#Ready Teddy - Elvis Presley | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

qveerthe0ry · 7 months

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Lions Ain't the Kind - Part One

Summary: Frankie hasn't dated in years, but now he knows what he's looking for. He's just not so good at asking for what he wants, and you're willing to help him work on it. Word Count: 8,156 Pairing: Frankie Morales x NB/Gender-fluid! AFAB! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, subby!Frankie, soft dom! reader, talks about gender non-conformity, sickening fluff, Frankie is way too cute and sweet for his own good, kissing, making out, handjob (m receiving), anal fingering (m receiving), dirty talk, Frankie has a praise kink, no use of y/n, no physical descriptions of reader Beta: @perotovar (my angel ilysm) A/N: Sorry for talking about this for a month straight without posting it lol! The title is from the song (Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear by Elvis Presley which I admittedly haven't listened to but I saw the lyrics and knew immediately it was my Frankie. I hope you enjoy, and I'm always open to criticism and thoughts and thots!

Frankie hasn’t dated in years. He hasn’t really had the time, between his first child being born and navigating co-parenting with his ex, along with healing some very deep trauma and getting and staying clean.

It just hasn’t been on his mind, if he’s honest. He’s been busy finding himself, as Pope calls it. And he’s not wrong. It’s taken a long while for him to be comfortable in his own skin, to come to terms with the things he’s done and the baggage he can now store in an overhead bin, rather than carry it around with him at all times.

But now, he’s ready. He knows himself, and as a result, he knows what he’s looking for.

Someone kind-hearted and down to earth. Someone who’s independent and established, but not just looking for a hookup. Someone with a sweet smile and a desire for enjoying the little things in life.

Someone like you.

He’d swiped right and left dozens of times on men and women alike, but as soon as he saw your profile on whatever dating app he’d downloaded, he was hooked.

You were gorgeous. He felt the heat from your smile through his phone screen, so happy and genuine and sweet.

You were funny, the answers to those weird icebreaker questions full of witty remarks.

You were smart, clearly, from your shoutout to your alma matter and the ‘boring’ job you mentioned in your profile.

He honestly figured he had no chance at all. His face is only getting more wrinkly, and his hair more gray, and he’s never been the sharpest or funniest guy in the room.

So when he swiped left and you matched, he was stunned. He was even more shocked when you messaged him before he could even think of what to say to you.

Hi cutie 🥰

Despite the fact that he was home alone on his couch, he had the sudden urge to look behind him, as if you’d be talking to someone else. The back of his neck got so warm, and your boldness only made him more into you.

So he messaged you back

Hi :) how are you?

I’m surprised we matched, honestly. Pleasantly surprised 😊

Same here :) Why the surprise though? I’m sure you match with everyone

Not at all, it’s hard to find people whose type I am on here. I usually use the queer dating apps but I opened this one out of boredom. What are the chances?

What are the chances, indeed, Frankie thinks, as he gives your profile another look over. Frankie doesn’t understand how you aren’t everyone’s type. He feels a little bit like he’s talking to a celebrity, looking at your pictures and just a snippet of who you are on this reductive dating app.

I like the odds :)

——

As your conversation continues normally over the next few days, Frankie learns a lot about you. He also learns a lot about himself.

It’s been so long since he’s played the field, so to speak, that he’s rusty as all hell and a bit awkward. He’s afraid to flirt too much, every message deleted and re-written at the risk of sounding too cheesy or too forward or too much.

You aren’t afraid to flirt. You send ‘good morning, handsome’ and ‘sweet dreams, pretty boy’ texts every day and night. You tell him your day would be better if you could cuddle someone, you tell him when you’re taking a relaxing bath that you wished he were there to join you.

And to say that Frankie likes it is a massive fucking understatement.

He adores it, he thinks about you constantly, all day long while he works without access to his phone, all evening long while he waits on your replies, all night long, when you’ve bid each other goodnight out of nothing but courtesy for each other’s sleep schedules.

You lead him along like a timid puppy on a leash, showing him new things with patience and care and it drives him insane. He wants to meet up with you so bad, or even just call you on the phone to hear your voice. He thinks about it, late at night, if it’s higher or lower in register, if it’s smooth or raspy. He wants to learn everything about you.

That being said, he’s not sure if he’s ever met someone who’s ‘non-binary/gender-fluid’ before. He doesn’t get out much, he hardly talks to anyone who he hasn’t known for years.

So he googles. It doesn’t really help. He understands what it means, but he doesn’t know what it means to you. He wants to ask you a million questions, but is afraid to bring up even one, and ruin the moment, or sound like an idiot.

You’re so kind though. So he bites the bullet.

Can I ask you a question?

Your response comes almost immediately, now that it’s evening time, both finished with dinner— his takeout vs. your leftover spaghetti.

Of course, pretty boy ❤️

He still flushes deep when you call him that, heat spreading all throughout his face and neck and chest.

How did you know you were non-binary/ gender-fluid?

He frets over the text a bunch before he sends it, making sure he worded it the same way you did in your profile. His heart pounds as he waits for your response.

I’ve always just kind of known I didn’t feel like a man or a woman. I used to think everyone felt somewhere in between, and it was just normal to not feel like I checked either box, but then I realized no one else around me felt the way I did. And then I learned all the terms and whatnot, later on, and knew that’s what I am. Just kinda in between, neither and both, sometimes one and sometimes the other. If that makes sense?

His smile splits his cheeks as he reads your in-depth response, eating up every bit of information you’re willing to give him.

That makes perfect sense to me. Thank you for sharing :)

It doesn’t scare you off?

Frankie scoffs, as if anything about you could scare him off. At this point, you could show up on his doorstep with a dead body in a bag, and he’d throw it in his trunk, dispose of it, and then ask if he could maybe kiss you.

Not at all. Nothing about you scares me :)

——

It’s a few more days before Frankie works up the courage to ask for your phone number. You tell him you were wondering when he was going to finally ask for it. It makes him itchy to think about you waiting for him to ask, making him be the one to do it. In a good way. In a way that kind of makes him stiffen up in his briefs if he thinks about it for too long.

But now, as he settles in from a long day at work, his grin splits his face from ear to ear as he reads your text.

Can I take you out tomorrow night?

He likes it… a lot. He feels so fucking new to all this, like a fumbling newborn calf taking its first steps, and how forward you are eases him so thoroughly.

I’d love that :)

Meet me here at 5 for dinner. Casual dress, but I’m sure you’ll be handsome in anything 😘

It’s the longest 22 hours of his life, and it’s the shortest, all at the same time. Texting you, making funny jokes like his bones aren’t about to creep right out from under his skin with all the nerves buzzing his body. Thinking about you, dreaming about you, one right after the other. When he wakes in the morning it’s like he didn’t get a wink of sleep, his anxiety drumming up a million different scenarios of how it could go right and wrong.

Calling Santi mid-morning on a Saturday when he knows he’s spending time with his family, because if he doesn’t talk to someone about this he may just float off into the ether.

“I’m so fucking nervous, Pope, what do I do? How do I act? Can you just stake out at the bar and feed me lines through an earpiece?”

“Pendejo, fucking— grow a pair man. You’re cute and funny, you’ve got this.”

Reading your texts with pupils shaped like hearts:

I can’t wait to see you tonight, cutie ❤️

and

I finally settled on an outfit

and

Is it weird that I’m not even nervous? I’m just excited to finally meet you

It is weird, Frankie thinks, but doesn’t dare tell you. It’s weird how he can’t even eat the plain toast he made for lunch without feeling bile rise in the back of his throat, and you’re just excited. It’s weird how he’s never, ever felt so gone over someone, and you haven’t even met yet.

It’s not weird, it’s sweet :) I’m excited too <3

It’s not a lie, but he’s omitting the truth a bit. He’s excited but he’s nervous, picking meticulously through his closet to find something casual but not too casual, something he likes the look of himself in, something he thinks you’ll like the look of.

It only gets worse as he stares at google maps. The restaurant is 2.6 miles away, 11 minutes from his house. It’s 4:30, and he wants to leave already, but thinks maybe it’s better to deal with the anxiety in the comfort of his home rather than the parking lot, in case you’re there early too, and you can see how much of a fucking wreck he is.

He watches the minutes tick up in the corner of his phone screen. At 4:36, he gets up, fusses in the mirror one last time, and leaves.

When he parks in the lot in front of the bar & grill, you’ve already texted him.

I’m here a little early, got all green lights. Saved us a table near the back. See you soon!

It’s 4:52.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, closes his eyes as he lets it out gently, counting just like his therapist taught him. And again. And one more time, and finally that anxious tingling in his fingertips is muted a bit and his heart rate is only slightly above normal.

4:54.

He pulls the key from the ignition, gets out of the car, and makes his way to the door.

He finds you instantly.

You’re looking at him, and you’re smiling, and getting up from your chair as he approaches you. He barely even hears you greet him with all his blood rushing in his ears.

“Hi, Frankie,” you say, and your arms stretch out to invite him in for a hug.

He melts into your arms, his strained “hi” muffled in the crook of your neck. You squeeze him tight to you, and he hears you chuckle next to his ear.

“Knew you’d be even cuter in person.”

He huffs out a laugh as you release him, and the tips of his ears burn. But you’re smiling so sweetly at him that it eases his nervous bones.

“You look— can I call you handsome?”

Fuck, he thinks, so fucking awkward.

But your grin gets even wider.

“Only if you mean it.”

“I do,” he sighs, “like straight out of the cologne ads I’d rip out of my older sister’s magazines.”

He holds his breath as you react, the flutter of your eyelashes and the quivering of your lips and your laugh, bubbly and bright and soothing.

And he isn’t lying, not even a little. You’re rugged but soft, romantic and alluring, and he can’t take his eyes off you.

Even as you take your seats across from each other, and the waiter comes to take your drink orders, and as your gorgeous eyes flit across the pages of the menu. He can’t stop looking, watching your mouth curve into a smile as you talk about your week and ask him about his.

It’s pathetic, really, when the waiter asks if you’re ready to order, and you ask if he knows what he wants, because he hasn’t taken a single glance at the menu himself. He just hopes to god the dim lighting of the bar hides his flushed face and tells you to order first while he skims the menu.

He ends up ordering exactly what you got, and floundering when your hand finds his on the tabletop. He watches your fingers trace his own from his nails to his knuckles, and flips his palm up for you to rest your hand in his.

“I’m glad you came out with me tonight,” you tell him.

His eyes flicker up from your joined hands to your smiling face, and his nerves completely melt away from the heat of your gaze.

“Thank you for asking me,” he says.

“Would you have asked me, if I hadn’t asked you?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, and there’s a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Eventually,” he nods, “I mean… probably.”

Your eyebrows turn up in question, and he realizes how that sounds, jumping to backtrack.

“Not like that! I just mean— You know… You’re uh… well, I feel like you’re way out of my league. And so maybe I’m a little… intimidated.”

You smile, then, and sigh, and squeeze his hand as you call him a sweet boy. It makes the room feel like it’s a hundred degrees warmer, like Frankie’s clothes are suddenly two sizes too small.

“You aren’t so good at asking for what you want, are you?”

He laughs then, and shakes his head.

“Not really, no.”

“We’ll have to work on that, then.”

He clears his throat, and tugs at his collar with his free hand, breaking his gaze away from your face as you chuckle. He looks to find a waiter, or maybe an HVAC guy that could crank the AC to sub-zero temps for the remainder of the date.

