#austin!elvis x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelinajoulie · 2 years

Text

At his mercy.

Rating: 18+ MDNI. You read at your own risk.

Pairing: dom!Austin Butler x shy!girlfriend!reader

Summary: Austin fucks you in his ‘The late late show’ suit.

Warnings: NSFW. SMUT. this is PURE FILTH; age gap; austin is definitely a DOM in this (you can't tell me otherwise); swearing; pet names; fingers sucking; oral (m receiving); size kink; praise kink; austin referring to himself as daddy (just twice); unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it); creampie; cockwarming (sorta??).

a/n: English is not my first language, this is the first time I’ve written from Italian to English and after two months of writing and translating this work I really don't know what came out, so please forgive any mistake✨ leave a comment down here and let me know what you think✨

Enjoy!

It's late at night, the lights outside are already out, and the street lamps are the only ones left to light the wet road while everything around is sleeping and waiting for a new day to come. Not a sound, not a noise is bothering the atmosphere outside except for the sweet rustles of trees on the street as a black Range Rover nears the driveway.

Shortly after, the sudden noise of a door opening makes you skip a beat, taking you off-guard and waking you from your sleep. He is back.

Your eyelids open slowly and you instinctively look at the alarm on the nightstand. 1:30 am.

"As usual," you think.

It takes you a little to realize that you fell asleep too early and didn't wait awake for him— as you always do, but you had a very stressful day at college and you couldn't help yourself to give in to the comfy bed beneath you.

So you decide to wait for him to make his way into the bedroom before you can close your eyes again.

You hear him from upstairs while he tosses the keys on the side table at the entrance, then a series of muffled noises follow.

And then, again, silence.

You feel your eyes getting heavy and you know that you'll fall asleep soon. But not without him.

And noticing he's still not gone upstairs yet you decide to get down to him.

You rise from the bed and a breath of wind wraps around your shoulders as soon as the blanket leaves your body, leading you to wear your white satin robe before going downstairs.

Your bare feet meet every cold step unnoticeably, the high temperature difference between the two floors causing you to shrug.

You're searching for him, your eyes are looking at every corner of the living room while waiting to catch his figure until your feet finally touch the ground.

You see him.

Standing in front of the cupboard against the wall, bottle in his hand as he pours himself a large glass of whiskey.

Austin.

He is wearing a navy blue pinstripe suit from Prada that perfectly matches his blue eyes, the jacket left open to reveal a black mesh shirt, half undone and barely covering his toned, tanned chest.

It suits him heavenly.

His eyes look up to meet yours as soon as he feels your presence.

“Hey” he murmurs in a low and raspy voice.

“Hi” you respond and get closer to him, trying to greet him properly.

Seeing you lean in he puts the bottle back in its place and in no time you feel his arm around your waist. Austin lowers his head for his lips to meet yours in a chaste and tender kiss, the first one after an entire day away from each other.

Your hand travels up his spine, reaching the nape of his neck and starting caressing it, your fingers sneaking between his hair gently as you hold yourself closer to his chest. His body is so warm against yours, his warmth filling your heart completely and making you feel safe in the tight grip of his strong arms.

You’ve missed him so much.

The last period has been very exhausting for him, every day passes between interviews, photoshoots and premieres and he's terribly busy, and considering that you too have your things to do with college and all, you're both forced to be apart from each other. But despite all of this, you always try to do your best to support him, following him at the events when possible or watching him on TV, waiting for him until he gets home— like you should've done today too.

Soon your lips move away with a tiny 'pop' and your eyes meet, a shy smile appearing on both of your faces.

“How was your day?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Great, just a lil tiring” he sighs, caressing your hip gently “have you seen the show?”

You nod without hesitation.

“Of course I did,” a sense of pride overwhelms you seeing him smile slightly at your obviousness “just for you.”

“Really?” he grins, pretending to be surprised as his eyes look down at yours and you nod again.

“Yeah”

“Good girl” he places two of his fingers under your chin, lifting it up for your lips to meet his again in a quick kiss before he pulls away from you and takes the full glass of whiskey in his hand.

You shudder thinking about the pet name.

Good girl...

“And what about you? How was college today?”

Your gaze never leaves him, following each one of his movements while he reaches the couch and takes a seat between the black leather cushions. A shiver runs down your spine, stopping right on your lower stomach. Your mind gets fuzzy, distracting you from his question.

Legs wide apart, broad shoulders resting on the back of the sofa, his right hand on his knee and thigh as the left one brings the edge of the glass towards his mouth, needing a sip. The bitter and yellowish liquid runs down his throat, and his eyes shut just for a second until he swallows it, licking his plump lips after.

You feel yourself throb around nothing at the sight of him manspreading, and your thighs instantly rub together at the thought of every single time you've seen him doing that same thing: eyes closed, lips and tongue wet— not from whiskey.

You don't know why, you don't even know how to explain it to yourself, but seeing him like this sparked something inside you since you saw him on ‘The Late Late Show’ tonight. Something able to keep your mouth shut and your eyes glued to him.

He looks so confident. So dominant. So powerful. Right now, he could move mountains at his pleasure just by lifting a finger if he only wanted to.

And that damn suit... God, you want to sit on his lap so bad.

You'd do it immediately if only you weren't so shy to stand still at your place, merely biting at your lower lip while fantasizing about the mighty man in front of you, a gesture so simple but not enough to go unnoticed— not to him. Not to Austin.

His icy eyes linger on you again and this is the exact moment where you come back to reality and blush.

“What's up?” your awkwardness leads you to open your mouth and talk before you can remember a very important detail.

You still haven't answered his question.

“I asked you” he emphasizes, his tone sharp and deep as he takes in another sip and his tongue runs over his lips to wipe them more slowly and languidly than before, never taking his eyes off of yours “how was college today, angel?”

A mischievous grin appears on his face, the name that always knew how to make your stomach twirl makes you understand everything.

You got caught.

“G-good...” you stutter, coughing slightly as your cheeks are on fire for both arousal and embarrassment in front of that one clear consciousness.

You have a lot on your mind at the moment, a thousand thoughts are running through your head and Austin can read every single one of them.

And you know that he can, you know that he knows what you're thinking about.

Austin knows everything about you.

Because he knows you too well.

He can see from a mile away that something inside you snapped. Your body language is enough to let him know what you want and what you need.

He's tired, the only thing he needs at the moment is to finish his drink, take his clothes off and go to sleep with you, but seeing you wearing nothing but that white silk robe that barely covers your thighs as you bashfully bite your lip, thinking about all the shameless things you want him to do to you, is enough to drive him crazy too.

Because he'll never get enough of you.

He lifts his right hand and two of his fingers gesture you to get close.

“C'mere” his order is like liquid gold for you. You walk towards him without blinking, reaching the couch, stepping in front of him as if you've been waiting to all day.

Austin quickly swallows the last drop of whiskey, leaving the now empty glass on the table before grabbing your wrist and putting you between his spread legs.

His fingers manage to undo the tight bow of your robe, taking it off of you to reveal a lovely black satin nightie under it, one of the many he bought you to make up for the many others he ripped off of your body: soft to the touch, lightweight, with thin stripes and lace hems, short enough to leave your ass exposed.

No doubt that it's his favorite one. You're a goddess in it.

His forefinger traces a line up your thigh and reaches the hem of your nightie, your cheeks reddening as soon as he lifts it up, giving you goosebumps.

Austin feels his cock throb in his pants at the sight.

You aren't wearing panties. As he wished.

“No panties, mh?” you shook your head no, feeling the heat starting to pool right on your bare center and your heart pounding in your chest.

You feel so exposed under his touch, so weak, so small, so vulnerable at the feeling of your skin burning under his lingering hot gaze. Your body is completely at his mercy, poorly covered by that tiny piece of fabric while Austin still has his suit on, fully clothed from head to toe, looking at you like an uncompromising master who's thinking about the right treat for his good submissive. And in the darkest and deepest part of yourself, you're loving it.

You love that he always wants to be in control. You love being controlled by him.

At the moment you just want to follow his rules, please him, worship him, be punished if needed, because you want to be a good girl for him and him only.

“Get on your knees, angel.” and when his order comes, you can do nothing more than obey.

Your knees fall to the floor with a soft thud, hands anchored on his thick thighs as you're face to face with his crotch.

Austin's fingers are under your chin again, a gentle reminder for you to pull your gaze up to his face, forcing you to look straight into his eyes.

His baby blues are darkened, filled with craving and lust as they meet your shy and innocent ones waiting for mercy, for him to choose their fate and what is better for them.

Like an angel at God's feet.

“You're such a good little girl for me, you know this?” his voice gets deeper enough to make you feel soaked as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

“So submissive” he praises you in a whisper, his calloused digits moving to caress your cheek, allowing you to surrender to his touch by resting your head on his thigh.

“So responsive” the intense feeling of the cold gold of his rings hits your warm skin and your spine tingles.

His voice is so soft, yet so firm while he praises you that a weak moan leaves your parted lips, Austin taking advantage of it to shove two of his long fingers in your mouth. You know what to do so you embrace them with no hesitation and start sucking, wrapping your lips and tongue around his knuckles as the metallic taste grows strong in your mouth.

“So greedy...”

You are a vision to him, you look so tempting that his hand falls on his crotch to palm himself, his growing erection begging to be freed from his slacks and swallowed up by your throat.

“Bet your pretty little head's just thinking about one thing since I came home, doesn't it?” you nod frantically, his wet digits still in your mouth before he retracts them.

“Use your words.” authority drips from his tone and you sigh.

“Y-yes...” not enough.

“Yes what, angel?” your head lowers again in front of his request but he holds you still in place, grabbing your jaw “Look at me”

“I...” words get stuck in your throat, too shy to let them slip out easily.

“C'mon, don't be shy. Wanna hear you say it” he spurs “what's on your mind?”

Your heart keeps pounding as never before, and at this point, you don't even know how but you say it.

“I want your cock.”

“And where do you want it, angel?” he smirks as he adjusts himself between the cushions, your thighs clenching together to hide the wetness between them.

You love everything about him and the thing you love most is that he's able to read your mind without talking, but right now it seems like he has forgotten about this ability of his own. And you're hating him for this.

Because you know he's doing it on purpose.

He wants to hear your voice.

He wants to hear you beg.

He wants to hear your innocent mouth tell him the dirty things you want from him, the things he knows that make you feel all small and weak.

For this reason you swallow thickly, and gasping with your heart on your sleeve, you answer.

“In m-my mouth.”

“Then take it.” his words are the only green light you needed to put your shyness aside and leave room for the actions you're going to do in silence.

You reach the fly of his trousers with both hands, unzipping it and slipping between the black fabric of his briefs, freeing his cock.

You take it in your hand, he's already hard as it springs free against his stomach, the contact of your fingers against his weak flesh making him gasp.

You feel him. Long, warm and veiny, the tip already reddened and leaking with precum.

Your mouth waters at the sight. You need to make him feel good so bad.

You sit better on your own thighs, adjusting yourself to avoid the feeling of your knees pressing against the carpet before running your hand along his shaft.

Your strokes are slow and gentle, your fingers applying a small amount of pressure, making him breathe heavily.

“Angel...” he's so eager to feel you, the way his hips are bucking up to meet your strokes is silently proving it. So you decide to indulge him.

You lean forward and your lips start kissing his length from the base to the tip. You tease his slit with your thumb before starting to leave kitten licks on his head, feeling his salty taste exploding on your taste buds.

“Mmm, little one...” a deep groan falls from his lips and goes straight to your soaked center, making you shudder in your place “I love feeling your mouth on my cock...”

He seems so much weaker than before, and a strong sense of power washes over you.

“Fuck...” he swears, adjusting the blonde locks falling on his forehead.

The sensation of your warm mouth around his girth already sending him into a state of pure bliss “I'm not going to last long”.

You take a deep breath through your nose and start sucking, slowly moving your head up and down his cock as far as you can, trying your best to please him. His hand ends behind your head, his fingers holding you close to him as he'd never let you go.

“Yes, baby” he grunts “you feel so good”

Arousal is growing more and more inside of you, your pussy getting wetter as juices start flowing out of you because of hearing him moan.

You feel so bold right now, a sense of euphoria takes over you all of a sudden and makes you grind uncontrollably, searching for friction to ease the ache between your thighs while your head bobs faster around him.

“Yes, just like that, keep going baby...” you do as you're told. You keep sucking, and Austin's grip between your hair tightens.

The cool metal of his rings presses against the nape of your neck, his knuckles turning white and his protruding veins popping out as he applies more pressure to guide your hips at his own pace, making you feel trapped under his grip— under his control.

Right now you're the one giving him pleasure but it doesn't matter. He'll always know how to control you and be in charge.

Your throat is becoming sore and dry, some locks are covering your sweaty forehead and falling on his pubic bone as little tears are forming at the corners of your eyes.

You're a complete mess.

“My pretty little angel- shit, I'm going to fuck your pussy so good” his promise hits you right at your core and a choked moan escapes from your lips, the vibration is so intense against the head of his cock that he jerks frantically.

“Oh god!” his eyebrows furrow, his tight grip around your neck forces you to swallow more of him until he's hitting the back of your throat.

You can't take it anymore. You pull away from him, your fingers never stopping to rub his cock. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you breathe feverishly, searching for air to fill your lungs but Austin is quicker than any move you can make and leans toward your lips.

“Wanna cum inside you.” he tugs you into his mouth hungrily and you moan in both surprise and excitement. You are both panting at the same pace, his tongue slides into your wide-open mouth starting a steamy make-out session where your lips crash between grunts and bite each other without mercy.

Austin moves both his hands on your covered back and you sit up to climb on top of him. Your legs surround his thick thighs and your hands run everywhere on his sweaty chest and around his neck.

“I love you” he breathes on your lips, between heated kisses “so much”

“I love you too, Aus- ah!�� his throbbing cock pushes against your soaked folds, making you gasp and jolt. The thrill is too much, you're so desperate that you start grinding against him, searching for friction to stop the hundreds of shocks running down your spine and hitting your womanhood repeatedly.

Your skin burns under his touch. You want him. You need him. You crave him.

And he knows it.

His hand stops on your asscheek, underneath the fabric of your nightie as his teeth keep biting your bottom lip voraciously, his fingers squeezing your flesh before grasping the hem of your nightie.

Austin takes it off of you and tosses it to the side.

Now you're fully naked on his lap, your breasts are pressed against his half-covered chest and your stomach shakes at the sensation of being so exposed while he's overdressed.

He leans forward a bit enough to bring his hands behind his back and take off his jacket.

“No!” your voice leaves your throat in a worried shriek, bringing out a primal emotion hidden in the deepest part of you.

Austin halts and looks you in the eyes, urging you to give him reasons. You blush.

You can't run away.

“L-leave it on...” you swallow thickly, hair falling on your face, hiding your awkwardness from him. Right now you're ashamed to death for this implied confession and his silence is not helping to ease your feeling.

He simply keeps staring at you, with those damned eyes that know how to make you melt, and without saying a word he kisses you again.

His tongue hungrily pushes itself into your mouth, giving you goosebumps as his fingers slide down straight between your folds, coating in your juices.

Now he can feel it.

“Fuck, you're dripping” his touch is so slight and lasts only for a moment, making you moan against his lips "all this wet just for sucking daddy's cock and seeing him in this suit, mh?"

“Please, Aus...”

“Who knew a stupid suit would make my little girl so eager?”

You don't answer and your shyness seems to no longer exist.

You just keep grinding against him, more desperate than ever while his tip rubs against your throbbing clit; he grasps his cock with his hand, adjusting himself on the couch and lining up with your slit, teasing it as your heart aches in eagerness and you can do nothing more than keep begging him shamelessly.

Hearing you beg is making him crazy, he swears he could stand still for hours only to hear you beg with your tear-filled eyes, but right now he just wants you too much to do it.

“Please, I need you”

You don't need to say anything else. His tip pushes inside your cunt and right after he grips your waist forcefully. His entire length slides inside you slowly, your mouth curving in a perfect 'o' from which nothing comes out as you pull away from his lips. Your breath hitches as he makes you sink onto him until you feel his pubic bone hitting against your swollen clit.

You're stuck, unable to breathe. You squeeze your eyes shout and cry out.

“Oh!” you feel so full. Full of him.

He gives you a few seconds to get used to his presence inside you and a heavy breath releases from his chest.

“Shit, you're so tight” he curses under his breath, bottom lip between his sparkling teeth and eyes closed for pleasure.

And then he starts guiding you onto him and you let yourself get carried by his hands, feeble like jelly as you meet his thrusts, moving slowly, moaning weakly.

“Aus” you whimper, each one of your moves against him only stretching you open more.

“Shh angel, you can handle it” he coos softly in your ear, leaving sweet kisses behind your lobe, helping you to ease the pain.

Your thighs are trembling as they wrap around his and your fingers slide between his blonde locks, trying to hold him closer than ever.

From this position, you can feel him completely. Every inch, curve, vein, and single part of him is inside you to the brim and is filling you perfectly with a combination of pain and pleasure that only Austin can give you.

You open your eyes and look at him. He's already staring at you and now your gazes lock together, making you both feel more connected with your soul than just your bodies and skin.

Your breaths mingle, your lips only a few inches distant from each other and ready to touch again with each thrust.

“You're taking me so well” he murmurs.

His forehead is sweaty, his lips are plump and red like yours, his jaw clenching as he watches you fall apart on his cock and babble something in response before moaning, struggling to take him.

You feel that familiar coil growing in you, your walls clench around his girth and you feel the base of your stomach burn every time his tip caresses your cervix.

It's too much for you. You stop, ready to surrender to his touch, but Austin holds you in place.

“Ah-ah. Stay still, pretty girl.” his fingers force you to sit straight, impaling you more and more on his cock.

“I-i can't...”

“C'mon little one, don't be a brat” he warns you as he starts guiding your hips again, with slow but intense strokes, the stimulation leading a whine to escape your lips before you stop again.

“Hmmph... t-too much...” you babble, it's the only thing you're barely able to say. You can't even talk.

It's so good, you just wish you had the strength to ride him faster but his cock's hitting you so deep you swear you could die in his arms.

Suddenly something draws his attention and forces him to look down.

You feel his hand press on your belly and you gasp in surprise. So you lower your head as well and see the outline of his cock poking out of your stomach.

The vision makes his cock twitch and your walls squeeze around him. He's in your guts.

“God, you look so hot like this” his gaze is burning on your skin, and you can say he definitely loves the sight in front of him. His pupils are dilated, and his breath is getting heavier. He's addicted “Small, desperate, and full of my cock”

You moan hard, turned on by his words and seeing how much he's going deep inside you with every stroke.

“‘s so deep inside you, uh?” he mocks you, his thumb rubbing your tummy as your eyes meet each other again.

“Y-yes! S-so deep” hearing your voice cracked and desperate leads him to one conclusion.

“Think you need daddy's help” suddenly his grip on your flesh tightens and with no warning he pushes you down onto him brutally, slamming his cock into you, bucking his hips upwards to start thrusting deeper, harder.

In a matter of seconds, your nails dig into the back of his hands and you scream, tilting your head back in pleasure.

“Aus- oh, god!” you moan louder, your mouth wide open as ecstasy takes over you, leading you to shake uncontrollably against his hips, making him grunt and moan.

“Keep moving, angel, don't stop...” he whispers as you try to follow his orders as far as your body permits you.

His cock is buried in you, he is fucking you so good you're barely able to move properly.

“Yes, just like that, baby, you're so good” his words keep hitting at your core, only spurring you to push yourself to your own limits as he starts leaving wet kisses on your throat “My good girl...”

"Please, please, please!" the fire inside you is ready to burst, your peak is getting closer and you want more.

“You wanna cum, angel?”

“Yes, yes please, n-need to cum!” hot tears start streaming down your cheeks and you moan again, again and again, scratching his hands and leaving bruises on his knuckles.

Everything seems to be so intense. Sweat is soaking your bodies, immersing you both in a hot-as-hell shower. The wet sound of bones and skins slapping floods your ears, your juices flowing down your thighs ruining the fine fabric of his expensive trousers.

You're so close and so is he. You feel in heaven.

“Then cum baby, cum around my cock” his voice shakes you inside, his tip hits that sweet spot in you and your vision goes blurry.

“Austin!” you cry out, your throat rips apart for the strength of your climax. Your orgasm washes over you and you convulse, the shocks running through your body are too strong and leave you powerless as you collapse on his chest.

“Fucking god” soon a growl of satisfaction slips from his throat, and his abdomen tightens underneath you. His grip loosens, thick ropes of his white cum spill inside you and paint your walls, making you shiver.

The room is now filled with silence, interrupted every now and then by the racing breaths escaping from both of your lungs.

You're exhausted.

“You did so good, angel, so good” he starts caressing your head gently, his praises warming your heart as you try to recover from the passionate fuck you two just had, but before you can say anything he picks you up and gets off the couch.

You whimper in surprise, finding the strenght to tie your legs and arms around the soft fabric of his suit as Austin's cock is still hard inside you.

“Let's go t' bed, baby” he announces, a wicked grin crossing his face “Wanna see how deep I can fill this pussy if I let you ride me on the mattress”

a/n: okay sooo… what do you think? would you like to read anything else? i got five or six ideas to write in my drafts already 👀

Tag-list: @pennyroyalcreep @bcofl0ve @houndogsblog @gigisworldsstuff @emmaolsen @cryingabtab @slowsweetlove @fuckhoes1123 @cchl @auranightangle @spirited-away-to-mandalore @donnamarie23 @ab4eva @dancer4j @kibumslatina @denised916 @faeolwen @alqvarde @lilmisswoo93 @oldermenluverrr @eliseinmemphis @purejasmine @lillypink @sournatromanoff @lukedorkyhemmings @claudia-barnes @bo-burnhxm @lilac-presley @onlyangelssing @amorx

(the tag list is OPEN, comment down here if you wanna be added!)

3K notes · View notes

mamasturn · 4 months

Text

send you away, major gale cleven

pairing: major gale cleven (masters of the air) x black fem oc (eden marie cleven)

content: eden is anxious about having to be separated from her husband when he reveals that he has to serve in England.

an: I was burnt out from writing elvis content, but, now we're on masters of the air content, yay!

“I’m sorry, baby, but I gotta go.” His voice was a song sung by an old church choir; soothing, warm like her mama’s hugs, then it got disruptive. Like the snares of the drums as the song reached a climax. “They need us in England.”

The pained look on her face would be engrained in his mind forever. There would be no way for him to forget it. Her thick eyebrows eat in a deep frown, pushing the rest of her features further down. Her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes, glistened with tears. She refused to blink. The gentle rivers would transition to monstrous waterfalls with no dam to keep them at bay. And her lips, full and swollen from tender kisses, quivered as she clenched her jaw to keep her composure.

“For how long?” Her voice was quiet. Gale sighed heavily and ran a heavy hand through his hair. If he had an answer, he’d give it to her. But, his silence spoke loud enough. She hummed and brushed his hand off her lap and began to trudge upstairs. A defeated sigh came from him.

“E,” Gale called out. He followed her up the wooden steps. “Eden!”

His large hand palmed their bedroom door that threatened to push him out. The lamp on her side of the bed was on, the blankets on the left side were pulled back, and she stood in front of the mounted mirror brushing her freshly pressed hair. Her sad expression had morphed into one like stone. He could see her jaw tick as each second passed.

Gale took slow steps toward her. He could only imagine what she was thinking. Her husband, whom she’d only been married to for six months, was being shipped off to England to assist them in bringing down Germany. How coulde she not be upset?

Gale stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. His advances didn’t keep her from wrapping her hair and tossing her satin scarf around her head. He leaned down, nose brushing against the shell of her ear. Eden’s breath hitched. His lips followed, pecking at the sensitive area below her ear. He pulled at her skin with his teeth and she whimpered softly, her hand falling on top of his. “Gale…” A warning.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said after some time. “I knew what I got into when I married you but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared, Gale!” Finally, she turned to meet his gaze. So big and blue, they were. Filled with sympathy and remorse.

“I knew what I was getting into when I married you, but still! I gotta send my husband away and I don’t want to think about the day where someone could knock on the door telling me--”

Gale shushed her softly and pressed her body against his in a tight embrace. His warm hand gripped her chin and tapped softly. She met his eyes. “So let’s not think about that. I leave in three weeks. We’re gonna focus on making these three weeks worthwhile, and we’ll cross the other bridge when we get to it. But I’ll always be with you one way or another, you know that, darlin’. You do know that, don’t you?”

Eden nodded. Gale raised an eyebrow. “I know, baby.”

Gale hummed and drew invisible lines along the bare skin other thigh. The lace of her slip tickled her leg. His hand inched up slowly. “How about we practice for that final send off?”

Eden smiled knowingly and broke away from him, peeling the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders her bare body on display. “C’mon, we’ve got all night.”

All night indeed.

#black authors #austin butler x reader #austin butler x black!reader #austin butler #writers and authors #black!reader #masters of the air #gale cleven #john egan #curtis biddick #callum turner #major gale cleven #major gale cleven x black!reader #major gale cleven x eden marie cleven #just a little something #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x black!reader #austin!elvis x black!oc #gale cleven x black!reader

310 notes · View notes

cilliansmesoftly · 1 year

Text

all mine

summary: you told austin if he won the golden globe that you’d let him do anything to you.

warnings: smut, oral (fem & male receiving), throat fucking, bondage, orgasm denial, overstimulation, spit, choking, etc.

you lazily sat atop austin’s lap, lips pressed to his neck, breathing heavy and moaning softly every now and then when you ground your hips into his. your lips found their way to his ear where you whispered, “if you win tomorrow night, i’ll let you do anything you want to me.” you ended your sentence with a peck to his lobe and austin strangled out a moan.

“guess i have all the more reason to try and win, don’t i, doll?”

༉‧₊˚✧

your eyes closed, fingers crossed, praying to anything that could hear you.

“…and the award goes to….” the presenter, liticia wright, dragged. your hand was intertwined with austin’s, ready to face whatever happened next.

“austin butler.” your head snapped over to your boyfriend, your other half, his head was bowed and you could tell he was already holding back tears of joy. he put his life into this movie. he risked his relationship with you, his family, his friends, everything. and it was finally paying off.

you, along with everyone at the table stood up in a standing ovation. austin gave his sister, ashley, a hug first with a kiss pressed to her cheek, then to baz who looked like the proudest person to ever exist. and finally, he turned to you. his smile was wide and he hugged the life out of you, whispering his gratitude and love before he pulled away, not without leaving a searing kiss to your lips. you wiped under your eyes, laughing along with ashley.

you watched as he made his way up to the stage, shaking hands with quentin tarantino and brad pitt on his way up. his speech was beautiful and you couldn’t help but to shed a few tears during it. the crowed erupted with applause once again when he was finished and you couldn’t wait to see your boy, your winner, again in a few moments.

༉‧₊˚✧

you and austin attended the after-party for a little while, before you both decided to go home. you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. his hands were either always clutching yours or attached to your waist, never leaving his side for a second.

“you remember our deal?” austin asked you on the way home, hand on your thigh and music playing softly from the radio.

“hm?” your brows furrowed before they shot up in realization. “aren’t you tired?”

“i couldn’t sleep right now even if someone injected melatonin into my veins.” you laughed at this, you were both pretty wired from all the adrenaline and you were getting heated just from the thought of what he’d planned.

“anything you want, baby.” you patted the hand that was on your thigh and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“good thing we’re here, don’t know how much longer i can go without touching you.” you squirmed at his words, cheeks tinting a shade a pink. the driveway seemed to go on for too long and you took your seatbelt off as soon as the car was in park. you stepped out of the car, waiting for austin to join you at your side. he held his award in one hand and reached for yours with his other. the two of you giggling like kids all through the house.

you kicked off your heels at the door, telling austin you were going to the bathroom. you turned down the hallway, hiking up your dress a bit so you didn’t trip and made your way to the master bath. austin came in right after you, seeing you struggle with the clasp of your necklace.

“let me.” he said gently, moving your hair off your neck and his touch sent chills up your spine. he undid the clasp and pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade. you turned to him, your hands going around his neck. he dragged his fingers from your wrists, to your shoulders and settling around your hips. he leaned down, capturing your lips into a sweet kiss. you wanted more, needed more. your hand pushed his head back towards you when he tried to pull away, your tongue tracing his bottom lip and he sighed at the contact, gripping your waist tighter. he wrapped his arms around your frame, hoisting you up onto the counter and your spread your legs for him to stand between them, the kiss never breaking.

“my winner.” you whispered, dragging your kiss to his neck, licking and sucking at every area of skin that was visible to you. “so talented, so fucking gorgeous. let me show you how much you mean to me.” austin groaned at your words, his head leaning back when he felt you slide off the counter, body right against his. you pushed him back just a bit and knelt down in front of him. you untucked his button-up, pulling his belt loose and watching his pants fall to the floor. his cock was begging for attention, hard and up against the waistband of his boxers. you palmed him over the fabric, hearing him hiss above you.

“so pretty, on your knees just for me. all mine. isn’t that right, baby?” austin’s words were quick and hoarse in his throat, neediness coating every syllable.

“all yours, honey.” you confirmed, looking up to make eye contact with the blonde as you tantalizingly pulled his boxers down.

