#Elvis: The Series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

headfullofpresley · 1 year

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 3,8K

Series summary: Elvis has worked hard to become the successful adult movie director that he is today and all that hard work is paying off by how well the public reacts to his work and how much money is coming into his bank account, despite the fact that porn is still very much illegal. Working in the adult industry is not something you saw yourself doing despite coming from a place where it always has been out in the open, but you soon find yourself swept up and away by a certain American director and right into the heart of the porn industry. The only question that remains is... will you sink, or will you swim?

Chapter summary: Working on his newest and what he believes his biggest project yet, Elvis flies to Amsterdam to shoot most of it. Everything is going well until he's forced to fire his leading actress on the spot and there's a stop being put to his work. But as he wanders into a cafe for a much needed drink in the bustling city, faith seems to be on his side.

Warnings: porn director!Elvis, European!reader, set in the year 1970 (so some details may be a little off?), obvious mentions of sex/porn etc, mentions of prostitution, Elvis giving reader a lowkey foot rub in public (honestly, he's going to be into feet in this series bc i'm feral), mentions of soft drugs, alcohol consumption.

A/N: hi! this idea was born from an ai but mostly from The Deuce (definitely watch it!), where i took most inspiration from. i'm super excited about this series, and honestly it's giving me a lot of inspiration to write in general again! this is going to be a short series- i'm thinking around 5 parts, but we shall see, hm? no smut in this part, but obvi there will be in future parts, as well as some darker topics. hope y'all enjoy! ❤

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Who ever said Hollywood was a jungle has obviously never set foot in New York City.

They’ve obviously never experienced what a real concrete jungle is like and they definitely don’t know that the Golden Age of Hollywood has seen its best days. Directors were feeling pressures from the outside – from the public that wanted something different, something more than those cringy movie kisses. The smaller movie theaters were starting to ID their customers because their movies weren’t so family friendly anymore. Establishments that specialized in peep shows were popping out of the ground like weeds. Burlesque clubs were turning into proper stripclubs and people would rather spend their money on naked girls dancing in their faces than on overpriced cocktails at supper clubs.

They didn’t know that the world was changing.

They didn’t know that even though adult entertainment was far from legal, it was one of the most produced and exported and imported products in the country.

They didn’t know. But Elvis Presley did.

Having made his start as a director ten years ago when he was in his early twenties and was nothing but a naive Southern boy from Memphis, he crawled and clawed his way through shitty jobs in New York. From parking cars, to serving drinks in sketchy bars to being a bodyguard at a massage parlor and driving around hookers to their appointments… He’s seen it all, and he’s done it all.

He worked hard to get where he currently was – being one of the most famous porn directors in New York. Everyone knew who he was and everyone respected him. Times Square was home to countless of peep shows, stripclubs and whatnot and you’ll bump into a prostitute every five steps. Elvis never used their services but he was friendly with them, greeting them as if he had known them forever. Which in some girls’ cases, was true.

Most of those girls were looking for a way out, wanting to get off the streets and into the safety of a movie studio, but Elvis has learned from a previous mistake where he hired a girl who had a pimp and the leech tried to get him to pay them more than the other actors. Since then, Elvis stuck to actors and actors only.

The director was doing good for himself, owning his own studio and brand under the name of “Presley Productions”, and living in a spacious apartment in the city, yet he still wanted more.

He wanted to make a movie so good, it would get international attention. He wanted it to be so good that theaters wouldn’t stop showing it and he wanted it to be so damn good that it would get him a shiny, gold award on his shelf.

And whenever Elvis had his mind set on something, he made sure to accomplish whatever it was that he wanted to accomplish.

It would only be a matter of time before Hollywood would get whiff of his work, and who he was, and for him to open up a second studio there. Elvis didn’t believe in “Hollywood first, the world later” though – he was going to knock everyone off their feet, from the housewives in California to the business men in Hong Kong, all at the same time.

The script he had written for his newest movie had been done for months now and all there was left to do was the casting. The process went fairly simple and easy – his main actress was Annette Haven and she was a gorgeous brown eyed brunette, but for some reason he couldn’t get used to her.

Granted, he wasn’t the one playing in the movie and her co-star seemed to have no issues with her, so perhaps he figured he was just being too picky because he was so passionate about this project. Annette was friendly during the first few weeks of filming but as they got to Amsterdam, the sex capital of the world, to shoot most of the movie, her behavior started to change.

She was cranky on set, pranced around like she was the Queen and was late for filming almost every single day. To put it mildly, she was getting on Elvis’s nerves and when she showed up high as a kite one afternoon, the director was done with this girl.

He never was a tiran on set and always made sure everyone was doing okay, but right now it was like a bomb exploded and everyone watched and were awkwardly rooted to their places as Elvis had a go at the main actress and fired her on the spot.

“Take the rest of the day off. We’ll figure things out tomorrow,” he announced to the other actors and the crew. He gave them a bitter smile before he turned around and walked out of the studio they rented, angry and annoyed at the fact he lost a full day of filming, his leading actress and money.

He needed a goddamn drink.

Amsterdam was a crowded, bustling city and in some ways, it was much like New York but it was different in so many ways too. People were a little more laid back here (and he figured the many coffee shops where one definitely was not drinking coffee but getting high at instead had something to do with that) and instead of running into a lady of the night on a street corner, they were placed behind windows in certain areas. The Red Light District, for example. It was crowded with tourists and while there was a long canal outstretched in the middle of the district, there were shops, bars, coffee shops and sexual tinted business lined up on the sides, drawing people’s attention left and right. The infamous windows were located in the alley ways, the red lights that were on indicating a girl was working at the time. While he was definitely no stranger to sex workers and what the normal citizen would call “wildness of it all”, it was like he had stepped into a different world, yet it felt a little bit like home too.

Spotting a typical Dutch brown cafe on a corner, he stepped inside and was welcomed by the loud rumbles of laughter of men shooting pool and sitting at the tables and the bar and the smell of cigarette smoke and beer. Nobody aside from the waitress even spared him a glance as he sat at a table near the window and the second he looked at the girl that came up to him to take his order, a smirk spread across his face. In the middle of August, it was only natural for the girl to be wearing a pair of shorts and he was glad this place didn’t set any strict dress codes for their employees, because Good Lord, those legs looked like they went on for days. He noticed the red heeled sandals she wore on her feet and her fresh pedicure on her toes, drawing him in even more. The way that black little apron was tied around her waist did things to him and as his eyes shamelessly moved further up and noticed the size of her breasts that were filling up the tight top she was wearing, he could only think two things – first, he needed to get his hands on those things. And second, she would be perfect for the movie he was shooting out here.

Annette Haven who?

“Hallo?!” You spoke again, waving your hand in front of the dark haired man that just sat down by the window when he didn’t respond to you the first time. Instead, he was shamelessly checking you out from head to toe and working in a bar in the Red Light District, you were used to it but it still got you a little annoyed at times. At least some men tried to hide it and most men actually spoke, with actual words. As he excused himself in English and scanned the crowd for a second, you realised he wasn’t Dutch and decided to cut him some slack.

Perhaps he really was a creep, but your boss wouldn’t be too happy if a customer walked out without being served.

Happened before, because while other waitresses accepted the bold and creepy men that came to drink almost every single day, your mother had always taught you to stand up for yourself and to not take any shit from anyone.

Besides, this was 1970. What did men expect? For you to drape yourself over their laps and beg them to take you? Absolutely not.

“A beer’s just fine, honey,”

You bit your tongue to ignore the pet name and flashed the American a smile, looking him in the eye. “Anything else? Something to eat maybe?”

Elvis grinned and shook his head, watching you walk away to get his drink. You were a very pretty girl with a very pretty body and he realised he was going to amp up his charm if he wanted to see what was underneath.

And he definitely wanted to see what was underneath.

“There you go,” you said as you came back over to his table and put his beer down in front of him. Before you could make your escape once more, Elvis spoke up.

“You know, your English is pretty good,”

At this, you almost scoffed as you stood up straight and looked at him with a hand on your hip. These Americans were always so full of themselves.

“Thanks. It’s only a language spoken in countries all over the world,” you smiled sarcastically and Elvis grinned in amusement as he leaned his arms on the edge of the table, quirking an eyebrow.

Feisty. He was intrigued.

“I been to Germany back in the day and believe me, they definitely didn’t sound as pretty as you,”

You raised your eyebrows a little at the odd compliment. Didn’t sound as pretty? That was the first time you ever heard something like that. This guy looked exactly what you imagined a pimp to look like – gold rings adorning his fingers, dressed up nicely in a velvet crushed jacket despite the heat outside – yet he used the word “pretty”, instead of something vulgar like most customers did when they’d try to flirt with you.

You knew you had probably judged him too quickly and although you were intrigued by him the same way he was by you, you weren’t going to make it easy on him.

“Let me tell you a secret,” you whispered as you leaned down and closer to him a little, looking straight into his eyes, which you noticed were very blue and very pretty. “You’re not in Germany anymore, sir,”

Elvis let out a laugh as you gave his shoulder a playful pat and raised his glass, a sly smirk settling on his features.

“You got that right, honey,”

As you walked away, he didn’t fail to notice the playful smile you threw his way as you looked over your shoulder.

Elvis wasn’t planning on spending half the day in this particular cafe, but for some reason, he was already on his third beer and he just couldn’t leave.

He could say it was because he needed to clear his mind and think of a solution to fix the problem about not having a lead actress anymore, but the little voice in his head told him he was looking right at that exact solution.

You.

He knew it would be risky – you were just a waitress and you probably had never set foot on a movie set in your entire life, let alone an adult movie set, but he couldn’t stop imagining you in front of the camera, in all kinds of positions.

As he watched you move around the place, serving customers, it was almost like he was watching a movie right now. The way you moved so effortlessly on those little heels, the way you avoided customers that were a little too handsy and the way you were laughing with local customers who you’d probably served many times before.

The sound of your laugh was like music to his ears and he wondered how you’d sound while you were being fucked with those gorgeous long legs dangling in the air. Just imagining you moaning in pleasure had a shiver run down his spine.

And while you had pretended you didn’t like Elvis at all and he was just another annoying American tourist, you couldn’t help yourself from glancing into his direction every so often and making your way to his table to ask if he needed anything else.

When you did just that after talking to some locals at the bar, he looked at you and smiled.

“Sit down,” he told you as he nodded to the empty seat across from him as he leaned back in his seat. “Doesn’t the old man give you a break?”

You chuckled softly as he nodded to an older looking, grumpy man in the corner behind the bar. Your boss. He barely did any of the work and just sipped on his beer, watching his waitresses work their asses off.

For a shitty pay, too.

“Hardly,” you admitted honestly with a soft chuckle, noticing that your boss wasn’t paying any attention to you so you sat down opposite the dark haired man that had his eye on you the entire time. “So, what brought you to Amsterdam?”

Elvis was pleasantly surprised as you asked him that. Not only would it give him the chance to keep you at his table longer, but now was also the moment where he would have to tell you what he did. And find out your reaction to it.

So, he just came clean right away. In one way, it was a good test to see how open-minded the Europeans really were.

And if you were a full blown, crazed feminist.

God… please don’t be a fullblown crazed feminist, he prayed mentally.

“I’m here to make a porno.”

A silence lingered between you two, but it only lasted for about three seconds. You nodded your head and chuckled in an amused but friendly manner.

“Are you an actor?”

Thank God.

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head a little as he took a sip of his beer, licking his lips. “I’m the director of the movie,”

You leaned your arms on the table and sat on the edge of your seat, crossing your legs under the table as you swung your foot back and forth a little. Elvis looked at the way your breasts were pressed against your arms for a second before looking back at your face, an excited twinkle in his eyes.

“And why are you not directing your movie right now?” You wondered aloud, tilting your head a little.

“Well,” he let out a laugh as he tapped one of his rings against his glass for a second, looking at you. “My leading actress wasn’t as fit for the role as I thought.”

“Or maybe you aren’t as good as a director as you think you are,” you teased with a grin on your face.

At that, Elvis just looked at you with a raised eyebrow. He could tell you were pulling his tail, but perhaps far in the back of his mind… he wondered if that could be the truth. He decided not to let his insecurities get to him though, not right now, and when he felt your swaying foot hit his leg under the table, he reached a hand down and grabbed your ankle. You widened your eyes a little and stared at him as he gave you a cocky grin and removed your shoe, dropping the red heel to the floor before he put your foot in his lap.

You looked around nervously to see if your boss caught onto you slacking yet, but he was still busy with the locals at the bar. Elvis ran his hand down from your ankle to your foot and pressed his thumb against your sole, making you turn back to him and bite your tongue to hold back a small gasp.

While you certainly never let customers touch you, right now you weren’t trying to get away. Nor could you muster up a smart remark to throw at his head. You’d been on your feet all day, wearing those heels, and the little massage he suddenly decided to give you wasn’t entirely unwelcomed.

“I am a great director, sweetheart, trust me..” he grinned as he looked you in the eye, a kind but mischievous gleam in his blue orbs. This man definitely was bold and for the first time in your waitressing “career”, you were enjoying the attention of a customer. And a tourist, at that. “Some people just can’t resist the many coffee shops in the city,”

You chuckled, nodding your head as you tried to focus on the conversation and not his large hand rubbing your foot under the table.