No luck.

The rest of the date goes well. Surprisingly well. Frankie was worried that he’d be so out of practice that he’d freeze up, or say something stupid, or do something stupid, like knock over a drink or get food stuck in his teeth.

But you’re just so easy to talk to, to click with. Of course, you’re the one who facilitates the conversation, asking him about his favorites— movies, TV shows, music, time of year.

But he likes to think that he keeps the ball rolling well enough, is aware enough to remember to ask for some of your favorites— holiday, food, cocktails.

By the time the check comes, he hardly realizes you’ve both had empty plates in front of you for a while, talking and laughing through your meals like you’re just catching up with an old friend.

He protests when you grab the check, because of course he does. You’ve given him this incredible night, your comfortable company, your sweet smiles, and he feels like his offerings pale in comparison.

“I asked you out, Francisco,” you tease him, having just learned his full name a mere 20 minutes ago.

And he can’t really protest anymore, what with the shiver that’s tingling his spine and the goosebumps he tries to hide by gripping the chair underneath him. So he lets you pay, and thanks the waiter, and feels a rush of sadness when they come back with the check to sign. He really doesn’t want this evening to end.

The apprehension falls second to the sensation of your hand on the small of his back, leading him out to the parking lot.

“Where’s your car? I’ll walk you there,” you say, your thumb pressing a soothing circle into the base of his spine.

So he walks to his truck, a little self-conscious about the out-of-dateness of it, and how he didn’t think to run it through a car wash before this. But mostly he’s just nervous about ending this date on a good note.

“This is me,” he says, barely above a whisper, stopping at his driver’s side door.

You smile at him when he turns to you.

“Thanks again for coming out with me. I really did have a great time.”

This makes him smile through the unease, even as your hand drops from the small of his back.

“I did too. Would you uh… wanna hang out again soon?”

Your face lights up, and Frankie wants to capture it in a bottle and take it home with him. Keep it at his bedside to use as a nightlight.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

He chuckles and looks down to his feet like maybe it’ll redirect the flush in his face. You grab his hand, hanging by his side, and luckily you don’t make him speak again because he doesn’t know if he’s even able.

“I’d love to. Really.”

He smiles when he looks back up at you, only briefly, because you drop his hand and take a half step back.

“Call me about it.”

“Wait!”

Your brow arches at him, because you weren’t really going anywhere, but Frankie’s mind is running a thousand miles a second. He thinks back to all the times you’ve goaded him into asking for what he wants, so far, and how it hasn’t bit him in the rear yet.

“Can we— I… Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Your smile softens, and you take that little half-step back closer to him, and he feels all the tension leak from his shoulders.

“Yes, you can. Thank you for asking.”

He huffs, and smiles at you, and you’re reaching out to cup his jaw and grab his hip, and Frankie closes his eyes far too early, but it’s okay, because he feels your body heat and then your lips.

He can’t hold back the hum that rumbles from deep in his chest, or the way that he goes a little boneless in your grasp. He finds your forearm and squeezes it, and your bicep too, anything to ground himself as your lips part and your tongue teases the seam of his lips.

But then you’re pulling back, and it’s over far too quickly, and Frankie is also acutely aware of how tight his jeans feel. His face feels like it could melt right off of his skull.

“Call me soon, Pretty Boy.”

He nods, speechless, and watches you disappear between the cars of the parking lot. On his way home, he’s already fretting over whether or not he should text you tonight, and what kind of date he should plan, and if his breath was okay when you let him kiss you.

——

Frankie is perfect.

You’re still not sure how you found this diamond in the rough that is Tinder. You thank every god you know the name of that you got bored and opened the app on auto-pilot that night.

First of all, he’s so cute. He’s handsome in such a boyish way, with his dimples and unruly curls and patchy beard.

But he’s also so kind, the way he talks to you like it’s a privilege, the way he asks careful and curious questions about you like he truly wants to know the parts of you that are deeper than what’s on the surface.

Every simple text from him makes you smile, the way he always tries to make you laugh or cheer you up when you’re overwhelmed with the demands of life, as you often are.

And meeting him in person solidified everything you thought about him.

He seems like the textbook definition of a golden retriever boyfriend, if you ever get to call him that much. You hope you do.

In fact, it seems like it’s moving quite quickly in that direction when Frankie asks if you’d be down for a movie night. Some blockbuster he missed in theaters is finally streaming, and he thinks you’ll like it.

You don’t tell him that you didn’t miss it in theaters, or that you thought it was just okay.

You do tell him you’d be down to watch it, only if he came to your place, where the walls are thin and your surrounding neighbors all know you and watch out for you. Just in case he’s really good at acting like a sweet, safe guy.

You find yourself giddy as the weekend approaches, daydreaming at work about how the night will turn out. You tell him to come in comfy clothes, because you’ll be damned if you wear jeans in your own home, even for this sweet man. He doesn’t seem to mind one bit, that’s my favorite kind of outfit :) is his cute response.

You get everything ready the day of; your coziest blankets hang off the arms of your sofa, your fridge is stocked with fresh fruits and your pantry with candy and microwave popcorn and chips (I’ll eat whatever you get :) his answer to your questioning of his favorite movie snacks, of course.)

And then you sit around and wait, excited nerves coaxing your body to straighten things up that have been straightened up a million times already. When Frankie texts you his ETA, you park yourself on the couch by the door and stare at it until there’s a knock on it.

You may count to ten before you get up to open it, just to hide how eager you’ve been to see him again.

Your throat does get a little dry when you answer it to find him in a dark blue t-shirt that hugs his arms and light gray joggers that hug… Other things.

“Hi handsome,” you smile, pushing down all the nerves and the less-than-PG thoughts.

“Hi. I um… I brought these. I noticed you ordered them on our uh– well, at the restaurant, and I didn’t want to show up empty handed.”

You watch a flush break out on his face, and his neck, and wonder how far under his collar it actually spreads.

He’s holding up a six pack of your favorite beers, and he’s smiling so shyly, and you have to crowd in closer to him to press a kiss to his heated cheek.

“That’s so thoughtful, thank you.”

He giggles— giggles, Jesus Christ— and you take them from his hand to let him come through the door.

You set the beers in your fridge to let them chill as he kicks off his shoes. You watch him from the kitchen as he takes in your place with his pretty brown eyes.

“It’s really cozy in here,” he tells you as he fiddles with his own hands.

“Snuggle up, get comfy, I’ll bring us some snacks.”

He nods, so obedient, and hovers by the couch before settling on the seat in the middle.

Sly move, you think, and you can’t hide your stupid grin as you gather some snacks.

When you turn off all but one lamp and deposit the junk food on the coffee table, you notice he’s inched himself closer to the arm of the couch, like he was second-guessing himself. That just won’t do, you think, as you settle in right next to him, so close that the length of your body is pressed against his.

He doesn’t look at you, just stares at the Roku City scrolling across your flat screen. For a second you think he might be uncomfortable, but the way his breathing is uneven clues you in on his nerves.

You reach over him to grab the blanket in the arm of the couch, and you feel his muscles tense up when you press against him.

“Frankie?”

“Huh? Sorry, yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head and sighs, heavy and long, before looking at you.

“I’m so nervous.”

He smiles in spite of it, lopsided, dimples so cute that your lips quiver with the urge to kiss them.

You smile back, and drape the blanket over both of you, patting his leg through it.

“Nothing to be nervous about, Francisco.”

It gets a laugh out of him, a huff through his nose, and his shoulders lower the tiniest bit. You slowly reach up to cradle his jaw in your palm, careful not to spook this little baby deer of a man, but his face leans into your touch.

“If it helps, I think it’s really sweet that you’re nervous.”

“Thank you… I think?”

You laugh at him, and watch as your reaction makes his eyes brighten. You want to kiss him. You want to smooch the absolute daylights out of him, but there’s still 3 hours of a pretentious movie to watch, and there will be plenty of time, if he’s amenable.

So you just pinch his cheek before you let go, and try not to look so smug at the heat that consumes his face as you get the movie up and running.

Fifteen or so minutes into the film, Frankie has relaxed into the couch, though he’s stock-still beside you with his arms glued to his own sides. You just want to cuddle, at least. You’ve been thinking about it for weeks— getting his warm, solid but soft body against your own.

You’re certain he won’t be the one to initiate it, but that’s all fine and dandy. You rearrange yourself a bit, and sling an arm over his shoulders. He looks away from the movie towards you, and you give him a smile that must be comforting.

He sinks lower on the couch, and leans against you, his messy curls pressed against your shoulder while his arm drapes over your lap. You think you hear his satisfied hum under the dialogue of the characters, and you let your head rest against his.

This is nice. Frankie’s so warm against you, the most comforting weight all lax against your side. Your hand creeps up from his shoulder to his head, and his hair is so silky when you finally work up the gall to run your fingers through it.

You can feel the way it affects him when he shivers and presses even closer into you. You watch the movie like that for a while, snacks untouched, fingertips stroking his scalp as his soft curls slip through your digits. Every once in a while his head tilts to look up at you, piercing brown, and each time you smile back down and ruffle his hair.

It’s just after the first big conflict of the film when you feel Frankie shift against you. His arm moves in your lap, and you watch his thick fingers grab your thigh over the blanket.

It shocks you how such a simple gesture makes your temperature rise. You hum and let your nails scratch more firmly against his head. You can hear him gasp, and feel him move impossibly closer, like he’s trying to fuse the two of you together. You glance down at him, past the curls you’ve lost yourself in, and his eyes are closed. Further, the curve of his nose and pout of his lips, his chest that’s heaving with his excited breaths, you notice a suspicious tent in the blanket, and you don’t want to assume, but the context clues are all there.

Frankie is hard.

You can’t blame him. You’ve been aroused since you pressed his body against yours, a slow simmering underneath the surface that’s made you feel so comfortably warm and relaxed.

You shift, and you swear you hear a barely-there whine leave his lips. You move just enough so you can press your free hand to his chest. Under your palm, you can feel his heart beating, a pace that’s concerningly higher than appropriate for sitting and watching dialogue in a movie.

His head turns toward you, his hair slipping through the grasp of your knuckles. He looks up at you with those puppy eyes and his pupils are so dilated that it makes you take a deep breath. He turns his body toward you next and there it is the hard line of his cock pressed against the outside of your thigh. You see him shudder at the friction, watch his eyes grow droopy as they flicker down to glance at your lips.

“Can I kiss you again?”

And he asks so sweetly, voice a little hoarse from the silence, that you couldn’t dream of denying him.

“Yes, Frankie.”

His lips tremble until they meet yours, so soft and chaste, a stark contrast to his scruffy beard and mustache. His breath hitches; you can hear it and feel it. His chest shudders under your palm and pushes air out to gust against your cheeks. You feel his prick, too, twitching against your thigh as your tongue peeks out to tease his pouty bottom lip.

He pulls back so much quicker than you want him to, but it’s also such a reward to look at him this close. His lips shiny, his cheeks flushed, his irises completely usurped by his pupils. His mouth hangs open and you can’t help yourself as you slide your hand from his chest to his jaw and pull him into you once again.

A surprised little noise works its way out of his throat, and his hips jerk forward, and then he’s groaning as his cock throbs against the outside of your thigh. The noise makes that feeling in your gut draw deeper, lower, and you make one of your own in response.