“thought our deal was i could get to do whatever i wanted to you. not the other way around.” austin teased, jaw clenching as you licked the tip.

“you don’t want this?” you asked innocently, pretending to stand up, but austin laid a firm hand on your shoulder to keep you from getting up.

“don’t even fucking think about it.” he gritted and you smiled, going back licking the tip of his cock, leading up to the shaft and taking him wholly. he moaned your name, fingers gathering your hair into a ponytail to keep it out of your face. “let me fuck your throat, darlin’”

you responded by opening your mouth wider, relaxing your throat and letting him thrust into your mouth, you gagged around him, nails digging into his thigh. the pain only pushed him further, thrusting softly into your mouth. you squeezed your legs together, wetness surely seeping out your barely-there underwear. you dropped one of your hands that was on his thigh went to soothe your aching clit, trying to get any sort of pleasure.

“nope, can’t touch yourself yet, honey. wait until i tell you to do something. can you do that?” his tone was mocking and you looked up at him through your lashes, nodding. “such a good girl, i’m already close.” he pushed further into your mouth, thrusting a bit harder. he twitched into your mouth before pulling out and letting you jerk him off. your mouth was open wide, waiting greedily for all he had to give you. you sucked the tip, wrapping your hand around the rest of him and he came with a soft cry of your name, his cum spilling into your mouth and you swallowed all of it, milking his orgasm. “get undressed and get on the bed, i’ll be back in a second.” austin muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, tasting himself on your tongue.

you did as told as quickly as you could, slipping off your dress and drenched underwear. your wardrobe didn’t require you to wear a bra and you thanked the time saver. you walked over to the bed, sitting on your knees and patiently waited for austin to return to you.

it didn’t take long for him to come back to the bedroom, a black box in hand. you scrunched your brows in confusion. he laid the box on the nightstand and stood in front of you, he took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie before taking it off, too. his index finger and thumb gripped your chin and tilted your head up, he leaned down to kiss you. you tried to wrap your arms around him, but he pushed them back.

“no touching, no noises, and do not come until i tell you to. understood, princess?” austin whispered against your lips and your jaw dropped. this was something the two of you have never tried within the years of dating. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you even more heated, legs clenching in a desperate attempt to get any sort of pressure to yourself. you nodded, despite the nerves settled deep within your chest and austin hummed while smiling softly. “so good for me.” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “lay down, honey.”

and you did, you sat back so your head was just below where the headboard started and you laid your head comfortably on the pillow underneath. austin admired the sight in front of him for a few moments. you sprawled out, hair splayed on the pillows, legs smooth bent at the knees, arms outstretched the length of the bed. your lips, plump from all the kissing you two had done tonight, cheeks flushed, and eyes dazzling under the soft glow of the lamps on either side of the bed. you were a dream in austin’s eyes. so perfect and so pretty, he had never met anyone who made him feel the way you make him feel.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you teased, biting away the smile that pulled at your lips. austin chuckled breathlessly and nodded. he grabbed the black box from the nightstand and set it beside you. you watched him take the top off, an array of items were tossed in and your eyes widened at the sensual black silk ties he pulled out. he looked up at you, asking silent confirmations and you nodded slowly.

“arms up, angel.” he knelt down beside you and you put your wrists together and brought them over your head. austin kissed each wrist before tying the silk around them and set them onto the bed post in the middle of the headboard. “not too tight?” you shook your head. he set the top of the box over it and discarded it back to the nightstand. he walked over to the center of the bed, admiring your submissive state, then laying down in front of you. you squirmed, just wanting his mouth, his fingers, anything. “be still.” he said, setting an arm over your hips to stall your movements. he blew onto your bare wetness, you shivered at the cool air. austin slowly, teasingly dragged his tongue up your slit, collecting all the arousal you had and you bit your lip to contain the sounds you so desperately wanted to make. “such a good girl, being so quiet.”

he halted his teasing by closing his lips around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud and moaning around you. he always thought you tasted so good, like fucking candy. he could never get enough of you. he focused his attention on your clit, his fingers finding your entrance and teasing you by prodding the tips of his fingers at your hole, but never going in. you huffed, back arching off the bed as he laughed around your bud, the vibration driving you to near insanity. he finally decided to give in to you, his fingers sinking deep in you and you gasped as he hit your g-spot. if you knew you wouldn’t get in trouble, you’d be almost yelling at the pleasure you were feeling, but you decided to play it safe.

just as quickly as austin dipped his fingers in, he pulled them out, replacing them with his tongue. he licked and slurped like this life depended on it, his nose was brushing your clit and he shook his head back and forth to give it some stimulation. the sensation was all too much and austin could tell you were close by how your breathing shallowed and your back arched higher and higher off the bed.

“don’t cum.” he warned. and you whined, the sound coming out as a choked sob. “you’re doing so good baby, just give me a few more minutes.” you pulled and tugged at the ties around your wrists, you wanted to touch him so badly. you wanted to hold his head to your center until you finished, you wanted to tug his hair how you knew he loved so deeply. you writhed and writhed, your orgasm approaching you faster than you could stop it. austin’s fingers were back inside you, thrusting and scissoring, his mouth was around your clit again. he was moaning around you on purpose, knowing it would bring you closer and closer to tipping off the edge. your thighs were shaking and your wrists were getting sore from how hard you were pulling. you were surprised the bed post didn’t break at the base. “okay, honey. let it go. all over me, on my tongue. can’t wait for you to cum all over my cock, sweet girl.” his words pushed you over the edge. your moans were nearly pornographic, your toes were curled, your head was lulled back against the bed, and austin nearly came just from the scene.

he stood back, taking off his dress shirt. he wiped his mouth off that was cover in your slick, licking his fingers. he leaned over you, skillfully untying the black silk and your hands immediately came to the sides of his face, bringing him down to kiss you. you moaned into it, his tongue pushed its way past your lips and massaged everywhere it could reach.

you could feel austin lining his cock with your entrance and let a drawn out moan as he pushed himself in. his head found solace in the space between your head and shoulder, leaving loving kisses while he waited for you to adjust around him.

“fuck me, austin.” you whispered into his ear, kissing just below it. you pushed his hair back away from his face, admiring his beauty. he was the embodiment of sunshine and you could never get away from him. he was like a drug, a euphoric drug that you never wanted to get sober of. “i’m all yours.”

“all mine.” he confirmed before pulling out and slamming back into you. you tossed your head back, your eyes clenched in pleasure. as he found his pace, you wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts and forcing him deeper into you. he pulled back, sitting on his knees, to look at where you met. he locked in on the sight of your greed pussy taking him whole and you leaned up on your elbows to gaze as well. his hands trailed from your ankle, to your thigh, hoisting it back up around his waist to hit a new angle and fuck, you thought you were going to pass out.

“god, aus. fucking me so good, always take care of me. should win an award for best cock, jesus christ.” you praised through gritted teeth, falling on your back again. austin leaned your other leg back so it was closer to your head. you couldn’t form a single syllable, eyes rolling back and your second orgasm was near. you clenched around him, causing him to groan and tighten his grip on your legs.

“look at this perfect pussy, god. you’re so beautiful. taking me so well, letting me use you.” his words only turned you on further, your clenching was a silent message to him that you were close to coming. “hold out a second, baby. i’m almost there.”

“together?” you question sounded more like a statement and austin nodded, thrusting faster and harder into you. your fingers intertwined with his that was holding your leg. your stomach was churning, the pleasure becoming too much.

“ready?” you nodded, close to screaming. “1, 2, 3–” you felt his warmth fill you up, pushing you over the edge. your entire body was convulsing from the overstimulation, yours and austin’s juices dripping out of you and austin brought his finger up to gather some of it before letting you taste it. he marveled at the sight of you, so fucked out and so, so pretty. he leaned up, telling you to open your mouth and you did. his tongue dragged from your chin to your lips sensually before spitting into your open mouth. you swallowed it and austin smiled. “get up, want you to ride me.”

“aus, i can’t take—” he stopped your words by pressing a kiss to your lips and flipping the two of you over with ease. he was still inside you and the new angle caused him to hilt at your g-spot even sitting still. you huffed out a breath of pleasure, slowly beginning to bounce up and down on him. sounds of skin hitting skin and your wetness made austin impossibly harder and he had to bite his lip to hold off on finishing before you even started to ride him.

you already felt the exhaustion enter your body from all the previous orgasms austin pulled out of you. after the first few seconds, austin notice how you slowed down on him, just beginning to grind over his length. you hummed, mouth closed in a tight line as his tamed patch of hair brushed and tickled your clit. austin watched, wide-eyed, practically drooling over you. he brought his hands to your waist, lifting his hips up to trust into you. you cried out, his tip hitting your spot over and over again. you were seeing stars, your hand went to the headboard for support and austin took the opportunity to kiss, lick, bite, and suck at your tits. so perfect and perky, all his. he would never let you go.

“jesus, austin. fuck! i’m so close, baby.” you moaned, letting your hand travel down to your clit, rubbing circles over the bud. your thighs were spasming, your cunt clenching his cock more and more with every quick thrust.

“me, too, honey. come all over my cock, baby. just for me, give it all to me.” austin grunted into your ear, leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck. you came with cries of his name leaving your lips and that alone brought austin to his edge, eyes clenching shut, teeth grinding against each other, and heart pounding against his chest like a hammer.

you caught your breath, austin still inside you. he was kissing you sweetly, all over your chest, neck, shoulders, anywhere he could reach.

“i love you. my winner.” you grinned, forehead pressed against his.

“i love you, more. with all my heart and then some. all mine, pretty girl.”

#austin x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler smut #austin butler #austin butler imagine #spotify #golden globes #austin!elvis smut #austin butler snl

2K notes · View notes

floralcyanidee · 9 months

Text

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

! please remember, in order to participate in kinktober, you must be 18+ as there will be nsfw material involved. anyone not following these rules will be blocked!

✧ hello! it's that time of year again (: I did my first kinktober last year, and it was a success (and still is), except I never fully finished it ): I'm hoping this year will be different because I'm starting as early as feasibly possible. if you think you've seen this post already from another account, you're correct. that's my account, except it is currently shadowbanned. so, I made this new account and decided to redo this masterpost as I'll probably be posting kinktober here. also, the prompt list has been edited as 28.08.2023.

✧ here is the taglist form if you'd like to be tagged in my kinktober works! click meee!♥

✧ prompt list is below!

day one. cockwarming with: Cillian Murphy

day two. nipple play with: Jonathan Crane

day three. blood play with: Charlie Walker

day four. orgasm control with: Stu Macher

day five. praise kink with: Mickey Altieri

day six. degradation with: Jonathan Crane

day seven. bondage with: Billy Loomis

day eight. edging with: Ethan Landry

day nine. breeding kink with: Roman Bridger

day ten. mutual masturbation with: Austin Butler

day eleven. throat fucking with: Ethan Landry

day twelve. threesome with: Stu Macher/Billy Loomis

day thirteen. knife kink or gun kink with: Gun Kink/ Tommy Shelby

day fourteen. sex toys with: Cillian Murphy

day fifteen. hate sex with: Jonathan Crane

day sixteen. thigh riding with: Richie Kirsch

day seventeen. sex tape with: Roman Bridger

day eighteen. squirting with: Neil Lewis

day nineteen. public play with: Jackson Rippner

day twenty. voyeurism with: Ethan Landry

day twenty-one. corruption kink with: Jonathan Crane

day twenty-two. daddy kink with: Cillian Murphy

day twenty-three. spanking with: Austin!Elvis

day twenty-four. shower sex with: Mickey Altieri

day twenty-five. roleplay with: Austin Butler

day twenty-six. face sitting with: Raymond Leon

day twenty-seven. dom/sub with: Ethan Landry

day twenty-eight. drunk sex or high sex with: High Sex/Stu Macher

day twenty-nine. phone sex with: Ethan Landry

day thirty. anal sex with: Jackson Rippner

day thirty-one. mommy kink with: Jonathan Crane

971 notes · View notes

foreverdolly · 2 years

Text

wanna play house | protective austin!elvis x reader

this is a continuation of 'my bestest girl', but you do not have to read it first in order to read this one. . . however i implore you to do so.

summary: elvis's mother has been worried sick about your safety during your time on the road with her son. you and elvis brush it off as her just being paranoid, but danger always manages to rear it's ugly head at the worst of times. elvis, seeing you scared and slightly injured, absolutely loses it.

pairings: protective austin!elvis x reader

word count: 7,471

warnings/notes: SMUT! ,violence, elvis beats the shit out of someone for you and it's hot, oral (f receiving), elvis literally worships you as though you are a goddess and i love that for you, you both cry while he eats you out because emotions are high and he's obsessed with you.

masterlist | requests are currently closed !

It had been a pain in the ass to talk the Colonel into letting you come along with him and the band as they performed with Hank Snow for the fair, but Elvis had made it happen. The two of you had only been going out officially for the last couple of weeks, but it was obvious to anyone with eyes that the two of you were disgustingly in love with one another. If you were within eyesight then Elvis was looking at you. If you were in the other room, he was bound to follow after you like a lost dog. If you weren’t around at all, then he was surely thinking about you. It was a never ending cycle, really. You were just as bad off as Elvis was. You always had to be touching him, whether it be your hand in his, your shoulder pressed against him, or even your legs thrown up into his lap. The bandmates were positive that eventual drama would arise, but the two of you always seemed to be in high spirits.

The screaming fans didn’t bother you, not when Elvis went out of his way to let you know that you were the only girl that he truly cared about. Everyone had fallen into a comfortable pattern, you included. “Yes ma’am. I’m makin’ sure he’s eatin’ well.” You twirled the wire of the hotel landline around your finger, watching the ebony haired boy getting dressed out of the corner of your eye. He was buttoning up his white slacks and caught your heady gaze in the mirror. With a wide smile he wordlessly made his way over to you, chuckling under his breath as you quickly reached out, running your free hand over his chest and giving his nipple a teasing squeeze. He playfully swatted your hand away, reaching down to grab his lace shirt off of the queen sized bed the two of you were sharing that night. “I’m just worried to death about the two of you, baby. I don’t want any of those girls hurtin’ him. . . and I know how horrible some boys can be.” Gladys’s love knew no bounds, and you appreciated her for it. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a little though, leaning your hip up against the desk that had been squeezed into the small room.

“I’m keepin’ a very close eye on him, darlin’. You know I wouldn’t ever let anythin’ happen to our boy, right? Besides, we’re out in the country. I’m sure nothin’ bad will happen all the way out here. The scariest thing we’ve seen these last four days have been a couple of drunks.” Elvis chuckled from the bathroom, the sink turning on as he began slicking back his hair. You could already smell his Brylcreem pomade from where you stood across the suite. “Now is he keepin’ a close eye on you? At the end of the day, I know Elvis can hold his own. You’re a different story.” You couldn’t remember a single time that you had felt unsafe thus far on the trip. Really, you knew that she had the propensity to overreact, but she had been going on for the better part of half an hour at this point. You were trying to be patient with her, but you could only take so much. Gladys was worse than your own mother, and you weren’t sure how that feat was even possible. “Mama, I don’t need any sort of protection. I can hold my own! Cross my heart and hope to die.” You could hear her scoff, but Vernon’s low voice whispered on the other end. “Stop holding our youngins hostage. Elvis has got a show to put on.” You had already started walking in the direction of the bathroom, stretching the phone cord as far as it would let you. “Do you want to talk to Elvis before we have to leave?” “Would you put him on? Thank ya, baby.” Elvis held up his wax coated hands to show you that he needed some help, so you pressed the phone against his ear for him.

“Hey, Satnin.” He purred to her, shooting you a small smile before letting his eyes fall down to the counter. You couldn’t hear Gladys’s voice from where you stood, but judging by the way he was nodding his head up and down dully, you were sure that he was getting an earful. “Uh-huh. . . No, I’ve been lookin’ out for her. She stands at the front of all of my shows, mama. I’d die if somethin’ were to happen to her.” You smiled down at the floor, biting at the inside of your cheeks in the hopes of getting your heart back under control- it was fluttering at a maddening pace. “She’s with me every second of the day. She never leaves my sight, I promise ya- He what? Daddy wants to talk to me? Put him on.” Elvis placed his comb down on the side of the sink, licking his lips before looking at himself in the mirror. He must not have liked what he saw because he grimaced, shooting your reflection a goofy look as he waited for his father to get to the phone. “Hello?” A couple of seconds passed before he was rolling his eyes, shaking his head back and forth. “I’d kill em’. Simple as that. I promise you both that I won’t ever let anythin’ happen to her. . . Yeah- Yeah, she is our girl, so imma take good care of her.” He was running the comb back through his hair, tucking a few strands into place absentmindedly. After a few more seconds passed he turned his cheek, pressing his lips up against the receiver and mumbling a quick “love ya too” before giving you a look. You walked back into the hotel room, hanging up the phone before turning to face the bathroom.

“What are they goin’ on about?” You asked, hurriedly getting out your own suitcase so that you could get dressed. You had been on the phone so long with Gladys that you hadn’t had any time to get ready for the concert. Elvis was particular about certain things, and he liked the idea of you guys matching when he performed. If he wore a baby blue shirt, then you wore a baby blue dress. If he was dressed in all black and white- like tonight- then you did as well. You didn’t mind much. It looked wonderful in pictures, and it made you feel even more connected to him. It warmed your heart that he liked not only being a couple, but looking like a couple too. He had always been very particular about the clothes that he wore. Despite the fact that you also came from a working class family, things had never gotten as financially troublesome as it had for the Presleys. Elvis had grown up poor, but he always made a point not to look it. His mother always made sure his clothes were freshly ironed and pressed and that his shoes were always shined.

Elvis had always been a rather particular fellow, and he hadn’t always been celebrated for it. People calling him a “fairy” or “squirrel” didn’t get to him though. Not anymore, at least. He was above the name calling, coming to the conclusion that it said far more about their own character than it did his. He always handled it relatively well back in high school, though he knew that most of the name calling and trash talk stemmed from the fact that the other boys his age were probably just jealous.

“Mama said she’s been havin’ a bad feelin’ about somethin’ lately. They’re both worried about ya, is all.” Elvis had always been over cautious with you, even throughout your friendship. If he didn’t seem worried about it, then you wouldn’t be either. “She’s been a nervous wreck ever since you told her about the Louisiana Hayride. She’s probably just feelin’ a bit anxious.” He hummed his agreeance, a comfortable silence befalling the two of you as you began getting changed. Your dress was a rather scandalous little diddy, what with the rather low cut heart-shaped neckline and the way the hem was just above your knees, showing off your legs. It was something you had purchased for yourself months ago but had been unable to wear due to your parents' rather conservative ways. You pushed your way into the bathroom at the same time that Elvis was finishing up with his hair, his eyes instantly locking on your reflection in the mirror. “Good god almighty.” He mumbled, dropping the comb back onto the counter so that he could turn around and face you. His blue eyes trailed over your smaller frame, his lips parted as he took in the sight of you. Elvis had made it a point to explore every inch of you over the last few weeks. He took his time committing every mole and freckle to memory. He was certain that he could draw you with his eyes closed, and the man could barely sketch a stick figure.

Despite that, every time he made love to you, or even got a glimpse of you, it still felt like the first time. His stomach would fill with butterflies, his palms would start to sweat, and his pants would grow impossibly tight. In all the years that he had known you, never had he seen you in a dress like this. The sweet little babydoll nighties you’d prance around his room in were a completely different story. This was a masterpiece. You were a masterpiece. “You’ve got me sweatin’ worse than a whore in church. God damn it, my girl is so beautiful.” He lifted his hand up to his face, biting down on his knuckle with a small grin. You couldn’t help but blush at the sudden onslaught of compliments, shyly waving him off with a small flick of your wrist. There wasn’t much room in the tiny motel bathroom, so you couldn’t duck away from his arms even if you wanted to. He was quick to pull you towards him, his hands moving over the cinched waistline of the dress, slowly brushing down to run his fingers along the hip. You shivered as you felt his touch against the skin of your thighs.

“How ‘bout we just stay in, hmm? I could tell the Colonel that I got food poisonin’ or somethin’.” It was nearly possible to deny him of anything he wanted, especially when he looked at you like that. Ever so slowly he began backing you up, smiling smugly as you let out a small yelp whenever your back hit the wall behind you. “Let me make love to you, yeah? I’ll make it quick. I promise-” A knock at the door made the both of you jump, but he soon threw his head back with an exasperated groan, his eyes screwed shut. “What is it?” He called, popping his head out of the bathroom door so that the intruder might hear him better. “We’re startin’ to pack the cars up, EP. You two dressed and ready yet?” You bit your lip as you pressed your back tighter against the wall, hoping that the added space between you and your beau might calm the growing heat between your legs. “Shit.” Elvis cursed, giving you an apologetic look before taking a step back from you. He looked down at the front of his trousers, wincing as he noticed that he was visibly hard. He took a couple of seconds to try and adjust himself in a way that wouldn’t make it so obvious, but gave up after a while. “I’m comin’. Give me one second Scotty.” He brushed past you on his way to the door, giving you one last suggestive look before prying his gaze away. He opened the door just a sliver, hiding his bottom half the best he could.

“You don’t even have your shoes on yet. What the hell have you been doin’ this whole time?” Scotty asked exasperatedly, his eyebrows furrowing in slight annoyance. Elvis looked behind him at the cars, wincing as he noticed people were already climbing into their seats or pulling out of the parking lot completely. “We’ve been busy.” He said simply. Scotty looked over Elvis’s shoulder, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed your flushed cheeks. “Doin’ what, exactly?” The dark haired boy didn’t take kindly to the fact that someone else was seeing his girl in such a state, so he was quick to grab the edge of the door, closing it enough so that only his face and a small sliver of the room inside could be visible. “We were busy, alright? I’ll come out in a second. Let me just get my things together.” Scotty threw his hands up in surrender after noticing the look on Elvis’s face, taking two steps back from the door. “Be quick about it. We go on after Snow, and I’m tired of hearin’ the square complain.” Elvis was quick to shut the door, jogging over towards his suitcase so that he could find his shoes. “Baby? Do you mind doin’ my eyes like you have em?” He motioned to his eyes with his finger, flashing you a small smile.

You weren’t about to give your boyfriend a smoky eye, but you hoped he’d be alright with just some eyeliner and mascara. Not that his long lashes needed them anyway. “If we’ve got time, hun.” Your legs still felt a bit weak, what with the heavy petting from earlier, but you managed to walk to your purse so that you could grab your small makeup pouch. Elvis buttoned up his black lace shirt as you gently dragged some dark liner over his upper and bottom lashline, being careful to smear it a little after you were done so that it wouldn’t be too stark against his complexion. “Here, now close your eyes.” You ran the mascara wand through his lashes, cooing softly to him as you realized just how blue it made his eyes look. “And open em.” He obeyed, his hands moving up to grab you softly by your hips as you finished up. “Am I pretty?” He asked with a teasing smile, tilting his chin upwards, which was his way of silently asking for a kiss. You complied, giving him a quick peck before pulling away to nod. “Gorgeous.”

Elvis was the only boy that you had ever met that preferred to be called pretty rather than handsome. He was putty in your hands any time you referred to him as ‘your pretty boy’. Well, who was he kidding? He was always putty in your hands. He would be a liar if he said that he wasn’t used to female attention. He’d say ‘thank you’ with that signature side smile of his- but the grin- it was reserved only for you. The corners of his eyes would crinkle and his nose would scrunch up. It made him look so childlike. So vulnerable, and it was only something that you were allowed to see. You knew good and well that there were certain aspects of Elvis that you would have to share with his fans, but he made sure to reserve the most sacred parts only for you.

“Thank ya, baby.” He mumbled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear before he stood up and off of the bed.

The drive to the fairgrounds was awkward, but Elvis seemed to be the only one that didn’t get the memo. He had one of his hands in your lap, playing subconsciously with the fabric of your dress while he spoke under his breath to you. It was mostly hushed compliments, but the second that the bright lights of the fair became visible he started whispering gentle instructions. “I don’t want ya gettin’ lost in the crowd, alright now? Make your way to the front, just like we practiced. I want to be able to keep my eye on ya the entire time.” The ebony haired man had talked a big game back in the motel room, but you could tell that whatever his mother and father had said to him carried some weight. He seemed a little bit more antsy than he did the previous night. Despite the fact that nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary, you still nodded, allowing him to pull you along through crowds. The closer you two got to the stage, the quicker people began to take notice of him. Girl’s turned their heads, some even going as far as to drop their date’s hand as he passed. He didn’t pay any mind, instead he kept his eyes locked on the stage, trying to find a good place for you to go. “Here, push your way right there.” He leaned in close so that you could hear him over Hank’s singing, pointing with his pinky, his newly purchased ring shining in the bright artificial light. You nodded, smiling against his lips as he gave you one last kiss before jogging to catch up with his band. You were quick to follow instruction, easily maneuvering through the crowd, muttering apologies as men and women turned to glare in your direction.

You weren’t quite sure why, but you were starting to become nervous yourself. It felt like someone was watching you, and had been since you and Elvis passed the admission gates. You anxiously looked over your shoulders, trying to see if there might be anyone you recognized, but alas- nothing. You tried to swallow back the strange sense of dread that was beginning to bubble up in your throat, instead focusing on the stage in front of you. Hank Snow was a talent, but surely wasn’t your cup of tea. His ballads were too slow and shallow for your liking. Too safe. Elvis had been the one to get you hooked on good music way back in high school. You still clapped for Snow whenever he took a bow, flashing him a small smile. You and Elvis had been playing nice with the man. You two had a strong feeling that he didn’t take too kindly to the two of you and the flamboyant way you both decided to live your lives. He was never outwardly rude to you at least. Elvis wasn’t so lucky though.

The second that the forest green suited country singer had stepped off the stage, it was almost as though the entire crowd took a collective breath to steady themselves. You bit the inside of your cheek as a few girls started pushing against your back, your chest and hips pressing uncomfortably against the wooden stage. In a single millisecond the aura had completely shifted. A few older patrons began to walk away from the stage, but it did nothing to lessen the crowd. People began running across the fairgrounds to make it to the stage in time.

Scotty and Bill stepped on stage, dragging their instruments along with them. Girls began gasping, whispering amongst themselves as they waited for Elvis to join them. “Have you seen his picture in the paper? He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!” “My friend lives in Shreveport and saw him at the Louisiana Hayride. She said she’s never seen anything like it.” You couldn’t keep the knowing smirk off of your lips. If they thought he was beautiful from a grainy picture alone, just wait until they saw the way that the music moved him. You pressed your hands against the top of the stage, Scotty and Bill flashing you a quick smile just before the crowd erupted with loud screams. It made your ears ring. Elvis jogged up on stage, guitar in hand. His bare arms flexed as he gently strummed the chords, stepping up to the mic. “It’s an honor to be able to play here for you all tonight.” He called over the loud screams and cries. There was something perversly satisfying about seeing the hold that he had over everyone, knowing good and well that you were the only person that has ever and will ever touch him. Not even in the girl’s wildest fantasies would they ever know what he was truly like behind closed doors. The eyeliner that had the girls swooning? You had put that on him yourself. The soft sheen to his lips? That was the lipstick that had transferred onto him from your mouth.

The girls could hoot and holler all they wanted. You didn’t blame them one bit. You didn’t feel even a little jealous as they began calling his name, begging for even a shred of his attention, because you knew that he was yours. He knew it too. His eyes instantly scanned the crowd, his shoulders visibly relaxing when he finally found your form. After Elvis and the boys had given the crowd a few moments to quiet down, they began playing their first song. The sound of Elvis’s voice and the quick, near violent way he strummed his guitar was unlike anything that you had ever heard before. It had changed something inside of you. You could tell that the crowd was having the exact same reaction as they watched him, swaying to the sound of the music. Some girls looked like they might pass out, their faces going pale and their eyes growing glassy. This was the kind of music that concerned mothers and fathers warned their children about. Rock and roll.

Elvis was rock and roll. It wasn’t just a type of music or a way of dressing for him. It was the way that he lived his life. It was a state of mind. It was a state of being. His hips and feet moved as though he was possessed by God himself. He may as well have been. You could feel the standup bass in your chest, and Elvis’s guitar in your throat. Your blood fizzled like champagne as you watched him, his eyes bluer than a summer sky, his bubblegum pink lips pulled taught against bright white teeth as he screamed into the mic. His eyes moved over the crowd, and suddenly he was on his knees, leaning back to look up at the night sky as his fingers flew over the neck of the guitar.

You couldn’t help yourself as you reached out, no better than the screaming fans as you brushed your fingers over his thigh, needing to touch him. You didn’t know how, but he instantly looked at you, as if he could feel that you were the one touching him. His eyes burned as he took in the expression on your face, his lips curling back into a snarl. Girls distantly screamed behind you as they took in his expression.

Something like this wouldn’t be romantic to some, but you melted against the stage, your torso leaning further against the hardwood. You were sure to have bruises tonight, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You needed to be closer closer closer. Your body ached for him. You could feel his guitar vibrating through you, his heavenly voice bringing back memories of last night. Of how he loved to press his lips against your ear to purr and moan. He wanted you to hear every heavy breath, every gasp, every preen- and as he practically laid himself out on that stage, girls trying to grab at whatever they could, he had never felt more yours. He grabbed your face in his hands for a split second before he was standing back up, moving over to the mic so that he could finish up the song.