“Ha! Bet she was A-American,” you mentally slapped yourself for the stutter (and the lame reply) but if he noticed it, he didn’t mention it. Instead he just grinned and caressed his short nails across the arch of your foot a little.

“Who said she was American?”

“Well, if she was Dutch, she could’ve.. resisted the tempting clouds of weed,” you countered back with a small, playful grin on your face.

He laughed as he cocked his eyebrow, his eyes staring intently into yours as he found your pressure point and pushed his thumb into it, making you nearly moan out loud right there in the middle of your work place.

You managed to save yourself with a small groan.

“Think you can do better?”

At this point, your face was flushed and he realised he was slowly breaking through that sarcastic façade of yours. Then again, he wasn’t exactly playing fair with the way he was shamelessly giving you a foot rub and while you had genuinely peaked his interest, he was a little desperate too.

He wanted to finish his movie and make sure it was good. It had to be perfect. And he didn’t want to get a professional actress now that he had laid eyes on you.

Porn wasn’t a strange concept to you despite never having been in a porno yourself. You lived in a city where sex was out in the open for everyone to see and consume and while porn was illegal here as much as it was in the States, it was tolerated. Perhaps it wasn’t such a strange idea for you to dip your toes into the world of adult entertainment.

“I know I can do better,” you said confidently, looking over at your boss who looked your way and you quickly pulled your foot out of Elvis’ grip, slipping it back into your heel. “Just tell me when and where,”

Elvis let out a hearty laugh as he widened his eyes at you a little. This had been easier than he expected – you were offering yourself for the job and while that was certainly surprising, he wasn’t complaining at all. You were perfect for this movie and the fact that you were inexperienced in the industry might even be better for the storyline.

After all, the lead girl was supposed to be a little naive and a whole lot of innocent.

You quickly urged him for a phone number and address when you noticed the sour face of your boss staring at you from behind the bar and Elvis quickly scribbled his contact information down on the back of a paper coaster as he realised he didn’t have any business cards on him at the moment. You grasped it from the table and shoved it in your pocket, getting up from your seat.

“Hold up,” he said after he paid for his drinks and you were about to walk off to the bar to get back to work. You felt him grabbing your wrist and you turned around, looking at him as your heartbeat sped up a little. “I didn’t get your name..”

“It’s Y/N,” You told him, gently pulling your arm out of his grip. You wouldn’t mind holding onto him a little longer but you felt your boss’ eyes burning in the back of your head.

“I’m Elvis. Elvis Presley.”

You nodded and flashed him a smile, tapping the back pocket of your shorts where you had put the coaster in. He grinned and nodded, slowly leaving the cafe, hoping you’d call him and go through with this.

A pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to work in a shitty place like this.

You watched him go and the entire time your boss was giving you an earful about work ethics as you stood behind the bar, you barely heard the words coming out of his mouth. Quite frankly, you just weren’t paid enough to deal with this. You liked your co-workers but that’s all they were – co-workers. They didn’t pay your bills and neither did your shitty monthly pay that your boss gave you.

You wanted a change. No, you needed a change.

And maybe it was a naive and stupid thing to do, but for some reason, you had trusted that stupid American tourist.

Maybe he wasn’t even a director at all, but the longer your boss went on and on about your behavior, you decided it was worth the risk.

“You know what,” you interrupted him loudly, pulling your apron off and throwing it at his face. “I quit!”

Your boss threw a string of profanities to your head as you opened the cash register and grasped the amount of money he still owed you. He was too slow, and too fat, to stop you and before he could get to you, you were already halfway out the door. Though ofcourse, you didn’t leave without theatrically flipping him off.

You ran down the street, squirming your way through the crowd, and into a phone booth. Closing the door behind you, you fished the coaster out of your pocket and rang the number. You were connected to Elvis’ hotel and then put through to his room after several minutes. As soon as you heard his voice on the other side of the line, you inhaled a sharp breath of air and clenched the phone against your ear.

How bad could the porn industry really be?

The fact that you were a virgin didn’t strike you as a problem. Nobody had to know, did they? You were sure you’d be able to mask it.

Even from the director.

You stared at the people walking by the phone booth and leaned against the glass wall, your next words rolling off your tongue determinedly.

“When do I start?”

taglist: @powerofelvis @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @ccab @whatstruthgottodowithit @dkayfixates

#elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #elvis au #elvis presley au #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis #elvis presley #elvis series #elvis presley series #tamwrites #the curious female

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khagihan2000 · 5 months

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-Things that we enjoyed @intro-v Song: Super Trouper - ABBA List of comprehensible films, and shows (I think forgot something when edit, my braincells...): - Entergalactic - Sing 2 - Arcane - Infinity Train - I Lost My Body - Legend of Vox Machina - Central Park - Kipo Oak and The Age of Wonderbeast - Archer - Harriet the Spy - Hit-Monkey - The House - The Second Best Hospital in the Galaxy - Carmen Sandiego - Invincible - Mortal Kombats Legend - Inside Job - Young Justice - Seis Manos - Pantheon - Golgo 13 - Giant Robo - Getter Robo Arc - Redline - I Lost My Body - Nomad of Nowhere - Villainous - Scott Pilgrim Take Off - Twelve Forever - My Adventure with Superman - Dead End - Black Dynamite - Arlo the Alligator Boy - JJBA: Stone Ocean - X Men'97 - Captain Laserhawk - Ramshackle - Aggretsuko - Lastman - Pluto - Ballmastrz 9009 - The Ghost and Molly McGee - Hailey On It - Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur - The World Can't Tear Me Down - Tales of Alethrion - Dog In Space - Hilda - Smiling Friends - Cyberpunk Edgerunner - Trick Moon - Centaurworld - Emesis Blue - Hit Monkey - Harley Quinn - Invincible - Green Eggs and Ham: The Second Serving - Sonic Mania Adventures - OK KO - ROTMNT - Glitchtechs - Cupheads - Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse - Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse - Legend of Vox Machina - Love Death + Robot - Amphibia - The Owl House - Regular Show - Close Enough - Futurama - Agent Elvis - Helluva Boss - Hazbin Hotel - Mystery Skulls - Nimona - Wolfwalker - The Amazing Digital Circus - Lackadaisy - Murder Drones - Bees and Puppycat - Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake - Super Mario Bros - Bad Guys - Beastar - Ramshackle - GiTS - Ranking of King - Odd Taxi - The Summit of God - Wolfboy - Big City Greens - Gumball - Metalocalypse - Venture Bros - Sonic Prime - Sonic X - Paprika - Castlevania - Castlevania Nocture - Blue Eyed Samurai - Star Trek Lower Deck - Final Space - Cleopatra in Space - Undone - City Hunter - Lupin the First - Lupin Zero - Lupin X Cat Eyes - Craig of the Creeks - Summer Camp Island - Primal - Scavenger Reign - Bob's Burger - Kid Cosmic - Unicorn: Warrior Eternals

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austinswife · 7 days

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GIFs SET 1

AUSTIN BUTLER as ELVIS PRESLEY in ELVIS (2022)

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler imagines #austin butler blurb #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fluff #austin butler series #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler gif #austin elvis imagine #austin elvis presley #austin butler fanfiction #austin as elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis presley 2022 #austin elvis presley 2022

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foreverdolly · 2 years

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𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐩𝐭 𝟑| 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: you absolutely can't stand your boss. after one bad run in with him, you decide that he's office enemy number one. so when your mother breaks the news that your ex boyfriend is bringing his new fiancé to your sister's wedding as his plus one, you lie and tell her you'll be bringing your very own boyfriend along with you to greece. the problem? you don't actually have a boyfriend. so when austin butler, your arch nemesis of a boss, offers to be your fake boyfriend, you have to take him up on it. greece is a beautiful place to fall in love, no?

pairings: boss!austin butler x reader

word count: 6k

warnings/notes: !SMUT IN NEXT CHAPTER! this chapter does mention nonconsensual drug usage, so be warned! austin is a bad ass in this chapter. . . and even hotter than usual, i swear. there's just something so sexy about a protective man, ya'll.

↰ previous part | next part ↱

“No, no- I can tell.” Emily’s lips brushed against your ear as she leaned forward, the music pounding from the countless overhead speakers. You could feel the techno beat in your chest, and it was hard to differentiate between the music and your own racing pulse. The dance floor was absolutely packed with bodies, all pressed together, swaying along to the beat. You were having a hard time remembering which club this was or when you had gotten there. Your sister had wanted to go bar hopping, so her maid of honor had reserved a table at a couple of the more popular joints in the city.

You looked down at the drink in your hand, shaking it sadly once you realized all that remained of it was ice. How many drinks have you had? What did you and the rest of the wedding party eat for dinner? It was like you had finally pulled your head out of the drunken haze and grounded yourself.

“Um. . . What exactly-”

“I see the way he looks at you and the way you look at him. I know you’re over Alex.” Your sister was slurring her words, but she seemed competent enough.

Your older sister was a tad bit taller than you, but always has had the tolerance of a sixty year old Irishman- who just so happened to also be a sailor. She could drink anyone under the table. Emily was the type of person that wanted to take shots before choosing to nurse a drink. There was no such thing as “working your way up to it” whilst in her presence. Slowly you turned back around to look at the dance floor, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head as you watched Stephanie, Emily’s childhood best friend, climb up onto the bar. Emily cheered loudly from her spot at the table, and you watched with a slack jaw as she began dancing drunkenly. You had half the mind to get your phone out of your purse, but you didn’t want to embarrass her later. She was a pediatric nurse, and you doubted she’d look back on this night too fondly tomorrow morning.

“Wait. . . why are we talking about Alex?” You were confused as to how you both got on the topic. To be completely honest, even the thought of the man panicked you. No matter how many years passed, you would never forget how Alex had traumatized you. It wasn’t that you wanted to get back with him, rather it was the countless complexes he had triggered. He had broken you into a million little pieces and left you like that for the next person to try and put you back together.

Austin.

What had you been blabbering about? Had you let something slip? Surely you hadn’t “spilled the beans” about the fact that you and Austin were just colleagues. You weren’t that drunk. You slapped your palms down onto the table, watching your sister intently as she pumped her fists into the air, showing Stephanie’s drunken display support. You needed to get her attention. You needed to know whether or not you’d somehow fucked up massively tonight.

“E-Em!” You called out to her anxiously. She faced you, glossy lips parted.

“Somebody just sobered up,” She shot you a knowing smile before taking a gulp of her brightly colored beverage. “I was just checking up on you. I know that seeing Alex after so long was probably really upsetting, but you told me that you were completely over him. And hey! I definitely don’t blame you. I mean. . . just look at him and Austin. There’s no comparison.”

She was right. Alex looked like someone had tried to draw Ryan Reynolds from memory.

Blindfolded.

And drunk.

Austin was a work of art. You tried to beat off the butterflies, but they continued fluttering away in your chest as you came to the realization that later tonight the two of you would see each other again.

Sleep next to each other again.

Ah, now the butterflies had turned into slight nausea. You scooped an ice cube out of your drink and popped it into your mouth, thankful for anything that might help with your current case of dry mouth.

“It’s not just his looks though, Emily.” You reminded her.

She seemed to be on a tangent though, her eyebrows furrowed as she recalled how much she disliked her soon to be brother-in-law. “I mean. . . He must have felt like absolute shit when he walked in and saw Austin all over you. He probably cried himself to sleep that night.”

You weren’t self righteous enough to be opposed to shit talking. At least, not about people who deserved it. You let out a loud laugh, nearly choking on the ice cube as you pressed your face into your sister’s neck. She laughed right along with you, giving a small shrug that you felt.

“I mean- come on! His fiance is nice, but she’s nowhere near as hot as you either. It’s sad! I almost feel bad for the guy. You and Austin look like supermodels standing next to each other,” She saw the incredulous look you gave her and gave your back a supportive pat. “I’m being serious.”

It was sad that you really couldn’t be upfront with Emily about your newfound feelings. You could really use some sisterly advice right about now. She thought that the two of you had been together for over six months, when in reality you two had spent an entire year tossing insults at one another.

You understood where she was coming from. Austin was beautiful, but that wasn’t the best part. Austin was a surprisingly sensitive person who genuinely seemed to care about you and your feelings. He was intune with your emotions, and never tried to pry information out of you. Because let’s face it, you weren’t the type of person that was upfront with their feelings. You had been hurt so many times in the past that you found it hard to express yourself in fear of rejection. Austin had patience, and he didn’t look at you like you were some kind of a project.

You weren’t someone that he could fix. You were just you.

And he. . . he was just Austin. Nerdy, infuriatingly perfect, socially awkward, and surprisingly protective Austin Butler.

You stood up abruptly, making your sister blink up at you in surprise. “Are you gonna throw up? Need me to come with you?”

You shook your head, reaching down for your purse so that you could grab your phone. “I just want to go outside and check on Sophia.” You’d texted back and forth a little once you had first landed in Greece, but you hadn’t filled her in on any of the details. You needed someone to talk to. Now. Or else you were positive that you’d explode. Emily’s eyebrows furrowed, but she shooed you off regardless, standing up herself so that she could join her friends.

