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#luke bracey x reader
floralcyanide · 2 years
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Kinktober
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>> hiii everyone! I decided to try out kinktober since I've never done it! basically, it's little blurbs based on daily prompts. you just choose a day and a character/person for me to write about. (x reader unless you request otherwise) I’ll likely write ahead of time since some days it will be impossible for me to write. but if I need some panic room, I’ll let everyone know! prompts can be for anyone from the Elvis fandom or even the Scream fandom. (I’ll specify what characters I write for in the tags)
prompt list below the cut!
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day one. voyeurism with: Sub!Austin Butler (here)
day two. roleplay with: Austin Butler (here)
day three. mommy kink with: Austin!Elvis (here)
day four. orgasm control with: Elvis Presley (here)
day five. praise kink with: Steve Binder (here)
day six. degradation with: Elvis Presley/ Austin!Elvis (here)
day seven. bondage with: Elvis Presley (here)
day eight. shower sex with: Jerry Schilling (here)
day nine. breeding kink with: Austin Butler (here)
day ten. mutual masturbation with: Steve Binder (here)
day eleven. phone sex with: Elvis Presley (here)
day twelve. public play with: Elvis Presley/ Austin!Elvis (here)
day thirteen. knife kink or gun kink with: Austin!Elvis (here)
day fourteen. daddy kink with: Jerry Schilling
day fifteen. hate sex with: Billy Loomis
day sixteen. thigh riding with: Austin Butler
day seventeen. sex tape with: Elvis Presley
day eighteen. squirting with: Austin Butler
day nineteen. threesome with: Billy Loomis and Stu Macher
day twenty. cockwarming with: Austin Butler
day twenty-one. corruption kink with: Elvis Presley
day twenty-two. sex toys with: Sub!Austin Butler
day twenty-three. spanking with: Jerry Schilling
day twenty-four. edging with: Elvis Presley
day twenty-five. housewife kink with: Elvis Presley
day twenty-six. face sitting with: Steve Binder
day twenty-seven. dom/sub with: Dom!Olivia/Sub!Austin/ Reader
day twenty-eight. drunk sex with: Steve Binder
day twenty-nine. throat fucking with: Austin Butler
day thirty. dumbification with: Austin!Elvis
day thirty-one. blood play with: vampire!Austin!Elvis
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bcofl0ve · 1 year
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🍓 ((i miss ur pa reader stuff))
(send me 1k celly prompts through the end of day, i’ll be playing catch up over the weekend and into next week!)
and i miss writing it so you're getting quite the spiel here. featuring guest star luke bracey. last december me and two of my twitter friends created this whole like. austin x priscila actress reader x luke bracey expanded universe. and we have gotten very very carried away LOL we developed it to the extent that pa reader has a baby that is luke's bc they sleep together again during press but she doesn't know she's preg until she's gotten back together with austin. messy messy. but i'll stick to the early days here. also this is a little nsfw so minors shoo.
on luke ‘bracey’ bracey and the prologue
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- the first seed is planted by luke wandering into the wrong bathroom at one of the underground cast parties in like. late september just as filming is picking back up.
- luke wandering into the wrong bathroom at a time during which austin has you up on the counter jackhammering you into next week.
- he hates that he doesn't just turn tail and run, especially when austin catches his eye in the mirror.
- but he doesn’t hear austin leaning down to whisper into your ear something to the effect of "you want me to tell him to fuck off or should we give him a show?", nor does he hear your response of "let's give him a show."
- a very gruff "sit down bracey" and he is sat on on the couch that was probably thrown into the bathroom for this exact reason, hand slipping below the waistline of his slacks.
- when you and austin are done he squeezes your ass and says you should go help the peanut gallery out.
- you almost laugh at how big luke’s eyes get when you’re getting on your knees in front of him.
- a week later you and austin of you toss around the idea of calling luke up and seeing if he'd want to revisit um- that. he does.
- it starts as just a little fun, sleeping together, messing around- the works.
- except two weeks into the fun he spends the night and something about waking up between him and austin makes your heart thud in your chest.
- luke makes the three of you breakfast.
- the fact that he spent the night and is making breakfast in the kitchen with his shirt off and that it all feels domestic should be weird- or at least laughable. it's not.
- you think you'd rather crawl over broken glass than bring that up to austin but then you see the same realization flashing across his eyes. and you see it in luke's too when he’s bringing the food to the table.
- oh. you think. oh.
