using the brightness of the sun as an excuse to avoid his gaze while she fought to keep her composure. "To be fair," she whispered, "I'm asking him to drop everything for me."

Tossing his empty beer bottle into a bag of trash on the ground in front of them, he reached across her lap to grab the bag of trail mix. It would have been easier to ask her to pass it, but for some weird reason he wanted to get a little closer to her. "If it were the other way around, would you do the same for him?" he asked.

It really shouldn’t have been this easy baring her soul to Josh, but it was. For some absurd reason, she felt that she could trust him. "Yes, I would. At least that would have been my answer before I started training," she confessed. "Part of the reason Andre let me enroll in Tank’s school was because he thought I would get it out of my system. And I knew that. I knew that he wasn't expecting it to become what it is now.” She swallowed, tears stubbornly piercing through the corners of her eyes. “You shoulda seen the look on his face when he opened that letter. It was like I unleashed some kind of hell that we could never return from. Like I ruined his life. Maybe I have.”

The complete lack of support from her future husband, to the point that she was doubting herself, made the Samoan angrier than he should have been. Her relationship was none of his business, but since getting to know her, he felt like Delilah Parrish had now become his business. He wanted to protect her, encourage her, make sure that she realized her full potential. And if her fiancé was the problem, then that was a problem for Josh.

Wanting to shift some of the focus off of herself, Delilah cleared her throat and looked at the big man with wide apprehensive eyes. "Please be honest with me, Josh. This whole wrestling thing…is it worth it? Is it worth sacrificing everything I know? Should I rip up that letter and return to the stability of a normal life?"

Pursing his lips, Josh rolled his shoulders. In his opinion, she was not ready to hear the truth. And as open as she had been with him, he wasn't exactly ready to reciprocate. But he did owe her a candid response. And judging from the way her fists gripped the edges of her seat, she was expecting nothing less from him. She was looking to him for answers that nobody else could really give her, and he wanted to be the one she could lean on.

"For me, it was," he admitted. It was his turn to gaze at his palms. "I know the hell I went through to get to where I was in the business before I got married. I worked too fuckin’ hard for too many years to watch it go down the drain. Especially to be with someone who wanted me to give it all up."

Delilah wasn’t sure why her heart sank, but it did. “So you are married.”

“Separated,” he corrected, “The longer I was away from home, the more our marriage suffered. We tried to make it work for our sons, but it wasn’t happening. This business takes a lot outta you, uce. You gotta figure out for yourself if the sacrifices are all worth it.”

Delilah expelled a long breath and placed a comforting hand on his bicep. "I’m sorry," was all she could say. 

Acutely aware of her touch, Josh struggled to reconstruct the wall he had built around his private life. He didn't like letting people in, and the fact that he’d easily done so just now, unsettled him. "But that's me though. Don't let my decisions affect yours," he added quickly, scooting out of the truck and landing on his feet, breathing in the outdoor air. He turned to face her fully, smoothing his hands over his pants. "Go to Orlando. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. Even if nothing comes out of it, it’s an experience you’ll carry with you forever."

Suddenly overwhelmed, all Delilah could do was nod, wrapping her arms protectively around herself. So many thoughts were running through her mind like a malfunctioning treadmill. Making the mchoice seemed so simple before, but now she was more torn than ever.

Josh saw right through her trepidation. "Hey, come here," he said, stepping between her open legs to wrap her up in a warm embrace. It was a bold move on his part, and he waited to be pushed away but it didn’t happen. He heard her soft sigh, felt her chin on his shoulder and her arms tighten around his back. Fighting the urge to dip his face into the crook of her neck, he held her loosely, one hand resting just above the curve of her backside. 

"I been watching, baby girl,” he whispered in her ear. “You got so much potential, a chance to be great in this business. Plus, you sexy as fuck," he added, chuckling when she smacked his arm. “Homie, I’m engaged. To another man. You cannot be saying stuff like that to me,” she warned.

He merely shrugged. “Just cuz you engaged don’t make it any less true.” When she gazed up at him, he caressed her chin with his fingers. "All I’m saying is, the only thing holding you back right now, Delilah, is you."

This was way too intimate. Her skin prickled from his touch, both on her chin and on the small of her back. Her loins tingled from the lustful twinkle in his eyes, the drag of his teeth over his bottom lip.  The erotic fantasies she'd been keeping at bay for months resurfaced, causing her heart to pound. He was getting too close. She had to stop it before she went too far, before she did something she couldn't take back. Gently but deliberately, she peeled herself out of his grasp and made a point of snatching the bag of trail mix to keep her hands busy. Thankfully, Josh read the room and took a step back, tucking his hands into the pockets of his joggers. She was grateful for the space.

"So what’s it gonna be?" he inquired, “To go or not to go?”

Delilah chewed pensively as she pondered her decision. It was safe to say that she was convinced to take this chance she may never get again. With a shrug, she looked him in the eye, hers glinting with steely determination.

“Yeah,” she said. “I think I’ll go.”

-----------------

Thoughts?

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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[multifandomworldsposts]

Day 9 of Kinktober: Car Sex with Ashton Irwin

pairing: ashton irwin x fem!reader

warning: Making out, unprotected sex, blowing

Y/N’s POV

Ashton picks me up to go out on a date with him and he recently got a new car, a Cadillac, and I’m really excited to see inside.

He drives up to my house and the car looks gorgeous and big enough to fit 5 people in it. I get in and I’m jealous on how the car looks so fucking amazing inside.

“You ready?” Ashton ask me.

“I am.” I smile.

He takes us to BOA Steakhouse with the other members of 5 Seconds of Summer and their girlfriends. A lot of us got a bunch of sea food, steak, and pasta. Some fans of us came up to talk to us and some wanted pictures of us or just 5 seconds of summer with them.

While we were eating Ashton whispers some sweet nothings in my ear.

“When we’re done here, do you want to go somewhere?”

“Where Ash?” I whisper in his ear.

“Maybe, the Overlook.” He whispers back.

The Overlook, which you can see the city view, and people can make out up there, I hope we’re actually going to see the city view.

“If you want to Ash.” I said.

“I wanna go.” He whispers again.

“We’ll go alright.” I whisper back.

After dinner Ashton and I went to the Overlook, which the city looks amazing and pretty. Ashton kisses my neck, I giggle a little bit. I kiss him back, I tug his hair.

“You wanna go in the back?” He stops kissing me and says.

"Yes," I say.

We got in the back and continued making out, he began to kiss my neck again giving me hickeys. I moan, he makes us do nose to nose.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He said.

“We have done it before.” I said.

“I know but not in a car.” He said while looking into my eyes.

I mean it’s true but I’m scared we might ruin the seats. I nod. I love him and I want him so badly.

Ashton lays me on the car seats, unzips my dress and I unbutton his dress shirt and I try to unbuckle his belt, he helps me out with it. I help him getting his boxers off, I need him now.

“You ready?” He makes sure.

“Yes. Make love to me Ash.” I said.

He kisses me again, I tug on his hair again, which made him smile in our kiss. He positions himself towards my pussy, he starts to go in and out of me slowly, I moan, I can feel him how big he is. I put my right leg around his waist, I feel him touching my leg. He goes a little faster, I gasp. He’s so good at this.

He gives me love bites on my chest, I look up to see the windows getting foggy, holy hell. I make him lay on the car seat and have him hickeys as well. The way he moans, it sounds so sexy. I start to blow him, I can feel him tugging my hair l keep going.

“Keep going baby, fuck, you’re so good at this.” Ashton says in a deep voice.

I keep on going, I feel his cum in my mouth and I keep on going up and down. He groans. God damn it, I don’t want to stop. He cums in my mouth, he tasted so good to be honest.

I lay on Ashton and I can feel his heart beating, I can tell he enjoyed that session of ours.

“That was so good Y/N/N.” He heavily breathed.

“I’m glad you liked it Ash.” I look at him.

“Liked it? I loved it.” He smiled.

“Can we do this at home not in a car?” I ask him.

“Why’s that?” He asks.

“The bed is more comfortable.” I cuddle into his chest.

“I rather do this more often.”

“Ashton.” I playfully hit him.

“If you want to, I’m not going to force you Y/N/N.”

I give him a small smile, I love him so much but I do not want to have sex in a car what so ever, it’s just not my thing to do anywhere.

“I love you Y/N.”

“In what way? like me blowing you or actually you’re in love with me on I do on a regular basis?” I question.

“On a regular basis, besides on what you just did to me, I love you so much, a lot people can see it Y/N/N.”

I kiss him, I love this man and he loves me but car sex is so uncomfortable to do in any car.

[thatbanditqueen]

No One Walks Out Ch 4

No One Walks Out On Big Daddy

Chapter 4: Kaleidoscope

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catch up on Chapter One here

Catch up on Chapter Two here

Catch up on Chapter Three here

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

Sunday, June 14th

1 PM, Pop’s Gas Station

Somewhere in Mississippi 

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

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

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

“No, I never said—”

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

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

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

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

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

Becky arched an eye brow.

“Maybe for you, ya wanton woman…”

“Ha!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey - ya nervous?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why it’s Becky!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is the den…whaddya think?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So… is this another den?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enjoy watching you squirm, darlin….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pffft… need.. some…water…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no you don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That thing s’not loaded, is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Honey, I’m bout ta explode…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You truly are a lecherous old goat…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a long silent pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

About thirty seconds of silence passed.

“Well, I ——“

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a bad faker, Becky….”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ida, these clothes barely cover me….” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Just imagine this dress but one asymmetical sleeve ^)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vernon called down to Becky. “That true?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything ok?” Becky straightened her dress strap.

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

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

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

“How do you know that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oohhhh, haa…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I've got something to brag about 

Something to brag about 

Something to brag about in you

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

When you're with the fellas, I know 

You start braggin' 'bout 

My hour glass figure and my big brown eyes

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

Then a you tell your girlfriends 'bout my 

Sweet, sweet lov—‘

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

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

“Heyyyyy daddy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The night they drove old Dixie down 

And the bells were ringing 

The night they drove old Dixie down 

And the people were singing 

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

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

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

“Dontcha know… that’s a man’s song?”

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

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

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

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

Becky didn’t notice. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You still ain’t the boss a me… ”

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

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

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

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

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

When I breeze into that city 

People gonna stoop and bow (hah) 

All them women gonna make me 

Teach 'em what they don't know how

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

Yeah, go to Jackson 

You big-talkin' man 

And I'll be waitin' in Jackson 

Behind my Jaypan Fan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monday, June 15th

12 p.m. Graceland Master Bedroom

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

“Who the hell care you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope! Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lisa Marie shook her head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow…. Have you seen that movie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whose that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Becky chortled. “No…. Not alll…. “

“Are you a working mom?”

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

“OK, but do you work work?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhmmm….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elvis winked.

“Tastes good, don’t it?”

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

Read Chapter 5 Here

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

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Did I miss you? Or are you new to me and want to be added to the taglist, just let me know.

[yuzukult]

Either is fine <3

hehe i’ll drop one here for u just a lil

it’s a lil rough but bear w me

TW: mentions of guns !!

“I like you.”

You blink blankly.

Kim Mingyu always manages to put himself in the worst positions. Last week, Hana, his employee at the cafe he owned, had asked him if he wanted to go out for dinner—being as naive as he is, he assumed a group dinner, only to find himself sitting across the table from her at some fancy three Michelin star restaurant with a small candle lit between them. A month ago, he agreed to help his friend Joshua fix up his house and without asking for details is how he ended up stuck on a roof because the shingles needed to be replaced… and well, he’s afraid of heights. Then at another time, his sister asked for a ride and he quickly agreed without any questions when he clearly should have because he was sitting outside of a sketchy ass alleyway in center city. It’s where the boy he disapproved his sister of dating lived, right beside all the homeless people and junkies resided.

And now, with you laying flat on top of a building somewhere downtown, he says those words nervously over your earbuds as you watch your target through the ocular lens. Does he know what he’s getting himself into?

“What?”

Mingyu takes in a deep breath of courage to reiterate himself. “I like you. Like, a lot. I know you’re gonna say that I don’t know you well enough to like you—”

“—you don’t—”

“—but you make me feel things in my chest that I can’t control.”

“What? You’re mistaking how you feel for me for heartburn?” You spot the four Cadillacs parked outside of the building across the street with bodyguards that begin to surround the area. Mingyu better speed this up or you’ll hang up on him.

He sighs. “It’s not heartburn. I like you, really. I wanna give this a shot, but only if you let me.”

“Ask out Hana. She’s pretty.”

“It’s not just about a girl being pretty. It’s about her personality too—how she is, where she’s from, what she does for a living…” you laugh quietly and he barely catches it. “… see! You think I’m funny too. It’s a great trait in a guy. Doesn’t hurt to give me a shot, does it?”

Ironically, it does hurt when you get shot, especially with the intent you have at the moment with a rifle in hand.

“Let me call you back.”

“Wait, what—” Click.

[seokjinsonlyone]

Ok LMFAO DONT ASK ME HOW I THOUGHT OF THIS BUT I NEED YOUR OPINION

who is mtl to get grumpy or jealous over the thought of you being lovely dovey for someone else or a previous partner. Like who just thinks about you doing the things they love that you do for them for someone else and then they get all upset about it LMFAOO

My guess

Jungkook (HE GOTTA BE THE FIRST ON THE LIST)

Taehyung (Mr. I’ll start little fights with my s/o)

Jimin (Mr. Jealousy.. that leads to cuddling or 🤭)

Yoongi (Special moments are very important to him and if he thinks too much about you having those moments with anyone else he gets pouty ☺️)

Namjoon (He understands and respects the fact y’all were with people before each other BUT if this mans get too deep into thought about you giving whats now rightfully his to someone else.. he’s not gonna be in the best mood)

Seokjin (You’re his now why would he care? 🙄 he’ll care only a little bit cause he’s a die hard romantic and if he thinks about you doing the things he loves for someone else he’s chest get tingling in a bad way 🥺 he’ll play it off though as best as he can)

Hoseok (Your his and his only now so thinking about who had you before doesn’t really bother him, definitely will laugh over the fact they lost out on someone amazing but he gained. Thinking of anyone having you after is also laughable cause it ain’t happening 😌 don’t get it twisted though, baby boy does get jealous and if it does ever bother him he’s finna be all up on you 🤭 take that however you please)

Ok your turn 🤭✨

jungkook is definitely first!!! you right about that one like i’m sorry i’m referencing the perilla leaf debate for the 14829384th time but i will continue to do so bc he was sooooo serious like did not crack one smile the entire time they was talking about it💀 he don’t wanna hear nun bout no ex nd what u did with them point blank pyramid he don’t even wanna see u getting too chummy wit yo friends tbh like if u and yo homegirl was sharing an appetizer or you let her taste yo drink or sumn he would catch a major attitude

taehyung is second only bc i feel like he’s the most dramatic like with everyone else i feel like this could be a Thing but with tae it’s gon be an Incident there’s gonna be an argument for sure a whole “do you even care about me at all? why are we even together??” segment it’s gonna be something out of a YA novel liable to last anywhere from 4 hours to 4 days but at the same time i feel like he’d make it more of a competition than anything else like he may not be the first but he gon be the best and hopefully the last

with joon i’m thinking about how in his rolling stone interview with what’s his face pharrell! when he was talking about how sometimes he hear a song so good he get jealous that he ain’t make it so yeah when it come to you i feel like if he tried to show you one of his favorite spots like a restaurant or sumn nd you absentmindedly was like “oh i’ve been there i went with so and so” he’d lowkey be pissed 😅 like he gon play it cool but it’s the thought of u being at one of his favorite places without him with someone else you were involved with lowkey it’s gon eat him up a little

i think that jimin is like really good with interpersonal relationships like every conversation about exes and likes and dislikes and boundaries all that good stuff will have been had so when he get upset it’s gon be because he done let his imagination get away from like one night he gon be up bc he can’t sleep and the intrusive thoughts will win or y’all will meet up with your friends and you gon have a homie that you done known since way back in the cadillac and he’ll get jealous of how close your bond is and then he’ll get distant and a little snappy and you’ll have to call him out a bit and give him some reassurance to bring him back to normal

hobi the type to say that he don’t care until he do 💀 like he’ll be perfectly fine until he sees or thinks about you doing something with someone else and it’s just gon sit in the corner of his mind like an itch that he can’t quite reach to scratch he not gon make a big deal out of it like he’ll try to deal with it himself for the most part but if he can’t he’ll bring it up lightly nd then you’ll talk about it and then that’s just gon be that on that

yoongi wouldn’t care fr fr like he know how relationships work and understands that you had a few just like he had a few 🤷‍♀️ but what would absolutely tick him off is if you did something with him that you claimed you only ever did with him and then he find out that you did it with everyone else nd they mama like is he a joke to you? is he just another dude to you? and what you got to lie for? that wouldn’t sit right with him but so long as you’re forthcoming it’s whatever nd knows his worth he know you’d be hard pressed to do better than him

seokjin is our unbothered king he’s always said he’s a man of the present so he is not worried about the past at all and the future only warrants minor consideration like as long as y’all cool he not spending no time pondering about other people bc he simply does not care 😌 nor does he care to care he worried about u nd him nd das it 🙅🏾‍♀️

[blehcupidd]

Jealous Girl

Chapter Nineteen

Xavier Thorpe x fem!oc

A/n: Taken from my Wattpad made at the beginning of 2023, some written mistakes and i had a note about what happen with Percy Hanes White, that note will put put at the end of this chapter.

