IM SORRY DID U SAY YOURE WORKING ON A FIC ABOUT “COP BIG DADDY ELVIS”?!?- please tell us more because this sounds like the greatest thing ever 😭
I did, Mon ami, I did indeed…welcome to the demented 2009, sweaty and non famous cop AU that @eliseinmemphis and myself cooked up in our feral yearnings one night.
Edit: it’s here
Allow me to lay a bit of the setting for us all, and maybe even throw in a few lines from the draft below.
Life is insular when you’ve been born and raised in a trailer park. A little El Paso suburb was never a thriving metropolis, what with its gas stations and dollar stores on the way to nothingness in the desert, but the recession didn’t help none. Your dreams of buying a car that might actually make it above 120 mph and not guzzle your wages in gas is a far off dream when you learn from officer Presley that your entrepreneuring father has been incarnated for racketeering across in Juarez. It’s a shame, a damn shame but it hardly throws a wrench in your life, you were already used to making it however you could. When workin’ at the trucker’s club turns into something a lil more illegal and Elvis has his morning waffle ruined by Joe Esposito yacking about the powers of your pink tongue…he feels a little responsible for leaving you without a father figure. He’s got top notch swamp coolers in his trailer, plenty of food and tiger figurines out front -and he’s got an interest in fast things, just like you.
You could do worse than shack up with such a fella; not that he’s offerin’ but you can tell by the flicker in his eye and the smirk of his lips that he’s as susceptible as the next guy watching you on the pole. Except this sweet, world weary cynic just might screw your gooey insides up worse than any threat or ogle from another man.
Snippet:
“Well, well officer Presley, finally got persnickety about laws, have ya?” you observed to yourself with a grin as you watched the handsome man swagger towards you along the white line in your side mirror, tugging at his pants as he neared, trying to shimmy the article of clothing a little higher but is impeded by his belt, stopped by his sizable belly, his holster and buckle sitting under the bulge of it.
Your mouth watered. It had been a year or two since you saw him last. He was always built, intimidating to all the stupid rascals he keeps in line along the border, but now he had become outright fat and his khaki shirt pulled apart between each button. Yet when he came up to your window, that little boy grin was still gracing one of the most exquisite faces known to man, and his voice was tender and playful when he greeted you, just as you once recalled. You could see his sweaty hair, matted on his chest and belly between the gaps, his underarms had massive pit stains, doubly apparent thanks to the light color of his police uniform.
Your smile had something of the she-wolf in it as you greeted him, sniffing the air in hopes of catching a whiff as he leaned on your window frame, nearly crowding you from outside. “Hey Miss Sweet Cheeks,” he greets, “you know why ya been pulled over?”
“Haven't got a clue, officer.” You stated the truth and enjoyed the way his title rolled off your tongue in a bantering way. It was easy.
Officer, officer. Somebody important and authoritative. No sir, yes sir, Officer.
His left eyebrow quirked and you wondered what he looked like at twenty five, how devastating that expression would have been before his wound and his meds and the water retention. Whatever power it may have once held, it holds nothing to this slightly bemused, slightly cynical world weariness that shows in his every expression now, that had a twitch of an eyebrow making you feel a fool. “You’re goin’ seventy in a forty five, Miss.” his tone was patient even as his face suggested he’d like to tan your hide for being so reckless. “Reckless endangerment of others, and yourself,” he quoted sternly, “it ain’t no small matter and I don’t countenance it on my highway.”
Gosh, you just loved it when he laid claim to government property like highways and interstates. It helped you smile meekly at him and nod.
“Sorry officer, I got lax.” You purred, batting your eyes and you could see the heavy flap of their coal coated weight in your periphery. “I’ve seen you lettin’ me flyby on the interstate. I guess I thought…”
Ughhh I'm so nervous. I just booked a Cameo video request from George to ask Jayden a couple of questions. But now I'm scared and feeling nauseous that I made things weird by trying to do a PS note to Jayden letting him know he's a great guy, and that there are those of us who appreciate him. And that he hopefully has much kinder interactions in the future.
Which probably sounds like a weird thing to be nervous but ggghgxghcfhhgfgdfggg.
Sorry for the late reply!! Gameoden week had me literally thinking of nothing else
You've probably already gotten your cameo by now, hope it was everything you wanted it to be!
Imo it's always nice to hear kind words like that, as long as you were polite and chill about it, and I'm assuming you were, then I'm sure it wasn't seen as weird!
Yoongi needs his damn face kicked in. Like how is he fit enough to take the kids but creeping with a mistress? Plus both the twins and Nadia are in technical 2 parent households, I smell some bullshit with that 😤 I’m ready to run him a major fade.
Yoongi ain’t shit and we been knew. It’s always his way or the highway but when shit goes wrong it’s never his fault. Let’s all jump him
Constantly checking if your Cop BDE hasnt been poster yet 🤩🤞🏻
Oh you darling, I’ve got 9k words written and just need a little bit of ending dialogue and tone to do me a favor and cooperate and yet -no such luck. I can’t wait until y’all can read it, and I’m pretty upset I can’t force it out yet but it’ll come in its time. Until then it means the world to me that you’re so eager, thank you for that!
Here’s a little more of a taste as a tease treat 🌚
“You get over here!” the approaching figure came into view, finally silhouetted by his own lights as he stalked towards you wearing a leather trench coat like some noir villain.
It would be a lie to say you breathed easier when you recognized Officer Presley’s commanding baritone.
“Shit shit shit.” you chanted beneath your breath at how riled he sounded and his right hand started making angry gestures for you to approach as he himself closed the distance with a deceptively fast gait.
“Hey, get your ass over here, I called you.” he yelled far more loudly than necessary with his massive hands already closing around your wrists, you didn’t even think to make a run for it, where exactly in the world was a kinder place to turn to than this angry law officer who always nosed in your business too much? “Get, get over here.” he repeated with a yank and tugged you stumbling over your flip flops to his squad car.
He bent you over the hood, just like you’d dreamed of more than a few times and you felt the heat of the headlight against your thigh as your shoulders got twisted back. “-solicitation,” he was pronouncing and your heart sank at the realization he had caught you after your promise to be good, “prostitution-“ the cold clamp of a handcuff on your wrist had none of the rebel thrill you once imagined, it was terrifying and you whimpered pathetically at the thought that you’d expended his patience, that maybe your flirty banters had been one sided and he really was fed up with you.
“Officer-“ you begged with your cheek smashed to the hood.
Some guy had walked up, actually being a good citizen and concerned about the manhandling. It took one flash of Officer Presley’s badge for the guy to back away with a mere “you at least gonna read her the rights, man?”, throwing concerned looks over his shoulder. Maybe he’d been a tipper, you didn’t recall one face from another unless they were awfully ugly or skinny.
“Yeah, yeah I’ll read you your rights, you got the goddamn right to remain silent-“ Officer Presley was struggling with the other cuff and his weight on your lower back made you wheeze just as he was short of breath. He was awfully worked up, huffily trying to clasp the cuffs and slurring your Miranda rights carelessly for so staunch a believer in laws and precepts.
When he succeeded and stood you upright you craned your neck to look at his sweaty face behind you, his eyes were wild and his hair disheveled like he’d run his hands through it a million times tonight. He looked a bit obsessed with his nose flaring like that, his speech slurring and his usual decorum completely goners.
“Are you drunk?” you balked in alarm as he trundled you into the backseat.
