#austin!elvis x black reader

[powerofelvis]

No Longer The Housewife

Pairing: Elvis Presley x f!reader, Austin!Elvis x f!reader

Word Count: 6000

Summary: You arrived in Vegas to sleep with another man after enduring an unhappy marriage. You didn’t realize that the man that you would encounter would bring out your long missed youth. 

Warning(s): Angst, Infidelity, Fluff, SMUT (in this part, there’s spitting, choking, degradation, edging, and overstimulation), Different Types of Kinks (and I mean that wholeheartedly), The Vegas Era

A/N: I’m sorry for the stupid summary, I’m not good at summarizing my stories yet. However, it is finally here. This fic will be three parts, so it is a short series because I love to torture myself. I also did not add any adjectives, so the reader could be any ethnicity, so to my fellow sistas, have fun! This fic is based off of this song, so I recommend you listen to it before or while you are reading it ;)

masterlist. 

Your husband was gone once again. You and your husband had been married for five years, yet you’ve only spent three of those years with him. You had tried to keep yourself busy—the burden of feeling lonely weighing in your mind. You didn’t want to tell your husband that you were lonely, but it was beginning to get harder to stay quiet as your husband was off doing god knows what. You knew that your husband had a wandering eye and at first, you didn’t let it bother you. You figured that as time went on, his wandering eye would shrink and he would only see you. You couldn’t be more wrong. Your husband didn’t only have wandering eyes, but a wandering cock as well. He thought that you wouldn’t have known—but you knew. The phone calls during the night, the lipstick stains on his collar, the perfume smells on his clothes that weren’t yours. You weren’t sure when you had begun to feel lonely, but you were lonely and very bitter. How could he do this to you after you had given him ten years of your life and five of those being married. You were young, while he was nearing his forties. Your family and friends warned you that marrying someone who was ten years your senior could come with consequences, but you loved him. How could you have not?

Your husband wooed you with flowers, gifts, and vacations but you didn’t want anything but his love. However, love apparently wasn’t enough for him. So it was at this moment that you decided that you would find someone who would love you. Someone who wouldn’t spend their money on you just to keep you in the shadows while they indulge in forbidden pleasures. You knew that there was a man who would treat you better than your husband—what you didn’t know was the man who would treat you better than your husband was Elvis Presley. 

Your friend wanted you to come along with her to see Elvis perform at the new International Hotel. You did listen to his music, but you were only a casual listener. The idea of meeting another man at this show was the only reason that you decided to go, along with the fact that you didn’t know if you could stomach another night in, seeing your husband come home with evidence of him sleeping with another woman. As you packed your bags for this small getaway, you decided that you wouldn’t leave Vegas without sleeping with another man. In the back of your mind, you were telling yourself that it was a bad idea—that stepping out on your marriage just to get back at your cheating husband meant that you were no better than him. However, you didn’t care what your conscience was saying, because hell hath no fury than a woman scorned. 

You had been so good to your husband, moving away from your family when he had gotten the career of his dreams, leaving your dreams behind in the process. Your husband didn’t like the idea of you working, so you bite your tongue and stay at home being a homemaker. You were not meant to be a homemaker. You had dreams and ambitions, yet you blindly followed your husband into the life that you were miserable in. After this weekend, you were going to change from the miserable wife, to the woman that you had always dreamed of being. So as you packed your bags for the weekend trip in Vegas, you slid your wedding band off of your finger and left it on the nightstand, knowing that your husband wouldn’t be home anyway to see. You grabbed your bag, leaving your house and your homemaker status behind. 

***

You arrived in Vegas before your friend, deciding to sightsee while you waited for her flight to arrive. You had a few hours to spare, deciding to meet with her at the hotel. Vegas was more beautiful than you could have imagined. The more than you looked around the city, the more your hatred for your husband grew. You would have thought that you weren’t even married because you threw the thought out of reconciling with him once you returned home. You were walking through one of the casinos that Vegas had, the Stardust. It was very vibrant, so you made a note to return tomorrow so that you could gamble a bit. Your time here was going to be spent having fun and enjoying being free from your husband, so that’s what you were going to do. You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t notice that there were a pair of blue eyes watching you. “Are you lost, darlin’?” A southern accent brought you out of your thoughts. 

You turned, eyes widening and jaw dropping as you saw Elvis Presley in all of his glory. He was better looking than he was on the television, his olive skin glistening from the warmness of the casino—cigar in hand. He tilted his head, tongue in cheek as he waited for your reply. You coughed, placing your hands behind your back as you rocked on your heels. “Oh uh—yes, I’m lost actually. I’m looking for my way out of here, but I was intrigued by the vibrant feeling of this place.” You stumbled over your words, mentally hating yourself that you were rambling in front of him. Elvis chuckled, taking in your body language as he stepped closer to you. You gasped, stepping back a bit in fear that you would embarrass yourself more than you already had. 

“Don’t be shy, mama. I’m not gon’ bite, unless you’re into that.” He chuckled, extending his hand. “Elvis Presley. My pleasure to meet such a beauty.” He smirked, blues burning into your eyes as he stared down at you as if you were his next prey. Your hand shakingly raised as you shook his hand, not once looking away from his gaze. “Y/N, pleased to meet you.” Your face dropped as you watched him pull your hand up to his lips, pressing a longing kiss to the back of it. He was laying it on thick, you thought. As you stood there indulging in his presence, you suddenly remembered that you were supposed to meet with your friend ten minutes ago. You pulled your hand out of his, feeling the empty feeling that you had never felt before. “My apologies, Mr. Presley. I have to meet with my friend, so I must take my leave. It was a pleasure to meet the person that has the whole world at his feet.” You shot him a smile, before running off before another word could have been spoken. 

You met up with your friend a few minutes later, choosing not to tell her about your meeting with Elvis. “Where have you been, girl? I’ve been standing here like a fool waiting on you.” She chuckled, pulling you into a hug. Your friend, Lindsay hasn’t seen you since your wedding day. She was also the President of the “I hate your husband” club. When she had first met your husband, she made it known that she didn’t like him and that she didn’t even want you to marry him. She conceded after she saw how much you loved him, but it didn’t stop her from letting it be known that you could do much better than him. She would always tell you, ���What kind of man buys you things and asks you to be his wife, just to step out?” She also made it known that if she had ever seen your husband out with one of his whores, she would castrate him and throw his dick into the Mississippi River. You used to think that she was being unreasonable, but as time went on, you started to think that maybe she could see right through him. 

The thought of your best friend being right about your husband had broken your heart right down the middle. You didn’t want to tell her about the cheating, but one night you didn’t have anyone to talk to. You broke down on the phone to her, telling her about the lipstick stains that you found on your husband’s shirts and the purple marks that you could see on his body. You were thinking that she would have said “I told you so,” but yet she sat on the phone with you, telling you that he would soon be sorry for hurting you the way that he has. The show at the International wouldn’t happen until later on that night, so you would have to deal with your best friend dressing you up so that you could have the attention of everyone. You didn’t really want all of the attention, but you wanted to at least have the attention of the man who would be yours for the weekend. 

***

As time started to wind down, your best friend had convinced you to dress into a two-piece pink getty-up, the sheer top had lace that barely covered your stomach and a matching skirt that stopped at your thighs. She had curled your hair, letting it sit on your shoulders, while doing your make-up to perfection. You stood in the mirror, not knowing who this new you was, not being able to dress this way before. Your husband would have had a fit seeing you dress this way, but you could care less about what he had thought. He had spent five years trying to mold you into his ideal woman, but would sleep around with women who weren’t his wife. You were ready to stop some hearts tonight and you didn’t care how you had to do it. As you and your friend walked into the showroom, you could feel multiple eyes on you. You had to admit that you were uncomfortable at first, but your best friend told you to relax and remember that it was time for payback. Your husband wouldn’t know what hit him once he realized that things would soon change once you got home. 

A waitress came to the table that you and your friend shared, taking your drink orders before rushing off to retrieve them. You were sitting so close to the stage that you could reach out and touch him, but you decided to stay firmly into your seat. The lights dimmed and the music started to pick up as the crowd went wild. At that time, the waitress came back with your drink before scurrying away from your table. Lindsay clapped her hands, clearly excited that she was finally going to be able to see Elvis perform. You on the other hand were excited that you would see him again. He walked out on stage in his white jumpsuit, oozing confidence and sexuality. Your thighs rubbed together at the sight of the jumpsuit being slightly opened at the top—revealing his chest hair. He looked gorgeous and you couldn’t take your eyes away from him. His eyes scanned the crowd, smiling as he blew his breath out of his mouth. Eventually, his eyes landed on you and his smile turned into a smirk as he looked you over. You melted into your chair, taking a gulp from your drink as your eyes stayed locked on his. You were so entranced by his presence that you didn’t hear Lindsay screaming that Elvis was staring at you. Not that you didn’t know that already. 

His eyes left yours as he began to go into his nostalgic tunes, jerking his hips in multiple directions. At the sight of his hips thrusting, you could imagine his hips thrusting into you. You snapped out of that thought, instantly remembering that there was no way that Elvis Presley would ever think about sleeping with you. You didn’t know that you would be wrong once again. As he started to sing “Love Me Tender”, his eyes found yours once again and it felt as if you two were the only ones in the room. Your body heats up at him walking over to the table that you were sitting at, pulling you up into his arms before pressing a kiss to your lips. You gasped, opening your mouth, which allowed for him to maneuver his tongue past your lips. You could have fainted in his arms, but your lips moved along with his, gripping at his white jumpsuit to keep your body from crumbling to the ground. 

As soon as he appeared in front of you, he was gone in the crowd as he continued seeking out his fans. Lindsay grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back into your seat as she began to ask you about what had just happened. You couldn’t form a single word, only looking over at your friend with wide eyes. Your fingers landed on your lips as you smirked at the memory of Elvis Presley’s lips on yours. He was going to be the man who you slept with, he had to be. Shortly after that awakening experience, Elvis appeared back on stage where he ended the show with ‘Can’t help falling in love’. His eyes lingered at your table as if he was performing that song just for you. At that moment, a man appeared behind you, tapping you on the shoulder. You turned, seeing a blond haired man who was wearing sunglasses. He leaned into your ear, whispering “Elvis wants to see you tonight in his suite.” 

***

Lindsay freaked out, hearing that Elvis wanted to see you privately. You had thought about not meeting with him, the thought of sleeping around on your husband still lingering in your mind. You didn’t want to ruin your marriage, you kept telling yourself. However, the pictures that were seared in your mind of your husband coming home with lipstick stains and hickies on his body as he looked over you with pure disgust on his face pushed you forward. “You deserve this, Y/N. Go show your husband what he missed out on.” She giggled, leaving the elevator that you both were on, heading off to your shared hotel suite. Elvis had the penthouse suite, which meant you had a while to go before you got there. The blonde-haired man who you learned was Jerry Schilling, his bodyguard, had told you that he was expecting you. He got off on his floor shortly after, giving you a smile as the elevator doors shut. You were suddenly nervous, being in the elevator alone.

The elevator moved up until it finally dinged at the penthouse floor. Your heart pounded into your ears and sweat pooled in your hands, but you were confident that you were called up to his room because of the two instances that you had met with him earlier on that day. The voices fighting in the back of your head seemingly stopped as you exited the elevator, walking up towards the door of the room. You couldn’t believe your luck, seeing Elvis Presley take interest in you. Your husband couldn’t even do that and he was your husband. Your husband, you thought. That no-good piece of trash was the reason why you were here in Vegas, about to meet with Elvis Presley. Why were you thinking about him and his feelings so much? He was the cause of all of this, yet you couldn’t take your mind off of him. You stood outside of the room for a second, pondering whether or not you should knock. Eventually, you do, rocking on your heels again as you wait for the door to open. Elvis appeared as the door opened, smiling as he stood in front of you—wearing a satin purple dressing robe with his initials on them. You gasped, seeing that his chest was revealed, glistening in the light. “Well, come on in, darlin’”. He stepped aside, allowing you to come in. 

You entered the room, in awe at how big it was. It was much bigger than the normal room that you and Lindsay were sharing for the weekend. You walked over to the huge glass windows that showed the beautiful Vegas lights that burned brightly at night. It was truly a beautiful sight, which made you once again appreciate that your friend talked you into coming to Vegas with her. This was the life that you wanted, not being a homemaker for your husband. Not being cooped up at home, enduring his cheating ways and the glares that he sent your way because of it. “Beautiful..” you forced yourself to say before turning back to look at Elvis. He had sat down at the piano that was in the corner of the room, watching you with a smile. You didn’t know what it was about you that had him enamored, but you wouldn’t complain about it. You walked over to him slowly, taking in the sight of him manspread at the piano. He was gorgeous, more gorgeous than any man you have ever laid eyes upon. You sat down next to him, playing a little tune on the piano. Elvis curled his eyebrow, looking over at you. 

“You know how to play, mama?” He smirked at you, his icy blue eyes staring into your soul once again. You could have melted on the spot, but you sat there, taking in a deep breath before opening your mouth. “Yeah, I can play a little. My mama used to be my piano teacher when I was younger, but that was before I had to stop playing for personal reasons.” You shrugged your shoulders, playing the same tune that you played a while ago. Your mother was the best piano player in your hometown and she had wanted you to be the same, but you met your husband and things went south fast. You gave up playing because he wanted you to leave him for his new job. If you could go back, you would have told him that he could shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. “Well, if you want baby, I can teach you.” His southern drawl drew you out of your thoughts for the third time today. 

You wanted nothing more than to learn the piano from Elvis. “I would love nothing more than to learn under you.” You giggled, turning to face him. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, he was like an enigma. From his blue eyes that bore into your soul like it was a window to his southern charm, Elvis had your attention from the first meeting. You wanted him and you were determined to have him before the night was over. Your husband would learn that you would not be at his beck and call since he was sleeping around. You were going to become someone else’s girl—and that someone was Elvis Presley. “Are you okay, darlin’?” Elvis took you by the hand, standing up from the piano. He walked you over to his couch, sitting you down. He grabbed two glasses, filling them with whiskey. “Ya’ like whiskey?” He chuckled, handing you one of the glasses. You didn’t like whiskey, but you were feeling free at the moment so you nodded your head as you took a small sip out of the glass. 

Elvis spent the next hour asking you questions about yourself. You answered them as truthfully as you could, smiling as he told you about himself. He was definitely different from the superstar that was all over the radio and you felt yourself falling under his spell. He could sense that you had something on your mind, but you told him that you were just tired. “Do you want me just to let you crash here tonight?” He asked you, eyes seeming hopeful that you would agree. You chuckled, nodding as you pulled your feet up on the couch. “I had planned on staying here, if you didn’t mind?” You crawled over to him, rubbing your hand down his chest, fingertips grazing over his chest hair. Lindsay was right—you needed to be loved and having your body touched correctly. “My friend brought me to Vegas to find someone to touch my body correctly.” You chuckled, shaking your head as you snuggled up to him. “I can do that, mama.” He pulled you up in his arms, walking you back over to the piano.