“I’m gonna grab another drink. We’ll be on the dance floor, alright?” She called out to you once you were on your way towards the front door.

Pushing through the tightly packed crowd of people reminded you of why you didn’t party anymore. There was a period of time in your early twenties where you went out constantly with your friends. That toxic cycle repeated itself directly after your big break up as well. You were at a different bar every weekend, drowning your sorrows in alcohol and meaningless sexual escapades that you regretted immediately after. Adulthood was growing out of all of that. You’d much rather stay the night at Sophia’s house so that the two of you could get wine drunk while watching reruns of Vampire Diaries.

You gulped down the cool night air, pressing your back tightly against the cool brick building, your eyes flickering up and down the street to make sure that no one you knew was in sight before hitting the “call” button. You’d have no one to blame but yourself if anyone overheard you talking about the complexities of your own lies. The familiar voice picked up on the second ring, seemingly out of breath from running from her cubicle and into the stairwell. You could hear the familiar echo as she hurriedly spoke into the phone.

“You haven’t called me since you got there. What’s going on?” Sophia’s voice was rushed and slightly out of breath, though she was keeping her voice as low as she possibly could.

For a second all you could do was stand there, licking your lips as you tried to wrack your brain for some sort of response. How in the holy hell were you supposed to fill her in on everything that happened? You worried your bottom lip between your teeth before finally deciding to spill your guts.

“I think Austin and I are officially dating, but I’m not certain.” There was silence on the other end, and if it wasn’t for the heavy breathing, you would have thought that she might have accidentally hung up on you.

“I-I think I must have missed a couple of chapters here. What in the ever loving fuck has happened in the last twenty four hours, babe?”

After making sure that the coast was clear once again, you told your friend the entire story, being sure not to leave any details out. You started off with the confusing plane ride, the awkward lunch with your parents, and then the goddamn dinner where the two of you kissed. Sophia kept quiet, save for a couple of gasps and squeals of excitement.

“A-And now I’m at this club with my sister, drunk off of my ass, and all I want to do is see him.”

“I knew this was going to happen.” She said smugly, the shock of the statement nearly putting you on your ass. You stumbled forward, the heels of your boot catching on one of the uneven stones on the street. You were quick to throw your arm out, placing your hand against the brick building so that you wouldn’t fall forward onto your face.

“What do you mean?” You gawked, trying to make room for other patrons of the club who stepped outside for some fresh air and a cigarette. One handsome man with stubble and kind brown eyes gestured his own pack of smokes towards you, which you swiftly denied with a kind smile.

“I mean. . .” Sophie trailed off before cursing softly under her breath. “For the love of all things holy- there is no way you couldn’t see this coming. I’ve been telling you for the past six months that he has to like you. It took the poor man telling you point blank “I like you” for you to finally realize? There’s been rumors about you two dating ever since he first started working at the office.”

You had detested Austin for the better part of six months. Never once had you read too far into anyone else’s little comments about the nature of your relationship with the boss. If anything, you thought that it was a way for them to poke fun at you, Sophie included. Now it was as if someone had pulled the wool from your eyes, the truth laid bare in front of you.

Austin Butler, your boss, has had a thing for you this entire time. You were just too stubborn and blinded by your own personal vendetta to see it. You felt like an idiot.

“I mean. . . should I call him? Maybe I should-”

“Tourist?” You blinked up at the man speaking to you, eyebrows knit together in confusion as you realized that it was the same guy that had offered you cigarettes just a minute ago. You were in the middle of having a mental breakdown and didn’t appreciate the interruption.

“Hey, who is that talking to you?” Sophie whispered on the other end of the line.

“Some guy at the club. Hold on one second.” You whispered into the phone before pivoting to fully face him.

He wasn’t bad looking. If anything he was a very conventionally attractive male. Someone you definitely would have loved to talk to normally- however nothing was normal anymore. Austin must have ruined you, because the very handsome man in front of you appeared to be average at best now. You weren’t about to ruin your shot at happiness by chatting him up, so you were quick to cross the arm that wasn’t holding your cell to your ear against your chest, closing off your body language.

I’m not interested.

“I’m not a tourist, no. My parents live here.” You weren’t about to let the man know that you were largely unfamiliar with the area you were in. You had seen enough episodes of Forensic Files and Dateline to know better. You said a silent ‘thank you’ to Chris Hansen before narrowing your eyes at him.

You were many things, but you weren’t gullible. You lived in New York City for heaven’s sake. There were few things in life that you trusted less than a man, and the predatory glint in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you. Taking a few steps back so that you could flatten yourself against the brick wall of the club, you tried your best to put even more distance between your two bodies. After a few seconds he appeared to give up, flashing you a small smile before disappearing back into the building. You let out a small aggravated huff before pressing the phone back to your ear.

“Anyway- I’ll just call you tomorrow, alright? I know you’re at work.” After a mumbled ‘I love you’ and a whispered ‘goodluck’ on her part, you hung up the phone.

Being out in the open like this was slightly terrifying. You were used to living in the city, and rule number one of being a girl was to never allow yourself to be alone like this. Anyone could snatch you, and you weren’t about to become yet another statistic. The constant pulsing of the music vibrated in your ears as you pushed past the hot, sweaty bodies that crowded the dancefloor. A few women tried to grab at your clothes, urging you to dance with them, while men simply smiled or nodded in your direction. An idiot’s mating call.

You continued off in the direction of your sister, seeing her warm, drunken smile beaming at you from across the club. You shot her a small wave before pointing a thumb towards the bar. You needed another drink. Gone were the days of being a habitual drinker. You were freshly twenty-one, finally able to go out with your friends and party until dawn. That was back when you were still with Alex, and though he sullied a lot of memories that should have been joyous during your youth (purely because he was a part of them), you didn’t let him ruin the memories of those nights. Sloppily singing karaoke with your college roommate until dawn and falling asleep with her on the couch while watching reruns of “I Love Lucy”.

New York, despite the unending stretch of niche bars and taverns, didn’t inspire a need to drink in you. You’d gotten too old for partying by the time that you had moved out of your hometown.

You’d mellowed out in your mid twenties, which was a feat that you were proud of. Tonight, however, you were planning on getting absolutely shit faced. You tried to convince yourself that it was to celebrate your sister’s wedding, but you knew deep down that you needed to numb yourself from the confusion that the last two days had brought you. It was also to dull the longing ache in your chest. You missed Austin.

Missed him and his stupid wavy blonde hair and big blue eyes. Missed his small smiles and sarcastic jilts.

Oh, how the tables had turned on you over these last two days. To think- just last week you had nearly clawed your eyes out over the fact that you had to sit beside him during one of the monthly meetings that Jeff held. Back then you had seen the glances that he snuck at you as judgemental, but now you saw them for what they really were.

A man that had a crush on a woman that he worked in very close quarters with.

“Can I just get a tequila sunrise?” It wasn’t your normal drink of choice, but the cocktail menu at that specific club was tiny. You weren’t exactly in the mood to be picky either.

The pretty bartender merely nodded her head, asking for the name that your tab was under before skillfully mixing your drink. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the man that had approached you outside making his own way to the bar. His arm brushed against yours as he squeezed through the small gap in the crowd. You grimaced, moving your arm closer into your side before grabbing your drink. You turned your head in the direction of your sister, but froze as he smiled at you one last time.

“I promise I’m not following you. Just grabbing a beer- you have a good night.” He told you gently, flashing the beer as if to prove it.

You instantly felt guilty for your behavior, realizing that he must have seen the way you recoiled from him. He probably just found you pretty and wanted to try his luck. It wasn’t uncommon to bump into the same people multiple times, especially if you’re spending hours in the same building. Maybe the city had ruined you. Maybe you were just overreacting. You nodded stiffly, flashing him a small smile of your own.

“Thank you. You too.” And then you were off in the direction of your sister.

The next few minutes were a blur. You remembered taking three sips of the drink, just listening to your sister and her maid of honor talk about the honeymoon. The world felt like it was tipping out from underneath you. You tried your damndest to listen to what the two girls were saying, you were too preoccupied with what was happening to your body. Did you just have a horrible case of the spins?

No. . . you’d been pacing yourself all night. That couldn’t be right. Sure, you hadn’t drank to this degree in a couple of months, but you knew your limits. This certainly wasn’t your first rodeo.

“What do you think? Your outfits are always adorable, so I care about your opinion.” Your sister turned to face you, beaming widely.

“I liked the red shoes you sent me a picture of,” You had to force the words out of your mouth. It felt like you were wading through water, your eyes becoming heavy lidded. “Matches better with the dress.”

You placed a steadying hand on the table in front of you, eyes wide when you realized that something wasn’t right.

“. . . Honey? Are you okay? Hey- sis. . . look at me,” Your sister grabbed your cheeks in her hand, marveling at your flushed cheeks and panicked eyes. “What’s wrong?”

It sounded like Emily was miles away despite the fact that she was now pressed right up against you, pushing your hair back and off of your face to get a better look at you. The lights were too bright, the music was too loud, and you couldn’t speak. Your tongue felt thick and numb in your mouth.

You opened and closed your mouth a few times before shaking your head. Your sister knew you well enough to understand that whatever was happening to you. . . it was bad.

Emily reached into your purse, riffling through it to find your phone.

“I’m going to call Austin to come get you, okay? Just hang on, girl. Do you need to puke?” She looked through your texts, clicking on the number saved under the name “Austin Mc-jackass” and putting the phone up to her ear. Thankfully she was too nervous to ask about the nickname.

You groaned softly, your head lolling back onto the plush pleather booth.

“Austin? Hey- it’s Emily. We’ve got a bit of a problem.”

“What all has she had to drink?” He questioned quickly, sliding into the booth so that he could wrap an arm around your slumping shoulders, pressing your body against his.

The way that you were entirely limp in his arms was a huge red flag, and it had his heart leaping to his throat. He’d drunk enough in his college years to know that this wasn’t normal behavior, even if you had pushed past your limits. Emily’s eyes were wide with concern as she tried to recall every drink that she’d seen in your hand over the course of the night. Sure, you couldn’t drink as much as she could, but just ten minutes ago the two of you had been deep in conversation. You were perfectly coherent before this last drink of yours.

“Two mixed drinks and three shots. That’s no-”

“Nowhere near enough to have her acting like this,” Austin finished for her, nodding his head in swift agreement before turning his head to face you. “It’s got to be something else then.”

You could barely keep your eyes open, and your head kept lolling forward. His heart was racing a mile a minute, and before he could stop himself he placed a warm, comforting kiss against the bridge of your nose, and mumbling a quick “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner” against your temple. He needed to stay calm and try not to think the worst.

“Did you see her take anything?” Austin knew that you weren’t the sort of person that would do heavy drugs, not even on a night out in a foreign city. He tried to recall if he’d seen any medications in your travel bag that might be dangerous to mix with alcohol, but came up blank. He’d never seen you take anything at work before either, aside for some antibiotics a few months ago when you had gotten sick. He felt a little bit stalkerish for remembering something as trivial as that, though he supposed it would be useful eventually.

Emily was quick to shake her head, eyebrows furrowing. “She wouldn’t have taken anything. You know her- she’s a control freak. Party drugs aren’t her thing.” The blonde could tell that your sister was trying hard to sober up to better take care of you, and was growing frustrated with herself as her words came out slurred.

Austin attempted to shoot her a small smile, one that felt incredibly fake given his internal panic, when something on the table caught his eye. A half empty drink was on the table in front of you, the ice not melted even in the slightest- it couldn’t be more than twenty minutes old.

“When did she get this drink?” He asked, pointing at it.

Emily turned her own focus to the drink, looking over Austin’s shoulder towards the bar. She pointed towards the female bartender who was currently taking care of a large crowd of patrons.

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

Austin nodded. “And when did she start acting like this?”

Emily’s eyes widened as she finally realized what Austin had been thinking all along. Despite her drunkenness she was still quick to put two and two together. The music continued to pound away at the speakers. Someone popped a bottle of champagne in the booth beside them, and Austin grit his teeth in annoyance as the group of friends cheered. He detested places like this. He slipped the glasses from off of his head, placing it down on the table before reaching for the drink.

He brought it up to his nose, sniffing the liquid to see if anything smelled out of place. It was one of those sugary, flavored cocktails that he found absolutely repugnant. It smelled like pineapples, tequila and. . . something chemically.

Something that sure as hell didn’t belong in a tequila sunrise.

He set the glass down on the table with enough force to have the liquid spilling over his hand, his blue eyes burning with rage.

“She’s been drugged,” He was shaking now, his arm tightening around your body as you tried hard to say something. You were mumbling, forcing your eyes open so that you could try and talk to them. You knew that they needed to know who had done it, and you had a pretty good idea, but the words weren’t coming out.

Everything looked blurry, and you forgot what you were trying to say the second that you opened your mouth. Austin, underneath all of that anger, was terrified for you as you continued to babble. He couldn’t remember a time in his life where he had felt this level of panic. He was shaking as he clung to you, long fingers tangling into the fabric of your shirt.

“Who was it, baby? Tell me who you think did this.” He was patient with you, holding the back of your neck so that you could look up at him.