His hand rests dutifully still on your thigh, but you can feel his fingers twitching as your taste buds rub against his– a friction that has no right to be as delicious as it is. You want him to feel you up, to touch you all over, to give in to the desire that’s blatantly pressed against you. You want to hear these noises he seems to be holding back, the whimpers that just barely make it past his vocal chords before he cuts them off.

You pull away this time. Pride swells in your chest as you look at what you’ve already done to him. His curls are even messier now that you’ve run your fingers through them over and over. His eyes are all glassy when he looks at you, pouty lips slick and red.

He sits so still, aside from his heaving breaths, like he’s waiting for your command.

“Tell me what you want, Frankie.”

His eyes widen and christ, if they get any wider they’re going to suck you in like a supermassive black hole.

“I– I’m okay, I like this.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He nods, trying to convince you, as he not-so-subtly pulls his erection free from its trap between his body and your thigh. His eyes cast downward, but you swiftly grab his chin in your hands to bring them back to you.

“Francisco,” you mumble, “ask for what you want.”

He gasps and bites his plush bottom lip, hard enough that there’s little indents when he opens his mouth. He shuts it again, and squirms against you, and finally opens it once more.

“I want you to touch me.”

His request comes out hardly above a whisper, all broken and breathy, and his gaze settles somewhere behind you.

“Is that all?”

He nods quickly, eyes snapping back to you.

“I swear– I just wanna feel your hands on me.”

Your smile widens as his face gets so serious, eyebrows knitting together.

“That’s good, that’s really good,” you mumble.

The shudder that visibly rolls through him is like a shockwave, sending every one of your nerve endings on-edge. You huff, an amazed little breath at this fucking guy in front of you, so responsive and timid and utterly fuckable.

“You like that? Like being good for me?”

He nods again, more apprehensive this time, but he can’t hold back his whine when his hips press against you. The possibilities of all the things you could do to this man stretch far and wide; it’s entirely overwhelming.

“Sweet boy,” you whisper, because he is, “c’mere.”

You pull the blanket off of you both, and Frankie reaches down to adjust himself so it isn’t so obvious, like you haven’t felt his cock twitching against you this entire time. It’s so endearing you think you could cry, but you’re much too turned on for sentiment at the moment. Instead, you guide him to straddle you, hands on his slender hips until his thighs cage your own.

For a moment you just watch as he sits patiently, obediently, waiting for your next words like his cock isn’t leaking a pretty little damp patch into his sweatpants. His chest heaves with every breath, and his tongue licks and bites at his swollen lips, and his eyes stay trained on your mouth in anticipation.

“So pretty,” you whisper.

His long eyelashes flutter at your compliment, and he turns his head to try and hide his reaction, but it doesn’t mask the way his prick twitches under gray fabric. Your hands find his waistband and tease the edge and you delight in the way he shivers.

You need to feel more, so you press your hands under his shirt and hum at what you find. A soft tummy and smooth skin that makes way for a small trail of wiry hairs. It’s all revealed to you a moment later when you hike his shirt higher, reach for pecs that are more solid than you imagined, and the smallest nipples you think you’ve ever had your hands on.

You look back up to his face for permission with a quirked brow, and he nods eagerly, grabbing the back of his collar to shed the material and bare himself and it’s so lovely. There’s so much tan skin, hardly any of it is obstructed by hair, just the errant freckle here or there. And you can’t help it, you have to lean forward and take one of his nipples into your mouth.

He gasps your name, but one of his hands finds the back of your head to keep you in place. You hum around the little nub, so small you have trouble getting your teeth to bite down on it, but you do and then he groans, his hips jerking in your hold on them.

“Is this how you wanted me to touch you?”

You lean your head back to look him in the eyes, to watch a pained expression flit over his face as he tries to come up with an answer he thinks you’ll like.

“I like this too,” he nods, “but I, um… fuck–”

He cuts himself off to hide his face in his hands. He is so cute and so sexy at the same time, it’s making your brain go haywire.

“Tell me, Frankie. Be good for me, Pretty Boy.”

He shifts on top of you as he looks up at your ceiling. You soothe your hands up and down his flanks and wait patiently for him to find the words.

He drops his hand from his face, fists clenching down by his sides, but he finally looks down at you and smiles, shy and sweet, just a hint of that dimple you adore rearing its head.

“Touch my cock? You got me so hard.”

You smile bright at his request, and nod, and press a kiss to his sternum.

“Anything you want,” you mumble, “just gotta ask. Just like that.”

He looks pretty proud of himself. There’s a twinkle in his eyes as you look up at him, and you take a playful bite of his skin and savor the gasp it coaxes out of him.

“Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Your fingers sneak under his waistband and his skin is so hot under there, searing. You only have a few moments to bask in the warmth before he stands up to remove his pants and briefs in one bashful move.

Jesus.

He’s so gorgeous, bare for you, vulnerable, excited. His foreskin is all pulled back, revealing a delicious looking string of pre-cum from his slit. You desperately want to lean forward and taste— but he didn’t ask for that, and you won’t give it to him unless he does.

Stunned a bit silent, you pat your lap, urging him to settle back over it. Much to your delight, he does, quick and obedient. An approving hum bubbles up out of your chest, and he preens as he sits on your thighs.

There’s a very wicked feeling in you as you stare at him, completely naked, while you haven’t shed a single layer of clothing. Control, and trust, and power. It’s overwhelming in a way that makes your lungs feel too inflated for your rib cage, to know you could take advantage of it, and to know you never ever would.

“Good boy,” you whisper, finally, testing those waters.

Frankie’s dick twitches between you two, and you huff and smile and wonder how something so perfect and precious has literally landed right in your lap.

He’s been more than good, and so with one hand you grab his hip to steady him, and the other takes his cock as gentle as ever. A sharp inhale inflates his chest as you stroke the smooth skin, a teasing, feather-light touch that makes his legs tense up in your lap. You watch him disappear and reappear through the loose circle of your hand, watch another clear droplet bead from his slit when you squeeze him tighter.

“Does this feel good?”

He’s watching your hand work when you look back up to his face. He nods, a jerky movement that seems to shake his entire body, and he’s so on-edge. You feel it in the way he shifts his weight on top of you.

“Words, Frankie,” you urge, a soft smile on your face.

“So good.”

You hum, taking in the way his eyes flutter open and closed, the way his adam’s apple pokes out when he leans his head back.

You reward him by speeding up your strokes. You squeeze his hip with your free hand, kneading at the soft flesh there, while you lean forward to press kisses into his virtually hairless chest. His skin is so hot it feels like it could burn you, flushed such a pretty color, just like you knew it would be.

He whines when you gather up more pre cum with your thumb and gently massage it into his frenulum. You look up to find him staring down at you with glassy eyes, bottom lip tucked tight between his teeth.

“Can we kiss more?”

His voice is breathy, and you nod, and a fresh wave of arousal flushed through your system when his lips eagerly meet yours.

It’s sloppier, this time. Noisier, too, as you tighten your grip on his cock and begin to properly work your hand up and down his length. You steal his breath and his noises straight from his lungs, feel every shudder he pushes out when you twist your wrist just right or squeeze tighter.

His hips start to meet your thrusts, rutting into your hand, such a desperate little thing on top of you, all for you. You want to encourage him to take his pleasure from you, and so you slip your hand back from his waist, find the perfectly pert globe of his ass with your palm.

“Haa— shit.”

His words muffle into your kiss as his hips stutter in rhythm and you lean forward to smirk into the bald patch of his beard.

“Yeah?”

A gasp wrecks through his heaving chest as he nods.

“Please, fuck— please.”

You hum into his jaw and squeeze his cock and his ass respectively.

“Please what, Pretty Boy?”

He leans back. You watch him squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head from left to right.

“Tell me what you want, Frankie. Know you can.”

A big gulp of air, and then he opens his eyes to look at you, then blinks them shut again as his head lolls back in his shoulders.

“Touch me there. I— I can’t—”

“Shhh,” you take mercy on him, bringing your hand up from his backside to cradle his jaw in your palm. He tilts his head into your touch and opens his eyes.

“I got you, sweet boy,” you remind him.

He nods in understanding, shifting to kiss the heel of your palm. You let him rest his lips there as he catches his breath, feel them quivering every other upstroke of your hand on his prick.

But as he makes to move, you hold his jaw steady in your hand. His eyes flicker back to your face, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, if he can tell how beside yourself you really are.

Slowly, so he can pull away if he wants, you trace the pad of your middle finger along the seam of his lips. You’re awestruck at how they instantly fall open for you, greedy, something you’re definitely looking forward to exploring more later.

For now, you watch with hooded eyes as he takes it into his mouth, tongue curling and lapping at it. You briefly wonder if fingers are erogenous zones, beyond turned on at how warm and wet the inside of his mouth feels, how he suckles and releases, bobs his head over and over until you snap out of it.

“Good boy. Fucking perfect,” you sigh.

He gets a cocky little goofy grin on his face at the praise, but his prick twitches against your grasp. You squeeze it for good measure, and more of his pre-cum dribbles over your knuckles.

You lean into him again, and he leans into you, holding each other up. Your mouth finds his pebbled nipple once again as his prick drags across your shirt and saturates it. He hisses at the friction, then gasps when your hand grabs his ass cheek again.

You pull it as best as you can with one hand. It isn’t too difficult with how it fits so perfectly round in your palm. You squeeze it, massage it, note how the littlest hint of peach fuzz feels against your clammy hand. You wonder how it would feel under your tongue, too, how it would taste, how the fatty flesh would feel between your teeth.

His hips stutter forward when your finger, slick with his saliva, strokes the very top of his crack. And you don’t mean to tease too much, but his jerky movements and satisfied sounds when you do are like music to your ears.

Finally you find his hole, fluttering around nothing, so little and tight, all for you.

“Ohmygod.”

Frankie sounds pained, so much so that you look up from nuzzling his chest to watch his face. His brows are drawn tight with how his eyes are squeezed shut, and his mouth is hung open, slick with a little drool around the corners of his lips. Without context, maybe he would look pained, too, but the way his cock throbs and dribbles in your hand paints a completely different picture.

And what a pretty picture he is, gulping for air above you, thrusting his hips back into your finger and forward through your fist, like he’s so out of his mind that he can’t even make it up.

You apply more pressure to his impossibly tight pucker and sink your teeth into his skin at the way he whines for you. You do it again, and again, a patient little rhythm until it relaxes and the very tip of your finger slips into his warmth.

He groans, clenching tight around you.

“Okay, Frankie?”

He laughs, a little puff of air, and you feel it where you’re inside him.

“Gonna make me come,” he chokes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, don’t— fuck— please don’t stop.”

You hum into his chest, squeeze your hand tighter around his prick as you speed up your strokes. He’s groaning now, deep and low and constant, like he couldn’t hold it back if he tried.

You wiggle your finger against his rim, tugging him open for you, toying with the elastic muscle. He’s so pliable everywhere, opening up to you, happily taking what you give him.

In a stiff moment you think he isn’t into it, because he freezes up and goes silent. You make to slip out of him, but his warmth just drags you in.

And then his cock jumps in your grasp, and his hole clamps around your finger as he gasps your name, and he’s coming.

He shakes with it as he soaks your shirt and drips over your hand. You stroke him through it and marvel at the way he feels in your grasp and around you, violent waves of pleasure that you can sense where you touch him.

You look up to watch him tremble through it and he’s gorgeous. Sweat drips from his messy curls at his temple and paints a glimmer down his neck, all pulled taught as his head hangs back. His chest tastes salty under your tongue where it heaves, you can’t get enough of the flavor, or the wicked beating of his heart under your lips.