You smirked, knowing you were going to get exactly what you wanted. Elvis placed you on top of his piano, pulling your skirt off of your body. You shivered, feeling the wet spot on your panties come into contact with the cool air. You didn’t realize that you were wet from staring at him manspread at the piano earlier. Elvis smirked, spreading your legs so he could have a look at your wet panties. You were shy at that moment, wanting to hide your arousal from him, but his magnetic pull on you forced your legs to stay open. His blue eyes not once leaving your face, he leaned in, pressing his lips on your thighs. Your body jerked slightly, the feeling of his kisses becoming unbearable on your skin. Your breath hitched in your throat as he moved his mouth closer to your core, his eyes now moving from your face to in between your legs. Goosebumps formed on your skin as you waited for his next move. 

Elvis finally gave you what you were waiting for—licking up your wet underwear, collecting the little arousal that spilled from your cunt. You shivered, throwing your head back as you moaned out in pleasure. “Don’t run off, mama. I’m gonna take my time with you tonight.” He teased, pulling you down the piano—closer to his face. It seemed as if time had slowed down, but you were fully aware of what you were getting yourself into. Elvis tugged your underwear off of your body, pocketing them in his robe. “You’re not to cum until I tell you that you can, ya hear me?” His now dark blue eyes locked on yours, sending you overboard into pleasure. You nodded, tugging your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Use your big words, baby.” He wanted you to talk back to him and who were you not to oblige? 

“Yes..” You whimpered out, hoping that this answer would suffice. He tsked, shaking his head at your short answer. “Yes, what?” He tilted his head as his fingers rubbed circles on your thighs. He couldn’t have wanted you to call him daddy, right? You watched him in confusion, but decided to test the waters anyway. “Yes, daddy.” You moaned out, thrusting your hips upward against the air, wanting some type of friction. He smirked, leaning back down before pressing a heated kiss to your thighs again. “That’s my good girl.” He licked a stripe from your thigh to your core, slowly pulling your lower lips with his teeth. You hissed, digging your heels into the top of his piano as you watched him. He chuckled, spitting on your cunt before lapping up your juices that were not mixed with his saliva. Elvis watched you from under his long eyelashes as you squirmed from his touch. His arms locked around your legs, holding you still as he lapped at your cunt. He moaned, sending vibrations up your body, and the coil in your stomach began to form. “Daddy, please...I don’t wanna cum yet.” You groaned out, trying to run away from him. “Oh, you’re not, baby.” 

It seemed as if he was eating your cunt for hours because every time you were close to cumming, he would pull away, smacking your pussy. He was edging you. The bastard was teasing you and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it. At this point, you were crying at the feeling of not being able to cum. You felt as if you were going to explode, but your body wouldn’t allow you to. He chuckled, jerking his cock in his hand as he watched you try to grind your legs together to gain some friction. “Did Daddy say you could do that? Are you tryin’ to make him upset, naughty girl?” He walked over to you, climbing on the piano as he wrapped his hand around your throat. “Since you ain’t listening like the dumb slut that you are, I’m going to tease you more.” He pulled his hand from around your throat, sliding off of the piano. “Lay right there, baby. I’ll be right back.” He chuckled, walking over to his closet. Seeing him pull out a vibrating dildo, your eyebrow raised. Your husband had never introduced toys with you as your sex was very bland, but with Elvis, it seemed as if he wanted to try different things out. You loved it. You loved the rush of feeling as if your sex life with him would be spontaneous as his lifestyle. 

Elvis walked back over to you, rubbing the vibrating toy along your clit. You gasped loudly, throwing your head back on the piano. Your orgasm was starting to build back up, but you were afraid that he was going to edge you again so you tried your hardest to hold back. It was useless because the way the toy was hitting your clit, sent jolts up your body. He smirked, sliding two of his ring-covered fingers into you, pumping into you at a fast pace. You screamed, shaking along the piano, shaking your head wildly. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy, please! I can’t take it anymore! Please!” You begged as he moved the vibrator along your clit in a circular motion—his fingers still fucking inside of you. Your back arched off of the piano, toes digging in. “I guess I can allow my slut to cum, huh?” He tilted his head, shaking his fingers into your pussy wildly, hitting your spot again and again. “Please, Daddy, I’ll listen... I swear!” You begged, holding on tightly as your orgasm rose higher and higher. “Cum for Daddy, slut.” He moved his fingers faster, and the vibrator moved in long strokes along your clit. 

This was it, you were finally able to chase after your orgasm, and you did. However, it felt as if you were going to pee, which caught you off guard. “Daddy, I have to pee. Please stop.” You moaned out, trying to pull your hips away from his fingers and the vibrating toy that he was currently torturing you with. He laughed, still continuing with his motions. “That’s okay, baby; I will catch it all.” He leaned down, replacing the vibrator with his tongue. You squealed as warm liquid shot out of your pussy, covering Elvis. He moaned, lapping up all of it—not letting one drop hit the piano. He pulled away, sliding his fingers out of you before licking your juices from his fingers. You had never seen something so hot before in your life. This was photo-worthy, but you decided to keep it etched into your memory. He picked up the vibrator, placing it against your lips. “Clean it.” He demanded. You didn’t have to be asked twice as you wrapped your lips around the toy, tasting yourself. 

***

This alone turned both you and Elvis on. Elvis pulled the toy from your lips, throwing it over his shoulders as he climbed up on the piano. He needed to be inside you at this very moment. He pulled his robe open, grabbed his hardened cock, rubbing the tip along your entrance. “Ya’ ready for me, baby?” He groaned in your ear as he aligned with your entrance. You groaned, pushing the robe down off of his shoulders just a bit, leaving the material hanging off of his shoulders. He looked sexy—bedroom eyes watching you with amusement. “I’m ready, Daddy, fuck me.” You begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. Elvis pushed inside of you slowly, his head laying on his chest as he groaned at how you were squeezing him. You mewled, tugging him close to your body—your breasts pressed against his chest as he thrust into you. 

Elvis had been with plenty of women before; some were even famous in their own right. However, he felt differently about you. You were all he thought about that day, leading into when he saw you again at the dinner show. He could remember how you smelled—the shampoo that you used seared into his brain. He thought about how your skin felt under his touch and how you tasted. He had bet that you tasted sweet like peaches, and he was definitely right. He wouldn’t have thought that he would have you writhing underneath him as he thrusted mindlessly into you. He wanted you as many times as he could have you before he would have to let you go, but he didn’t know if he could let you go. Elvis always got what he wanted and he didn’t care what he had to do to get it. At this moment, he wanted you and he would go through any and every one to get you. What he didn’t know however was that someone else already had you. 

Elvis thrusted slowly into you, his hand wrapped around your throat softly. He could have the sight in front him painted—you moaning, head tilted back in ecstasy. You had tears forming in your eyes, gripping the piano as if you would fall off if you didn’t. His robe hung off his shoulders as his thrusts picked up speed, his hand gripping a little tighter along your throat. Your moans caught under his hand, eyes crossing as he hit the right spot inside of you. The tears fell down your cheeks as you begged for him to go faster, harder, anything. Elvis obliged, pounding his hips into you harder, his feet hitting keys on the piano that sounded beautiful along with your moans. His black locks flopped against his forehead, sweat dripping on your body as he continued ravishing your sweet cunt. His hand moved from your throat, gripping your cheeks. Your mouth fell open with a shaky moan, feeling the coil in your stomach begin to pull. 

“Open your mouth wider, lil’ mama. Let Daddy see your tonsils.” He groaned, watching as you opened your mouth wider for him. You weren’t sure what he would do with your mouth, but you were too fucked out to care. Elvis spit into your mouth, hips continuing to thrust into you at a rapid pace at this point, demanding you to swallow what he gave you. You closed your mouth, swallowing his saliva down quickly as he returned to choking you. “I can’t-..” You whimpered out as your coil finally snapped inside of you, sending you headfirst into the longest and hardest orgasm you've ever had. You gripped your hands on his biceps, digging your nails into his skin as he fucked you through your second orgasm of the night. However, Elvis was not done with you. His hand let go of your throat once again, moving down to your bundle of nerves, rubbing your clit wildly. You gasped at the overstimulated feeling, blood pumping in your ears. You could feel your spirit leave your body at the overwhelming pleasure that he was making you feel. Your husband definitely didn’t hold a candle to Elvis—both physically and sexually. 

The warm feeling in your stomach returned as he continued pounding into you, playing with your cunt. “I can’t take it, Daddy. I can’t take it.” You truly didn’t know if you could handle another orgasm. “You can and you will, slut.” He grunted out, his other hand slapping across your face. Your eyes widened as your lips parted once again. “Again..” You moaned out, wrapping your legs tighter around him. Part of you was appalled that you wanted to be slapped again, but the other half wanted him to be rough with you. You were free, flying on a high that you didn’t need drugs for. He smacked you across the face again, groaning as his hips started to lose the pace he had set. You knew he wouldn’t last much longer, so you pulled him down to his—licking and biting at his earlobe. He shivered, continuing to push into you. “W-where d-do you want it baby? Inside you or?” He spoke quickly, feeling his orgasm build faster and faster. “Inside me, I don’t care.” You moaned, your own orgasm crashing over you—spurts of your own juices squirting out again against his pelvis. He nodded, grinding his hips into you as he soon came after you. His moans were so hot, causing a shiver to go up your body. You had never had such mind-blowing sex like this before, especially with someone who was not your husband. 

That night, Elvis took you again and again all over his room. You would have lied if you said you didn’t enjoy being used and fucked by him because you begged and pleaded for him. He itched the scratch that you never knew you had, awakening the youth that was long ago locked away when you married your husband. After hours of love-making, Elvis had fallen asleep in his bed, holding you close to him as snores left his lips. You laid there, staring at the ceiling, overwhelmed with feelings that you couldn’t sort out. You had to get out of your marriage, you had to tell Elvis that you were married, and you had to tell your husband that you refused to continue being trapped in a loveless marriage while he was out fucking another women. However, you weren’t any better. You were laying in a bed with Elvis fuckin’ Presley after spending the entire night getting your brains fucked out by him. You had to do something and it had to be soon. You sat up in the bed, sliding out of his embrace. Your heart broke as each step you took out of the bed, into your clothes, and out of his room took its toll on you. 

As you returned to your room that you shared with Lindsay, tears had already begun to fall out of your eyes. You wanted nothing more than to return back to Elvis to make love once more, but you were married. You couldn’t continue doing this to your husband, even if he was already doing it to you. You slid out of your clothes, walking into the bathroom to shower. While you were in the shower, you had thoughts of how you were gonna tell your husband that you didn’t want to be married anymore. Would he let you go? Probably not. He was very much possessive of you, but you didn’t see a problem with it until now. How could you have been so blind that your relationship with him was toxic? How would you tell Elvis that you were a married woman, but you wanted to be with him? You had decided while he had made love to you countless times that you wanted out of your husband’s world and wanted in Elvis’s world. 

After your shower, you slid in your bed, staring at the ceiling. You knew what you had to do, but you didn’t know how you would do it. As you finally drifted off to sleep, you were content of finally becoming free. You were content that everything would be alright. You would soon leave your husband and if Elvis still wanted you, you would be his. You wanted to live your own life, a life that you felt comfortable in. A life where you would live the remaining of your life free. However, what you didn’t know was that there was a price to pay for this freedom. Because as you slept soundly, dreaming of the life you could have with Elvis. Your husband was on the other side of the country, packing his bags to find where his wife had gone. 

taglist: @headfullofpresley @lindszeppelin @aconflagrationofmyown @venus-haze @ash-omalley @loving-elvis @babylovepresley @cchl @rainydayz101 @oh-my-front-door @woundmetender @oh-kurva @troubleinapinksuit @arianatheangel-girl @sournatromanoff @ep-supremacy @lovininapinkcadillac @foreverdolly

[friedwangsss]

arguing with austin and austin!elvis.. what’s that like ?

this really got me out of my writers block, thank you ! and send in more request !!

AUSTIN.

arguing with austin is never fun.

arguing in general with someone is never fun but when it comes down to your pretty boyfriend, it’s terrible.

both of you insist you’re right and austin takes it to a whole other level: talking with his hands so fast you’d think he’s either gonna fly away or they’re gonna fall off, eyes rolling at the retorts you throw back, huffing, and the “i am listening, i just don’t care.” line he uses.

arguing is also never fun because you both could argue abt the most stupid things and since austin is so passionate abt be right everytime he would try to out argue you.

the only thing that would make him calm down the most is if you walk away from him. turning your back on him isn’t fun but it’s the only thing you know how to do that will get him to shut up.

AUSTIN!ELVIS.

we’ve seen how he argues and yells.

he tries so hard not to yell at you or argue with you but it’s just something that he hates so badly about you being the only one who cares abt his well-being that makes him want to start arguing.

i mean, are you wrong for caring? elvis seems to think it’s overbearing (of course!!!) so he argues.

do you hate to see your man swallow pills everytime you turn around? yeah, but elvis doesn’t care so he argues.

are you tired of him ranting about the colonel, wishing he would just fire him but he doesn’t so you have to sit by and watch as the love of your life grow more and more exhausted because he can never catch a break?

you aren’t, but elvis tells you not to worry everytime but it always ends up in an argument. and of course it’s tiring, but what can you do other than pray for the Lord to give you the strength.

[mamasturn]

send you away, major gale cleven

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talk to me,” he pleaded. “Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

All night indeed.

[ranaissingle]

Right Here

Masterlist

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

⚛》》»»»◈«««《《⚛⚛》》»»»◈«««《《⚛⚛》》»»»◈««

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

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

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

You had really outdone yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you more."

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

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

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

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

"Hello?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Austin's choked sobs were palpable in the room.

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

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

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

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

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

⚛》》»»»◈«««《《⚛⚛》》»»»◈«««《《⚛⚛》》»»»◈««

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

[tpresley]

My favorite Austin pictures <3

Most of these scream bf/husband material

He’s so fucking gorgeous 🫶🏽

[idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy]

Mann black people are so narcissistic 😂😂

not writing for other races is rude like girl please, you only don’t want to write it because your black and you have some hatred towards other races…grow the hell up

also ur stories have so much misspells 🖕🏻

First of all don’t come on to MY page and attack me or my race.

And also if I don’t want to write for other races specifically that’s MY choice.

I’ve said many times before I only write for Black!fem reader specifically because I’m BLACK and I know how to write a black girl.

Now that’s different for other races/ethnicities because I am not apart of that community. I do it out of respect because I don’t want to butcher a culture/group or seem offensive in any way.

I normally just write xfem (no clarified race) reader so other people can enjoy the story.