By the second song there were at least three pairs of panties on the stage, which both you and Elvis regarded with wide, humor filled smiles.

Elvis sang with a violence that he never let shine through in his everyday life. He got up on that stage and sang for his mama, his daddy, you and God. He belted up to the heavens for the angels to hear. You could feel the damn near desperation as he swayed his body, his hair falling into his eyes, dripping with sweat.

After the third song you felt as though you might faint yourself. You could barely breathe as girls continued to press against you- crushing your ribs against the stage. You were never the type of girl to follow instruction very well, so despite Elvis and even Gladys’s worries, you found yourself slipping through the crowd, breathing hard as you tore your way through the writhing bodies. Your eyes swept over the grounds, and you were quick to make your way over towards a refreshment tent. “Can I just get a cup of water?” The carnie recognized you as Elvis’s girl instantly, smiling as he saw your pink cheeks and shaky hands. You sat down on a nearby picnic table as you greedily gulped down the water. You could hear his voice from across the grounds, tapping your foot along to the beat as you tried to enjoy the last of his performance.

“Whatcha doin’ over here alone?” You jumped as you heard a deep voice sound from right beside you. You had been so wrapped up in the music that you hadn’t even noticed someone approaching you. You blinked, turning around just to make sure that there wasn’t someone else behind you that the man must have been talking to. Alas, you were the only person in the vicinity. “I’m waiting for my boyfriend to get done performing.” You pointed to the stage, slowly placing the cup down on the table just in case you needed to quickly excuse yourself. He sat down beside you anyway, nodding his head slowly. The refreshment tent was a hundred feet away, and you were in an area with barely any lighting. You were beginning to become more aware of the precarious situation that you had somehow put yourself in. “Ah, right. I saw you walkin’ hand in hand with that scrawny musician.” Your eyes quickly narrowed as you stood up and off of the table. “I don’t take kindly to people bad mouthin’ my loved ones, ya understand? If a conversation was what you were lookin’ for, then find it elsewhere.” You spat, pointing over to another populated area. He blinked, seemingly taken aback by your bold nature.

“Woah. . . you sure are loud for a tiny lil thing,” You took a step back as he stood up and off of the table himself, shoving his hands into his pockets as he gave you a once over. “Maybe you shouldn’t go ‘round dressin’ like that if ya don’t want strangers approachin’.” You could have socked the man right in the face. You began shaking with anger, clenching your fists at your sides. “What does my outfit have anythin’ to do with you unnecessarily runnin’ your mouth? Did ya think you insultin’ my boyfriend would make me interested in you? Hah!” You let out a loud, humorless laugh. “Like I said earlier; move along.” You shooed him off, reaching out for your water cup. You let out a scream as he grabbed you roughly by the wrist, your shoulder cracking as he roughly yanked you forward. “Watch yer mouth, girlie.” He spoke to you through clenched teeth, his eyes wide and wild. You swallowed thickly, fear hitting you like a freight train. You could distantly hear your boyfriend working the crowd, your stomach flipping anxiously as you realized he was about to get off stage and realize you weren’t there to greet him.

“Let go of me. Rough housin’ with a lady out in public like this isn’t very gentlemanly.” You tried to yank your sore arm back to your side, but he didn’t let go. He added even more pressure, and you cried out in pain as you realized that he was damn near close to breaking it. “I don’t let women boss me ‘round.” His free hand moved up to your hair, his fingers gripping roughly as he jerked your head back. Was he about to kiss you? Touch you?

You were unable to run now, and so you knew that the only option you had was to get someone’s attention. Anyone’s. “Help!” You screamed, your eyes prickling with tears as you tried to move your head in the man’s hold, hoping to avoid whatever he was planning to do with you. A beat passed before you finally sucked in another breath, screaming again. “Elvis!” Your boyfriend had been speaking into the microphone, but the second that you had called his name he went silent. You could distantly hear a loud clatter and a few females calling out his name, but you were too focused on the older man’s face to pay attention to much else. He was dragging you further into the darkness by your hair, and you stumbled blindly forward, reaching your arms out to push as hard as you could against his chest, even going as far as to bang your fist against his shoulders in the hopes of somehow fighting him off.

It all happened so fast, you didn’t even have time to blink. You stumbled backwards, the breath being knocked from your lungs as you hit the grass. Hard. You could hear a tussle behind you, and you blinked back tears as you slowly sat up. It was like everything was happening in slow motion. The red faced stranger had been pushed back against the picnic table, pinned there, and your boyfriend stood above him, muscles bulging as he gripped him by the front of his shirt, wailing on him with his right arm. Again and again he connected his fist with the man’s face, his teeth clenched, the veins in his arms bulging as he let out a deep, guttural scream. Elvis had somehow, by the grace of god, heard your voice over a hundred screaming girls and came running to your rescue. A loud sob escaped your throat as both relief and pain overcame you. The pitiful sound only spurred him on.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Ya hear me? You’re dead!” Elvis’s deep voice called, a small crowd already beginning to form. You tried to stand up on shaky legs, embarrassment flooding your veins as you realized what kind of a state you were in. “E-Elvis. . . He’s had enough, baby!”

Elvis had been pushed around and beat on his entire life for looking and being the way that he was. Over the years he had learned how to fight. How to win. He might have been smaller than the brute, but it wasn’t the size that mattered in this case. No- it was the skill and ferocity that your boyfriend possessed. That and the white hot rage. Elvis’s eyes were wild as he stared down at him, not letting up even for a second. The man had tried to push back against the ebony haired musician, but the blows to the head had kept him in a dazed state. Elvis’s gaudy golden ring made contact with the man’s temple again and again. The crowd began to part as a few men broke through, moving to try and pull your man off of the assailant. “You’re killin’ him, Elvis! Stop! Please, for the love of God!” At the sound of your distress he was quick to let go, shrugging the men’s hands off of him as he quickly made his way over to you. “Hey, hey. Talk to me darlin’. What happened.” His eyes flickered over your face wildly as he panicked. He stopped himself from reaching out for you when he realized his knuckles were caked in blood, wiping them off on his white pants. He brushed your hair off of your sweaty forehead, pressing his own forehead against your cheek, desperate to have you against him. To hear your breath and feel your heart beating against his chest. You could hear people trying to disperse the crowd, but you paid no mind to them. You kept your eyes locked on Elvis's shoulder as you fought off the urge to cry. “Talk to me, baby. You’re shakin’ like a leaf.” You gulped down deep breaths, finally moving your hands to grip onto his shirt. You rubbed your fingers against the lace, feeling his warm skin beneath. It soothed you. Helped you to stop your panicking.

“EP. You take the car back to the motel. We’ll just ride with Jimmie and Hank back.” You heard Scotty’s voice beside you. Elvis slowly untangled one of his arms from your form, shoving the keys in his now ruined pants. “Let’s get to the car. Can you do that? Can you walk, sweet heart?” He purred, pulling away to look at your face. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, sucking in a hard breath as he noticed your tear caked face and wide teary eyes. His chest began to rise and fall quickly as he took deep breath after deep breath. “I should have gutted him.” You were quick to shake your head, stumbling back as you pulled him with you by his shirt. “L-Let’s just go okay? I wanna go.” You needed to get the hell out of there as fast as you could. Even if someone else had already come by and picked the stranger up. Even if you knew you were now well protected- it didn’t matter. You needed to go back to the motel room so that you could break down without having everybody’s eyes on you. You were sure that this fight would only add to Elvis’s sordid reputation as well. You were. . . you were just mortified. Elvis kept his arm tightly around you as he walked you through the fairgrounds, allowing you to tuck your head into his throat. He continued to mumble sweet words into your ear as the two of you made your way out into the car lot. Elvis helped you into the bright yellow car, going as far as to make sure you were well situated before moving on over to the drivers side.

The car ride was silent. He didn’t even turn on the radio, which was rare for him. You rolled down the window, letting the wind whip your hair back and cool your hot face. By the time the two of you had made it back to the room you had already started to calm down. With the panic and adrenaline now out of your system, you could feel how badly your arm hurt. You kept your mouth shut about it, knowing that Elvis would probably tear the room apart in his haste to find the man responsible. He was being so sweet and tentative towards you, but you could tell that he was barely hanging on to his sanity. He’d always gone out of his way to watch over you. This wasn’t the first guy he’d gotten in a fight with over you. . . but never had it been this bad. Never.

After you had told Elvis the entire story, save for the part where you were sure that you’d torn a muscle in your shoulder, he just sat there on the bed in silence. For a second you were sure that he was going to react with more anger, but you would have been wrong. Your lips parted as you watched his blue eyes fill with tears. After a few seconds he let out a loud sob, his body shaking as he practically caved in on himself. Never in your entire life had you ever seen him so upset. He began rubbing his own arms with his hands, as if to comfort himself, to get himself to stop crying. Not even your own loving hands and soothing words could stop him. His body was wracked with sobs as he pulled his knees up to his chest, pressing his forehead against the tops of his thighs. “Baby? Baby what’s wrong?” You gripped him by the chin, gently leaning his head back so that you could look at him. The mascara had begun running down his cheeks, his eyelashes clumping together. His lip quivered as he tried to get the words out because another loud hiccup shook his shoulders. “I don’t deserve you. I-I can’t live with myself after a-all of that happened.” He wiped at his eyes, only smearing the makeup even more.

If you thought his eyes had looked blue before, now they looked like sapphires.

Burning bright. Burning sad.

“It’s not your fault, hun. None of that was your fault. I-I. . . I moved away from the crowd. I’m the one to blame.” He shook his head, his jaw going slack.

“Are you insane, y/n? You’re my girl. My baby,” He dropped his legs so that he could bang his hand against his chest to emphasize the words. “It’s my job to keep you safe. Keep you takin’ care of. I was up there singin’ like a fool while you were havin’ your hair ripped out of your little head. I promised your daddy. . . your mama that I was goin’ to look after you until the day that i died, and look what happened under my watch.” You could have started crying yourself. He was shakin’, his eyes wide, cheeks stained and streaked with mascara and eyeliner.

If you had thought that he looked like a God up on that stage, now he looked like a fallen angel.

“You couldn’t have known any of that was gonna happen. You did the best that you cou-” “Well my best isn’t damn good enough!” You jerked back as he screamed, watching as his hands moved up to his head, gripping- yanking- at his hair. In front of you sat a man who had spent his whole life doing for others. He financially provided for his parents, even during high school. He worked three jobs just to put food on the table and gas in his daddy’s car, all while counting pennies to buy himself a coke from the corner store. He felt like he had to watch over everyone he loved. That their happiness and safety relied on him.

“You’re perfect and you’re mine.” You reached out, holding him against yourself so tightly that you were sure one of your rib cages were sure to break. ‘Fuck it’, you thought. ‘Let it shatter’. “There isn’t anything you could have done to prevent it, baby. All I can say is that imma be careful from now on. I won’t leave your side. Not ever again.” He was pulling on your clothes, pulling on your hair, clutching you to him like he was scared that you might dissipate into thin air. You let him claw at you- dig his calloused fingers into your soft skin. “Please. Please never leave me. I-I can’t take it.”

If you had ever questioned whether or not Elvis truly loved you, you sure as hell never would again. The man was practically destroying himself over a situation that he had no control over, all because you had gotten hurt. “Never. I’m not goin’ anywhere, darlin’.” That was all he needed to hear. In the blink of an eye he had you pinned down to the bed, his hands clumsily fumbling with the bottom of your dirt stained dress. “E-Elvis! What are you doin’?” You tried grabbing his hands to stop him, but he was a man on a mission. “Let me make it up to you.” Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly as his fingers found your panties. He was tearing them off of you in a second. “T-There’s nothing to make up for! Let me love on you, for Christ’s sake. You need to calm down.” His eyes flickered back up to meet yours, and he sniffled softly, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His eyes were hard, but no longer teary. “I am calm. I just. . . I feel like I can’t breathe if I’m not touchin’ you right now. So let me. . . let me touch you.” Your eyes fluttered as you looked up at him, his gaze hard, bordering on animalistic. It was as if you had been transported back to his show. His hand gripping your face, eyes boring into your own as he moved just for you. You worshiped him just as he worshiped you. Elvis Presley was one of a kind. No one had ever been born like him before, and nobody ever would be even after he was gone. You were sure of it.

He pushed your skirt up and over your hips, kissing down your body as though he could absorb the fear that you had felt earlier. He usually liked to tease you in order to get you worked up, but he didn’t tonight. No- His lips and tongue lapped you up like you were made of honey, and when his eyes flickered up to meet yours from between your legs, he beheld you as if you were some glittery, golden thing. His fingers brushed up your body, cupping your breast through your dress, working your already hardening nipples with his fingers. You cried out, back arching as the pleasure steadily began to build.

He pulled at the neckline of your stained dress, his tongue running all the way up from your entrance to your clit- slow slow slow. His eyebrows furrowed, humming as he tasted you. He cupped your now freed breasts, pinching the nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

You were panting so hard you were sure that you might pass out. Your hand gripped hard at the sheets as he continued to work your clit over with his tongue, his eyes falling shut as he savored you. His thick, long lashes casted shadows on his cheeks. Every once and a while they would flutter, like the beating of a butterfly's wings. In the dull lamp light of the dingy motel room, covered in dirt and grass stains, you felt your heart swell to the point of bursting. Your eyes filled with tears as you stared up at the ceiling, your plush lips parting as a sob ripped from your throat.

You were wracked with both pleasure and a crippling sense of hope. You loved this man more than anything else. You’d love him in this life, in the next life, and into whatever came next.

He was everything.

And on cue the man’s free hand found yours, which had been tangled up in the sheets. He intertwined his fingers, gripping you tight. You weren’t sure why- but that was what pushed you over the edge. You dug the back of your head into the mattress as you climaxed, eyes squeezing shut. His hand moved from your breasts to your thigh, holding it to the side so that he could continue his attack, riding you through your orgasm. He didn’t stop there. Your free hand tangled into his hair, chanting his name as though it was some ancient spell. Your body quivered against him, thighs naturally trying hard to squeeze together, to stop him from continuing to push you over the edge. He didn’t stop, his tongue focusing on your bundle of nerves. Before you knew it you were building up all over again, your cunt dripping with slick and spit, and quite possibly tears. You didn’t know. You didn’t care.

You weren’t even sure if you were speaking coherently when you climaxed for the second time. You thought that you were praising him, telling him how pretty he was and how good, but you couldn’t be sure. His tongue slowly slid down to your entrance, lazily lapping up your cum before he sat up on shaky knees, pupils blown out, cheeks pink.

His lips were shining in the low light, and he was quick to lick them, as if he needed to swallow every last drop of you, like it was some precious nectar. The kind that someone only got to taste once in a lifetime. After he had finally caught his breath he laid down next to you, hanging one of his arms over the side of the bed as he stared at your face. His eyes were impossibly soft, his face still wet with tears. “I love seein’ you like this.” His voice was gruff, thick with lust and something else. Something even more beautiful. “What? All sweaty and quiverin’?” You attempted to tease, but you were still breathing too hard for the joke to really land. “No. . . no-” he raised a hand up, pushing your hair off of your forehead.

“I love seeing you in love with me.”

check out the third chapter of this story !

@bookklover23 @medleyj @idkwhattthisisss @dharnwjs @slutforsomegoodlettuce @crackerbarrelslut @macey234 @nightfiress @keepdrivingrr @melodydior @luvvrrrrr @mymamalife @wwebby657 @shynovelist @ssstrangersblog

4K notes · View notes

missjadesfics · 2 months

Text

“Looking for Trouble”

Austin!Elvis x Reader dividers: @cafekitsune @rookthornesartistry gif credits: @austinbutlermischief Request: Yes Summary: After Elvis is arrested for his rebellious defiance during 'Trouble,' his girlfriend, the reader, bails him out of jail. Warnings: smut 18+ MDNI, praise kink, unprotected p in v sex, wrap it before you tap it, thoughts of being parents, slight breeding kink, oral sex (f receiving), daddy kink Word Count: 2.4k Disclaimer: All rights for the Elvis film and Elvis's music belong to him and Presley Enterprises. Comments likes, and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx

Being the girlfriend of the new rock and roll sensation had its ups and downs. The Colonel would have preferred Elvis break up with Y/n and focus on his singing. But Elvis made it clear; he would date her no matter what anyone says. Y/n grew up with Elvis; his mother and hers were both pregnant at the same time. Y/n and Elvis were born a month apart, Elvis being older. When Vernon went to jail, Y/n’s mother spent every day comforting Gladys while Y/n kept little Elvis company while they played together. Elvis always told her he would become a superhero and save his father, taking him to the Rock of Eternity. When Y/n’s mother passed away, Y/n was only eight years old when Gladys and Vernon were given guardianship and custody of Y/n. Her mother had requested it; she knew the Presleys would care for and love Y/n like she was their own. As time passed, Y/n often indulged Elvis and his dreams, saying she would always be beside him.

As they grew up, Elvis developed a love for singing and African-American music; he and Y/n listened to the music whenever they could. His southern voice turned into something charming and melodic in his teenage years, making Y/n swoon. So one day, Elvis recorded Arthur ‘Big Boy’ Crudrup’s “That’s All Right” at Sun Records; the owner, Sam Phillps, had his voice playing everywhere on radios and records. That is how the Colonel discovered him; he mistook Elvis for a black man, but when he learnt he wasn’t, Elvis would be a Louisana Hayride. The Colonel had successfully convinced Elvis to leave Sun Records and have the Colonel manage his music and his career. And that’s how Elvis ended up where he is today. He had a decision to make: be the new Elvis and make everyone happy. He had to give up the ‘vulgar and lewd music and dance movements’ or break the rules and deal with the consequences later.

“You know what? I think I’m gonna sing a song the Colonel ain’t expecting. I’m gonna show em’ the real Elvis tonight” Elvis adjusted his black jacket Y/n smiled, looking at her boyfriend in the mirror. “Well, honey, I’m looking forward to it.” She grabbed his red tie, making her way over to him. “You look very handsome, Mr. Presley,” she giggled. Elvis turned around, his blue eyes roaming her figure in her new dress as she put on and fixed his tie. “Satnin, you look as beautiful as ever. My pretty girl,” he smiled, holding her face and kissing her sweetly. Y/n moaned lightly into the kiss; her eyes fluttered closed. Elvis pulled away, brushing his nose on hers gently. Elvis chuckled, seeing her eyes still closed. “Am I that good, sweetheart?” he purred, his southern accent sending shivers through her body. Y/n bit her lip, nodding. “Perfect, as always, baby, “ she replied softly. Elvis breathed in before turning to look at himself again in the mirror. He smirked, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s waist and pulling her before him. “Okay, baby girl, time for me to cause some Trouble.” Elvis licked his lips, kissing her cheek Y/n gave him a knowing look. “What have you got planned, Mr Presley?” she raised a brow at his tone. Elvis laughed lightly, whispering, “You’ll see.”

Y/n climbed out of the car as she helped Gladys and walked with her arm looped with hers as Veron walked with them to their seats behind the stage. Elvis stood in the centre, his guitar strapped around his shoulder, listening to the crowd of young men and women cheering for him. Y/n noticed they separated the black people with a rope, keeping them on one side. Y/n felt disgusted as she felt Gladys’s hand grip hers, a sad smile on her face. “I know, baby, they don’t understand. It’s all right, we know, you and Elvis. You both accept everyone for who they are and what they are. You are both different, my special babies. I wish your mama were here to see that, but she will be watching” She kissed Y/n’s head softly as Y/n nodded, smiling at Gladys as Elvis’ voice rang through the microphone. “There’s been a lot of talk about the new Elvis”, the crowd jeered in response. Elvis looked into the crowd and raised his hand.

“And, of course, that other guy”, putting all his fingers down except his pinky finger and bending it jokingly. “You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog, cryin all the ti-” Elvis chuckled into the microphone; he looked up at the speakers, hearing a voice. “There’s a lot of people saying a lot of things. Of course, you gotta listen to the people you love” He turned quickly, glancing at the Colonel, who nodded. Elvis glanced over at Y/n, his smile boarding Y/n mouthed, “Listen to yourself” She blew him a kiss. Elvis’s blue eyes shined at her words; nodding, he held the microphone. “But someone special always reminds me that in the end, you gotta listen to yourself. So I want you to know those New York people ain’t gonna change me none!” Elvis removed his guitar. The Colonel looked confused, and he glanced at Y/n. He knew something was changing, but he just didn’t know what. Elvis walked back to the centre of the stage; he turned to his band. “Trouble”, he said, winking at Y/n; she realised ‘Okay, baby girl, time for me to cause some Trouble’ his earlier words played in her head. “I’m gonna show you what the real Elvis is like tonight!” He shouted, and the crowd cheered.

Elvis raised his hand as the band played the first cord. Elvis looked behind his arm, swinging down. “If you’re looking for Trouble”, the band played the song. Vernon shook his head. “No, no”, he moved in his seat. “You came to the right place. If you’re looking for trouble just look right in my face.” His hips and legs began to move slightly to the rhythm of the music. “I was born standing up, and talking back. My daddy was a green-eyed mountain jack” He raised his hands to his hair, his body swinging back and forth as the music gained momentum. Y/n felt her heart race, watching her man dance and sing, “Because I’m evil, my middle name is misery. Well, I’m evil, so don’t you mess around with me.” Elvis looked at the Colonel, tilting his head and signalling his words as a warning.

As the song continued, the crowd grew crazier as Elvis, too, became entranced by his music and dancing on the stage. The Colonel ordered the police to remove Elvis from the stage. The danger grew as the crowd climbed over one another towards the stage. Elvis fought the police as the Colonel came over to the Presleys and Y/n as the fans began to riot against the police. “Uh, now would be a good time to return to the car” He chuckled nervously. Gladys gripped Y/n’s hand, pulling her to the car and seeing Elvis being pushed into a police car. “ELVIS!” Y/n shouted to her boyfriend, looking in alarm. “Y/n baby, go with mumma, okay, I’ll be alright!” he told her Y/n nodded in understanding. Climbing into the car, the driver drove away as Y/n looked back, seeing the chaos erupt rapidly red fireworks appearing in the sky.

Elvis was kept in jail overnight for his lewd concert; sitting in the cold cell, his knee bounced anxiously. He heard Y/n’s sweet voice ring through the hall. “I have bail money for Mr Presley”, she said to the officers, who reluctantly allowed Elvis to bail as he waited at the door. Tapping the bars, he ran through the open door, running to Y/n and embracing her tightly. “Oh baby, thank you!” He exclaimed, running out of the station to Elvis’s car and quickly driving back to Graceland. When the car engine turned off, Elvis took Y/n in his arms, carrying her inside the house. Closing the door shut quietly, the young lovebirds ran up the stairs into their bedroom.

Elvis locked his door and pulled Y/n in a passionate kiss. Elvis removed his black jacket and red tie. Y/n unzipped her dress, hurriedly throwing it over the chair. Elvis moaned his Adam’s apple bobbing, seeing Y/n in her pretty black lace underwear. His favourite. Elvis admired his girl, his feet carrying him over slowly. Y/n tilted her head slightly upwards to look into his eyes. There wasn’t much height difference, but they both loved that Elvis still had to lean slightly to kiss her. “So beautiful” His husky voice came out like a purr. Elvis swiped his thumb along her bottom lip. His palm cupped her face, and his face lit up at her doe eyes, watching him intently. Elvis kissed Y/n softly, his hand dropping from her cheek; he leaned down and picked her up. Carrying her to his large bed and laying her down, her hands tugged at his black dress shirt. Elvis unbuttoned it slowly. Teasing Y/n, he smirked, seeing her thighs rubbing together, a helpless moan falling from her lips. Her eyes glittered with desire, and her finger reached around her back to unclasp her bra, the straps falling down her shoulders. Throwing the garment away, Elvis’s chest rose and fell heavily, his hands unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Y/n bit her lip, her eyes following Elvis fall to his stomach on the bed, nudging her legs apart.

Y/n dragged her hand down her body and raked them through Elvis’s hair; he grinned at the sensation. His eyes fell closed, kissing her inner thighs; he groaned, feeling her tug on his hair. His hands gripped her last piece of clothing Y/n giggled at his enthusiasm, helping him. “One of these days, baby, Imma just gonna rip em’ right up”, he growled, his voice dropping an octave Y/n sighed. “Baby, don’t go rippin’ anything”, she whined before moaning loudly, feeling Elvis’s tongue on her pussy. Her arousal dripped down onto the bed; Elvis lapped eagerly, his hands intertwined with Y/n’s on either side of her body. “Elvis!” Y/n gasped, her body tensing at the feeling of his tongue delving between her wet folds and sucking her swollen pearl. Elvis Presley was very talented with his tongue, not just gifted in to help his singing, but pussy eating too. Y/n would give him a crown and title for his expertise in providing her waves of pleasure. He could live in between her legs; if he could, he often said it; he’d be so busy he would mumble in her pussy. “I’d die a happy man buried between your legs, little mama. A real happy man” Y/n would always shudder at his words. Y/n was brought back to reality by hearing Elvis growl “Good girl, lettin daddy take care of you”, Y/n moaned, arching her hips. “Always for you, Daddy” Elvis’s blue eyes darted up, seeing Y/n’s face twisted in pleasure, her mouth open, strings of his favourite sounds leaving her lips.

Elvis continued his ministrations. Y/n’s high-pitched whines were a sign that she was close. Elvis knew her like the back of his hand; he could feel her legs begin to shake. Elvis removed one of his hands from hers, entering two fingers inside her, feeling her inner walls clench around his fingers immediately. Y/n’s free hand combed through his ink-black hair, tugging on the roots. “Elvis, honey, please, I’m close”, she cried out Y/n gasped sharply, her body jolting. Elvis curled his fingers, his fingers increasing pace, working Y/n through her climax. Elvis moaned, not letting a drop go to waste, ensuring he was savouring her.

Crawling up her body, Elvis removed his boxer briefs, kissing her chest tenderly, working his way up her neck along her jaw, finally landing on her lips. Elvis breathed heavily, staring into her eyes. “You want me to use protection, baby?” His soft voice made her heart flutter Y/n smiled as she shook her head. “No, I want to feel all of you. I need to feel all of you,” She whispered. Elvis smiled gently; he kissed her cheek delicately before hissing lightly, feeling her walls around him. Y/n moaned and let out a sigh as her arms and legs wrapped around Elvis’s body, pulling him closer to her. “That’s it, little mama, take me so well.” He praised, rocking his hips slowly; the raw feeling of her velvety walls around his cock left him breathless. Normally, they would use protection, but he silently thanked Y/n for changing it this time and not wanting to use protection. He has always loved the idea of being a father; he wants little ones to run around Graceland and play in the grass on sunny days. Sitting inside watching TV on rainy days. The thought of Y/n being a mother. He internally groaned at the image.

Elvis didn’t realise his thrusts grew harder in pace with his desire fueling him. Y/n writhed underneath him, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been thinkin’. Thinkin’ bout’ you and me with a lil one,” he grunted Y/n’s eyes open, studying Elvis’s face contorted in pleasure. She blinked softly, feeling her walls flutter around his cock at the thought of being a mother. “Mhmm” She nodded in response. Elvis held her face. “You like that idea, have ourselves a baby?” He moaned, kissing her throat Y/n whimpered. “Want a baby, Elvis, please.” she begged. Her boyfriend breathed heavily, his head resting against hers. “I love you so much, Y/n. My special girl,” Elvis smiled, his blue eyes filled with love and lust. Y/n’s eyes mirrored his, and both smiled, "I love you too, Elvis." Elvis’s thrusts became uneven. Holding Y/n’s hand beside her head, both felt their peaks crash together. Elvis kissed Y/n; their loud moans muffled, his hips slowing down. Pulling away from the kiss, the young couple giggled lightly. Elvis slowly climbed off Y/n and pulled her to his chest. Kissing her head, he wrapped his arms around her body. Elvis pulled the silk covers over their bodies, and both quietly basked in the afterglow together.

“Thanks for bailing me out of jail, baby. I didn’t really think that through, to be honest.” He let out a hearty laugh. Y/n kissed his chest and leaned on her arm; Y/n gave him a mischievous glint in her eye accompanied by a smirk, whispering against his mouth,

“Oh honey, it was really no Trouble”

#austin butler #smut #fluff #oneshots #austin!elvis #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader smut #elvis presley #request #austin butler x reader smut #austin butler x reader #my fic #missjadesfics

166 notes · View notes

surferblues · 2 years

Text

cherry red blow ! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

dilfelvis! austin butler x fem! reader

notes if you have a problem with 5-10 year age gaps , do not read 😵‍💫 because when i say i like dilfs... i mean DILFS

warnings smut (18+ only, minors dni), unprotected sex, intoxication, dom! elvis, praise, p in v, unestablished relationship, implied age gap, spelling errors, and obviously sexual themes.

Elvis knew who you were. Hell, all he could think about was you. He wasn't the one to get caught up with one girl, he was the type of guy who would sleep with any woman who offered .

And he was Elvis Presley, he could sleep with any woman if he could - all, but you.