And his noises, fucking delicious, wrung-out curses that just keep tumbling from his red lips. His stomach trembles with his shaky breaths, and he sounds so wrecked as the last bit of his orgasm tricked down the back of your hand.

His whispered chants of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” slow to a stop just as his joints unlock and his muscles relax. You take it as a sign to loosen your grip on his spent cock and carefully slip your finger back out of him. It earns you one last whimper before he sags into you, a boneless little heap in your lap.

You unhand him to hold him against you, wipe your hand on the discarded blanket beside you so you can stroke his back with one hand and his fuzzy little buttcheek with the other.

You tell him how good he was for you, how pretty he is when he comes, how much you loved getting to do that to him.

It takes a while for him to catch his breath, and his huffs tickle that sensitive spot on your neck just below your ear.

“Holy shit,” he sighs.

You nod, because he’s correct. Holy shit, indeed.

His voice is a little hoarse, and you’re conflicted. You want to hold him as long as he’ll let you, but you know you should get him some water and at least a towel.

You shift under him and he whimpers, wraps his arms tighter around your shoulders.

There goes that idea.

You hold him closer, and smirk at the contented sigh that leaves him.

“I think… I think I just imprinted on you.”

It startles a laugh out of you, and he chuckles too, a tiny happy sound against your collar bone. You turn to kiss his heated cheek, and he lets you, before he turns his own head to fuse his lips to yours.

This kiss is lazy, unhurried, and the adrenaline from making him fall apart is slowly making way for more of that sticky-sweet arousal from earlier.

“I wanna make you come,” he mumbles against your lips.

You shake your head, but kiss him some more, as to not give him the wrong idea.

“Another night, Pretty Boy.”

He makes a disappointed sound, but continues to kiss you until you have to part for air. His brow is turned upward in question when you pull away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes his question.

“Not a single thing, Frankie. Just wanted to take care of you tonight.”

His shoulders relax at that, but his face is still confused. It’s a cute look on him, with his pouty lips and big brown eyes.

“You’d tell me right? If I made you uncomfortable? You can tell me. I don’t wanna upset you.”

And christ, you feel your heart melting and oozing through your rib cage at how earnest his voice is.

“I promise, I’ll tell you.”

That seems to quell his nerves, as he sinks back into you again with his sweaty curls pressed against your shoulder.

You’re sticky in more ways than one, and Frankie’s only getting heavier in your lap the sleepier he gets, but a giggle bubbles up out of you when you realize you’ve never been more comfortable than you are right now.

Frankie huffs in response, and you press him even tighter against you.

You don’t know where one-and-a-half dates and one sickeningly hot orgasm places the two of you. And maybe it’s greedy to think about with a handsome, sweet man in your arms, but you can’t push down the overwhelming feeling of wanting more.

next part

#x reader #sub! frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #nb reader #gender-fluid reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #frankie morales smut #triple frontier fanfiction

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drtyelvisfantasy · 1 year

Text

Coney Island Baby🛼🍦 ౨ৎ

Parings: Elvis Presley x reader

*50s Elvis

Summary: You and Elvis spend a romantic night at Coney Island. With thrilling rides, carnival games, and beautiful beach sunset. With your love blossoming under the Coney Island lights

Song for fic: Coney Island Baby- The Excellents

౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the boardwalk, you and Elvis strolled hand in hand, your laughter intertwined with the sounds of crashing waves and bustling crowds. The air was filled with a contagious energy, the scent of cotton candy and salty sea breeze, as the two of you made your way through the vibrant Coney Island.

"Y'know, darlin', I've always wanted to take someone special to Coney Island," Elvis grinned, his charming blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "And I can't think of anyone more special than you."

Heat rushed up to your checks as you blushed, feeling your heart flutter at the sincere sweetness in Elvis's voice. "I'm so lucky to be here with you, Elvis. It's like a dream come true."

Elvis chuckled, his voice filled with genuine affection. "Well, let's make this dream unforgettable, sugar."

You and Elvis approached a colorful booth, adorned with various stuffed animals and prizes that seemed almost impossible to win. You had your eye on a particular stuffed bear, the bear was huge and was pink with white hearts. You begged Elvis to win it for you, you even threatened him with tears just to get the stuffed bear. Elvis confidently stepped up, ready to take on the challenge. He picked up a few rings and aimed them at the bottles, his concentration evident on his face.

With each successful toss, you clapped and cheered, your eyes shining with pride for your talented boyfriend. Elvis's determination paid off as he won a large pink and white teddy bear, which he immediately presented it two you with a playful wink.

"Here you go, sweetheart," Elvis chuckled, holding out the bear. "Now you'll always have something to remind you of this magical night."

You hugged the teddy bear tightly, grateful for the thoughtful gesture. "Thank you, Elvis. I'll cherish it forever."

With prizes in hand, the two of you meandered through the park, enjoying thrilling rides and indulging in delicious carnival snacks. You couldn't help but giggle as Elvis challenged you to a friendly water gun game, your laughters echoing through the air as the two playfully sprayed each other.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, Elvis led you towards the sandy beach. The two found a cozy spot and settled down, your toes buried in the soft sand. Elvis wrapped his arm around the your shoulders, pulling you close as the both of you gazed out at the breathtaking view.

"Even with all the fame and fortune, moments like these with you are what truly matters," Elvis murmured, his voice filled with vulnerability. "Just being able to share these simple, beautiful moments—it's what makes life worth living."

You snuggled closer, resting your head on Elvis's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I feel the same way, Elvis. It's the genuine connection we have that makes everything else fade away."

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipped lower, casting a radiant glow that painted the world in warm hues. It was in these quiet moments that your love truly flourished, an unspoken understanding and affection binding the two of you together.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, Elvis pressed a tender kiss against your forehead. "I love you, darlin'. Thank you for being a part of my life."

Your heart swelled with love, your voice filled with emotion. "I love you too, Elvis. Thank you for showing me a love I never thought possible."

With the backdrop of Coney Island's twinkling lights and the rhythmic sound of the waves, the both of you continued to revel in each other's presence, cherishing the memories you both had created on this enchanting date.

Together, you both knew that no matter what the future held, your love would always be as timeless as the memories you shared under the Coney Island lights.

#elvis presley x reader #austin butler x reader #elvis presley fluff #elvis presley #austin butler #50s elvis #elvis presley x you #70s elvis #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler fluff

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elvisabutler · 1 year

Text

teddy bear

summary: you and elvis enjoying a morning wake up routine. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t just for a brief implication of future and past sexual activities pairing: big daddy elvis presley x plus sized female reader ( but honestly, can be read gender neutral, but i mention bosoms ) word count: 924 warnings: big daddy elvis. mentions of names regarding weight ( pig, cow, etc ). use of the word fluffy instead of fat. author’s note: i'm not actually tagging anyone in this because it's so self indulgent on my part that i'm just doing the normal tumblr tags and running away because i just want to wake up to big daddy and be each other's damn teddy bears. because listen i weigh more than elvis did at his death supposedly and the man can still crush me with his half a damn foot on my ass. also the pics in the moodboard are not meant to betray skin color of the reader. only the size.

There's something ironic you think about how once upon a time when Elvis was svelte with that Southern good ol boy charm he sang about wanting to be your teddy bear. The you at that time might have been every female in the entire world but nowadays it's mostly just you. Mostly just you and him in bed in Las Vegas or on the Lisa Marie or any number of places. It's mostly just you and him and his need to stay up contrasting with your scandalous love affair with sleep. One night you realized the trick, or at least a trick to get your fiance to sleep was to sing that song at him. You're not him when it comes to being a vocal powerhouse, things sounding raspier than they have any right to but it gets the job done. Sometimes it ends in a roll among your shared sheets but more and more it just ends in him snuggling up to your ample bosom and listening to your heart beat a steady thump thump thump for the man you love. Other nights he lulls you to sleep with a whispered version of the song, smirking as he tells you to put a chain around his neck before you swat him on his behind that puts your own to shame sometimes. Those nights end with your head on his chest, playing with his chest hair as you listen to the steady thump thump thump of his heart that beats only for you and his daughter.

The thing is these nights always have to end. The two of you can't stay in a cocoon of heartbeats and warm blankets. He has to get ready to sing his heart out and you have to do your own thing. You're usually the one who wakes up first, arms and legs tangled together with a man who's about as fluffy- a term you will always use to describe him because enough people call him fat- as you are, cushioned from the world and every horror that might await the pair of you. Every problem, every set of words designed to injure both you and him are kept at bay when you stay in the bed.

You feel his eyes and hear the subtle uptick in his heartbeat that signals that he's awake before you hear the growl of his early morning voice. "Too early to be up, darlin'. Go back t' sleep."

A laugh leaves your lips. It's a gruff sort of thing but it makes Elvis smile hearing it when he first wakes up. It reminds him who's here on his chest. It reminds him who helps him sleep at night and who helps him get up in the morning when things ache. "if I didn't see the sun shining brightly even though the curtains I'd believe you, baby. Time to get up. We have a lot of things to do. Last day before we can head to Graceland. Gotta give them a good show, Elvis."

His eyes, heavy and lidded with sleep widen just a bit before he pulls you closer to him, clinging to the last vestiges of sleep and relaxation with a world that's just you and him. "Could cancel. Wouldn't be the first time."

You know unless Elvis truly can't perform that he would never cancel a date and yet you have to pull your head back from him a little and raise your eyebrow at the comment. "You wouldn't. Not after the last cancelled show."

The last cancelled show where the press had ripped him to shreds and where pictures of the two of you were plastered across the papers painting him as a portly pig and you as his little cow. Nevermind that you're certain your fiance could snap a number of men in half from his strength that hid underneath the extra padding. The extra fluff for you to kiss and squeeze. You feel Elvis's large hand against the back of your neck and you can't help but mirror the movement, placing your own hand on the back of his neck. You think he's going in for a proper kiss but he just nuzzles your nose. It makes you scrunch up your face before you force yourself to roll on top of him, straddling his thick thighs between your own thick thighs. His groan has you giggling a little sinisterly.

"I wouldn't, but wit' ya straddlin' me like 'm a prize bull, ain't sure I got a choice." His hands move to cup your ass and squeeze before pulling you somehow closer. "Think maybe ya might be able to give me the right incentive."

Your answer is a solemn nod while you try and keep an eye on Elvis's body, trying to see just what he has planned only to realize you don't even feel his thighs flexing. It allows you to relax. "That so, you want to-" Your words get cut off with a yelp as Elvis manages to gracefully flip the two of you, his body pressing down against you, pushing you into the bed as much as he can. You're not like some of his other girlfriends but it almost makes the way your own weight bends and shrinks when presented with his own that makes his body pressed up against yours. Your hips buck up only to be met with his solid weight that refuses to move.

"Ten more minutes 'n 'll show ya."

You don't leave the room for another half an hour.

#big daddy elvis #elvis presely #elvis presley x reader #big daddy elvis fanfiction #elvis x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fluff #ally writes

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aliypop · 5 months

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The Girl of My Best Friend

Word Count: 2,793

Writers Note: This idea came to me from a video and a song

Warning: None

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: July 1956 Biloxi Mississippi Elvis and June invite Cecelia and Red West to a nice summer vacation. Still, things go left when Cecelia can't sleep and Elvis can't stop thinking of Cecelia.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

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@poeandmoonknightgirl

July 1956 Biloxi, Mississippi

"Cece, we're not listenin to me on the radio!" Elvis groaned. "Okay, then we'll listen to..." She flipped the station as Elvis heard her singing Why Do Fools Fall in Love, "Elvis Aaron Presley, you change that darned thing now!" She said with gritted teeth. Red was in the back sleep as the two kept fighting over the radio,

"Pat Boone?"