I HAVE NO HATRED TOWARDS OTHER RACES.

And you need to fkn grow up coming in my acc and bashing me with your rude misinformation shit.

And since you know so much about my page and have been stalking me. You would know if you read my masterlist I have said my grammar could be bad…so if it bothers you that much, maybe dm me???

And come off anon and talk to me like that instead of hiding , your scared😂😂.

[undevidedattentionsblog]

It's Valentine's Day where are the fics at???😒

[isthlsfate]

*ೃ༄ The Girl Who Spit Flowers

warnings: slow burn, angst, mentions of puke, some dialogue taken directly from the movie, time skips, mentions of death, hanahaki disease :’)

pairing: elvis presley/austin!elvis x reader

word count: 4k

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘56

“ellis presley, blue moon boys, you’re up next.” the stage manager calls towards scotty as he rushes backstage, guitar in hand. he pushes the back door open and descends the stairs, where bill is staring at a poster with their name on it.

the latter lets out a scoff, “ellis presley…got a nice ring to it.”

scotty chuckles and motions for bill to follow him back towards elvis, dixie, gladys, and vernon. gladys gives the boys a kind smile before returning her attention back to her son.

“w-what if i forget the words on live radio? i ain’t no jimmy rogers snow.” elvis panics, sipping on the cola dixie had grabbed for him, “a-and where the hell is (y/n)?! ian’ going on without her!”

dixie looks up at him dejectedly as he hands the bottle of cola back to her, it suddenly feeling like a bag of bricks.

she always felt like she was competing with you. elvis would tell her that you were no more than a friend, but she wasn’t blind. the way you looked at him spoke stories.

“no one expects you to be jimmie rogers snow.” his father speaks, avoiding answering his question.

bill nods, “it’s just a bit of clowning around.

“that’s how we got this thing started in the first place.” scotty joins.

gladys rubs her son’s arm reassuringly, “scotty and bill are right, elvis. you’re not out there on your own. you boys are a band. the lord gave us music to bring people together. we’re like a family, and family’s the most important thing of all.”

“the family ain’t complete without (y/n).” elvis snaps, his nerves getting the best of him. as if on cue, you come through the door and trudge down the steps. your hands are visibly shaking as you wipe the corners of your mouth and force a smile. everyone but elvis seems to notice your unusual demeanor.

you force an awkward laugh, “sorry, i got caught up watching that snow boy on stage.”

elvis frowns at that and immediately opens his mouth to complain. his mother, however, rubs the back of his neck and cuts him off.

“if the good lord wants to speak through song here tonight, we are but vessels of His will. come on now, booby.” she motions for everyone to come in closer, “jesse is shining bright tonight.”

the elder woman looks up into the sky, the rest of the group following suit. she leads in song as one-by-one, they all join.

♪ some glad morning…

when this life is over…

i’ll fly away…

i’ll fly away, oh glory…

i’ll fly away, i’ll fly away…

i’ll fly away, i’ll fly away… ♪

as the song comes to a finish, sam walks through the door followed by marion.

“better get on up! they’ve just made a big announcement about you on the radio.” he says, his face seemingly just as pale as elvis’.

“folks are real excited!” marions quips before nudging him, “sam, don’t look so worried.”

elvis and his family make their way up the stairs, him and the band heading backstage while the rest go find some seats. before you can part with the others, the raven haired boy grabs you by the arm.

“why’d ya disappear like that?” he glares, his blue eyes dark.

you look back at the others nervously, but elvis is quick to grab your chin and make you face him.

“don’t look at them, look at me. what’s going on with you lately?”

“i-”

“elvis come on, we’re on!” scotty calls, saving you from a conversation you weren’t ready to have.

as he walks away, he mouths, “we ain’t done.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊

that night after the show, you, dixie, vernon, and elvis sat at the table awaiting supper. the show was exhilarating, and while you wanted so badly to talk to elvis about it, you didn’t want him asking any more questions about where you’d ran off to. you watch with a bitter taste in your mouth as he and dixie sit close to one another, whispering about something.

you can only sit and watch for so long before you abruptly stand up and head towards the kitchen where gladys is.

“need help with anything?” you speak softly so as to not startle her. she looks up at you and notices the wetness in your eyes. before you can react, she’s pulling you into a loving hug.

“oh, honey. he’ll come to his senses soon.”

you sigh. at times, you wished you had been better at hiding it. gladys promised to keep your secret, but having someone know meant you were being watched. any time you had to step away, any time you randomly skipped supper, she knew. that somehow made what you were going through ten times more painful.

later on, as you all sat at the table eating, elvis cleared his throat.

“i’m gonna be joinin’ hank snow on his tour.”

you choke on your soup, gaining the attention of everyone. feeling the thickness in your throat, you run to the bathroom and lock the door.

“so, without so much as a word to your daddy and me, you quit your job to run around in that rickety jalopy, speeding down dangerous road, getting girls all hopped up.” you can hear the anger in gladys voice as you sit on the tiled floor, head against the toilet. you blink slowly, trying to gain the energy to walk out and put a smile on your face.

“...soon, you’ll be drinking, going off to them slut parties–”

“mama!” elvis cuts her off. you can’t help but feel another painful wave of nausea at the thought.

a knock at the door startles you. you quickly flush the toilet, rinse your mouth, and unlock the door.

“dixie?”

she pushes herself in and locks the door behind her. you stand uncomfortably against the bathroom counter, having never been left alone with her. you knew she didn’t really like you; you had the luxury of knowing elvis since he was a young boy. you were special to him, and she didn’t like that.

“what is going on between you and elvis?” she leans against the door with her arms crossed. you can still hear the commotion going on at the table.

“what do you mean? i–we grew up together, he’s my best friend.”

she scoffs, her face turning a nasty shade of pink.

“are you pregnant with his child or somethin’?”

you can’t help but let out an exasperated laugh. you quickly cover your mouth as you notice the serious look on her face.

“i’m not pregnant, dixie.”

“then what’s with all the runnin’ away, throwin’ up, whisperin’ to gladys?”

your blood runs cold. you should’ve been more careful. you watch as her eye seemingly catches onto something near the toilet.

“shit, (y/n).” is all she says, her angry expression softening. there on the creme colored tiles lays a lone flower petal.

“please don’t tell him.” is all you can get out, tears already threatening to leave your sullen eyes.

“oh, i won’t.” dixie scoffs, “it’s not like there’s anything you can do anyway. elvis is mine.”

the sound of a door slamming causes the both of you to jump. dixie gives you one last glare before leaving you alone. you topple over and choke out some more petals.

as elvis’ career began to skyrocket, your friendship pummeled. you heard from gladys that elvis had broken things off with dixie right before the school formal. she sounded hopeful, but you knew better.

time flew, and the pain refused to suffice.

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘57

gladys ended up asking you to move in with her and vernon permanently. you had stayed in and out of the presley residence since you were thirteen, but by age eighteen you felt you were burdening them and slept on a cot on the upper level of club handy, it was yours in exchange for some labor.

you accepted her offer only because you knew how lonely she was while her son was out and about. you were lonely too.

one morning, elvis came barging in, his pearly whites on show. you were sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal, startled by the loud noise.

“how ya been, darlin’?” he asks, pulling you up from your chair into a warm embrace.

“good. your mama’s missed you.”

he pulls away with a chuckle, “you say that as if ya didn’t.”

before you can argue, gladys emerges from her room and gives her son a big hug. vernon comes soon after and pats the boy on the back.

“i’ve got a surprise for y’all.”

that day, elvis showed you all your new home. graceland.

𓍊𓋼𓍊

“i see you’ve been gettin’ in a bit of trouble.” you chuckle, handing the raven haired boy a newspaper you had collected. he stands up from his spot on your room floor and joins you on your bed. it’d been a while since you two had spent time together.

elvis doesn’t speak for a while, causing you to look over at him with furrowed brows. you nudge his arm gently.

“you alright satnin?” the nickname slips, but elvis doesn’t seem to mind. he turns onto his side and sighs.

“the colonel says i might be gettin’ drafted.”

the air in your room seems to fall still, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“t-that’s insane! you ain’t did nothin’ wrong but express yourself. your own mama thinks it’s okay!” you sit up from the bed and begin pacing, chewing on your lip, “i oughta give that man a piece of my mind!”

you make a move to leave the room, but elvis grabs your arm.

“it’s no use, darlin’. i followed my heart and i gotta pay the price.” he runs a hand through his hair, a sign that his nerves were getting the best of him. you grab his hand and smile reassuringly albeit the pain you felt in your chest.

“how long will you be gone for?”

“two years.”

“two years?!” you shout back, causing the boy to cover your mouth with his hand.

“goddamn (y/n), you want the whole world to hear? i haven’t even told mama yet.”

you look up at the blue eyed boy with sad eyes, your body noticeably relaxing as you realize how badly he needs a friend right now.

elvis drops his hand from your mouth and allows you to fall into his arms, your arms wrapping tightly around him so as to not let him go.

he sniffles, resting his chin in your hair.

“i’ll look after her, e. i promise.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊

not even six months after elvis was gone, you had found gladys unconscious at the top of the steps. your heart shattered as you fell to your knees, trying to wake the elder woman up.

you couldn’t help the sobs that ripped painfully through your soul. not only had you lost someone who was like a mother figure to you, you had broken your promise to elvis”

vernon came running up the stairs at the sound of your cries, his shaky hands pulling you away from her as he too tried to wake her.

it was no use.

on august 14th, 1958, you had lost the one person who knew of your condition and loved you through it.

elvis came back home for a brief period of time, but it was like seeing a ghost. you stayed to yourself, not having the strength to face him. you knew you should’ve been there for him, but every time you convinced yourself to go, you’d find yourself not able to leave the threshold of your door.

not too long after gladys’ passing, grandma dodger was gone too.

graceland had become the shell of a home. it was typically only you and vernon in the home, cousin billy occasionally making an appearance.

a year passed. you busied yourself with work, going back to bussing tables at club handy.

you hadn’t been sick as much, which seemed to be the only plus to elvis being gone. there were some nights, however, when you would think too hard about what he was probably doing in germany and found yourself coughing up petals.

by the time he had returned, seeing elvis was like seeing a stranger.

you all would eat supper together, but the table was silent.

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘63

today was a day like any other, the three of you sitting at the table, listening to the cheerful sounds from cousin billy and his friends outside.

“‘cilla is movin’ in pretty soon.” elvis speaks after he swallows a bite of his food.

you keep your eyes focused on your food, your throat starting to feel thick.

“that’s great, son! when’s the wedding?”

at the sound of those words, you can’t bear to hear anymore. you excuse yourself from the table and walk to your room.

your stomach churns at the thought of living here, hopelessly in love with your childhood best friend as he married another. it didn’t help that your room was right below his.

your thoughts run wild, tears wetting your eyes as you look around the room and begin frantically throwing stuff into a suitcase.

you can’t stay. it’ll kill you.

with tears still running down your face you make your way into the hall bathroom, grabbing a couple of toiletries to bring along with you.

what you don’t expect is to turn around and walk straight into a strong chest.

“just where do ya think you’re goin’?” his thick southern accept sends a chill down your spine.

you muster enough strength to look him in the eye despite the tears still visibly falling.

“i think it’s about time i go out on my own.” you quickly brush past him and head back to your room, but elvis is hot on your tail.

“no one said you had t’do that.”

“i did.” you continue packing your stuff, more furiously than before, “you haven’t even paid me any mind since mama died. i’m not stayin’ here feelin’ like a burden any longer.”

elvis snatches your suitcase from you, not paying any mind to the contents that spray all over. his usually lively blue eyes are dark, storms thundering in them.

“you were the one who stopped payin’ me any mind.”

you ignore him, bending down to pick up your items. you continue to walk around him, packing more things as he stands there, discontent radiating from his body.

the taller male grabs you by the arm, keeping you in place right in front of him.

“look at me, darlin’.”

you obey almost immediately, your lip quivering.

elvis’ eyes seem to look at you, really look at you for the first time in years. he hadn’t noticed how frail you’d gotten, how your (e/c) eyes were sunken and dull, how your seemed like you were struggling just to stand. he frowns, wiping a few tears from your cheeks.

“why’re you leavin’ me, (y/n)?”

“i—“

but its cut off by a gag, and the sudden urge to run. he follows you, but youre too fast, slamming the bathroom door in his face and locking it tight.

his head rests against the door as he listens to you retch, his chest constricting in pain at the sound of your cries.

“satnin, you’ve gotta tell me what’s goin’ on.” he calls, but you don’t respond. he stands there for a solid thirty minutes before getting impatient and going to the kitchen to find something to pick the lock with.

the sight before him makes him immediately fall to his knees beside you.

it seemed like you had no energy to even open your eyes, your head laid against the toilet, the contents of your stomach still threatening to escape.

“i’m sorry.” your voice is barely above a whisper, cracky and pained.

the raven haired male brings you to his lap, holding your head against his chest as he reassures you it’ll all be okay.

he couldn’t help but look into the toilet in fear.

no longer were there tiny petals, but full on flowers.

𓍊𓋼𓍊

“how’s (y/n) doing?” priscilla asks her boyfriend, the two of them sat at the table for breakfast.

despite your protests, he had told you to stay. you were too weak to do anything, your condition worsening once priscilla officially moved in.

elvis hadn’t said anything to you about that night, only making sure that the maids brought you food and checked on you hourly.

“she says she’s alright, but she looks worse then ever.”

“do you know who it is?”

elvis only shakes his head, oblivious to the obvious.

“i’m gonna go check on her.” the brunette says softly, leaving a long kiss on elvis’ cheek before heading down the hall.

she knocks gently, hearing a soft and raspy come in from the other side of the door.

you smile at her, sitting up in bed to let her sit next to you. despite the pain it caused you, you could tell that priscilla was good for elvis.

unlike dixie, she cherished the fact that he had grown up with you, always including you and even taking the time to get to know you.

“you doing alright, (n/n)?” she rests her hand on yours, holding it gently.

“i know you know, ‘cilla.” you sigh, a sad expression on your face, “and i’m so sorry. i wish i could change it. i wish it was anyone but him.”

priscilla tuts, “don’t say that, love. we can’t control who we fall for.”

“did you tell him? he seems distant.”

“he’s just really worried for you, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. i know you guys had a rough patch but you’ve always had a special place in his heart. he used to tell me stories about your childhood all the time in germany.” the brunette hands you the glass of water on your nightstand as she notices you struggling to clear your throat, “you should tell him now, (y/n).”

you quickly shake your head, “it won’t change anything. he loves you.”

“quite frankly i think he’s just settling for me.” the girl chuckles solemnly, “i wont let you die without having tried. i’ll tell him to come to you now.”

priscilla doesn’t give you a chance to turn her down, leaving a small peck on your forehead and rushing out the room.

minutes later, elvis comes in with a concerned look.