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headfullofpresley · 2 years
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Back of the Bus
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Pairing: Jerry Schilling (Luke!Jerry) x reader
Word count: 1452
Warning(s): smut smut smut, getting caught, Cilla is in this (not a warning imo, but for some of y’all it might be?? lol).
Requested: yesss, by my cutie @soloangel​ <3
hi lovebug! i was wondering, i've been sorta obsessing over luke!jerry lately. could there be some sort of smut between reader and him soon?
Author’s note: short but sweeeet (and a lil funny). enjoy my angels <3
masterlist
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‘‘Jerry, we can’t do this here!’’ You squealed with a giggle as you tried to push your boyfriend off of you with all your might, but the man that was hovering above you and hiding his face in your neck was barely budging. It was rare for you to reject his kisses and big hands roaming every part of your body he could reach, but you couldn’t believe the position he managed to get you into today. Laying in the back of the tour bus, on Elvis Presley’s goddamned bed. He was going to kill the both of you if he’d find out, that was for sure.
‘‘He’s rehearsing for the special,’’ Jerry laughed softly as he pulled back from your neck, grabbing your wrists to stop you from fighting him off, putting them above your head on the bed. Trapped underneath him now, you blew some hair out of your face and rolled your eyes though you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips. There was something exciting about making love to your man in a bed that didn’t belong to you, you wouldn’t lie. You were still a little nervous about Elvis or someone else suddenly bursting through the doors of the bus, catching you two in the act. Jerry noticed and pressed the bulge he was sporting against you, making you whimper softly. Truth was, you could never resist him─especially not in that tight fitted v-neck he was wearing, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off the veins in his forearms. Always been one of your weaknesses and he knew it better than anyone.
‘‘Alright, fuck it,’’ you huffed, making your boyfriend lean down to you immediately to capture your lips in a heated kiss. He rolled his hips against you once more and you wrapped your legs around his waist in response, exploring his mouth like you had done so many times before. When you whined in his mouth and wiggled your hands in his grip, he let go of you and your hands were in his hair immediately, pushing him down on the bed. Clothes were flying through the small room as you two didn’t waste a second─both because you were so needy for each other, and because you weren’t exactly in the ideal position to be taking your time. You grabbed onto some decorative pillows as you stretched your arms above your head, moaning lewdly when Jerry buried his face in between your legs, tongue slipping through your folds to flick at your clit teasingly. He knew he didn’t have the time to tease, but he couldn’t resist. He loved when you’d get all needy and whine for him─it didn’t take you long to get you in that state, as his tongue abandoned your clit to plant tiny kisses on your lips and in your groin, instead of where you needed him most.
‘‘Goddamnit, Jer, p-please,’’ you whined as you threw one of the small pillows at his head, messing up his hair. The both of you couldn’t help but laugh and he wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping your legs spread as he went in without warning, making you gasp as you let your head fall back on the bed. You shouldn’t be complaining, after all, you asked for it. But you wanted more and more─you needed him. You tried to squeeze your thighs around his head, but his hands that were still keeping your legs spread were preventing you from doing so and all you could do in your current position was arch your back and tug at your own hair, shamelessy moaning his name.
You looked down at him when he lifted his head, breathing heavily, lips and tip of his nose glistening with your juices. You laughed softly, pulling him back up. ‘‘We don’t have time, you idiot,’’ you giggled and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, pecking your lips as he aligned himself at your entrance. ‘‘You liked it, though,’’ he grinned knowingly at you and you rolled your eyes, slipping one arm around his shoulders, your other gripping onto his arm as he softly pushed himself inside of you. The both of you gasped, his forehead pressed against yours as he squeezed his eyes shut. While you’ve been in this position so many times before, you always needed a little bit to get used to the feeling of having him buried inside of you. Once you wrapped your legs back around his waist and hooked your ankles, pushing the back of your feet against his lower back, he took the hint and started thrusting into you. Didn’t take you two long to start going at it like wild rabbits, acting as if you hadn’t had sex last freaking night. You both couldn’t help it─too in love and too horny all of the damn time. Must be the California air.
‘‘Oh, fuck! Jerry!’’ You moaned loudly, tugging at his hair as he hit your spot with every thrust, making your eyes roll in the back of your head. His lips were sloppily kissing along your jawline and down to your neck, his hand squeezing your left breast as he was keeping himself up with his other arm so he wouldn’t crush you under his weight. Your nails dug softly into his arm and shoulder as you both orgasmed, not even trying to keep the noises down even though anyone could be wandering by the bus. Jerry was breathing heavily as he hid his face in your neck and you wrapped both of your arms around his shoulders, hugging him to you tightly. When you looked over your shoulder and saw Elvis and Priscilla standing by the door with horror in their eyes, you widened your eyes. The back room where the bed was located didn’t have a door and you and Jerry both forgot to close the curtain that closed off the spaces from each other.