Also ignore mistakes please i wrote this whilst looking at the tv show so if it says that someone looks at something but it didnt state what, ignore it im sorry.

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Over the next few days not much happened. The only key part is that the mayor had been killed. It had been someone in a blue cadillac, a hit and run. This has pushed the police even more than before, facing public outcry by the residents of Jericho.

Évangéline had been in Enid and Wednesday's room, already being apart of the latters plans.

"I've been thinking about my less-than-enthusiastic response to your surprise soirée." Wednesday spoke, opposite Enid and Évangéline, still having a less-than-enthusiastic response. "And I must admit, I regret not showing my gratitude towards you more appropriately."

This perked Enid up from her position on the bed. "You really mean it?" Enid asked, swaying her shoulders.

"Take the win, Enid." Évangéline rested a hand on Enid. Making sure Enid's attention was else where, Évangéline gave Wednesday a nod.

"If only there were a way for us to get off campus and have a little birthday redo." Wednesday took the hint. "Just me, you and Évangéline. Too bad the school is on lockdown."

Évangéline walked towards the window, Wednesday and Enid following in tow. "Would you look at that full moon..."

This had given Enid an idea. "Oh, how about I say I'm about to wolf out and get a pass to the lupin cages? And say you two volunteered to lock me in."

"My deviousness has finally rubbed off on you." Enid chuckled at Wednesday's words. "Thing? You know what to do right?" Thing did a thumbs up, pausing hud rubix cube.

The girls began to leave, but Enid had an idea. "Oh, we should wear our snoods!"

"Don't worry Evan, I have a purple one I was going to give you."

"Oh, I believe I left mine at fencing." Wednesday fawned remorse.

"Well, I don't have one so I wouldn't be able to join in." Évangéline shrugged her shoulders.

"Don't worry Evan, I have a purple one I was going to give you." Enid waves off Évangéline. "And actually, Wednesday, you left yours at the Weathervane. Luckily, Bianca brought it back." Enid held out two snoods towards her friends.

"Like a monkey's paw." Wednesday took the snood, soon followed by Évangéline.

The three girls left the room, Enid leading the way, missing the small high five shared between Wednesday and Évangéline, and eye roll.

Wednesday had organised a ride, that ride being Tyler. Évangéline had always gotten weird vibes from him every time they were in contact, he was always so awkward with her every time she goes to Weathervane.

Enid and Évangéline got into the car after Wednesday, seeing their driver. "Wait, he's our Uber driver?" Enid asks.

"Uber driver?" Tyler looked back at Enid and Évangéline then to Wednesday. "I thought we weee going in a date?"

"I thought this was a girls' night out." Enid complained in the back.

"There's been a change of plans." Wednesday explained, not looking at the two.

"What's up with the weird matching hoodie scarf things?" Tyler asked another question, sparring Évangéline a glance.

"Don't ask." Wednesday interrupted. "Just drive."

Meanwhile, a figure was making his way towards Wednesday and Enid's dorm window. "Hey, Wednesday?" Xavier called through the window, rapping his knuckles on the glass. "Are you guys in here?" He took a deep breath. "I know it's a bit weird that you saw the drawing of Évangéline, but I just want to talk to you for a second."

Nothing was answering him, yet he heard typing. Opening the window, he saw it was Thing typing. "Where is she Thing? Is she with Angel?"

The four arrives at the gates of the Gates mansion. "Seriously, you wanna go in there." Enid asks in disbelief. "This place is creepy AF."

"I know." Wednesday was suppressing a smile.

"Okay. This isn't what I signed up for." Tyler refused.

"Ditto." Enid agreed.

"It could be...fun." Évangéline suggested, earning a look from Enid and Tyler.

"You were in on this?" Enid's jaw dropped.

"I didn't want to celebrate my birthday by going to dinner or a surprise party." Wednesday saved Évangéline. "I want to do this." She had unlocked the gate.

"Then you shoulda just said so. You didn't have to trick us." Tyler tried to reason.

"If either of you want to go, you can." Wednesday began to walk away, Évangéline following. "We are going to check out the garage."

All four had reached the garage door, just to see it was locked. Both Tyler and Wednesday had tried, both failed.

"Can I try?" Enid asked, looking at Évangéline and Wednesday; both giving her a nod. With just a few tugs, the door broke open.

The garage was dark and dingy. Évangéline had found a light, revealing a covered car. The flickering lights covered up, but failed, the colour of the car; blue.

"That's the car that hit the mayor." Enid's voice spoke from behind Wednesday. "Okay. This just took a dark turn. We need to call Tyler's dad right freaking now."

"Why?" Wednesday asked, not wanting the sheriff to be involved. "So he can take me back to Nevermore and get me expelled? It's not gonna happen."

Making their way deeper into the house, they knew it had been abandoned. The dust particles were floating around, spider webs decorated corners.

"This is the night I'm gonna die." Évangéline's corroer voice quivered. She had been happy in the beginning, but she doesn't know what she got herself into.

Slowly, they entered a room full of cobwebs and antlers; it seemed to be someone's study. All four were looking around for anything that could be what they were looking for.

Wednesday had pressed something on the bookshelf; revealing a painting, showing the hatred towards outcasts. "Who doesn't have a spooky built in altar in their family library?" Évangéline sarcastically asked no one in particular.

"Ours is in the living room." Wednesday drawled, earning a look from Évangéline, Enid and Tyler. "More seating for year long Día de los muertos."

The candles along the bottom of the painting caught Évangéline's eyes. Walking up to them, she felt them; lifting her hand back up, she eyed the residue and turned around. "They're still warm."

"Tyler and Évangéline, you check the rest of the ground floor." Wednesday ordered. "Enid and I will search upstairs." Enid and Wednesday walked off, leaving Tyler and Évangéline.

Both Tyler and Évangéline stayed together. That was until they approached two rooms. "I go left." Évangéline shone a light towards the left side of the hallway. "You go,"

"Right." Tyler finished, both shining a torch to the right side of the hallway.

Évangéline was finally alone. Not that she wanted to in these circumstances, yet she enjoyed it. The room was one of the bigger rooms, seems like it had been a living room.

She had finished in that room, not seeing anything notable, and made her way to Tyler's room. "Tyler?" She asked, not seeing him in the kitchen. Looking around, she didn't see the table and walked into it. Causing something to fall and to shatter.

Using her powers, she lifted it up and saw it was newly bought flowers. Hearing another shatter, she turned. Seeing nothing, she continued to inspect the flowers.

The sound of growling was prominent, almost like the growling she had heard on outreach day. Turning around to could see the heavy breathing monster she had seen many times; that being once in person and many paintings by Xavier. The hot breath was prominent and the smell of blood was lingering.

Forcing herself out of the shocked trance, she turned to run away. This was halted as the monster had sunk its claws into her shoulder. "Run!" She shouted, her voice hoarse showing her pain.

Holding her left hand to her right shoulder, she could feel the blood loss. Tyler's voice could finally be heard, "Guys! Get out! It's here!" The slashes she had not long heard was prominent and was followed with a scream from Tyler.

She had ran up the stairs to see Enid and Wednesday, "The dum waiter. Go!" She winced multiple times, holding her arm tighter.

The deep footsteps were making their way up the stairs, following the three girls. Finding themselves in the dumbwaiter, the monster was only a few steps behind.

The repetitive oh my god was being whispered by Enid, who was behind her, got more prominent when she saw the mess of Évangéline's shoulder. Then it was silent, no growling, no panicking, no movement.

"Ah!" Enid screamed as the monster started roaring loudly, shaking the weak stability of the house. Évangéline would've been screaming, only she wasn't so focused of passing out. "Not your snood!" Enid whisper shouted as Wednesday used her black snood to hold the entrance closed. The monster was getting incredibly angry, the girls know this because of the claw marks made, showing the angry look it had.

The fraying of the rope, holding them up, was echoing in the almost silent dum waiter. Both Enid and Évangéline started screaming as the rope snapped, pushing the girls down multiple floors it seemed like.

Rolling out into a lab sort of place, the confusion was prominent. The thundering footsteps caused fallout underneath the monster, making Enid Évangéline and Wednesday run for the window.

Just as Enid was about to go outside, the door of the basement had been busted open. Enid was safely outside, Évangéline and Wd essay were still there.

"Wednesday! Come on!" Évangéline shouted over the monsters footsteps.

"What are you doing?" Enid pushed the window open, wondering why her two friends hadn't joined her.

"These are the body parts from the monster's victims." Wednesday was too involved, both girls needed to leave.

"Wednesday!" Évangéline looked at the monster, seeing the monster pull over a shelf. "We need to go now!" The pain was less prominent in her arm, as she was more worried about her and Wednesdays life.

Pushing Wednesday out before her, she was almost struck again by the monster. Landing in the floor, she tried to regulate her breathing. The three girls stood up, one wincing, as Wednesday looked at the other two. "You okay?"  Both Évangéline and Enid gave her a are you serious look.

"Since when do you care?" Enid voiced both of the girls, storming off. Following Enid, the pain was slowly coming back. Évangéline wiped the blood in her hand on the front of her jeans. "Wednesday what the hell are you doing?" Enid yelled at the black haired girl retreating to the house.

"We have to go back for Tyler!" She continued running. All Évangéline could think of was that Wednesday said we. We? She was bleeding out of her arm, literally five minutes ago she was struck by the monster that was in there.

They had found Tyler, heavy breathing and in the same condition she felt she was in. "Enid, hold this." Wednesday shoved her torch into Enid's hand, then tending to Tyler.

Slumping against the wall, wincing in immense pain, she just wanted to go back to Nevermore. Opening her eyes, she was met with someone she wouldn't expect to show up; Xavier.

"Where'd you come from?" Wednesday asked Xavier, turning her head away from Tyler.

He handed over his scarf for Tyler. "Here. Take this. "Looking past Tyler he saw Évangéline, pushing her head back and gritting her teeth. "Angel," his eyes softened, seeing his Angel holding her shoulder and was in obvious pain.

Cursing under his breath, as he didn't have anything he could put on her. Looking at her head, he saw the snood. Pulling the purple fabric off of her head, and holding her head up as it lulled to the side, he applied pressure to the wound. "What happened to them?" Xavier was met with silence.

The newly group of five had made their way to Tyler's house; Xavier driving, Enid in the passenger seat with Wednesday in the middle of the slumped Tyler and Évangéline.

In Tyler's living room, Wednesday had found butterfly stitches in the medical kit in his bathroom. Wednesday was patching up Tyler, Xavier with Évangéline. Because of the position of the slash, Évangéline had to remove her jumper and shirt. Her clothes were absolutely ruined. Covered in blood, and long cuts. She was utterly embarrassed.

Every time Évangéline winced Cavier would mutter a quick sorry. Xavier was shortly finished and looked at Évangéline with pity. She was holding her shredded bloody clothes to her chest and had dried tears underneath her eyes. Realising the situation she was in, he pulled off his coat and secured it around her shoulders.

Looking over she gave him a thankful smile and pulled her arms through the holes. "Not to make this about me, but i am having. A full blown panic attack right now." Enid's voice interrupted the moment between the two, eyes focused on something in the room. "We need to get back before Weems realises we've been gone."

Then, the door opened; making the teenagers look at the intruder. Seeing it was the sherif, Évangéline tightened the hold she had on Xavier's coat. "What the hell happened?" He took steps into the room towards Wednesday, "This was you wasn't it?"

"Wait, Dad, please. I'm okay." Tyler stopped his father before he could do some damage.

"Sherif, I understand you're upset, but I think you need to see something." Wednesdays voiced quivered.

Walking towards Enid and Wednesday's room, she heard the end part of the argument between the two. "You didn't have to because that's what friends do!" Enid yelled, "the fact that you don't know that says everything." She picked up her bags. "You want to be alone, Wednesday? Be alone." Enid walked past Évangéline, then she made eye contact with Wednesday.

"Ev," Wednesday's voice was weak.

Seeing Wednesday walk forwards she stopped her, "Just stop, Wednesday." Seeing the look of confusion on the girls face she explained. "You have put not only me, but Enid and Tyler in danger. You didn't even realise I was almost bleeding out. But you noticed Tyler! I was on your side, but you just kick it back in my face. Xavier was there for, what? Five seconds? And realised I was bleeding, or at least I was in pain."

Without sparing Wednesday a second look, she turned around and made her way back to her dorm.

[running-on-narrativium]

Little Shop of Horrors Lyric Starters

(Feel free to change to fit your muse.)

“On the twenty-third day of the month of September, in an early year of a decade not too long before our own, the human race suddenly encountered a deadly threat to its very existence.”

“this terrifying enemy surfaced, as such enemies often do, in the seemingly most innocent and unlikely of places.”

“What a creepy thing to be happening!”

“Stop right where you are. Don't you move a thing.”

“Best believe it something's come to get 'cha.”

“Alarm goes off at seven.”

“Then you go downtown.”

“Uptown you cater to a million jerks.”

“The bosses take your money and they break your hearts.”

“Your morning's tribulation, afternoon's a curse and five o'clock is even worse.”

“Poor! All my life I've always been poor.”

“I keep asking God what I'm for, and he tells me "Gee, I'm not sure.”

“Oh, I started life as an orphan, a child of the street.”

“Someone show me a way to get outta here.”

“Please, won't somebody say I'll get outta here.”

“Someone gimme my shot or I'll rot here.”

“I was walkin' in the wholesale flower district that day I passed by this place where this old man-he sometimes sells me weird and exotic cuttings.”