“‘cilla said you needed me. you alright, doll?”

you nod, motioning for him to join you on your bed. he obeys, sliding his shoes off and sitting criss cross applesauce beside you. you can’t help but giggle at the sight, his long limbs looking uncomfortable.

you grab his hand once he’s situated, not able to ignore the wince as he notices your frail hand.

“there’s something i need to tell you.”

“what is it, (y/n)?”

“i’m sure you’ve been rackin’ your brain tryna figure out why i have this disease.” you sigh, acknowledging the small nod he gives you, “a-and i’m sorry i kept it hidden from you for so long. i first found out about it when i turned eighteen. it was little petals here and there, and i would only cough. b-but as time passed, it progressed. it didn’t take long for me to connect the dots. for me to realize that it was happening because i…”

elvis looks at you expectantly, having craved this moment since he held you on that bathroom floor.

“you can tell me, baby. i want to help you anyway i can.” he brushes a lone tear off your cheek.

“it was happening because i fell in love with you.”

you close yours, not strong enough to look in your best friend’s eyes and see nothing but rejection. you’re surprised when you feel his hand caress your cheek.

“open your eyes, darlin’.”

and you do. and your pounds at how close he is to you, how his eyes search your face desperately for signs of a lie. you furrow your brows.

“why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

elvis laughs, a few tears springing to his eyes. “cause it’s always been you.”

“don’t do that.” you beg, “i’ve known you for forever elvis. i watched you go after women day and night.”

“because i thought i couldn’t have you, (y/n). like you said, you’ve known me for forever. i didn’t think you could see me as anything more than family.”

you laugh at that, bewildered at the secrets suddenly coming to light. had you really been so blind?

“‘member when we were kids, livin’ at the home on audubon? mama had set up a lil makeshift tent for us in the backyard and we would spend every weekend in it?”

you nod, “what about it?”

“th-there was one weekend when we decided to stay the night out there, and we were watching the stars. i looked over at you a-and i just knew. i even told mama that morning i was gon’ marry you one day.”

you giggle through your tears, searching his eyes for truth and finding all of the above.

“why’d it take so long, e?” you whimper, the memories of all those lonely nights of pain and puking resurfacing.

“i lost who i was, baby. at first i was just scared, and then all of a sudden my career took off, then mama died, and i…i’m so sorry.”

he rests his forehead against yours, pulling your weak body into him.

you want to kiss him. you want to seal the deal now. you’re ready to spend the rest of your life with him, not wanting to waste another second.

but, “what about priscilla?”

elvis sighs, about to open his mouth to speak but the girl herself cuts him off.

“priscilla will be okay.” she says from the doorway, her own set of tears collecting in her eyes, “i’m just glad you’ll live, (n/n).”

you force yourself to get up, legs shaky as you make your way to the brunette and engulf her in a hug.

“thank you so much.” you sniffle.

“i’m going to go pack.” she smiles grievously, “i’d better get going.”

you nod, making your way back to your bed. elvis gives you a look and you nod, watching as he quickly follows after her.

“‘cilla.” he calls, stopping her on the steps.

“it’s okay, elvis. i knew the moment you started talking about her that it wasn’t meant to be.”

“can i at least have one of my men drive you?” he asks.

priscilla doesn’t see a point in opposing, so she nods. the taller of the two nods as well, before taking her into a gentle hug.

“you’re always welcome here, okay?”

“okay.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘67

“hold on, let me get a picture of the newlyweds!” vernon smiles, snapping a quick shot of you and elvis.

despite his career, elvis wasted no time in taking the next steps with you. fifteen years was too long to have missed with you, so he made time for you everyday.

you look over at the man before you, amazed at how much more handsome he’d gotten throughout the years. your heart was pounding happily in your chest, still half expecting this to be a dream.

your wedding was small, held in the meditation garden at graceland.

as your reception came to a close and guests began to leave, you and elvis held one another, swaying to the soft music playing from the record player.

the raven haired man kisses the top of your head, your nose, your cheek, and then your lips.

you hum in content, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i love you, sugar.” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“i love you t-“ you run down the hall to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as you fall to the ground and let out a heave.

elvis, as usual, is on your tail. he rubs your back soothingly, whilst pinching his nose at the smell.

you flush the toilet and brush your teeth, heart fluttering as you look in the mirror and catch elvis eyeing you adoringly.

“mama would be proud.” he smiles, hands snaking around your wakes and resting on your tough stomach.

you can’t help but smile back, your stomach fluttering. only this time, it was the result of your love and not the lack thereof.

[dulcewrites]

could you do some austin angst where he cheats on the reader with olivia while filming and they have a baby together and a little later on they are co parenting austin’s single but when the reader drops their son off at austin’s house she tells him she’s going on a date and he gets jealous and then whatever ending u want

Strangers by Nature

Pairings: austin butler x reader (wc: 1.4k)

Warnings: mentions of cheating, austin being messy and possessive

Requested: yes (thank you I like this idea) . This lowkey took a different turn than I thought I would but I think it’s pretty good so I hope you enjoy it as well

A/N: I don’t know why some my personal ideas about what to write make austin a little… toxic? It could be me projecting to find something wrong with him lol. I want to write more about him but I am someone who normally stays away from reading/writing about real people myself. Anyway [insert disclaimer about me not knowing austin, this being fiction, and people needing to be respectful and understand boundaries when writing about real folks]. Also I was slightly inspired by the “when you’re 40, and I’m 50 we’ll be back together” scene from Elvis (2022).

timeline clear up: austin is 31, you’re 29 in 2022. You guys were together for around 9 years in 2020 (when he cheated). You had your son in 2016 (so he is 6 in 2022, he’s a cancer sun with a leo moon lol)

You keep going over how the conversation will go in your head. What he is going to say, and what you’re going to say in rebuttal. Maybe you shouldn’t even tell him about the date? The car ride over to Austin’s place is filled with thoughts being so loud you feel a headache coming on. The only thing competing with your loud thoughts is Mateo’s loud singing.

Well, at least you can say the private school music classes are paying off.

Once you get in the driveway. You for a moment, leaning your head against the steering wheel to take a moment to breathe. You and Austin have been coparenting for two years now, and the drop offs are still not easy.

“Mommyyyyyy, go in,” Mateo starts to whine.

You sigh and give him a smile in the review mirror before getting out. As you take him out of his booster seat, he whispers in your ear.

“Daddy said he’s gonna teach me guitar.”

You raise an eyebrow. Sometimes you resent it; how Austin gets to be the fun, artistic parent that connects with Mateo on that level. You don’t have an artistic or creative bone in your body, it’s the reason why you work in software development. Mateo is fascinated with what his dad does. Hell, you were fascinated too when Austin and you met.

“Sounds fun baby.”

You grab his bag and walk him up to the door. You watch as he happily bounces on his feet to the tune of the doorbell, waiting for Austin to come to the door. The door swings open; Austin’s attention instantly go down to Mateo, and he picks him up into a big hug. There is something special about watching them interact; two peas in a pod.

Austin and you share a less than graceful side hug. It’s more him putting his arm around you, and you trying not to be awkward about it.

“We need to talk,” he whispers in your ear. Well, that’s cryptic.

You and Austin often don’t have long unmediated conversations about things outside of Mateo because it always ends in someone getting their feelings getting hurt. It’s hard to swallow that there was a time where he was your best friend. The person you told everything to.

Despite the confusion, you followed him into the house towards the kitchen.

“Buddy, why don’t you go put your stuff away and we’ll call you down when mom is about to go.”

Mateo takes off to his room. There’s a beat of silence before Austin starts.

“So, how are you?” his smile is breezy, and his tone is light. Too light.

“I’m fine,” you reply slowly. Did you really need to come in for this? He could’ve texted.

“The funniest thing happened last week,” he says, leaning against the kitchen island. “Matty came up to me and was like ‘daddy, I have a secret’.”

Mateo is in this phase where he thinks everything is a secret. If he must use the restroom, it’s a secret. If he wants to wear blue instead of red, it’s a secret. He saw a lizard at recess. A secret.

“And he then he says, ‘mommy is doing something special on Saturday’,”

Your stomach drops into your ass. Not your baby being the person who rats you out. How did he even know? Oh god, do you talk that loud on the phone? This is not how you wanted this to come out. Then you remember, you’re an adult. Who cares what Austin thinks?

“Well, now that you mention it,” you try to sound as nonchalant as possible. “I do have a date tomorrow.”

The last first date you went on was with Austin… in 2011. You haven’t been “on the market” since your late teens. To say you’re nervous about the whole thing is putting it lightly. The last thing you need is Austin browbeating you about it.

“Now that I’ve mentioned it. You’re joking right?”

“I was going to tell you,” You quickly reply.

And you were… sometime soon. If it wasn’t today or tomorrow, it would’ve been sometime next week. He doesn’t have a right to be mad or to be giving you the look he is right now. As if he’s betrayed by the fact you would want to date. You should’ve been expecting this. Dr. Shula, your family therapist, said dating was going to be a tricky thing for you two to navigate.

You honestly thought he would be the first one to take the plunge. But maybe that’s your resentment talking.

“Are you doing this to punish me,” he huffs. “I say I want to make us work, and you go and do this.”

You always knew Austin regretted what he did, and that all he wants is for things to go back to how they were. It’s just something you’ve always shot down. Sometimes you wondered if he says it because that’s the “right” thing to say after you cheat.

“Because I got the hint when you didn’t come to any premieres.”

And there it is. He said he didn’t mind, but you knew better. The biggest moment in his career, and he was alone. A part of you did feel bad every time you declined. Or when you offered sending Matty there, and making it clear you wouldn’t join. But now having it thrown back in your face made your blood boil a bit.

Why would you want to go and pretend to be happy about a movie that basically ruined your relationship? Be around the person who helped him fuck it all up.

You were ready to be there for every premiere, talk to him about every interview, cheer him on about this role that meant so much to him. He’s the one that changed that.

“You really don’t get it do you?” you ask with a cynical chuckle; you can’t help but laugh. He’s never going to get it because despite the ups and downs you had over your relationship, you never broke his trust the way he broke yours.

“I thought… I thought things were turning around after I came back,” he says, sounding defeated.

Your shoulders drop and let out a sigh. He’s talking about when he was sick after filming. When you came and stayed with him. It was the first time the three of you were in that house together since early 2020.

“Austin, you know me better than that. If you need help, I’m not going to turn my back on you,” you try to sound sympathetic. You hadn’t seen Austin like that in long time. That low. “You’re the father of my child. You’re wellbeing matters to me.”

“So, that’s all it was. You 'taking care of the father of your child'.”

You can’t look him in eye for too long. He knows it’s more than that. You know it’s more than that. But you don’t know if you’re ready to say that again. Ready to put that much faith in him again.

“Look, I know this isn’t want you want,” you lean over and grab his hand. “But you need to let me do this.”

The next part is implied. Let you do this and then you can make up your mind. Maybe you’ll be ready to try again. Maybe it will be the risk you you need to take to get over him.

“You know you’re it for me right,” he squeezes your hand. “We’re gonna come back together after we figure this out.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. That’s the scary part; he might be it for you too, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You wipe your face, and try to pull yourself together before calling out Mateo’s name.

You say your goodbyes to him before sending him back to play then turn to Austin.

“Stay safe. If anything happens tomorrow, you call me immediately,” Austin’s voice reminds you of how he talks Mateo when he really needs him to listen.

“Ok dad,” you joke before surprising both yourself and him by pulling him into a hug. Despite how you two go at each other, you don’t enjoy seeing him upset. It doesn’t give you the satisfaction you hope it would.

“I love you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. He loves you. You simply hum in response. Is love always enough?

[beeandheroddobsessions]

Drop It!

Warnings: Supernatural elements. Dead!Elvis. Reader’s father is dead. Reader denotes elvis to his face. Dilapidated Graceland.

Summary: It’s move-in day! Reader spends the day fixing up the house. By the end of the night, she just wants to relax but something, or someone, needs to talk to her.

A/N: I am fully aware that graceland is cared for and not at all in ruin but the story calls for it. I put a lot of thought into this series and i really want everyone to enjoy it! The story is inspired by my house and what it’s like living here. though i’ve never come face to face with my goulish friends, i do respect them. A small bit, while comical, is something i actually did experience. Granted, i never spoke to anyone, or at least, never got an audible response. Most of this series includes odd happenings that i’ve dealt with. Isn’t that fun? Non-beliver or not, i hope you enjoy it. Happy reading- Bee💕

September 2023

The keys resting in your palms bring nothing but joy, even after dealing with a snippy mother and grumbling movers on an overcast Thursday afternoon. It should've been alarming, the way that realtor hightailed it off the property, but you were just glad to get your hands on what once was a beautiful home.

Graceland had nearly fallen to ruin; once the previous owner's legacy began to deteriorate, so did respect for the house. Squatters, Drug dealers, vandals, this house has seen it all. Yet, under all that muck and destruction, you saw a chance to restore its beauty.

Your mother was a bit...perturbed by the decision, wondering what she had done in your childhood that could've led to this point. When the idea was first pitched, she laughed it off, assuming it was another one of your odd bouts, like it was some fairytale. So imagine her surprise when you tossed the paperwork onto the breakfast table.

Your mother's concerns only doubled when she actually saw the house. Move-in day is supposed to be exciting, and for you, it is. Pushing past the doors into your new home is something magical. You don't know where to start. The kitchen? The front room? Upstairs? It's all so tempting.

"Mama, this place, it's so beautiful. Doesn't it jus' make you wanna cry?" You exclaim, unable to contain the excitement rushing through your body.

"...That's...well, that's one way to put it." your mother says, watching for possible loose beams as you traverse through the house.

You kiss your teeth at her tone and begin rattling on about your ideas for the space.

"I can fix her up in no time. We can start with the walls; they only need a few patches and a fresh coat a' paint. Oh! And then we can work on the floors. And I'm sure we can find some replicas or have 'em made. I think-"

"Y/n!" your mother interrupts, "Rome wasn't built in a day, baby. Don't get too ahead of yourself. You already broke the bank buyin' this...place and-"

You shake your head "Mama, don't you know who used to live here? Daddy woulda-"

The older woman before you holds up her hand, face dropping into an unamused expression. "Don't compare me to your daddy; we never did have the same tastes. And of course, I know; Elvis was my crush before you were even thought of."

You tilt your head, shifting to move a box. "But you just said you n' daddy didn’t have the same-"

She cuts you off before you can finish your thought. "Hush up and listen to your mama." A chuckle leaves your mouth as she scolds you.

"After all this time, daddy still can't catch a break?"

Your mother lets out a saddened sigh, "Well, he may not be here physically, but pokin' fun at him is the only way I know he's still around."