You couldn’t even hold the weight of your own head. You felt pathetic.

“Blue shirt,” He was having to pick out certain words, almost as though he was listening to a toddler speak. “Brunette.” That was just about everyone in this place. He began searching the area, picking out certain brunette men wearing blue shirts on the packed dance floor that might look a bit sleazier than others.

None of them caught Austin’s eye- not until one of them turned around, looking directly at you. It was obvious that he wasn’t people-watching either, knowing exactly where you were sitting so that he could stare. Meaning- he’d had his eye on you throughout the night and knew where your booth was. Austin, without tearing his eyes off of the man, ushered Emily closer.

“You wrap her arms around her and keep her sitting up. If anyone comes up to talk to you two, even if they work here, turn them away. Alright?”

Only once he felt your sister’s arm weaseling past his around your waist did he let go of you, standing up from the booth and making his way down the steps. He wanted to beat the man to a pulp and leave it at that. Toss him out into some back alley so that his friends could find him later in the light of day, but that didn’t seem like enough. Austin used to be that kind of guy. The kind of guy that resorted to violence the second that someone even looked at him wrong. The death of his mother had mellowed him out though. Changed him. Beating the creep up would feel really good, but it wouldn’t help in the long run.

He was sure that the local police wouldn’t take kindly to men slipping unsuspecting tourists daterape drugs. He could threaten the asshole’s life later. Right now he had to jump into action. You were still incapacitated at the booth, and he doubted that Emily was strong enough to fight off a man. He could still try and drag you outside and to whatever car he had no doubt waiting for him.

Over Austin’s dead body.

He didn’t doubt that this wasn’t the guy’s first time doing something like this. Austin was there to protect you, but most girls didn’t have that. Something needed to be done.

He was quick to push past people in line at the bar, not bothering to mumble apologies before leaning over, ushering over the female bartender. She started to glare at him, thinking he was just some impatient asshole cutting in line, but the hard look on her face fell once she saw his anger. His urgency.

“Someone just slipped rohypnol into my girlfriend's drink at your bar,” The girl’s tanned complexion paled, the glitter on her face catching the overhead neon lights as she looked around the handsome blonde towards the booths.

She must have seen you because she quickly grabbed his hand, pulling him around the bar and towards a small door with a large sign that said “staff only”. The music quieted as the heavy door shut behind them. She dropped his hand so that she could jog towards a group of men who were sitting in a far corner. Austin appreciated how quickly she was acting on this.

The men were sitting in front of a few computer monitors, speaking lowly to one another in a language that Austin didn’t understand.

The girl’s accent was thick as she breathily called their names.

“A girl was drugged at the bar. I need you to call the cops and check the cameras.” Before they could ask where it had happened, she added to the story. “I’m the one that served her.”

Austin thanked the bartender before pointing towards the door. “She’s with her sister, and I don’t want to leave them alone. I’m going to get her home, but I’ll give you my cellphone number if the officers need some sort of statement from us.” And after jotting down his information on a sticky note the man began to hurriedly make his way back into the heart of the club.

The blonde had helped to pay his way through college working in bars back home in California. Most of the time he worked the door and security given his tall stature, and thankfully he’d only seen something like this happen a handful of times during those years. Still, he knew that it was a far more common occurrence than most people would expect. His eyes scanned the dark room skillfully, trying to find the face of the man that he suspected. After just a few seconds he realized that he was no longer inside, having tucked his tail between his legs and ran the second that he noticed Austin was probably getting help. Turning on the heels of his boots Austin jogged his way to the door, pushing past other club goers to peek his head outside.

There, in the distance, was the man in the blue shirt. He wasn’t alone- there was one other guy who was so small that he could probably still be in his teens walking alongside him. He didn’t dare call out to them, not wanting to give them the opportunity to run. Instead Austin clung to the darkened stoops of the local shops, his arms swinging beside him as he ran. Maybe it was the fact that he had been stuck with Alex all day that had him rearing for a fight. The man-child had been taking little jabs at him all night, and Austin was smart enough to know that he was being baited. He was being backed into a corner, and the second that he snapped?

Well he’d look like the asshole territorial boyfriend.

He hadn’t deluded himself into thinking that he was here for any other reason aside from playing the part of a doting new beau, and the last thing he wanted to do was make himself look bad in fear that it would fall back on you somehow. He was here to make you look good, not like you were being held hostage.

“Hey,” Austin grabbed the back of the man’s shirt, watching as the male whipped around to face him. The small male that he was with froze, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. “So you think it’s cool to drug a girl’s drink?”

The brunette bristled, sizing Austin up before turning his chin up. Recognition flashed in his eyes, having seen Austin taking care of you at the booth just a few minutes ago before trying to find help.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The male tried, taking a step back to free himself from Austin’s grip.

The tall blonde didn’t relent, instead tightening his hold on the cotton fabric.

“I knew that you had to be fucking stupid to try something like that, but there’s no way you’re this dumb. She pointed you out to me- and we have you on camera slipping the drug into her drink. Are you ready to confess now or did you just want to make yourself look like an even bigger asshole?” The brunette’s olive skin paled.

Sure, Austin hadn’t actually seen the footage yet, but the other male’s reaction told him everything that he needed to know. His assumption had been correct. He tried not to imagine exactly what he would have done with you if you hadn’t been there with an entire group, because Austin wasn’t sure whether or not he would be able to keep his calm. He had to remind himself that you were safe and with him now. He had to settle the icy rage that was threatening to overcome his rational mind.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Austin spoke through clenched teeth, tugging him closer to him. “You’re coming with me and waiting for the cops.”

Now that they were practically nose to nose, the height and size difference was beginning to settle in for the bastard. Despite that, he still tried to wrench himself out of Austin’s grip.

At the mere mention of police, the smaller of the two ran off into the night, disappearing around a building. He wasn’t the one that really mattered though.

The more that he struggled, the looser Austin’s grip became. Austin could feel the shirt beginning to rip, and let go only to slide his arm up and around the man’s throat, using his other hand to hold his wrist in place. The perpetrator bucked and kicked- even clawed at Austin’s arms- which only made him tighten his grip even harder.

“If I have to drag your unconscious body back over towards that club, I fucking will. It’ll be embarrassing for you, bud.” He spoke into the guy's ear, already hearing a crowd beginning to gather around them.

Two bouncers from the club broke through the crowd, calling out to Austin to hand him over to them. That the cops were going to be there soon. He could hear the sirens somewhere in the city, getting closer and closer by the second. Austin only loosened his grip when he felt a hand on his shoulder. With a great amount of self restraint he let go, taking a few steps back from the man.

Austin could easily take advantage of the perpetrators weakened state, what with his hands being braced on his knees as he gasped for breath, but the blonde merely took a few deep breaths and made his way back in the direction of the club. He could have beaten the fucker up. He could have had his fun with the guy until the cops showed up, but the thought of you being scared and on the verge of losing consciousness made him walk back into the club in search of you.

He felt like everything would be okay the second he saw you again. The second that he had you back in his arms everything would be okay. You settled his storms, calmed his nerves and made life feel good again.

That’s just how love works.

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 @18lkpeters @memphis-mania @rjmartin11 @artlover8992

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

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smnthchrstn · 7 months

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Elvis Presley | being Lisa-Marie's daddy | Valentine's Day Series 16/20

I'm gonna watch you shine Gonna watch you grow Gonna paint a sign So you'll always know As long as one and one is two There could never be a father loved his daughter More than I love you (x)

#my moodboard #elvis presley #lisa marie presley #valentine's day series 2024

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ranaissingle · 2 years

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Right Here

Masterlist

Summary: The reader and Austin spend a day at home when the Oscar nominations come out and the reader comforts an insecure Austin the day before. Rating: T (it is straight fluff and I eat that shit up) Pairings: Austin x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.8k A/N: I haven't posted in like a week bc I couldn't find inspiration but I need more soft Austin content to think about so this is what you guys get instead of Coffee or Tea Pt. 5 lol (Which is the last part by the way and I am currently suffering from writer's block so I'm doing this to distract myself. ) Reader has almost no body descriptors like race, body parts, weight, etc.

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Austin had been counting the days until the Oscar nominations and had run himself ragged in the process. He googled when they would be released at least 4 times a day and consulted his manager about the likelihood of his nomination in the time between. As much as Austin tried to convince himself he didn't care, he hadn't fooled anyone; not even himself.

You were content to watch him at first and assumed it was a natural part of being an actor; you weren't sure what you could do to ease his stress, to begin with. But after the dreaded day drew nearer, Austin's anxiety had shot through the roof and multiplied tenfold. You couldn't bare to watch him wallow in his own misery or stress himself out any longer. So the afternoon before the Oscar nominations were to come out and Austin's anxiety was at an all-time high, you would make your move.

You had planned a delicious at-home dinner followed by a movie and a relaxing day in bed. You had prepared a delicious bolognese sauce with mini bowtie pasta (Austin's favorite) accompanied by a tasty fruit cake for dessert.

You had really outdone yourself.

Austin was due to come back from the day's interview at 6:45 which was perfect for dinner at 7.

You had just finished lighting the dinner candles and switching off the lights when Austin tumbled into the door looking worn out and stressed to high heaven.

You walked up to the door to take his coat and kiss his cheek.

"Welcome home love, how was work?" This had become a routine; Austin would tumble in, you would take his coat, kiss his cheek, and then ask how his day was. That routine was one of Austin's few consistencies in his hectic life and he looked forward to your soft smile and breathy voice during his entire commute home.

"It was alright darlin' how was yours?", he placed his hand on your waist and drew you closer.Just as Austin finished his question to you, it seemed he noticed the lack of fluorescent lighting in the apartment.

"What's up with all the lights not being o-" He set his eyes on the dinner table set with the best dishware and china, the long thin candles lit in the middle, and the unopened bottle of red wine occupying the end of the table.

"You've been so stressed lately and it's taking a toll on your health," you reached up to place your hand on his cheek and swiped your thumb over the discolored skin under his eyes.

"I'm worried about you is all, so I made us dinner and I have a movie qued for us to watch after." Austin gradually wrapped his arms tighter and tighter as you spoke. Eventually, his head landed in your neck and you felt his breaths tickling your clavicle.

"Thank ya darlin' I love ya so much, ya know that?" His voice was ragged. Austin loved being taken care of, but he wouldn't tell anyone that and you loved taking care of him. It was a win-win situation.

You pulled your face away from him to grasp his hands in yours and lead him to the table.

"Darlin this smells delicious, did ya make pasta?"

"Just how you like it, my love." Austin's smile was breathtaking and he looked more alive in that moment than he had in the 2 weeks before.

Austin pulled out your chair before walking around to the table to pull out his own. He tried the pasta and all but moaned in approval.

"Darlin' this is amazing! I swear you cook this better each time." You were glad the hours spent over the stove reducing the sauce with spices and herbs had the desired effect.

"I'm glad you like it Austin! I called up my mom to get some better tips for making a meat sauce. I'm glad the work paid off." You giggled as Austin continued to shovel spoon after spoon of the delicious pasta into his mouth.

Dinner went by pleasantly with both of you conversing about whatever came to mind. Both your legs were intertwined under the table and Austin fidgeted with your hand where it rested on the table.

You both made it through the main course accompanied by the wine and when it came time for dessert, Austin decided he wanted to spoon-feed you the fruit cake as a 'thank you' for all the hard work you had put in to prepare a delicious meal for him.

Austin had been drained and tired for what felt like an eternity but it seems an afternoon with you and a home-cooked meal was all he needed to recover.

Austin had asked you three times to let him help you with the dishes but you had profusely refused and all but shoved him into your bedroom as you told him to relax and kissed his forehead.

"I can take care of the dishes myself and I'll just be putting them in the dishwasher anyway." You waved your hand to emphasize how light the work would be.

Austin frowned but eventually let out an "Alright darling whatever you say." accompanied by a heavy sigh and a 'thank you' kiss on your temple.

You did the dishes in record time because you wanted to spend some time with Austin before his eventual crash. He wasn't going to last through the whole movie as was evident by his eye bags and already drooping eyelids.

You crossed the living room and opened the door to your shared bedroom. Austin had changed into his pajamas and was tucked under the covers while he read one of his mystery novels.

"Hey, baby," you spoke as you entered the room and Austin perked up, "I was thinking, we can still watch the movie if you want but you're looking a little tired and I don't want to keep you up, especially when you need all the rest you can get. So, what do you choose?"

"Could we just cuddle and go to sleep? I am feelin' pretty tired." He tilted his head in the most endearing way as he asked and you were happy to satisfy his request.

You crawled into the bed and opened the blanket and your arms to invite Austin into a hug. His smile was breathtaking as he practically threw his book onto the nightstand and shimmied under the sheets to get closer to you.

His head found purchase in your neck yet again and his arms wrapped around you to hold your hips in his embrace. You settled one hand on his back to rub circled on his spine while the other raked its way through his soft locks. You knelt your head down to whisper how proud you were of him, how much you loved him, and how he had nothing to worry about because he was guaranteed an oscar nomination tomorrow. He kissed your necks over and over as you spoke and only buried himself further into your form when you finished speaking.