"Elvis, I'd shoot myself in the head before I listen to Boone..." The two laughed as they finally settled on "Ready, Teddy?"

"Now we're talkin'," Elvis smirked as he kept his eyes on the road. Cecelia had been looking out the window as she smiled, taking a whiff of the Mississippi air. It had been a while since she had a vacation, and with her rising fame along with Elvis, it was hard, but with some convincing, her mother agreed. Driving through Tupelo, Cecelia pointed out the different Landmarks she remembered Elvis ranting about, "That's the hardware store, right?" She asked as Elvis nodded,

"Mhmm and my mama used to work right over there..." He smiled,

"And... That's the library." She grinned,

"And over there is the Jr. High," He winked, "Hey, I bet you're the same size too from Jr. High," Elvis said as Cecelia rolled her eyes,

"I will push you out of this car..." She mumbled,

"What was that?"

"It seems we're not too far..." Biloxi was only four hours away, and as Cecelia chatted up a storm, she could slowly feel her social engine revving out, yawning as she began to nod off in mid-conversation, "And then... the pineapple said to the p-p-pickle..."

"Cece, are you okay?"

"Mhmm, as I was saying, the cat then..." He heard her snore as her lids closed. Elvis found her cute when she got all sleepy like that, but they were friends and nothing more, and he was dating June, a girl he loved dearly, or so he thought.

When they got to Biloxi, June met Elvis at his car. Excited to see him, she kissed him as he kissed her back, "Good, you made it safely." She giggled as Elvis smiled, "Told you I would," He chuckled as Red woke up and helped with the bags, "Red." She hugged him as Cecelia woke up, "El~" Elvis turned to face her as June gasped,

"Is that..."

"Cecelia Valmos," She got out of the car, "I don't usually look this confused. I uhm woke up, which someone was supposed to tell me we made it..." Elvis blushed,

"I didn't wanna wake you..." He mumbled,

"I know," She smiled as she looked at June. She was beautiful and radiant, everything a man could want in a woman, but a pit in her stomach made her melancholic and want someone she loved so dearly. But she couldn't have.

"Would you two like to join us for dinner?" June asked,

"We'd love to." Red smiled as Cecelia sighed,

"I'm sure Cil wants to rest a little," Elvis smiled, trying to help as she nodded. Red glanced at Elvis as Cecelia took a deep breath,

"We'll get changed and meet you for dinner."

"RED WHAT WAS THAT!" Cecelia sighed as Red looked at her, "Being nice, honey," He smiled, taking her hand. Red was a nice guy, but he wasn't Elvis. "Of course..." She smiled, "That's why you're so sweet." Cecelia kissed his cheek,

"Cecelia seems nice," June smiled as Elvis tidied up for dinner, "She is, she's. Uh, my best friend." He blushed as he thought about the tour he did with her. To say that Elvis liked Cecelia was an understatement. He was in love with her, but she was Red's girl, and friends don't steal each other's girl, at least he told himself.

"You two met at the Hayride, right?"

"Right," Elvis smiled, "She was the most electrifying person I'd ever seen, and her guitar playin'," He swooned, "She's amazing," He laughed it off as June was getting a little suspicious,

"I see... Well, you look amazing tonight." She smiled, walking downstairs to the dining room.

"I hope we're not late..." Cecelia said, walking in with her hair curled and light makeup on. Elvis was speechless, but he noticed how Red was looking at her, and all he could say was, "You look good, kid." Cecelia nodded as she looked at him, "You too," Red snaked his arms around her hips as she giggled, "Sweetheart!" Red kissed her cheek as Elvis fumed with envy, "Darlin?" June smiled as Elvis broke from his gaze on Cecelia, "Right, dinner..." He sighed, sitting down. The couples chatted away as they ate, Elvis stealing a glance at Cecelia, and she'd steal one back. Cecelia had been close friends with Elvis for a while now. And Cecelia had developed feelings for him. \. She never told him how she felt. However, when he looked closely at her. It was as if he had felt the same way for her as well,

"June, Red, I need some air, if you will..." Cecelia smiled, excusing herself,

"Of course, are you okay?" June asked,

"I'm fine, I just feel a little tired," She smiled, walking out as she went through a trail of woods to catch her breath, "I'll go check on her," Elvis said as June nodded. Elvis had found her in the woods, surrounded by summer fireflies, as she huffed. He didn't want to scare her. But he did want to check on her.

"El?"

Elvis smiled as he heard her call him El. He took her hands in his as he looked into her eyes, watching the twinkle in them. "El, What are you doing..." She asked, looking away from him. "I came to check on you..." He said, still holding her hand as he began to lean in, "Elvis, I'm fine, really..." She could feel herself leaning in.

"There you two are!" June said as Elvis broke away from Cecelia. Elvis had almost crossed a line with his best friend, but there was June to anchor him back,

"I was tellin' Cece how worried I was for her."

"Yeah, he's a great friend." She chuckled,

"I see... Well, I'm going to bed if you wanna join..." June winked at Elvis as Cecelia groaned. Elvis wanted to tell Cecelia how he was feeling. But he didn't want to upset June, not during their planned vacation,

"I'll uh join ya, honey," Elvis said,

"Don't let the song bugs bite." She joked as Elvis laughed. He always did enjoy her humor, "Night, Cece," He waved, watching her walk away feeling relieved and dissatisfied. When she walked back to her room, Red was sitting there waiting for her. He didn't want to sleep until he talked to her,

"So... What's going on between you and E?"

"Nothing Red... We're just friends is all..." she smiled rolling up her hair, "Nothing more, nothing less..." Cecelia sighed as she then put on her pajamas,

"So is Cecelia okay?" June asked as Elvis was tying up his pajama pants and getting ready for bed,

"Yeah she's okay, she gets anxious sometimes and..." He sighed, "Needs air, which is odd 'cause she's so good on stage, but she's got stress an' all that."

"I see," June got into bed as Elvis snuggled up, wishing it was Cecelia, though he was content with June, or was he,

"You sure you're okay, I mean you and Elvis have been actin' weird since the car ride..."

"Red..." She sighed,

"I wanted to make sure you're okay is all..." Cecelia kissed Red as she held onto him, "Baby... I'm yours, you know that." Cecelia smiled, knowing she was thinking about his friend and not him. Red kissed her back, letting himself get lost in her embrace. Even though Cecelia had told him she was his, he still felt that she was thinking of someone else. When he looked into her eyes, he had hoped he saw a sparkle and not the emptiness of an unfulfillable void,

"What now Red..."

"I guess, I'm overthinking, I mean you and E have been close and I can't help but wonder do you think about him like most girls do?" He asked waiting for her reaction, "THERE'S NOTHING..." She snapped, "Nothing at all... I love you and I love being with you."

June was asleep, but Elvis heard her, and his heart sank, Red wanted to believe her, but he had his doubts,

"I worry I'm not enough for you..."

"You are enough, you Red-haired minx you..." She laughed, crawling on top of him,

"I promised I'd put out when we got here, so..."

"We're gonna play some house..." Red smirked, kissing her neck as she began to whimper,

"Yeah, baby..." He kissed her neck again, "Right there~" She moaned,

"Elvis, yes~"

Red was unaware she moaned his name. He knew she was enjoying their time together. Kissing her neck again, he felt her body respond to his touch. He couldn't help but notice her heavy breathing as he kept going. Elvis may have been his best friend, but he knew Elvis couldn't please Cecelia the way he thought he could. As the morning came, Cecelia and Elvis set out to town for a small adventure,

"So you and Red got a little uh... handsy huh?" Elvis asked, there was a jealous tone in his voice, but Cecelia chose to ignore it, "If you call kissin' stewing the cabbage then I guess." She laughed a little, Elvis glanced at her relaxed form as the radio played, "Well, you know Red's a great guy," Red wasn't Elvis, but he was great,

"Yeah, Elvis, I know..."

"Elvis? Somethings wrong..."

"Not it's not..." Cecelia looked away from him,

"Yeah, it is. You only call me Elvis when I'm in deep shit. Or you're stressed, so Cece..." Cecelia couldn't look at him and tell him that she was in love and wanted so badly to kiss him,

"Nothing's wrong, I assure you." Elvis took his pointer finger and cradled it under her chin to make her look at him,

"Look me in the eyes and say that then,"

"I'm fine..." She winked. Elvis laughed, knowing she was lying, but for her sake, he'd "believe" it.

"Well, we were gonna go boat ridin' if you wanna come."

"You and June?"

"Yeah..."

"I don't know, I've got songs to write and-"

"Cecelia Shanel Valmos..." He crinkled up his nose as she looked at him,

"Yes..."

"No work..." He pretended to scold her as she laughed, "Oh whatever, just come on so we can get the bait for you to go fishin'." She leaned against him as he opened her door for her,

"Thank you, El,"

"Anything for you Cece..." He took her hand and held it, the two walked around the tackle shop as she looked at the fishing gear, Cecelia had enjoyed fishing, however, it was removing the fish that creeped her out.

"Hey, Cece catch!" Opening her hands she felt something slimy and slithery in her palm as she dropped it and got grossed out,

"ELVIS!!!!"

"It's just a worm!" His infectious laughter filled up the shop,

"You know I don't like bugs!"

"You like fireflies..."

"They're pretty bugs..." She huffed,

"Mhmm..." Elvis smirked as he took her hand. Cecelia blushed at the touch as he threw another worm at her, "ELVIS STOP!!!!" She ran towards a tree outside the shop as he pinned her against it, his body pressed against hers as he had a twinkle in his eye,

"What, Cece?"

"We should go check on Red... and June," She smiled, trying to catch her breath, "Yeah, we better get back. Don't wanna leave 'em long." He smiled as he took her hand,

"And no more worms..." She mumbled, "Of course not..." He began to laugh, and as the two began to drive back, Red and June were suspicious when they had arrived back. Elvis, however, was acting as if he didn't pin you up against a tree, but Cecelia couldn't stop thinking about how close they were. Or his fragrance and how the sweat on his nose was dropping perfectly on his top lip.

"Red!" Cecelia blushed as he looked over,

"Did somethin' happen while you two were away?" Red asked,

"What, no! Elvis chased me with a worm, is all," She chuckled as he nodded, "Yeah, that sounds like E, but it's a worm. Why was he chasing you?"

"He thought it was funny," She shrugged, tying her shirt up, and rolling her jeans up.

"Doesn't explain why you're all red in the face, though," He smirked, "You were blushing when you walked up..."

"Red... It's hot and sunny, and I've got some Cherokee in me, so ..." She sighed, walking down towards the lake. "Yeah, the sun is hot today." He kept walking.

Elvis was sitting by the lake as June approached him. He had been thinking about earlier with Cecelia, but he soon stopped when he heard June ask, "Are you okay?" she sat next to him, his sailor hat on her head, "Yeah... I'm fine, just thinkin..." He responded, trying to play it cool.

"About?"