Your shoulders drop, and you set the box down. Your father passed away six years ago; he didn't want his family knowing he was sick. You thought it was a cruel joke, some twisted prank set to traumatize you forever. The wails your mother let out that night on the kitchen floor told you otherwise. She tries to pretend but hasn't been the same since—the idea of remarrying tossed to the wind like a dandelion's pappi.

"Mama, don't you think daddy would've wanted you to let him go?" you lament, hoping your mother would consider it this time. But, alas, the notion is shot down once again.

"You may not believe in ghosts or the afterlife, y/n, but I do. Your daddy is always with me. It wouldn't be right to get hitched in his face."

You shrug and continue unpacking, "If you say so mama, I jus couldn't imagine stickin' it out till the very end." That statement seems to tickle your mama pink. "You ain't never been in love, sugar pie. When you meet your mister right, you'll know what I mean."

You purse your lips. Even while talking about her dead husband, she hints at your sad love life. To you, love is just a feeling, and the dead are just that, dead. So your mother's musings about 'ghosts' and 'true loves' are nothing short of fantasy in your world.

"O...kay. Well, we've got a lot to do, and we've been talkin' bout nothin' for ten whole minutes. Let's hop to it!"

Your mother rolls her eyes, "This ain't my dream house, honey. I ain't GOT to do nothin' but stay black and die."

"Oh, here you go with that mess. You agreed to help your only baby move in so that I wouldn't 'die in my sleep cause some spider decided to munch on me,' so don't give me none of that." You mock.

Your mother pops your arm and grabs a broom. "You yo' daddy's daughter, alright. Couldn't have got that mouth from me." She mutters.

For the next four hours, the two of you dispose of odd findings, scrub, wash, disinfect, and grumble through the house. By the time you finish, the home is as clean as clean gets. The sun has set, and all you want to do is eat and sleep. The last thing to set up is the bedroom.

You feel a little strange sleeping in a room that once belonged to such a legend, but he isn't here, and the house belongs to you. The wall of TVs would be dealt with later. For now, a flatscreen was simply placed in front of them; aside from that, you pre-ordered replicas of the bedroom furniture, not wanting to personalize too much.

After kissing your mother goodbye, you trudge up the stairs, stopping halfway to crack your back. Once you return to the master suite, flopping on the bed only seems fitting. A groan escapes you as you realize you still need to shower. Rolling over, you grab a towel from your suitcase, lay out some pajamas on the center of the bed, and head for the bathroom.

While waiting for the water to warm, perched on the porcelain throne, the lights flicker. You'll need to replace the bulbs later; simple fix.

When the water reaches hell, you waste no time jumping in. It soothes your aching body, and all of the tension from today washes down the drain. You hum a nonsensical tune to keep you entertained while you clean away the dirt and grime. In the middle of the improvised song, a crash steals your attention.

You finish rinsing and shut off the water, quickly making your way to the bedroom door. You aren't going to investigate; too bright (or too experienced in the horror genre) to even give that a thought. No, you lock the door and mind your business; that is a morning problem.

When you turn back to retrieve your nightwear, you find them on a chair in the corner of the room. Odd. You could've sworn you left them in the middle of the bed. Whatever, you think as you throw them on.

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, you grab the remote and turn the TV on—finally, a moment of peace. You flick through Netflix, desperate to find good background noise. Landing on your favorite show, 'The Good Place,' is enough for you. It's ironic, don't believe in anything after death, or love, and here you are, watching two dead people fall in love.

Halfway through Episode six, the source of entertainment shuts off. You huff; it was getting good too. The remote is behind you, out of reach, so you aren't exactly sure what could've caused this.

"Probably just a glitch," you mumble, turning the TV back on and resuming your minor addiction. This time, you place the remote on the dresser, ensuring no interruptions.

Despite your effort, it happens again; A guttural noise leaves your body. You're broke in a house that's falling apart with no man, pets, and no energy. TV is the one pleasure you have left, and even that is beginning to frustrate you.

Repeating the process, you hold the remote in your hands, eyebrows raised, daring your peace to try and leave again. After a few moments, you sigh in relief as the halfway point passes and set the remote down. As soon as it comes in contact with the plush, black comforter, the TV again fails you.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." You exclaim.

"Ladies shouldn't swear; ain't attractive." A voice bellows from behind you. A shrill shriek is all that is heard as you scramble off the bed. Your eyes search for the source but find nothing. Slowly, you creep toward the bed and snatch up the remote. "Can't go downstairs till morning, and I'm losin' it in here. What a night." You whisper.

A shiver rolls through your body, and you decide it's better to sit on the floor. Again you try with your tv (which you will be returning in the morning), and of course, that doesn't last long.

"Sugarpie, I don't wanna see that junk. If you're gon' watch somethin' in my bed, I suggest it be somethin' good. Not some trash show that don't know the first thing bout bein' dead." The strange voice booms again.

This time when you jump out of your skin and turn to face the intruder, you see what you can only assume to be the world's most accurate Elvis impersonator.

"What the hell are you doin' in my house?!" You screech, "Get out! Get the hell out."

The man before you is nowhere near ready for the projectiles flying his way. Clothes, shoes, books, and a stuffed bear. You name it; it's flying at his head.

"Hey! I—I said—, goddamn! You got an arm on ya! Put the—,"

Elvis can't even finish his sentence as you continue to fling whatever you can at him.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House!" You grunt, each word punctuated with the throw of an object. The tall, blue-eyed stranger ducks and dodges with precision, but when he sees you getting ready to toss a picture frame, one you no doubt failed to realize the importance of in your defensive state, the fun and games stop.

"Drop it! Drop that damn picture right now! Your mama would tan your hide for days if she saw that you broke that frame." Elvis booms.

Your chest is heaving, and you blink, glancing over at the photo.

"S'your daddy, right? Y'all were talkin' in the kitchen bout how it's the last thing he gave ya. You promised ta take care of it. So drop it."

You nod and gently place the photo on the bed, reaching for a good substitute.

"Jus—Just how long have you been here?" you question, ready to launch the lamp in your hand. Elvis ponders for a moment. "What year is it?" He asks, seeming genuine. You quirk an eyebrow, unamused with the game he's playing. "You can't be serious."

He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an actual answer. Your phone is across the room, and the chances of getting past this psycho-wannabe Elvis are slim to none. So, you entertain him. "It's twenty-twenty-three, you should know that." You say, face stoic.

Elvis's eyes widen, "Twenty- Good lord!" He chuckles in disbelief.

"Well, to answer your question lil' mama, if that's true, I've been here for sixty-six years if you're countin' when I bought the house."

You shake your head; there's no way the idiot in front of you is this dedicated. "Yeah, sure, I reckon you want me to believe you're Elvis Presley himself. Is that what this is? Some attempt to scare me?"

Elvis chuckles and shakes his head, "No, ma'am. Ain't no pretendin' round here. I'm the real deal."

You can't help the cackle that slips past your lips.

"My ass!"

Elvis's smirk fades, "I told ya that shit isn't cute. And if ya don't believe me, try to shake my hand." He says, extending the appendage forward.

You scrunch your nose, "Now, why would I do that?"

He shrugs, hand still held out.

"Well, I ain't goin' nowhere for a long time n' you're the first person to see or hear me in ages. Whether ya do or don't, it really ain't too concernin' for me."

You sigh, knowing this is how dumb girls in movies usually meet their end. Can't believe m'doin' this. Shakily, you extend your hand, and when it meets his, it goes right through. You gasp as the limb turns to smoke before materializing again.

"Sweet jesus," you sputter.

"I wouldn't know if he was sweet, I ain't met him yet." Elvis jokes. You back away, very spooked.

"T-This, this isn't possible. Ghosts they—they aren't-"

"Real?" Elvis cuts you off, "Yeah, I heard that part too, jus didn't wanna scare your mama, so I waited till it was jus you n' me."

You scoff, offended, "My mama gets a pass, and I don't?"

He chuckles and sits on the bed, "She believed, you didn't. For someone with a gift this great, ya sure do love ta act like ya don't know what she's talkin' about."

You fold your arms, looking down, "I don't have-"

"Oh, yes ya do. Don't give me none of that. I spent the whole afternoon chit-chattin' with your old man. "

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. "You spoke to my daddy? How is he? Did he ask bout mama? Because she'd be thrilled. I gave up. I knew I shouldn't have. I'd been tryin' to reach him since he died, but he never-" The smug look on Elvis's face shuts you up.

"Well, first off. Why would ya need to call a man who's in the same house as ya? Second, you'd been tryin' so hard to find happiness for a woman who don't need it, that ya pushed your daddy away anytime he tried. A ghost can only do so much without scarin' someone half to death, baby."

This is all too much; Ghosts exist, Elvis Presley is in front of you, and your daddy hasn't moved on. Mama was right. You lift the covers and shimmy under them.

"I need to sleep on this. Jus—I...I don't know where you go, but scram for the night please."

Elvis chuckles, nodding. In a flash, he evaporates, fumes left behind as he finds another room to settle in.

You breathe through your nose as you think. What a night indeed, miss y/n.

Taglist: @prayerstopresley @powerofelvis @re3kin

[powerofelvis]

DK if you take requests, or wrote this before, but how about Elvis having sex with a woc!reader for the first time? He's never been with a black girl before and he's all cute n' nervous.

Fever Dream

Pairing: Elvis x Black!Reader, Austin!Elvis x Black!Reader

Word Count: 5878

Warning(s): Fluff, Angst (if you squint), SMUT, vaginal fingering, handjob, vaginal penetration

A/N: Here it is finally! I am literally over the moon that I am able to write for my own representation. This is my first time and definitely not my last so I hope this is good. I will continue this story eventually because it’s so damn good.

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The last place you had ever expected to be was in California with your best friend, Tamara. However, you both were huge Elvis fans–Tamara more than you. While you did love his music and his charismatic personality, you didn’t know him from the man on the moon. Tamara had managed to get two front-row seats at Elvis’s Comeback Special. That’s all she talked about for months, leading to you arriving in Burbank. You couldn’t believe it–you were literally days away from finally seeing Elvis Presley in person. While you did bring many outfits that you had never pulled out of your closet, Tamara had to force you along with her to go shopping. “Tam, now I already have clothes. I ain’t buying nothin’ else.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. California was definitely different than Georgia; the humidity didn’t mess up your curly hair.

However, you were already enjoying California. The vibes were all there, you just needed to see Elvis, and your life would be made. Tamara also ensured that you enjoyed yourself after breaking up with your toxic ex. David was sleeping around with the girls who worked at his job all because he was upset because you were not putting out. Your mama had always taught you that you had to love yourself before you could love someone else and that your purity was one of those things that you should give to the person that you loved. You weren’t sure that you loved David. You weren’t even sure that you would marry him; you just put up with him and his cheating ways because he was your first love. You had loved him once, but it was long gone as time passed.

Now that Tamara had sprung this trip on you, you were hoping that you would leave California as a new person. Seeing Elvis was the icing on the cake, but who knows? You could be staying longer than you had planned. “Let’s go run the town, Tam!” You tugged her out of the airport and into the warm California sun.

3 Days Before Comeback Special

You woke up to Tamara shaking you by the shoulders. “Wake up, silly! We got shopping to do!” She laughed as she hopped off of your bed, running into the shared bathroom of the hotel room that you both shared. Your eyes rolled, getting out of bed. “And what time is it?” You looked up at the clock that ticked on the wall. 11:30. “Well, usually your sleepy behind is still in bed. However, we are in California, so we need to have fun while we are here!” She yelled from the bathroom as she got ready. You groaned, digging through the closet as you pulled out a pink and black jumper. The matching black pumps were in your hands as Tamara walked out of the bathroom–fully dressed.

“I honestly can’t believe we are here.” You chuckled, standing in the bathroom mirror, brushing out your now lustrous and thick locks. Your hair was pretty long, even when wet. You decided to embrace your hair today, not wanting to take more time than already needed. “Alright, Tam, let’s go!” You yelled, walking out of the bathroom, grabbing your clutch and the room key. You both set out of the room, ready to paint the town with your besties' shenanigans.

Tamara decided that you both needed to go shopping at one of those nice boutiques. As you were walking down the sidewalk, listening to Tamara go on and on about another Elvis fantasy of hers, you could see a huge crowd of screaming girls in front of the store that you wanted to go into. “Now, what are we gonna do?” Tamara clicked her tongue, turning to look at you. “We are gonna get in there; we came all the way down here, and for what?” You were surprised at how you grumbled, feeling annoyed that the store was blocked in. You grabbed Tamara by the hand, pushing through all of the screaming women, before pushing open the door to the boutique. You stood in the doorway, inspecting your hair again, ensuring that those crazed lunatics didn’t mess up your afro-natural hair. However, you could have been in the same store with another lunatic because Tamara nearly knocked you over. “Tam!” You glared, falling into a body. “I’m so sorry!” You turned to the person, apologizing profusely.

There in front of you was Elvis Presley. “Holy-!” You nearly swore but bit your tongue to keep the words from pouring out. Tamara screamed, bringing you out of your thoughts as if they were a fever dream. “Tamara, don’t scream in the poor man’s face. That’s rude.” You snapped, popping her hand. “It’s quite alright, baby, do you want an autograph? Tamara, is it?” His southern drawl droned out like hot butter on a biscuit. Tamara gripped your arm, shaking you wildly as you both witnessed Elvis signing an autograph for your friend. You chuckled, allowing your friend to at least enjoy herself because it’s not every day that you meet your idol in person. “What about you, sugar?” He asked, tilting his head to look at you. “Oh no, I’m-” “Y/N! That’s her name!” Tamara yelped out, giving you a look of disbelief. She knew that you were only trying to play coy, but as your best friend, she wouldn’t let you miss out on getting Elvis’s autograph. Elvis chuckled, writing on the paper before handing you both the individual pieces that each had your name written in his infamous handwriting.

“Say, are y’all doing anything on the 3rd?” He asked, his eyes not leaving your frame. “Yes! We are actually here for the comeback special!” Tamara spoke, looking between the two of you. Tamara knew that look that Elvis was giving you–it was as if he had been enchanted by your beauty. She did agree with him because you were a beautiful woman. From your magnificently thick locks to your bronze complexion, darkly golden eyes to match. Elvis looked happy to hear this from Tamara, his icy blue eyes looking you over once again. “Well, I want to invite y’all to my house for a party after the special. Just a thank you for being sweet.” He smiled, writing down his address before handing it over to you. Your fingers reached up to take the paper from him, his fingers slightly sliding against yours. Your heart could have jumped out of your chest at the contact, but you decided to play it cool. “Well, I’m sure Tamara will be dragging me there so we can see you again.” You smiled at him.

“I hope to see you again, sugar.” He smirked before turning away to leave the store, and both of your mouths gaped.