The dim street lights reflecting into the room and the lavender diffuser you had on at all times calmed Austin. He eventually relaxed in your embrace and spoke a mumbled "I love you" before finally nodding off.

"I love you more."

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

The sunlight streamed in through the half-drawn curtains and illuminated the room with a soft and warm light. The both of you were still fast asleep in the position you had slept in the night before; although Austin seemed to be nestled impossibly closer to you. He had fallen asleep in record time and had not woken up in a cold sweat once during the entire night. His dreams were filled with mundane days spent at home and your smile took center stage in his every thought.

Alas, although you and Austin had both forgotten what day today was, his manager had not been so lucky. The Oscar nominations had been released in the early morning and you both had slept ever soundly through it. Taylor, Austin's manager, had been awake at the crack of dawn refreshing her inbox and the official oscar website. As soon as the nominations dropped, she picked up her cell to call Austin. It took her 4 attempts before your sleep-ridden voice made its way into her receiver.

You picked the phone up to your ear and mumbled a broken

"Hello?"

" OH MY GOD THANK GOODNESS SOMEONE ANSWERED. AUSTIN GOT THE NOMINATION!" Her voice blared into your ear making you wince and pull the phone away from your face.

"What??? Are you serious Taylor??!!" You tried to keep your voice soft so as to not wake Austin before you confirmed the news.

"YES, THE NOMINATIONS WERE RELEASED A FEW MINUTES AGO!"

"Okay, I'll tell Austin! He is still asleep so I'll have to wake him up." Said man was still tucked into your neck but had begun to stir.

"Pleeeeeease do, he has been waiting for this nomination for so long and you and I both know he deserves it."

"I know Taylor, thank you for calling so many times it would have been a shame if we missed this."

After ending the phone call, you put the phone down and wrapped your arms back around Austin while leaning your mouth into his ear and running your hand down his back.

"Austin baby, you have to wake up love. We can't sleep in any longer." Austin stirred but did not fully wake up. You stroked his back again before using your words to coax him up into the world of the awake.

Austin's facelifted slowly out of your neck to turn to where the light was streaming into the room and he placed his head over your heart while he slowly woke up.

"Austin, Taylor just called." You felt him tense his arms around you as he braced himself for the bad news. You just wrapped your arms tighter around him and whispered, so softly he barely heard you at all

"You did it, my love, you got nominated for best actor by the Oscars. Out of so many actors, they chose you! I'm so proud of you Austin, you worked so hard and you did it, baby. You did it, my love."

Austin's choked sobs were palpable in the room.

"I did it? A-are you serious? I actually got nominated?" He had picked his head up from your chest and sat up to look at you.

Taking his face in between both your hands you gazed into his eyes.

"Yes, you did Austin. Believe it and live it because you deserve it. All your hard work has paid off and I will always be right here for you, for as long as you'll have me."

Austin's teary eyes and blissful smile made your heart flutter in a way you never knew was possible.

Never in your life had you loved someone like you loved Austin.

⚛》》»»»◈«««《《⚛⚛》》»»»◈«««《《⚛⚛》》»»»◈««

This got very sappy very fast but I can't say that I'm mad at it. I also think that Austin probably needs a lot of assurance right now just like the rest of us. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

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starryschoolgirl · 11 months

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A Soldier's Song Masterlist

You couldn't be more grateful when your husband returns home, and while he insists that he's alright and just wants things to get back to normal, you can't help but notice the changes of war on your man. You soon come to realize that just because the scars on his body have long faded, doesn't mean the scars in his mind are healed the same.

Warning: This universe series explores struggles with religion, violence of war, death, mental health, and family issues, it will also feature heavy smut that may fence along the line of dubious at times, and more to come that I will throw back in here when the time is right.

PSA: Set in the 40s. This is all from 2nd person point of view (you/your type reading), but the name used instead of y/n will be Genevieve Presley. Truthfully I don't plan to write it all in order I'm just exploring right now.

A Soldier's Song Installments Circa 1942 November: Just A Man More to come!

#elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x reader #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis x you #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x you #elvis au #elvis series #elvis fic #elvis fandom

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chainlink32 · 3 months

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Some doodle requests I got from Insta

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dre6ming · 1 year

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TDBR - the Oscars

TDBR series

Masterlist

TDBR imagines Masterlist - short stories

Instagram photo dump masterlist

To be added to my tag list click HERE

Pairing: Austin Butler x singer/ actress fem reader

Warning: fluff

Plot: after Austin wins his award you bump into his ex girlfriend into the Oscars bathroom.

Word count: 2000

Disclaimer: everything fake, no shade no nothing, just respect for all parties and remember this is all FICTIONAL

"Baby, I'll just go to the bathroom ok? I'll find you after?" I whisper to Austin who turns his head to smile at me. "Sure honey, you feeling ok?" He asks, his attention, that was previously directed at the lady engraving his name on the golden statue, now fully directed to me. "Yes, I just need to use the toilet." I explain, caressing his shoulder, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze. "Ok, be careful!" I see him lean down to kiss me, but we are still not public so I take it upon myself to dodge the kiss. "Sorry." He mumbles, looking apologetic. "That's ok, see you soon!" I wave at him before turning around on my heels and finding my way to the bathroom.

I've got to admit it's pretty crazy, even now after all the success I've had in my career, to see myself surrounded by all these people I looked up to. I look to my right and there is Jamie Lee Curtis talking to Robert De Niro, so I have to stop for a second to just gawk at them. But only for a second, cause I don't want to be caught being a weird fangirl. As I keep walking trying to redeem myself, I bump into Pedro Pascal on the way. He and I are going to be starring in a new HBO series called "The last of us". We already filmed a couple of scenes but he and I have yet to be on set together. "Pedro, hi how are you?" He smiles at me. "I'm good good, you were incredible up there, looking fantastic. A big slay I'd say!" I can't help but laugh a bit too hard, resulting in a funny sound to come out of my nose. "Oh my, Ped, that's that's exactly right." I giggle wiping some tears from the corners of my eyes. "Listen I was on my way to the bathroom, so excuse me. Oh I almost forgot are you coming to Baz's after party? I think I send you the invite didn't I?" I ask. "Yes yes of course I'm coming, gotta watch out for my little girl." Pedro jokes, making us laugh at how serious he's taken to the role of the father figure for my character. "Ok dad." I scream running past him laughing. At this rate I'm collecting fathers like they're infinity stones.

The bathroom is not as full as I expected, that's mostly because all the big categories have been announced by now and a lot of people left for the after parties already. It's a bit tricky getting to do what I need to do in the long dark blue sequence dress, but I manage. I take a good look at myself in the mirror as I'm washing my hands, taking note that a bit of my mascara smudged, so I use a clean tissue paper to wipe that off.

"Excuse me?" A voice calls out as I'm concentrating on getting the mascara situation under control. I toss the tissue in the trash and turn around to see who was call me. I'm stunned the second I'm face to face with the person who just spoke. "(Y/n), oh my goodness I thought that was you, who else would wear a huge navy sequence dress." I can't believe my eyes, Vanessa Hudgens is standing in front of me, looking gorgeous in her black skin fitted dress. "Oh, um hi!" I put my hand out to shake, but she surprises me by pulling me into a tight hug. "You look so beautiful tonight by the way, I wanted to get to talk to you on the carpet, but you were caught up with other interviewers. I didn't want to crowd you." To be honest I avoided her on the carpet on purpose, sure my relationship with Austin isn't yet confirmed to the public and all, but the rumors are there and I'm sure she's seen most if not all of them. "Oh yeah, I was pretty crowded. It's a bummer I didn't get to talk to you, you always give such great interviews." I say, meaning every word, because in truth she is amazing at interviewing people and to not admit that would be a blasphemy. I wasn't avoiding her because I have something against her, in fact I'm actually a big admirer of hers. Austin told how things went down between them and I trust him, from his side nothing bad went down, but there was heartbreak and hurt so I can only imagine that for her it was at least as painful as it was for him, if not worse.

"That's ok, I'm sure we'll get to do it for another carpet, maybe at the Met this year if you're going." She's so sweet. "I think I am, it really depends on how my filming schedule goes."

"Oh hell yeah I saw you and Pedro Pascal got cast for that HBO series, congrats." I blush at all the compliments she's directing my way, toying with the necklace around my neck. "Vanessa, I-" the words just don't seem to come out of my mouth, because frankly I don't even know what I want to say. She seems to understand that I'm having a hard time communicating what I want to say and her features soften as her big smile comes a soft smirk. "Listen, I've seen the rumors, I don't hold it against you or him, if they are true. He was an amazing boyfriend and well maybe we both could've done better to stay together, but I don't think it was meant to be." I can see she speaks from the heart. "I just, I know his side of things, he only has good things to say about you, but.."

"Honey if the one thing holding you back is me, I want you to know you have my full support. Austin deserves to be happy, doesn't matter who it's the one taking care of that as long as he's happy." I'm surprised to say the least, but I think coming off of what Austin told me about her, I expected this kind of reaction from her. "That's so nice of you to say, I just-" she shushes me when the door opens and someone comes in. "Let's go out." She motions her head towards the door, looping her arm around mine and leading me out. "Thank you!" I whisper to her.

"So I need you to know there's no bad blood." She tells me truthfully. "I believe you, but with everything going on I just, I'm scared of people finding out and I don't know how much longer we can keep it under wraps, I mean you saw him." Vanessa seems to understand exactly what I mean. "Longing stares and tight hugs. Oh we've all seen him, you are clearly the better one at hiding all this." I laugh nervously, wondering just how bad Austin is making things look from an outside perspective. "It's not too bad." She chimes in, probably reading my thoughts. "Eh I can try and fool myself, but... in the end we will make it public so there's no more speculations, but we don't want that to overshadow our careers, so we wanted for award season to be over." I explain one of the reasons we're being so private. "I get that. Oh and here comes lover boy." She says looking over my shoulder and before I can turn my neck to look behind me, a hand settles on my hip. "Hey Nessa, what's up?" Austin says, pulling me closer to him.

Vanessa notices the small gesture, throwing me a knowing look. "Nothing much, just talking to (y/n). Congratulations by the way, it was well deserved!" She says, gesturing to the award he's holding in his other hand. "Did they engrave it?" I ask, looking down at it. "Yes, look how cool it looks." Austin says excitedly, holding it up for me to read. "Did they spell your name wrong?" I ask faking concern. "What?" He panics immediately taking a closer look at the award. I can't help but burst out laughing at him. "You little minx!" He teases kissing my cheek, before I get the chance to dodge it this time. "Austin!" I warn looking around worried someone might've noticed. "Sorry." He says quietly.

"Don't be, you look cute together. You actually seem very happy Aus, I'm glad for you. I have to get going now, but I wish you both the best. Have a good one!" She says. "Thank V, you look happy too, I saw you were engaged, how's that?" Austin asks her. His question makes me look down at her left hand, where there is in fact a big beautiful diamond ring. "He makes me happy. I'm glad we both got to be in love again. It suits you." Her words make me wonder how can she see that he's in love with me. I look at his face and don't see anything that could scream 'I'm in love', but like on cue he feels me looking at him, so he turns his head to me. That's when I see it, that glimmer in his eyes, the one that not only screams 'I'm in love' but also it projects it out into the world. "Yeah I think it does. She's the one thing that got me through this whole thing. I have you to thank for all of this, so thank you!" Austin tells her and I can see his words touched her.

"You're welcome Austin, send me an invite to the wedding." Vanessa says, giving him a quick hug and disappearing into the crowd. Wedding? His wedding? With me? She couldn't have meant that? Right? "What's wrong? Did she say anything?" Austin looks over my face and I catch myself in his eyes, looking terrified. "Oh no, no, she was actually really sweet." I avert my eyes from him, this way preventing him from looking straight into my soul as he usually does. "Then..? Oh was it the wedding comment?" Austin catches on either way. I blush deeply and try to shake my head, but there's no point in denying. "Honey she meant that as a joke, ok? I'm not proposing. Not now at least."

Not now, so he's thought about this. "Not now?" The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. "I mean, maybe sometime in the future." Austin clarifies licking his lips anxiously. "Not the near future.." he keeps going hoping to calm me. "(Y/n) I know it’s too soon, but I can't lie and say that I haven't thought about marrying you, ok? I have and I know we are not ready yet."

"Yet? Ok but how will you know when I'm ready? Cause you might be ready faster than I am, since your older and I don't expect you to wait for me." Austin chuckles, brushing back his hair. "Honey, I would wait for you a thousand years and then a thousand more. And if you never want to get married, that's fine too. Now what do you say we go home and change to go to Baz's party?" Austin caresses my cheek, smiling softly at me. "Ok." I sigh, holding my dress up and walking towards the exit where Matt waits for us to drive us back to Austin's place so we could get changed for the after party.

"Can you believe I won this?" Austin asks still looking in disbelief at his award as I lean my head on his shoulder, looking down at the golden prize in his hand. "I can." I say, kissing his neck, feeling his hot skin against my red lips. "Now you're mine." I giggle as I lick my thumb to help clean off the red lip stain. "No, leave it." He says taking my hand and holding my knuckles. "Ok my winner! I love you!" I close my eyes and relax next to him. "I love you too!" Austin tells me kissing the top of my head, letting me lean on him.

