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malachimochi · 1 year

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RARARARAARARARARARARARARARARARARA

This is the best fic I have ever read. NOT EVEN FUNNY IM SO DEAD ASS

𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑(𝐩𝐭 𝟏)| 𝟗𝟎𝐬!𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: your love life has been tragic to say the least, so after a rather public breakup you decide that you're done with bad boys. elvis is the lead singer of a well known and well loved metal band. he lives a hard and fast lifestyle and wouldn't dream of ever apologizing for it. the one thing that nobody would ever expect from a rough-around-the-edges kinda guy like elvis is the fact that the man is a hopeless romantic. and he's got his sights set on you. elvis presley was precisely the kind of person you were trying to avoid. you couldn't let him weasel his way into your life. . . . right?

warning/notes: SMUT! ahead, this thing is going to be dirty dirty so prepare yourselves, drug and alcohol use. you're seriously a sex symbol and everyone is obsessed with you. . . including me. elvis is an actual simp in this fic, but what's new with my writing? this fic does take place in the 90's. . . so just imagine 60's elvis throughout this fic, because that's exactly what i was doing. | this is part one of a three part mini series. i will be posting all three parts this week, so you will not have to wait a million years to be able to finish it. please please please heart this post, repost it and tell me what you think about it. i love interaction, and this is my first time posting in ages. i'm a little nervous about it.

word count: 5.3k

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The bar was hazy with thick cigarette smoke, but there was something special about the way that the neon lights shone through the fog that hung above the mass of grinding bodies. The music pounded away in your ears, and after the round of mixed drinks that you had downed with your group of friends, you couldn’t help but sway your body along with the beat. In a packed bar like this, where everybody was too drunk to notice or too high to care, you were just another somebody.

That was the draw to nightlife for you. It was a small reprieve, and maybe it made you a bit sick in the head, but you cherished it. No matter how self absorbed and ungrateful it sounded, you missed the days of feeling like a normal person. You missed being able to leave your house in a ratty old t-shirt and shorts without the fear of being plastered all over the front of a gossip magazine looming above your head. You missed going to the grocery store and taking your sweet time perusing the aisles. You missed the way your life had been before the organized chaos.

People have always paid extra attention to you. You had been the butt of many jokes during your early days in middle school. You were the ugly duckling- nothing but a scrawny little girl that came from an impoverished family. The year you turned thirteen everything changed though. Puberty had hit you like a freight train. Your curves had filled out and your face had lost all of its baby fat. In the blink of an eye all of the girls wanted to be your friends, and the boys that used to tease you were now trying their hardest to get your attention.

You only got prettier as time went on it would seem. People stopped caring about the unfortunate state of your home life all together, instead focusing on your looks and likeability. School was no longer hell from you, and you entirely had your appearance to thank for it. Becoming a model had happened just as quickly.

You had been on a date with an ex when you had first been discovered. You remembered that day vividly: the nasty fight during the car ride to the stadium, the overpriced beers as well as the crippling fear that you were allowing a man to emotionally beat you down. You had somehow ended up on the jumbotron, and all you could do was awkwardly smile and wave- blow a few kisses at the camera when it lingered on your face for a little too long. You had laughed it off, assuring your at-the-time boyfriend that it had been some sort of a coincidence. He had been the jealous and possessive sort. A man that worked in the marketing department of one of your state’s favorite beer companies saw you holding the bottle in your hand on the big screen, and the rest was history.

You felt blessed for your booming career and all of the attention that you had garnered over the last few years, but a part of you missed the days where you could go outside without cameras flashing or people asking something of you. Everybody always wanted something from you. Be it a simple picture, a signature or even a smile- at this point there wasn’t a part of you not owned or wanted by the public. Even other celebrities had an ulterior motive for trying to connect with you. You’d learned your lesson though. Dating was officially off the table. Well. . . dating celebrities, at least.

“I’m being serious this time, guys.” You tried to reason with your friends, reaching up to tangle your long manicured fingers into your messy updo. “Bad boys are out.” You seriously believed it this time too. No matter how hot, famous or rich you were, men were always going to be trash.