Two Days Before Comeback Special

“You have to call him Y/N!” Tamara tells you for the 50th time since your interaction with Elvis at the boutique the day before. “And say what?” You looked over at her, popping another peanut into your mouth as you both sat on your shared bed. “Uh, how about that you would want to see him again!” She laughed, grabbing a pretzel before popping it into her mouth. “Yeah, right. He was probably just looking to score with me. I’m not stupid; the man is a damn sex symbol, for crying out loud.” You weren’t sure if you wanted to go down this road, especially with Elvis Presley. He had women throwing themselves at him left and right, so why would you be special? There was no way that he would be interested in you anyway–right?

“So? Call him, or I’ll call him for you!” She laughed as she grabbed the paper that adorned his phone number. “Alright! Alright! I’ll call ‘im.” You rolled your eyes as you walked over to the phone that sat on the bedside table. You weren’t exactly sure what to say to him, but you would call him so Tamara would leave you in peace. After pacing the floor for what felt like hours, you picked up the phone, dialing his number. It rang for what felt like forever before a voice picked up on the other end. “Hello?” The voice on the other end didn’t sound like Elvis. You were beginning to feel like he had given you the wrong number as a prank. “Uhm, is there an Elvis Presley there?” Your voice came out in a squeak, putting your hand over the bottom of the phone as you cleared your throat. “I’m sorry, is Elvis there? This is Y/N; he gave me this number.” You spoke with more confidence, biting your bottom lip. “Oh yes, let me get him for you.” The voice said before you could hear him yell out for Elvis.

“Yeah, Pa?” You could hear his southern drawl, and your heart picked up speed once again. Then you looked over at Tamara, who was still sitting on the bed, watching you closely as if she was watching her favorite movie. “It was his dad!” You mouthed, eyes wide as you realized that you were talking briefly to Vernon Presley. “Hello? Sugar?” His voice came through the phone. “Oh..hey, I was calling you because you gave me your number?” You said, biting your lip again. You looked over at Tamara, who face palmed before shaking her head. You were hopeless, you know. “Yeah, I wanted to see you again before the special, if that’s alright with ya?” He chuckled, clearly noticing how nervous you sounded over the phone. “Why do you wanna see me again exactly?” You asked, confused that he would waste his time on a girl who wasn’t even into his scene. Elvis chuckled, shaking his head as if you could see him.

Ever since he saw you, he couldn’t get you out of his head. You were standing in the boutique with your friend, playing like you were shy–-but he knew better. You were oozing confidence, and he loved that about you. Your honey molten eyes could stare into his soul, and he would open his soul for you to do so. Your bronze complexion had him on his knees; what he would give to run his hands over your body as he held you in his arms. He didn’t just want sex with you, and he wanted you to believe him, even if you didn’t. “Sugar, I really wanted to see you again. No funny business.” He swore as he played with the phone cord lying against the wall. “Let me take you out. I promise if you don’t like me afterward, I ain’t gonna bother you again.” He said seriously.

“Okay, I’ll try it out.” You gave in, wanting to see him again. You may have acted as if you were a tough nut to crack, but you would be a fool if you were to turn Elvis Presley down.

1 Day Before Comeback Special

You were sitting in the bed, watching Tamara run around the room as she tried to gather your outfit for your little date tonight with Elvis. Elvis said that he would pick you up from the hotel around 7. It was 5 PM, and you weren’t even worried in the least. “Am I the only person that is freaking out over YOUR date tonight?” She stood there, pulling at your arm before pushing you into the bathroom. “Shower girl! You need to smell good just in case he decides to try something.” She joked. “Elvis said that he’s not gonna try anything, so get your head out of the clouds because he ain’t getting in your drawers. Thank you.” You rolled your eyes before getting in the shower. Even though you weren’t freaking out on the outside, you were definitely freaking out on the inside. Once you were out of the shower, you stood in the mirror in your satin robe, grabbing your curling iron as you curled your hair. After your hair was curled, you decided to go ahead and do something simple with your makeup—something to make your complexion pop.

“Alright, Tam, what do you have for me?” You asked, walking out of the bathroom. Tamara held up a black dress that looked like it would hug all of your curves in the right places. “Elvis is gonna flip seeing you in this, girl!” Tamara smirked, passing the dress to you. “Go get ready; Elvis will be here soon!” She squealed, pushing you back into the bathroom. You chuckled, putting on the black dress before sliding on your black pumps. Since it was December, you covered up your shoulders with a shawl. You walked back out of the bathroom, posing for Tamara. “So?” You asked, sitting down in a chair as you watched Tamara look you over. “Honey, you are gonna knock him dead tonight!” It wasn’t long after that a knock rang out. You stood up, officially freaking out because you knew that it was Elvis.

“Tamara, go get the door! I’m going to check myself over again.” You ran off into the bathroom.

Tamara rolled her eyes, opening the door as she saw Jerry standing there. “Oh, hello!” She waved at him, looking him over. “Elvis didn’t tell us that he had a gorgeous friend.” She smiled. Jerry smiled at her. “Well, I’m here to keep you company while Elvis takes your friend out.” He looked past her, looking for you. “Where is your friend, by the way? Elvis is waiting.” He said. As he spoke, you came out of the room, looking at Tamara and Jerry. “Where is he?” You asked, looking out the door. Elvis peered inside of the room, eyes immediately looking at you before looking you over. He bit his lip, thinking that you were gorgeous. “Are you ready to go, sugar?”

You could have fainted, seeing him look at you like you were the only person in the room. You nodded, walking over to them as you said your goodbyes to Tamara and Jerry. Elvis led you to his car, opening the door for you. Once you got inside, he closed your door before getting in on the other side. “Where are we going tonight?” You asked, playing with your fingers as you looked over at him. You had been on a few dates, but this would be different. You were on a date with Elvis Presley. You were in his car, and he wanted you. “I’m going to take you to this new place where you can fill your belly and dance until your feet fall off.” He chuckled. “Sounds good.” You said, suddenly excited that you were going to dance the night away with him.

He arrived at the club not long after, allowing his car to be taken away by the valet. He took you by the hand, leading you inside. The club was poppin’ off nice; women were grinding against their dates as the music thumped against their bodies. Elvis led you towards the back of the club, sitting down in the booth across from you. You sat down as well, taking in your new environment. You had never been to a place like this, but you loved it. It was as if he knew that you loved to dance. “Do you like to dance, sugar?” He leaned in, his electric blues watching you. You nodded your head, dancing a little to the music that was playing. “I’ve been dancing for most of my life. My mama had me dance when I was younger, and now I work at a dancing studio down in Georgia.” You giggled.

A waiter came by your table, looking over at Elvis with such shock. “You’re Elvis Presley!” He shouted. Luckily for both of you, the music was loud that nobody heard. “Yes, but could ya’ keep that to yourself?” He laughed. The waiter nodded, proceeding to take your orders before walking off star-struck. As the night went on, you truly enjoyed Elvis’s company. He was right about having your belly full because you were filled. “Do you wanna dance, sugar? Show me those moves.” He chuckled, standing up from the booth as he took you by the hand. You giggled, following him to the dance floor as you started moving your hips from side to side. “Come on, Elvis, I’ve seen how you move. You move better than me.” You chuckled as you watched him begin to move his hips. He danced better than you imagined; you could feel yourself fluttering both in your heart and between your thighs as you watched him move.

“I’m having such a wonderful time, E.” You whispered as the song suddenly slowed, pulling him closer to you by his jacket. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you both swayed to the music. “I’m glad that you are, sugar.” He whispered against your ear. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, but he didn’t want to run you away. You looked up at him with your deep brown eyes, and he melted right under your gaze. “I’m pretty nervous about tomorrow, ya’ know? It’s been a long time since I’ve performed in front of people. All I’ve done was these movies that the Colonel signed me up for. I definitely don’t wanna sing Christmas music forever.” He chuckled, but his eyes gave him away. You looked up into his eyes, frowning at his confession. “Only you can find your way back, Elvis. Make music that makes you happy because, at the end of the day, your happiness is what makes your fans happy.” You whispered into his ear. You really did have the touch to say the right things because his eyes shifted after your words. “Come on, let me get ya’ home.” He sighed, tugging you out of the club.

The night was almost over, and you were truly upset. You didn’t want to leave Elvis, but you understood that he had a long day tomorrow before the special would start. As he pulled into your hotel, he looked over at you. “I had a great time, sugar.” He smiled, grabbing your hand as he helped you out of the car. “I did too, E. I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?” You asked, tilting your head to look up at him. He nodded, leaning down to press his lips on your forehead. He didn’t want to kiss you, not yet. The door to your room opened, revealing a disheveled Jerry and Tamara. You giggled, seeing that Tamara was trying to distract you so that Jerry could wipe the lipstick off of his mouth. “Jerry! Let’s go!” Elvis chuckled, looking back at you with a wink before walking back over to his car. Jerry followed on his heels, but not before pressing a kiss to Tamara’s lips. Jerry and Elvis pulled out of the parking lot, leaving you and Tamara staring back at them in awe.

Comeback Special

You were awake before Tamara, looking into the closet for your outfit for the day. The day that you and Tamara visited the boutique, you found the cutest outfit that you wanted to wear for the special. The short and pink dress that you pulled out of the closet had a matching jacket, and you settled for the black pumps that you had worn on your date with Elvis the previous night. “Tamara! Wake up!” You yelled, pulling the covers off of her body. She groaned, turning over to glare at you but was greeted by your smiling face. “Someone is excited to see their man today.” She giggled, sitting up in the bed. You rolled your eyes, a smile gracing your face as you put your outfit down on the bed. “Let’s go to the pool before we get ready for the special later.” You smiled as you reached into your bag, pulling out your swimsuit. Tamara jumped out of the bed, pulling her own swimsuit out of her bag before racing off to the bathroom. You shook your head, getting dressed into your swimsuit, completely taken by your thoughts. The phone rang in your room, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Hello?” “Hey sugar, I wanted to give you a morning call before I get too busy with the special.” Elvis crooned into the phone. You melted, hearing his morning voice. It was raspy, and the southern accent was very visible. You giggled, twirling the cord with your fingers. “Well, hello to you too, E. Tamara and I are going down to the pool before we get ready. I know you’ll put on a helluva show tonight.” You were affirming positive vibes that, hopefully, he kept with him today and throughout his performance tonight. “Thanks, sugar; I can’t wait to see you tonight. Remember that we are having that party afterward!” You both said your goodbyes as Tamara was coming out of the bathroom. She smirked, seeing you walk around the room with a swooning grin on your face. “Was that Elvis?” She smirked, poking you in your side. “Hush, let’s go give you a tan for your Jerry.” You teased, leading her out of the door and down to the pool.

It wasn’t until after three that you and Tamara had gotten dressed and were now heading down to the NBC studio where the special was taking place. Since Tamara had gotten the front row seats, you could find your seats quickly. The studio director was running through the rules with everyone, making sure that they knew that it was going to be filmed. You weren’t listening–looking around for Elvis. “Y/N, it’s not time for him to come out yet.” Tamara giggled, pointing to the studio director who was telling everyone to applaud. You clapped your hands along with Tamara while waiting for Elvis to come out.

Soon enough, the lights dimmed a bit, and the applause sign lit up–causing the whole studio to light up with applauses. “Welcome to the NBC stage, Elvis Presley!” You looked over to where the claps were the loudest, seeing Elvis walk out in a black leather suit. Your jaw dropped to the floor. He looked damn good, and you were sure he knew that too. “Well, shit, he looks fine.” You whispered to Tamara, who was also staring with her jaw slacked. “Yeah, he does! Holy shit, sister!” She grabbed your arm, watching as he walked up on the stage. His eyes immediately found yours, sending a wink your way. You bit your lip, looking him over before smiling at him. You mouthed, ‘Good Luck’ before he walked away to grab his guitar.

Well, since my baby left me

Well, I found a new place to dwell

Well, it's down at the end of Lonely Street

At Heartbreak Hotel

Where I'll be, I'll be so lonely, baby

Well, I'm so lonely

I'll be so lonely; I could die

You clapped along with Tamara as you watched him sing songs that made him happy. You were happy that he was singing songs that made him feel like he was at home. Once he finished singing Heartbreak Hotel, he went into Jailhouse Rock, one of your favorite songs. You could fall over, witnessing Elvis in his element, moving his hips along to the music. “It’s been a long time, baby…a long time.” He smirked as he spoke into the microphone. It took everything in you not to rush on that stage, kissing him all over his face. As the show went on, you realized that he was incredible, and you wanted to spend more time with him. “Tamara, I don’t think I wanna go back to Georgia..” You whispered to her. She gave you a knowing look before taking you by the hand. “I don’t either, Y/N.”

The special was over before you knew it, and you knew that Elvis was waiting for you. Jerry walked up to Tamara, pulling her into his arms before looking over at you. “Elvis is waiting for you backstage.” He smiled, grabbing Tamara by the hand before leading you both towards Elvis’s room. You all made it to his dressing room; Jerry immediately stopped you as the two voices came from the room. “The colonel is in there; just wait out here.” He said as tugged Tamara off to do god knows what. You listened against the door, hearing Elvis speak to this Colonel man about knowing whether he excited an audience–you really couldn’t make out what was being said. The door opened soon after, and a short man with a cane and a hat walked out. His gaze landed on you, and he glared before walking off in the other direction.

“Okay…” You chuckled, walking inside of his dressing room. Elvis was standing with his back toward you as he was watching something on the television that was in his room. “E?” You spoke, walking towards him with a small smile. He turned around, his face immediately lighting up as he opened his arms. You walked over to him, pulling him into a hug. “You were incredible, E! It was amazing!” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. He smiled shyly, hugging you tight against his body. He smelled like cinnamon and aftershave, but it was the best feeling that you had ever smelled. You didn’t want to ask him what was happening with that colonel man because you had him smiling. “Ready for this party?”

The party was at his house, with people all over the place. His bodyguards, who you later learned were called the ‘Memphis Mafia,’ invited what seemed like the entire state there in his home. You sat beside Tamara, listening to her talk to Jerry about things that you could care less about. You were glad that she could find someone who made her happy because she deserved it. Elvis came up behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You giggled, looking up at him. He had changed into a blue button-up shirt, but the two top buttons were undone. You had to hold yourself back from pushing him against the wall. Elvis had seemed to notice that you were holding yourself back, holding you against his body. “I wanna show you something.” He whispered, pulling you away from the party towards his room. Once you made it into his room, he pulled you towards the balcony of his room which showed the entire outskirts of Los Angeles. “I usually come up here when I need space away from everything. It’s so peaceful out tonight.” He hugged you, looking up at the moon that was shining against your bronze skin.