“He knows, you see, that strange plants are my hobby.”

“Suddenly, and without warning, there was this total eclipse of the sun.”

“And when the light came back this weird plant was just sitting there.”

“You've given me nothing but heartache and hurt.”

“I'm beggin' you sweetly. I'm down on my knees.”

“What do you want from me- Blood?”

“Looks like you're not happy, 'less I open a vein.”

“I know (Name’s) the greatest.”

“I'm dating a semi-sadist.”

“So I've got a black eye and my arm's in a cast.”

“Well, if not, he's got inner beauty.”

“I dream of a place where we could be together at last…”

“I cook like Betty Crocker and I look like Donna Reed.”

“There's plastic on the furniture to keep it neat and clean.”

“A picture out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine.”

“I dream we'll go somewhere that's green.”

“When I was younger, just a bad little kid my mama noticed funny things I did.”

“My boy, I think someday you'll find a way to make your natural tendencies pay.”

“You have a talent for causing things pain!”

“Your temperament's wrong for the priesthood and teaching would suit you still less.

“Son, be a dentist, you'll be a success!”

“Who wants their teeth done by the Marquis de Sade?”

“And though it may cause my patients distress, somewhere in heaven above me, I know that my mama's proud of me.”

“Feed me!”

“Would you like a Cadillac car?”

“Would you like to be a big wheel, dinin' out for every meal?”

“I'm the one that can make it all real!

“You gonna git it!”

“I'm your genie, I'm your friend! I'm your willin' slave...”

“I don't know…I have so... so many strong... reservations…”

“Should I go... and perform... mutilations?”

“If you wanna be profound...If you really gotta justify...take a breath and look around... A lot of folks deserve to die...”

“The guy sure looks like plant food to me!”

“He's so nasty treatin' her rough!”

“You need blood and he's got more than enough!”

“He's got your number now.”

“You've got no place to hide, you've got nowhere to run…”

“I think it's suppertime.”

“Come on, come on, think about all those offers.”

“Ain't no time to turn squeamish.”

“Lift up your head. Wash off your mascara,here, take my Kleenex, wipe that lipstick away.”

“I know things were bad, but now they're okay.”

“Nobody ever treated me kindly.”

“Daddy left early…Mama was poor.”

“I'd meet a man and I'd follow him blindly. He'd snap his fingers, me, I'd say "sure."”

“Tell me this feelin'll last till forever…”

“Please understand that it's still strange and frightening.”

“Suddenly (Name) is standin' beside me.”

“(Name), so finally we meet you!”

“You're gonna host it, you lucky kid, sign.”

“Yes darling, we're sending photographers Thursday, so get the plant ready and wear a clean shirt.”

“They say the meek shall inherit.”

“It's not a question of merit.”

“You’re a meek little guy.”

“You know the meek are gonna get what's comin' to 'em by and by.”

“My future's starting, I've got to let it.”

“I take these offers, that means more killing! Who knew success would come with messy, nasty strings?”

“I sign these contracts, that means I'm willing to keep on doing bloody, awful, evil things.”

“No! No! There's only so far you can bend!”

“No! No! This nightmare must come to an end!”

“It's the only solution. It can't be avoided. The vegetable must be destroyed.”

“But then there's (Name), lovely (Name)…”

“Without my plant, she might not love me anymore.”

“Better wait a minute! Ya better hold the phone!”

“Better mind your manners! Better change your tone!”

“Don't you threaten me, son!”

“We gonna do things my way or we won't do things at all!”

“Ya don't know what you're messin' with. You got no idea.”

“Ya don't know what you're up against, no, no way, no how!”

“I'm just a mean green mother from outer space and I'm bad.”

“You've got me fightin' mad!”

“You think he's the worst, well, you're thinkin' wrong.”

“He got a temper, ha! He ain't got mine.”

“I'm from past the stars and beyond the moon.”

“You can keep The Thing, keep The It,keep The Creature, they don't mean shit.”

“I got the stuff and I think that proves, you better move it out.”

“I'm gonna bust your balls.”

“It's all over, ace.”

“Subsequent to the events you have just witnessed, similar events in cities across America, events which bore a striking resemblance, to the ones you have just seen began occurring.”

“Unsuspecting jerks from Maine to California made the acquaintance of a new breed of flytrap and got sweet-talked into feeding it blood.”

“Thus the plants worked their terrible will...”

“And the plants proceeded to grow and grow, and begin what they came here to do. Which was essentially to eat Cleveland and Des Moines and Peoria and New York… and this theater!”

“They may offer you fortune and fame, love and money and instant acclaim. But whatever they offer you, don't feed the plants!”

“Look out! Here comes (Name)!”

“Here I come for you!”

“Hold your hat and hang on to your soul!”

“Something's coming to eat the world whole!”

“If we fight it we've still got a chance!”

[frankieunscripted]

ATLiens by Outkast (1996)

Let's talk OutKast! The duo came to life in 1992 in Atlanta, Georgia, which explains the capitalization of ATL in the album title. I read somewhere that the reason OutKast called it ATLiens is because the duo felt out of place in the rap industry back in the 90s, because it was all about the West Side vs. the East Coast and no one was really paying attention to anything /-place else in regards to hiphop/rap culture. Almost as if you were an Extraterrestial if you weren't part of the biggest rap beef ever. (Source: trust me, I heard that, idk.)

And when I say duo, I'm of course referring to the rappers Big Boi and André 3000, aka André 3k or André 3 Stacks. They get a lot of credit for influencing the history of hiphop as a whole (abso-fucking-lutely) and if you don't know anything about OutKast, you'll most likely still be familiar with at least one of their songs, because as all good shit should be, they were inescapable if you had ears in the 2000s. Four of their most popular tracks (according to Spotify) are: Hey Ya!, Ms. Jackson, So Fresh So Clean and The Way You Move.

Now onto the album itself. Just four years after founding the rap duo, they released ATLiens, which was their second album after 1994's Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik (Yes, this is the actual debut album title and it's hilarious). It went Platinum and Gold, which is in my opinion very well deserved. If you're into today's hiphop and aren't familiar with old stuff like this, please indulge. It's not like you have to bend over for Tupac, but get some culture in your playlist and you might find a few cool songs and the samples, inspirations and references to a lot of songs you're into already.

You May Die (Intro): A soft, calming piano intro with soulful vocals that really makes you wanna sit down and listen to this project - and embrace the experience of doing so.

Two Dope Boyz (In A Cadillac): "Greetings earthling!" This is what I expect of Old School hiphop! Nice rhymes, catchy flows and the melody is really chill.

ATLiens: my favorite bassline of all time (because it's fairly easy to learn for someone who has no fucking experience like me). The hook is so fucking catchy, it makes you wanna bump your head to it. "Softly, as if I play piano in the dark" and then you realize they took the drums out for this short section - it's little stuff like this that makes this production so good!

Wheelz of Steel: full of 90s-vinyl-scratching and I love it. OutKast manages to put out chill music even though they're totally murdering the mic - I respect that.

Jazzy Belle: When that drum hits in the beginning - woah. The soft vocals are amazing, I always find myself singing or atleast humming along. I don't know if "somber" is the right word, but if you were to take "somber" and abstract all negative meaning from it, then yeah, I feel like that would be it. It's a lights-out song (not in the sexy way) but not dark, it's intimate, but in a different way. And the way it fades out is just great.

Elevators (Me & You): I just love the way the percussions are the first thing you hear on this song. "One for the money, yessir. Two for the show." Back at it again with a bassline I mastered after months of sore fingertips. "If you don't move your feet, then I don't eat, so we like neck to neck." I don't know why this line always stood out to me, but I find it a very interesting, simple and blunt way to talk about upcoming artistry.

Ova Da Wudz: I know that my way of describing music is stupid and doesn't make a lot of sense to anyone who doesn't live in my head, but from all of ATLiens, I'd call this song the greasiest-smoothest. The bassline, the main melody (is it a synth? I don't know, I've never been to an OutKast studio session), it's slick, oily, you know? The squeaky sound effects in the end solidify this for me, I don't know. "It's some hoooes in this house!" - was that WAP's inspiration?

Babylon: You hear this male choir and you know shit's about to get deep. Turn the lights out again. "Though we're here, someday we will be gone". 3k's second verse isn't as deep as you'd expect it when you hear the choir for the first time, but then he hits you with: "They call it horny because it's devilish" - he's got a point tho. The evilization of sex is a pretty deep topic, I wish they'd expand on that more. And then these soulful back vocals that start as the chorus progresses and grows throughout the song: *chefs kiss*

Wailin: Groovy ass shit! Then again, soulful Cee-Lo vocals in the interlude, this album knows when and where to use vocals.

Mainstream: The splash catches you off guard and is a harsh blend between the two songs. I also have to mention that I'm a huge sucker for when songs have little sound effects like these that fit the theme - mainstream, water, get it?! "Floatin face down in the mainstream." It's a nice metaphor that ties into the same theme as the "neck to neck" line from before.

Decatur Psalm: The chorus has a nice choir again, y'all already know the deal by now.

Millenium: This song's chorus is so catchy that without knowing the title or remembering what the major theme of it even was, I immediately know exactly what to hum along as soon as the beat hits in the beginning. I personally think the catchy production like this is one of the reasons people gain so much inspiration from OutKast.

E.T. (Extraterrestial): This is Old School hiphop at its finest - but you'll know it sounds entirely different compared to DMX or Pac, who're typical for old school shit. Genres, themes, vibes and stuff. I will admit, the song gets somewhat repetitive after a while, but it's only about three minutes long, so they definitely knew better than to drag the song to six minutes like other artists do.

13th Floor/Growing Old: I'm often a sucker for the "speech in the beginning"-trope in music (just wait till I start rambling about how underrated I think BLOOD. from Kendrick Lamar's DAMN. is as an opener) and I'm pretty sure this song is partially at fault for this. A soft piano to let the album fade out. What a great closer. It also loops very well back into the intro, not necessarily because it blends in perfectly, but because the vibes and musical themes/tropes (gospel-esque in particular) are similar.

Bonus! Elevators (Me & You) ONP 86 Mix: Cue Busta Rhymes' "Remix!"-chant. It's a nice one, it's more chill than the actual song but it's not so far from it. Some may say it's not worth listening to it because of the changes are only minimal, but honestly, I'd rather have a smooth, similar remix than an abomination that makes my ears bleed because someone butchered a great song I like.

With a runtime of almost an hour, I'd consider this album a healthy meal. It's definitely something you want to sit down and listen to consciously. The album itself runs like a river - every song fits the overarching musical themes and motives (funky basslines, smooth melodies, chill vibes overall, but great bars and memorable flows). I'm all for songs blending into each other smoothly, which this album doesn't do a lot. Here, songs will rather fade out softly and the next one will catch your gaze with some new sound, be it drums or a water splash. The album feels very spiritual without being particularly about religion or beliefs - might be all the gospel elements. Why am I choosing to talk about this album? I don't know, I just really like it.

[headfullofpresley]

Try it out

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 2,5K

Warning(s): SMUT!!!, pure filth I tell you, very detailed oral (m. receiving), kissing after oral, smoking, cursing, (attempt to) swallow, my bad sense of humor, reader is not shy, 1950s Elvis (yes, this is a warning bc he makes me sin), handjob (f. receiving).

Author’s note: Lord have mercy on my soul - I wrote this literally an hour ago. It’s 4 am now, rip. So keep that in mind when you read this, because it’s shit, but it definitely had me hot and bothered thinking ‘bout it. Didn’t really know how to end this, so the ending is a little... meh. n e ways, hope you’ll enjoy this piece of filth nonetheless!

You sat patiently on the edge of your bed, eyes glued on the clock that hung above your dresser ─ even in the weak dim of your bedside lamp, you were still able to make out the movement of the hour hand on the clock.

One minute before it would strike 1 o’clock and one minute before you’d see the headlights of your boyfriends’ car flashing through your bedroom window.

Excitement grew inside of you more and more and you were literally counting down the seconds. Even though you had only been dating Elvis for a few weeks, this had become one of your usual routines. Your parents weren’t very fond of their only daughter dating some greaser with his head up in the clouds, meanwhile your older brother was allowed to go out whenever he wanted and date who ever he wanted. Granted, he was the straight A student and you’d rather spend your time skipping classes to go shopping with your girlfriends or do things to your boyfriend that would simply be considered nothing but a sin by your parents.

Like clock work, lights from across the street started flashing on and off.

Four times.

You knew it was him right away and jumped up from your bed, tiptoeing around to make sure the pillows underneath your blankets were situated in the right way. You even bought a wig at the mall for this little routine you and your boyfriend had grown accustomed to. It matched your hair color perfectly and if your parents suspected anything, they had never confronted you with it.

You turned off your light, letting Elvis know you were still awake and on your way. Luckily, the house you lived in was only one story, but you still hated having to make the small climb out of the window. Your brothers’ room was right next to yours and it wouldn’t be the first time he caught you ─ he wasn’t a deep sleeper like your parents were. He always kept his mouth shut though, because you had enough dirt on him to spill, things that he did not want your parents knowing.

Your let yourself land on the grass as quietly as possible, leaving your window slightly cracked open so you wouldn’t lock yourself out in the middle of the night like an idiot. Skilfully, you manoeuvred your way through the front yard, avoiding the flowers your mother had worked so hard on to let grow.

‘‘You wanna eat somethin’ first?’’ he asked, nodding to the diner up the road that you two would pass every time you’d sneak off to your own special spot. You hummed softly in thought, but shook your head, pulling your legs up the seat. ‘‘No, I’m fine. Maybe after,’’ you told him and as you looked at each other, you shared a knowing grin.  

‘‘There she is,’’ your boyfriend grinned, equally as excited as you, as you opened the door of the passengers’ side of his pink Cadillac.

You shushed him with a laugh, climbing in the car and very softly closing the door once you were seated, making sure you wouldn’t wake any of your nosy neighbors up. Once the door was closed and the world was shut out, you turned to your boyfriend and smiled brightly.

‘‘Hi handsome,’’ you greeted him, leaning over to him to plant a kiss on his soft plumb lips. You pulled back quicker than he liked, laughing softly at him as he wanted to chase your lips for some more sugar.

‘‘E, not here! Drive,’’ you told him with a giggle and he slipped his hand between your thighs, his fingertips burning on your bare legs.

‘‘Why not, baby? Could be hot,’’ he said jokingly, wiggling his eyebrows a little as he leaned in to you. Before his hand could reach the bottom of the shorts you were wearing and his lips could reach yours, you swatted his hand away with a laugh and pushed him back in his seat.

He rolled his eyes playfully, laughing as he put his left hand back on the wheel, shifting gears as he drove away from your house. Once the car had left your street, he pushed his foot down on the gas pedal and you reached your hand out to his head, fingers running through his freshly dyed locks.

He looked at you for a second, lips rising into a loving smile as he leaned into your touch a little bit.

Your heart swelled at the sight, breathing out a soft content sigh. Though his eyes were back on the road, the smile never left his face and he took your hand out of his hair, bringing it to his lips instead. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach when he placed soft kisses on your knuckles, keeping your hand against his lips as he drove. You wished you could take a picture of him in this moment and carry it with you everywhere you’d go.

Elvis pulled up to the small parking lot at Martyrs Park, a waterfront park with a great view of the Mississippi River and the Harahan bridge. It was beautiful and the place held great memories for you, but right now, your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Once Elvis killed the engine of the Cadillac, you were all over each other. You had seen him two days ago and talked to him for over thirty minutes on the phone this morning, but to you it felt like it had been days.