Tags: @galaxygirl453 @rainydayz101 @samaraannhan20 @marlowmode @myradiaz @areuirish @micaelainthe60s @homebodybirkin2003 @pennyroyalcreep @purejasmine @strokesofstokes @lanasfloridakiloss @denised916 @kibumslatina @macey234 @melodixs-blog @shantellescrivener @chewiethecatus @guacala @fangirl125reader @father-of-2cats @lucid315 @melodixs-blog @ilovehobi101 @richardslady121 @jensmithin @julie181 @chrisevansgirl34 @ranaissingle @onecrazydirectioner @maria-1287 @austinbutlerssimp @kingdomforapony @acoolnight @tarot-sybarite @goldenmarygio @frozenhuntress67 @anonyboo63478338 @littlewhiterose @thefallofthedamned @1eminicookie @rose-deathman @iheqrtaustin @desitravelsblog @prompted-wordsmith @austinsvlrslut @crystallizedth0t @hertvgirl @peanutbutterinacup @austinswhitewolf

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aconflagrationofmyown · 1 year

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K-Rations: make me know it, go ahead and show it

a Sarge and lil Mama fic, the long anticipated sequel to D-Rations

The sequel to D-Rations: or the one where Elaine realizes she’s in love with her husband and takes measures to make certain no such silliness as the miscommunication in the last chapter will ever come between them again

Warnings: 18+ smut, free use, adoring objectification of a husband??, overstimulation, lactation kink, slight sub space (male), angry makeup sex, cum feeding, communication issues and LOVE

Coauthored with the inimitable @prompted-wordsmith who’s initial prompt for this months ago launched a thousand ships 💋

Elvis had a very clear memory of being fifteen years old and dragging his heels every inch of the mile and a quarter from school to home one overcast day. Scuffing and meandering his way back to his family’s apartment in the Courts and dawdling on the steps outside, flirtin’ with the girls and begging his cousin Gene to get him a glass of water from inside.

“Get it yourself.” Gene had grumbled, till he caught sight of the shiner underscoring the swelling below one of Elvis’ blazing azure eyes.

Gene was a good fella and got that glass of water for him and brought it to him from the Smithe’s upstairs apartment and thusly Elvis had bought about forty five minutes of extra time before Gladys came out and caught sight of the damage done to her son’s face.

It was hard, Elvis thought then, balancing his understanding of his mama’s dread of any harm coming to him with the very dire need to exert himself or else get run over entirely in the harsh crucible of high school.

He’d been punched, and so he punched right back. And tomorrow would be better for it, ugly bruise marring his face, nonetheless. It was the sort of taking care of business womenfolk just couldn’t quite grasp, and he had felt some fiery exasperation that any reasoning was owed them at all for how a man conducted himself outside the female domain. It wasn’t them getting punched, was it? So why should they object if he punched and got punched? Just a fella taking care of business, best he knew how.

Elvis chafed under the nagging familiarity that trudging home to Elaine this fine European evening brought to mind. He thought of trudging home to mama. No shiner this time, just an arm still warm from being hung on by other women and half-baked good intentions he had no idea how to make her understand.

The cobblestone blocks home from the corner diner had never seemed so short and the crowd of fans to impede him so thin. He oughta be rushing home and assuring Elaine that he missed her and that he was just bein’ gentlemanly and givin’ her a lil breather after all the use he put her to since she got over here. But none of that explained the reason she fled as soon as she caught sight of him—or so Rex had told him. Told him she bolted right away. Elvis had never seen Elaine bolt, and just last week he’d seen her hold her ground like never before with those two harlots, Susan and Doris.

It gave Elvis a horrid, queer sorta feeling it had to do with the waitresses that he’d gotten a lil friendly with. Elaine had never minded before but now felt different and like he was in the wrong somehow. He just didn’t know how and before long he’d be at the front gates and he oughta be delighted he was almost home after such a long day. It’s all he wanted, to go home and be with his little family.

Really, he swore it was, so much so he was heartsick with it. And yet he dawdled like a naughty child outside the perimeter of his own fence, half expecting Elaine to embody Mama, to come out from their Bavarian style home wielding a broom handle and switch his backside for bad behavior, crowd of fans be damned.

He really got a little sick at the way his pulse thumped at that thought and his blood ran south in hardening interest. Wasn’t that the reason for this whole little snafu? The fact he couldn’t think of Elaine in any capacity without wanting her and taking her and wanting and taking and over and over again it went.

Bruised petals and dusty window sills.

What if she’s done with me?—he thought suddenly in a panic—what if she’s done and I blew my last chance to make her love me? They’d gotten into such a nice little patch of domesticity since she’d been here, withdrawals and torrid sex and diaper laden trash cans not withstanding… or maybe that was all crucial to it. He’d felt at home and he felt like she had begun to really feel that way with him and just last week he’d finally heard her lay claim to him. It made him want to dance around like a child and wring his cock out like a teenager. He’d done the latter, then fled from her for days, afraid of how much he was feeling, afraid to ask if she was finally feeling it too.

He’d started leaving a bit early, mumbled excuses of “Don’wanna be late, Laney baby, y’know how rowdy them German girls can get outside,'' hopping into the car quickly so she might not notice how he’d gotten a little wide-eyed and weepy down below at watching her in her apron and heels swish around the kitchen. Elvis had taken up invitations to dinner he’d normally scoff at with the boys, he’d started doing more PT to “get back in shape, gotta make sure I’m right fit to run after the new babes, reckon they’re gonna be trouble wit’ a capital T, Tink,” to explain away the bags under his eyes. Didn’t matter that none of their babies were running much of anywhere. Elvis was certain she didn’t deserve the truth, the truth that he was wringing himself dry in the empty showers on base after sweating and huffing out all the energy he couldn’t put to use on her. That was just it, wasn’t it: he had used her, for his own selfish problems he’d gotten into himself, and now he had to rectify that.

Only now, now he was sure that had been the worst thing he could’ve done. That there was yet another mistake somewhere in there he needed to fix. He imagined her coming and and whooping him, but as the door remained shut and the fans dispersed his stomach felt like lead as he imagined her giving him a haughty silent treatment, one he’d never experienced from her but imagined she’d be damned good at from the way she handled their daddies’ bickering. He wouldn’t be able to handle her mask of politeness towards him, all the while she was probably packing a bag and deciding she was finished with him. And oh, God above!

The very notion of that scenario set him ablaze with ferocity and actually quickened his steps as if he was jogging headlong into the house to dissuade his wife from up and leaving him after their first arguem—no. They hadn’t even had an argument or anything, he realized numbly. They actually hadn’t been talking much. Not this last week. Not with all his early mornings and extra time on base and piddling around town—

He wrenched his key into the lock, already angry at her for something she hadn’t done (it was easier than being angry at himself and more commanding than turning into a blubbering idiot begging her to stay) and threw open the door of his house, ready to have it out. Put her over his knee, remind her she could never take his babies away from him, threaten her with the law. Maybe manage to say he was sorry somewhere in there, too.

Fried chicken. That’s what struck him first, the smell of genuine lard baptized breading wrapped around tender white meat. His knees knocked together at the sentimental potency of it. Every surface in sight was damn near sparkling, and he almost felt guilty for putting his shoes on the doormat.

Silence. That hit next. No babble of babies or the radio, no laughter from Dodger and Elaine gossiping to the staccato chop chop chop of something fresh they were gonna force him to eat. Quiet, except for the click of the stove element coming on and off. It was a clear shot from the front door through to the sitting area and onto the long kitchen and dining room that ran along the back of the house, he could see the whole empty space of it and yet through that panic inducing emptiness he noticed the steam rising from one of the pans. She’d never be so foolish as to leave the stove on while leaving the house. Not unless she was madder than he anticipated and wanted to burn their home down.

He shook his shoulders out at the admiring terror that zapped through him with that thought and gingerly undid his uniform coat. Pegs, his little wife had pegs by the door and there, hung in a row, was the mink coat he’d bought her from a magazine while separated, then there was Jesse’s little coat and Ella’s white one with the pink trim. He turned towards them and hung up his military jacket beside her mink. Mommy and daddy and baby and baby number two’s, all in a row.

There’d be two more before next Christmas, god help them.

Elaine’s voice ringing bright and clear right behind him and just at his ear level, spooked him terribly bad outta his domestic reverie,

“Oh excellent,” she drawled as she observed with cool detachment as he clutched the back of his head that had knocked against a peg in his flail, “Perfect timing, dinner’ll be ready in about an hour or so,”

She informed him of this cheerily. As if he hadn’t been coming home too late for dinner or ought else this past week and hope flared in his heart till she reached out and gripped his army green tie, untucking it from between the buttons, and Elvis would deny the little shudder that went through him at the way the fabric slid past his chest. He didn’t have much time to think on it, anyway, as Elaine started to haul him bodily forward towards the sitting area, using all the strength she had amassed by carrying their children and their carriers and their luggage and their hampers about, using it all against him. “In the meantime,” she went on and he found himself tripping over his boots to keep up and watching the curls at the back of her head bounce, “I find myself in need of my husband’s services.”

Services? His brain doesn't reckon much more than the wonderful happening of being hauled around by his tie like a hound on a leash and the smell of that southern cookin’ in the kitchen. There’s a chaise lounge under the front window in the sitting area to the right of the door and it looks like she’s towing him there and while his brain tries to reconcile her kind tone with her rough hands, his cock certainly picks up on the subtext undergirding the notion of services. He’s afraid he hears himself whine at the tug on his neck and when she throttles him and spins him and drags him to sit down on the chaise his mind has gone fuzzy, he’s so utterly knocked off his moorings. Knocked off his feet, too, in a turn of events—only it’s not a turn, is it, really? When he’d first begged to make her his wife he’d gotten on his knees then, too, and suddenly that whole scene is put into a more lecherous context that only makes his head spin more, makes him slump, limp-limbed, onto the cushions. Services.

“Dinner smells great, Laney,” he began to defend himself, pacify her or just blurt out any ole thing that’ll get him off the hook, out of the cloud in his head. But she gripped his face instead, fingers digging into his cheeks and with a rush of relief he understood that this face looking down on him wasn’t the face of a woman done with him—she was furious, rather.

Furious meant she cared. Furious resembled mama. Mama had cared so damn much, no one had come close until this blazing eyed goddess slapped his face and shook him by his jaw while seething,

“You’re my goddamn husband, Elvis!” shake shake shake, his head knocked back with the vehemence of her passion, cover falling to the cushions and then the floor as he was forced to lay back into his seat with her vehemence, cheek smarting. His heart was soothed by it even as his hair fell into his eyes and his jaw ached, “You aren’t some hunk of meat that other gals get to paw at and lay claim to while you leave me without so much as a word in the mornings or a prayer at night! You hear me?”

She still hadn’t let go of his tie with her other hand. It was strangling him most pleasantly, starched collar chafing, and his voice was wrecked when he tried to agree, “Yes, yes’m I-I-I know…” through the squish of his forcefully pouted lips. He knew and he was aware now where he had gone wrong, though he wondered at her missing him at all, wasn’t everyone eager to get a breather from his presence?

“Haven't I been accommodatin’?” she begged instead and sounded so very hurt even as she drew him out of his pressed slacks with a stern hand, slacks she’d ironed patiently the night before—hard as rock and gushing appreciatively already. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, fumbling for some sort of grip on the edge of the chaise. It seemed almost blasphemous to touch her right now. She’s all a mix of vulnerable and ruthless this evening and his heart pounds in his ears at the sight of this side of her again, a righteous goddess. Unleashed on him, this time. Just as he’d fantasized about a week ago while helping himself with his own fist.

“Yes yes always, baby, always so damn selfless, I had to get away. Had to pace myself.” he swore in a rush, suddenly needing her to understand the devotion welling up in his chest as she paused for the briefest moment in shuffling her crinoline aside.

He watched as Elaine’s eyebrow quirked in comprehension, the angry set of her mouth gentling before her body sprang back into action and she dropped down on him with groan-inducing entitlement. He wheezed, realizing there was no cotton chafing at little Elvis—Elaine wasn’t wearing panties.

“That’s why you're bein’ so cold?” she beat on his chest as she began to rock on him and all too late he really believed that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “You got time for buddies and waitresses but you won’t so much as touch me these last few days. Why? Why?” Her pretty face was twisted into a snarl.

The grip on his tie got mortally tight with each demand as did her pussy around him and he found he was going very fuzzy and he’d like to explain, tried to through a series of whimpers comprising her name and apologies of various coherence. She began to ride him with all the ferocity of a woman, a wife scorned, her own eyes boring into his. It’s all too much, too quick, the furniture creaking below them as he thrusts his hips up into her, meeting her every swivel and grind. Home, he’s home, and his body melts at that comfort, he was already leaking, can hear the squelching as he’s fucked on this proper chaise, her skirts still pressed and curls perfectly pinned, her chest constrained in her bodice. There’s nothing visual for him to latch onto, aside from that fiery stare. It’s as if he’s just there for her, and a whine escapes him as he realizes he’s being used. A whimpering apology of, “‘M sorry baby, ‘m sorry Laney!” falling from his lips, still held captive in her hands.