“You’re very beautiful, sugar. I hate that you have to leave tomorrow.” He sighed, holding you tighter. You looked up at him, shaking your head. “Tam and I decided that we are going to stay. I want to stay here with you.” You laid your head on his chest, looking up at the moon. Elvis smiled, turning you to face him. He could have danced, and for very good reason. You were staying for him. For him. He couldn’t wait any longer; he had to make you his. Elvis pressed his lips to yours, wrapping his arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you as your lips moved over his. “Y/N, I can’t stop thinking about ya’. Ever since we met at the boutique the other day, you were always in my head. I just can’t see myself with anybody else but you. Would ya’ be my girl?” Elvis asked, hopeful. You nodded, pulling him back to your lips.

Elvis pulled you back to his bedroom, pressing you against the wall as he looked down at you. You reached up, pressing a heated kiss to his lips before moving your lips down his jawline. He pulled away, looking down at you–his electric blues seeming to have darkened. He pulled away, biting his lip, suddenly becoming nervous. He had never been with a black woman before, so he wanted to ensure he did everything right. You were different than the other girls he had bedded before. Your brow arched, looking up at him, confused. “I’ve never-I’ve never been with a black woman before, sugar.” He whispered, looking away with a blush that spread across his cheeks. “Is that what you’re worried about, Elvis? Underneath my skin, I bleed the same as you. I have the same anatomy as all other women.” You chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt. “I want you.” You pushed his shirt off of his shoulders before pressing a longing kiss to his shoulder blade.

That was enough to push Elvis forward. He pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss, laying you back on his bed. You sat up, pulling your jacket off of your shoulders before unzipping your dress. You hurriedly pulled your dress off, revealing a white laced matching lingerie set that Tamara had made you wear. You silently thanked her, pulling Elvis against your body–lips pressing against his once again. This kiss was passionate–teeth clattering and tongues dancing with one another. You reached down, unbuttoning his slacks before pulling them down his legs. “Touch me, Elvis.” You whispered breathlessly. His hands shook as his fingers ran down your arms, the feeling being better than he had imagined. His lips pressed kisses along your neck, reaching behind you to undo your bra. When your breasts were free, he sucked in a breath–rubbing his fingers over your nipples. Your back arched against his hands, wanting more.

Elvis stepped out of his slacks, pulling his shoes off in the process. He crawled on the bed, pulling you into his arms as he placed kisses along the underside of your right breast before moving to the other. “You’re so so beautiful, sugar.” He whispered as his tongue swiped along your right nipple. You wanted him so bad, the heat rising in your stomach as your legs shook at the pleasure. He kissed down the swell of your breasts until he reached the top of your panties. He looked up at you–his eyes asking for permission as he ran his fingers along the fabric that covered your cunt. You nodded your head, giving him permission to continue. He tugged your panties off slowly, his blue eyes never leaving your face. His fingers moved along your thighs, spreading your legs apart. Your breath hitched in your throat, watching him as his fingers tickled the inside of your thighs.

He slid two of his fingers inside of you as his eyes continued to watch the expressions that you would make. “Ah E..” You groaned out, your head falling back into the mattress. Elvis was in love with everything about you and now to see your face contorted in pleasure, it was like he was in the presence of God himself. His fingers pumped inside of you, his lips running across his lips. “Don’t tease me.” You groaned, sitting up as you grabbed for his boxers. “Let’s take these off so I can see you.” You tugged his boxers off of his body, revealing his hardened pink shaft. This was your first time being with a white man but for a white man, he was well endowed. You pulled him down on the bed, grabbing his dick. You spit on your hand, moving your hand along the shaft. Elvis could have died seeing you pump his dick in your hands.

You bit your lip, watching his writhe underneath you. “I need you inside of me, right now.” You groaned, pulling away as you crawled on top of him. He grabbed your hips, looking up at you with a smile. “Are you sure, baby?” He asked, looking up at your beautiful face, asking your permission one last time. You needed him badly, so you nodded. “Yes baby, I need you.” He grabbed his dick, aligning with your entrance before slowly pushing inside of you. The stretch that came next was painful but it had soon subsided. Elvis sat there, waiting for you to get comfortable as he sat up, kissing your chest. You groaned, grinding your hips along his lap. “I’m ready baby, I’m ready.” Elvis didn’t need to be told twice, thrusting up into you slowly. You placed your hands on his chest, grinding your hips against his.

“Sugar, you feel so good.” He moaned, lacing his fingers with yours as he continued pumping into you slowly. It felt like you were floating in pleasure, throwing your head back—moaning loudly. Elvis groaned at the sight, speeding up as he watched your breasts bounce with each thrust. He watched your brown eyes close with pleasure, your curls bouncing freely as he fucked up into you. Your moans sounded like music to his ears, he wanted more. He needed you. Now that he finally had you, he wasn’t going to let you go. “Please—harder..” You moaned out, grinding down against his thrusting hips. He flipped you down on the bed, grabbing your legs before wrapping them around his waist. He pounded into you harder, pressing his lips to yours. Your fingers ran through his black locks, tugging softly.

His hair stuck to his forehead, sweat glistening on his brow as he pounded harder into you. Your nails dug into his back as you squeezed your legs around his waist tighter. “I’m gonna cum, E.” You groaned as you pressed your lips to his neck, sucking marks on his skin. He groaned, nearing his end quicker than he had wanted. He rubbed circles on your clit, groaning in your ear. Your back arched, the coil in your stomach snapping, throwing you headfirst into your orgasm. You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back harder. He groaned at the feeling, pulling out of you as he pumped his cock with his hand. He groaned, releasing his seed on your stomach. “Fuck sugar….” He moaned out as he laid beside you in the bed. You giggled, sitting up in the bed, grabbing the tissues out of the box next to the bed. You cleaned off your stomach and his cock before throwing the tissues in the wastebasket.

You laid back in his arms, catching your breath. “That was amazing for my first time, Elvis.” You giggled. “You were too cute too.” You teased, thinking about earlier when he was asking for permission and blushing at the thought of having sex with you. Elvis pressed a kiss to your forehead, lacing your fingers with his. “Why don’t you and Tamara move in with us at Graceland?” He asked, looking over at you. Your brow arched, looking up at him. “You want us to move in with you?” You asked quietly. “Yeah, why not? I want to be with you and you want to be with me, right?” He pressed his lips on your knuckles. “Yeah I do. I just don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t intrude, baby, I want to be with you all the time.”

“Okay baby, count me in.” You smiled, snuggling into his arms. You dozed off in his arms with the thoughts of how this trip turned out to be better than you imagined.

[friedwangsss]

LET’S PLAY HOUSE. | austin!elvis x black reader (part 5)

notes : “elvis wants to play house with you if you know what he means.”

extra notes : it’s been a good minute since i’ve updated our favorite almost couple. enjoy. also note this is probably a little longer than the other parts but hey, when i want to deliver, i want to deliver. it was fully finished at 2:10pm so if there are any typos, blame it on the lack of sleep lmfaoo.

it had been about a week since you had last seen elvis.

not being able to keep in contact with him kinda hurt but you knew that because of his career and all that, it would be hard. especially since you both left off on a rather steamy note.

elvis pressed his lips to yours as soon as you nodded your head to his request. he wasted no time placing his hands on your hips and gripping them lightly. he wanted to breathe you in so badly.

his tongue licked your bottom lip and you allowed him to slip his tongue in your mouth to mesh with yours. you didn’t know how you were managing to keep quiet because elvis was making you want to scream.

elvis pulled away, “gotdamn, you sure know how to kiss.”

“me? el, you literally took my breath away.” your hands rubbed his cheeks and pecked his lips, knowing that if you went in deeper, you wouldn’t come out. “i promised my momma i’d let you leave at a reasonable time so as much as i don’t want you to leave, you gotta go, baby.”

“man, my own love kicking me out. see, if we lived together in our own place, i’d stay in your arms as long as i wanted.”

“my own love.” was the thing that stuck with you the most.

you and elvis were never together like a couple but you definitely did things that couples did, especially when you were younger. the kiss that you and elvis shared as older adults made you wonder where you really stood with him.

you figured you probably shouldn’t dwell on it too much because you didn’t want to get the very wrong impression, even if you felt deep down that he liked you.

regardless, you moved on with your life and helped your mom with mending some clothes, a little side thing you did with her to make a little bit of money. she had asked you a few times about elvis but you hadn’t known much other than what you’d see on TV.

he looked like he was enjoying his life and you were happy for him.

the next week you found yourself back in the four walls of club handy, this time with a date who you actually enjoyed the presence of. terese was dancing on the floor to the new artist, little richard, who was making the whole building jump and jive.

“you wanna dance a little, y/n?” your date had asked you. “i can tell you like the music.”

“uh, yeah. i’m just not sure i can keep up with the music.”

“let’s just try,” he grabbed your hand. “c’mon.”

you allowed him to dance with you to the sound of little richard scatting. you actually did want to dance so badly, but with elvis. he was the only one who could actually keep up with you and the only person you really wanted to dance intimately with.

your date was a good dancer but he was no elvis.

while the music was still going and you were still dancing, you saw a crowd gather by the entrance of the club and a few regular-looking bodyguards making sure everyone was out of the way. you heard people shout out the one person's name who's been on your mind constantly and shook your head in laughter.

b.b. king made his way down to the mess of the dance floor and maneuvered his way through to get to elvis, finally freeing his from the mass of people and into a corner table.

elvis hadn’t seen you yet but you know terese saw him and made her way towards you and your date. “there he is, y/n.”

you rolled your eyes. “so? terese, i have a date tonight.”

“uh, huh. and you and elvis have some things to talk about, no?” now you wondered if telling terese about how you kissed elvis was a good idea. she usually just heard things and ran with them. you wouldn’t even be surprised if she told half the town by now.

you shot an apologetic smile towards your date and grabbed terese’s hand and led her to an empty table. “listen, you can’t say that stuff when i’m around a date! it’s so disrespectful.”

“so, it’s not like you even like him. you started eyeing elvis all the way up when he walked in.”

“that’s not even true, terese, you know that.”

“shoot, might as well be.” she saw you roll your eyes and giggled. “girl, at least talk to him. it’s not really far he left you hanging like that.”

“we ended on a mutual note, he didn’t leave me high and dry.”

“but i know you saw him on the tv. just admit you’re a little mad he left and didn’t bother calling.”

terese did have a point, even if she formulated it all by herself. elvis could’ve called or sent a letter in his between time. you just figured he would when he got the chance.

“ok, i’ll talk to him later.” you sighed standing up. you looked in the direction of elvis’ table and already saw him standing as well, making direct eye contact with you. “or now.”

he smiled a little when he looked at you, quickly trying to find his way through the heavy mass of people dancing to the singer on stage, a new kid sister rosetta thornton found. terese instantly snapped her eyes on him and left you to be swept off your feet again.

when he finally reached you, you didn't look up at him, you stared straight into his chest. "my eyes are up here, little lady."

you set your eyes up to meet his, “hello. nice to see you again.” you bit your lip shyly as if you hadn’t known elvis practically your entire life.

“hello to you too. how have you been, it’s been a while since we’ve talked."

"it has. i've been good, going to work and minding my own. how about you?"

he smirks a little at your response, thinking you were trying to take a jab at him even though you really didn't mean to. "you know, doin' a little singin' here, goin' on a few television shows. nothin' real special."

"hm, that's good for you. i'm glad you're happily doin' what you love." you nodded as the vibe of the music started to shift into something more slow. you saw couples all around attach themselves to each other and sway their bodies to the music.

you also saw your supposed date grab the hand of another girl and lead her to the dance floor. i mean, you can’t blame him. even if though he was a really nice boy, you and him probably weren’t going anywhere after tonight so you’re kind of glad he took matters into his own hands.

“well,” elvis somehow got closer to you and you hadn’t even notice. “seems like your date ditched ya.”

“that’s hardly what i’d call it.” you retorted.

elvis let out a sexy, breathy chuckle, “yeah, alright, love. however, i’m just itchin’ to get on the dance floor, care to going me?” he holds out a soft hand and you look at it. this could be dangerous.

but do you really care? no.

and that’s how you found yourself in elvis’ warm embrace, swaying back and forth to the very soft music floating through the air of the club. both of you said nothing, just basked in the moment because you knew it was going to be gone in a flash.

you wouldn’t know the next time you’d see elvis and he doesn’t know the next time he was going to be able to break away from his schedule to even think about calling you up. elvis tried not to think about it so much and rather just think about how he will be able to have you living in the same house with him, sleeping under the same sheets, and having his kids even.

but sadly, just as the music and the thoughts started - it all ended and you pulled away all too quickly.

“that was nice.” you muttered, looking around at the people kissing their partners and wondered if anyone had seen you and elvis. you doubted it since everyone was so into their partners but couldn’t help but wonder.

“it was, thank you for giving me that dance, doll.” he leaned into to you give you a kiss on your forehead before he glanced at the clock flashing 11:48 on it. elvis internally sighed, “and as much as i really hate to do this, i’ve got to go.”

you nodded your head, you couldn’t even look up at him, “that’s fine, you’re busy and you need good sleep. it’s alright.” you turned around to go and look for terese but elvis stopped you.

“but, i promise to call you, i’m serious.”

“elvis, i’m not going to be mad if you can’t call. i understand how busy you get and you can forget about some things. it’s alright.”

“no, i’m making a promise. a promise i want you to hold me to it.” he looked directly into your eyes and held your waist in a gentle but firm. for some reason, his blue eyes compelled you to agree. so you nodded your head and he planted a sweet kiss to your lips and vanished.

he was going to be the death of you, you were sure of it.

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[mamasturn]

dirty dancing pt. 9

pairing austin!elvis x black!fem!oc (cynthia). warning: 18+ steam, suggestive themes. content: cynthia and elvis get married. tags: @neeville @dulcewrites @crash-and-cure @cvpidspearl @blackwriter48 @wonderprince @venus2eros @adoreyouusugar @sunshinetoday1 @cosmic-parker @kaitaesupremacy @librarydame @louderfortheback @thetaoofzoe

note: well…long time, no see

“Marry me, baby.”

Cynthia’s hands released the utensils they held. A loud clatter ricocheted off the decorated walls of the dining room. The curls upon her head curtained her eyes, but they were blown wide in shock. Slowly, she tuned to the left. Her eyes found his baby blues, which were filled with hope as he descended onto one knee.

In his hand was a black velvet box. He pulled the cap back to reveal the most piece of jewelry she’d ever seen. And, it was authentically her. She’d expressed to him that as she’d gotten older, she found an indescribable beauty in the color green. Cynthia was well-aware that he was attentive; she just never knew he was so attentive that he’d propose to her with an emerald ring.

It was beautiful, goodness, was it beautiful. The emerald diamond was at least three karats, and it was the star of the show. Its setting was gold with vines entagling the band. He pulled it out of the box and brought it closer to her.

“I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else but you, Cyn. You came in my life and changed my desires. I’d be a fool to let you slip through my fingertips. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine, as long as you’ll have me.”