He knew best to not fall under the impression you wanted him, that you were doing all that dressing up for him. You were a nanny hired by Priscilla, you made it clear the first day you were hired that you had no ill intentions of ruining the Presley name.

The way you walked around his home with those satin little dresses that covered only so much. The way you covered your lips in that damn cherry red lipstick. He couldn't help to think you knew what you were doing.

You u loved your job. truly, there was good pay, you got on so well with the presley family, the house was big and luxurious. people would kill to be in the position you were in.

You did what you usually did in preparation of coming in for your job. You made sure every hair was in place, you made sure that your clothes came from the finest sellers, and your lips always were layered in that cherry red lipstick.

You had been hired by Priscilla, her hopes of hiring a nanny to watch Lisa from time to time so Elvis and herself could rekindle the faded spark in their relationship.

You had some knowledge of their difficulties of their relationships, as you got front row view to the arguments they shared every night Elvis came home drunk with a groupie under his arm.

The pills, Elvis never being home, and the women were just helping points on why Priscilla found it so difficult to be in a relationship with Elvis. So it was safe to say you weren't surprised when Priscilla packed up her things and left Elvis, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

A part of you was relieved when you found out Elvis was a single man, another part of you was worried about it. Elvis always made it clear he went for younger girls, and with the ten year age gap between the two of you - you knew he had to think of you in such a dirty way.

it started off as a little crush, but you never pursued in actually doing anything with the older man in fear of risking your job. he was smart, and you assumed he wouldn’t ever go for the nanny of his daughter .

that was until you’d catch him eyeing your cherry glazed lips, the subtle touches near your hips when he would pass by you, and clever flirty comments began to slip out of his mouth.

something in your dynamic just... shifted.

it was one night when he arrived home from a long night of partying, and Lisa Marie was sound asleep in bed — he’d find you with a halfway full bottle of wine in your grasp.

your cheeks flushed, your words sloppily said.

"you've been out all night mr. presley."You giggled with a rasp, your eyes look over towards the door where the man stood, the slam of the front door indicating he just got to Graceland.

you took in his appearance as he came into eye view. the dark messy hair that was messy just in the perfect way, the way his tan chest peeked from the behind the white button up that was unbuttoned slightly, bloodshot eyes indicating that he may have partied a bit too hard.

just as you took him in, he took in the sight of you. your red lipstick smeared from your lips ever so slightly, your hair tousled, and the straps of your little dress falling off your shoulders as your back rested the marble table that stood in the middle of the fancy kitchen.

he began walking towards the small island where you stood, your eyes following every move he made.

"wasn't today your day off, darlin'?" he questioned curiously with that thick country twang, letting out a breathless shot of laughter before looking towards the direction where you were. "priscilla asked to me watch Lisa, she had some plans." you admitted.

he walked towards the the wooden cabinet where he kept his liquor, grabbing a empty small glass and a much larger glass full of burning liquor.

some part of you was telling you two remove yourself from the room, get as far away from Elvis as you could - but another part of you was screaming at you to stay, screaming at you to pursue your dangerous urges.

"If you prefer me to go, I can, Mr. Presley." You offered, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you watched Elvis's face for any sign of discomfort.

he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his body standing right across from you.

you saw the way his jaw clenched at the way you said his name, but that happened everytime the simple saying slipped out of your mouth, "oh, mr. presley."

"no, no, the more the merrier." Elvis's slurred out, pouring a shot of whiskey in his glass, hesitation laced in his voice but he quickly covered it with a shaky scoff.

"you know, it's good to call me just elvis." he met your eyes, cooing out his words. the playful expression that was on his face moments ago replaced with a more hesitant one.

"good for you or good for me?" you murmured out, your lips quirking up so riskily and daringly.

you were writing out a check you couldn't cash.

"it would save us from a whole 'lotta trouble." he raised his brows and tilted his head with a careless shrug, bringing the glass of liquor to his lips. his Adam's apple bobbing as the stinging liquid entered his body.

"trouble? i thought you liked trouble, mr. presley." you cocked your head, your words rolling off of your tounge so surely. you began readjusting your hips, the end of your satin dress riding up with every move you made.

he couldn't read the expression sprawled on your face, but you sure as hell could read his. his knitted brows, his eyes looking at you so intensely... reading you for any source of confirmation that the sinful thoughts in his head weren't only racing through his.

"i like a lot of things, sweetheart." elvis chuckled, setting down the glass of dark liqueur. his eyes taking a quick peek on the dress that was now bunched on your hips - a momentarily peek, a peek that was so quick that he was sure you wouldn't have saw.

"yeah?" you purred, deciding to be the one to make the first move out of the unspoken need you two shared. you decided to grab the glass he sat down moments ago and bring it your lips, the liquor was strong but you wouldn't show him that.

"uh, y... yeah." elvis choked out, clearing his throat as he felt sudden pressure on his cock. "good things cause a lot of trouble." he purred sinfully, he knew what your intentions were, he knew he wasn't reading this situation wrong... the next move was up to him.

he quickly recovered, shaking off the flustered state you put him in and returning to his cocky self. "good girl's, cause a lot of trouble." he teased in a readily manner, he lustfully over where you stood, watching you with nothing but pure amusement.

"oh, mr. Presley, kill me if im wrong. but i would assume your saying im a good girl?" you cooed, you quirked one of your brows, questioning the man infront of you. you sat your body on the counter, legs dangling as you looked at him curiously.

"isn't that you call a pretty little thing such as yourself, a good girl?" he rasped it so readily, his feet moved him few inches, just so he could stand in between your legs and look at your face.

your chest rose up and down in a needy way, your eyes watching the way his slowly wandered towards your bare hips. "i can be whatever your want, mr. presley." you handed him back his glass of liquor, a barely visible coat of cherry red lip stick on the rim of the glass.

"you’re gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?" he purred as he nodded, grabbing the glass from you, but never did he dare to look away from you. keeping his eyes on you as you felt his finger tips tap your soft thighs. those three taps, gesturing for you to open your legs so he could stand in between them.

and you listened, never did you hesitate. he looked down at your parted legs, oh god, how many times has he thought about this exact moment. he didn't know where to start, he just knew by before the night was over he would have kissed every inch of your body.

"how do you want me, baby?" one of his rough hands gently squeezed your hips, while the other finally began reaching the soaking lace panties that covered your pussy.

you felt his duo of fingers applying light pressure to your clit, causing a shaky whimper to leave your mouth.

"i... i just, " you trailed off, you looked down to see his hardened cock poking through his leather pants - you took a peek, a peek so quick you thought he wouldn't even notice.

"just need you inside me, mr. presley." you whimpered, rolling your hips up towards where he needed attention from you most - causing breathy moans to slip from his and your lips as you felt his needy dick rub you through your lace panties.

"that'ta girl." Elvis teased, he began slipping the wet pink lace off, a cocky smirk on his lips as he pickpocketing them. your hands traveled towards the zipper of his black leather pants, the sound of the zipper unzipping could be heard alongside your's and Elvis's needy breaths.

"so eager, baby?" he chuckled, the sound of the leather dropping to the floor - and just as quick as his pants were off, so were his boxers. there was nothing holding him back from fucking you.

precum on the tip of his hard dick, his body telling him he needed this more than anything.

" y'look so pretty like this, mama." he breathily cooed against your neck, placing sloppy kisses all over your collar bones as you and him were chest to chest. you felt his hand gently hover over your lower abdomen, pressing ever so gentle - leaving you slightly confused.

his dick began grazing over the slit of your pussy, his precum mixing with the wetness of your pussy his words he squeezed out of you. your hands gripped his shoulders, getting yourself ready and steady.

he then lined his dick with your hole, he looked at you for confirmation. you nodded readily and quickly, moving your hips that he had been gripping up a few inches. "please." you whimpered, his tip in your hole, you just needed him to completely to enter you.

and as soon as you whimpered, you felt his dick slowly filling you up. his dick was bigger than any other dick that had entered your body before. you felt your walls tighten around him, your nails burying into his shoulders as his hands squeezed your hips.

"pussy was made for me." he didn't move, letting your needy hole get used to the feeling as you both let out incoherent whimpers. his eyes squeezed shut, head buried in your shoulder, and hot and heavy breaths following.

his dick hadn't left your hole all the way when he then snapped his hips into yours, taking you by surprise as you felt his hand lift your thigh around his waist - hoping to get access to the spot that would drive insane even if he slightly grazed over it.

he set a harsh but slow pace, each thrust was better than the other. you felt yourself subconsciously rocking against his, breathy whimpers and moans slipping from his mouth was only encouraging you to continue.

He was making you feel so good, like you expected him to. His dick seemed to be made for you, all of its veins and curves hitting the right spots inside you.

you felt his hand pressed against your lower abdomen again, but this you felt something else other than his hand.

he wanted you to feel him, inside and out. so you saw the bulge of his dick with each time he slammed into you, you could basically feel that familiar Spring coil form.

"s... so damn.. " he cut him self off with a harsh thrust in your pussy, causing you to let out a high pitched moan. " tight, just for ... me."

and just if you thought that was too much, you felt his fingers press against your swollen button. pressing and tracing circles around your wet clit as his dick dipped in and out.

This pleasure filled encounter couldn’t last forever, even if you wished it could. Soon enough your walls began to clench around him, making his thrust slow down to enjoy the way you squeezed. He was choking out moans into your ear, his voice raspy and shaky.

"elvis... m'close." you whimpered shakily, his hands guiding your hips as you felt his dick pulse, the familiar feeling of your pussy getting sensitive with each time his fingers and dick did their most.

and he made sure to touch that g spot, pushing his dick into so deep that you were sure to cum any moment. "fuck!" you breathlessly moaned, everything around you went hot when his dick hit that spongy spot.

"that'ta girl." he pressing down lightly on your lower stomach so you really felt him whilst shushing you.

it was like all of the juices you had been collecting had finally released just by his dick grazing that sweet spot, your vision went white, and your body jerked into his - his arm wrapped against your body, hugging against you as he rode out his high.

you could hear the sound of yours and Elvis's cum mixing, the shaky pants you two shared, something you would never forget.

tag list . . . !

@marinarose12 @rysssaa @domaniquessidehoe @wistoric @givemehickeysplease @mr-aurum @feral4austinbutler @pandora-journey @kissingrhi @ash-omalley @queendelrey @heartsbomb @djarinlgc @austinbutler4life @adoreyouusugar

4K notes · View notes

vintageaustin · 2 months

Text

You made me believe in right person wrong time

austin butler x reader

warnings: talk of break up uhm depression and talk of cheating maybe some swearing

Authors note; I worked crazy on this but it still kinda sucks my apologies

You were on a night out when you saw him and there was sweet music playing in the dark. Your friend saw how distracted you looked, as she stopped swaying her hips to the music, ¨you okay y/n?¨ she asked, which just made you nod your head a bit ¨yeah…yeah i´m fine¨. You said and grabbed your jacket then said your goodbyes.

You and Austin had broken up two years ago because… well it just didn't work out at the time and if you were honest you didn't expect you'd ever see him again. And maybe that was why you wanted to get the hell out of here. You didn't wanna face that confrontation because there is no such thing as right person wrong time is there?

You shook your head as you made your way outside until someone bumped into you. You looked up at the tall figure as you stared back into those familiar blue eyes. And you swear right then and there as he breathed your name out.

You could already feel yourself falling back in love with him just like you did all those years ago.

¨y/n?” he breathed his eyes and face lighting up. You smiled and nodded your head softly ¨hai austin¨ you spoke softly. As if the two of you never fell out of love, you and Austin met during the Cannes film festival .

the two of you clicked immediately and he asked you out not much longer after, the two of you made it official after like a month of dating. For some it may be fast but for you it was true love.

He really cared about you, some almost say he even loved you but he was never one to break old habits. Then he cheated on you and it absolutely destroyed you.. It took you two years to be you again and every girl he dated after you well,,, she was almost you..

¨how… How have you been?¨ he asked. You smiled and chuckled ¨i´ve been doing good what about you?¨ you asked politely. That's what he liked most about you were always so polite. There was no darkness in your heart whatsoever Only kindness.

¨i've been doing well…¨ he chuckled and smiled god that smile. ¨you uhm you´ve got some color back¨ he chuckled and you laughed. You laughed like you and she… almost laughed like you.. It wouldn't do. He wanted you, he needed you god if only he realized that sooner and he wasn't so stupid.

Some nights he got along without you very well and some other nights, he'd play your song over and over again.

He wouldn't know where to start but he did know he can't ruin this because this may be his only chance to make things right. What austin didnt know was the deep deep deep depression you fell into.

But that's all in the past now isn´t it? And little did Austin know that you were more than willing to give him another chance and start over again.

Austin looked over at his date who was clearly looking for him, you looked over and sighed softly ¨right you should probably get back to her.. I was about to leave anyway.¨ you spoke softly with a hint of sadness to it,

Austin nodded “bye y/n…” he whispered and you said your goodbye as well and left.

Meanwhile everything in Austin his body was yelling at him for how stupid he was being that was his chance! But… no way you would take him back not after what he did to you and he’d just have to accept that

As you got home you sighed softly and sat on your couch after getting changed into something more comfortable as your eyes welled up with tears, see you never believed in right person wrong time.

Because… if that person was so right for you.. why would the timing be wrong if you belong together? Honesty you could dwell on it for hours and you do.

Meanwhile in the bar where Austin still was with his date, and he wasn’t having a good time at all it was killing him really how could he be so so so stupid to let you go again honestly what was wrong with him?

After they left she invited him inside and he politely declined because she wasn’t you, don’t get him wrong he isn’t comparing you to her and visa versa but, there was something about you that would always lead him back,

when he didn’t have anything to think about he’d think about you and how badly he screwed that up. He just belonged to you and you to him.

Austin made his way to your house praying that you still had the same address and hadn’t moved in those two years, because how’d he find you then? Once he got there he rang the door bell with shaky hands.

You frowned slightly because who would be ringing your doorbell at this hour at night? You unlocked your door and there he stood those beautiful blue eyes, filled with tears and his hands in his pockets he looked like a little kid who just got scolded by one of his parents.

“A-Austin?” You whispered and looked at him rather confused because where is his date..? And that’s the next thing you ask “where’s your date..?” He chuckled because that was one thing he liked so much about you the way you wanted to make sure.

Others were safe and sound he admired that if he was honest sure he was a caring person but you just had so much love and kindness to. Offer the world.

“I brought her home don’t worry” he chuckled trying to hold back his tears as well as he could “listen I-im so sorry y/n, for the way I acted and the way I treated you a-and I hate myself for I-it I really do you didn’t deserve any of it,

I never was.. and I never will be. But I was wondering if you maybe consider giving me another ch-“ before he could finish what he was saying you grabbed his face and pulled him into a sweet kiss he stiffed for a moment.

Expecting anything but that as he grabbed your waist he finally returned the kiss after you pulled away from the kiss you smiled lovingly at him. Running a thumb over his cheek, “pick me up at 7 tomorrow?” You asked sweetly how could he say no to that.

“I’ll be here at 7 princess” he chuckled and kissed you once more, “thank you” he whispered once you pulled away again, you smiled at him and chuckled “you don’t have to thank me Austin. You made me believe in right person wrong time.”

Because that was the truth you were never a big believer of it but, Austin? Austin and you belonged together right back then the timing was just of. But now it was all okay again and the both of you have never felt better than to be back with their significant other.

#elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #austin butler fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x y/n #elvis presley imagine #austin!elvis x reader #elvis x you #austin butler imagine #austin butler imagines #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic

128 notes · View notes

bodyelectr1c · 12 days

Text

gorgeous beautiful perfect boy

#austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #elvis presley #austin!elvis x reader #elvis #elvis 2022

138 notes · View notes

youaintnothinbuta · 2 months

Text

“I’ve got her, you relax.” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: daddy Elvis comes home from tour finally, and you’ve been extra tired lately having to take care of a sick toddler. He goes straight into dad mode when he gets home and gives you a chance to relax and he’s just the best dad ever to your daughter n I love domestic elvis <3

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 678

Warnings: fluff!! Domestic!Elvis n daddy!elvis 😋 probs typos SORRY

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Finally the day had come where Elvis was coming home for a break from touring. You were originally going to meet him at the airport with the others, but your daughter had been under the weather, and sick toddlers and overstimulating environments don’t mix well. Instead, you waited at Graceland for him to return, your daughter resting on your lap.

As soon as she heard the lock of the front door click, she lept out of your lap, running over to Elvis, her arms outstretched towards him, cheering, “daddy, daddy!”

Elvis’ face lit up with a radiant smile as he scooped her up, spinning her around in the air before cuddling her to his chest, peppering her face with kisses. You watched with a smile, waiting for your turn. “My little girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he planted another kiss on her cheek. “My other little girl. I’ve missed you,” he continued, turning to you and enveloping you in a warm embrace, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss.

As he lifted your daughter onto his shoulders, her giggles filling the air, you felt relief wash over you, “I've missed you too, E,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth.

“How is she?” He asked, his concern evident in his voice, reaching up to tickle your daughter’s tummy, who was perched happily on his shoulders.

You let out a tired sigh, the weight of the past few days evident in your voice, “Getting there.”

“Tell you what, I’ve got her, you relax this afternoon, tonight it’ll be just me and you,” he suggested, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. Your heart raced a little at his suggestion, “I’d love that.”

You made your way to the bathroom, the promise of a warm bath beckoning you, Elvis followed closely behind, your daughter still perched happily on his shoulders. Together, you ascended the staircase, the sound of y/d/n’s laughter filling the air as Elvis carried her up to her bedroom to retrieve a coat.

“And mama,” Elvis said, his voice filled with determination as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him, “don't you even think about cooking, or cleaning, or tidying, or nothing, okay? I got it.”

You couldn't help but smile at his insistence, a wave of gratitude washing over you at his thoughtfulness. “Alright, daddy,” you replied playfully, backing up against him and teasing him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. You wandered away into the your bedroom, Elvis shot you a knowing smirk, shaking his head in amusement as he watched you go, saying you’re going to get it tonight.

“Alright, monkey,” Elvis said, turning his attention back to your daughter, who was now perched on her bed, her eyes shining with excitement. “Let's get a jacket and go play outside.”

Bending down, he gently lifted her off the bed, setting her down on her feet. Opening up her wardrobe, he sifted through the clothes until he found a warm coat, zipping it up around her little body snugly to protect her from the chilly November air.

Once she was properly bundled up, Elvis took her hand in his, a smile lighting up his face as he led her out of the room and down the stairs. Outside, the world was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, the crisp air tinged with winter on the horizon. The bathtub in yours and Elvis’ ensuite was positioned perfectly next to a window, allowing you to watch on as he and y/d/n headed out into the backyard, their laughter echoing through the air.

The pair ran around playing together, first in her cubby house, then playing chasey, before she got bored of that too. You leant against the bathtub ledge, smiling at your little family.

“Baby, come here, look,” Elvis pulled her into his lap, “see, look, wave to mama, do you see her?” He cooed, pointing to you in the window for her as she waved both hands around at you, making you laugh.

180 notes · View notes

drtyelvisfantasy · 10 months

Text

𝒪𝓃ℯ 𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓅 𝒶𝓉 𝒶 𝓉𝒾𝓂ℯ

Pairings: Elvis Presley x female!reader

Summary: The reader who is Elvis Presley’s wife wakes up to see her husband teaching their baby son Jesse how to walk🥹

౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ

The sun peeked through the curtains of Graceland, casting a warm glow over the room. You found yourself in the presence of the King himself, Elvis Presley. Your heart fluttered as you watched him, his mesmerizing voice filling the air as he strummed his guitar effortlessly. It was a rare, intimate moment you had the privilege of witnessing.

As you stood by the doorway, you saw Elvis glance towards the crib tucked in the corner of the room. A smile crept across his face as he noticed his baby son, Jesse, starting to stir. Gently setting his guitar aside, Elvis approached the crib, his eyes filled with adoration.

"Hey there, little man," Elvis cooed, his voice soft and melodic. "Ready to show Daddy those fancy moves of yours?"

Jesse giggled in response, his chubby arms reaching out towards his father. Elvis scooped his little boy up into his arms, cradling him securely against his chest. The room seemed to come alive with the sound of their laughter, a symphony of love.

With careful steps, Elvis carried Jesse to the center of the room, creating a safe space for their adventure. He positioned Jesse's tiny feet on the wooden floor, supporting his wobbly legs with his hands.

"Alright, Jesse, it's time to show Daddy how you can walk," Elvis encouraged, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "You've got the rhythm in your blood, just like your old man."

As if on cue, the room filled with the sound of Elvis singing softly, his voice guiding Jesse's every movement. With each step, Elvis matched their strides, gently swaying from side to side, ensuring Jesse felt secure in his arms.

One hesitant step, then another. Jesse's face lit up with excitement, his eyes gleaming with determination. Elvis offered words of encouragement, his voice a gentle melody, easing any fear his son might have had.

"That's it, baby boy!" Elvis praised, his voice filled with pride. "You're doing great, just like your Mama."

Jesse's chubby legs grew stronger, his steps more assured. The room filled with joyous laughter and applause as he took his first independent steps, stumbling slightly before regaining his balance.

Elvis smiled brightly, his heart swelling with love and pride. He knew this was just the beginning of a lifetime of dances they would share together, a legacy that would continue to live on.

"You see, my little man," Elvis whispered, his voice filled with emotion, "Your Mama and I will always be here to catch you when you fall, to help you find your way. You've got a whole world waiting for you, and your old man will be by your side every step of the way."

As Jesse continued to take his first steps, the room filled with a sense of wonder and joy. The bond between father and son grew stronger with each passing moment, a testament to the love that would always guide them.

And as you watched this enchanting scene unfold before your eyes, you couldn't help but feel privileged to have witnessed such a magical moment. Your husband, The King of Rock and Roll, teaching his baby boy to walk, was a memory that would forever be etched in your heart.

#elvis presley fluff #elvis presley x reader #elvisaaronpresley #elvis the king #elvis music #elvis x you #70s elvis #elvis x y/n #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler fluff

481 notes · View notes

crash-and-cure · 11 months

Text

Every Minute, Every Hour (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: You were out. You were out goddamnit. How was he here?

A/N: Soooo.... It’s been awhile. Writer’s block is an absolute son of a bitch. So this is based on an idea I had and requested to @venus-haze a couple months ago and which I almost completely forgot about until I got this request and I decided two birds and all that. I also acknowledge that there was another similar request made a while back, to the person who requested it don’t worry, I do have plans for it.

Warnings: Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, jealous, and delusional behavior. Dubious Consent in regards to coersion being involved. Loss of virginity. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), oral sex (f.recieving), female mastubation, slight dumbification, and implied anal play. Brief depictions of choking. Touch-starvation. Mentions of Pregnancy. Referenced cheating on Elvis' part. Self-loathing. Stockholm Syndrome(?) Probably more that I am blanking on. Period-typical homophobia and closeted characters depicted. Please do not interact if you are under 18.

Word Count: 19.8K

Masterlist

----------

You look like an angel (look like an angel)

Walk like an angel (walk like an angel)

Talk like an angel

But I got wise

You’re the devi-

It takes you longer than you would have liked to reach the radio and turn it off. And it’s only as you reach it do you realize how odd it looks from the outside when you see a customer looking at you funny.

“Not much of a fan,” you say with an admittedly pathetic smile on your face.

“I can see that,” he replies with an awkward smile, before going back to browsing the books.

You bashfully turn the radio back on and quickly try to turn the knob to anything even remotely comprehensible, but it’s just your luck that this is the only station you get decent reception on in the store. With no other choice but to simply grin and bear it you put the volume on low and return to reading your book.

You do keep an eye on your final customer of the evening, and hope he hurries up so you can finally close up for the day. Susan had been complaining about a migraine since lunch and Gina was caring for her upstairs and so it was on you to close up the shop on your own today.

You feel embarrassed to have been seen that way but that all falls away when you hear the shop bell ring, only to be immediately followed by tiny rapid footsteps and an excited little “mama!” and you grab onto the counter before your little two and a half foot terror can knock out from behind you. Which ends up being the right call as you feel her head butt your knees and locking her arms around them nearly knocking you down.

“Mama! Mama!” she squealed, practically vibrating, she was so excited to see you.

“Rosie! Rosie!” you say, equally as happy to see her though you do a far better job at reining it in. She takes your hands in hers as you crouch down to look at her, and take stock. Her hair is askew with the ribbons you had tied in place this morning holding on for dear life in her beautiful curls, her face is smudgy with what you’re hoping is chocolate, and one of her socks is just gone, but both shoes are in place so you can only imagine how your little hellion managed that. Overall this is the best condition Rosie has returned to you in, after a long day with Jenny.

“Mama, Aunty Jenny took me to the Candy store!” she says, showing off the candy bracelets on her tiny wrists.

“Really,” you say, shooting a look at your friend for giving her so much sugar before bed. The woman in question has the courtesy to at least look a little guilty about it, before giving a small laugh.

“Mm-hmm. And we saw Danny at the playground and we-we saw Uncle Lee’s friends, and then we listened to a lotta music, and we saw a movie about a wizard and there was no one else in the whole room, and then-then…” she rapidly rambles on but you pepper her face in kisses before she can pass out from the lack of oxygen. She giggles uncontrollably and tries to squirm out of your grip, but you gotta get in one good raspberry on her cheek before you let her go.

“Alright, why don’t you go upstairs and help Aunty Gina finish up dinner,” you tell her with a smile on your face. Her “help” in the kitchen is typically watching and holding spoons and spatulas on a step stool, but she’s at an age where she believes the whole dish would fall apart without her important contribution to it, so she goes rushing to the stairs.

But she quickly comes running back while taking the uneaten bracelet off of her wrist. “Danny said to give this to you for your birthday,” she declares. Ever since meeting Jenny’s nephew she’s seemed to hang on to every word of his, and though you’ve never met the boy he seems to be a good kid, always polite and saying hello through your daughter, but has, as you've heard, an extreme affinity towards spinning a few too many fantastical stories. But your daughter is far too young to see him as anything but a friend so you doubt you have anything to worry about as of right now.

She’s always so eager to tell you about everything, and you’re just as eager to listen. Your folks never wanted to hear anything from you, and you pray that your attentiveness will pay off one day when she is never afraid to come to you with your troubles. Maybe if you had that with your mother you wouldn’t be where you were.

“Well tell him I said thank you,” you say, as you pull it on your wrist, placing a small kiss on her forehead before she books it back to the stairs behind the counter. As you stand back up, to your surprise you find the customer now at the counter with a good stack of books.

“Sorry to bother Miss…ummm…” the customer says nervously.

“Love,” you clarify for him. “Y/N Love.”

He gives a shy smile at that, “Well Miss Love, I’m ‘bout ready to check out so…” he says gesturing to his tower of books.

“Of course,” you answer and you begin to ring him up. He’s got quite a few so at least he makes the extra time staying down here somewhat worth it.

“Whatcha readin’ there,” he asks you, pointing to the open book you’ve left to your side. You show him your copy of We have always lived in the castle. “I-is it any good?”

“I would say so,” you answer. Though that ending did hit a little too close to home, you think to yourself.

“So umm, d-do you like to read?” he asks hesitantly as he quietly adds a copy of the book to his pile.

“I’d be in the wrong business if I didn’t,” you joke, and he laughs a little too hard. “How ‘bout you?” you ask, wanting to not have an awkward silence, as you’re not even halfway through the stack.

“Yeah, I-I love reading though I don’t got a lotta time for it these days,” he says with a guilty smile on his face.

“Why’s that?” you ask, since it seems to be the only way this conversation could go.

“I-I just started my residency at Charity Hospital,” he says bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Sam by the way,” apparently realizing that he hadn’t made the proper introductions.

“Y/N,” you say, giving him a small nod and a smile. “And congratulations on your residency,” you're almost done with the final few books, but you may or may not be taking your time to finish them up, wanting to prolong the conversation you’re having for a bit.

“Thank you, and I- well, umm… I couldn’t help but overhear your daughter, but umm… Happy Birthday,” he says ducking his head, a bit embarrassed at his own admission.

“Oh, thank you,” you say, your face heating up slightly that he had heard.

“Your Husband’s a lucky man,” he says, though he does steal a quick glance at you, no doubt trying to gauge your reaction.

So this is what it’s about, you think to yourself. “I’m actually not…” you trail off, and hope that he gets the message.

“Oh, I’m glad to hear that,” he stated before his eyes widened as he realized what he just said. “I-I mean not glad like I’m happy that you-you’re not married, bu-but glad li-like I’m relieved that I hav-haven’t been trying to build up the courage to talk to a cute girl for the past few weeks only to find out she’s married already.” he blathers on and you can’t help but laugh.

Your heart does flutter a bit at his confession. Everything about this feels like it should be perfect. Unfortunately for the both of you, you finally get a good look at his icy blue eyes that are a little too familiar for comfort, and it feels like your throat closes up.

You can feel your stomach churning (and not just from the baby that fills it) and cold regret for not buying an extra pair of socks as you sit at the Greyhound terminal in Nashville, your feet starting practically turning into ice blocks. That cold November morning you had made a show of telling everybody you were gonna make a quick trip down to the shops for some eggs, now you’re almost a full state away praying that the bus gets here soon, jumping every time a set of headlights passes by and you're just barely keeping dry underneath the metal canopy.