Weeks even.

You spend all your free time thinking about him when he wasn’t in your presence, and he wasn’t any better. He could barely focus on work anymore or talk about anything other than you.

Whenever he sang, he sang about you. It was driving everyone around him crazy, but he just couldn’t get himself to give a damn.

His hands were all over you and yours were all over him, tugging at his hair and sliding down his neck and chest. The kiss you shared was heated and a bit sloppy, feeding each other small moans and grunts. You arched further into him as you felt his hands squeeze your breasts eagerly, though you could tell he was impatient as they didn’t stay there very long, moving to your shorts instead.

His fingertips were quick to flick open the few buttons, but before he could slip his hand in between your skin and the fabric, you grabbed his wrist. Breaking the kiss, you looked at him and smiled sweetly, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

‘‘I wanna go first,’’ you told him, pushing him back in his seat before your hands were already undoing his pants.

He looked at you with wide eyes and you just smiled, admiring how kissed his lips looked, slightly stained with your soft pink lipstick.

‘‘Baby, you don’t have to.. Let me go fir-’’ his words were cut off as you slipped your hand in his underwear, not wasting any time as you wrapped your small hand around his cock. He gasped softly and lifted his hips off of the seat a little, sliding his pants and underwear further down.

You looked down at his cock in your hand, biting your lip at the sight of some pre cum dripping down shaft. You couldn’t help but smile softly at the way your manicured nails looked so pretty in their current position.

Moving your hand up, you caressed your thumb over the tip to spread some of that pre cum around and Elvis moaned softly, his eyes watching you the entire time.

You remembered how shy you had been doing this the first time with him, but he was always so sweet and good to you, that you were used to his curious eyes by now. You liked when he was watching you and making those pretty little sounds, letting you know you were making him feel good.

You leaned in closer to his face and captured his lips with your own, deepening the kiss as soon as you felt his tongue hot against yours. Your hand picked up speed a little, your nails softly caressing his balls every time your hand came down. His moans were growing steadily and you were swallowing every single one of them, moving to sit on your knees in the seat to make for a better position for what you were planning to do.

Pulling back from the kiss once more, he sunk his teeth into his lowerlip and looked at you with droopy eyes, making your walls tighten around nothing pathetically.

God, he was so gorgeous.

You flashed him a sweet smile before you leaned down, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his cock. You ignored the slightly salty taste of his pre cum on your lips and looked up at him, wanting to see his reaction when your wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked on it softly. He moved his hands to your hair to create a makeshift ponytail to keep your hair out of your face, before he leaned his other arm on the side of the door again. You sank down further, taking him in even deeper.

When he let out a deep mixture of a moan and grunt and threw his head back, it only motivated you to continue.

You closed your eyes, concetrating as you took him in completely, your throat clenching a little as you could feel his tip against the back of your throat. You tried not to gag, even though you doubted he’d mind. Your movements were slow as you deep throated him a few seconds and even though you were proud of yourself for making him feel good doing so, it wasn’t something you could keep up with for long.

Bringing your head back up, you flattened your tongue against the shaft before swirling it around the tip. You wrapped your hand around him again and took him back in your mouth, speeding up your actions a bit more as you now had your hand to help you with the deed.

‘‘Yes, yes.. fuck, Y/N,’’ he looked down at you again, his fingers coming to a halt as his cock twitched in your hand and he didn’t have to say anything  for you to know what was about to come. Your hand picked up speed a little and you enjoyed the sight of the muscles in his lower abdomen tightening, making you move back up and take him back in your mouth. ‘‘Baby, n-no, I’m.. I’m gonna-’’

‘‘Jesus.. C-Christ,’’ he breathed out as he looked back down at you again, letting go of your hair to move his hand down your shoulder blades and back and into your shorts. He raised a surprised eyebrow as he noticed you weren’t wearing any underwear and you looked up at him, smiling around him in response.

‘‘Naughty girl,’’ he grinned playfully, shooting you a quick wink before his hand dipped down further in between your legs.

When he felt how wet you already were for him, he slipped in a finger and you moaned around his cock. The vibrations of your moan made him gasp and he looked down at you, bucking his hips up a little. ‘‘Do that again, baby, please,’’ he nearly begged, his finger sinking into you deeper and it automatically caused you to let out another moan around him.

He cursed loudly and it didn’t take you two long to match each others’ rhythm. He had added another finger and despite not having much room to move in the tightness of your shorts, he wasn’t going easy on you. His fingers moved fast and skilled and you had to take him out of your mouth sometimes to breathe, all your senses going in over drive. You jerked him off as you dipped your head lower, sucking on his balls the way you knew he liked. The groan that left his mouth was almost animalistic and you ignored the way his thumb was absentmindedly pressing against your other hole as his fingers were buried inside of you, knowing it wasn’t intentional. Neither was it uncomfortable.

Cum. Right into your mouth.

It was the first time ─ usually when you’d give him head, he would cum in either your or his own hand. The taste was completely foreign to you and honestly, you were afraid to swallow it.

As you looked up at him, he noticed you still had it in your mouth and laughed loudly as he opened the door on his side. You stuck your head out of the car, spitting out his cum.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you crawled back into your seat once his hand was removed out of your shorts and looked at him. The two of you bursted out laughing and you hid your mouth behind your hand.

‘‘It was still hot, baby,’’ he assured you with a chuckle, leaning toward you to kiss your cheek. ‘‘But you didn’t have to do that. I don’t want you doin’ anything that makes you uncomfortable,’’ he said as he quickly closed the car door again, smiling at you.

You ran a hand through your hair and shrugged a little, laughing. ‘‘It wasn’t uncomfortable, just wanted to try it out,’’ you told him honestly and he pulled up his underwear and pants, making himself somewhat decent again.

‘‘Let me try something,’’ he said with a grin on his face, leaning over to your side to kiss you. You were hesitant for a second, not knowing whether he would be comfortable with kissing you after what you had just done, but it was him who was parting his lips first, letting his tongue dip in. You happily granted him access and deepened the kiss, giggling softly against his lips.

You gasped as you looked at him with wide eyes and he laughed at your reaction, blowing out the smoke of the cigarette he just took a puff from. ‘‘I hate you,’’ you laughed and he held out the cigarette in front of your lips, letting you take a drag. ‘‘Hate you more,’’ he grinned, kissing your cheek playfully a few times.

‘‘Not bad,’’ he mumbled, licking his lips as if he was doing a goddamn a wine tasting. You slapped his chest, scrunching up your nose in feigned disgust. ‘‘Don’t be gross,’’ you laughed, shaking your head a little at his tantics. He laughed along and you pulled back from him, opening the glove compartment to take out the pack of Marlboros you knew he hid in there.

‘‘Smoking is bad for you, ya know,’’ you commented, putting a cigarette between your lips. He took his lighter out of his back pocket and lit your cigarette, stealing it from between your lips. ‘‘So is trying to swallow my future children and then spitting them out in Martyr Park,’’

You were praying that it would rain tonight ─ washing away the sin you spat out on the parking lot.

[glittersandsourcherries]

Orange looks good on you | Fezco x Reader

Summary: You visit Fez in prison for the first time

Pairing: Fezco x Reader

Word count: 0.7k

Keep sending requests!!

-

''O'Neil Fezco. Inmate number 227.''

You glanced down at the visitor badge clipped onto your shirt, wishing you never had to put one in the first place.

The heavy metal door slid open before you, allowing you to walk into the visiting room. It was bare, except for a long table with plexi-glass in the middle lined with chairs on both sides. The table was divided into small cubicles for 'privacy' although everyone knew there was no such thing as privacy in prison.

A guard stood in the room on the visitors side, supervising. 

You sat down at one of the empty seats and waited. You kept your eyes down, uncomfortable among all these inmates and scared to accidentally look at someone wrong or even make eye contact. 

There was a loud buzzing noise, followed be the sound of a heavy door opening. You looked up when a shadow stood before you. To your surprise, he wearing a grey sweatsuit instead of the orange jumpsuit you see on TV or in movies. Seeing the handcuffs on his wrists reminded you of when he got sentenced a month ago.

You blinked the tears from your eyes. Fuck. You promised yourself you wouldn't cry.

The guard uncuffed Fez and he sat down, taking the black phone on his right. ''Told you not to come.''

To anyone, he’d looked the same, but you noticed his beard wasn’t as trimmed as it usually was and his blue eyes were dull. 

''You should know that I never listen.''

Fez's lips curled at the corner, only to go back into a thin line. ''It's not that I don't wanna see you. It's just not where you should be spendin' your Saturday at- no, today's Thursday. Right? Fuck. I've been inside for a month and I'm mixing the days already...'' He he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

You smiled weakly. ''It's okay.'' 

There was an awkward pause and Fez simply stared at you. 

''I don't really know what to say. I've been looking forward to this day for so long, but now that I'm here my mind is completely blank.''

You didn't want to waste time with the casual and pointless 'how are you's. Fez was in prison, confined to a small room, stuck between four walls for the next two years. How well could he be feeling? 

''It's okay. I can sit here and look at you for the whole hour.''

Honestly, you felt the same. Just looking at Fez brought happiness to your heart.

Being away from him was harder than you thought. You missed him so much. You missed his touch, his kisses...the sex. But you also missed the most mundane things like bickering about what movie you'd watch, or which pizza toppings to get. Him calling you out for leaving water on the bathroom floor after your shower or for stealing his hoodie.

''Oh! I got my driver's license last week. I drove here by myself,'' you announced with a grin. ''I'd show you, but they took all my stuff at the front.''

''Congrats, baby.'' Fez smiled, proud of his girl.

''Now, I can drive your car,'' you said, knowing you'd get a reaction from him.

''Hell fucking no.'' His face was straight and serious. ''I love you and shit, but I ain't lettin' you drive my car again.''

''The trashcans weren't there when I looked in the rearview mirror.''

Fez scoffed. ''You didn’t even look in the mirrors.''

With a giddy smile on your face, you had sat in the driver seat, feeling very lucky that Fez was letting you take the wheel of his cadillac. Not many people were allowed to drive his car, which was a hand-me-down from his grandma. It had taken a lot of convincing to let him hand you the keys, but his bargained confidence turned into regret when you backed out of the driveway and knocked over the trash cans, scratching the back of the car.

''When you get out, I’ll show you how better of a driver I am now.''

That won’t be for a long time, Fez wanted to say, but shut his mouth.You didn’t need a reminder that he’d be spending the next two years being bars. 

[mypoisonedvine]

The Wrong Idea (part 2) | Lee Bodecker x Reader

(read part 1 here)

summary: your relationship with your stepfather only becomes more tense, and both of you know you can’t avoid him forever.

word count: nearly 5.8k

warnings: smut (heavy dubcon/noncon, and a few consensual encounters), stepcest, pain kink, daddy kink, groping, semi-public sex, a bit of pregnancy/breeding kink (just through dialogue), stockholm syndrome/sympathy for the abuser, grooming (hence the thing before this one), a bit of violence including use of a gun, a bit of housewife kink?

Jimmy O’Doyle was sweet, and handsome; tall, and strong, and with this gorgeous blonde hair that he either styled relentlessly or just somehow dried perfect on its own.  Sure, his nose was a little big, but you found it endearing, especially when his smile was even bigger. 

Most of the girls in Knockemstiff had a crush on Jimmy— maybe it was his looks, maybe it was the fact that he drove one of the nicer cars in town— but he was either oblivious or uninterested.  He seemed to keep to himself most of the time, though he'd always be polite and carry conversation if you approached him.

Well, not you.  You never approached him.  It made you a little too nervous.

Therefore, you had no plan when he approached you after church one Sunday.  You didn't even realize he knew your name, until he used it to get your attention with a tap on your shoulder.

"Oh, hey Jimmy," you mumbled back, looking up at him and chewing your lip.

"I like your dress," he informed you with a tilted smile.  You looked down at it— yellow, with a white gingham on the skirt— and felt your face getting a little warm.

"Oh, this?  Thanks, um, it was a gift from— from my stepdad."

"Oh, was it your birthday?"

You shook your head.  "Not for a few more months, he just bought me something to be nice."

Jimmy nodded, and there was an uncomfortable silence before you suddenly blurted out: "I like your tie!"

"Thanks!” he beamed.  “I got it when I went to—”

"Time to go, sweetie," your mother interrupted to inform you, motioning to the parking lot where Sheriff Bodecker was opening the driver's side door of his patrol car.  (Yes, he drove the three of you to church in the fucking patrol car.)

"Just a minute, mama," you smiled back.  “What were you gonna say?” you asked Jimmy.

“Uh, I was just gonna ask you somethin’...”

“Well, what is it?”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking away for a moment.  “Just if maybe you wanted to, uh, go for a drive sometime or somethin’...”

“A drive?  Yeah, sure,” you smiled, feeling a giddy nervousness bloom in your stomach.  “I’d like that.”

“Yeah, me too,” he nodded.  “I’ll pick you up tonight?  At 7?”

You pictured Jimmy appearing at the door with your mother and Lee sitting in the living room.  “Um, no, I’ll meet you somewhere.  At the corner of Bailey and Hillside?”

“All right,” he smiled.

“I’ll be the one in a yellow dress,” you winked.

“I’ll be the one in the blue Cadillac,” he grinned.

Your mother called to you again and you waved goodbye to Jimmy, feeling your cheeks warm as he waved back.  

“What was that all about?” she asked as you got into the back seat.

“Oh, he was just asking if I’d wanna join the choir,” you lied quickly.  

“Well I hope you said no!  I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself,” she smiled.

“Of course, mama,” you nodded, shooting Lee a glance that said ‘do you see how she is?’

He looked back just for a second before starting the car, and you knew he understood better than most.

//

You had a plan to tell your mother and stepfather that you were going to meet some friends for dinner, but they never even asked where you were going.  Certainly made it easier to slip out and begin your walk to the corner where you planned to meet your date.  

You had your yellow dress on like you said you would, but you didn't wear the white cardigan that you had on over it at church that morning.  It was a warm night anyhow, but you hoped it would be a little more mature without it.  Not revealing or anything, but a little more daring.

Hopping into Jimmy’s passenger seat made you feel like the most special girl in the world, though you knew it wasn’t actually that big of a deal.  You let yourself get excited anyway.  

The conversation was pleasant, if nerve-wracking.  At first, you kind of hoped some other girls in town would see you in his car and get jealous, but as you two got to talking and you appreciated the scenic drive, it wasn’t so important to you anymore.  Jimmy asked where you wanted to go.  You just told him to go anywhere.  You weren’t exactly offended when he decided to take you to the closest thing Knockemstiff had to a ‘makeout point’: it was just a nice park that had a lot of open space and a cute little creek down the middle.  Knowing what this implied, you felt your face warm up slightly.

“Is it okay if we just sit in here and talk for a bit?” Jimmy asked gently.  “I rather like getting to know you.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you nodded, “I like talking to you, too.”

It went on like that for a while, talking about all sorts of things that were mostly unimportant.  Jimmy went on a bit of a ramble about baseball, which you normally found terminally boring; it was interesting when he talked about it with so much passion, though.  And he returned the favor by listening to you talk about politics which was probably just as boring to him.  

“I’ve never known a girl who knew so much about the world,” he said, seeming impressed.

“I don’t think I know that much,” you shook your head, “I just listen to the radio.”

“I listen to the radio, too, but it must not be the same station as you,” he laughed.