“Sorry?” Elaine hisses, all flashing teeth and taunting sneer, “I don’t want you just sorry, I want what’s mine, I want you to want me again! I don’t reckon you’re sorry enough, not with the way you seem too distracted by passing floozies in waitress uniforms to come home to us.”

“I am home!” And his own verbal dam breaks since that first time he saw that side of her, right on this very chaise, “Jesus, lil mama, only you get me, only you—’m yours, darlin’, I love you, love ya, won’t let them get handsy no more—Satnin’, my Satnin!”

And that last endearment is what gives Elaine pause, makes her realize that Elvis… her husband…really does love her. This is the first time he’s used that sacred name for anyone else since Lovie—Miss Gladys—died, God rest her soul. She’s in a league of her own in his mind, up there with the angels and the heavenly host. Now Elaine’s numbered among them. She can’t help the clench of her little house, the gasp she lets out, squeezing at Elvis’, her husband’s, her husband who loves her’s, key. She attacks him with little kisses, all over his dreamy, pretty, infuriating face. She leaves little smudges of her lipstick that make something in her chest, that had been wound tight over this whole neglectful business, unwind ever so slightly.

Elvis gasps out as she flutters over his face, dotting him with her adoration and he—he jus’—he can’t hold it in no more. His relief started in the eyes and sizzled down his spine, he started to cum, head tilting back, tears languishing his lash line as he was wrung dry by her yittle cunt.

“No more, no more, I swear!” he promised good behavior and begged for a reprieve from the bouncing clench of her all at once. He reached out with grabby hands, trying to maybe pull her off, pull her up his chest so he might use his mouth—but he was unceremoniously slapped away. She didn’t stop her bouncing, caring not a whit as he whimpered and gasped and twisted his hands into the poor chaise cushions, the same cushions he’d seen her be just as mean to those nasty women on.

“No,” Elaine said, staring down at him with stern good humor as if he was a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “No, Naughty, you’re gonna sit there all nice and pretty, my own pretty soldier boy, for me, baby. And you’re gonna let me use you, this time.”

Oh, oh Lordy she was a vision as she clenched around his soft cock, lil hole hungry as she worked those thighs he knew were under her dress. Only he couldn’t see, and that extra layer of, of decency when he was being so thoroughly disregarded as anything other than a part of the furniture made something in him drift away. He felt hazy all over, breaths shallow little pants through his mouth, tiny whimpers the only thing he could manage through the tie, the hand on his face, and the feeling of—

“‘M sorry, s’sor-ry, ah! ‘M yours, ‘m yours!” As he felt himself starting to chub up within her. It was agonizing, made him writhe, turn his head away and sob because she wasn’t stopping.

“We share everythin’, Elvis!” she insisted, some portion of this hurt forming in her conciseness, punctuated by her loneliness and isolation, the amount of friendship and companionship she had given up for him.

A faint sheen of sweat painted Elaine’s temples as she did all the work, using the hand on his face to plant on his shoulder for leverage, just as he taught her that first night. Just thinking about it, thinking of how she’d babbled praises at him then—he became fully hard again soon enough, body betraying him, responding to the wet softness surrounding his cock. Even that least clever part of him knew when he was home. He was jerked like a stallion by his reins to look at her again, look at how she’d used the other hand, now, to bury under her dress and play with her lil button. She clenched like a fury around him, staring right into Elvis’ eyes as she ground down, hard, and came herself all over his dress pants and cock, squeezing him raw.

He couldn’t help the extra babble of, “p’ease, mama, p’ease, n’more!”

“You sit there like a good boy, E, you sit there and be good,” Elaine was panting to him, only he was sure that he couldn’t, he wasn’t good, was he? Not after the way she’d slapped him, didn’t deserve her soft praise, he had been bad, so bad—

“‘M not good! S’s-sorry, ‘m not…!” He bucked his hips up into her, wiggling, trying to get her off of him, only Elaine was an experienced rider and remained unphased by his squirming. She was used to wiggly little boys, Jesse being much the same as his father.

“You can be a good boy, baby, you can,” and she was being so mean, so mean, even as she pet at his cheek and neck, smearing slick onto his pulse, using one curled finger to tip his head back and admire the long line of his shining throat and cooed at him. “You jus’ gotta take it, baby.”

“No! No-no-n-no!” Elvis whined, trying again to arrest her movement, stop her working thighs as he felt himself teeter close to that edge again, the sloppy slick-slap as she resumed her pace and slammed down onto his hips, circling her own, driving him into full on crying. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the repetitive swallows as he tried to stop himself from drooling. Tears glittered on his cheeks but all Elaine did was kiss them away, kiss at his slack mouth as he wailed.

“You can yowl like a feral tomcat all ya want, Naughty, you’re not goin’ nowhere,” Elaine panted, picking up her pace again, using one hand to wrench into his hair, sweat-damp and mussed. Elvis came again just as she ground against him harshly, the pain in his scalp triggering his pleasure.

He lost a little time, coming to only to sniffle as he was fed her fingers, sticky with her cum, with his cum that had leaked out around where they were joined, the sharp-salty tang, still trapped under her in the best and worst way.

“You’re mine, Elvis,” Elaine stated then, sitting primly still on his lap, “Before God almighty above, you’re mine first and foremost.”

He nodded, cried out, “Yes, yes’m, yes m-mama, thank you,” like he was taught, the polite little gentleman, grateful for the respite even if she was still keeping him inside her. He could feel the wet stickiness on his trousers, getting a little uncomfortable but not daring to squirm, lest her mercy not last. “I don’t want any more of this abstinence nonsense. I don’t want you running off with some German trollops while you neglect your wife, ya hearin’ me, husband?” Elaine decreed.

“‘M sorry,” Elvis breathed out, reaching for her waist again cautiously. She allowed his hands to settle on her tummy, to palm the growing bump there. She pulled him up by the tie, cradling his head to her bosom, and he nosed at her pretty tits within her dress subconsciously. He—he didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted, not when he felt so small. Was it allowed? Did he do good enough?

“You want somethin’, daddy?” Elaine hummed, and he shuddered at the gentle tone and the scritch of her perfectly manicured nails through his hair and down the back of his neck. They dipped beneath his shirt collar, teased at the knob of his spine.

“I don’—don’ deserve it,” he confessed, coming out of his hiding spot under her chin to look up at her through his lashes, tear-spiked and trembling. “I’ve—been bad.”

“Shh,” Elaine simpered, unbuttoning her house dress and letting the front placard fall, her breasts already leaking from her exertions as she then drew him in, one hand on the back of his head and the other still ever-present on his tie. “You’ve been good to me now, haven’t you, Elvie-baby? We understandin’ each other thorough, now?” She tilted his chin up, tone becoming uncompromising at the last question. He was quick to nod, panting again, sticky trousers forgotten in the face of lip-licking longing.

“I need your words, honey,” Elaine called, drawing his attention back to her pretty face.

“Yes’m, mama, been good, I’ll—I’ll be s’good, for you,” Elvis said, chin quivering, looking bout ready to burst back into tears, face smeared with Elaine’s lipstick and the subtle shine of salt—the evidence of this long-winded kiss and make up.

“Perfect, perfect man.” Elaine murmured, pulling him back, and Elvis immediately latched on, moaning into her nipple as milk gushed into his mouth, dribbled down his chin, getting caught on his tight shirt collar. His lashes tickled her, a little “Hoo—ah!” from the voracious suction of his mouth, so much stronger than her babies’.

“There you go, there’s my pretty husband. My husband, my messy boy,” she crooned into his hair, biting her lip as she clenched around his still-soft member within her. She was sore, hadn’t taken her husband in days because of his own self-sacrificing tendencies, as she understood it, and was revelling now in the openness, the squelch of his seed spilling out of her. She pulled at Elvis’ hair, guiding him to the other nipple, him seemingly not noticing her start to rock gently on him yet again, feeling the slow-building heat come back to her belly. It was nice, this soft, squishy thing inside her—a chastened lil Elvis that soothed the ache while bringing her closer to the edge.

“Shh, baby,” she panted, starting to rock in earnest as she felt him come to life under her, jerking up, wringing at the pooling fabric of her skirt around her hips. He mewled against her breast, no longer really suckling, just open-mouthed smears of what might be kisses as he was so cruelly put to service yet again. Only this time it was better, because the milk smearing his face was hers, the shade of red she wore smudged down his cheekbones, paving the way for the two new twin tracks of tears as she started bouncing in earnest. He made only small little sounds, nuzzling into her like a kitten, bucking up as if he couldn’t help the movement despite the way it made his pretty face twist into pleasure-pain agony.

“One more,” Elaine decided, allowing herself to be greedy as she looked at the clock on the mantlepiece, “You give me one more now, my good boy, my husband, you give me one more spurt from that pretty cock and then I’ll feed ya, feed you up with a good m-meal, hmm? How does that s—ah!—sound?”

“Ma…ma,” was the only response she got, slurred from plump, shiny red lips, like the sweet cherries she might find in the summertime back in Memphis. His head lolled back, the only thing keeping him semi-upright the ironclad grip she had on his tie still. Couldn’t stop herself from kissing him, then, licking into his mouth and tasting her own milk. It was a heady feeling, made her thrust down harder, wanting to leave bruises on his pelvis like he did with her hips. It made all her worries disappear, seeing Elvis like this, so relaxed and accommodating, letting her use him up until he was dry and weeping, looking for all the world like a little boy—her little boy.

“Downright angelic,” Elaine gasped, admiring the cut of his cheekbones, the deepening of his flush, if that was possible, as he arched his back and met her downward bounce with a buck up. Wiggly as always. She unbuttoned the bottom of his own shirt, rucking up his undershirt, too, until she could see his own nipples—and she pinched them like he did hers, which made him let loose a whimpering cry and finally jerk hard enough to get her to release his tie for fear of truly choking him. He pulsed within her, hands clenching in a grip round her swollen waist as he gracelessly shoved up into her, once, twice, and she tipped over the edge from his vigor and the picture he made—

His jaw sharp as glass, smeared with her own slick and the white of his cum from when she’d fed him their combined releases, along with the milky cream of her breastmilk. Her lipstick prints nigh on disappeared into the decadently red blush that painted him all the way down to his heaving belly, interrupted by the scrunch of his undershirt at his collarbones and the still-buttoned dress shirt collar, the tie that was so useful flipped up and over his shoulder. His chest, his pecs so nicely defined, topped by frankly temptingly perked nipples. Those pretty blue eyes were neon-bright against the contrast of his flushed face, slack lipped and drooling. He stared at her as if she was something to be worshiped. This—this was hers, her Elvis. Only she would ever get to see this pretty picture, Elaine swore to herself, petting at his chest, flicking at one berry-bright areola. He barely twitched under her, gone quiet and pliant in a way that would worry her if he didn’t look so utterly blissed out. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was on some of them pharmaceuticals, by the glaze in his blown-pupiled eyes.

“Elvis, you with me, baby?” Elaine called, taking his chin in hand. His neck was limp, and all she got at first was an utterly drunken smile up at her, open-mouthed and guileless. It made her want to cradle him back to her chest, protect the utter innocence he exuded as he asked,

“Y’s’m?”

“Hey there, pretty boy.” She wasn’t quite sure where this all had come from, maybe some part of her recognizing the way he’d shuddered on their wedding night at her gentle attentions. Watching him fight and fight and fight his impulse to let himself be taken care of -the forcefully surrendering way he took care of her- took care of her babies, their friends, his fans, the whole goddamn world seemingly needing a piece or a part of him.

Well, he was wrung dry here and now on her chaise lounge, nothing more to give and she petted the tear wet cheek she had so vehemently slapped. This is what she could give him, she could give him a moment of weakness, everyone needs it from time to time. But, still—this had been a lot, and while she was doing mighty fine herself, Elvis was barely coherent and it worried her.

“You ready for some chicken, baby? I made some good, country fried chicken, jus’ for you, been so good for me,” Elaine let herself babble a soft stream of praises and thoughts, gently prying Elvis’ hands off her hips, holding them in one hand to kiss them before she used the other to leverage herself up and off of his soft cock, a wet gush of their combined fluids absolutely soaking him as she did. Another set of words welled up in her throat, three words that she wanted to say to him. But not right now. Not now, but soon.

“Yes’m,” he said, demurely staring up at her as she stood on wobbly feet, crinoline crinkling as she smoothed it out. Elaine was careful to keep one of her hands in his, because she had the feeling that this was not the time to deprive him of contact. Not the time to do anything but be gentle, to assure and coddle.

“You and I are gonna go clean up,” she said, taking another glance at the clock to make sure that yes, she could leave the chicken on its lonesome for a good thirty minutes so she and him could wash up. “C’mon, we made ya so messy, you’re real messy right now, honey.”

“‘M a messy boy,” Elvis giggled, beaming up at her, following her tug like a fawn—all too-long, elegant limbs, and big, shiny eyes. She led him up the stairs, his trousers undone and smeared all down the crotch to his knees with their mess, their hands clutched together as if they’d get lost without some sort of tether. And, as she guided him into the bathroom, gently tugging off his boots and then his pants, his dress shirt and then his undershirt, she had the sneaking suspicion he might just manage to wander somewhere if she wasn’t careful.