You had always been the type of girlfriend that went out of her way to take care of their partner. You hated drama, so starting unnecessary fights was beneath you. You were trusting to a fault, which had gotten you into trouble more than a handful of times. You had a big heart, and despite the constant disappointments you still believed in true love. You had finally come to the conclusion that the problem was never you. It had always been them. You were self aware enough to know that you had a bit of a. . .type.

“Bad boys” only wanted one thing from you though.

They just wanted sex. It had always been that way, even since high school. As much as you hated to admit it, you had never been in a stable relationship, even in the early years of your life before the tabloids kept tabs on your every move.

You loved sex, but it never led to anything good. The most you got out of it in most cases was nothing but momentary, fleeting satisfaction that only left you feeling more empty than you had been before. You were done with being used to beef up somebody's ego only to be discarded like garbage soon after.

Your close friend, Veronica, was quick to throw her arm around you, pressing your frame tightly into her side. “We need to find you someone nerdy. Like. . . like an accountant or something.” She snapped her fingers excitedly as though she had just solved world hunger.

You let out a small squeal, leaning your head back to laugh without restraint. In your inner circle on a night like this? Things seemed to just. . . fall into place. You were happy- obnoxiously so- and you couldn’t be bothered to care about anything else. You were sick and tired of crying over men that didn’t care about you. Especially ones that didn’t feel a fraction of what you felt for them. All that mattered now was the fact that they were playing remixes of all your favorite songs at this particular club and that you had just gotten your nails freshly painted earlier in the day. Your dress fit you like a glove, you were actually having a good hair day without the help of a stylist and the people that you had surrounded yourself with loved you like family. This was your element.

The drinks were flowing, your heart was happy, and you were tired of moping around and feeling bad for yourself.

An accountant was exactly what you needed.

“You’re so right! I need a sweet little accountant that I can come home to at the end of a long day. That sounds perfect to me. I need a man that lives a boring life and is more than willing to take time out of his not-so hectic life for me.” You agreed, pressing your cheek against your friend’s in a display of affection before grabbing your drink off of the table. “A toast! To. . .,” You bit your plush bottom lip as you tried to think of the best way to word what it was that you were looking for in a man. “To good guys.”

“To good guys!” They all chimed after you.

Your friends were all quick to clink their glasses against yours, happily joining you in downing the rest of their brightly colored glasses of alcohol.

“Excuse me!” You called out to one of the waitstaff, flagging her down with a wide dazzling smile.

The scantily dressed woman was quick to make her way over to your marked off section. The owner of the club insisted on putting you and your friends in VIP for ‘your safety’, though you were starting to think that all it was doing was drawing more attention towards your area. The younger woman smiled sweetly back at you, though you weren’t blind enough to not see the way that her fingers were anxiously twitching at her sides. A-list celebrities didn’t frequent clubs like this, so you were sure that she was probably scared out of her mind to do something wrong and incur your (nonexistent) wrath.

“W-What can I help you with?” What little confidence she had earlier was faltering now as she got closer and closer to you.

“I want to buy every person in this club a shot of tequila! Top shelf, please. We’re celebrating!” Tonight you were in an especially good mood considering your recent split with your heartthrob co-star. You were finally starting to feel better about it, which was a good sign that you were moving on.

You and your group’s shots arrived first, but within seconds tray after tray of plastic cups began circulating the bar. You were quick to cheers your friends once again, swallowing back the clear liquor. You had imbibed in a fair bit of alcohol already, so the burning sensation wasn’t as bad as it had been towards the beginning of your girls night out. Despite the slightly numb lips and hazy expression, you didn’t sway once in your heels as you continued to sway along to the beat of the music. You danced like nobody was watching, but little did you know that a certain blue eyed musician had his eye on you from across the club.

“Compliments of (F/N) (L/N).” The waitress motioned to the tray that she was holding up in front of the brunette’s face.

For a second all he could do was stare at the drinks, drunkenly trying to remember whether or not he ordered anything. His eyebrows twitched upwards in surprise as the woman’s words finally began to register. Wait a minute. . . who bought him a shot? The name sounded awfully familiar, so he must know the woman somehow. His rings glinted under the colored lights as he reached for the cup, the leggy blonde that had been keeping him company that night following suit.

“Who?” He asked dumbly, squinting his eyes to follow the direction that the waitress had pointed in.