But for as cold as you are physically, your chest starts to heat up at the prospect that you’re so close to freedom from an even colder gaze. When the bus does get there you hardly sleep a wink afraid to let your guard down even now. You know how well he could sabotage your plans if he was so inclined, from small things like spoiling the surprise party you had planned for him to the major of ruining your chances to get into another school.

You know he’s half a world away yet that still does little knowing what the most loyal of his are willing to do for him. It’s not until you finally make it to the train station in Atlanta that’ll take you down to New Orleans that you finally give in to your heavy eyelids, willing to trust strangers with your safety, aware they can’t hurt you any worse than those you know have done.

You shake your head as you’re brought back to the present, and you hear him say something, “I’m sorry what?” you covertly wiggle your toes as you try to ground yourself and get sensation back in them as though you were just getting them out of the cold.

“I was just sayin’ there’s this club down on Bourbon that I been meanin’ to check out since movin’ down here, and I was hopin’ a local such as yourself could show me ‘round these parts,” he says, a nervous but hopeful smile on his lips.

For a moment you can almost imagine saying yes to him, how he would take you out on the town, how he would kiss you, how he would throw your daughter up in the air. How maybe you could be happy with him.

But like a looming black cloud, in spite of the lowered volume, you hear what the new station is now playing, clear as a bell.

Oh please come to my arms and say you'll love me forever

For with the dawn, you'll be gone

It’s almost as though He’s following you, serving as a constant reminder of what you did, and that you’re never allowed to imagine being with another man. You wordlessly turn off the radio before you’re forced to listen anymore. “Uhh, I-I’m sorry, I-I really don’t go out much,” you say, trying to shut this down as gently as you could.

“Oh-uhh, that’s fine I umm,” he says, pivoting hard. “I’m more of a movie guy myself, I hear he’s got a new one out, and we can go and watch anything but that,” he gives a small laugh pointing to the radio, but quickly drops it upon seeing your grim expression.

Without knowing it Sam just shut the coffin on any potential happenings between the two of you. “I’m sorry, it’s late and I gotta close up for the night,” you say softly, and he’s smart enough to take the hint.

“O-of course,” he says looking down at the books he has in his hands. “But can you promise you’ll think about it?” he asks as he reaches the door to look back at you.

Even before you open your mouth, you already know that your next words are going to make you lose a customer forever. “There’s nothing to think about,” you say, trying to feign apathy. Harsh as your words may be, you know this is far kinder to him in the long run as opposed to getting more involved with you.

You watch him leave the store with a sagging shoulders and a long face, before you feel a hand meet violently with the back of your head, and you swivel around to see Jenny with an exasperated look on her face. “So a handsome, single, doctor who loves to read, and doesn’t mind that you already got a kid, asks you out and you say…” she trails off, seeming to only get more offended with every dreamy quality he had.

“Don’tchu get like that Jenny,” you defend yourself, as you stomp to the door in order to flip the sign to closed and lock up for the night. “I’ve got a daughter to worry about and I don’t have time for a boyfriend right now.”

“Well newsflash Y/N,” she argues, “Rosie needs a daddy.”

You feel your hackles rising at that statement. “No she doesn’t,” you state firmly, not wanting to raise your voice, because you know better than anyone how easy it is to be overheard.

She deflates a little at your obvious fury at this line of questioning, before letting out a long tired sigh. “It’s just that… when we were at the park today… she asked me why she didn’t have one. And she… she just kept pressing,” she says obviously ashamed that she hurt you, but wanting to get across her reasoning. “What am I supposed to say to that? Especially when you won’t tell nobody what happened. I only got her to drop it when I took her to the candy shop.”

You feel guilty for snapping at your friend. Jenny Hodge had been an absolute godsend since you met her almost a year ago, when she and her new husband, Lee, had moved down from Alabama. Her arrival had coincided when Rosie started becoming aggressively mobile and insisted that running was the only way to get around anymore. And because she felt she needed practice with being a Mama before she had one of her own, she insisted on being your one and only babysitter, in exchange for free books every so often.

The story around the block is that you are were the young widow who “tragically” lost her husband in an accident before he ever had the chance to meet your beautiful daughter, and with no one in the world left to turn to, you ended up on your “spinster” aunt and her “good friend” Susan’s doorstep. And Jenny, since hearing your story, has by far been your most fervent supporter outside of this house, with her support primarily coming in two flavors: 1) helping you with your daughter so she isn’t so cooped up in the store while you work and 2) trying to set you up with any moderately successful man.

“Y/N,” she says softly. “I get that it’s hard to get back out there, but you need to think about the bigger picture, because it’s only a matter of time before she starts asking you.”

You know she’s right, and that’s the worst part about it. Your little Rosie Love is a stubborn one, not to mention smart, always has been. Didn’t want to walk because she wanted to run. Hated her diaper so much she learned how to unpin it when she was barely a year old. Wanted to try to feed herself when she first took to solid food, and would snatch the spoon out of your hand when she could. She’s broken out of every play pen she’s ever been in. Hell, she was almost two weeks overdue, and the doctors were forced to induce you, she didn’t want to come out until she was good and ready.

She, like someone else you knew, is capable of throwing a wrench into any plan you make. For as endearing as it can be, it is all the more frustrating knowing exactly where she gets it from.

With a long defeated sigh, you concede to her point and thank her for both her input and for being a good friend this past year. And maybe someday you’ll be ready to find another husband.

She has a wide cheshire-cat like grin as you say that, “And I’mma ‘bout to be a better one,” she practically sings. “Lee’s friend is in town, and I think you two would hit it off.”

“And I think we wouldn’t,” you state, putting books back where they belong.

“C’mon Y/N, I thought we were past this,” she whines.

“I did say someday, not today,” you emphasize.

“Y/N, your birthday’s comin’ up soon, and it ain’t like you’re gettin’ any younger. Besides Lee and I are already trying for a baby, so I ain’t gonna be so available much longer neither,” she says in a soft voice holding your hands in hers. “And you need to find someone you can rely on too, it’s not like you wanna end up like your Aunt Gina”

You say nothing not wanting to say anything incriminating about the relationship between your Aunts, as for all that you trust Jenny, you don’t trust her enough with somebody else’s secrets.

“Just promise me you'll think about it at least,” she pleads, hands clasped over your own.

What is it about people that, not trusting you when you answer the first time, and thinking given enough time you’ll come around?

Yet you're no better as you let out a long tired sigh, before ultimately agreeing, if only to get her off your back. Or so you tell yourself.

She tells you a bit about the man she has in mind for you, or more accurately she keeps insisting how perfect the two of you would be together. In her mind it’ll be love at first sight, how he’ll love and accept Rosie as his own immediately, how she guarantees that you’ll be married within a year and be trying to give Rosie a little brother or sister. You have to bodily shove her out the door by that point lest she get into any more specifics in her attempt to sway you.

Jenny’s a little older than you, but she is very much a romantic at heart, you suppose, though that’s the benefit of things going right in your life.

But your story went wrong.

“Why you in such a hurry to get out girl?” your accomplice would ask as he handed you the money (He had made it a point of order that you were never to handle any) the day before your escape.

“There’s someone else,” you say simply, because it’s true and if they were to ever betray your trust this would be worse on them than on you.

You got away with quite a bit back in the day like getting out of trouble for making out in a dark empty classroom by claiming to have been caught by surprise by your monthlies and now you couldn’t bear the thought of being seen like this. Or when you got hired by the library for the summer after you approached the front desk and claimed to be the new hire ready for her first day of training and nobody really bothered to check in with anybody else. Even that one time when you confidently strolled backstage at a music hall He had wanted to perform all to sneak them in through the back door and convinced just enough people that his band was meant to perform that night.

Your ability to make up stories on the fly and map things out in your head had led you to believe that you would make for a pretty good mystery writer. You had even tried to go to school to be one, though you told everyone it was to be a teacher, a far more respectable and womanly job.

Well not everyone.

He certainly knew.

Knew about your talent for planning and story-telling, and was practically always in awe to see it in action. But this recognition came at the expense that he was aware of your tricks and he always knew how to throw you off just enough to make any plans you made go belly up. Whether it was something relatively small like figuring out you were planning a surprise party to the major… like when you tried to end things the first time around.

He called you almost every night when he was on tour, and you had done your best to relay all that was going on back in Memphis. And in spite of his insistence that he wants to hear about it, you suspect that he wasn’t being truthful. He especially seemed disgruntled when you made any mention of doing anything with anyone else. Your friends, his friends, even your own family weren’t safe from his ire.

When He was here you would do everything together, yet now that you tell him about all that you’d been doing, there is a slight but noticeable edge when he speaks to you over the phone. Everytime you mention how you went to the movie theater or you went to the record store or the bookshop, it was almost always met with a solemn “we used to do that together.”

You would have gone with him, had your parents let you, and He knows that so you don’t understand why he’s so sore about the fact that you’re not simply sitting on your hands back home waiting for him to return.

So in an effort to spare his feelings you asked him about the things he was doing, you even go out of your way to say how happy you were when he was telling you about all of the fun things he had done on the road. You’re happy to hear it all and you thought

You miss him just as fiercely but you don’t want it to stop you from living.

But when you got your acceptance letter, you saw the writing on the wall. You both were going in different directions: you were going to be studying, were barely going to be home and his star just kept growing and growing each day taking him further out and making him harder to reach. You know you wanted this and you begin to suspect you may want it more than you want to stay with him, if staying with him meant being alone all the same.

This was only confirmed in the weeks leading up to Prom when you couldn’t get a straight answer out of him of whether or not He would be able to make it. It was on you to practically plan everything down to what he would wear, while his whole contribution was to show up- maybe?

Whether He did show up or not that night, you thought the result would be the same with you officially breaking things off between you two. But you still held out hope that at least if he did come you would have one last good memory.

And to your relief He does make it, but he’s a little off the whole night. Not in the sense that his mind is elsewhere, more like he’s trying to commit everything about the night into memory, and looking at you with sad eyes when he thinks you’re not looking.

It all comes to a head when you’re parked outside of your house, and you’re sitting in a loaded silence with him at the wheel. He’s gripping onto that thing for dear life and you’re wondering if maybe you should save it, but you think you know yourself well enough to know that if you don’t say it now, you won't say it ever.

So as he’s opening his mouth to say something, you cut him off with his name.

“...I-I got accepted to Southwestern,” you blurted out to him and He looked so confused at your admission, but you push through. “I start in the fall, so I’m not gonna be home much anymore, and with y-you being on the road so much, I think it best that we-”

“Marry me,” he blurts out, panic etched across his face.

Your jaw is left practically on the floor as that was the last thing you ever expected out of his mouth.

You would later find out that he went to Prom with the same intention as you did but it was in that moment that he realized you weren’t going to wait for him to come back did he want to lock you down. But you didn’t see that in the moment.

What you saw at the time was the declaration that he was just as committed as you were, and so overwhelmed by the love you still felt for him at the time, you had no choice but to give an emphatic yes to him.

“We’re gonna figure this out baby,” He promises with a kiss.

That was the first time you tried to leave him.

“-Danny’s a real good singer Aunty. He told me he lives in Neverland and one day he would take me and-and he told me this is the only place in the whole word that they sell peanut butter cups,” you would hear as you made your way up the stairs connecting to the apartment above the store. You look into the small kitchen where you see your little girl sitting on the counter talking her aunt’s ear off idly dangling her little feet while holding a spatula you're not entirely sure is necessary. Gina looks over to you and gives you a playfully exasperated look, and you simply shrug your shoulders before moving into the small kitchen to pepper your little one's face in kisses.

“Alright sticky missy,” you announce, blowing a raspberry on her cheek and swiping the utensil out of her hand as she trills in delight. “You go wash up for dinner now, ya’ hear, and go wake up Aunty, I think she’ll feel alot better seeing you.”

“Ok Mama,” she says. She is utterly fearless as she slides herself to get off of the counter, and lands on her feet below. You can’t help the swell of pride that bubbles up in your chest seeing it, how brave your little girl is. You hope that you can take it as a sign that you’re doing ok at this motherhood thing.

Gina likes to say that you were just as bold at that age with the confidence of someone so sure they can take on the world, and in quieter moments she’ll lament how you lost that in you. You would be offended if you didn’t already know when exactly you lost it.

She had always been your favorite Aunt until you were about twelve and and your father would coldly tell you she died and was in hell now. Rather than a funeral, the family got together to destroy her things and swear to never speak of her again.

That didn’t stop her from visiting you one last time and telling you she was moving down to New Orleans with her friend Susan. She would take you to your favorite bookstore one last time in Memphis and promised that if you ever needed a place to stay, to not even hesitate to come, because she knew better than anyone what your family would do to girls who stepped out of line.

For years the only evidence that she was even alive was the annual birthday and Christmas gift you would get from her all under the guise of Nancy Drew books stamped with the name of a bookstore all the way in New Orleans. You cherished them and it’s one of the few things you took after your parents kicked you out.

You only wished you had taken the offer when your father had kicked you out and you were forced to rely on someone else.

“So I hear you broke another heart,” Gina idly says as she starts scooping some rice onto a plate.

You let out a long sigh, “When did Jenny find the time to tell you?” You’re more amazed than annoyed considering she didn’t leave your sight once down stairs.

“Jenny?” she says, raising a brow. “No Sue told me earlier how Lou from King’s Cafe ‘s been askin’ after you.”

Lou who always had extra beignets to give away when you took Rosie for a walk in the mornings. He recently asked if you had ever been on the Algiers ferry, and how beautiful it looked at night.

…You’ve been taking a different route to the playground since then.

“Is my love life just everybody’s business,” you ask frustrated that you weren’t even given a five minute break from this.

“In this house: yes,” she states, a grin on her face.

“Gina if this is about me movin’ out, you can talk to me, I’m a big girl,” you insist, trying to deflect and not have to think about it anymore.

“Sweetheart,” she says solemnly, placing a hand on your cheek. I may not be your mama, but I do think that you need to think about what’s best for Rosie,” she insists as she puts place mats down on the table.

Gina’s a little closer to the situation than Jenny, as she had asked no questions as to why you all of a sudden needed a place to stay far from your parents with nary a husband or boyfriend in sight to take responsibility for the baby growing within you. She had also been the one to help spread the tragic young widow narrative, and for as much of a gossip she can be, you know she’s a steel trap for secrets that matter.

“What does me getting, or not getting, a boyfriend have to do with Rosie?”

“A boyfriend? Nothing,” she dismisses. “A husband on the other hand…”she says with a smile.

“Don’tchu come talkin’ to me ‘bout gettin’ a husband,” you say, handing her another plate of food.

She laughs at that, “It’s not just about you gettin’ a husband, it’s about Rosie gettin’ a father,” she insists amused at your mulishness.

“Not you too,” you mourn what you thought was going to be a quiet evening.

“I’m just sayin’ that every child deserves two parents,” putting the lid back on the pot.

“She’s got three mama’s,” you counter.

“No,” she says waving the wooden spoon in front of your face. “She’s got one mama and two grandmas that spoil her rotten behind your back.” You open your mouth to protest, until she quickly follows up with, “Oh speak of the devil herself,” as you see your little troublemaker dragging Susan by the hand to the table, whom you had to bully into taking a rest to somewhat alleviate the migraine she had been having for most of the day.

Your daughter can talk for hours if left unchecked and you're eager to hear all of it as she bounces from subject to subject at the dinner table. You had always felt somewhat guilty intruding on their space, but Gina insists nothing of the sort and Susan jokes that the two of them are getting the full kid/grandkid experience through you and Rosie, since the traditional way ain’t for them.

Between bites she regaled the three of you with all that she did today which included seeing a dog, the playground being shiny, spinning around so fast on the merry-go-round she almost went into space, made friends with some of the ducks, saw another dog, Danny gave her his popcorn, got a lot of candy from the candy shop, and gave some jelly beans to the last dog she saw today, but only the green ones she doesn’t like, and then feeling bad about it and giving it some of the red ones to even it out.

She doesn’t mention anything to you about asking Jenny about why she doesn't have a daddy, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the first break you’ve had all day. Some may say you indulge her too much, but all three grown women at this table know exactly how it feels to have their thoughts and feelings ignored, and you all had come to the mutual understanding that Rosie would never have to feel this way in this house.

“Mama, I forgot to tell you,” Rosie states after she shoveled the last of her food into her mouth. “Barbie got a new job today!” she delights as she thrusts the doll in your face.

“Really?” you say trying to match even a quarter of her excitement. “Is she mmm… a firefighter?”

“No!” she squeals, delighted in the game you play with her.

Making a big show of putting a finger to your temple and closing one eye, apparently deep in thought, you ask, “Is she a… detective?”

“No that was yesterday!” she’s practically buzzing to tell you, but holds it in to keep this game going.

“Oh!” you say, pretending to have a lightbulb moment. “She’s a wizard!” You know your daughter well enough, so you’re reasonably confident in your guess knowing that Jenny took her to see that Disney movie today.

“No,” she laughs, “She’s an actress, but she also sings in all her movies.”

“O-oh,” you say, genuinely caught off guard by that. “Why’s that?” It’s certainly not an unusual thing for a little girl to declare, but for your daughter it most definitely was. When she declared what Barbie was going to be it was always influenced by something she saw that day. Sometimes she was a baker, sometimes a ballerina, even one memorable time a bus driver, but this is a first. Even when she has seen movies with actors in it she didn’t quite understand the concept that those aren’t their real jobs on screen, and she would pick that, which is why you guessed wizard.

“Because Danny does that,” she declares, as she starts to make Barbie dance on the dinner table.

And then it made sense, your daughter’s friend, Danny, who according to Jenny, has a penchant for making up stories. To your daughter the boy’s been a cowboy, a soldier, he’s as strong as superman, can play any instrument, and now apparently is a famous actor.

You give an amused huff, “I see Danny’s at it again,” you state, as you take her plate. It’s a literal miracle that Jenny’s impromptu trip to the candy store didn’t spoil her appetite, and but you don’t know how much of an appetite she’ll have for dessert so you decide to just split a slice of King cake with her.

“At what mama?” she asks as Gina wipes some of her food off her face.

“He’s telling stories again,” you say as you bring Gina and Susan their dessert plates.

“No he’s not,” she states, furrowing her brow, and you can’t help but quirk a smile at how stressed she looks as you sit down. “I saw it myself.”

“I’m sure you did, but Honey, it's just… sometimes boys have a habit of telling… tall tales,” you suppose that’s the nice way of putting it. It’s a fine line you walk with her, wanting to have her believe in herself most of all, but also wanting her to not believe everything she’s told, especially by boys. You’re the textbook example of what happens to supposedly smart girls who get in too deep with charming boys.

“But it’s true mama,” she insists, raising her voice a bit.

“Sweetheart, I think he means, he wants to be that when he grows up,” you try to gently justify, as you subtly try to nudge the fork closer to her.

“No mama, I saw it,” she asserts, getting progressively more upset defending her friend. “He is a famous actor and he was singing and dancing at the theater.”

“And I’m sure he’s gonna be a big star one day when he’s all grown up,” you try to assuage how worked up she’s getting. “But I don’t think he’s one right now.”

“No mama!” she yells at the top of her lungs, angry tears streaming down her face. “You’re a liar!” You feel your stomach drop to the floor and she herself looks shocked at what she just said. She proceeds to cry even harder before turning tail and running straight into the room you share with her and slamming the door as hard as she could.

When you were far enough away, and somewhat comfortable in your new environment in Your Aunties home, the first thing you did was read nearly every book about motherhood you could find. You were determined to do this right as you had made the unilateral decision for your baby to only have one parent. So you decided as a means of making up for it you would be all the parent she would need.

Doubt creeps into the back of your throat that you made the wrong decision and that you in fact were not enough on your own and that she never would have done that if He were around.

“You want me to go talk to her?” Gina would ask after hearing your door slam shut.

As bad as you want to say yes from the exhausting day you’ve had so far, you’re not about to foist your duties as a mother off onto her right now. She understands but you don’t miss the pointed look she gives to Sue, as she walks away to clean up dinner, and you bury your hand in your face hoping if you wish hard enough this day will finally come to a close.

“I remember the first time I yelled at my mama,” Sue off-handedly says after a few minutes. “Always too scared that that wretched woman would beat me black and blue if I was ever less than perfect,” she takes a sip of her tea. “And she did just that when I got fed up with all her teasing about me getting a boyfriend.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“What I’m gettin’ at is… I was never comfortable enough with my own mother to be angry with her.”

“Am I bad at this?”

“You’re still new at this Hon,” she reassures you. “There's a big difference.”

Despite the fact that Gina was the one related to you by blood, Sue’s the only one in the world who even has an inkling as to what exactly you left behind. And that is only because she was a front row spectator to it.

You had managed to get permission to leave the hotel room for a few hours while He was on set that day. He had brought you down from Memphis, not wanting you so far out of reach and yet you were still pretty much kept confined. You had long since exhausted the books you had brought for the trip, and you were practically itching to get out.

Books were your only escape from this place. Where you could vicariously solve a mystery or meet royalty or stop a war or any other number of exciting things in your head. But inevitably you close the book and the story ends and your back in this fucking hotel room.

You realize by getting more books you're just masking a symptom rather than actually treating the illness. You couldn’t take it anymore and had begged Him to at least let you go to a bookstore to keep you occupied, because by that point you were willing to pay the price for it.

Sue had been the only one in the store the day but you hadn’t really taken notice of her, your eyes had been darting around everywhere trying to find Gina. Sonny was in there as well, as you were only able to bargain your way to being in here and picking out the books, but not enough to be able to enter the store alone. Sonny had been the one to pull the short straw and had been put on Y/N duty today. Usually that consisted of sitting in the hotel and making sure you didn’t go anywhere while also completely ignoring you.

Everybody knows the story of the last guy that paid a little too much attention to you. You still couldn’t look at raw ground beef without crying.

Outside of the occasional gathering you don’t really interact with anybody out of the immediate vicinity of home. It’s funny how He can put you in a room filled to the brim with his people yet make you feel so alone at the same time. It would be amazing if it didn’t make you feel so awful at the same time.

It’s a terrible thing He does, but it’s made all the worse that so many people can see what he’s doing keeping you prisoner and isolated and yet no one will ever dare breach it

If anything they actually help him as they all report to him practically what you did that day, do their best to talk you out of leaving the room, and even when you do insist on going off on your own, the men are quick to remind you that He won’t like it one bit. They won’t physically stop you, (they know the worst thing they can do is put their hands on you) but you know that’s where their “help” begins and ends.

At one point you even tried to play ball and asked for His permission last time you were in LA and you had wanted to go to the Griffith Observatory. You had asked in advance, agreed to only being there for two hours, and even gave in to being essentially chaperoned from a distance. Initially He had agreed to the terms and You thought you had done good and maybe you were finally coming to somewhat of a middle ground with him.

But in the days leading up to the trip He would ask for favors in return. They all just happened to be things you had refused to do for him up until that point. When you refused He would at first seemingly accept your answer, and then He would idly remind you of your upcoming trip before asking you again. You weren’t stupid enough to miss the connection and so you did what you thought you had to do for just the slightest taste of freedom.

Who are you kidding?

You practically begged and did tricks for Him like a dog for just the slightest bit of slack on your leash.

You could barely move the morning of the trip both physically and emotionally drained from what he had you do the night before, but you still persevered if only to make all that you went through worth it.

It wasn’t worth it.

Everything you saw that day was completely soured by what you had to do to get there. Every step felt like agony, and you had to make a conscious effort to not walk funny. And before you knew it the two hours were up and Red was telling you it was time to leave.

You don’t know what’s worse, the punishments or the favors.

You had to go the favor route today as otherwise he would have simply sent for someone to get you whatever books they could find, rather than letting you pick. You already know you’re going to get it when he finds out you went to a different bookstore than initially planned. You thought you could at the very least make it worth it by seeing one familiar face, but even fate denied you that as Gina was nowhere to be seen.

It was cold enough to justify wearing something to cover up most of the bruises, but that didn’t mean they were all hidden. You wouldn’t know it at the time but your skittishness coupled with the bruises struck a chord with Susan before you fully checked out of the store.

“I’m sorry if this sounds like an odd question but ummm…” you say, glancing around, making sure that Sonny was too far to hear. “Does Gina work here?”

Sue immediately tenses up, and you curse your caginess, as you reassure her that you’re Gina’s niece, Y/N. She seems to relax hearing that so at least she knows that you try to maintain a good relationship, sporadic your letters may be.

“What happened there honey?” she asks, gesturing to your wrist that has a ring of bruises on it, which you quickly move to hide. You internally curse yourself for your sloppiness. He doesn’t mean to hurt you but he tends to lose himself and be a little rougher especially when he’s worried about something else.

He’s been a little rougher for a few months now.

“Oh-ummm,” you steal a glance at Sonny, who was making his way to the counter. “Yes I am ready to check out.” Gesturing to the three towers of books you’ve managed to accumulate.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sue nor does she miss Sonny's statement of remembering the rules as to what you’re allowed to get, if her disapproving look is anything to go by. He’s fine with you reading but doesn’t like you reading books that will put “ideas” in your head.

You don’t exactly know what that means as the standards seem to change depending on His mood and it’s always a gamble as to what he will or won’t allow you to have. You fear the day He grows the same hatred for fictional men that he has for any man within your vicinity.

You're genuinely sad when it comes time to pay, (Well Sonny pays, He doesn’t like the idea of you handling money), and then Susan does something you could never have anticipated in a million years as Sonny grabs one stack and goes to put it in the car.

You wished it had been anybody but Sonny that day. His last girlfriend, whom he swore he was gonna make Mrs. Sonny West, had made the mistake of trying to befriend you outside of gatherings. She stopped by the house frequently just to visit and even invited you out to the salon.

And it was your mistake to believe you could have a friend that he would finally approve of. Friend or family, He eventually found something to disapprove of for everybody close to you previously. You thought that because she was already nominally part of the group, it would be fine to go.

He made it clear by the time you got home that it wasn’t.

You never saw her again after that and Sonny’s resented you ever since. You can hardly blame him, it’s easier to point the finger at you for not anticipating the unspoken rules, as opposed to the man who signs his checks and makes the rules.

You know that even the slightest toe out of line will be reported back to Him in the worst light. So you had to be on your best behavior.

“Y’know I highly recommend this book,” Sue says, sliding the book she had been reading at the counter to you.

Wide Sargasso Sea, the cover reads.

“Oh thank you but I already paid,” you say, almost afraid of this conversation. “And besides I already have enough books.”

“Sweetheart you can never have too many,” she insists and without looking opens it up to the first page where you see a little handwritten note. She closes it up before you can see what it says and slyly slots it in the middle of a stack.

Later on when you feel sufficiently safe enough to look at it you nearly burst into tears.

In case you need help

feel free to call

(xxx-xxxx)

Such a small thing really, but it’s the most human connection you’ve had with anyone else but Him in a long time.

You spend the next hour or two committing that string of numbers to memory before you proceed to rip out that page, shred it, and flush the remnants down the toilet.

Even when you were burning the number into your brain, you never thought you would have ever had the guts to use it. Back when you thought you could accept what looked to be your fate.

It would be unfair to say it was all bad, after all there was a reason you did fall for Him in the first place. When you would read mysteries and He would listen to you criticize the culprits' plans and schemes and he would look in awe at how you would’ve gotten away with it. Or how fun it was to sneak out with him, your family none the wiser. Even when things got bad and it felt like He was the only one that would talk to you for days, you cherished it because it truly felt like he was your life line.

When things were good they were great, it was just when they were bad did you start to recognize them.

Things were bad a lot towards the end.

Gladys had been one of the few willing to go to bat for you, and perhaps the only one who He would listen to. She was the only one who could set him straight when he got huffy at the thought of you having some basic independence of being able to go outside and not needing to be watched like a child all the time.

She was the one you went to with your suspicions and early symptoms, when you were too afraid to go to the doctor that reported right back to Him.

She had also been the only one who knew your fears about having this baby. In your mind there were a total of two possibilities for the life the baby would live. One that they would live a life like yours, isolated within the walls of the house under their fathers obsessive gaze, never to experience the outside world. Or two He would hate the baby on principle and see it as just competition for your time and attention like he did with everybody else.

She did her best to try to quell your fears, trying to assert He would never do either of those things, especially, the last one.

But you saw it in her eyes how she knows how sour He would get when he would come home to find you playing with his younger cousins. How He gets when someone new so much as looks your way a beat too long, or has the gall to get your attention.

How you’re barely allowed to talk to other girls your own age and that’s only saved for special occasions when his friends bring their girlfriends and He’s otherwise occupied. And even then He has a penchant for just removing you from them just to have you sit with him, and you’re out in the awkward position of being the odd one out in his group.

How when you did gather up the nerve to bring up the topic of babies to him one night his answer was “I ain’t ready to share ya’ darlin’, I don’t think I’ll eva be.”

But your most hard-hitting evidence was what happened to your dog, Hardy. He had been an old stray you saw skulking around the property, and whom you took in when He was touring. Hardy didn’t have much of an interest in running around or playing fetch, just sitting by your side and eating treats.