A tearful laugh fell from Cythia’s lips. “Where will we go?” The four words held so much weight, and he knew why. No one in the south would approve of the union of a white man and a Black woman--it was unheard of. But, Elvis knew that already, and he was determined to get what he wanted. There was one state that would grant their wishes--California. California had legalized interracial marriage in 1948, and if she said yes, he already had the first flight there arranged. He just needed a yes.

He stood to his feet and placed the box on the table. Cynthia looked up at him, her brown eyes teary and filled with a million unreadable emotions. “California. They’ll accept us out there. They don’t believe in the silliness them people in the south believe. We can get married, baby. All you gotta do is say yes, and we’ll go. It’ll be me an’ you forever. Baby…”

Cynthia stared at the ring and it stared back at her. What would she tell her parents? They were already suspicious of her relationship with Elvis and feared for her safety daily. Their Black daughter was in a committed relationship with the most famous singer in the world. That was dangerous enough. How much further was she willing to go?

She wanted to be his wife, she truly did. But she was scared. What would happen when people found out? Would they try to hurt them? A part of her challenged her concerns because her relationship was nobody else’s concern, and who was society to tell them who to love? Yes, they were of different races, but it was no reason to repel a love that was so strong and profound. They weren’t hurting anyone.

Her lips twisted as she nodded. “Let’s get married.”

“You look beautiful, darlin’.” Cynthia’s eyes dropped toward her dress. It was a simple, white slip dress that’d been hiding in her closet. It was form fitting and stopped just below her knees. Accompanied by silver pointed heels, she was the most stunning bride. She rushed her makeup in the courtroom bathroom and took the rollers out of her hair, which produced the most voluminous curls. The new layered haircut fit her wonderfully.

“Thank you. You look handsome as always.” He wore a simple black suit, nothing too crazy. He was flamboyant any other day, but chose to have the more simplistically beautiful wedding of his dreams.

“We are gathered here today…”

Their eyes met and giddy smiles spread across their faces. A dream had become a reality. All the worries and fears were washed away when she heard, “you may now kiss the bride.” Cynthia welcomed the passionate kiss and scattered applause from the judge an the officiant. It wasn’t the most ideal wedding, but it was perfect for them, and that’s what mattered. “Mr. and Mrs. Presley, congratulations.”

“Mrs. Presley…I love the sound of that.” They’d found a hotel to stay in for the evening before flying back to Graceland the following morning. The hotel service was luxurious, as they wanted the best for Elvis Presley and his wife. They stayed in the presidential suite on the top floor, which was decked out to the nine.

Large windows that oversaw the city, flowers and plants that reminded her of Graceland, chandeliers above them, and a King sized bed with an angel-white comforter, which she laid on comfortably.

Cynthia turned her head to meet his eyes and smiled gently. She loved it too. Cynthia Irene Presley. Music to her ears. Elvis stood at the end of the bed admiring her beauty. She was freshly showered and dressed in her white nightgown with lace trimming. Her makeup had been removed and her hair was tied with a satin scarf. God, she looked so beautiful to him.

Her brown eyes were blown wide with love and adoration as they followed his movements toward her. She sat up on her elbows and spread her legs just slightly to make room for his body.

Elvis crawled over her, his breath fanning her lips gently. Cynthia shuddered. His pink lips captured hers and she welcomed the feeling.

She loved intimate moments with Elvis, and she could only imagine how much better their interactions would get since they were married. It would mean they’d finally go all the way.

Cynthia and Elvis had dabbled in other forms of sexual intimacy, but had never crossed the line of penetration, as Cynthia requested. She was grateful for her husband’s patience with her, and was more than ready to give herself to him fully.

“Elvis,” she moaned softly as his lips traveled down her body. What a sight to see, it was. Him working his way down her quivering body with darkening eyes and swollen lips. Her, jerking at every touch he gave her and calling him name so gently.

“Yeah, baby…” His large hands cupped her hips as his thumbs traced the waistband of her panties. Slowly, he slid them down her legs. Cynthia kicked them to the side.

“Come here.” She pulled him upwards and kissed him again. Her lips moved toward his ear, which she nibbled on softly. Elvis moaned softly. “Make love to me, Mr. Presley.”

He burned with desire. Elvis hummed softly and instructed her to lay back. His hand slid up her abdomen, leaving goosebumps in the wake. He reached behind her back, looking to unclip her bra. She lifted up to help remove the article of clothing.

Soft pants and breaths of anticipation passed through her lips as Elvis’ warm lips traveled down the valley or her chest, around her clothed hips, and between her thighs, where he teasingly and strategically kissed around the place she wanted him the most.

He lifted his eyes, finding Cynthia with closed eyes and a heaving chest. Her lip was caught between her teeth. She looked down at him when she felt him stop.

She tensed suddenly. Elvis rubbed her thighs gently as a way of reassurance. He wouldn’t push her, though. If she needed time to prepare, he’d give her all the time in the world.

“Relax, baby, relax…”

Cynthia nodded slowly. She didn’t want it to be weird, but she was indeed nervous. But, it was Elvis, she reminded herself. She had no reason to be. All of her worries went away when she felt his lips on her. A gasp fell from her lips, “Elvis…”

“You okay?”

Cynthia nodded tiredly against his chest. “I’m okay.” She’d fantasized what her first time would be like, and Elvis exceeded her expectations. She felt so loved, adored, and honored. He paid close attention to her body and made sure her pleasure was the priority, and for that, she couldn’t have been more thankful.

“Mrs. Presley…” Elvis said for what seemed to be the millionth time. It didn’t bother her, though; she enjoyed hearing it. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you more, Mr. Presley.”

[hearts4court]

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[ranaissingle]

In My Mind

Masterlist Summary: Reader exists in the same circle as Austin and has been head over heels in love with him for years but she never speaks up over the course of their friendship until a new years party. Rating: T Word Count: 2.1 k ( I swear this was meant to be a short whip I have no idea what happened)

Warnings: Unrequited love lol (can you tell I'm feeling angsty?) A/N: Hey girlies, it's been a hot minute haha. School kinda got in the way and then I had to learn (for the zillionth time) that men ain't shit (besides our lord and savior Austin Butler of course). I quite literally have no inspiration so please do send me some requests. I'm thinking of doing another angst fic about Hanahaki disease... How do we feel?

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When Austin told you he had started dating Vanessa Hudgens you felt like you wanted to die. Yes. Die. The world seemed to close in on you as he continued explaining how they had met and how he had asked her out. Each word was another knife in your throat and every admission of his love for her tore your heart into smaller and smaller pieces.

But you sat there and listened. You listened as he detailed their first kiss, their first date, his confession, and hers to him. It took each ounce of self-control to not get up and scream. Scream at him for not knowing how you felt and scream for the heart that had broken.

But you kept your mouth shut. You helped Austin plan all the valentines day dates, the birthday trips, and each anniversary date. Every single thing he had done for her and every girl he had been with since had been painstakingly vetted by you. You were happy to help him, but the fact that all your preparations were for another girl was a hard pill to swallow.

Everything came to a head when he started dating Kaia Gerber. She was beautiful. in every way imaginable she was conventionally attractive. Her skinny legs, straight waist, and small hips made you want to collapse in on yourself. She was perfect in every way. She was everything you were not. Tall, skinny, and beautiful.

Austin was smitten. He had developed a habit of dating skinny models and he had yet to break it. You were anything but surprised when she caught his eye when he asked you if you had her number, when he took her out for the first date, and then eventually when they started dating. It was routine for you now.

He would meet a girl, become infatuated, date her, dump her, then move on to the next one.

But at least you stayed constant. You had been constant for well over a decade at this point. That was more than any of the other girls could say. So you were content, until the New Year's of 2022. It was December 31st, 2022 and Austin had just broken up with his latest fling and had elected to spend New Year's as a free agent. You had never really had a date on new years because your previous relationships always ended before the fateful day or started after. You had grown accustomed to accompanying the same leather chair in the corner of your living room while you watched your friends with their respective partners mingle about your house. You sipped champagne as you watched couples drunkenly sway together as the countdown began to draw dangerously close to midnight.

1 hour to midnight

You spotted Austin out of the corner of your eye and you felt the iciness in your heart melt when he smiled at the people he spoke to. He was in the middle of a group of 4 other people yet still looked ethereal. His hair shone under the kitchen light and the crinkles around his eyes made you want to run your fingers over them.

You watched him. You watched how his lips moved. You traced his figure with your eyes until you reached his hands. His fingers picked at the cuticles of his nails. It was his nervous habit. He always resorted to picking at his cuticles whenever he was around people he didn't know well. It had led to many last-minute manicures before photoshoots to help deal with the redness it left.

30 minutes to midnight

You slowly pushed yourself off the comfortable chaise and made your way over to him. Maybe if you were with him he would feel so nervous, and it could save you from a last-minute call to the nail salon where you had to beg for an opening. You slid in next to him and smiled at the people around him. They barely looked away from Austin to greet you, but you were fine with that. Austin was the star, not you. You slipped your hands in his hand and tugged it behind your back to keep it out of view from those around you.

Austin thrived off of physical touch. He needed it like the air he breathed. Whenever he was feeling nervous or overwhelmed being enveloped in a hug from you or even just having your hand in his was enough to calm the nerves and allow him to breathe. Austin looked down to where you were pressed into his side.

You knew him so well that even from across the room you knew he needed grounding. His chest swelled with pride for a reason he couldn't quite pinpoint. His conversation with those around him continued without a hitch and when the countdown started to broadcast on the TV, they all made their way to their respective partners leaving you and Austin alone at the kitchen island.

15 minutes to midnight

You kept Austin's hand clasped in yours as the countdown numbers descended. Neither of you planned on moving or letting go. The warmth of his hand reached places all over your body and practically heated you up from the inside.

7 minutes to midnight

Austin leaned his head down to whisper into your ear, "If I didn't know you better I'd say that you end up single on New Year's on purpose." You heard the smile in his voice.

"Do you?"

His brown furrowed together, "Do I what?"

You matched him with a grin of your own.

"Know me better." The half tilt of your head made his stomach churn.

His laugh was smooth and boisterous. He brought his other arm around your shoulder to bring you closer to his side. Your heart slowed as you relaxed into him and abandoned your unnecessarily alcoholic drink on the kitchen counter.

5 minutes to midnight

"Hey." Austin's voice cut into the still air of the room. His eyes were trained on the TV and you looked up at his jaw as you waited for him to finish his sentence.

"Do you… do you wish you had a date? For New Year that is." The question caught you off guard and you twitched as you pressed into his side.

"uhm, I-I. I gues-" You stuttered when you couldn't seem to form a cohesive response. Your heart started to accelerate again and your breaths came out in short pants.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself once more to better be able to form a cohesive sentence.

"Well, I guess no one wants to be alone on New years. But that is just how it always seems to happen." You paused a sudden feeling of bravery came over you. The most likely culprit of such a feeling being the alcohol.

"And the person I would like to be with is almost always in a relationship during the New Year." You focused your gaze on the suddenly very interesting kitchen tiles. You had previously told Austin about someone that you had a crush on for years. You had tried to keep it yourself but Austin tended to pry when it came to matters of love but as much as he tried to wrangle the information out of you about who it was, you had kept tight-lipped and unwavering in your resistance to respond.

"Oh?" His eyebrow quirked up as he looked away. It seems he had also taken a sudden interest in the wall decor you had across the room.

"Is this the same guy you've told me about before?" His voice was deep and his throat bobbed as he spoke.

"Yes, it is actually. The very same."

"Haven't you been into this guy for years Y/N?"

"Yes, I have."

"And you are still into him? Why? He is the stupidest man in the world if he hasn't noticed by now." His chuckle was low but you could tell he didn't actually find it remotely funny.

You looked up at him and wished that he would understand from your eyes that you were talking about him, that you were in love with him.

But you had been in love with him for nigh over 10 years and the dolt had yet to come to any significant realization regarding your feelings so there was no use hoping for something like that now.

"Well, I would stop loving him if I could, but as soon as I feel like I can get over him, he does something that has been crawling back." You shrugged lightly and took another sip of your drink before placing it back on the counter.

3 minutes to midnight

"And it doesn't help that he is my best friend." You were skirting around the dangerous territory with that statement. You knew you were. But you were so tired that all the previous reservations and rules you had so painstakingly followed, disappeared.

Austin's eyes widened in confusion.

"Best friend? You have another best friend?" Austin was too slow for his own good.

You shrugged before replying, "Nope, I only have one best friend."

He let out an exasperated sigh

"So I'm not your best friend?!" Your eye twitched.

"No Austin. You are my only best friend."

"So who are you in love with?" Your fingers twitched. You were going to strangle him.

"I am in love with my one and only best friend."

Silence

Austin tensed next to you and you awaited the sting of his rejection that you had spent the better part of the last 10 years preparing for.

2 minutes to midnight

The silences echoed in the room despite the growing cheers of those around you. The timer was steadily counting down the seconds and you wanted to vomit.

The bile rose in your throat when the counter reached 30 seconds. Awaiting his rejection was arguably worse than the rejection itself.

10

9

8

You pushed away from him. His previously comforting warmth had twisted something in your gut and now you wanted to vomit.

6

5

His hand traced your back as you slid away before it fell back to his side. He stuttered out a "W-wait."

But you didn't want to

3 Austin yanked you back until your face was back in his chest and his arm was around your waist. He moved his head into your neck and pushed his nose into your hair before taking a deep breath.

2 Your breath caught when he pulled your head away from him to look into your eyes. 1 He kissed you. He kissed so hard you could have sworn you had fireworks behind your eyes. His hands were everywhere. Crossing your neck, cupping your hips, and splaying across your back. He kissed you until neither of you could breathe anymore. You wrenched away from each other and gulped down large breaths of fresh air.

His hand shakily pressed against your cheek and you looked up to meet his eyes. You didn't want this to be something that only happened because it was the heat of the moment. You wanted it to mean something to him. You wanted him to love you the same way you had for years. You didn't want this to be mean nothin-

"I love you." You had the timbre of his voice memorized. You knew it was Austin speaking but you still looked around you dreading the possibility of him not speaking to you.

But your face was still cupped in between his hands and his eyes were on you.

your eyes were wide as you looked at him You felt stinging and then a prick of tears in your eyes. They fell slowly down your cheeks one by one and Austin kissed each of them away.

All at once you need him on you all over again. You had gone years without so much as a kiss on the cheek from him and you would be damned if you continued in that fashion.

So you pulled his lips hard against you and kissed him until your lips were numb and swollen, and even then you didn't want him off of you.

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well, this was probably shitty so forgive me. It has been a while since I posted so figured I needed to back in the groove of things haha. I think I might do a professor x university student Austin fic next so watch out for that lol.

[tpresley]

Nonono you don’t understand.. I NEED HIM. BAD.