An awkward, but not necessarily uncomfortable, silence fell over the car.  You wanted to make a move, but you didn’t know how.

“Maybe we could turn on the radio now,” you suggested.

“All right,” he jumped up, leaning forward and turning his car radio on.

And dear, I wonder if you find love an optical illusion, too? 

“Oh, I love this song,” you admitted.  “I don’t have a record player, but I think if I did I’d only have Billie Holiday records.”

“You should come over sometime, I have a lot of records,” Jimmy offered.

“Does that mean we’ll have a second date?” you asked hopefully.

“Does that mean we’re having a first date, right now?” he returned.

“I was sort of hoping so,” you smiled nervously.

“So was I,” he agreed.

Are the stars out tonight?  I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright…

Your mind wandered as you feared that somehow, Jimmy would see right through you— see who you really were.  And if he did that, he’d never want you.  You knew that.  You figured Sheriff Bodecker would go out of his way to make sure you knew that, if he ever found out this was going on.  But he wasn’t going to find out, you decided, because he had no way of knowing and you were grown anyhow.  

‘cause I only have eyes for you…

When you snapped out of your thoughts, you realized Jimmy was leaning in towards you; and though you felt oddly guilty for no good reason at all, you closed the gap and kissed him.

It was gentle and sweet, nothing like the kisses you were used to.  Some materialistic, status-conscious part of you (probably the part that was related to your mother) was over the moon to be kissing the most popular young man in the whole town.  Most of you, though, was just happy to be kissing a boy that you liked, and that liked you back.

And secretly, a very teeny tiny part of you was thinking of someone else.

“You are so beautiful,” Jimmy whispered into the kiss.

“Really?  You think so?” you whispered back, smiling.

“Everybody does,” he answered as if it were obvious.  

You kissed him deeper, the smallest moan slipping out as his hands moved over your waist.  You gasped a bit when his hands moved to grab your breasts.

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly.

You nodded and kissed him again, whimpering softly as his hands massaged you through your dress.

Arousal was starting to awaken between your legs, and you felt your hips pushing down against the seat a little harder, seeking stimulation.  Gingerly, your hand started to slide up his leg, and you both gasped when you felt his erection underneath the corduroy.

He quickly took his hands off you to open up his trousers, pulling his cock out and sighing a bit when your hand wrapped around it.

You could tell it wasn’t as big as the Sheriff’s— not as long or as thick— but it still felt good in your hand, and Jimmy still looked beautiful with that look of pleasure and shock on his face.

“Damn, you’re…” Jimmy moaned, almost in disbelief, as you started to stroke him.  “You’re incredible.”

“Touch me again,” you pleaded gently, biting your lip when he reached up to pull the top of your dress down a bit— just enough to expose your tits and grab them again.

You got lost in the moment, with how good his hands felt on you, and how nice it was to kiss him, and how much you wanted him to come all over your hand.  So lost, in fact, that neither of you noticed a car had pulled up behind his until there was a tap at your window.

It was the Sheriff, shining a flashlight into the car.

“Shit!” Jimmy gasped, shoving you away and tucking himself back into his trousers while you pulled up your dress to cover yourself and turned off the radio.  Your stomach sank and you thought you could probably vomit right then and there.  

“Roll down the window, please,” Lee requested, and you awkwardly cranked the handle until it was halfway down.

“I’m sorry, Sheriff, it was—” Jimmy began to explain.

“What do you want?” you interrupted, glaring at Lee.

“Just wanna make sure you’re both alright,” he answered sternly.  “It’s gettin’ pretty late.”

“It’s not even ten,” you announced with crossed arms, “and you aren’t supposed to be workin’ tonight.”

Jimmy stared at you with wide eyes, somewhere between impressed and terrified that you were standing up to the Sheriff.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle, ma’am,” Lee snarled.  You sighed and rolled up the window again; Lee stepped out of the way so you could open your door as you got out.  “You, stay in the car,” he instructed Jimmy, who nodded fearfully.

The second you shut the door, Lee was pressing you back into the side of the car and staring you down.  You were terrified of him, actually, but you refused to show it.

You whispered to him harshly, hoping Jimmy wouldn’t hear your exchange.  “Go.  Away.” 

Lee chuckled, in an angry sort of way.  “Givin’ some schoolboy a tug in his car, huh?  In the dress I bought you?  Thought you were better than that.”

“It’s none of your business,” you asserted.

“Everything that happens in this town is my business,” he replied, “and everything that happens to you is my problem.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t a jealous creep who followed me around,” you hissed.

Jimmy stepped out of the car, and both of you turned to look back at him.

“Everything alright?” he asked, and you weren’t sure if he was asking you or Lee.

“Can’t say that it is,” the Sheriff shook his head.  “Way I see it, this is public indecency for the both of you.”

“Sir, we didn’t mean to—”

“I’ll let you off with a warning,” Lee told Jimmy with a disappointed frown.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” you mumbled.

“Not you,” he turned back to you with a sigh.  “I'm afraid I'll have to detain you.  Can't give you special treatment just cause you're family.”

“What?!” you squawked.

“You heard me, girl.  Hands behind your back."

“You can’t be serious,” Jimmy protested. 

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in your vehicle?” Lee remembered angrily, and Jimmy hesitated but obeyed.

As he cuffed your wrists, his hand drifted downward, cupping your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

"Lee, don't…" you pleaded softly, "not here."

"Not here?” he whispered against your ear, making you shiver.  “Then where, princess?  You're never at home anymore.  When am I s'posed to make my girl feel good, huh?  When are you gonna take care of me?"

"You can take care of yourself," you grimaced.

"Oh, I do.  After your ma falls asleep," he chuckled.  "I get my cock off all by myself, thinking about you and your tight fuckin' hole."

You whimpered as he started to gather your skirt, rubbing his hands on your legs underneath.

"And what's this with you calling me Lee?  You know it's Sheriff in public, and Daddy at home."

“I’m sorry, Sheriff, I was just—”

“Come on, let’s get you to the car,” Lee grumbled as he roughly guided you to his patrol car, all but tossing you into the back.  

“Where are you gonna take her?” Jimmy asked as he leaned out of his window, not seeming to have noticed the way Lee was touching you but still obviously uncomfortable.

“Home,” was all Lee replied as he got in the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.

Of course, as he started to drive, you realized that was a lie.  He drove down winding roads in tense silence, until he pulled into a clearing in the woods and turned off the engine.

“You fucked up real big tonight,” he informed you as he turned back to look at you through the caged partition.

You just looked at your skirt, that damned yellow and white gingham that had gotten you into this mess.  

“Get out, get in front of the car, and bend over the hood.”

He leaned back to open the door for you from the inside, and you shivered from the sudden blast of cool night air.  Lee watched you through the windshield with a dark glare as you walked around the car and laid yourself down over the hood.  The metal was cold; cold enough to seep through your clothes and make you shiver.  The whole world looked sideways when you saw it from this angle, but truthfully, your whole world felt completely upside down. You just waited like that for a moment— and it was the best he’d ever done to make you feel worthless, having you wait patiently for him to do what he was about to do to you.

Eventually, he stepped out with a gruff instruction not to move.  When his form was no longer visible in your peripheral vision, you felt him pressed up against the back of your legs as your skirt started to slide up.

“I try to be nice to ya,” he grunted, “treat you right, buy you things.  And what does it get me, huh?”

You didn’t say anything, because you were sure anything you would say would just make it worse.  With your skirt flipped up completely now, you could feel the cold autumn breeze on your legs as he pulled your panties to the side.

“I’m startin’ to think that kindness doesn’t go very far with you.  You like it best when I’m mean, dontcha?”

His belt made that terrible clinking sound as he opened it, and you felt his cock rubbing through your folds.

“Normally I would get you wetter first, but I think this’ll just have to do tonight.”

He pushed forward and it fucking burned.  You cried out, breathing through your teeth as you tried to bear the pain.  Behind your back, your nails dug into your palm.

He didn’t slow down at all, though, and fucked you faster and harder in spite of the sting.  Determined to get a reaction, he slapped your ass, too.

“Daddy!” you sobbed.  “It hurts!”

“You could’ve avoided it,” he yelled angrily.  “It didn’t have to be like this, but you wanted to act like a fuckin’ whore, and now you’re gettin’ treated like one.”

“I’m sorry!” you cried, wet tears warming the cold metal of the car beneath you. “I’m so sorry, daddy!”

Lee grabbed your hips tighter, surely enough to bruise.  Disturbingly, you felt yourself getting more aroused— it made it less painful physically, but so much more painful mentally.

“Told ya you like it rough,” he laughed.  “You’re already clenchin’ on me, I can tell you’re gonna come.”

You tried to shake your head, but he was right.  He reached up and pulled your hair roughly, making you yelp.  Even that made a pleasant tingle run down your spine, despite the fact that it hurt so much.

“You’re so fuckin’ close, princess,” he groaned, leaning down and watching your face closely, “you’re gonna come for your daddy, right fuckin’ now.”

You heard a twig snap before you knew what it was.  "What the fuck?!" another voice called out.

It was Jimmy, standing off just a few feet away in disbelief.  You closed your eyes, unable and unwilling to look at him in this moment.  Lee just sighed as he slipped out of you, stuffing his cock back into the pants of his uniform and zipping back up.  "You didn't see anything, kid."

"You… you're…” Jimmy stammered, “that's your stepdaughter!  The hell is wrong with you?"

"I said," Lee growled as he crossed the distance between him and Jimmy, pulling his gun from its holster and holding it under the boy’s neck, "ya didn't see nothin'."

"Don't hurt him, Lee, please!" you sobbed.

"Hey!" Lee yelped, turning back to look at you.  "You, shut up!"

"Don't talk to her like that!" Jimmy protested.  Lee responded with a swift backhanded slap, hitting Jimmy with his gun in the process.  

"You'd better learn how to respect authority, son, and real damn soon before somebody hands your ass to ya.  I'm not doin' nothing wrong with her, I'll have you know.  She's of age, and I'm not forcin' her to do it.  She likes it,” Lee bragged, “begs me for it, day and night.  Frankly, I can barely keep up with her.  Now, get on and mind your business, and this won't be any trouble for you."

Jimmy hesitated a little, glancing over at you for a moment.  “You’re a sick bastard, Sheriff,” he sighed as he shook his head.

Lee just grinned, almost like he was proud of the title.  "Tell me somethin', Timmy—"

"It's Jimmy."

"Yeah, whatever— you kissed her, didn’t ya?"

"Yes."

Lee laughed, grabbing the boy on the shoulder as if they were old chums or something.  "Oh, kid, if only you knew where that mouth had been."

Jimmy looked disgusted as he glanced at you and then to the ground, before turning away to storm off into the woods.  Lee seemed so proud of himself as he walked back to you, pushing you down since you’d started to lean up off the car.

"Now, where were we?" he purred.

"I hate you," you sobbed, "I hate you!"

"Oh yeah, that's right— you were about to come all over my fuckin’ cock."

He quickly got himself back out and shoved into you again, hard and brutal thrusts slamming your hips forward painfully.  

"I'd better not catch you with another stupid fuckin’ boy," he growled.  "You don't know how mean I can be, little girl.  You don't know everything I could do to them… you don't know everything I could do to you."

You tried your best to apologise again but the strength of your sobs made you nearly unintelligible.  Worse, you were so close to coming that you were starting to see stars.

"You're mine now, ya hear?" he moaned against your ear.  "Nobody else in this town is gonna touch you, or they'll have to answer to me.  Don't even want 'em lookin' atcha."

Your orgasm made your legs feel like jelly, your whole body going limp as all the energy to fight left you.  He kept fucking you strong and fast, overstimulating the most sensitive places inside you.  Your eyes rolled back in your head, your thoughts became fuzzy and distant, and all you could feel was overwhelming pleasure buzzing under your skin.

"Yours," you moaned weakly, "just yours, daddy…"

"Fuck, gonna come," he warned you, "gonna fill you up, sweetheart."

You nodded, the danger of that prospect feeling distant and abstract, while the best parts of it felt so close and tangible.  He groaned as he pumped his load into you, thick and hot and warming you from the inside out.  When he finally slowed to a stop and pulled out, you could feel a gush of it leak out of your opening and run down your thigh.

Silently, he uncuffed your wrists and helped you up off the car, sliding into the backseat with you with a quiet shut of the door behind him.  Something about the overwhelming sensations of it all, and the way it went from so loud to so quiet in just a moment, and his sudden switch from cruel to gentle, made your eyes water until you couldn't help but bawl.  You threw yourself into his arms and sobbed, clutching at his chest.

"I'm so sorry, daddy," you whimpered, "I didn't mean to do anything wrong…"

"Shh, it's okay, sweet girl," he cooed as he stroked your back soothingly.  "You know I only get upset like that cause I want the best for you."

"I know," you sighed, "I just wanted to be normal, you know?  Have a boyfriend like the other girls do, somebody I could marry someday."

"I get it," he nodded, "I don't blame you.  I wish we could leave this place, and start over where nobody knows where we are.  But you know I couldn't leave Knockemstiff… not when I'm about to win this election."

"If you can win here, maybe you can win somewhere else," you suggested.

He turned to look at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face.  "You sayin you wanna run away with me, princess?"

"Umm…" you stalled.

"I know you wanna get away from your ma.  Hell, so do I.  You understand why I needed a wife though— people trust men with wives more," he explained matter-of-factly, "and not wives that are more than 20 years younger than them."

"So it was all a way to get reelected?" 

"I was lonely too.  Marriage didn't fix that though.  You did."

You looked up at him and couldn't believe the way you felt when you did.  Sometimes you hated him even more than you did before he married your mother, but at times like this, you loved him in a way you'd never loved anybody before.  You wondered if maybe hating somebody like that sometimes was just the way love worked.

"Come on, sweet girl, let's go home," he suggested softly, kissing you on the forehead.

You nodded as he got out of the back and returned to the driver’s seat, starting the car.  Laying down, you watched the tops of the trees through the window— though it was quite dark out and there wasn’t a lot to see— and felt your eyelids get heavy.  Drifting to sleep, you dreamt in vivid colors of abstract things that you could never explain with words if you tried; though you couldn’t have known it, Lee watched you sleep in the rearview mirror, and did some dreaming of his own.

//

Midnight snacks; the least of your many bad habits.

You emerged from your room in your summer nightgown— which meant it was as thin as it needed to be for the heat outside— and stepped carefully over the floorboards you knew to creak the loudest as you made your clandestine trek to the mint-colored refrigerator.

As you moved through the living room to get to your destination, you jumped when a figure shifted in the darkness.  Realizing it was Lee, you relaxed (mostly).

"You scared me," you giggled.  "What are you doing on the couch?"

He groaned as he sat up, rubbing his head and looking a little exhausted.  "Uh, nothing… what are you doing up?”

“Just getting a snack,” you admitted, “hope you don’t mind.”

“Don’t stop on my account.  I was thinkin’ of a beer anyways,” he shrugged, following you to the fridge as you opened it.  His shirtlessness was a little distracting as he stood behind you, looking over your shoulder and reaching around to grab the glass bottle.  Settling on a leftover slice of cake wrapped in saran, you set your bounty on the counter while Lee opened and took a sip of his drink.

“Is it good?” he asked you once you’d acquired a fork and scooped a bite of the sweet, sugary dessert into your mouth.