Everything was good until He returned. You knew it was gonna be trouble the moment He walked through the door and saw you scratching the dog’s belly. Inspite of the fact that Hardy was usually tolerant of strangers, something about Him immediately put the usually placid dog on edge. You immediately got to work on trying to find some sort of compromise in regards to him, and offered everything from making Hardy a permanently outside dog to even being willing to have him be boarded with a family member while He was home.

You had asked Gladys where Hardy was the very next morning when you couldn’t find him anywhere, only to be told that He had taken him out for a walk. You didn’t have the heart to be told a lie when He returned alone.

He started taking you with him at that point, and you hardly knew a moment's peace after that.

Your attention is not your own to freely give away, let alone your affection, He expects it all to go to him. He did lord knows what to a dog that had had the misfortune of occupying some of your time when he was there, you hardly wanted to chance the life of a baby that would need all of it.

However in spite of all of that, you thought with her by your side you would be able to weather his reaction, whatever it may be. Even if your worst fear came to be and He didn’t really want anything to do with the baby, you could at least have someone to love the baby just as fiercely even when you were otherwise occupied by Him. It wasn’t necessarily fair, but you could somewhat see the function of it, and in spite of the weariness he’s instilled in you by that point, you were still reasonably confident in your ability to plan for the long term.

And then Gladys died.

And you were left to navigate the hardest thing you could face alone.

“Ain’t nobody ever talks about how hard this can be. Or how easy it is to mess up,” Sue continues as she polishes off her plate. “But maybe…” she prods. “If you had a partner to help ease the load, you wouldn’t doubt yourself so much.”

You groan at this point wanting to truly be done with this day already. “Not this again,” you bemoan.

“Honey,” she says with a firm but comforting grip on your shoulder. “I know a thing or two about leaving bad things behind, but I do think sometimes you need to let someone else in to help you recover,” she says. And almost like they rehearsed it, Gina comes in with a mug of tea, and a kiss to Susan’s forehead as she demands she go back to bed to rest up.

You want to argue back that you did a good enough job of recovering by yourself, but that’s hardly fair to say considering how you were about as helpless as Rosie herself that first year and a half you were here. You had thought that you would’ve been out of here maybe a couple months after giving birth, and been in a completely new place with no ties whatsoever. But the reality is that there’s no possible way you or Rosie would have survived without the help they were so willing to give.

And that’s all they’re trying to do now.

You take a minute to fully gather yourself, as you realize you being upset won’t help Rosie in the slightest. You also pick up the slice of cake, as you don’t want her to think she’s being punished for being upset with you.

You find her hiding underneath the blankets of the bed you share with her and you can only hear sniffling at this point. You try to approach this delicately, as this is new territory for the both of you, so you place the cake on the nightstand, crawl underneath the sheets with her, and allow for her to come to you. Luckily you don’t have to wait for long.

“Mama!” she cries as she buries her face in your bosom, her tears already soaking through the cotton material. “Mama, I didn’t mean it! Please don’t be mad! I’m sorry Mama! Please don’t leave.”

“Sweetheart it’s okay,” you reassure her, running your nails up and down her back, as it always did the trick of settling her down when she was a baby. “Mama’s not goin’ anywhere without you. I’m always gonna be with you.” You hardly put her down her first year of life, going against all the books and holding her at just about every possible moment, so you can hardly fathom where she got this idea in her head that you would leave if you got upset with her. But remembering what Jenny had told you earlier, you have the sneaking suspicion it is related to her noticing the lack of a father in her life.

“I’m sorry mama! I’m sorry…” she repeats over and over again, and for each time you make sure to reassure her that nothing she could ever do would make you leave.

Finally when she’s tired herself out and her eyes are red and raw do you finally speak. “Rosie, it’s okay to be mad, but it’s not okay to be mean, because you’re mad,” you say softly to her running your nails on her back, something that has always soothed her.

She rubs her eyes and wipes her runny nose before looking up at you again, and gives a groggy “I understand Mama.”

“Good,” you say, kissing her forehead. “Now can you help me finish this cake.”

You see her eyes widen before she eagerly grabs the fork and dives right in. With your help, it’s not long before it’s almost entirely gone and when she takes that final bite of the cake she goes wide-eyed sticking her fingers in her mouth to pick out the errant piece. “What’s this Mama?” she says holding the little porcelain baby up.

“Oh you found it Rosie,” you say excitedly, “This means you’re going to have good luck.”

“... Like a wish?”

“Sort of,” you answer.

She gives an excited shriek before she clasps the little figurine in her hands and whispers something almost inaudible to it, with the only recognizable words being “Danny” and “Neverland.” You’re slightly disappointed that your lesson hadn’t quite landed today, but you choose to leave it for now, as you don’t see the harm in wishing to go to a non-existent magical place.

Once teeth are brushed and pajamas are put on, Rosie settles into bed, but not before making sure you’re not about to break your long-held tradition of storytime. She’s the type of kid who when she likes one story she demands to hear it over and over again.

And lately she’s latched onto Rapunzel.

The whole concept does unsettle you greatly, for how close it is to your story. But whatever qualms you have with the story you’re not gonna deny your daughter, because your problems are your own cross to bear, not hers.

As you read it you get to the part where the witch mother casts her out of the tower and she wanders the forests with her children. You wonder if Rapunzel ever found joy in those years away from the mother who isolated her, away from the prince who could have taken advantage of her. She survived not only on her own, but kept others alive as well. WHat did she do? Did she forage and hunt for her babies, did she find a village where she could work to support her family?

Sometimes you wonder if she did truly live happily after the end of the story, or if she traded one cage for another as you did before.

Your daughter is long asleep by the time you reach the happily ever after part of the story. She’s still in the habit of sucking her thumb at night, so you gently remove it, and put one of her favorite stuffies in her arms. And that marks the end of your daily duties, so in theory you should be able to finally fall asleep and be done with this day.

In theory.

In actuality you creep out of the bed you share with your daughter into the single bathroom of the apartment. Usually her steady breathing tends to be enough to get you to fall asleep, it’s been that way ever since she was a baby, but you’re left feeling agitated having had to think of Him more than usual today.

Not just because of the song on the radio, but Rosie’s outburst reminded you far too much of her father. It feels like the worst injustice that she mimics someone who isn’t even here.

Now that ain’t my fault now is it darlin’? A familiar voice whispers in your mind. You feel a shudder run down your spine at the thought of him, not to mention the way you shamefully feel yourself pool within your underwear. You slide down the bathroom door, out of sight of the mirror, as though that will prevent you from facing what you’re about to do. You even close your eyes for good measure as your hand reaches your folds and your fingers caress the slick outer lips of your pussy.

You had tried to ignore this part of yourself for so long. You justified it during your pregnancy, as your body had been making you want to do other stupid things like sleep right in the middle of the store or eat paint chips. Even after giving birth and your inner feelings remaining unchanged, you justified it by thinking you were just particularly lonely, and for all that he kept you isolated, you were never alone when you were with him. Or that he was the only man you ever knew that way so he’s all you had to go off of in order to satisfy these urges.

For as much as your mind curses Him for ever coming into your life, even after all these years, your body has yet to catch up.

You’re far from unique in your desire for him, but it’s especially shameful for you as you know what he’s truly like. It’s like scratching a mosquito bite, you may know that it’ll just make the itching worse, but dear god did it feel good in the moment.

But even that is far from an accurate description as you plunge your on fingers into your sopping channel in a poor imitation of what you remember.

You bite your lip in an effort to keep noises at bay but it just makes you concentrate on the wet squelching sounds echoing through the bathroom as you plunge your fingers into yourself. The sharp sting of pain forcing your mind back to where you experience the most of it.

“You’re so sweet darlin’,” he purrs, his jaw glistening from your juices having just made a feast of you for the past hour or so. He had made it a game to see how close he could bring you without actually letting you cum, something he tends to do when someone looks your way for a little too long, as though he means to re-establish his claim over you. That only he can give you pleasure like this but take it away on a whim if he chooses.

“No more…” you beg, new tears forming and following the trail previously set, your lips undoubtedly bruised from how much you have been chewing on them throughout. “Please,” your thighs aching from the death grip he has them in, undoubtedly leaving bruises for you to feel in the morning.

“Alright,” he says seemingly conceding. But before you can breathe a sigh of relief, he continues, “we’ll switch it up for tonight.”

He flips you over to your front, spreads your legs wide open again, and dives right back in.

You can’t help the way you’re left trembling from the memory, but what does shake you somewhat is the when you realize that it’s not simply the ghost of the memory that is making you feel that bruising pressure on your inner thigh, but in fact your own hand keeping it there.

Still the masochist within you that yearns for the ghost of a man you once thought you knew takes a hold and refuses to let go now that you’re so close to release. So you give in and continue your frantic movements biting down hard on your lip to prevent any errant cries from leaving, and grip onto your thigh for dear life, even now trying to deny yourself that you want him here with you.

As you’re coming down from your high, you fight back your tears of shame. Trying to remind yourself why you left in the first place. How for all the moments he made you feel amazing, they weren’t worth the amount of grief he caused you on a near day-to-day basis.

Grief he’s still causing you more like it.

You don’t think you could have written a better love story in the beginning. You met him when your eyes locked on each other from across your favorite bookstore back in Memphis. He had oh so shyly approached you and asked what you were reading, a bit starry eyed as he listened. Back then and arguably still the concept of a man listening to you was such a novel and unique thing to experience.

It progressed from there, hand-holding in the school hallway, shared milkshakes at the local diner, and Sunday dinners with his family. Of course there were the less than wholesome aspects of your relationship of stray hands when no one was looking and heated kisses after a particularly rousing performance.

Truly the hallmarks of the greatest love story the world had ever seen.

If only you knew how wrong a love story can go, because your story went very wrong.

You vividly remember your first time with him.

Undoubtedly the cruelest thing he ever did to you.

You were never supposed to find out about the other girls, well that’s not true. The newspapers sure knew about them but he had convinced you that it was all nonsense and that he would never do that to you. All of his friends knew, hell even some of their girlfriends knew, but ideally you were never supposed to find out.

But the only chink in the armor was that there was in fact someone who had wanted you out as soon as he stepped in. Fact of the matter is that he was practically giddy as he told you what your fiance had been doing on the road up until that point. You were heartbroken and humiliated as to what he did and even more so when you learned he had been gearing up to break up with you the night he proposed, but only stopped when he realized that you wouldn’t be waiting for him, once his career settled.

He had been calling your house non-stop and sending his friends over all with the mission to coax you into talking to him. Worse still he even got your own friends in on it and now you can’t have a single conversation with any of them that doesn’t turn into them telling you how sorry he feels for hurting you and how he desperately wants you back.

The only people, aside from his manager, that were happy at this development were your parents. They had liked him up until he started to really take off in his career, and they wanted none of the controversy, especially when it came to your squeaky clean, good girl image they had for you.

They’ve been walking around with the smuggest “I told you so” looks ever since you announced that you were done with him. If only they knew their good girl had been sneaking in her boyfriend for the past three years and had a whole routine for doing so.

But the downside to this is that He was just as aware of the routine as you were. And despite it having been awhile he evidently remembered enough as he stood outside your window, right after all the lights in your house had gone out.

“Get outta here,” you hiss at him, opening the window just a crack. “You’re gonna wake up my parents.”

“Baby I gotta talk to you,” he pleads, his face utterly heartbroken. Guilt eats at you, knowing how there were days you wished you could go back to not knowing at all. But then you get angry at not only him but yourself for these thoughts.

If only all of your love for him had died the moment you found out, you would’ve had the strength to shut the window on him that night, and your life probably would’ve taken a very different course.

But no, you’re hurt and you felt that you had to have the final word. “Talk to one a your other girls,” you say as you move to close your window but he beats you to it and ends up opening it wider, allowing for him to fully step into your space.

“Get out,” you say severely. “Get out, or I’ll scream.”

“Darlin’, please listen,” he begs.

“Don’tchu ‘baby’ ‘darlin’ me,” you whisper-yell.

“I swear things’ll be different this time round,” he pleads, clasping his hands in yours.

“I’m done with your nonsense, I want you outta my house and outta my life.” tears are already streaming down your face and you make no motion to wipe them away. If he’s gonna hurt you like this he deserves to know.

He looks at you. Truly looks at you and sees that you’re dead serious about this, that for you there is no coming back from this.

“Okay,” he says solemnly, looking down at you more defeated than you’ve ever seen him, unfelled tears doting his eyes, and his bottom lip trembling.

That takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it. “Good,” you say, trying to stamp down the urge to be mad that he’s not fighting harder. There is a hurricane of emotions going through your entire being, hating him and loving him at the same time, but you recognize that you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of being able to sort through said emotions while he’s here.

“But…”

“But?” you say, confused as to what more there is to say.

“Let me have you,” he begs breathlessly, stepping closer to you, boxing you into the wall behind you. “Just for tonight,” he clarifies as though that’s gonna make it better.

That offends you but you can’t afford to raise your voice so you hiss at him that it’s not as though you didn’t offer when he was here. “I ain’t ever gonna forgive myself for bein’ so stupid and steppin’ out on you, I-I thought I had more time, tha-that we’d got the rest of our lives together,” he says his voice painfully small, and his eyes pleading with you to agree.

Your heart swells hearing his words, pleading with your brain to forgive him seeing how much pain the thought of never being with you again is causing the both of you. Another, unmentionable part is also hounding your brain to accept his offer if only for the fact that you had wanted this yourself for so long.

“If-If I do that…” you say in a low voice, your face burning as to what the both of you want but aren’t saying aloud. “Then you’ll leave and never come back?” though even as you say that you’re not exactly sure how you feel over that prospect.

“Just one night sweetheart,” he begs, giving you a quick desperate kiss to your lips. “One night to know what a life with you could’ve been like, and I’ll be outta yer hair forever,” he says with a quick peck to your lips.

He makes it almost sound romantic, not like he’s quite literally backing you into a corner, and coaxing you into something you’re not sure you want just so that you would finally know peace from him. But that's far from your mind as that little bit of contact does something to you and it’s like opening the floodgates for all the feelings for him you’ve been trying to bury.

It feels like you're transported to almost a year ago when, he would sneak his way back into your room after having said his goodbyes to your family and parking his car around the corner out of view. How you both move your blankets and pillows onto the floor to avoid the creaky springs of your mattress, how you both keep your voices low, and muffle most sounds with the pillows, how he kicks off his shoes and unbuttons his shirt before slowly undressing you, your body being treated like a present to unwrap.

Like this it’s easy to forget what he did, easy to forget the pain he’s caused when he’s treating you so sweetly. Kissing every inch of skin, nipping at your sensitive skin every so often, before laving at the bruising area with his tongue. You bite down on your lip hard, willing yourself to keep a cap on the filthy moans and declarations of love alike.

You had done things with him before but it had never felt quite like this. He had always been insistent that you wait until the wedding night for that, wanting to savor you and all you had to offer before the time came. Which made it feel all the worse when you did find out about those other girls. Your friends had tried to justify it by saying that he was just getting in some “practice” for you, but that hardly made it feel any better.

But the way he touches you, so sure of his newfound skills, it’s almost easy to forgive him. He treats you almost deceptively sweet, and for as hard as you try to keep yourself quiet, you admittedly don’t do a great job at it. But you manage to keep a good enough lid on yourself. But as it goes on it feels like he himself forgets that he had to do the same, as moans and groans alike continue to escape from his mouth.

That should’ve been your first clue that he was up to something, but by then as he continues to bury himself deeper and deeper into you, you can’t focus on much else. Had you been thinking straight you would remember he arguably has better control of himself than you do, as he often would tease you over it.

But in the moment that’s not what you’re thinking about. All you had on your brain was him, and how good and right he felt.

If you could go back in time you think you would’ve strangled your younger, far more naive self, as now in retrospect it became clear what he was planning on doing. He had no qualms to exposing what you had done already with him if it meant merely getting a chance to talk to you, why wouldn’t he take the opportunity to go full scorched earth if given the chance.

He continues his steady rhythm, and when he whispers in your ear, “It’s only ever gonna be you, darlin’,” you find yourself letting out a silent scream. Your eyes screwed shut, so lost in the pleasure of it all, you would only get the tail-end of the disdainful look he would give upon failing to get you to crack.

Still you vividly remember how conflicted you did feel in the moment, how for all that it felt good, it also made your stomach turn, for all the hurt he’s caused you yet how deceptively sweet he could be to you. It just gave you a serious case of whiplash.

But you were so focused on keeping as quiet as possible not even being able to fathom the heap of trouble you would be in should your parents ever find out. You could hardly fathom the agent of your destruction laid within you, but it wasn’t until it was too late did it truly click.

That devious look he had in his eyes, the one that spoke nothing but trouble. The very same look that seemingly first trapped you all those years ago when you caught it staring at you from across the bookstore. He picked up his rhythm, not allowing for you to fully recover, from the last time, as he pistons into you seeking out release for himself.

You were so dizzy in that moment you didn’t register how he raised his hand onto your night table, before quickly slamming it three times into the wall.

The very wall you shared with your parents.

Even in the moment you didn’t fully recognize what he had just done, everything sort of blurring together. Before you can even hope to get your bearings, he’s spinning the both of you around so that you now were on top of him, his fingers digging bruises into your hips, as he thrusts back up into you, no longer trying to feign tenderness, as he seems to rip another climax from you as he lets an unrestrained groan fall from his lips, while your inner walls tighten around him.

Even in your haze, you realize that this is bad, and you manage to gather yourself enough to slap your hand over his mouth, but that does little to muffle the singer. Especially as it seems as though he's hellbent to be heard. “What did you just do?” you ask unbelieving, frozen in fear even as you hear the muffled shouts of your father through the wall. You feel underneath your palm as his mouth curls into a grin, as he shudders and you feel his hot seed burn you from within. And that’s when you hear the powerful footfalls of your father burst out of his room before he slams open your bedroom door.

You can only imagine the image you make at that moment, naked sitting astride the nearly fully clothed boy you had sworn up and down for weeks you were done for good with. “What in the hell is going on in here!” your father shouts at the top of his lungs.

Everything after that happens in a blur of your fathers harsh shouts and the sharp sting that comes from your mothers hand across your face as she calls you a whore. By the time it’s all said and done you’re on your knees at the front door begging them to let you back into the house.

“Take her with you,” your daddy practically spat at him as he tossed you to your knees outside of what was once your home. “I didn’t raise no whores, and you seem to now be in the business a collectin’ them.”

You can almost hear the sound of a rattlesnake as his arm coils around your shoulder, laying his jacket over your weeping form like a gentleman. “Don’tchu worry baby,” he whispers in your ear.

He’s almost angelic in his appearance, playing the savior role well, having escaped your home relatively unscathed and in remarkably high-spirits for the situation. But you don’t have much of a choice in the moment, remembering Gina’s words of how easily this family will toss aside wayward women, but it never truly sunk in that you were liable to become one.

He would tell everybody that your daddy had thrown you out after asserting that you still wanted to be with Him in spite of all of that he’s done, and your folks practically disowned you for it. You let him say what he wants because you don’t see a point in telling the truth and if you’re being honest, part of you wants to believe it. It was a far more romantic story than what had actually happened.

As you’re coming down from your second and somehow less satisfying orgasm, does the guilt start to creep in. Even after all these years you still yearn for his touch.

But that is so much easier to admit than the alternative of missing Him.

It eats at you that you still think of Him like this after all that he did to you, and worse still it’s almost like you want him to come back.

Your heart practically leaps out your chest when you hear a soft knock at the door and for one horrifying second you think you’ve somehow summoned him to you.

“Mama…” you hear a small voice whimper behind the locked door, and you breathe a sigh of relief. “Mama, I threw up.”

You don’t know if it’s a consolidation of three different people telling you the same thing in one day, the culmination of your late night loneliness for the past four or so years, or the noxious fumes of the truly unholy combination of stomach acid, red beans, and Jelly Beans that you had to clean up in your sleep deprived state, but you come to the conclusion that you can no longer do this by yourself.

Being a mother tended to be enough of a deterrent to most men in the city, which didn’t bother you one bit, but it did make you feel all the worse when you did meet the few who were still willing even after learning about Rosie.

Sam or Lou may very well have been as nice and understanding as they seemed to be, but because of Him, you now look suspiciously at every man trying to get close.

Perhaps the women in your life were onto something and it is about time for you to move on with your life. Because if you resolve yourself to being for all intents and purposes a shut-in who never knew another man’s touch other than His, then you ran for nothing.

So it’s with a semi-defeated sigh that you tell Jenny the next morning to send over Lee’s friend to the shop while you’re working to “see how it goes.”

You do admittedly put a little more effort into your appearance than you would on an average day and you perk up every time a man who looked close to your age walked in. But if any of them were sent by Jenny they didn’t mention it.

You only ever had one boyfriend when you were a teen, so it feels more than a bit intimidating to go into this, but you can’t deny yourself a life anymore.

Afterall if you don’t then you may as well have stayed in Memphis.

The day goes by and of the few men that do enter the shop, of the few that seem interested in you, none of them knew who Jenny was.

It’s well past closing and feeling both tired and rejected, however the bane of your existence you call Jenny has yet to return, so you instead just flip the sign without properly locking up and hope they’ll be back soon. This isn’t necessarily unusual but you’re just eager for this day to end and hope that a nice cuddle with your daughter will be enough to lift your spirits.

But for now there are books that need to be out back.

Soon you finally hear the shop bell ring, but instead of the comforting tiny footsteps or the recognizable clack of Jenny’s heels, you instead hear an unfamiliar pattern of heavy footsteps over the low volume of the radio. You look between the shelves from where you’re stocking books in the back and while you can’t make out specific details you see what is undoubtedly the shape of a man standing at the counter.

“I’m sorry Sir,” you announce still from behind the shelf. “We’re closed for the evening, but please feel free to return tomorrow.”

“Oh I ain’t going anywhere sweetheart,” a voice drawls.

A voice you would recognize anywhere.

You think you begin to understand at that moment why some animals will chew off their own arms to escape a trap. After all, what is a limb or two in the face of inevitable doom? And even when they do eventually die, they will at least go with their head held high knowing that they did all that they could, because better dead than captured.

But you stand there frozen, barely capable of breathing at a steady rate. You feel like every drop of blood has been drained from your body. Like someone reached into your lungs and snatched the air right out of them. Like your bones have lost all integrity and you’re only kept standing by the mere fact you don’t want to draw attention to yourself.

He is here.

Elvis is here.

Not only that but the footsteps getting louder tell you he is getting closer.

Fuck.

Your mind is going a million miles an hour to try to get out of this, but all of them fall flat when you remember your daughter is not here and if you were to run that would just leave her in his clutches. So rather than act on any plan, you walk out from behind the bookshelf, because there is no point fighting the inevitable.

You’re hoping your look isn’t so much deer in the headlights and more awestruck and in disbelief that he found you. Which is true to some extent as you thought you had been so careful all these years, so all you can muster out when you see him for the first time is a pathetic little “h-how?”

Your hackles raise slightly as you see him reach behind him, and to your surprise he pulls out an old battered copy of Nancy Drew. You’re so confused for a second until you recognize it as yours.

One of the many that Gina would send you periodically when you lived with your parents.

One of the many that had the name of this very store stamped to the inner cover.

One of the many you took with you when you were kicked out.

One of the many left behind at Graceland.

Fuck.

You want to kick yourself both for being so careless in your haste to leave, but you have no time for that as he says, “I ain’t as smart as you baby, but I figured out your breadcrumbs eventually.”

He thinks you wanted him to find you.

Didn’tchu though?

“E-Elvis…” you whisper, the single name somehow feeling wrong as it comes out of your mouth. You’ve avoided even thinking about it all these years, as though if you try hard enough you’ll be able to purge him from your mind and thus from your life. As though simply uttering it will somehow summon him.

That theory isn’t disproven as he, as usual, wastes no time in getting straight to what he came here for, his long legs carrying himself to you as he moves to engulf you within his arms. You stave off the immediate instinct of putting your hands up and allow this to happen, remembering what used to happen when you would deny him.

He even goes so far as to spin you around, and you lose your footing and have to rely on him in order to not face plant onto the floor. But this works all the better to create the image of the long-lost lovers joyfully reuniting after so long.

But as he gazes into your eyes, it isn’t fully complete until he leans down to capture your lips. You would like to say you had to force yourself not to flinch away, but even you would know you’re not that good of a liar.

It’s a kiss for the ages truly, both all-consuming and yet leaving you longing for more. The pitfall of having denied getting close to anyone these past few years now show themselves full-force as you on instinct lean full-force into his touch, and welcome his kiss, even fully knowing how precarious your situation is.

All these years you never could’ve imagined how much you could miss touch- how much you could miss his touch. The kiss itself isn’t even broken until he roughly moves you against the bookshelf and forces his thigh between yours and your left gasping for air as you feel him for the first time.

And you can’t help the little whine that leaves your lips before you gather yourself once more to look him in the eyes.

“Did’ya miss me sweetheart?” he whispers against your lips.

“I…” you say, tears welling in your eyes. “I’ve thought about you every night.”

This is not a lie.

His fond expression doesn’t crack an inch as you say that, but before you can sigh an internal breath of relief, you feel a tight grip on your wrist as well as on your jaw.

“Then where’ve you been all these years,” he says, low and dangerous.

It’s certainly not an unfair question to ask. But you’ve been prepared to answer this question since the moment you stepped foot outside of Graceland for a quick errand.

You don’t know what he knows yet, and that’s terrifying.

“I…I…” you say in a quiet voice, all your years of preparation failing you when you needed it the most.

In the back of your mind, though you are loath to admit it, you think you always knew this day was coming, that he would find you, and the only thing you could do was to try to lessen the blowback you would experience. It’s why yours and your daughter’s last name is Love. It’s why you never tried to get involved with another man. It’s why you even made that goddamn deal in the first place.

“I’m going to disappear,” you say, casually taking a sip of your tea, not truly a fan of the taste, but lately it’s been one of the few things your sensitive stomach could handle. “And you’re gonna help me do that.” You couldn’t just ask anyone for help on this, you were surrounded only by sychophants who would do practically anything for Elvis, so you had to look elsewhere to the person whose only side he was on, was his own.

“And why would I help you?” The Colonel said, idly stirring his coffee, but obviously trying to mask the spark of interest in his eyes. For as much of a slimeball as he can be, you would be a fool to not acknowledge that he’s a decent enough businessman at the end of the day to recognize a good deal when he sees one.

“Because you want me gone as much as I wanna be gone,” you state. He hated that Elvis kept you around, even more so when Elvis made it clear he had no intention of staying a bachelor once he finished service.

Truly under any other circumstance he would be the last person in this house you would confide in, but though your desires were very different they did often run parallel. Something you realized when he talked Elvis out of eloping right before he got shipped out and into a long engagement. Truly the greatest boon you’ve been given since you’ve gotten here, the lack of recognizability or association with the rockstar will serve your purposes all the better.

“Can’t argue with that logic girl,” he says, taking a bite out of the muffins you had baked this morning as a peace offering to him. “Why do you even need my help?” he questions.

“Because I need someone to make sure that he doesn’t ever find me,” you declare, you had practiced this in your head so many times, too afraid to ever voice it aloud or write it down should any of it get back to him. Even an Ocean away you still feel his breath on the back of your neck, with the only safe place being inside your head.

You had excused yourself from following him to Germany by feigning sickness with the promise that you would join him as soon as you felt better. Which wasn’t hard to do considering your symptoms before he left, left you practically bedridden.

Ever since you figured out your… condition (it felt too scary to even think in your head, let alone voice out loud), your mind had been running rampant with all of the possibilities of how he would react. None of which you're willing to risk coming to fruition.

“And if I said No?” he asks, but from the look in his eyes he’s all but ready to pack your bags himself. Part of you feels guilty to leave the boy you once loved with such a man, but you have bigger things to worry about now.

“You’re absolutely free to say no, Parker,” you assure, but he’s savvy enough to know that’s not the end of it. You don’t know whether it’s you mimicking the late Gladys Presley, or something that comes natural with becoming a mother, however you do know you need to assert yourself now of all times, not just for your sake but your baby’s. “Regardless of your help or not, I’m gonna to leave. Now whether I’m gone for twenty minutes or twenty years, will all depend on you, but know that this will also determine how long you’ll be able to keep your position as Manager.”

He seems to bristle at your words, “And how do you figure dat Lil’ Miss?” he says with a dangerous look in his eyes as you seem to threaten the only thing he happens to care about. But once you do explain it he looks at you with no small amount of respect in his eyes as he mulls over your plan. “Quite devious,” he comments, literally tipping his hat at you. “I think I’m beginnin’ to get what he sees in you.”

You're far from proud of your plan, and the slimeball’s admiration of it doesn’t help either, but you know for a fact it will work, and Parker is gonna make damn sure that he doesn’t ever find you.

You made that plan practically bulletproof, but you never factored into account that you would choke in the moment that it truly matters. “Elvis I…” you trail off, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, clutching your hands on his shirt to keep yourself somewhat steady, trembling from the effort it takes to maintain that makeshift barrier. You’re either about to give the performance of a lifetime or… or…

You can’t think like that otherwise…

This has to work.

Your brain is going a million miles a minute, trying to remind yourself that you have to make this work if you have any hope of getting out of this without him ever having a chance of finding her.