“(F/N) (L/N). She’s an actress and model? She bought every-” And before the woman could let Elvis know that you had bought everyone in the entire club a shot he was already throwing the tequila back, tossing the plastic drunkenly back onto the table before pushing the blonde woman’s arm off from around him as though her touch burned him.

Because he had recognized you the second that he saw you, even from across the bar. You were prettier in person than you were on camera, which was rare in Los Angeles.

The woman that had once been keeping him company gaped up at the musician, her cheeks darkening with embarrassment as she realized that she was actively being ditched for another woman. In front of everybody that she had come to the club with.

“Fuck you, Presley!” She screamed after him, but the curse fell on deaf ears as he wove his way in between the writhing, sweaty bodies of dancing patrons.

He had his eyes glued on one person and one person only. Never in his life had he seen a woman that beautiful before- and Elvis had seen, kissed and fucked his fair share of hot women. He remembered exactly why your name sounded so familiar to him. You weren’t some chick whose feelings he had hurt or someone that his music label had asked him to play nice with.

You were a fuckin’ Playboy Bunny.

Your group of friends had stopped talking and had all turned to face him as he approached, their eyebrows knitted together as they tried to figure out exactly who he was and why he was there. Tall and lean, heavily tattooed with dark hair and blue eyes as bright as the morning sky. One by one he watched their expressions shift into recognition. Elvis lifted up a long leg, easily stepping over the velvet rope that had been put up around your section.

All you could do was watch, wondering exactly why Elvis Presley was approaching you with a smirk on his face. Was there something that you might have missed? You’d never met the man before in your life. You would have definitely remembered if you had.

He was clad in a black pair of jeans and a white tank top that fit snug enough to show off his nipple piercings. His thick gold necklaces caught the light as he bent down to shorten his frame, smiling directly at you. It was like the two of you were the only ones in the bar. His attention was perfectly undivided. His black hair hung loose in his eyes, undone from its usual updo that he had sported in all of the pictures you’d seen of him in the past. You had to admit though. . . there was something more dangerous about this version of Elvis. He seemed more wild and relaxed. More himself and less of the showman. It made your heart race, and admittedly kept you from shooing him off in the opposite direction.

Not even ten minutes ago you had sworn off bad boys, and yet here you were, watching with wide eyes as one sauntered right up to you.

His black boots stopped to rest right in front of your heeled feet, and he took his time looking you up and down, wanting you to see his approval. He wanted you to know just how irresistible he found you. In a club as loud as this one was, you had to learn how to communicate with your body.

Elvis had been raised in the south by a Christian family, but that didn’t mean that he was always a gentleman. He was far too drunk for that. So instead of thanking you for the shot or trying his hand at flirting with you, he plopped down in the spot beside you and leaned over.

Your jaw went slack as you felt his warm tongue trail all the way up from the sensitive pulsepoint at your neck to your temple. His nose brushed against your hair as his warm breath fanned over your ear. You could hear his heady breath, and it lit a fire inside of you. Rather than being outraged you found yourself clamping your thighs together in the hopes of creating some sort of friction. He pulled back only to smile drunkenly at you, drumming his tattooed hands against his seat as he waited for your reaction.

He watched you all while knowing that you had to have felt something. Your breath had caught at the sudden action, and he knew it. He saw the adorable flush to your cheeks and the glint in your glassy eyes. A cocky, satisfied huff left him as he leaned back against the leather booth. You, of course, exceeded his expectations when you turned towards your friend and repeated the action. Your group, no matter how prissy they all looked, were all good sports. They howled and cackled as one by one they licked each other’s face, following your lead without question.

“I’m Elvis.” He called over the music, watching as you gave him a knowing nod.

You opened your mouth in order to introduce yourself only for him to hold his hand up, giving a dismissive flick of his wrist. “No need. I know who ya are.” He stated with an upturned lip.

His smile was nothing short of goofy, his blue eyes sweet as he looked over your face again and again, almost as though he was committing every detail to memory. There was something about him that just felt. . . different. It felt good.

“Do ya wanna dance?” He nodded towards the packed dance floor, raising an eyebrow at you.

Your best friend tensed behind you. “What happened to good boys being in?” She whispered in your ear, shooting you a pleading look.