"Nothing... Just things I got to figure out..." He said, putting a worm on the pole, "Well, I see Cece and Red are heading down," She smiled, seeing them laughing and being playful, Elvis had begun to look away as he noticed her mid-drift showing from under her tied shirt, his mind was replaying how he had pinned her up against a tree, his heart racing as he heard, "You ready El!" She smirked as he grabbed his and June's pole to where they'd be fishing,

As they began to fish, Cecelia felt something tugging on her pole as she tried to reel it in. As Red tried to come to her recuse, in came Elvis "Got somethin' I see?" His hand reached for her waist as he helped her reel it in, she could smell the sweat and see the tan forming on his skin as she bit her lip,

"Thanks..."

"No problem, look at the size of that thing Red! June! Look at it!" He exclaimed the two came over to look as he stopped to glance at her mid-drift, "Mhmm... My eyes are up here..." She mumbled as he blushed,

"ELVIS!" June called for him to come over, Elvis grumbled a little as Cecelia laughed,

"Go talk to your girlfriend..." Cecelia smirked as she walked to Red, Red smiled back, he could tell something was going on from the way she looked at him, but then again it was hot and he was sweaty,

"Say we should swim, it'll cool us off."

"Right now?" Red asked, looking at June as she nodded, Cecelia smirked, "Good thing I have my bathing suit on under this!" She smiled as Red and Elvis smirked,

"Turn around..." She sighed, both she and June stripping out of their clothes, Cecelia was wearing a pink bikini June was wearing one with stripes,

"Elvis! " Cecelia laughed splashing him as June joined in, Red splashing them both back, "Take that boys against girls!" He smirked as they chuckled. When the sun began to set they got out of the lake as Red and June were walking back, Cecelia was shivering, "You poor thing, Elvis she cold. come with me to get towels," June said to Red. The moment the two had left, the moment they noticed they were alone,

"Thanks for making me take a vacation..." She walked further up.

"Of course..." Elvis smiled. He wanted to kiss her and pull her close to him, but he couldn't. He was with June, and he loved June.

"El..." She sneezed,

"You're gonna catch a cold like that," He pulled her in close for a hug, and Cecelia felt his body heat as she snuggled into it,

"You're so warm..."

"See, you two are warm..."

"RED!" Red rolled his eyes. It was obvious that something was going on, but he didn't know what. But today, they were touching and laughing and flirting. However, Red pushed it aside and came toward them.

"Well, goodnight El..." Cecelia smiled,

"Good night, Cece..."

"Red..." Cecelia said, cuddling up to him,

"What..."

"What's wrong..."

"Nothing..." He rolled his eyes at her,

"Red..."

"WHAT!"

"Nothing... Good night, I guess..."

"Wait..."

"What..." Cecelia sighed. She saw a glimpse of Elvis leaving to take a shower, "Is something going on between you and Elvis..." He asked, "The two of you are acting... Funny, and I'm noticing small things..."

"For heaven's sake, we're best friends, Red!"

"I know that. I'm not talking about being friends. I mean, are you two..."

"Are we what?"

"Have you two been... y'know..."

"Red, just say it..."

"Have you two been sleeping together..."

Should I Make Chapter 2?

#oc #fanfiction #new stuff #new #elvis presley #romance #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #1950s elvis #cecelia valmos #elvis x poc oc #could be a series don't know yet #red west #Spotify

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kiankiwi · 5 months

Text

Pretty Man

(Author's note: An idea from a dream I had that I couldn't get out of my head. I hope you like it!)

****

It was about 5 in the evening.

You watched in confusion as your Mommy ran around getting things ready and packing your special bag, wondering what was going on.

You were only a little over a year old, and didn��t understand why grownups always seemed to be in a hurry, or needed everything to “look nice”; Mommy had given you an early bath and even dressed you up in one of your favorite dresses.

From what you gathered, Mommy was supposed to go to someplace called the “International” with Auntie Elaine (your godmother and her closest friend) to see somebody called “Elvis Presley” tonight, but your babysitter had canceled at the last minute saying they were sick. Not wanting to miss the show, Mommy had decided to bring you and try her best to keep you occupied; she figured the seats were close to the back anyway, so if you needed to be fed or changed, she could step out and take care of you. She just hoped you wouldn’t cause too much of a ruckus; you’d learned to walk a month ago, and you loved running around and getting into everything.

You didn’t entirely understand why Mommy liked this “Elvis” person so much, but Mommy played his music in the car all the time, and you’d seen him on TV a few times when Mommy pointed him out to you. He sung good, and he had a pretty smile, and he was always dressed in such pretty outfits that sparkled, so (in your little mind) he had to be trustworthy. You always called him the “pwetty man” (meaning pretty man; you couldn’t talk much yet and words often came out jumbled) much to Mommy’s amusement.

You sat by the door, playing with your favorite stuffed bunny as you listened to Mommy and Auntie Elaine talk, only really listening to snippets of the conversation.

“Are you sure you want to bring her? You know how energetic she gets; I mean, I don’t mind staying home if you still want to go since this was your idea.”

“Lanie, are you kidding? We waited months to get these tickets; I’m not making you waste yours to stay home and look after Y/N. She’ll be fine; I’ve got a bunch of things to keep her busy. We just need to keep a close eye on her and make sure she doesn’t run off anywhere, and we should be fine.”

“Well…all right, I trust you. Let’s go; we don’t want to hit traffic.”

****

Surprisingly, you’d gotten through the first half of the show okay; once Elvis came out, you were utterly focused on him, and you’d even giggled and clapped when he sang some of the songs you recognized like “Teddy Bear” and “Devil in Disguise”.

It was only when he got to “Love Me Tender” that there started to be a problem. You saw him go out and kiss several women in the audience, and, being a baby, you loved getting kisses from everyone. So you tried to run down to the front to get a kiss, only for Mommy to scoop you up before you even got a few steps, telling you not to run off. You whined and protested in your own way, causing a few stares, causing Mommy to take you out for a few minutes and warn that you’d go home if you didn’t start behaving. By the time she took you back in, the song was over, which left you seriously miffed. You wanted that kiss so badly!

After a few minutes, Elvis started chatting with the audience, and Mommy asked Elaine if she’d watch you for a bit while she went to the bathroom. Elaine agreed, giving you a sheet of paper and some crayons to keep you occupied.

You stayed busy scribbling for a bit, but then noticed something; Auntie Elaine had turned her back to you to start talking to someone else. Perfect; no one was watching you. Now was your chance to get to the “pretty man” and get the precious kiss you’d missed out on.

Slipping down from the chair, you rushed through the audience, treating them like an obstacle course and bumping into several people’s legs as you moved through the crowd as fast as your little legs could carry you.

Once you made your way to the stage, a large man tried to stop you by standing in front of you with his arms out, saying “Hey, little lady, you don’t belong in here! Go find your mommy.” But you just giggled and ran right between his legs, climbing the steps that led to the stage.

Some of the ladies in the audience started laughing and pointing at you as you ran towards Elvis on the stage; he didn’t notice at first since he was in the middle of telling a funny story to the audience and figured they were just laughing at his jokes.

It was only when you grabbed and hugged his leg that he realized someone else was there with him. At first, he instinctually moved to shake you off, but when he looked down and realized a baby girl was hugging his leg, his demeanor immediately softened. It was just a kid; she wasn’t gonna hurt him.

“So…aw, hello there!” He laughed as you hugged his leg. “Where did you come from, honey? You’re not really supposed to be up here, you know.” He laughed as he lifted you into his arms, balancing you on his hip. “What you want, baby?”

You tried your best to look as miffed as possible, crossing your little arms and sticking your bottom lip out before going “Pwetty man! Kith! ‘Oo mithed me!” (Meaning “Pretty man! Kiss! You missed me!”)

Elvis looked surprised. “Huh? Wait, I missed you? Oh, now how on earth did I miss a pretty little lady like you when I was givin’ out my famous kisses? I’m sorry, honey, I slipped up; I think my eyes must be goin’ if I missed you. You’re so cute; I’ll bet you deserve some extra lovin’ anyway.”

With that, he gave a tiny, innocent kiss to your lips, before proceeding to smother your face in kisses as you squealed and giggled, making the audience go “aww” as they watched.

Speaking of which, your mother had come back and realized you’d run off, and had been frantically calling your name (worried that you’d been kidnapped at first) before turning bright red in embarrassment when she saw you running on the stage over to Elvis. As he asked you where your mama was, she quickly made her way down to the front through the giggling audience and tried her best to explain to the bodyguards that the baby Elvis was currently holding was her daughter.

You giggled and called out “Mama!” As you played with and picked at the sparkly gems on Elvis’s jumpsuit, still clinging onto him. Immediately, Elvis beckoned your mother over to the side of the stage, asking if you belonged to her, and what your name was. Your mother told him, before apologizing profusely; Elvis just laughed and shook his head.

“You don’t gotta worry, ma’am; I got a daughter myself, and anybody who’s got kids knows they can take off in the blink of an eye. Your little one’s adorable; I promise, she didn’t bother me none.”

With that, he gave your mother a kiss and then a blue scarf, saying she should save it for when you get older, before moving to hand you back to her, saying “Here, honey; let’s get you back to your mama, I gotta finish the show.”

You whined and tried to cling onto him at first, causing Elvis to laugh as he gently pried your little fingers loose from his jumpsuit, with all the care of an experienced father. As your mother started to carry you back to your seat, you loudly called out “Bye-bye, nice man!” Causing the audience and Elvis to laugh as he gently called “goodbye” to you and blew you a little kiss.

Your mother was still bright red as she got back to her seat; Elaine was just laughing, saying it was a sweet moment and she took plenty of pictures for Mommy to embarrass you with when you got older.

Your mother laughed, saying “You’re never gonna let her forget this, are you?”

Elaine just smiled, saying “Never.” Before she cuddled you in her lap as Elvis started to sing “Cotton Candy Land” for you.

****

Thank you for writing this @arianatheangel-girl you know I absolutely love anything you write ❤️

#submission #kiwis submissions

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 1 year

Text

Here You Come Again [Part Nine]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, RPF, American Actor

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Original Female Characters, Priscilla Presley, Colonel Tom Parker, Vernon Presley, Gladys Presley, Minnie Mae Presley, Marci Cunningham, Jerry Schilling, Red West, Sonny West, Marty Lacker, Joe Esposito, Charlie Hodge, Lamar Fike, Alan Fortas, George Klein, Memphis Mafia

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5072

Summary: When Addison Goodwin was seventeen years old her life was turned inside out after a chance encounter with her past. Now, fifteen years later her life is the best it’s ever been. She has a home, a good job and a daughter she loves more than anything in the world but will all that remain when an old familiar face rolls into town.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Graceland, Las Vegas, The International Hotel, Elvis In Vegas, 1970s, 1970s Elvis, Friends To Lovers, Rekindled Romance, Parenting, Time Line is Sketchy, Guilt, Betrayal, Teenage Pregnancy, Hawaii, Hidden Pregnancy, Jealousy, Sex, Absence of Parent, Single Motherhood, Trauma, Oral Sex, Tension

Notes: Honestly FCK tumblrs new post editor its a load of fckin shite

Anyway here's a small one. An additional Addie/Elvis fic will be out this week.

LINK TO ALL PARTS // LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST

The ride back to the hotel was a quiet one. All the excitement of the day had seemed to catch up on everyone meaning that all were now tired and hungry and so spent most of the drive listening to the radio or in half-hearted conversation. Even Lisa, who had been the life and soul of the party, had waned as she fought to keep her little eyes open though eventually fell asleep tucked up between Elvis and Jess.