But in real time you watch as this notion turns to ash in your mouth.

You feel as your blood freezes in your veins when you hear the door slam open only to be followed by the familiar little dashing footsteps. Your heart drops into your stomach as you hear your daughter stop dead in her tracks and you want to throw up at the thought of him laying eyes on her. This is truly what all your nightmares have been building up to, but even they paled in comparison to the reality of what would actually happen.

“Danny!!!” she squeals at the top of her lungs, before sprinting right into the arms of the man you were so desperately running from. You’re too shocked to do anything about it at the moment, and only watch in horror as something beyond your worst nightmare plays out before your very eyes.

Even when your instincts kick in to keep her away from him, he casually moves your hands out of the way as he easily scoops her up and over his head, practically playing keep away as you try to take her back. “Is today the day!?!?” she squeals, wrapping her arms around his neck as best she could, giving him a kiss on the cheek, none the wiser at the danger the two of you were in.

“It sure is baby girl,” he says with a mile wide grin on his face. “Why don’tcha go pack everything you’re gonna need in Neverland?” You don’t miss the way his eyes slide your way, no doubt trying to gauge your reaction.

She squeals in delight, as she jumps out of his arms and makes her way to the stairs, completely oblivious to your state.

Everything your daughter ever said about “Danny” suddenly makes a whole lot more sense, and you can’t help but want to kick yourself for not paying attention. You thought she was safe with Jenny, you want to throw up at the thought that you unintentionally sent her into the lion's den without her.

She doesn’t even have the decency to face you in that moment, seeing her right outside the window, in Lee’s arms -or Charlie as you would later learn- pointedly not looking in.

You don’t have the luxury of being mad as you feel his attention focus back on you in that moment.

“Now…,” he says as he brings your face closer to his, tenderly grabbing your chin, wiping away a tear. “You wanna try again, sweetheart,” he grins maliciously, knowing you’ll have no choice but to be “honest.”

And that’s it you have only one card left to play and you pray whatever forces that have written the story of your life will be merciful and let this plan work as you hoped it would all those years ago.

You fall to your knees and begin to sob uncontrollably into your palms. It’s actually easier than you had initially hoped, it in fact takes more effort not to cry when you think about him. It’s a miracle you’ve been able to stay this intelligible up to this point.

“Elvis,” you cry, trying to sound as pathetic and heartbroken as you possibly could. “Elvis I-I-I’m so sorry,” you stutter trying to really sell it. “He-he told me that you kn-knew and you didn’t want me anymore,” you hiccup for good measure. “Ho-how you couldn’t have a baby weighing you down, and that-that if I ever came back, he would make sure I would lose her for good.”

You start to hyperventilate, but it’s far from intentional, as you know your very life is at stake in this moment. If he doesn’t believe you… you can’t think like that.

You know him well enough to know that he won’t believe your words specifically, but he does believe in the world he’s created in his head. That regardless of what you feel, what you say, or even what you do, you love him and want to be with him- always. It’s just others preventing that from happening. It was the women who tempted him on the road, and then it was your family speaking poison in your ear, and then it was the men he couldn’t trust to not look your way. It was never you personally, regardless of how he would sometimes lash out at you, you wanted to be there because he wanted you to be there.

In the back of your mind when you had just barely begun to formulate leaving, you knew it would be foolish to believe there wasn’t a chance, no matter how slim, that he would find you. And you knew that it wouldn’t go without punishment should he ever find you should it ever occur. So you had to formulate a plan not just to leave, but how best to set yourself up if he ever returned.

(There have been some nights that you lay awake believing that you prepared so well not because you were paranoid, but because it was an inevitability.)

You hear his clothes shift as he kneels down before you, and he takes your chin into his hand though much gentler this time.

“Who’s ‘he’” he demands, voice as cold as a tomb.

He’s buying it, you think, though you have no time to celebrate. You let out a truly pathetic little blubber through your tears, purposefully unintelligible trying to sell the emotions.

“Who?” he asks, softer this time around, but no less urgent.

“The co-” you cut yourself off taking a deep steady breath. “The Colonel,” you whisper as though you fear speaking his name aloud will bring him to this very spot.

Parker’s far from innocent but you feel a slight twinge of guilt that his downfall would be for something he didn’t do as opposed to all the things he had done. But you can’t think like that anymore, it was gonna be either him or you.

Someone would need to suffer because of what you did, and you would be damned before it was you or your daughter.

And so Parker is now the villain who cruelly kept you and your daughter away from him, and not that you wanted so desperately to get away from him that you practically disappeared off the face of the Earth. But it seems like a fair trade. Parker loses his job, you lose your life. Maybe not in the literal sense, but in all the ways that matter you’ll be gone.

You don’t relax at all when you feel him gently cup your face in his hands to softly wipe your tears away. You look upon the devastatingly handsome man, as he looks as if he means to take you in his arms to never let you go.“Don’tchu worry baby,” he says, wiping your tears away. “You don’t gotta worry bout that rat bastard no more.” You let out a small cry, hoping it sounds more out of relief than out of devastation to his words. “So now you and Rosie can come home,” he states with a delusional smile on his face.

Despite the fact that you knew this would realistically end one of two ways, you can’t help but balk at the words. You try your best to smile at his words, but even you realize how hollow that gesture is, in spite of the part you know you’re meant to play in the moment, between the two of you, only one of you is an actor.

He’s having none of it as you feel the previously gentle hand cupping your face wrap around your throat. “Now. You. And. Rosie. Can. Come. Home.” he grits out, his grip around your neck tightening with each word emphasized.

He knows what your answer is, no doubt he’s just trying to rub salt in the wound knowing that it’s not a choice he’s giving you. This is all the proof you need that he doesn’t fully believe you, but is willing to play along. Leaving may have been forgivable, staying away for so long is another matter entirely.

He’s just punishing you for not being as enthusiastic as you should be at the prospect of coming “home,” as you should be.

You’re not playing pretend well enough.

“Mama!” Rosie squeals excitedly and when he lets go, you turn to see her making her way back downstairs, her favorite blanket now a makeshift rucksack of what you assume to be all toys dragging behind her. “Mama it worked!” she said, as she ran full tilt toward you, holding something in her palm. “Danny’s gonna take us to Neverland today.”

You see the little porcelain baby from the king cake and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere else. But you know better than to believe in wishes.

“Can we go now?” she says, her little hand grasping one of Elvis’ fingers and shaking furiously. “Now please,” she begs, before he scoops her up into his arms and propping her on his hip. He holds her close and you're forced to face what you have been ignoring all these years. The shape of the nose, the way her lips curl in such a specific way, there is only one place she could have gotten all of that from. It feels like just your luck that your child would be practically a carbon copy of the man you so desperately tried to get away from. Really it was only a matter of time before someone figured it out.

“Now hold ya’ horses yittle,” chucking her under the chin in a far too familiar manner, as she giggles in his arms. “Yer mama’s gotta get ready herself.”

“I… do…” you say, playing along, trying to keep a cap on your distress for your daughter's sake. “I-I gotta pack a few more things baby,” you say, giving her a kiss on her forehead, hoping she misses the tears in your eyes. “I’ll b-be right back.” you manage to stutter out.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” his voice so saccharine sweet it makes our teeth ache. “We’ll be right here.”

As you turn around you feel a hard smack on your ass, and you fully stop, burning in humiliation that he would treat you like that, especially in front of your daughter.

The humiliation only further ramps up as you walk up the stairs, and you can feel the slick already gathering between your thighs. Less out of titillation you believe and more out of a defense mechanism, knowing what will more than likely happen the second he's able to get you alone.

Or is it?

It doesn’t feel real as you step into the upstairs apartment, you see Gina at the stove and Sue filling out a crossword puzzle, her glasses threatening to fall off her nose, none of which suggests they have any idea of what’s going on downstairs. You’re almost angry about that, like it would’ve been easier to walk away from them if they had also been in on it as well.

“Where’s Rosie so eager to rush off to?” Sue asks idly, not looking up from the paper.

“Oh ummm…” you say, trying to think on your feet for a decent enough lie. “ Sh-she’s going to a sleepover with-with Jenny.”

You’re usually a better liar than this, but him being so close again has you all out of sorts tonight. Not to mention your mind is running rampant with all the worst case scenarios possible at the moment with the most egregious being that he’s gonna take her and run, forcing you to chase him down the same way he’s undoubtedly done for you these past few years. You’re practically feeling every second tick by, fearing the longer you take the greater the chances will be that they’re both gone.

Is that how he felt when he was away from you? A small voice in your head asks. It’s an awful roiling feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if the person you loved most wasn’t where you left them. Would he be so cruel to do that to you?

“Did that fella Jenny setchu up with ever show up?” Gina asks, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Ye-yeah and… and I’m gonna get dinner with him,” you swallow, the lie tasting like bile in your mouth. As you turn to your room, already mentally mapping where the important documents were in your bedroom, preparing to pack a few outfits for Rosie, and whatever other odds and ends you would need.

Your answer catches Gina off guard, and Sue immediately looks up from the paper sharing a look with your other Aunt. “Ain’t that a little fast, Hon?”

“Maybe…” you say, hesitating as you try to hold back your tears.

“Ya don’t gotta go if you ain’t ready for it,” Sue says behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder, that you flinch away from. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong If it’s still a little too early for you.”

That’s the worst part about it. You know they would fight tooth and nail for both you and Rosie if you just asked. But you know the type of mess Elvis can and will bring into this house should you decide to fight him on this. After all they’ve done for you, keeping them out of the type of spectacle he brings is the least you can do.

“I have to go,” you say sternly.

One look at your squared back shoulders and your far away look they know there’s no stopping this. You hold back your tears as you accept their hug and accept their well wishes. You say your goodbyes promising to be back soon, unsure if you will ever see them again, and you put on your biggest fakest smile as you let go of them, wanting to at least leave them with one happy memory.

Relief floods your entire being seeing her at the bottom of the steps, only for the dread to return seeing him there with her. Especially when you hear the story he’s telling her. You don’t miss the glance he steals your way before focusing on your daughter once again. “I thought to myself, ‘thas the girl whose gonna be mine.’”

“Like-like love at first sight,” Rosie asks, and you can practically hear the stars in her eyes.

“Exactly yittle,” he drawls out. “Took her awhile to figure it out though but she learned eventually. Now we’re all gonna go home.” His eyes slide right off her and cut directly to you. Her eyes follow him and she quickly scurries off of him to reach you.

“You ready Mama?” she asks you as she takes you by the hand leading you to the door where you see a car parked right out front. It may as well have been a hearse in your mind.

You pick her up and you look down the darkened streets and you briefly flirt with the idea of just sprinting and never looking back. But the hand on your elbow guiding you to the car puts a halt to those thoughts.

You still don’t know how much of your story he does actually believe, so you sit yourself down in the car without so much as a fuss and resolve yourself to your fate. Though that doesn’t stop you from seating yourself in the middle and placing Rosie by the window, as you still aren’t totally out of the mindset of keeping her as far away from him as possible. Neither of them seem to mind as she eagerly presses tiny hands up to the glass in awe of the nightlife of New Orleans, while he slithers an arm over your shoulder bringing you closer to him.

As you contemplate what your life will look like from now on, you pass by so many places you’ve become familiar with these last four years, but what nearly breaks you are the unfamiliar places. Record stores, movie theaters, restaurants, and so many other places you avoided all due to an irrational belief that he would somehow be there. You did your best to limit your time in the outside world to only when you absolutely had to be out.

Maybe that’s why you were so willing to trust Jenny and her altruistic generosity to watch over your daughter and take her places you were too anxious to venture to.

You caged yourself into your new seemingly better life, but you didn't live at all. You were hiding. Always so afraid that he would somehow find you, you neglected to live. You put yourself in a different cage and convinced yourself you were free.

“Mama? Mama, why are you crying?” your sweet little girl asks.

But you’re gonna do what you’ve always done for your daughter. What you’ve always done when it comes to Elvis. You’re going to play pretend.

“Mama’s just so happy we’re going baby,” you say with a solemn kiss to her forehead as his grip further tightens on your shoulder.

“I know what’ll cheer you up!” she declares and completely unaware of the salt she’s about to pour on your wounds, she pulls something out of her little rucksack. “Danny, do you know the story of ‘Punzel?”

“Can’t say that I do darlin’” he says, eyeing you over her head. She sets the Grimm fairy tale book down on her lap and opens it to the worn pages she’s seemed to memorize by heart. She proceeds to read to the both of you, in the sense that she recites the story she’s heard maybe half-a-million times before word-for-word, going off pictures more than the actual words on the page to know where she’s at in the story. You try your best to focus on the book for your daughter's sake, but it’s nearly impossible to do when you feel Elvis' familiar bruising grip on your inner thigh.

You shoot him a look and grab a hold of his wandering hand, trying to signal for him to stop and pay attention to Rosie. He gives a mirthful smile to you as he feels the slick there and seemingly tightens his grip in retribution, as though he wants to get a head start on re-establishing his claim over you. You in response bite your cheek and bear it, until at one point it nearly becomes too much and one lone tear rolls down your cheek and onto the page of the prince wandering blindly through the forest.

Your daughter is far too sweet for her own good, as she notices this and gives you a gentle pat on your cheek, trying to comfort you the same you’ve done for her before.

“Don’t worry Mama,” she reassures you, mirroring what you’ve done for her when a story gets her a little too worked up. “They always live happy ever after.”

You give a shuddering sigh as Elvis finally let’s go of your thigh. You clutch onto that little porcelain figure in your pocket and hope she’s right.

You make it to Memphis in record time, Rosie having long since tired herself out, is wrapped securely in your arms, but you’ll find no suh peace with his arm coiled around your shoulder as he sadistically whispers how Rosie’ll have a blast meeting the rest of his family while the two of you get “reacquainted,” of course he used more colorful language but you don’t want to have to think about that for right now.

When the familiar gates come into view

“Ahh, my baby missed home that bad,” he whispers, giving a deceptively sweet kiss to your tear-stricken cheek. “Why don’tcha hand the ‘lil one over to me and you just head up to bed and get ready for me?”

Despite the questioning lilt in his tone you know for a fact he’s not asking. And so going against all of your instincts screaming in your head, you let go of your daughter and watch as he takes a hold of her. To your relief she’s at the very least on the same floor as you, but you can only hope that she, at the very least, will sleep through the rest of the night, because you doubt he’ll let you out even a minute sooner than he has to.

The bedroom has changed in many ways since you’ve been gone, though the most striking thing was how your side of the bed looks as though it were converted into a little shrine for you. Small baubles and trinkets you left behind on the stand, you even find an old nightgown of yours on your side of the bed, the last thing he ever saw you in. It doesn’t fit you like it used to, having and breastfeeding a baby will do that to you, but you put it on all the same knowing he will want to see you in it.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, seeing your breasts straining against the silk material and the bruises peeking out beneath the scandalously short hemline, it really does settle in that this was all inevitable. This is the very same image you saw the night before he left for Germany.

The same image that confirmed your decision to leave in the first place.

This moment, feels like the dread you always felt when getting to the last few pages of a book. As things were wrapping up and you would have to face the harsh reality of your situation...

You’re back in the fucking hotel room.

You won’t even have the luxury of daydreaming of your escape, because there is no world where you leave without Rosie, and he knows that. He knows she’s the reason you ran, and knows that without her you’re never gonna run again. That’s why he went to the lengths he did to endear himself to her first before you ever had an inkling as to what was going on.

Your thoughts turn to Jenny, and how you entrusted what you loved the most to her, only to have her spit in your face by turning around practically handing her over to him on a platter. Either she knew that he was her father and didn’t bother to question why you were so desperate to get away that you faked a whole other life, or she didn’t and handed over your daughter to a stranger. You don’t know which is worse.

You also can’t forget how she was perhaps the most vehement about you dating again, which you can’t even begin to understand if she was working for him the whole time. But you can’t put it above him that he wouldn’t have Jenny push the issue if only to further twist the knife if you ever did take up her offer. As though to remind you that you never had a chance of moving on.

Because it always goes back to him.

You want to hide from it all and you give into the urge, and crawl under the silky sheets of the bed, for all the good it will do to protect you.

Monsters don’t hide under your bed. They crawl into it. Those are your last conscious thoughts as you feel the bed shift

“Welcome home Satnin,” he whispers before you feel the sheets being ripped away from you.

Taglist

@venus-haze @djsjs13949 @ilovehobi101 @butlerslut @richardslady121 @giabelia @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051 @myradiaz @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale

@j-v-9-2 @eliseinmemphis @dkayfixates @immi547 @thatbanditqueen @marriedtoeddie @cuteejeno @itlover8000 @isthlsfate @mgparker @thatbanditqueen @softsatnin @literally-just-elvis-fics @adaydreamaway08 @airyx0x0 @domoron @artlover8992

#elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #yandere!elvis x reader #austin!elvis #austin butler #yandere #yandere!elvis #yandere!austin!elvis #yandere x reader #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis movie #elvis presely smut #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis fic #austin butler x reader

806 notes · View notes

buckyysdoll · 10 months

Text

— 𝟓𝟎𝐬! 𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬; 𝐡𝐜𝐬 —

જ⁀➴ — • summary: just little romantic hcs <3; • a/n: i wanna write for my lovee, so i’m starting with this <33 • cw: none? elvis being sweet as sugar, is all ❤︎︎

MAIN MASTERLIST

• buries his face in the crook of your neck, seeking comfort in the scent of your skin

• toys with your hair and winds it round each of his fingers, just adores its sweet softness

• plays with your rings and fingers, and brings your hand to his mouth for a kiss

• sits with a hand on the inside of your thigh and rubs slow circles there with his thumb

• has a hand on the small of your back, or curved round your waist when you’re standing and talking; even more so in public, when surrounded by crowds — as you get used to being as he rises in fame

• hugs you from behind and kisses your neck until you just can’t think straight

• does that, and whispers sweet things in your ear that have you blushing as he just smirks against you, and now you’re decidedly not concentrating on your other conversation — can only feel him

• opens his arms/pats his lap for you to come and sit on it, and then holds you by the waist

• just needs your closeness, is so touchy and affectionate with you — just you, always you. cos after all you’re his girl, and he wants everyone else to know it — and how can’t they, when you’re just like one person? when you’re practically attached at the hip?

• you sit on the counter of his dressing room, and elvis frames his hands on either side of your thighs. he leans like that until he’s almost standing flush against your front, and you wrap your legs round his waist. you kiss and kiss and kiss

• even though he’s meant to be on stage in — goddamn, less than a minute? you bet your ass he can’t think past the feel of your lips on his own

• stands and rubs his hands down your arms to your elbows in soft, soothing strokes — it comforts you both, those sweet little touches, and it’s just like a grounding assurance

• presses soft kisses all over your face, just adoring how you react — letting out little laughs and trying to swat at him, though the last thing you’d ever want is for him to stop

• tucks your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your temple or forehead

• without him needing to ask, you straighten the collar or tie of his suit. he can’t take his eyes off you when you do this, something so goddamn simple yet intimate, too.

• you always sitting in the PRESLEY chair on his movie sets while he’s out doing takes; watching him work from your spot, having cute candid photos taken of your subtle claim as his girl <3

• and why not? it’s your last name, too. or at least it will be, if it isn’t quite yet <3

• wearing his suit jacket over your shirt while he wears the rest of the set, and being photographed backstage with you standing with your arms held around his waist from behind. he turns his head — with that smile — to look at you while he’s still talking with someone, and the photo that’s taken shows his attention isn’t on them anymore, it’s just wholly on you <3

294 notes · View notes

foreverdolly · 2 years

Text

my bestest girl | austin!elvis x reader

summary: you're elvis’s childhood best friend, and he’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. his mother and father keep trying to push him to finally make a move, what with you being the only girl that they would ever approve of their son going steady with. elvis, bashful and fearful of rejection, decides to keep his feelings to himself. . . well- that is until he can’t physically take it anymore

pairings: austin!elvis x fem!reader

word count: 9,173 ( I couldn't stop typing ).

warnings/notes: SMUT !, cursing, the reader and elvis are both huge virgins, grinding, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, implied breeding kink, elvis loves you so much that it physically pains him. the internal image of an inexperienced, nervous elvis has me foaming at the mouth. everyone always writes austin!elvis as a sex god, but quivering boys with shaky, wandering hands who cry during sex is my own personal kryptonite. a continuation of this fic is currently in the works, so please follow me or ask to be added to my taglist for my virgin!elvis content if ya liked this.

masterlist | requests are currently closed !

“Mama, here you go again! Stop tryin’ to stick your nose into other people’s business.” He called from his bedroom, his heart pounding against his chest. Elvis stared at himself in the small mirror he had in his cramped space, taking a few steps back so that he could make sure that his short sleeve button up didn’t have any wrinkles. He had insisted that he do the ironing himself, not wanting his mother to be too overwhelmed with things to do. He wasn’t very good when it came to housework, no matter how hard he tried.

“I’m not doin’ anythin’ a mother shouldn’t do, baby! I ran into her daddy at the grocery store, and we just got to talkin’ is all.” Is that what she wanted to call it? Vernon had pulled Elvis aside just thirty minutes ago and had told him that Gladys had practically begged your father to get you to come over for dinner tonight. She’d been meddling in his relationship with you for years, but tonight was different. He could tell that she had something up her sleeve, ready to pull out once she got two of you cornered at the dinner table.

She had always been wildly overprotective of her son, and Elvis had never fought the hold that she had over his life. He didn’t blame her one bit for it, rather he enjoyed feeling loved and cared for. He never spent a single night away from home until he was seventeen, for crying out loud. If Elvis lost a son the same way that she had, he was positive that he’d want nothing more than to keep him safe and healthy. That was exactly what Gladys was doing. She looked after him and made sure he never got himself into any sort of trouble. His old pals from high school used to say that she felt “threatened” by the girls that used to try their hand at flirting with him, but the blue eyed boy knew that it just wasn’t the case. No, she wanted him to be with the right girl.

In Glady’s and Vernon’s eyes, you were the only girl for Elvis. He felt that way about you too.

When he reached puberty and moved to Memphis, girls started paying more and more attention to him. The one girl that he wanted to look in his direction never did though. His sultry voice, long eyelashes, and crooked smile never worked on you. Good lord, had he tried it time and time again, but you never acted interested. Despite the dull ache of rejection that Elvis always felt in your presence, he never could shake you. Not that he wanted to. You were just as much family to him as his own parents were, what with the fact that you two had always been connected at the hip. He couldn’t go a single day without phoning you up, the two of you chatting excitedly about your latest Beale Street shenanigans.

His love and attraction for you never dimmed, and his eyes never strayed. Elvis was positive that you were the girl that he was supposed to marry. . . but he knew that you didn’t feel the same way. He smoothed a few stray pieces of ebony hair back into place, chewing nervously at the inside of his cheek. “Sure, sure. You only did what you thought was right.” He moved to stand in the doorway of his room, pressing his hip against the wooden frame. “But mama?” She was anxiously setting the table, and stopped what she was doing so that she could meet his gaze.

“You can’t force her to feel somethin’ that she doesn’t, alright? I’m perfectly fine with just bein’ her friend.” That was a lie. The words burned his tongue the second that he said them, but he refused to take back the statement. He wasn’t going to say anything to you that might potentially push you away. He’d rather not have you romantically than not have you at all. Elvis was sure that he might just keel over if you never spoke to him again. The remorseful look on his mother’s face didn’t escape him, but he made the decision to ignore it. He didn't want anybody's pity. Not right now, at least. You’d be here any second, and the last thing he needed was to start moping around. You would be sure to notice.

He wiped his sweaty palms on his slacks, clearing his throat as he straightened out his shoulders. “Now what can I do to help, satnin?” He cooed to his mother, watching the way the nervousness dissipated from her expression.

He was helping to lay out the silverware, but paused as there was a knock on the door. “That must be our girl. Elvis, how ‘bout you get that?” Vernon spoke from the kitchen, probably busy sneaking a few spoonfuls of his mother’s famous ambrosia salad, which she would be sure to notice. His father would be getting an earful about it later.

The man was at the door in the blink of an eye, his long legs quickly stalking across the small home. He ripped the door open with a wide smile, eager to see you after the few days that you two had been apart. You were like a drug to him- at this point he couldn’t go too long without you, not without suffering withdrawals. You blinked in shock, a few strands of your bangs fluttering with how violently he had ripped the damn thing open.

Standing in front of you was a very eager looking Elvis, his plush pink lips upturned into his signature smile. Judging by the way you were quick to step into the house and wrap your arms around him, he could tell that you were excited to see him as well. “That was the longest trip of my life.” You sighed against his chest, giving him one last squeeze before letting him go. He found it hard to speak for a few seconds, so he decided to nod his agreement. You and your family had taken a last minute vacation to Cherokee Lake Beach, deciding that the summer break would be a better time than ever to celebrate your father’s recent promotion. Last night had been your first day back, but you had claimed to be too tired for a visit, so Elvis made do with the half hour phone call you made to him.

Gladys had been lucky enough to bump into your dad after the week long vacation, which was how he had ended up in this mess. Elvis was too mortified to ask about all of the details, knowing that his loud mouthed mother probably gushed to the middle aged man about her son’s private thoughts and feelings. You were dolled up, which wasn’t completely unusual. You always went out of your way to look pretty- but you had even dusted your wide doe-like eyes with a shimmery shadow. Your cheeks were naturally flushed, your skin glowing after the days of soaking up the sun. He was taken aback by your beauty. So much so that he just stood there, his blue eyes half lidded as he took you in. For a moment neither of you spoke. You merely stared at one another, basking in each other’s presence. That was until Vernon spoke, that is.

“Gladys cooked you a welcome home feast, darlin’. I hope you’re hungry.” Elvis could have cursed at his father, your beautiful eyes leaving his face and instead turning in the direction of the kitchen.

Your lips moved up into a lazy smile, and soon you were moving closer to Vernon, wrapping your arms around him quickly as the two of you exchanged your hellos. He gave the top of your head a quick kiss before letting you go. Gladys was next, moving from the kitchen so that she could wrap you up in one of her usual bear hugs. She peppered your cheek with kisses, rubbing your arm up and down when she pulled away so that she could get a good look at you. “Why, look at you!” She purred, giving you a once over. “You look beautiful, y/n.”

And you did. Then again, Elvis couldn’t even remember a time when he hadn’t thought you looked gorgeous. Whether you were stumbling out of your room after a long night's rest, sleep caked in your eyes and your hair sticking up on end, or as sick as a dog- Elvis always found you gorgeous. He was smitten to the point of being lovesick for crying out loud.

“Did you make the ambrosia salad?” He heard you ask from the kitchen, your small frame disappearing into the tiny space. You and his mother always got along like two peas in a pod, but he couldn’t help but glare after his mother who had stolen you away from him so soon into the visit.

Vernon took it as his opportunity to move towards the dining room table, taking his seat. Elvis hesitantly followed suit, nervously looking down at his shirt one last time, attempting to brush out a wrinkle with his hands, his silver watch jingling softly with the movement. “Son,” His father kept his voice low, leaning forward on his elbows. “Your mother and I are goin’ to watch a movie together once we’re through with eatin’.” Elvis’s eyes furrowed in confusion, but he nodded his head anyway. “What movie are we seein’?” It wasn’t like his father to go to the movies. His parents never spent money on frivolous things like the cinema. Vernon was quick to shake his head, reaching into his pocket to show him just two tickets. “I just thought that you and y/n might like some time to yourselves tonight.” Elvis had to pinch his nose to keep from exploding, his cheeks hot with both anger and embarrassment. Now how the hell was he supposed to explain all of this to you? “Daddy- you’re just as bad as mama is!” He whisper-yelled. Before he had time to scold his father any further, his two girls emerged from the kitchen, arms full of serving dishes.

Warm biscuits, mashed potatoes with gravy made from drippings, green beans and hamburger steaks. His mother really had gone out for your long overdue return to the presley household. You sat next to Elvis wordlessly, and when he turned to face you he could tell that your cheeks were a little pinker than they had been before. He blinked a few times, but settled further into his seat, grabbing the linen napkin off of the table so that he could put it on his lap. The four of you all joined hands, your mother insistent that you all say grace before she began putting heaping servings on to everyone’s plate.

“So? How was the lake, y/n? I’m sure you and your family had quite the time down there.” Vernon was quick to engage you in conversation.

Your arm brushed against Elvis’s side every time you moved your fork around on the plate, and each time his stomach did a flip. He found it hard to even focus on eating, so he just moved his food around from one spot to the other, hoping that his mother wouldn’t notice his lack of appetite. If she did, she didn’t comment on it. Instead she was too focused on her role as “matchmaker”.

“It was wonderful! I got to teach my baby cousin how to swim while we were down there.” Imagining you carefully taking care of your aunt Valerie’s son made his heart seize up. Elvis had always wanted children, and lots of them. He saw how it had completed his own mother and father’s lives, and he wanted that for himself. His career had steadily been taking off, and though he hadn’t really gotten his big break yet, his single ‘That’s Alright’ was doing pretty well. They had just played it on the KWAM radio station the other night, and he had quite literally jumped for joy. Once he was settled enough in his career, he wanted to start a family and get married. Hopefully by some time next year, he might be far enough ahead in his life where that could be something to seriously think about. That is. . . if you ever returned the sentiment. His mother seemed to be thinking the same thing, because her eyes softened.