‘‘Goddamnit, Jerry! You’re changing my sheets!’’ Elvis yelled as you hid your face in Jerry’s neck, your face heating up in embarrassment when you heard Priscilla giggle. The couple disappeared out of the bus again with a loud slam of the door after Jerry put his thumb up. He pulled out of you and fell back on the bed, bursting out in laughter. You sat up as you looked at him with wide eyes, your hand over your mouth. ‘‘He’s never gonna let us live this down, is he?’’
‘‘Nope,’’ Jerry laughed, eyes squeezed shut as a tear rolled down his cheek, his shoulders shaking. You couldn’t but help laugh along, but hit his shoulder nonetheless. He pulled you into his side and kissed your forehead, still laughing. ‘‘I hate you,’’ you whined, though you didn’t mean a single word of it. You loved this man more than life itself. He grinned as he looked down at you, gently and playfully grabbing your face as he squished your lips together, pecking them. ‘‘I love you more,’’
The both of you got startled out of your little moment of afterglow as Elvis slammed his fist against the side of the bus by the room, laughing loudly as Priscilla tried to get him away from the vehicle. You chuckled and got up from the bed, gathering your clothes together, throwing Jerry his underwear. The both of you got dressed, wanted to do what Elvis said and change his sheets─but the both of you had no idea if the bus even had clean sheets, since you and Jerry only came to hang out here during the day. You must’ve spend a good ten minutes discussing who was going outside to ask him and after you lost two rounds of rock, paper and scissors, the task unfortunately landed on you.
You sighed deeply and fixed your hair a little bit, trying to look at least somewhat presentable before you opened the door and stuck your head out, squinting your eyes in the sun a little bit. As Elvis saw you, he put his cigar in his mouth and grabbed Priscilla, putting her in a very questionable position that had heat flush back on your cheeks again as you widened your eyes. The two were laughing and Jerry came up behind you, throwing one of the decorative pillows from the bed at Elvis’ head. As Elvis picked it up and threw it right back, you ducked and pushed Jerry out of the bus─the men were chasing each other like absolute idiots now and Priscilla laughed, stepping inside the bus with you.
‘‘I’ll help you,’’ she chuckled, hooking her arm through yours as she pulled you toward the back of the bus.
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elvisabutler · 1 year
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duality
summary: you are not a naturally submissive person. but for him? on your knees under a desk feels like perfection. rating: m pairing: jerry schilling x gn reader word count: 1335. i cannot write a damn blurb to save my life. warning: oral ( m receiving ). elvis being fucking elvis. dom/sub. cockwarming. probably an excessive use of the nickname kitten. public sex. getting caught during a sexual act ( kind of ). author's note: welcome to day 27 of kinktober: dom/sub with jerry schilling. consider this sort of a sequel to day 5 with the jerry praise kink. this is really light/gentle dom/sub but the idea struck me so here we are. hope y'all enjoy tbh.
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Fixing things is exhausting work for a normal celebrity, you know this just from dealing with a few Hollywood actors and actresses before you had the pleasure and perhaps the misfortune of crossing paths with Elvis and his Memphis Mafia. It's exhausting but it's also something that requires a certain- dominance that most people lack but you for some strange reason have in spades. It's the charming sort of dominance, the one where you don't realize that the other person is calling the shots. It's dangerous in the wrong hands but you like to think you wield it rather well.
Even if you don't, Elvis hasn't fired you personally yet and he hasn't told your boss come boyfriend to fire you either, so you must be doing something right with your skills. It should embarrass you- you think- that Jerry is truly your main defense against Elvis's mildly uncertain whims but you've found that it doesn't. In fact, it kind of delights you to a certain degree, makes you feel as if Jerry can help you with the millions of juggling acts you appear to have to perform. You know it's the same for him, perhaps even worse but still, having him near you alleviates the stress.
Having him do what he's doing to you right now definitely alleviates even more stress. How he has you on your knees head in his lap nuzzling at his cock underneath a desk. You had come to him early in the day, your body jittery in a way he's become rather familiar with over the past few months. All it took for you to sag into his arms was a simple question, asked as he pulled you close.
"You alright, kitten?"
You had frowned, shaking your head as you answered, the tension leaving your body as you tried to relax in his grip. "No."
His hold tightened on you as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "Let's see if I can't fix that for you."