You nodded, smiling but trying to keep your lips together to avoid spitting the food out.  It was a few days old but somehow it tasted better than it had when it was fresh— maybe it was that it was cold on a hot night, or maybe it was that you’d had to navigate a nauseatingly-boring baby shower in order to get some the first time.  Your mother insisted on dragging you along to all kinds of ridiculous community events like that.

Your next bite was more ambitious, because you weren’t exactly worried about eating in a ladylike manner when it was past midnight and you were eating cake in your pyjamas.

“You got some frostin’ on your nose,” Lee informed you— but before you could wipe it off, he took his finger and swiped it right on the tip of your nose.  You felt yourself blush a bit as he licked the blue cream off of his finger.  “It’s sweet,” he announced, “but maybe that’s just you.”

As warmth bloomed in your chest from his kindness (even if it was cheesy), you felt a little bolder to press him about what was actually going on.

“Why were you really on the couch?” you asked softly.

He paused for a second, taking a long, slow sip of beer as he thought, but finally answered.  “I got kicked out of the bed.  Your ma… well, she doesn't handle rejection very well it seems."

"Rejection…?" you encouraged, feeling a bit nervous suddenly.

"I wouldn't sleep with her,” he clarified.  “And now I'm sleepin’… here."

You swallowed, even though you weren’t eating at that exact moment.  "Why… why wouldn't you sleep with her?"

He smirked a little.  "Sweetheart, once you've had a taste of rare meat, you never go back to well done."

The comparison to meat was demeaning, even if you came out on the flattering end of the metaphor.  Still, you took pity on him as you saw how uncomfortable the couch looked.

"You could sleep in my bed, you know,” you offered awkwardly.  “I mean, it's not as big as yours but… it's definitely bigger than the couch…"

He smiled at you in a way that made you wonder if you'd made a mistake.  "You're too sweet, darlin'.  Even for your own good."

The rest of your cake and his beer was forgotten as you walked with each other to your bedroom, now both of you avoiding the creakiest boards.  You couldn’t ignore the way he shut the door behind you as quietly as possible— another reminder that, though neither of you were saying it, that this was the sort of thing you didn’t want to be overheard.  The secrecy of it all made your spine tingle, and you liked it.  Who knew a good girl like you would learn to love breaking the rules so much?

It wasn't as strange as you'd expected to have him in your bed.  A little cramped, maybe, but also oddly nice.  He cuddled up to you, and you felt small but safe in his arms.  When his lips pressed against the back of your neck, you whimpered softly; and when his fingers started to trail down between your legs, you moaned a bit louder.

"Gotta be quiet, pretty girl, don't want anybody else in the house hearin' ya…"

You'd never known how good it could feel to be touched until Lee touched you.  His fingers found every delicate spot and slowly took you apart until it became near impossible to stay quiet.  So quickly after invading your body, he invaded your mind as well, and now he was all you could think about.  Not just in moments like this, disturbingly, but damn-near all the time.  It wasn’t that you forgot everything you hated about him, but more that you forgot how to feel the hate and instead could only logically try to convince yourself to hate him still.  Logic was long gone, though, as he kissed your shoulder and pushed two thick fingers into you.

"You're so wet, honey, you're gonna spoil me," he purred softly against your ear.  "Want me to love ya good, sweet girl?"

You nodded quickly, smiling wide.

He smiled back as rolled you onto your back and slipped between your legs, pushing his pyjama pants down.  You preened when you felt his cock start to slide over your pussy.  When he suddenly pushed in, you gasped and arched your back.

"Shh," he soothed, "it's okay, baby, you can take it.  You're so good, princess, my good girl…"

You whimpered but kept mostly quiet as he thrusted deeper, nearly all the way in.  Was he always going to be this much of a challenge to take?

"Keep those legs open real wide, honey, show me how bad you want it," he purred.

Your head craned up to watch his cock disappearing inside you, only to fall back again as he pulled back and pushed in, over and over, fucking you slow but deep.

"Daddy," you whimpered softly, "feels so good, please don't stop…"

He kissed you, cradling your face in his hands.  "Not gonna stop, princess, 'm right here, not gonna letcha go…"

You clutched at his shoulders, feeling so full that it almost hurt but you loved it, god you loved it more than you could’ve ever believed.  You loved the feeling of him inside you, like you were made for each other.  You loved his little breaths and moans, and knowing it was because of you that he felt good.  You loved it, even, when he went a bit too deep and your arms shot up to push him back, only for him to grab your wrists and hold your hands above your head.  

"My girl," he whispered into your ear, "my girl, my girl, my girl."

And shockingly enough, you loved being his girl.

"I love you, daddy," you sighed, so quiet that you were afraid he wouldn't hear you.  But he did.

"Say it again," he requested.

"I love you," you repeated, "I love you so much, daddy."

"I love you too, princess," he answered with a smile, "more than you can imagine."

He kissed you as his thrusts gained some speed, your walls already fluttering each time he pushed all the way in.  You knew he felt it because you could tell that he was still smiling into the kisses he placed on your neck and shoulders.  You knew he was close, too, because it was his cock beginning to swell and flex within you that pushed you over the edge.  He helped you stay quiet by wrapping his hand around your neck and tightening until you started to see stars.  It made everything stronger, so much so that it quickly became overwhelming as tears quickly began to pour down the sides of your face.  

He was quick to comfort you though, relaxing his grip and wiping the tears away with reverently-whispered praises.  

“Don’t pull out yet, daddy,” you requested softly, wrapping your legs around his hips when you felt that he was trying to pull back.  “I like feeling you inside me…”

He kissed you again, gripping your thigh tight, and stayed that way until you finally agreed that he could go— and who were you to say how long you made him wait?  It felt too good to let him go so soon, even if he was exhausted.  As soon as you nodded, though, he was slipping out and sighing. 

"Fuck it, I'm not gonna wait any longer," he groaned as he laid back onto your bed, staring at the ceiling, "I wanna make you mine for good."

You laid your head on his shoulder, looking up at him and admiring the little details of his face that you could only see when you were this close.  "I thought you said you'd never leave Knockemstiff."

"I don't think I have to.  What's the point of bein' the Sheriff if I can't marry who I want?"

You bit your lip a little before replying to that.  "You really wanna marry me?"

"Of course I do, princess,” he smiled proudly, looking back at you.  “Might have to wait a while if I'm s'posed to save up for another one of them diamond rings…"

"I don't need one, long as I have you," you decided confidently.

"You're too good to me, sweetheart," he smirked, kissing your temple softly.  "Can't wait to spoil you the way you deserve."

“How’s that?” you pressed, drawing abstract shapes onto his chest with your fingertip.

“A bigger bed than this,” he laughed.  “A nice car— if you want your own, that is.  You know I’d love to have you shotgun with me in the patrol car as much as I can.”

“You’d really get me a car?”

“Of course, after a little while.  What kind would you want?”

“A red one.  A real glossy red one.”

“Alright,” he smirked.  “How about I getcha somethin’ else fancy— pearls, maybe?  A girl like you deserves to wear pearls every day.”

“You think I’d look good in them?”

“Mm, especially if you weren’t in much else.”

“Okay, I could wear pearls if you bought them for me.  Maybe I’ll be one of those wives who’s wearing pearls and heels when her husband gets home from work.”

“Fuck, talkin’ like that’ll get me hard again, princess,” he groaned.  “Anythin’ else you want?”

“...I want a baby,” you admitted softly, embarrassed to even say it.

“I’ll put one in ya right now, sweetpea,” he purred.  “Well, maybe not right now, I need a minute or two but… I could’ve already gotten you pregnant, you know.  I’m no good at pullin’ out when it comes to you and that tight little pussy.”

“Is it strange if I sort of hope you did?  Get me pregnant already, I mean.”

“Not at all,” he shook his head, “at least not to me.  But I’m a little stranger than most.”

“Yes, that’s the impression I get,” you giggled.  

“Maybe it’s strange that I think you’d look beautiful pregnant, all round and glowin’, with my baby in ya…” he trailed off, clearly imagining it.

“Maybe it’s strange that I think you’re the most handsome man in all of Ohio,” you winked, snuggling up closer to him.

“That is most certainly strange,” Lee laughed.

[invisibleraven]

wanna watch the sunrise? / i am, right now.

rulie bc sap

The fun of being with Reggie, Julie thought, was that you never knew what to expect. Some dates they spent at the beach, laughing as the waves tickled their toes and collecting shells. Others they might end up at a punk show, bouncing in the mosh pit or crowd surfing. Glow in the dark putt putt, a memorable trip to the paintball range. A poetry reading where Reggie actually performed, ending up with him getting introduced to Julie's bed sheets.

It's been two years of this, and every date was an adventure. Julie loved it, eagerly going along with whatever he had planned. She was never bored, that was for sure. So when Reggie proposed they go for a drive one night, she hopped into the front seat of his Cadillac, a grin on her face. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"That's half the fun, not knowing," Reggie replied. When she wheedled at him, he just shot her his trademark crooked grin. "It's a surprise little darlin', just wait and see."

So off they drove, the radio on low, taking in the sights as they went. It was already dark and the roads were relatively empty as Reggie turned onto another stretch of highway. All the while they would talk.

Sometimes it was about simple things, like their jobs or their families, or their awful landlord. Other moments were filled with them philosophizing about the nature of man and the universe. Then they would start singing their lungs out along with the radio, or sit in comfortable silence.

They stopped every so often to refuel, or eat at whatever picnic table or rest stop they came across. Julie never once even thinking 'Are we there yet?' because she was honestly just having fun spending time with Reggie.

However, they had been driving all night, and she was starting to get tired, so after a coffee break, Reggie started steering them towards a hill. He finally parked the car at an overlook, and Julie could see all of LA spread out below her. It was a gorgeous sight, even as the sky's blackness started to fade, and with it, the twinkling stars and the lights of the buildings growing dimmer.

"So what now?" Julie asked, easing herself off the car hood where they had been sitting, eyes still trained on the view. "Wanna watch the sun rise?"

"I am, right now."

Julie turned around, intending to call Reggie a dork when the words caught in her throat. Because there was Reggie, down on one knee before her, looking soft and sincere, a small jewellery box in his hand. The rapidly rising sun made him glow, awash in golden hues and Julie choked back a cry at how overwhelmed she felt in that moment.

"Julie... these past two years have been the best of my life. Your laughter, your song, your warmth fill my days. Every morning I am so thankful that I get to wake up to your smile, and every night I am grateful to hold you in my arms. There's a gorgeous view out there, but to me, you are the most beautiful thing here. Or anywhere really. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. To keep going on adventures with you, to grow old with you. Mostly, I just want to be with you, even if all we ever do again is sit on the couch and watch movies together. So Julie, will you please be my wife?"

Julie didn't even wait for him to open the box, tackling him to the ground, kissing him for all she was worth, then pressing peck after peck into his face, whispering her agreement after each one. Reggie giggled wetly, the both of them crying in happiness. Even more so when he slipped the simple ring onto her finger.

The world had burst into daylight, the sun shining down on them, and Julie grinned as the rays made her ring sparkle all the way home. They would have plans to make and people to call later, but for now, they went home, sliding into the bed together, eager for a nap.

But the last thought Julie had before falling asleep was that she couldn't wait for the next adventure with Reggie, and kissed his chest over his heart before drifting off, her ring still sparkling in the sun.

[spooderboyandtincan]

You're Gonna Miss Me When I'm Gone

Chapter 2

There’s a spider on the ceiling.

Peter can barely make out its eight gangly legs through a blur of tears. He feels some sort of bond with it- not only because of the DNA they share- but because they’re both alone. Then again, the spider has probably spent its entire life in this room, and Peter’s only been here- on a whole different continent- for a good couple of hours.

Maybe it’s just the jet lag. According to literally anyone who’s known him at all- he gets adorably grumpy when he hasn’t gotten his beauty sleep (Tony’s words, not his.)

Who does he think he’s kidding? He’s homesick, he’s alone, and he really, really misses Tony. Misses him as in the his heart is literally being torn apart sort of missing. He wishes he’d considered how his severe separation anxiety might play a part in this when he’d still had a choice.

Peter chokes on a whine- the one that forces its way out of his throat until he’s full on sobbing and gasping for breath.

He scrambles for his phone on the nightstand. He needs Tony, he needs him, like a fish needs water. He fumbles with the lock screen and desperately taps on Tony’s icon (a picture of Tony holding a proudly displaying a mug that reads “Number 1 Iron Dad.”) It rings once, twice-

“Pete? How’s it going, kiddie?” Tony’s voice, so gentle, so full of love and concern- he already knows something’s wrong, of course, because his Dad Senses are off the charts- makes the tear in his heart rip open.

“Tony,” he sobs. “Tony. I don’t- I can’t, I can’t do this. I wanna go home, Tony.”

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay Petey, breathe for me okay?” He can hear, just barely over his sobs, that Tony is pacing, can hear that his breathing is just a bit too fast, and Peter feels awful for freaking him out, but just can’t stop crying.

“‘M so sorry,” he wails, “‘M so sorry. I-I wanna go home, I want you Tony.” He grasps his pillow tightly and buries his face in it, trying to stifle his sobs, pretending that Tony is there, wrapping his arms around him, kissing his hair, rocking them back and forth.

“I know, baby, I know,” Tony croons, “Everything’s gonna be okay, we’re okay. Right now I just need you to take a deep breath, buddy- in, two-three, out, two-three, okay?” Tony demonstrates for him, taking exaggerated inhales and exhales, which are probably benefiting him as much as they are Peter. “You’ve got this, Pete, I know you do.”

“I miss you, Tony,” Peter whispers after a few seconds of shaky breathing. “I wanna go home.” He feels so immature, begging Tony to fly across the Atlantic in the dead of night just because he’s a little homesick.

Tony, however, seems to consider his request very seriously. “Do you want me to fly out? I could be there in a few hours.”

Peter almost laughs, imagining Tony arriving to the hotel at daybreak, dressed only in sweatpants and a stained AC/DC t-shirt. It’s actually not a bad idea- Tony could act as a chaperone, they could explore the city together, make another precious memory.

“Yeah, um, that-that would be great, Tony,” he sniffs, wiping the wetness of his cheeks. “A-are you sure? I don’t wanna, like, make you, there’s probably Iron, um, Iron Man things, I don’t-”

“Pete, listen to me,” Tony interrupts, voice again so impossibly gentle. “Nothing- nothing- is more important to me than you, understand? I’m here for you. Always”

Peter smiles wetly, relaxing back into the covers, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I know. Tony?”

“Yeah, bud?

“Can-can you, um, talk? Please?”

“‘Course I can, Pete. What about?” Tony says fondly. The idea that his voice can bring such comfort to this sweet kid makes him feel all… schmoopy.

“Anything. I just… wanna hear your voice, s’all.” He tugs the covers up and curls into a ball, resting the phone on the pillow next to his ear.

“I’ve got you, bud,” Tony says. I miss you too. “Oh, you’ve gotta know what DUM-E did today….”

Peter feels himself relaxing as Tony talks about his day. It’s not just the words that soothe him, but the familiar sound of his warm voice that’s full of such love and affection. His thoughts begin to wander as he drifts into a barely conscious haze, but the voice remains steady and present in his mind.

Tony is quick to notice that Peter is on the precipice of slumber and wakefulness, and is just as quick to provide the last bit of reassurance Peter needs to fall asleep. “Sweet dreams, buddy. I love you,” he murmurs.

Just before Peter slips away, he finds himself slurring, “Love you too.”