“You’d make a mighty fine mama someday. I know you wanted to go to college once your younger sister graduates high school, but I’d hope you’d be thinkin’ ‘bout marriage too right around that time.” Elvis widened his eyes at his mother, his mouth parting in shock at her boldness.

Your cheeks heated up all over again, but you slowly nodded your head. “I’d like to be able to support my parents someday, which was why I wanted to go and get my education. I do want a family someday though. . . It just depends.” Your southern drawl was as sweet as sugar. Your voice has always been one of the many sources of Elvis’s weak spots for you. He glanced over, catching the way you were looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He swallowed thickly, filling his fork with mashed potatoes so that he could keep himself busy.

Gladys hummed her approval, but continued to hone in on the subject. Elvis knew that this was going to be a shit show. . . but it was almost like the woman was going out of her way to embarrass him. “Elvis has always wanted a family, ever since he was a little boy. Isn’t that right, baby?” He nearly choked on his food, covering his mouth with his hand as he cleared his throat. You seemed to notice the panic on his face, because you were quick to hand him his glass of sweet tea. He gulped it back appreciatively.

“The both of you are quite the lookers. If you two ever had any youngins, they’d be models.” It was your turn to choke on your food, narrowly avoiding getting a green bean stuck in your windpipe. Elvis reached out, giving your back a few pats before glaring at his mother.

“Mama! That’s enough, ya hear? Give it a rest.” He spoke through clenched teeth, shaking his head in disbelief. To say that he was mortified would be an understatement. He knew that the two of you were in for a treat the second that his mother had practically skipped home last night to tell him the news, but god damn it this was horrifying. He was too scared to even look in your direction, fully convinced that the second his parents left the house you would be sure to reject him. It would be brutal, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to survive it.

“I was just tryin’ to help-” Gladys started to mumble, but Elvis stood up from the table, the chair loudly scraping against the wooden floors. He tossed his napkin down onto his plate, staring the woman down.

“Daddy, don’t you think the two of you should start headin’ to the theater? Wouldn’t want ya to be late.” His low voice was thick with humiliation, his lush lashes casting shadows on his cheeks as he turned his attention to his father. The man quickly nodded, standing up so that he could grab Gladys by the arm. “You’re right, son. Come on, dollface. Let’s get goin’.”

Elvis could tell that his mother was starting to realize the embarrassment she had caused. She was damn near tears as she gave her son a soft pat on the back, and for once in his life he didn’t pay any mind to it. Elvis was a mama’s boy, and proud of it. He had taken care of his parents all of his life, both financially and emotionally. The only thing he asked for was privacy every now and again, because he had always been careful around you for a reason. Losing you would kill him. He’d be absolutely gutted. He shoved his hand into his pocket as the front door closed behind his parents, his sharp jawline ticking as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. He was staring absentmindedly at the table, his mind flying at a mile a minute as he tried to come up with something to say to you. Anything to fix whatever the hell his mother just did.

Gladys Love Presley might as well have shouted from the rooftop that her son was in love with you. She had just hammered that final nail into his coffin. There was no getting out of this one. Over the many years that the two of you had known each other, he had slipped up on numerous occasions. Just two years ago he had tried to kiss you at a party, and when you had leaned away he had feigned drunkenness when in actuality the man had barely had a drop to drink the entire night. This was worse somehow. He could feel the tension in the air so thick that he could barely breathe.

“Well, now ya know.” He threw his hands up, his heart pounding with nervousness or anger- he just didn’t know anymore. He couldn’t differentiate between the tsunami of emotions that were washing over him. You kept silent, but he could feel the weight of your gaze. He swallowed thickly, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was hopin’ she wouldn’t be so obvious for once in her god damned life.” He moved away from the table, pacing back and forth in the living room.

“Elvis, I’m not up-” “Just let me talk, okay? I at least want you to hear it from my mouth and not hers. She’s spoken for me my entire life,” He motioned towards the door, tapping his foot angrily. “So I don’t know why I’m shocked.”

You bit your own lips to keep them from quivering, and he watched you distractedly for a few more seconds before finally taking a deep breath, running his large hands over his face. “I’ve never been able to get you off of my mind. You ran into me in the hallway on our first day of school, do ya remember that?” Despite his darkcast mood, he couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “You were wearin’ that pink gingham dress? The one your mama forced you to wear. . . and I thought that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. You smelled like gardenias, and were always eating peaches with your packed lunches. You were mean to every boy that ever approached you- but not me.” He shook his head, his voice thick as he remembered the first time he ever saw you. “You were a baby faced daydream of a girl, and I’ve never been able to get enough of you. I never will.”

Elvis didn’t want to look at you for too long. He could tell by your expression that you were close to tears. He was neck deep into the confession now, and he didn’t want to leave anything out. He had been bursting at the seams for years. Bursting with love, and it felt good to get it all off of his chest. Damn good.

“I don’t have eyes for anyone else. You asked me why I turned Dixie down last year when she asked me out, and it’s because you’ve blinded me. You’re so bright, I can’t see anyone else. I know you don’t feel the same way that I do. You’ve made it very clear over the years. . . but I just want you to know that I’m madly in love with you. My heart just aches. It’s disgustin’ how much I love you, really.” He laughed humorlessly, kicking his shoe against his mother’s rug.

He could hear your soft hiccups from across the room, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to run to you and hold you, even for just a second, or if he wanted to find some means of escape. Either way, he had done it. There really wasn’t much else for him to say or do, other than just wait to hear what you had to say. He just hoped you’d be nice about it all. You were always kind to him, but maybe he had crossed a line. Maybe he had incurred your wrath somehow.

He opened his arms out wide at his sides, chewing on the inside of his cheek before finally locking his eyes on you. “Go ahead. Get it over with, y/n.” He didn’t want to beat around the bush with the rejection. You needed to rip it off quickly like a band-aid.

╚══•●•══╝

Your father had tried to emotionally prepare you for the night. He had accepted the invitation on your behalf, knowing everything that Gladys had in mind for the dinner. It was no secret to any of your family or close friends that you were in love with Elvis Presley. He was just as much a part of your everyday life as breathing was. The two of you had done everything together. From attending senior prom to getting drunk for the first time, most young adult milestones had been reached together, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Despite your unchanging feelings, you were no stranger to the way that other girls looked at Elvis. You’d have to be blind not to see how beautiful he was. From his sultry blue eyes framed by thick black lashes to his plush lips and perfectly-imperfect smile; Elvis was irresistible. Nobody would ever compare to his looks. And his voice? It was smooth and velvety like honey. You had stopped being nervous around him years ago, and instead suffered your crush internally. Whenever friends or family asked, you always brushed the topic off. Either telling them that you weren’t ready to tell him, or that you were certain that he didn’t feel the same. Either way, it wasn’t time. When was it ever going to be though? The older the two of you got, the more of your old friends from school started getting engaged or married.

One day Elvis was bound to find someone worth proposing to. One day you’d have to be forthright with him and your feelings.

Elvis had always turned girls down, and you had gotten too comfortable with that fact. One day the right girl was bound to ask him out, and for once he wouldn’t say no. You’d be left in the dust. So when your father came bounding into the house, his eyes alight with excitement, you couldn’t see what there was to be so happy about.

“Elvis has something he wants to tell you tomorrow night. Gladys wanted me to make sure you’re at their house for supper.” Your stomach had dropped. What was so exciting? The big news could be a handful of things: he finally found a worthwhile person to manage him, he got a well paying gig, his career was beginning to take off. All you could think about was the fact that he could be telling you that he finally got himself a girl. All night you had practiced your smile in front of the mirror. As you sat there at your vanity, your pink lips pulled back in a wide grin, you couldn’t wipe the sadness from your eyes. Tomorrow was going to be the worst day of your life, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was like knowing you were about to get in a car accident, but you were unable to pull over to the side of the road. You just had to keep driving, hands glued to the steering wheel and foot nailed to the gas pedal.

You had taken extra care in your appearance that night, even going as far as to apply a soft pink eyeshadow to your lids. If you were going to get your heart broken you at least wanted to look pretty.

Elvis always looked at you with kind eyes, but the way that he had opened the door that night had left you stunned into silence. Your chest burned like it was on fire. The longer you looked at him, the more in love you fell. Right when you thought that you couldn’t love the boy any more- it was impossible- he would look at you like that. You had quickly searched the living room for any sign of another girl, but found none. The only purse to be seen was Gladys’, and the middle aged woman’s voice was the only one to be heard.

It wasn’t until Gladys had you cornered in the kitchen that you finally clued in that she had schemed something up for the two of you. Right as you were grabbing all the food that you could fit in your arms, the woman leaned in close, her eyes twinkling. “You’d make the perfect daughter in-law.” If Elvis and Vernon had noticed the way your face had flushed a bright red, neither of them commented on it.

Gladys only continued throughout the night, driving the point home. If the news wasn’t about him having a girlfriend, then what could it possibly be? He hadn’t said anything about his singing yet. The more aggravated and embarrassed Elvis became throughout the dinner, the more confused you became.

It wasn’t until Elvis mentioned his parent’s surprise movie date that it all finally clicked.

You’d never seen the man get so upset with his mother before. Sure, she could get a bit overbearing and annoying at times, but he had more patience than anyone else you’d ever met before. He treated his parents like they were his own children, and never minded their meddling before now. His cheeks were red with anger, a few pieces of black hair falling out of place as he began to pace in the living room. They hung in his eyes, bouncing a bit with his constant movement. “Elvis, I’m not up-” You wanted to let him know that you weren’t upset with him or his mother, but he cut you off before you could get the words out.

You didn’t know that you were holding your breath until you felt as though you were going to faint. You sucked in a deep breath, watching him with wide, teary eyes once he finally turned to face you. He had always been a poet, in his own right. He wrote beautiful songs, but you never had prepared yourself for such sugar-coated words to be spoken to you so directly like this. You weren’t sure what to say. How in the world were you ever supposed to say anything half as romantic and as beautiful as that, especially in the heat of the moment like this? You sniffled softly, wiping at your tear stained cheeks before you stood up on shaky legs. His chest was rising and falling in quick succession, so despite his calm expression, you could tell that he was panicking. He had never been so vulnerable like this in front of you.

You began making your way up to him, your bottom lip quivering as you took in his expression. He noticed your tears, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Just say what you need to say.” He assured you, his arms dropping back down to his sides. It was crazy, but he really thought that you were about to turn down his affections. There wasn’t even a shred of hope in his bright blue eyes.

“You’re either blind,” Your voice shook as you spoke, but you kept going. “Or an idiot, EP.” His eyebrows slowly began to furrow in confusion. He licked his dry lips before opening his mouth. “You don’t have to insult me too, ya know. Jesus.” His eyes began filling with tears, and that was all it took.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing his face contorted with pain, his eyes so very blue and so very sad- it pushed you over the edge. You grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him down to your height. Your movement was so rough and jerky that one of the buttons even flew off, but you paid it no mind. There was no time for apologies.

His lips felt full and plush against your own, albeit a little chapped from the way he had been nervously chewing them during dinner. You had been kissed, but only once before. It had been a horrible slobbery mess, and even though Elvis had laughed at your expense all those years ago, you could tell that he was upset. Now you recognized it as jealousy.

You poured everything you could into that kiss, your hands moving up to cup his cheeks and hold him in place as you slowly moved your lips against his, the tip of your tongue gently lapping against his bottom lip. You were easing him into it, and judging by his hands that shakily wrapped around your waist, he was terrified shitless. Scared or not, he was excited out of his mind to finally kiss you. Taste you. His unsure hands tightened their hold, his large hand sliding up from your hip to your back, pressing you flush against him. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, and the second that it registered to Elvis, he gasped against your lips.

“I don’t know what I’m doin'.” He mumbled shyly against your mouth, his hot breath fanning over your face. You allowed your eyes to flutter open, your thumbs brushing against his warm cheeks. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did right then. His eyes were half lidded and laden with a lust that he still didn’t quite understand. His cheeks were flushed, and as you pulled back a little more so that you could get a better look at him, his lips looked pink and kissed. You breath locked up in your chest as you noticed his eyes still looked watery. You moved your hand upwards, gathering up one of the unshed tears that had become tangled in his thick lower lashes. “I don’t either.” You admitted with a smile. He chuckled, his hand moving further up your back so that he could gently cup the back of your neck. “Let’s learn together.” You weren’t sure when you had gotten so bold, but it was worth it to see his reaction.

He hurriedly pressed his lips against yours, the both of you slowly moving backwards. Neither of you were sure where you were trying to go, but you just knew that you needed to get closer somehow. One of your hands moved from his face as you felt something pressing against your lower back, moving to try and blindly figure out just what it was. Elvis didn’t need to open his eyes to know that the two of you had ended up back in the dining room. He wordlessly bent down, placing his hands at the back of your thighs so that he could sit you down on the table. It was his turn to run his tongue along your bottom lip, and you wasted no time granting him access. The two of you explored each other’s mouths tentatively at first, but the more time went on, the more hungry the both of you became. He couldn’t get enough of you. His hands shook with the weight of his neediness, his hands moving from your neck, to your hair, grabbing a fistful as he held you more firmly against him. The two of you had fallen into a pattern, and in a matter of seconds the kiss no longer felt inexperienced. The both of you moved your lips against one another as if you could somehow devour the other. You parted for a second so that you could take a few deep breaths, and Elvis took that time to press his lips against your chin, your cheek, and down your neck.

You spread your legs so that he could step between them, your hands shaking as they gripped at the fabric of his cotton shirt. It felt like every single nerve ending was on fire. Anywhere he touched felt like someone was holding a flame to it. His lips pressed against the hollow of your throat, his needy hands moving over your thighs, up your stomach, and stopping just below the swell of your breasts. His thumbs gently dug into the soft skin there, but it wasn’t enough for you. “For the love of god, touch me.” Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears. Elvis let out a loud groan against your skin, his hands moving up to cup you through the bodice of your dress.

Your breasts felt heavy with want, even in his hands. He added pressure, his ring and middle finger pressing against your hardening nipples. You let out a loud yelp, your hips bucking on their own accord. Elvis’s hips jerked forward as he felt your core brush against his own, ripping his face out of your neck so that he could stare down at you with wide eyes. His pupils were completely blown out, his eyes more black than blue at this point. The noise you had let out as his hips moved against yours had been sinful. Never in your life had anything even remotely similar left your lips. He wanted to see what he was doing to you, so he moved his hips again but slower this time. Your jaw dropped, your lips parting as you felt him pressing against you. The movement directly stimulated your clit, and you couldn’t help but jerk against him slightly. It felt too good.

It was almost too much, but still not enough, all at the same time. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared up at him, concentrating hard on not making a sound. You weren’t sure why but it was embarrassing. Elvis’s lips also parted as he repeated the action, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he licked his lips, his arm wrapping around you so that he could get a better angle. He pressed against you harder, moving his head down to press a kiss against your top lip. “Make that sound again for me, baby. Please.” He sounded so good when he was begging for your validation. He wanted to know that he was making you feel good. He wanted to know that he was doing right by you, and god was he. Your eyes nearly rolled back at the mere sound of his voice, so deep it was practically a hum.

His hand lowered from your back to your bottom, and he gripped hard, physically moving you against him in time with his hips. You moaned so loudly you could feel the sound reverberating in your chest. “Oh fuck.” You distantly heard him curse, but you were too focused on what he was doing to you to really understand what was going on around you. Your hands flew to his shirt, your fingers fumbling as they tried to undo the buttons. It must have been taking too long, because Elvis’s hands moved to cover yours. “J-Just rip-” He gently brushed your hands away gripping the front of his shirt with shaky hands. He moved his mouth down to yours, pressing a wet kiss to your lips. “Rip it.” He was breathless as he tugged at the shirt, the buttons popping off with small snapping sounds. He must have decided that unbuttoning the shirt would have taken too long, because the second that he felt air against his chest he moved your hands towards him, wordlessly begging you to feel him. You swallowed back his hot pants as he breathed against your lips, your hands moving against his soft skin. Your small hands brushed against the expanse of his chest, starting just above his belly button and moving upwards. The tips of your nails gently scraped against his nipples, and he jerked forward, letting out a small hiss. “I’m sorry.” You were quick to apologize, but he shook his head, pressing his forehead against yours as he searched your eyes. “I-I liked it.”

Your eyelashes fluttered as you moved your hands up and over his shoulders. Despite his skinny frame, he was toned. You pulled away from his face, smiling softly as he tried to follow you, not wanting to be parted from you for even a second. You let your eyes brush over his chest, moving the shirt down his shoulders so that you could get your fill. For a second, even through the haze of lust, Elvis’s eyes flashed with uncertainty as he watched you take him all in. Sure, it was just his chest, but for a second he was scared that he might be too scrawny for your tastes. The second that your eyes finally met his, all doubts flew right out the window. He wet his lips as he took in your expression, his heart hammering in his chest. Never in his life had he ever seen a more beautiful girl. This look- this expression- was all for him. If he had anything to say about it, no one else would ever see you in this position.

You were just his. All his. You knew it, and now he knew it too. “I love you.” His voice was so quiet that you barely heard it, and suddenly he had you laid out on the table, moving to push plates and silverware down or off the table- he didn’t care. You laughed against his mouth as a glass cup filled with tea shattered on the floor next to him. “Damn it.” He cursed with a smile, quickly going back to having his fill of your lips. His hands gently moved from the back of your knees to your thighs, his fingers brushing against your soft skin.

He was damn near petting you, groaning into your mouth as he pressed himself flush against your core. You could feel him better at this angle, your eyes flying open to stare at the ceiling for a few seconds before squeezing closed. He must have been painfully hard, and part of you were scared that if it already felt this good, that you might never want to stop. You loved him so much it was physically beginning to hurt. Never in your life did you ever want to be parted from this boy. Not even for a second. You opened your eyes again as his tongue pressed against yours, watching his eyelashes flutter as he kissed you. The ceiling light in the dining room hung directly overhead, looking more like a halo than anything to your tear blurred eyes. “I love you.” Elvis pulled away then, bracing one arm against the wooden table as he stared down at you, trying to decide if he had really heard you say that to him. He blinked a few times before he melted against you, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He pressed kisses against the flushed skin there. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” His hands had snaked under your back then, lifting you up and off of the table. He backed up and out of the room, giving your small form a small squeeze. “Again.”

“I love you.” He was walking blindly through the house, holding one arm against the nearest wall so that he could feel for the doorway. He peeked his eyes up from your shoulder, making the final couple of steps into his bedroom. He closed the door with his foot, shuffling over towards the bed. “Again.” He sounded breathless now, his voice thick with emotion.

“Oh god, do I love you.” He placed a knee on the bed, gently setting you down before crawling over your form. His bottom lip quivered as he sat up on his knees, shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders. His hands moved to his belt, but he stopped himself. “I don’t want ya to feel pressured. How far were you wantin’ to go?” You knew that all you had to do was say the word and that Elvis would have stopped at any point. You were nervous, admittedly so, but you could tell that he was just as scared, if not maybe a little more so. The both of you seemed to want the same thing though. The both of you had already gone too far to back down now. You wanted him to be inside of you. Your body was humming with need at this point, the constant touches to your core working you up to the point of damn near frenzy. You were past the point of being nervous of what you were saying to him. You were usually careful with your words, but any and all shame had flown out of your body the second his lips had made contact with your neck. “I want you inside of me. Right now.”

He let out a small whimper, his hands moving as quickly as they physically could as he removed his belt, tossing it onto the floor and doing the same thing with his pants. You were already sitting up, your hands moving to the zipper of your dress. You shrugged it off of you, kicking it down to the foot of the bed once it was off of you. You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, but Elvis was on you in the blink of an eye, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you, his hips nestling in between your legs. You could tell by the way he was staring at you that he truly liked what he was seeing.

Elvis always looked at you with honest eyes, soft and kind for you always. But he was staring at you now like you were the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on, and you were. He loved you. Every inch of you. He’d loved you since your embarrassing high school years, and over time the feelings had only managed to grow. They deepened with your bond, and at this point he was sure that he couldn’t love you any more than he already did. There was just no possible way.

He pressed kiss after kiss against your lips, his hand moving up your thigh slowly, as if he were testing the waters. He was giving you a chance to back out. You didn’t say a word. His fingers finally brushed against you, gathering up a bit of your slick before gently moving upwards, continuing his exploration. The second his fingers brushed against your clit, you couldn’t hold back your obscene moan. Elvis was a fast learner, repeating the motion again and again as he pressed his finger against you in circular motions. Your body’s natural instincts took over, your hips rocking back and forth against your hands as he continued to bury his hand in between your legs. You could feel his cock against your inner thigh, completely unclothed now. Your hands moved down to feel him, but his free hand stopped you before you could. “I wanna make you feel good.” He said simply. Elvis’s blue eyes pinned you down, watching as you panted and writhed beneath him. After some time he sped up his ministrations, which elicited even more ungodly sounds from you. He ate it all up like a man starved, his jaw slack, his lips swollen from the constant kissing. You could feel yourself starting to come undone, your head pressed against the mattress. Your breathing sped up, and your heart rate with it. Elvis could tell that you were about to climax. He might have been a virgin, but that didn’t mean he was an idiot. Men often had no filter, and not all of his friends were as inexperienced as he was.

He repositioned his fingers, moving so that his thumb was pressed against your clit, moving to bury two of his fingers into your cunt. You yelped in surprise, but found that it wasn’t uncomfortable like you once thought it might be. Your hands gripped his biceps, feeling the muscle flex under your palm as he continued his movement. You felt something building up in your abdomen, your eyes beginning to fill with tears as the pleasure reached its peak.

“That’s it, baby.” Elvis mumbled, feeling you flutter around his fingers, watching your face closely as you threw back your head, your body quivering as he continued to ride you through your orgasm. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, and for a second you swore that you had gone blind, your vision going white. After a few seconds you finally sucked in a deep breath, Elvis growling low in his chest as you tried to back away from him. The pleasure was getting to be too much. “Please,” You begged breathlessly, blinking back tears. “I need you.” You were beginning to get overstimulated, but the second that Elvis removed his fingers you felt the need to cry out. You felt so empty.

You gripped at him wildly, your nails digging into his skin as he reached down, wrapping his large hand around his cock. You finally took the opportunity to look down at him, having not gotten a good look at him earlier. What you had felt and what you were now seeing were two completely different things. Sure, you’d never actually seen anyone’s dick before, but this exceeded your expectations. Even compared to his large hands, the man was huge. You swallowed thickly, leaning up slightly so that you could press your forehead against his.

His head was an angry pink, begging to be touched in some way. Precum beaded down the entire length of him, the man dripping with need. Elvis watched you, trying to decipher your expression. Once he was positive that you had gotten a good look at him, he wasted no more time. He pressed his head against your entrance, both his own precum and your slick making it easy for him to press his way in. You were so turned on- so ready- that your body practically sucked him in.

Elvis’s breathing was so loud that you could hear it, his chest rising and falling wildly. He was fighting off his base urges, wanting nothing more than to press all the way in and fuck you into the mattress. You could see the pulse in his neck, thumping away wildly as he stared down at you. Once he was sure that you were fine he pressed in further, repeating the process until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Despite the fact that your orgasm had warmed you up for what was to come, it did very little to spare you the pain. It was sharp and sudden, but dissipated just as quickly as it came. Elvis let you cling to him and didn’t say a word when your nails dug in a little too deep for comfort. His free hand cupped your cheek, shushing your soft whimpers and kissing your cheeks. You could feel him quivering against you, as if the emotions and sensations were too much for him to handle. He only began to move once he was positive that you were alright, pressing his forehead against yours as he watched you closely. His eyelashes brushed against yours when his eyes fluttered, his breath shuttering across your lips. His hips moved slowly at first, his moans quiet and under his breath. The second that you raked your nails down his back, letting out a moan of your own, he was gone. It was almost as though he just snapped.

He sat up, pressing your back into the mattress as his hands moved to your hips. The different angle caused him to press against your cervix, and for a second it was painful. You cried out, gripping the comforter tightly in your hands as he continued to fuck into you. His moans turned to grunts, and then into growls. They rumbled low in his throat, the sound doing dangerous things to you. His jaw ticked as he watched you. He loved the way that your back arched, watching your breasts as they bounced with his frenzied movements. Elvis might not have known what he was doing, but he was going off of pure animalistic instinct. Never in all of his life did he think anything could feel this good. Your walls were soft and velvety, and pressed tight tight tight against him. If he had thought that he couldn’t live without you before, now he was certain. Elvis could have eaten you alive.

His hips continued their assault as one of his hands moved back down to your core, pressing against that same spot that caused you so much pleasure before. Your walls instantly tightened around him, causing him to cry out at the sudden wave of pleasure. He was close, and he was positive that no matter what he did, he wasn’t going to last long. He wanted to do whatever he could to make you cum right along with him. His fingers moved against her wet core along with his thrusts, the two feelings combined almost too much for you to wrap your brain around. You could feel him everywhere. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and yet you couldn’t stop shivering. “Please, please, please.” You weren’t even sure what you were begging for, just that you wanted something. No- you needed something.

“I wanna cum inside.” Elvis’s voice was shaky from exertion, a thin sheen on his chest and beading on his brow. You were too blissed out to think too hard about whatever consequences that might have. All you knew was that you wanted more. Anything that he could give you of himself, you wanted it. You nodded quickly, moving your hips against his the best that you could. You could feel your own climax boring down on you like a weight, your walls already beginning to flutter around him. He leaned his torso over yours, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth. His lips muffled your cries of pleasure as you came and came hard. He followed close behind you, rutting into you a few more times before he broke the kiss so that he could press his face against your throat. You jumped slightly at the sudden warmth that began to pool in your abdomen. His hips pumped in and out of you every few seconds, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You were starting to come down from your high, but you still managed to lazily move your hips against his, wanting all of it. Every last drop. You didn’t want any of it to go to waste. Not when it could be filling you up.

He peppered your face with soft kisses, and it wasn’t until he pulled away that you realized that he must have been crying at some point, his eyes slightly red and his cheeks wet. “I love you.” You didn’t need to be assured, but at this point he was saying it just to say it. Just because he could. “My bestest girl.” He smiled down at you, rubbing small circles into your flushed cheeks with his thumb.

You hummed lazily, finding it hard to keep your eyes open for too long. Elvis appeared to be wide awake, leaning his head against his hand as stared at you. After a few more seconds he slowly pulled out of you, and you couldn’t help but wince as you felt liquid leaking out of you. He reached down, using his ruined shirt to carefully wipe you up. He took his time, making sure that you were alright before pulling the comforter up and around you. “I’m goin’ to go get somethin’ to drink, alright?” He slipped his trousers back on, closing the door behind him as he stepped out of the room. Distantly you heard the front door open, Gladys and Vernon’s voices filling the small home.

“Oh. . . did y/n leave already?” There was an awkward silence before you could hear the sink turn on in the kitchen. It only took the middle aged woman a few seconds to notice the broken glass. “What in the sam hell happened in here? Elvis Aaron Presley- you broke one of my good cups!” There was a mumbled sorry and the sound of shattered glass being tossed into the metal garbage bin. You waited with bated breath for him to return, pulling the blanket further up around yourself just in case someone walked in. “Gladys. . . baby. . . let’s go and head to our room, alright? I think y/n’s still here, darlin’.” It was obvious that Vernon had clued in on what happened immediately. You could hear the discomfort in his voice as he spoke. “She’s here and you’re lookin’ like that? Put on a shirt. . . “ Her voice trailed off, and for a second you were sure that both you and Elvis were goners. “So does this mean you two are goin’ steady? Really? Oh, Elvis. . . I’m so happy for you.” She lowered her voice in the hopes that you might not hear her, but her voice was naturally loud. “Thank you mama. Do you mind ringin’ up her folks and lettin’ them know she’ll be staying the night? I’ll sleep on the couch if need be-” You had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. Well, it was moot-point now. Gladys seemed to think the same thing. “Her father and I were just sayin’ yesterday how badly we wanted to see you two together. They’ll be over the moon. Head to bed now, alright? I’ll call her mama right now.”

Elvis slipped into the room a second later, handing you a glass of water that you happily gulped down. He flicked the light off, crawling into bed beside you. “I thought she was going to kill me.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You placed the glass down on the bedside table, laying back against the pillows. Elvis moved to lay on his side, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Now they’ll be gunnin’ for us to get engaged. I’ll never hear the end of it at home.” Your mother was already quite the nag. She’d be relentless when you got home tomorrow. “Give me a month.” He mumbled sleepily, moving to lace his fingers with yours. You closed your eyes tightly, your cheeks flushing all over again. “A whole month? Really?” You teased quietly. He chuckled softly, placing a warm kiss against your shoulder before he fully settled into the mattress.

“Fine. A week.” And it didn’t sound like he was joking, either.

want to continue reading this story? check out part two.

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler elvis #elvis #austin butler smut #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis presley smut #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #baz luhrmann #austin butler fanfic #foreverdolly #smut #imagine #elvis presley imagine #elvis x reader #elvis movie

5K notes · View notes