Jerry has work that he can't put off but he also knows that taking care of you has become a priority to him in a way that actually outranks his actual job with Elvis from time to time. Still, this time he can't just shirk his duties but he knows you don't mind being on your knees for him, that you've looked at him with wide eyes and a look of pure contentment when you've been on your knees in front of him, his hand stroking your hair lightly. This is no exception, he thinks- it's just a taste of what he wants to do to you- what he feels will help you settle into a state that's more comfortable for you. A state that makes you feel better than you do in that moment.
His desk hides you from prying eyes and he puts his thumb on your lower lip, forcing you to open your mouth lightly. Your tongue licks at it before sucking on it and earning a small smile from Jerry as he unbuckles his pants, pulling out his cock for you.
"Remember, you have to listen and pay attention to what I'm saying, Kitten. If you don't listen I'll tuck myself back in my pants and you don't want that, do you?" His tone is slow and measured, making sure you're taking in each one of his words as you nod. "When I touch your hair later on, I want you to put suck my cock. But for right now? I just want it to be in your mouth. Can you do that? Can you be a good kitten and listen?"
"I can." You reply a little too quickly, your eyes never leaving his cock, worrying your lower lip with your teeth.
"Okay then. Get into position kitten. I'll be right there." He murmurs, smiling down at you.
His cock has hardened in your mouth as its sat there, you mostly resisted the urge to run your tongue across it or move your mouth up and down on it. You can hear rustling from above you and then you hear the door open and Elvis's voice fills the room, causing you to freeze and almost squeak in concern. It's then that you feel Jerry's hand in your hair and you almost don't listen because he cannot honestly be telling you that he wants you to start while Elvis is standing right there talking to him and likely would be able to tell if you started just from the amount of times you've had to clean up his own messes involving this very situation. You remember what Jerry had asked you though, what your boyfriend had asked, can you be a good kitten? You could, and aftering taking a moment to just inhale the unique scent of him you find yourself starting to suck on his cock. Your tongue flicks at the tip at first, knowing it drives him wild any time you do and underneath your hands you can feel his thighs flexing, a surefire sign that you're on the right track.
Jerry doesn't necessarily use a lot of words when listening to Elvis but as you pay attention for any minute changes in the conversation you notice that your boyfriend has become practically nonverbal only answering in hms and uh-huhs. You have to tamp down on the urge to laugh.
"Jerry are you even listenin'?" Elvis asks his tone sounding mildly aggravated but you could be mistaken.
"I am, EP, but I am tired and I just wanna get through this work. I'll do what- We'll talk about it tomorrow, yeah?" Jerry answers back, inhaling as your hand moved to cup his balls. You choke a little as he can't stop himself from bucking up just a hair. "Shit."
There's a long pause before Elvis just laughs, his chuckle filling the room and you know very well you've been caught and likely won't hear the end of it for another week. He has the decency not to point it out as he leaves.
"Yeah, tomorrow. When you're not so- preoccupied. Tell Y/N I said hello, haven't seen 'em 'round for a few hours."
The second the door is closed, Jerry's leaning back and pulling at your hair, using it to direct you up and down on his cock. You had been good, you were doing good but after feeling your hand on his balls, all he wants to do is have a little more control over the situation and a little more control over when he would be coming. You manage to adjust to the situation, allowing for Jerry to almost fuck your mouth without question. Your tongue slides across his length and you even let your teeth graze it, earning a hiss from him. It doesn't take too long before you feel his grip tightening and taste his release on your tongue. You want to pull off so that you don't choke but Jerry keeps your head in place, forcing you to breathe through your nose as you swallow, sputtering a little when he finally allows you to shift back on your knees.
The buzzing feeling- the overwhelming itch that threatened to decimate you is lessened, replaced in part by a sense of calm. Your head lolls forward a little before Jerry's hand comes up under your chin, allowing you to look at him.
"Better?" He asks, his thumb stroking your jaw. His eyes narrow as if he's prepared to catch you lying if you try.
"Somewhat." A pause where you find your eyes drooping a little. "Are you almost done?"
He smiles, pushing his chair back completely and standing up, holding out his hand for you to take. "Been done for about 30 minutes. Get up, Kitten. We're going home. And- if you're only somewhat better, I think I've got some work to do."
You use his hand to leverage yourself up, placing a kiss on his neck before nuzzling it. "Is that a promise?"
Your only answer is a sly half grin as you two walk out of the room.