You couldn’t help but giggle, waving her off like it was no big deal. “This is just for tonight. We’re only going to dance, alright? Promise.” And with that you stood up, letting him take your hand and pull you out onto the dance floor.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you danced, only that you could feel long strands of your wavy hair clinging to the back of your arms after falling out from its’s updo. You were a drunken, sweaty mess and didn’t care one bit. All that mattered was that Elvis was making you laugh harder than you ever had before. His large hands felt too good on your hips as he swayed you back and forth, pressing you against his thigh. All you would have to do is arch your back just a fraction, and it would be your cunt that he would be leading you to grind against his thigh, not your hips. You should have hated yourself for the thought, but you were too far gone. All you knew was that he was handsome and was looking down at you as though you hung the moon.

He was so big and warm. Domineering in a kind of way that let you know he would be able to take care of you in the exact way that you preferred.

Your fingers gently traced a few of the tattoos on his arms as you continued to sway back and forth, eying the colorful, sweaty skin as he continued to wrap himself around you. He smelled like expensive cologne and warm skin- and it took every last shred of self restraint that you had in your body not to bury your nose into his chest and inhale. Being around him was making you lose your mind.

The two of you only left the dance floor to down more drinks and get away from the loud speakers from time to time when you wanted to converse with each other. It was far too loud to have any sort of heart to hearts with him, but he went out of his way to show off his flashy personality to you.

“I really have to go, Elvis. I’ve got a flight to catch tomorrow afternoon, which means I have to wake up early to pack.” You explained, stumbling outside so that you could wait for the cab that the bar had called for you.

Elvis had been nice enough to offer to wait with you, not wanting any seedy characters to get any bad ideas. It was nearly four o’clock in the morning, and you didn’t even want to think about the kind of people that might be lurking in the darkness. L.A was a terrifying place to be left alone in. Especially at night.

“The clubs not even closin’ yet though. Why don’t you wait for just one more hour?” He begged, his gold bracelet sliding down to his forearm as he clasped his hands together over his chest.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the dyed brunette eyeing the adorable way your nose scrunched up as you did so. Yeah. . . he was completely smitten. It was official.

“I’m serious, Elvis. I have to get home.” You weren’t giving in, no matter how much you wanted to.

Your friend's words were finally pounding their way back into your head, reminding you that the man in front of you would only break your heart and leave you to pick up the pieces afterwards. Casual sex used to be fun for you, but you were bored with the notion. What you were looking for was someone to settle down with. Elvis Presley definitely didn’t seem like the type.

“Well where are you doin’ tomorrow? Maybe we can do somethin’ fun.” He needed to see you as soon as possible. He could tell that staying over at your place or vice versa was completely out of the question, so he didn’t even attempt to offer. You were worth the wait anyway, so he didn’t mind taking his time. He could tell that you were old school, and he respected it.

This way of thinking was completely out of character for Elvis though. The reason why he wasn’t afraid to sleep around and forget about the women that he spent time with was because the two of you were very similar. The musician was a hopeless romantic, and wanted to fall in love more than he cared to ever say.

If you weren’t in love then you weren’t alive. That was his way of thinking, at least.

He wanted somebody to share his life with, but he hadn’t met the right person. He had tried his hand at long term relationships a couple of times, but women had a track record of breaking his heart. So he had gotten into the habit of being the break-er and not the break-ee.

“I’m headed to Mexico for this business trip. If I show up with huge bags under my eyes my manager will not be happy.” You watched as he perked up, your eyebrows raising in confusion.

“I love Mexico! Where exactly are you stayin’?”

“Cacún. . .” You replied slowly, not exactly sure whether or not you wanted him to know. There was something about his reaction to the news that made you think that he might try and. . . - no. No way. No normal person- musician or not- would book a last minute flight just to spend more time with you. Stable people’s minds didn’t work like that.

“Oh, that’s perfect. We’re goin’ to Cancún then.” No hesitation.

You guffawed, blinking hard at him as you tried to figure out exactly how to handle this situation. You were used to men being forward with you, but this was on an entirely different level.

“You’re not following me to Mexico,” You told him, reaching out to give his arm a small shake when you noticed the devious smile pulling up at his lips. “Elvis, I’m serious.”