Tony stays on the call for a solid ten minutes after Peter conks out, listening to the steady whoosh of his breathing against the speaker. Before he finally makes himself hang up, he whispers a quiet, “‘Night, Petey. I’ll be there before you know it.” Tony leaves for the airport at daybreak, not able to spend another second in that horribly empty penthouse. The absence of Peter’s presence is tremendously obvious, and Tony finds himself desperately trying not to imagine the unimaginable.

~~~~~

With a pilot on-call 24-7, and without the hassles of a public airport, he’ll be back with Peter around early afternoon.

Thank god.

He steps out of the Cadillac, barely noticing the blistering wind and the tiny snowflakes biting at his cheeks in his haste to board the plane. He greets the pilot- Allison, he thinks- with a nod, but she gestures to stop when he moves towards the stairs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark!” she says over the howling wind. “We just can’t fly in this weather!”

To hell with that, Tony thinks. “When’s it letting up?”

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Stark,” Allison says apologetically. “Not for a few days at least.”

Tony activates the suit with a simple tap of his watch, the nanobots rushing over him within seconds. Allison gasps and jumps back, gaping as he rockets into the air.

He’s been flying for a good 50 seconds before a neon red warning lights up the HUD.

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says, tone filled with caution. “The wind is blowing at a speed of 78 mph. I must advise that you return to the ground immediately, or you run the risk of losing control of the suit.”

Tony curses loudly. Just his luck, really. “How high is the risk?”

“89%, boss.”

“So, not all that bad,” he chuckles.

Then, F.R.I.D.A.Y reminds him how devastated Peter would be if anything happened to him.

Tony returns to his car on foot and pulls out his phone to call Peter.

~~~~~

Peter basks in the sunlight outside of a bustling café, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. He’s ordered a chocolate croissant, and added the tasteless protein powder Tony and Bruce had synthesized to keep up with his spidey metabolism to his mug. Despite the jet lag, he’s eager to explore the city and it’s merits, his enthusiasm only growing knowing that Tony will be here within a few hours.

Feeling pleasantly full, Peter leans back in his chair- it’s an armchair, on a stool, and it’s driving him nuts, he loves it- and beams at Ned, who lounges next to him in an identical chair. “Dude,” he says.

“Dude,” Ned agrees.

Peter is grinning, Ned is grinning, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, life is sweet-

Peter’s phone rings.

His first thought is that Tony’s plane has crashed.

His second is one of relief when he realizes it’s Tony who’s calling him.

His third is that his plane has crashed, and Tony’s calling him, mortally wounded, to say goodbye.

Ned stares at him, taking in the panicked look on his face, and mouths You good? Peter shakes his head and scrabbles for his phone.

“Pete?” Tony says as soon as he’s answered. He sounds fine, at least. “Hiya.”

“Are you okay?” Peter asks first, because he knows that even if Tony sounds like he’s fine, that doesn’t mean he is.

“Yeah. Yeah, Petey, I’m just fine, I promise,” Tony assures him. Peter relaxes in his chair, flashing Ned a quick thumbs up, because knows Tony would never lie to him, especially not if he was hurt. “How’re you doin’?”

Peter’s face lights up. “Oh, great! There are like, dogs everywhere here, even in the restaurants, and I saw this German Shepherd eating like- dog ice cream or something? And I got this super good chocolate croissant where we’re having breakfast. Y’know, I really thought the jet lag would be super bad but I’m not like, tired at all yet!”

“Aw, buddy, that’s great, I’m glad you’re havin’ a good time,” Tony says, voice dripping with fondness. “You’re drinking enough water, staying hydrated and all that, right?”

“Yup! Are you?”

Tony scoffs. “‘Course I am. Hafta set a good example n’ shi- stuff.” Peter snorts. He knows Tony does his best not to curse around his- and he quotes- “young, unsullied ears" but he ends up failing quite a lot.

“Which reminds me bud, how’s Ted?” Peter’s best friend’s health has pretty much no correlation with cursing, which makes the teen think that Tony has a specific reason for asking about him. He decides not to bring it up though.

“It’s Ned,” he sighs in mock frustration. And he’s good, he’s right next to me! I guess I didn’t tell you yesterday, but the hotel guy put us into two different rooms ‘cause they had extra or something and we didn’t realize ‘til we got to our rooms.” He sighs again then, for real, his good mood evaporating.

Tony’s Dad Senses pick up on it instantaneously. “Not ideal, huh?” he says gently, which earns him a small laugh from the kid. “D’you want me to talk to them?”

Peter nods sheepishly, then realizes Tony can’t see him. “Yeah. Thank you,” he says in a small voice, embarrassed that the genius is going to all this trouble just because he’s a little lonely. “Are you gonna be here soon?” he asks then, because he misses Tony, misses him just like he knows Tony is missing him.

Tony clears his throat. When he speaks, the guilt in his voice could rip him in half. “About that, buddy, well- Jesus, Pete, I’m so sorry. The, uh, the wind is too dangerous for me to fly over, and it’s not letting up ‘til around Monday. I’m so sorry, kiddo.”

Peter’s heart sinks. “Oh,” he says numbly.

He hears Tony lurch up. “Hey, Petey- shit, I’m so sorry, buddy. I- you know what, fuck it, I’ll fly over anyway, I-”

“No! No, I’m okay, I’m fine!” Peter says, wincing silently at the forced cheeriness in his voice, and knowing that Tony has seen right through.

“Hey, hey, buddy, it’s okay, I’ll be perfectly safe-”

“You can’t,” Peter pleads, desperate to keep Tony safe. “Please, Tony, you can’t, you’ll crash, or-”

“Whoa, Petey, deep breaths,” Tony interrupts, voice gentle. “I’m right here, I’m fine, you hear me?” He waits for Peter’s breathing to resume a steady rate, then says, “Bub, I won’t fly over if it’s not safe, I promise.”

Peter sighs. He’s relieved beyond belief that Tony is keeping both feet on the ground where he’ll be safe- he better be- but he misses the billionaire more than ever.

“And hey, who knows, maybe the wind’ll let up in a few hours!” Tony chuckles. Sobering a little, he says, “If the weather is on schedule, I’ll be there on Monday, 6 am, sharp.”

Peter prays he will. “I miss you, Tony,” he mumbles- he feels childish, knowing that he’s just begged the man to stay in New York, and now is just making him more miserable knowing that he’s miserable.

“I miss you too, Petey,” the genius murmurs back, voice filled with sorrow.

“Peter!” The phone nearly flies out of Peter’s hand as Mr. Harrington taps on his shoulder. He gasps a little, and though his teacher doesn’t seem to notice, Tony sure does, his gentle voice turning harsh with barley contained panic. “Who was that, Pete? Are you okay?”

“Um-” he tries.

“Come on, now! The bus is almost here, I can see it around the corner!” Mr. Harrington says loudly, and abruptly struts off, frantically waving down the bus that is already stopping.

“Peter!” Tony exclaims.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it was just Mr. Harrington,” he rushes to reassure him. Tony breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. “Uh, the bus is here, I- I have to go.” He hurries to catch up with his best friend.

“I love you,” Tony says. “I love you so much, Pete, stay out of trouble, be safe.”

He doesn’t want to say goodbye. Neither of them do.

“I love you, Tony,” says Peter. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry about me!”

And with that, the call ends.

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eight: Don’t Worry Baby

a/n: hello hello!!! a massive apology for this one being so late it’s been such a hectic week for me, so I really appreciate your patience <3 Thank you for sticking around and for the continued love and support you have shown to this story. It really means the world to me :’) I hope you enjoy this chapter, feel free to chat with me afterwards, I’m intrigued to see where y’all think this story is going now👀 there is certainly much 2 think about... Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 4.5k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven

The faint clanging of pots and pans, Freddie barking, and Pua’s laughter rouses Alani from her peaceful sleep. She sees nothing but pink as her eyes peel open and momentarily thinks that she’s gone blind, but her vision soon focuses on the vague outline of black ink. With a curious dent between her brows, she removes the sticky note pressed to her forehead and turns it over.

GOOD MORNING!

MAKING BREAKFAST DOWNSTAIRS. SEE YOU THERE :)

♡  H

Her mouth, still puffy with the touch of sleep, curls at the edges as she clutches the note to her chest. One hand slides over to the indentation left in her bed by Harry and it’s still warm, which means that he must not have been gone long. Alani climbs out of the covers and races to the top of the stairs where she can hear him and her sister having a playful exchange. 

“I don’t think you put enough chocolate chips,”

“What do you mean? It’s about 90% chocolate right now,”

“So make it 100%,”

As she creeps down the stairs, she spots Pua perched on a swiveling chair at the kitchen island, Freddie snoozing in her lap, while Harry meticulously sprinkles chocolate chips into a bowl of pancake batter next to the stove. The scene makes Alani’s heart swell, so she silently observes for a moment before interrupting. 

“Is this more to your liking, Your Majesty?”

“Much better. Even Freddie thinks so,”

“I thought dogs couldn’t have chocolate,”

“Must you question everything I say?”

“I think he’s right,” Alani confirms, stepping into the kitchen to tussle her sister’s hair and pet Freddie. Harry lights up at the sound of her voice and immediately sticks his cheek out for a kiss. She gives him a peck and accepts the chocolate chip that he holds to her lips, letting him have a taste as it dissolves on their tongues. 

“Please, don’t stop on my account,” Pua grimaces. 

The pair separate and Alani pokes her tongue out at her younger sister, making Harry chuckle beside her. 

“Hey, no fighting,” he warns. “Or no one gets pancakes.”

“She started it!” both sisters defend in unison. 

They share a laugh and dissolve into their own antics while Harry returns to the stove with a cheerful whistle. He methodically shapes the pancakes into hearts on the skillet, playfully swatting Alani’s hand away from the bag of chocolate every five minutes or so. Freddie waits patiently at Harry’s ankles during the entire cooking process, praying that the human will drop a scrap of food his way. 

“Sorry, Mr. Mercury,” Harry apologizes, reaching down to give the dog a gentle pat. “These aren’t for you. Take it up with Mother Nature,”

Alani fills Freddie’s bowl to relieve Harry of his dog-sitting duties before hopping up onto the counter beside him. He slots himself between her legs, flashing a cheesy grin that makes her giggle, and her fingertips trace over the faint shadow of stubble around his jawline and above his lip.

“Can you grow a beard?”

“Do you want me to?”

Alani shrugs, considering the idea. “I was just wondering if you were capable,”

“Hey,” he pouts. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smiles innocently, pinching his chin. “Nothing, I like the fresh face. But stubble’s kinda hot,”

“Noted,” Harry winks.

“I like spending my mornings with you,” Alani admits quietly. “And the whole chef thing you’ve got going on is definitely a perk,” 

Harry’s dimple resurfaces and his emerald eyes gleam. “Me too, sweets. Did you like the note I left you?”

“Yes, it was a very nice touch,” Alani confesses, heart still soaring over the sentiment. 

“Didn’t wanna wake you. Looked so peaceful drooling, hair all in your face—”

“—Hey!”

“Did you know that you kinda talk a little in your sleep?”

“I do not!” 

Harry kisses the wrinkle in the middle of her forehead and it eases. “Do too. It’s cute, though.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Alani grumbles with a small, affectionate smile. “Let’s eat.”

Both Pua and Alani compliment Harry on the restaurant quality of his heart-shaped pancakes, and he accepts the praise with a bow that makes them both giggle. The three of them gather happily around the dining table, sharing jokes and analyses of each other’s dreams from the night before. Of particular interest is Pua’s dream about her teeth being replaced by kernels of candy corn, which Harry explains is a warning to cut down on the sugar before bed. 

“You’re no fun,” Pua teases with her arms crossed. “Only had a pint of ice cream last night,”

Harry snickers. “As opposed to?”

“Alani, can you date a dairy farmer next time?” 

“Hey!”

Alani rolls her eyes, but her smile reveals her true amusement. “Be nice,”

“Thought I was your ‘favorite singer,’” Harry sulks. 

Pua’s eyes dart to her older sister. “You told him?!”

“What?” Alani asks innocently. “It was sweet,”

Harry’s brow furrows. “Why wasn’t I supposed to know that?”

“Cause you’ll get a big head,” 

“Too late. I won your sister over, even though she’s way out of my league,”

“And don’t you forget it.” Pua cautions with a friendly tussle of his hair before standing with her empty plate. 

Harry chuckles lightly. “I thought we were friends,”

“Sisters before misters,” Alani shrugs, grabbing his plate and utensils to put in a pile with her own. “So whatcha doin’ today?”

“Good question,” he ponders, tapping his chin. “Get dressed, we’re going out,”

“Where to?”

“It’s a surprise,”

“I don’t like surprises,”

“Tough,” Harry maintains. “And you’re a liar cos everyone likes good surprises,”

Alani traces a heart onto the back of his hand with her fingertip and sighs. “But I need to know what to dress for,”

“Dress for the perfect afternoon with your favorite guy,”

“James Marsden’s coming?”

Harry purses his lips and stands. “Alright, I’m leaving now,”

“I’m kidding!” Alani giggles, offering an apologetic kiss. “I’m sorry, sunshine. Please don’t go,”

“I wasn’t aware that James Marsden made you these pancakes,” Harry dodges her affection.

“Or that he had your face as his screensaver,”

“You do not!” Alani counters, eyes wide. 

She gasps when he holds up his phone to reveal her unflattering selfie. “Why?!”

“Because you’re so cute, that’s why!” Harry explains with a delicate smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Even when you’re mean,”

Alani playfully swats his arm and pulls him closer by the pocket of his hoodie. “I’m sorry, ku’uipo. You’re the sweetest. Thank you for breakfast.”

“Welcome, dove,” he beams. “Now grab some clothes, we gotta stop by my place first.”

********

Alani slips on a pair of platform sandals and smoothes out her skirt while Harry pulls on a white t-shirt with a blue bandana secured around his neck. The polka dots on her yellow dress bring a fond crease to the corners of his eyes as he swipes a pair of black sunglasses from his dresser and pushes them into his unruly curls for the time being. 

“Give us a twirl,” he requests, whistling when she obliges. 

Alani spins into his arms and her hands smooth over the soft material of his burnt orange button up adorned with white lilies. “Digging the white tee, babe. How very James Dean of you.”

“Only the best for you, doll.” Harry shoots back in his best American accent. 

As they make their way to the back of the house where the Cadillac is parked, he queues up a song that he hopes will bring a smile to Alani’s face. “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini” begins playing as loud as his phone speakers will allow and he flashes a cheeky grin in her direction. “Bit of a theme song for you today,”

“You’re such a cheese ball,”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” he teases with a pinch of her thigh. 

“Never said I didn’t,”

“Fair enough,” 

“So, are you finally gonna tell me where we’re going now?” Alani asks, batting her eyelashes. 

Harry shakes his head and tuts in mock disapproval. “Are you gonna try to ruin every surprise I plan for you?”

“I just wanna know what to expect!”

“You’ll like it, promise,”

“A hint?” she bargains. “An itsy bitsy, teenie weenie one?”

Harry captures his bottom lip between his teeth and thinks. “It’s for something in your room,”

“That’s all?” Alani blurts. “That could mean anything!”

“You said one hint and I delivered! So why don’t you just sit back and enjoy the ride now?” he suggests, laughing to himself when Alani crosses her arms with a huff. 