Elvis however was wide awake, everything that Addison had told him churning around inside him. He had been longing to know what had happened in their lives since the majority of it was still fuzzy with bits filled in here and there from Jess. And whilst he was glad she had Marci, that overall she hadn’t been on her own, it also reassured him to know that she had loved him. That as he lay in the depths of despair after his mother’s death she had wanted to come back. Yet the more he thought of that the more anger he felt at the Colonel. With one callous act, he had robbed them both of so much.

When they got to the hotel the four of them headed back up to the suite whilst the others went to their own rooms to get ready for dinner as planned. However, Elvis hadn’t yet mentioned the dinner idea to the girls so as they headed inside Jess and Lisa flocked to the TV whilst Addison gathered their various souvenirs, coats and candy so she could put them away. As the girls watched an episode of ‘The Partridge Family’, with Jess laughing along and Lisa laughing a fraction of a second later once she heard Jess’ giggle, he stood behind the couch pretending he was watching too though he kept glancing at Addison.

He watched as she stacked all the toys and teddies Lisa had managed to get him to buy in the gift shop neatly on the bench in the dining room where they were tidy but still accessible. He watched as she disappeared into the kitchen taking the mountains of candy the girls had begged for and not eaten with her, no doubt saving it for later. And he watched and she folded Lisa’s fur-trimmed jacket coat over her arm and then hung it neatly in the hall closet. It was all normal stuff and yet it felt alien to watch her do it. After all, he never really had to do mundane normal things like that anymore.

For a moment he wondered if he would’ve been more like that if they were still together. It wasn’t that he had lost touch with reality, but Addison had always seemed to ground him in a way as if he was tethered to her. If they were still together now would he be a bit more normal? Or would his life have pulled her with him? At that thought he had to fight a snort. He doubted it. Even now she wouldn’t let him show off or buy her things, that damn pride in the way. Though he supposed she was right they didn’t technically need new things. He didn’t need to spoil the kids as he had today, yet he wanted to and had done so though under her watchful gaze it had been more within reason. No, she wouldn’t have been pulled with him if anything she would’ve brought him a little more down to earth.

Once she was finished she came to stand beside him looking at the girls as she said, ‘so what are we doing for dinner?’

‘Ooh, can we get pizza?’ Jess asked tearing herself away from the screen.

‘I want pizza too!’ Lisa said excitedly. Addison looked at Elvis as though she was waiting for him to give the go-ahead, but he paused.

‘Actually, I’ve arranged for us to go to dinner,’ he said clearing his throat nervously.

‘Oh? You didn’t say,’ Addison said wondering why he hadn’t mentioned it.

‘Must’ve slipped my mind,’ he lied, he hadn’t mentioned it because he hadn’t wanted to give her any wiggle room. Addison observed him curiously but said nothing.

‘I just thought what with it being Lisa’s last night in town we could do a big,’ he was going to say ‘a family thing’ but he couldn’t bring himself to, so instead he skipped over it, ‘get together sorta thing. Daddy, the boys, and some other friends. I mean if that’s alright?’

‘Um sure,’ she said before she added hesitantly, ‘like in public?’

‘Uh private suite,’ he said, ‘and there’ll be plenty of folks there so…’

‘Yeah…right,’ Addison nodded looking at the girls who were watching them, ‘you two okay with this?’

‘Yeah, fine by me,’ Jess said.

‘Me too,’ Lisa smiled.

‘Well looks like we’re going out for dinner,’ Addison said with a smile as she looked back at him, ‘where did you have in mind?

‘Golden Steer,’ Elvis said making Addison’s face fall into shock.

‘Golden Steer? As in exclusive booked out for months Golden Steer?’ she asked.

‘That’s the one,’ Elvis smiled, ‘table is booked for eight.’

‘Wait what?’ she said grabbing his wrist and looking at the watch on it, ‘that’s in thirty-five minutes.’

‘So?’ he asked.

‘So? I’m not exactly dressed for a place like that,’ she said.

‘Huh,’ Elvis said as if he hadn’t noticed. She had been going through her options in her head but at his faux naivety, she paused, her eyes narrowing as she watched him.

‘You bastard,’ she whispered shaking her head, ‘you did this on purpose didn’t you?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Elvis said with a smug smile, ‘oh girls you should probably get changed. It’s kind of a nice place.’

‘Okay,’ Jess said eyeing her mother who was still pouting before she climbed up off the couch and headed to her room, followed by Lisa.

‘I can’t believe you,’ Addison said, her tongue in her cheek at the sheer idiocy of her thinking he wouldn’t try and win their little bet.

‘Like I said I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Elvis said with a little smile as he moved away from her heading towards the door.

‘You know I don’t have anything to wear,’ she said following him.

‘Wear that,’ he said, ‘I mean you wouldn’t want me buying you something new, right? That’d be showing off.’

‘Fine I will,’ she said folding her arms across her chest.

‘Great,’ he smirked, ‘I’m gonna go get changed.’

‘You do that,’ she said coolly.

‘Oh I will,’ he chuckled as he headed to the door though as he opened it he paused, looking back at her in the entrance hall, still pouting with her arms folded across her chest, ‘though if you do change your mind, there might be something you can wear in your room.’

And with that he threw her a wink and headed out into the hall, closing the door quietly behind him. Addison watched him go, a mix of irritation and foolishness for not anticipating him trying to win the bet. In all honesty, she hadn’t thought it was a serious thing but she should’ve known he’d do something like this. He always was stubborn. Then again so was she.

But now he had her over a barrel. She had teased him because buying something new just to go to the zoo seemed extravagant, but this wasn’t the zoo. It was a fancy, high-end restaurant, one that was normally booked out for weeks. She couldn’t exactly roll up in jeans and a shirt, but she didn’t want him to think he was getting away with it either. She had seen the way he had thrown his money around today and though she knew it was because he wanted to make the girls happy, she worried about it. She worried about him. She had never been interested in the money but that didn’t mean others weren’t. She just hoped he realised that those that mattered didn’t want fancy cars or high-end clothes. They just wanted him, the real him.

Still, as she made her way into the room and spotted the outfit that had been laid out on her bed she couldn’t help but feel in awe. The dress was gorgeous with an air of simplicity and though its tight black velvet material made it look sexy it still felt elegant. As she ran her fingers across it she wondered who had chosen it. After all, she couldn’t see him rifling through any boutique clothing rails, he didn’t have the time, but it was so her she couldn’t see how he didn’t pick it out. She looked down at her outfit. It wasn’t bad but it definitely wasn’t fancy restaurant material and so with a sigh she started to get changed and as she looked at herself in the mirror she couldn’t help but curse him. The dress fell like water against her skin enhancing every curve and even the shoes weren’t too awkward or painful to walk in. He truly had bested her this time.

Fortunately she didn’t have time to dwell on her loss or her new physique as she heard chatter out in the suite meaning she needed to grab her purse and head out the door. As she got to the entrance hall though she found she was the last one there. Elvis, Red, Sonny, Jerry and the girls were all sitting in the lounge waiting for her. Jess however was the only one that heard her approach and she looked up as she heard her heels clacking against the marble floor.

‘Wow Mom you look pretty,’ Jess said watching her with awe. Jess knew her mother was pretty, it was something she had been told many times – many people likening the pair of them, but the woman in front of her now was stunning.

‘You too sweetheart,’ she said taking in Jess’ new outfit with a smile. As Jess spoke the men looked towards her each looking a little taken aback at the new attire. Elvis felt his heartbeat quicken. When he’d told Patsy what he wanted he hadn’t been too specific but he knew there would only be certain things she would be comfortable with. It was a simple black dress, not too flashy or overstated as his own outfit was, and yet she was the best dressed in the room. Feeling everyone’s eyes on her she shifted, tucking her purse under her arm as she said, ‘you guys ready?’

‘Yeah,’ Red said climbing up out of his seat, ‘you look nice by the way.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, ‘you guys clean up pretty well yourselves.’

‘Have to when he insists on dinin’ at fancy places,’ Sonny chuckled, ‘like he ain’t gonna ask them to cremate a steak anyway.’

As everyone started to file out Elvis climbed out of his seat though his eyes didn’t leave Addison. He didn’t even clock the slight ribbing over his preference of having everything charred within an inch of its life. Instead he followed them, unable to speak as he watched her as conversations carried on around him. When they got to the door she paused, holding it open for everyone until he was the last one out.

‘Addie,’ he said capturing her attention as she stroked Lisa’s hair as she passed, her hand in Jerry’s. As he neared her she rolled her eyes, an action that caused a fire to brim inside his lower belly.

‘Don’t say anything,’ she said with a smile, ‘you won, okay? No need to rub it in.’

‘I wasn’t going to,’ he said in a somewhat serious manner that threw her joking tone off, making her eyebrows knit together, ‘I was just gonna say…you look beautiful. Really.’

‘Oh,’ she said a blush creeping up her neck, ‘uh thanks.’

He nodded suddenly feeling his own blush creeping in on him and before she could see it he fled past her out into the hall following the others down towards the elevator. She appeared beside him in an instant, something that must have been a feat given the height of her shoes and tucked her arm into his offering him a small smile as she did so. They were still behind everyone, and he was sure once they got to the elevator she would pull away but until then he was going to enjoy every damn second she offered.

✵✵✵

Dinner went well much to Addison’s surprise. Where she had thought she and Jess might feel exposed she hadn’t as the bonus of a big group meant they melted into the background. There were a few curious glances from those she knew from way back when, ones that told her that Elvis hadn’t yet told them of her position back in his life but she tried not to let them get to her. Not that they had much of a chance to, not since she was having so much fun. Elvis seemed to be on a real high which in turn was creating an atmosphere of merriment. It was a feeling that stayed with Addison throughout the night and it didn’t even wane as they headed back to the hotel even though their party was disbanded as Elvis took to the stage and the group split off into various factions. In fact, the only time it did ebb was when a familiar face appeared.

It was midway through the show, Jess was talking to Vernon about something she couldn’t quite hear which meant she was forced to watch rather than try and join in. He looked amazing on stage. Though he had looked good in the outfit he had worn tonight she couldn’t deny the elaborate suits he had adapted into his stage persona were something to behold. Each one housed intricate details that could mesmerise a person just by looking. She found herself mesmerised as she watched him sing a song she wasn’t familiar with. She thought it was one of his newer ones given that she knew the melody but not the words, probably from hearing Jess play his entire back catalogue upstairs in her room.

She was watching him, her eyes fixated on every movement as his voice rang out purer than ever, which meant she was distracted so much she barely even looked up as someone approached the table, that was until she heard that familiar nasal voice echo out. When she looked up she saw him. The Colonel. He was on the other side of the booth, leaning over and whispering into Vernon’s ear.

It made her blood run cold.

He didn’t even seem to notice she was there; he didn’t even seem to notice anyone else was even at the same table though she supposed they would’ve been insignificant to him seeing as he didn’t need anything from them.

‘I don’t know. I’ll have to ask him,’ she heard Vernon say tightly. The song had ended and though Elvis was now speaking, his voice echoing through the speaker system, she couldn’t hear him. Her ears were fixated on every word uttered on the other side of the table.

‘Well see that you do,’ the Colonel said, ‘it’s been over a damn month!’

‘Yeah, uh I’ll do it tonight,’ Vernon said glancing towards Addison, something that made her have a sneaking suspicion whatever issue the Colonel was having somehow coincided with her arrival.