She briefly thought of the bath, but no, a washcloth would have to do—the chicken wouldn’t last much longer without her attentions, and she wanted her hard work to go into her man’s belly rather than to the stray dogs outside.

So she ran warm water and wiped him down, leaving his rumpled, stained clothes in the bathroom in favor of guiding him into their bedroom and to the clothes she habitually laid out on the counterpane. Elvis still wore a childish, empty-headed expression, all pretty face and guileless baby blues that made her heart flip. But the chicken—so she asked, carefully, “Baby, can you dress yourself? I gotta check on dinner.”

That was a mistake, a misstep, judging by the way his glistening chest started to heave in a panic and his eyes started to water afresh. “Y’yer leavin’ me?” he slurred out of puffy, shiny lips.

“No, no!” she rushed to get it out, holding onto him again and gently guiding him to sit down on the bed -the bed she’d watched him wring himself out on a week ago- “I’ll stay, I’ll stay.” she repeated, at a loss as to how to comfort him beyond touch and all her ire gone out of her at the sight of his limb shaking terror. She was still new to this, they both were. New and a little lost and they had to keep ahold of each other or they’d float away. Damn the chicken.

That was the problem wasn’t it? They needed to share everything. Solitary children, the both of them, and now they had each other. It made each separation or fissure in their shared experience a doubly worse betrayal because of it. That was Elaine’s chief complaint against him this week, it never was about other women, it was about the separation, the estrangement, the uncoupling.

Helpless, she acted on impulse and sat herself down in his naked lap, curling around him and feeling with heart melting relief his arms encircle her, squeezing her to his chest fiercely.

“T-t-the house was empty.” he stuttered out his explanation, trying to get her to understand what that was like for him -rushing home to make her stay, flinging open the door and not a bit of life to be found in his home.

His version of hell.

“You thought,” she soothed, kissing at his cheek, “but I’ve got chicken on the stove and our babies are with Betsy. I’m here. I’m right here. All that was missin’ was you. And now you’re here, too.”

His shakes subsided a little and he nods, rearing his head back to really look at her and on seeing her clearly, Elvis beams at her, wide and carefree, and it made her heart clench with… with love, to see him like this. To see the sheer trust behind this mindset he’d slipped into, it made her feel like the most special girl in the world. It made her forget any and all Susans and waitresses and other such floozies. They could have the tiny crumbs they snatched from the floor like rats—Elaine was the one with his ring on her finger, who got this. Her husband buries his face in her neck and flutters kisses over her wildly thumping pulse.

She feels like she’s keeping a secret, all of the sudden.

This, this has been coming for a long time. Building slow and steady in Elaine’s heart like the consciousness of a babe growing, first just a suspicion, and then excitement, then visible proof, and then the testing pain of it.

Till at last, a babe she loved ferociously without having ever even met it. This, somewhere along the way, this affection for him had become love, her head left behind and her heart in a full gallop, unrestrained, unreasoned with, undendiable.

“You could crush me with the tiniest word, ya know that?” she realizes it as she says it.

Realizes that’s what love is, giving power over yourself to someone else. It’s why she was so angry, so suddenly lonely, so fiercely protective of her portion of him.

It’s love.

He must’ve felt so lonely, so scared, loving her without a promise of return, there’s no way she could have managed that. He’s brave, her boy, he’s so brave. “I didn’t, I didn’t realize how strong a feelin’ it is.” she whispers, her own voice choked up with tears and Elvis raises his face from her neck abruptly, surfacing quite suddenly from his submissive stupor and looking almost wary in his hopefulness.

“What feelin’?” His voice dipps impossibly lower and it contrasts thrillingly with that boyish face.

“Ya shoulda warned me, you fool.” she blushes and smacks at his neck in embarrassed dallying, “How was I to know? Never been…never been before…”

“What feelin’!” he demands, grabbing her chin and his hand spanned the width of her jaw, one side to the other, paying her back in her own vehement coin.

Her smile grows even under the vice grip of his fingers and red lips part to flash gleaming white teeth and with a little sniffle and a roll of her chocolate drop eyes she huffs, “Love, Elvis, I’ve loved badly ya for a long time now, just didn’t realize it.”

He coulda told her that, coulda told her every little thing she did for him was loving, but she had to know it herself, so he’d let her be. The hand on her jaw spasms as he sucks in a little sob, his lip wobbling before his breath heaves back out in a:

“Oh thank god, oh baby, fuck, I don’t mean tthat I-I-I oh thank Jesus-“ his head thuds back onto her chest and she realizes he’s weeping then, tears and whatnot adding to their previous mess on her undone placard.

“Oh, shh, shh, it’s ok.” she mutters helplessly, holding onto his shoulders and trying to hug the truth deeper into him,

“Say it again.” he near wails into her breasts.

“I. Love. You.” she thumps his back with each statement like she’s burping a baby.

He pulls his head back and looks at her again, double takes, like he’s gonna glare the veracity of her truth outta her. “You’re jus’ sayin’ that casue you’re mad I ain’t no goody two shoes husband. ” he tests, moody and sullen.

Elaine knows this game, she smirks at his transparency, “These ain’t the first girls I’ve caught hangin’ on ya, E,” she reminds him, recalling as she does that Betsy, who she found him sharing an actual bed with while away from her, will be bringing the kids back any minute now, and here they are undressed, “and like I said, I’ve been obligin’ haven’t I?”

“Yeah. Don’t mean ya love me.” he points out.

“I thought we got this point into that fool head of yours while downstairs but I guess you weren’t paying attention.” she tsks, rising from his lap and stripping out of her soaked house dress -much to his confusion and distraction- while going on merrily, “I’m angry this time cause you left me out!” she dictates her point with an elegant finger to his sternum and his eyebrows raise in semi-enlightenment, “I don’t wanna be left out! I’m jealous of you, cause I love you and I’m damn proud that your mine, and you make me happier than I thought I could ever be and ya make me angrier than I-I thought either. Lord I’d do obscene things to keep you lovin me, E, I would. And I’d kill ya ‘fore I let you tire of me. If you’ve got lady friends,” she continues in the face of his growing smile, the death threat really warming his southern heart, as she pulls on another dress, “you’ll tell me about them. I’m your wife, you owe me your time and you owe me your vigor and if you’ve got scraps left to give elsewhere, well,” she flips her hair out of the collar and presses her hands primly to her sides, “then I’ll be kept informed of them. They’ll be our little secret, not yours. There ain’t a you and a me, there’s just us. You swore it, Naughty, ya swore it before God.”

“I ‘member.” he nods solemnly from his place on the side of the bed, “But there ain’t anyone else, lil Mama,” his tone is unbearably earnest, “there’s jus’ you.”

Elaine’s heart twinges at that. It’s a truth, she knows, but for how long? She’s been so scared to care about him too much, so sure he’s gonna hurt her eventually. He’d managed to wiggle his way into her heart anyway, and she’s tired of being unconscious of it, this fierce devotion dying to be let out at last.

She lets the statement be, takes it for the promise it is. She’s his wife. “I know.” She assured him.

“If ya love me,” he challenges once more, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little tired from the emotion and the exertion and the contention, “-get over her and show it.” he taunts as he leans back on the bed, his arms wide open and his body inviting and she knows he knows, knows he gets it.

She tackles him anyway. Knocking the air out of him and tossing him back into the counterpane, letting him roll her under him and thrash atop the outfit she laid out for him. Let’s him kiss her greedily and wantingly and sure, thinks she can feel the difference in him.

This is Elvis knowing he’s loved. He’s magical and sure of himself and confident in a way that boosts her own surety, like they’re feeding each other in a never ending replenishing cycle.

“My yittle baby, my perfect baby, my wifey, silly widdle thang don’t know her own mind.” he mumbles into her hairline as he peppers her face with smooches and she allows it; soaks up the dynamic change as suddenly he’s patronizing and sure of himself even as he’s talking all little and vulnerable.

He’s Elvis.

And he’s kissing her ravenously as if he can persuade her to love him more with each press of his plush lips and each nip of his teeth and lick of his tongue.

“You’ve been cryin’.” he comments as he licks at her cheeks, tasting tears, and his voice sounds surprised as if he himself wasn’t weeping a few minutes ago.

“So were you.” she laughs.

“Nuh uh.” he denies with a shake of his head and she rolls her eyes while his tongue plunges into her mouth once more. Foolish man, stubborn, bashful man that she loves, God help her-

“Yooo hooo!” comes from right outside their door, right in the upstairs hallway and Elvis dives off her onto the other side of their bed before she can even think to suggest it. His naked form lying full prone to the ground, tactically perfect -turns out the army taught him a thing or two, though that butt of his is still sticking up higher than would be preferred in a tactical setting. Elaine stifles the sound of her snicker but he sees her nose wrinkle from it and swears softly at her.

“Betsy, darlin’ just a minute.” Elaine hollers, while patting herself down to make sure she’s not misplaced some important part of herself during all this wrassling. She grabs his clothes from the bed and tosses them down at him, watching bemused as he tries to get them on in his prone position before stepping over to him to bend down and kiss him once more. “I love you.” she reminds.

He turns scarlet under the plunging neckline of his white sweater, “thank ya.” he preens sweetly and she takes a second to admire that, her hand still stroking his soft cheek, before straightening up and going to the door.

Cracking open the door the rest of the way reveals Betsy in her pretty gingham, arms straining to hold up one baby while the other strains her arm to be released for a crawl. “How do ya do it?” she gasps, talking about the children who immediately break lose of her nannying arms, Ella diving straight for her mother’s embraces while Jesse books it on the floor between Elaine’s legs, headed towards Elvis hiding place like he can sniff him out.

Elvis pops up just in time, a little rumpled and askew but thoroughly covered, though his attempt to pick up his son is aborted by the way his legs are still shaking and he wobbles onto the bed with a noisy flail. He feels Jesse pawing at his shin as Elizabeth’s eyes rake over him and he wonders if this is how Elaine felt sitting at lunch with Daddy and Dodger after their wedding night, or at each train stop on the way down fo Fort Hood when he paraded her in front of his adoring fans in between feverish bouts of love making that left her near catatonically used.

He recalls how she looked very well. He remembers his savage smugness at touching up her smudged makeup and displaying her again and again all primped after he wrecked her, wondering if the world could see how claimed she was by the wobble of her painted lip and the wide shock of her perfectly lined eyes.

Look, he’d been saying at each station stop, look at the perfect little thing that lets me love her.

He sees that smugness on Elaine’s face as she waits for Elizabeth to get her breath back as she just stares and stares at Elvis spread out in the bed like he’s grown another head. Betsy looks so shocked by the sight of him he actually looks down to make sure he’s put on pants but all's in order, he must just have “Elaine’s stud” written on his forehead and he blushes at that. He wouldn’t allow it if she didn’t love him. He’s afraid he’s gonna be allowing a lotta shit for the reason. Looking down for his pants reminds him of his baby boy, still clutching his pant leg and he grunts with the effort of heaving himself upright and pulling his little buddy into his lap.

“Hey bubs, how ya been?” he babbles as he tips backwards again, his spin worn out and he realizes he’s terribly weak and very, very hungry. He thinks he can smell buttery soft breading burning downstairs and it makes his mouth water.

“I manage it with help like yours.” Elaine replies, honest and bemused a few seconds late and she almost snaps her fingers in front of Elizabeth’s glazed eyes before the girl finally drags them back from the sight of her languid husband to her own face.

“Oh, n-no problem. Anytime.” Betsy assures again, sweet gal that she is. “Do I need to stay and work on the letters?” she asks it a little hopefully, wringing her now empty hands, and Elaine knows that she’s missed being in this house and around him, around them even, what with Elaine kicking her out for privacy during his withdrawals.

Not many families have a pretty, live-in secretary that the wife tolerates but the Presley’s aren’t most families, and Elaine is accommodating as they’ve just established, and she likes collecting people around her man that she’s certain love him the right sort of way. And if he loves them back, well, it’s a curious thing to her that she doesn’t for once doubt he’s got enough to go around. Her love cup will be overflowing from now on, she has no need to begrudge the droplets that others quench themselves with. She realizes what was missing was her own contribution.

It all settles into place, belonging and longing and having. She loves him.

“No, no need for the letters tonight.” She replies and watches Betsy’s pretty face fall for a brief moment before the girl catches herself, then Elaine adds what she always intended to add- “But stay for dinner, Betsy, so long as it hasn’t burned.”

We hope y’all enjoyed and can’t wait to hear your thoughts, screams and prompts 🌹💋

Taglist (comment if you’d like to be added, dears)

@paradsol000

@eliseinmemphis

@prompted-wordsmith

@ab4eva

@foreverdolly

@powerofelvis

@butlersxbirdy

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

@whatstruthgottodowithit

@arianatheangelgirl

@steph-speaks

@burningloverdoll

@angelface-555

@lookingforrainbows

@missmaywemeetagain

@coolgirl462

@kingdomforapony

@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@renaissingle

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

217 notes · View notes