“Oh, I’m so comin’, no matter how much you beg.”

The taxi pulled up to the curb before you could say anything else. With a loud sigh you opened the door for yourself, blurting out “no you’re not” as you closed the door soundly behind you. Before you could even blink the man was wrenching the other backdoor open, sliding his way inside. You laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. He had to be playing with you, because there was no way he could be serious.

“Sir, please wait a minute. He’s not coming with me.” You told the taxi driver before turning to face the black haired man. “Elvis, you are not coming to Mexico. Okay? It’s something that I have to do for work. Now. . . can you please let me go home?” The alcohol was beginning to take its toll on you, and you felt exhausted. Your bed was practically calling out to you. So no matter how charismatic or handsome the singer was, you refused to let him come home with you.

“I’ll get out of the car if you do one thing for me.”

You weren’t surprised when he asked for your number, and like an idiot you complied, writing the words “don’t call” right above your digits.

It was only when he got out of the car with a wide smile on your face that you realized how torn you were. Part of you knew that he shouldn’t call, but a large chunk of you really wanted him to despite that fact.

What you didn’t see was the way Elvis stared after the taxi until it had completely disappeared down the street, and then at the small scrap of paper in his hands. He gently traced his finger over your loopy, feminine handwriting. Eager to get home so that he could give you a lil ring.

The phone had been ringing off the hook since ten o’clock that morning. One after the other, Elvis had left you voicemail after voicemail. You had half the mind to just rip out the cord and cut your losses, but knew that your manager would have no way to contact you if she needed to. So you put up with the inappropriate amount of calls.

“Ya did buy me a shot of tequila last night, which I think has to be a sign that I’m supposed to go to Mexico with ya.”

Beep.

“Me and my band just finished recordin’ our album, which means that I have way too much time on my hands. Really, you would be doin’ me a damn favor if you let me go with you.”

Beep.

“Elvis Presley in Cancún. Elvis Presley in Cancún. Elvis Presley and his weiner are fuckin’ comin’ to Cancún.” His singing echoed around the house.

Beep.

“Hola, mi amor-”

Beep.

“Cancún~,” You bit your lip to keep your smile at bay as you dragged your heavy silver suitcase down your stairs and up to the front door. “Cancú-”

“Elvis.”

“Darlin’!” He called out excitedly as you picked up the phone for the first time that entire morning.

“Don’t. Come.” You tried using your stern voice, hoping he would finally take you seriously.

A beat, and then came his answer.

“I’m fuckin’ comin’.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Don’t.” And with that you hung up, dragging your luggage out your front door and towards the waiting taxi.

You should have been appalled, but how could you be? Because what if he really did show up? The thought of seeing him again made her palms go a bit sweaty. "U-Umm. . . You can just drop me off at the front. There's no need to try and park with all of that airport traffic."

“Are you looking for someone?” Your friend asked, standing up the tips of her toes so that she could shove her carry-on into the overhead compartment.

You pushed the sunglasses higher up on the bridge of your nose, leaning further back into your seat as you watched the door to the plane like a hawk. You hated the fact that Veronica was so observant. Well. . . in this case, at least. She could read you like a book. She had already questioned you about last night until she was blue in the face, and the last thing you needed was for her to find out that there was a possibility that he might be following you all the way to Mexico. And why? You still had no clue.

“Of course not. I’m just eager to lift off, is all. I’m hoping to take a little nap until we get there.” You hated lying more than anything, but you were willing to do anything to keep her from lecturing you.

She meant well, and you loved her for that. You just couldn’t help but feel guilty for dancing with Elvis last night, even if it had meant absolutely nothing. It had to have meant absolutely nothing to you. The two of you hadn’t even kissed, which meant that you technically hadn’t gone back on your word. Good boys were in. And bad boys?

They were out.

The nicer beachside resorts loomed high above the bustling city, their sleek designs and gaudy terraces visible from the lower streets. You had decided to roll down the window of the car so that you could enjoy the warm night air. The smells, sounds, and sights were so different from those that you were used to in L.A. It was a nice change of pace, whether you were here for work purposes or not. All you had to do was play nice with a room full of rich old men and then you’d be in the clear. Your friend had excitedly made plans for the entire weekend, doing her fair share of research to make sure that the two of you had the best time. She’d even called your resort ahead of time so that she could know what kind of food they served. She had originally agreed to come with you right after your bad breakup to keep you company, but what had once been a means to look out for you and offer you support had quickly turned into her hatching a plan to keep your mind off of things.