‘You have to,’ the Colonel started though noticing Vernon’s inattention he trailed off glancing towards her. He looked as though he was going to go right back to whatever chastising he had lined up but she could see the cogs click into place after a moment, his eyes going wide as he looked back towards her. She felt knots in her stomach as she took him in but she refused to let them overwhelm her. Instead, she stared at him, her hazel eyes boring into his face which made him straighten up uncomfortably.

‘Colonel, you remember Addison,’ Vernon said quietly after a moment of them staring at one another.

‘Miss Goodwin,’ he said quietly, ‘long time no see.’

‘Not long enough huh?’ she said tightly. He stood more upright at her words, seemingly noticing her attitude wasn’t going to be one of understanding, not that she could see how he could even fathom that would be the case.

‘I didn’t know you and Elvis had…reacquainted,’ he said. It was a laced statement, accusations woven throughout it but she didn’t respond. She didn’t even want to look at him. She didn’t want to tell him anything about her and Elvis. She hoped it was driving him crazy trying to piece everything together. Beside her she could feel Jess’ eyes on her, watching the pair of them but she refused to look in her direction. If she didn’t want him to know anything about her and Elvis she certainly didn’t want him to know about Jess, but her façade was shattered however as she heard Jess say, ‘Mom?’

She glanced towards her, trying to silence her with a look that willed her to ask questions later, but when she looked back the Colonel was watching them bewildered. It was the first time she had seen him falter. The first time she had seen that cold calculating stare break, if only for a second.

‘Uh I’ll tell him to give you a call,’ Vernon said trying to diffuse the palpable tension hanging over the table.

‘What?’ the Colonel asked, ‘oh, uh, sure. Yes. See that you do.’

And before Vernon could respond he scuttled away his mind no doubt boggling at the situation that had unfolded in front of him.

‘Mom who was that?’ Jess asked leaning into her closely.

‘No one baby,’ Addison sighed as she placed her arm around her daughter, pulling her to her side as she kissed the top of her head. Jess seemed taken aback by the sudden act of PDA but she didn’t protest. In fact, she seemed to sense that this display of affection was more for her Addison’s comfort and allowed her mother’s arm to remain around her shoulders. Vernon watched from the side-lines as Addison bit her lip trying to will herself not to cry.

She didn’t know why. Maybe it was because after so many years of anger and fury, after the number of times she had pictured just what she would say to him if she had the chance, she had said nothing. It made sadness flow through her even though she knew it was probably the right thing to do. Going off at the man in a room full of people would only draw unwanted attention but still it felt like she had been cheated. Still, as her daughter cuddled into her side and Vernon placed his hand on the back of hers she was comforted.

After their little meeting however, she couldn’t shake her frustrations. The high of the night had been well and truly stomped out and by the time Elvis came off stage she wanted nothing more than to go home and climb into her own bed. Unfortunately, before that could happen they needed to say goodbye. He knew something was off from the moment they came into his dressing room. He had been expecting to get changed and head upstairs where they could hang out for the night so seeing them emerge through his dressing room door made him nervous, as did the sombre look on his Daddy’s face as he bid his son goodnight.

‘Hey, you enjoy the show?’ he said, pulling Jess in for a hug which she pulled out of quickly, her nose wrinkled at how sweaty he was.

‘Yeah,’ she said though there was an air of doubt in it that made his nerves bubble further.

‘Everything alright?’ he asked, looking at Addison who seemed deep in her thoughts. As he spoke though she looked up and said, ‘what? Oh, yeah fine.’

‘You sure?’ he asked.

‘Yeah,’ she said glibly, ‘we just came to say goodbye that’s all.’

‘You’re going home?’ he asked glancing at Jess who shrugged which only reinforced the notion was something wrong. It had to be if Addison was calling the shots.

‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘I mean Jess has probably got homework and stuff and I’m sure there’s a mountain of laundry waiting for me tomorrow.’

‘Can’t you just go home in the morning?’ he asked. He knew it was dumb of him to push but if he could keep them around, even a little bit longer, he would. Addison shifted uncomfortably. His request wasn’t unreasonable, but it was making her heart ache all the same and tonight that was something Elvis couldn’t help with. Though she had told him so many things she wasn’t sure she was ready to talk about it just yet. To talk about him.

‘You should spend the day with Lisa. She’s leaving tomorrow, I bet she’d like to spend some time just you guys before she goes,’ Addison said with an air of finality in her tone that Elvis knew was better than to fight.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘you’re probably right.’

‘We can do something in the week though, right Mom?’ Jess said.

‘Of course,’ she said with a weak smile.

‘Maybe we could do something else like the zoo again?’ Jess asked looking at Elvis who smiled at her.

‘Sure honey,’ he said, ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? We can figure it out then.’

‘Okay,’ Jess said with a smile as she leaned in to hug him, again briefly due to his sweaty nature. Addison however didn’t move in for a hug and instead made a beeline for the door waiting for her daughter. Elvis tried to ignore the disappointment in his stomach as she said goodbye before the two of them headed into the corridor and eventually out of sight.

He flopped down in his chair, watching himself in the large vanity as he did so. His hair was damp and sticking up off his head from where he had pushed it back so he could see and he had slight bags under his eyes from where he had grown tired from a long day of exertion. And yet he was happier than ever. Well, he had been until five minutes ago. He wondered what had happened to make her turn so quickly. Even their little back and forth about the dress hadn’t been a real argument if anything it was kind of well, fun.

He didn’t have long to dwell on what the problem was though as there was a knock on the door which opened before he even had time to tell whoever it was to come in. It was then he knew what had happened as coming into his dressing room with a severe scowl on his face was the Colonel.

He stood in the room as if waiting for Elvis to speak or at least greet him but Elvis didn’t. Instead, he stood up and moved to the small drinks cart in the corner of the room where he busied himself with a glass of bourbon. When he turned back the older man was still watching him.

‘Can I help you?’ Elvis said snarkily.

‘What is going on?’ the Colonel asked sternly.

‘What do you mean?’ Elvis asked.

‘You know what I mean. What is Addison Goodwin doing here?’ he asked. Elvis watched him for a moment taking a sip of his drink as he did before he placed it down on the drinks cart and shrugged, ‘she lives in town.’

‘And you two are what? Back together?’ he asked.

‘What do you care? Thought you didn’t get involved in my personal life,’ Elvis said making the older gentleman hesitate. He could see the cogs turning in the man’s mind, the realisation that he knew everything, that he had for a while dawning hence why he had been refusing to see him.

‘Elvis,’ the Colonel said.

‘What? Are you going to lie to me again? Tell me you didn’t have nothing to do with it?’ he said, ‘because spare me the bullshit.’

‘I thought I was doing what was best,’ he said.

‘And making my daughter grow up without a dad was what was best?’ he spat. He could see the information land, the realisation crossing his face in an instant. Quicker than it had for anyone else in fact. At that Elvis moved towards him staring directly at him whilst he probed further, ‘did you know?’

‘What?’ the Colonel asked.

‘About Jess did you know?’ he asked narrowing his eyes as he scrutinised his face.

‘Of course not,’ the Colonel said. Elvis didn’t seem convinced but he pulled back all the same moving away to take another swig of his drink.

‘My boy-’

‘Don’t you my boy me,’ he said looking back at him, ‘you’re lucky I haven’t shot your ass.’

‘I honestly thought I was doing what was right. I didn’t know about, Jess you said, if I had do you think I would’ve kept it from you?’ he asked. Elvis watched him closely as he moved towards him, placing a hand on Elvis’ shoulder which he looked upon with disdain, ‘this is just as much of a shock to me as it is to you.’

He watched as he looked up at him with eyes that seemed to be begging him to listen. But that was what Elvis had done the last time. He had been lured in, convinced to listen by a man who spewed lies so easily it was hard to figure out which bits were true. A man who through all the love and loss he had had in his life he had clung to, like a second father, a guiding hand that he could trust to navigate him through the best and worst of it.

But that was gone now. Whatever bond they had was gone, extinguished the minute he saw Addison at that club. When he saw how frightened she was at the mere thought of their worlds colliding again because of what he might do. That was why the hand on his shoulder brought nothing to him. He didn’t feel comfort. He didn’t even feel rage. His feelings were now one of disinterest. He didn’t want the Colonel punished he just wanted him gone. Yet the plan he was forming was taking time and he knew that to blow up in his face would do him no favours. He had played this game before and he had made all the wrong moves, this time he was determined not to.

‘Yeah, well you better get used to it,’ Elvis said slipping out of his grasp as he dumped himself back into his seat.

‘You don’t mean to say you’re keeping this girl around?’ he asked.

‘My daughter?’ he asked.

‘My boy, do you think that’s wise? I mean think of the press-’

‘We’re keeping it under wraps,’ Elvis said.

‘And when it gets out?’ he implored as he started to pace, ‘you cannot hide these things forever. Say a nosy reporter gets a hold of the story what then?’

‘They get a front page spread and a promotion no doubt,’ Elvis said.

‘And what do you get? People will be able to work things out you know. A bit of quick math and hey presto. Ticket sales through the floor. God forbid a tour cancellation-’

‘You don’t get it do you?’ Elvis said making the Colonel slow in his tracks as he looked at him. Elvis stood up, coming towards him again as he continued, ‘I don’t care.’

‘But-’

‘I don’t care. Colonel you can moan all you want about ticket sales and merchandising but there is nothing that is going to stop me from seeing my daughter. I’ve missed too much of her life already I ain’t going to miss any more,’ he said.

‘And if it costs you your career?’ he asked.

‘Fine,’ Elvis said, ‘I already lost most of the things that are important to me. My mama, my wife, hell I’ve probably spent about as much time apart from Lisa than I have with Jess and I’ve only known her a month. So I’m not going to bend. I’m doing this my way.’

‘And if they end up hurt?’ he asked making Elvis’ jaw clench. It was a dirty tactic and they both knew it. Yet Elvis didn’t yield. He didn’t allow the man to get in his head and confuse him about what he should be doing, not when he knew what he was doing was what was right. What he wanted.

‘If everyone keeps their damn mouth shut it won’t come to that,’ Elvis said leaning in towards him, ‘so, are you gonna do as I ask? Or are we going to have a problem?’

‘If that’s the way you want to play it,’ the Colonel said coolly.

‘It is,’ Elvis said firmly.

‘Well then I can only hope that you’re right,’ the older man said as he headed to the door.

‘I guess we’ll see,’ Elvis said as the Colonel paused, offering Elvis an understanding look though behind it Elvis could see fire in his eyes. He wasn’t listening to him. He wasn’t bending to his will. And that was pissing him off.

‘I’m sure we will my boy,’ he said and with one last glance he left, closing the door with a slam that betrayed his cool demeanour.

Elvis waited for a moment though he wasn’t unpacking what had just happened he was merely waiting until he was sure the Colonel wouldn’t be lingering by the door. Once he was sure he was gone he moved to his couch, dropping into it with a thud as he dialled Jerry’s number. He had handled it well. He hadn’t been lying when he mentioned shooting the old coot. A month ago he might have but he’d had time to think since then. He didn’t have a doubt that the Colonel would be making his plans. Snakes always protect themselves by attacking others so it wouldn’t surprise him, but he was making his own plans too.

‘EP?’ Jerry said as the line clicked on.

‘Yeah, it’s me,’ Elvis said, ‘Jer I need a favour.’

‘Hit me,’ Jerry said.

‘Get me Mr Kohn,’ he said, ‘tell him it’s important.’

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