The drive is scenic and the weather is especially nice, which explains why the beaches they pass are more crowded than usual. Alani checks “beach” off her list of possible locations, racking her brain for the items in her room that could have possibly caught Harry’s attention. She wonders if he noticed the various scented candles perched on her nightstand and dressing table, deciding that a candle shop probably isn’t likely. Momentarily, she recalls the pile of books on her desk and her mind flashes back to their conversation about one of their mutual favorite authors, Angela Avery. Getting warmer. Harry remains tight-lipped and merely offers a coy smile or a whistle each time Alani ventures a guess. But just when she started to believe she would wear him down, the two of them pull into the parking lot of Moku Records and draw her speculation to an end. 

“Of course,” Alani surrenders, stepping out of the passenger door that Harry opens for her. “I should’ve known,”

“Came here my first week. The day after I met you, actually,” he explains bashfully.

Alani’s cheeks warm at the sentiment, and she laughs at the way he swings their joint hands softly as they cross the empty parking lot. Harry pulls the door open and she takes a curious step over the threshold, noting the hint of jasmine and sandalwood mixed in the air of the little shop. Her eyes immediately land on the A-B section first where she spots ABBA and The Beatles, and her fingers tenderly run over the cover art. 

“Like a kid in a candy shop,” Harry observes fondly. “Pick out whatever you want,”

“Are you serious?” Alani asks, eyes wide.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Course. Wanted to make a contribution to your collection,”

“I don’t know,” she smiles sheepishly. “I don’t want you spending a lot of money on me. I really appreciate the offer, though,”

“So what if you pick some out for me, too? Then we can think of it as compensation for your generous musical recommendations,” Harry puts forward.

“You make music for a living,” Alani scoffs. “What do you need my recommendations for?”

“What, you think musicians are born knowing every song that exists?”

“Okay, fine. Who can we credit for your music taste, then?”

Harry mulls it over for a second, a gentle hum vibrating in his Adam’s apple, before he responds. “My mum, mostly. Some friends—”

“—Any exes?” Alani fishes. 

“Yeah,” he confirms shyly. “Some I guess. You?”

“Same, pretty much,”

“Right, well now you’ve gotta tell me where you picked up all of these albums ‘cause I don’t wanna be buying shit your ex-boyfriend introduced you to,” Harry teases to lighten the mood. 

An amused exhale escapes from Alani’s nose and she shakes her head. “No, I meant your exes also inspired me,”

 She holds up a record with the numbers “1989″ and a familiar blonde on the cover, and Harry shoots her an unamused look. “Okay, now you’re just being mean again,”

“Long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt,” Alani sings as he turns to walk away. 

“Keep it up and you’re gonna be buying your own bloody records!”

“Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style,” 

Harry gives her a sharp side-eye, but the faint curl of his lips betrays the intended message of his glare. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because it’s a good song,” Alani giggles. “And you’re just being a hater,”

“Thanks,”

Alani turns on her heel with Harry’s palm pressed firmly against hers, and continues to sort through the collection of vinyls. The two of them snake through the aisles and pull albums that they think the other person would enjoy. Harry grabs one from Wings that has been in his recent playlists while Alani explains that he absolutely must own the vinyl version of “AM” by the Arctic Monkeys. He picks out a Shania Twain and highlights the track “You’re Still the One,” which Alani counters with The Mamas and the Papas. 

“Wait,” Alani stops, pulling another record excitedly. “You gotta have this one as a starter,” 

Harry accepts the copy of Queen’s “A Day at the Races” and adds it to the growing pile. “A classic, of course,”

“And I already have its sister album, ‘A Night at the Opera,’ so we can share, ” she suggests, turning back to her browsing. 

Harry’s phone rings and he shuffles the albums around in his arms before lifting it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Jeff’s voice carries through the speaker. “Film crew’s here. Are you on your way?”

“Shit,” Harry curses, eyes shutting tight. 

“You forgot?”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,”

He had completely disregarded all of his previous plans in favor of spending every possible minute with Alani. One of those plans, however, was a mini documentary following the formation of his debut solo album which would start filming that day and continue over the course of the week. 

“No worries,” Jeff continues. “Might wanna give Alani a heads up if you bring her, though.”

“Thanks, mate. See you soon.” Harry says before ending the call. 

Alani had only been half listening, still admiring the artwork of the vinyl covers. “Everything okay?”

“Music thing I forgot about. Gotta go back to the house for a bit,”

“Okay,” she nods understandingly, though it pains her to do so. “So you can just drop me off at my house and we’ll hang tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow?” Harry repeats. “I can pick you up after work, it’ll just be for the afternoon,”

Alani shakes her head apologetically. “My dad’s picking me up on his way home from the airport. He’s getting back from his trip tonight and he’ll wanna see me and my sister,”

“Oh,” he relents, defeated. “Okay, so tomorrow morning?”

“Well, tomorrow afternoon. I work the morning shift,”

Harry groans. “Twenty-four hours?” 

“We’ll be fine,” Alani chuckles, taking some of the records from his hands to lighten the load.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that,”

“That’s a load of bollocks,” 

“Bollocks? God you’re so British,”

“And you are so American,” Harry pouts over the sudden derailment of his romantic afternoon plans. “God, this sucks,”

Alani offers him a kiss to soothe the sting, which he accepts with a hum. “Majorly. But hey, what can you do? The music calls.”

They check out and she carries the bag on her hip, the temporary relief of retail therapy distracting her from the disappointment of their time cut short. Harry checks the time and calculates that he’ll be a little later than promised, but he’s more concerned with making every second with Alani count. There’s a bit of cloud coverage over his usual sunny disposition, so she tries her best to cheer him up by lifting their intertwined fingers and pressing gentle kisses to his knuckles. 

“Thank you for the most perfect afternoon,” she murmurs against his skin.

“Wasn’t supposed to be over for a few more hours.” 

“Every minute with my favorite guy is like heaven.” Alani admits, watching intently as his smile slowly returns. 

********

“How’s California?”

“You know, it’s kinda growing on me. My nana and pops send their love,” 

“Aw, miss them,” Alani smiles, shifting the phone to her other ear. She decided to spend her free afternoon catching up with her best friend still on the mainland, though her thoughts occasionally drifted back to Harry. “Any cute surfer boys?”

“Maybe one,” Maleah confides. “But it’s nothing serious,”

“And you’ve been holding out on me?” Alani gasps. 

“His name’s Max, he’s a lifeguard,”

“I demand photos immediately,”

“Sure thing,” Maleah giggles sweetly. “Speaking of boytoys, where’s yours? I thought you two were attached at the lips at all times,”

Alani walks her toes up the wall, a soft grin easing onto her face when she spots the pink sticky note from earlier. She turns her head to Harry’s spot and takes a deep breath to soak in the lingering scent of vanilla.

“Working, kinda,”

Maleah frowns. “Doing what exactly?”

“Some music thing. I guess they’re filming a behind the scenes mini-film or something, I’m not entirely sure. Harry was kind of cryptic,”

“That’s weird,”

Alani sits up. “Do you think it sounds fishy?”

“No way. Mr. Perfect would never,” Maleah assures her. “But you know him best. What does your heart tell you?”

It hadn’t even crossed Alani’s mind that Harry might not be telling the truth, but for a brief, guilt ridden moment she considers it. She quickly closes that door after considering all the things he had already been so open about. “He would tell me if something was up,”

“Then there you go,” Maleah says decisively. “That’s good that you guys are so open. Communication is key as they say,”

“Yeah, absolutely. Mind if I gush for a second?”

“Of course not, spill!” Maleah urges her. 

Alani recaps the events of the last couple of days, from the painting and the heart-shaped pancakes to the record store. The weight of Harry’s absence grows heavier with each passing minute until it forms a lump at the back of her throat, but she swallows it down.

“Wow,” Maleah swoons. “What planet did this guy come from, and are there more of him there?”

“Sometimes I think he’s too good to be true, like I made him up or something,”

“Can you make me one like that, too?”

Alani giggles. “What about Max?”

“Well hey, maybe we can all double date sometime,” her best friend suggests eagerly. “He’s kind of coming to visit when I go back home,”

“I thought you said it wasn’t serious?”

“Yeah, well, I just didn’t wanna jinx it,” Maleah explains shyly. “So whaddya say? Think Harry will be in town a couple more weeks for us all to meet up?”

Alani searches her brain for any mention of Harry’s travel plans and it suddenly dawns on her that she didn’t know how long he planned to stay, or where he would go once he did eventually leave the island. He had said once that he considered London his home, but it hadn’t exactly been a straight answer. The thought of his inevitable departure makes her stomach turn, so she musters up a more hopeful answer than what reflects her worries. “Definitely.”

********

Harry rushes into the house and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. The voices of his manager and friends mixed with the unfamiliar chatter of another person echo from the kitchen, and he takes a deep breath to steady his nerves. 

“I’m sorry for being so late,” he apologizes with an outstretched hand towards one of the strangers he’d only conversed with over emails. “It’s nice to meet you,”

"Paul,” the man offers warmly. “Paul Dugdale,”

“Harry,”

Paul introduces the rest of the film crew that will be following the band for the week and Harry extends a gracious welcome to each of them, despite secretly wishing that he’d never agreed to the project in the first place. Every minute on camera, he realizes, is another agonizing minute away from Alani. 

“So listen,” Paul instructs. “Based on everything we’ve discussed in our creative meetings, we’re gonna approach this very fly-on-the-wall style. Very little intervention, you won’t even notice we’re here,”

“Good deal,” Harry nods. 

“We’ll save the interviews for when you come back to London in two weeks,”

“I’m sorry, what was that you just said?”

Paul’s brows furrow. “About the interviews?”

“The two weeks bit,” Harry clarifies. 

“Oh, right. Well we’re gonna need you back in London in two weeks so we can film the sit-down interviews that will sort of guide the narrative. But don’t worry, we already scheduled it around the Dunkirk shoots so there shouldn’t be any conflicts.”

Harry’s head spins. He had been living in such a carefree bubble with Alani that every other responsibility in his life career-wise had slipped his mind entirely. There was no way on Earth that he could pack everything up and leave just when things had started to fall into place for them. With uneasiness burrowing a whole in the pit of his stomach, Harry musters up a pleasant smile. “Course, sounds great.”

The film crew sets up quickly and urges Harry and his friends to go about their usual business, but nothing feels natural about the clock ticking away inside the singer’s mind. He had always known that he was living on borrowed time in Hawai’i, but he hadn’t planned on finding something worth sticking around for. There had to be something he could do, some way that he could stay even if it was just until the end of summer before Alani would have to return to school full-time in the fall. Despite the uncertainty surrounding his plan to buy more time, one thing is certain: he can’t tell Alani until he has a solid course of action. Harry is fully aware of the risk he runs by leaving her in the dark, but it seems less daunting than the possibility of her ending things because of the sudden expiration date put on their relationship. And no matter how long Harry is able to extend their time together, he knows it won’t be easy to leave Alani and everything they had built together behind. His anxious fingers fiddle with the strings of the guitar resting in his lap as he imagines what it will take to prove his feelings, wishing all the while that he could just hold her in his arms and hear her say that everything would be alright. 

********

Alani yawns, but she rubs the drowsiness out of her eyes and returns her fingers to the keyboard. She isn’t sure whether she should go through with the Rolling Stone submission, but writing has always been her way of processing her thoughts, so she decides not to let the material that she already has go to waste. Her phone buzzes on the nightstand next to her cup of coffee and she lifts it gently before reading the caller ID. 

“Hey, sunshine,” she murmurs.

“Did I wake you?”

“Nah, just doing some writing,”

A smirk tugs at the corners of Harry’s mouth. “Anything I would like?”

“It’s about you,” 

“Love it already,”

Alani giggles softly on the other end and it makes Harry’s chest ache. “Funny that you called. I’m actually having a bit of writer’s block,”

“Alright, let me help you out,” Harry clears his throat. “Harry Styles: aspiring musician, fashion novice, phenomenal lover—”

“—And the most humble person I know,”

“Yeah put that, too,” he adds playfully. “Hey, what time are you working tomorrow?”

Alani yawns and closes her laptop for the night. “Eight to three,”

“Shit,”

“She works hard for the money or whatever Donna Summer said,”

Harry checks the time on his phone—23:39—and he decides to act quickly. “Can you stay awake for another 20 minutes?”

“Yeah, I guess. Why?” Alani questions, taking a sip of her tepid coffee.  

“Just don’t fall asleep. I’ll call you back in a few.”

“Okay.”

She assumes that Harry must have gotten busy again and puts on a movie to keep her awake. Fifteen minutes pass and her eyelids are as heavy as bricks, but the ringing of her phone nearly causes her to jump out of her skin. 

“Hello?” she answers weakly. 

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair! Or a ladder, preferably,”

Alani’s face scrunches in confusion. “What?”

“I’m outside, sweets,” 

She quickly jumps to her feet and makes her way over to the window at the opposite side of her room. Sure enough, Harry is waiting below with a thumbs up and she chuckles to herself as she lifts the windowpane up. 

“What are you doing?”

“Climbing this tree I guess, since you’re no help,” he explains, already finding his footing in the Acacia Koa outside her window. 

“We have a front door, you know,”

Harry swiftly maneuvers from branch to branch, which frankly surprises himself as much as it does Alani. When he finally reaches the window and hoists himself inside, a victorious grin spreads across his face punctuated by a dimple on each cheek. “Can James Marsden do that?”

“You’re crazy,” Alani muses, an incredulous look in her eye. 

Harry shrugs and reaches behind his back to close the window gently. “Only about you,”

Alani wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a warm kiss, humming when she feels his strong hands smooth up and down her spine. 

“Missed you,” he whispers against her lips, tickling her sides lightly. 

She giggles and tightens her embrace. “Missed you more,”

Harry kicks off his shoes and follows Alani into her bed, his head tilting when he spots a familiar picture tacked to her ceiling. “Is that—?”

“—An original from my favorite up-and-coming painter, Harry Styles?” she questions, completing his thought. “Why yes, it is. But it’s not for sale, so don’t even think about it,”

“Right next to the O’Keeffe one,” he boasts. “I’m honored,”

“You should be,”

Harry searches his memory to no avail. “Where did you say the original was?” 

“New York Botanical Garden,” Alani murmurs against his neck, fighting the fatigue weighing on her muscles. 

“I’m gonna take you one day,”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he affirms with a feathery kiss to her temple. 

Alani sits up and rests her chin on his chest, peering down at him with sleepy eyes and a sweet smile.

“Can’t wait,”

“I should probably go,” Harry breathes deeply, his own exhaustion settling in. “Let you sleep. I just wanted a good-night kiss,”

“No, stay. I’m not even tired,” Alani pleads. 

“Your droopy eyes say otherwise,”

“So tell me something to keep me awake,”

Harry swallows. He searches his brain for something to say other than the news that he isn’t ready to break yet. “Like what?”

“Liiiike,” Alani sighs. “Why One Direction broke up,”

“It’s not a very interesting story,”

“I don’t believe you, but whatever. Tell me a secret, then,”

“A secret,” Harry leans in close, the tip of his nose brushing agains the apple of her cheek. “I really wanna kiss you now,”

Alani pulls back the slightest bit to steal a glance at his mouth, already parted enough for her to slot her lips between his. She buries her fingertips in the soft curls at the nape of his neck and the taste of Harry’s spearmint washes over her tongue. His hands brace each side of her neck as he plucks needy kiss after needy kiss from her generous lips. 

“I can’t believe we didn’t even make it a whole day apart,” Alani jokes when they pull apart slowly. 

“It’s after midnight,” Harry mumbles against her skin. “So we kinda did.”

She chuckles and plants a delicate peck to his forehead. “I love the way your mind works.”