The fact that this trip also gave her a means to try and dissuade you from ever talking to Elvis again was just an added bonus.

“Ronnie, have you ever seen something so beautiful? Look at that.” You pointed out the window, ushering her to lean closer against you so that she could see what you were seeing.

A crowd of people were dancing amongst each other, string lights swaying softly in the oceanside breeze as they clapped joyously along with the music. You were a stickler for romance films. The cheesier, the better. It was almost as though you were watching one unfold right before your very eyes.

You continued to point this way and that, your eyes wide as you tried to fully bask in the city all around you. For a second you forgot all about the crazy musician and his threat to follow you to Mexico. It was just you and your best friend spending some much needed time away from the messy city life of Los Angeles. The car began to climb the brick road all the way up to the largest resort, intricate metal lanterns hanging from the large front porch of the building.

“They have us staying here?” Veronica gaped, her eyes wide with excitement. This was her first time out of the country in ages, and she was planning to pack in as much as she possibly could over the three day weekend. She had been sure to warn you to prepare yourself for a packed itinerary.

“I had no clue it would be this nice.” You mumbled your reply, reaching your hand out numbly as you watched a few members of the staff pour out from the front lobby.

The car door was being opened for you in the blink of an eye, your luggage already being carried up and into the building.

“Miss (L/N) and friend, we’re so pleased that you could bless us with your presence. My name is Oliver and I will be taking care of all of your needs. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything at all.” Oliver looked to be a year or two younger than you, dressed up in a pressed suit and perfectly starched tie. He sounded like he was reading off of a script, eager to please the star and her close friend.

When you had envisioned Cancún you hadn’t thought of. . . such a fancy resort. Sprawling beaches and family owned restaurants were more your style, but this? You’d happily thank your manager for booking you such a sweet gig. You and your friend would be staying in your own suites on the top floor for free, and all you had to do was sit and look pretty during dinner tonight. Living the life of a celebrity was still new to you, so you had been told that you still had that “small town” charm that people adored so much. You were personable and genuine, which was rare to find in Sin City. Your good looks and sweet attitude was, thankfully, the reason why you were able to live such a lush lifestyle.

“Thank you, Oliver. If you could just point me in the direction of our suites that would be amazing. I need to get dressed for tonight.” Your white sneakers and yoga pants felt hideously out of place in the large lobby. Men and women in full glamor passed by you and your leisurely dressed friend, causing the both of you to duck your heads down in embarrassment in fear of being perceived.

“Of course. Here is your key ma’am,” Oliver slid you the golden key with a well trained smile. “And then here is yours.”

You started to walk off in the direction of the elevator but froze as he called your name once again.

“Someone delivered flowers for you. I can have them brought to your room as well if you’d like.” The young brunette reached down on the table behind him, placing the intricate bouquet down on the counter in front of you.

Your jaw dropped as you realized just how expensive something like that must have been, especially to be delivered. Peonies, babies breath, roses- it was huge. You couldn’t think of anyone that would deliver flowers to you. Not in Cancún, at least.

Veronica elbowed your side gently, eagerly urging you to read the card.

“It’s from-” You couldn’t help but bite your lip, trying to keep your smile at bay. Tonight was already turning out to be wonderful. . . and you practically just landed.

That smile, however, was quick to fall off of your face as you read the card.

i wanted to give credit to my amazing beta readers! @meds4beatlemania, @austinsmutler and a special thanks to @memphis-mania. mem literally held my hand throughout the editing process and gave me the confidence i needed to put on my big girl panties and post! are you interested in becoming a beta reader? feel free to message me!

taglist: @knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior

and the big daddy crew: @powerofelvis @ggwritesstuff @woundmetender @eliseinmemphis @polksalademma @flwrs4aust @headfullofpresley @cryingabtab @austinbutlersbaby @lindszeppelin @rosaminny

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malachimochi · 1 year

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let’s go make a film

summary: austin has the wonderful idea of making a sex tape he can watch while he’s away for filming.

warnings: smut! oral (fem and male receiving), filming, face-fucking, etc.

“hey. i have an idea.” austin walked into the living room abruptly. you were sat on the couch watching a movie, austin was packing for ohio where he would be filming bikeriders.

“what’s this idea, boy genius?” you paused your movie and turned your attention to your boyfriend.

“let’s make a sex tape.” he suggested bluntly, you laughed, scoffing.

“yeah, right.” you smiled. he could not be serious.

“i’m serious.” he is serious. “it’ll be like a safe keep. i’ll need something to keep me sane while i’m in ohio.”

“austin, what if it gets leaked?” he walked over to you and sat down on the couch, rubbing your bare leg. “we’ll never be able to recover.”

“how would it get leaked? i keep my phone locked on me like iron man’s heart.” his smile was easygoing, you were anything but.

“you saw how easily he ripped that thing out of chest in endgame.” you tilted your head at him.

“aw, c’mon. it’ll be nice to have when we’re all old and wrinkly. i’m already halfway there.” you laughed at this, thinking it over. it would be nice to have while he’s gone. and if he’s not available for facetime, you could easily pull up a video of him making love to you. you nodded to yourself.

“okay.” austin’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline in shock.

“r-really?” he questioned.

“don’t make me change my mind.” and with that, you straddled his lap and placed your lips on his. you felt him set his phone up against the lamp on the side table and began filming. “there’s not to much action going on right now.” you looked over to the camera, biting your lip when austin began kissing and sucking on your neck. soft moans fell from your lips and austin’s hands trailed down to your waist, rocking you against him.

“enough action to make me hard already.” he laughed breathily against your ear, sending chills up your spine. you turned your head from his phone and back to his lips, teeth clashing and his tongue finding its way into your mouth. his groaned into the kiss, grinding you harder against him. “fuck, lay down.”

while you obeyed his demand, austin grabbed his phone and set it up to where it could fit your bottom half and his head into the frame. he tested out the angle before biting the hem of your panties and dragging them down your legs, tossing them somewhere behind him. you giggled and covered your face. this was about the naughtiest thing you’d ever done. never in your life did you think you’d be filming yourself having sex, yet, here you were. austin licked a stripe up your slit, making you suck in a harsh breath at the contact.

“god, you taste so good, baby. like fucking candy.” he went back to licking and sucking your juices, spreading your wetness up to your clit and pressing a kiss to the mound before sucking it into his mouth. a loud moan fell from your lips and you covered your mouth with your hand. austin wasn’t having any of that. he took your hand away from your mouth with a tsk. “don’t hide those pretty sounds from me, baby. wanna hear how good i make you feel.”

“always make me feel good, aus. so fucking perfect.” you moaned, feeling two of his fingers at your entrance. he gathered up some of your wetness and glided it into you. you gasped, gripping the arm of the couch behind you. austin always made you feel euphoric and with the added adrenaline from his phone capturing everything, you could feel your orgasm coming and quick. “gonna cum, aus.”

he moaned around your nub, the vibration had you reeling and his fingers working their magic inside you had your toes curling. with a deep breath and shaking legs, you came all over his mouth and his fingers fucked you through your orgasm. he came back up to you, kissing your lips. you could taste yourself on him.

“please, fuck me.” you whined looking into his blue eyes. he smiled, kissing you gently before leaning over to grab his phone and tuck it into his pocket. he picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bedroom. he laid you down gently. you were sideways on the bed and he walked over to the dresser to set up his phone again, pressing record and making sure it could capture your body and where he would be fucking you into the mattress. he made his way back over to you and you sat up on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes. tugging the hem of his shirt, you pleaded to him with your eyes to take his shirt off and you did the same, throwing the clothing item on the floor. you toyed with the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers.

you brought them both down, just enough so that his hard cock could be released from the tight confinements. your mouth watered at the sight of him. red tip, leaking with precum, looking painfully hard and begging for some attention. you stroked him a bit before sucking the tip into your mouth. austin hissed at the sensation, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail, looking over at his phone again to make sure the framing was okay. you swirled your tongue around his tip, bringing more of him into your mouth and soon began bobbing your head. you pulled off and austin groaned.

“fuck my throat.” you said, looking back up at him, he nearly came from those words and he didn’t need to be told again when you opened your mouth and he guided his length back to your mouth. you relaxed your throat and tapped austin’s thigh to signal him that you were ready. he slowly thrusted into your mouth, with each thrust going deeper and deeper until he was fucking your mouth with everything he had. you had drool pooling out of your mouth, your eyes were watering, and the oxygen you were getting out of your nose wasn’t nearly the amount you needed, but his groans and sounds of pleasure was enough to make it through.

“god, i’m gonna cum, baby.” he leaned his head back and listened to you gag around him. he was so close, so painfully close. what brought him to his climax was when you began rubbing yourself and he lost all control, shooting his seed down your throat. he moaned loudly and pulled out. you swallowed every last drop and opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him. “good girl.” he brought his index finger and thumb to hold your chin and kissed you sweetly. “lay down, sweet girl.”

you did as told, spreading your legs as you did so. his eyes held so much adoration for you and it had you blushing and looking away from him and to his phone that was capturing every single second of this. the thought made your wetness drip down your thighs and your heart beat faster with every second.

“i can’t wait to watch this all back.” you whispered to him. and he hummed in agreement, leaning down to kiss your lips, moving down to your neck and sucking to leave a few marks to miss him bye. he continued his way down to your breasts that were left bare underneath your t-shirt and sucked at the soft skin, leaving more marks all the way down your stomach. “fuck me, austin.”

“don’t rush me, woman.” he teased, coming back up to your lips for one more searing kiss before lining his length up with your entrance. you leaned up on your elbows to watch him go in inch by inch. you moaned as he bottomed out, dropping to lay back down. “you’re still so tight for me, darling. like you were fucking made for me.”

he slowly began thrusting, increasing speed with each snap of his hips. you closed your eyes in pleasure, your moans bouncing off the walls and you found yourself grateful that you two owned a house together instead of an apartment with neighbors that would surely hate you. you wrapped your legs around his waist, bring him closer to you and advancing the angle, making both you and him moan. his hand went to your throat squeezing gently. you grabbed his wrist, bring his hand up to your lips and you kissed his palm before taking one of his digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the pad of his finger.

“f-fucking hell, y/n. you tryin’ to kill me?” he groaned, putting his hand your abdomen. he gasped, feeling himself in your stomach. “gimme your hand, baby.” he grabbed your hand and placed it where his was and you moaned as you felt him. “i’m in your fucking stomach. fucking my baby so good.” he said through gritted teeth, pulling out and turning your around to be on your hands and knees. he slammed into you and pushed your face into the duvet. this new angle made you gasp, your hands clutching the cotton cover harshly, your knuckles turning white.

austin’s stomach was against your back and the only sounds in the room were your and his sounds of pleasure and the slapping of skin against skin. he gathered your hair into his hand and brought you up to where your back was against his chest. his lips found their way to your neck and his hand found it’s way to your clit, rubbing strategic circles onto the bud. your body was curling and it was getting harder to stay up straight.

“austin, jesus christ. i’m gonna cum.” you warned, feeling your second orgasm approaching quicker than you hoped.

“cum all over my fucking cock, baby. gonna fuck some babies into you while i’m at it.” he growled into your ear, fingers still working your clit and his thrusts were growing sloppy the closer he was getting.

“wanna cum together?” you asked breathlessly. you loved when you two would cum at the same time, it was like a soul experience and a connection you couldn’t explain.

“yeah, just hold out for a minute.” he said, pushing you back down into the mattress. you held your orgasm, your legs shaking and eyes rolling back. his thrusts were getting harder and sloppier by the second and you knew he was close by the sounds he was making. “count of three.” he said.

“1, 2,—” you were cut off by the feeling of his cum coating your walls, sending you over the edge at the same time. he collapsed on your back, catching his breath and caressing your skin.

“holy shit.” he breathed, kissing the skin of your back. “i love you.”

“i love you more.” you giggled into the duvet. you looked to his phone and saw that it was still recording. “i think we should go one more round so you have a variety to choose from in ohio.”

“fuck yeah.”

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