( It was. )
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floralcyanide · 1 year
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Soco Amaretto Lime
Jerry Schilling x Reader Smut
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request: congrats on 2k!! could i get 12: “I could make you feel better.” w mister jerry schilling?? i love him sm 🙏🏾 by @dilfelvis
hi its mila!! congratulations on 2k 💕 💕 6. “My tongue still remembers the way you taste.” by @sassy-ahsoka-tano
smut prompt #12: "I could make you feel better."
smut prompt #6: "My tongue still remembers the way you taste."
warnings: gender neutral/ afab!reader, smut, mentions of alcohol, underage alcohol consumption, brief cigarette smoking, inexperience, oral (afab receiving), fingering, oral (m receiving), cum eating, throat fucking, all the fun stuff.
summary: When your new neighbor Elvis Presley becomes your best friend, you meet one of his other friends, Jerry. The two of you share a special night together, only to never see each other again. At least, not for many years. What happens when you finally meet again?
word count: 4317
author’s note: welcome to request 5 of my 2k celebration! I have a soft spot for Jerry so this was super fun to write!! I hope everyone enjoys!! (: also, the timeline in this fic is kinda altered because Jerry would've been 18 in 1960, but for plot purposes, we'll say he was 18 in 1954 instead. also I kinda got carried away with the plot I had in my head so I'm sorry if this is kinda long lmao. also if it doesn't flow smoothly, I wrote half of this on campus earlier, and the rest just now so oop. (I don't feel like proof reading my stuff anymore atp sorry lol)
masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here | 2k celebration prompts here | request a prompt here or in my asks.
"I'm gonna stay eighteen forever, so we can stay like this forever.”
Your neighbor and new best friend, Elvis Presley, was throwing a small get-together at his big house down the road from yours. He’s invited you, insisting that you meet his other friends and family. You oblige, deciding that getting out of the house would be good for you. Besides, you got a nice new outfit you wanted to show off. Maybe you’ll make some new friends.
You’re studying yourself in the mirror, repeatedly fixing your hair to get it just right. You aren’t impressing anyone in particular, but you never know. Dusting yourself off, you head downstairs and bid farewell to your parents as you swing the front door open. You begin your half-mile trek to the Presleys, kicking at rocks in your way every now and then. It’s a mild day temperature-wise, so you aren’t surprised to see Elvis tossing a football back and forth to some of his friends when you finally reach Graceland. Elvis spots you and immediately waves you over to him excitedly.
“Hey! I’m glad you made it,” he yells, tossing the football to one of his buddies before meeting you halfway in the yard, “Let me introduce you to some people.”
You follow Elvis to where his friends are standing and talking amongst each other. They pause when they notice the two of you approach.
“This is cousin Billy,” Elvis gestures to a boy with dark hair, “This is Roger,” he then points to another guy with red hair, but your eyes land on the taller person next to him with sandy hair.
“This is Jerry. Say hi, Jerry,” Elvis slaps a hand onto his shoulder, grinning at you.
“Hi,” Jerry says a bit awkwardly, but you smile at him.
“Everyone, this is Y/N. They live down the road,” Elvis returns to his spot next to you.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N!” Billy says, and Roger nods at you. Jerry remains quiet, looking down at his feet.
“Don’t mind Jerry, he’s a little shy is all,” Elvis jokes, causing Jerry’s face to flush slightly.
“I completely understand. I’m kinda shy too sometimes,” you say, trying to make the sandy-haired boy feel better.
“Now, who wants to play some football?” Elvis grins, motioning for Billy to toss the football back to him.
The five of you play a few football games before Gladys beckons everyone inside to get washed up for lunch. Three of the guys make a beeline to the front door while you hang back with Jerry, who is moving a little slower.
“So,” you say, walking alongside him, “How old are you?”
“I’m eighteen,” he says, glancing over at you, “How about you?”
“Same,” you say, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun, “How do you know Elvis?”
“Believe it or not, we met playing football several years back,” Jerry chuckles, opening up to you a little.
“Really? That’s fun. Do you guys play football a lot?” 
“It’s few and far between now that Elvis is getting attention for his singing, but he tries to make time,” Jerry says, opening the door and letting you walk inside ahead of him.
“That’s good! I’m glad Elvis makes time for the little stuff,” you turn around to look at Jerry and walk with him to the washroom.
The both of you take turns washing up before heading to the dining room, where everyone but Billy is seated.
“Billy! Hurry up!” Elvis calls from the table, where everyone has now sat down.
“Imma comin’!” Billy shouts back from the kitchen.
He comes out with a pitcher of sweet tea and carefully sits it down at the center of the table before taking a seat across from Jerry, who is next to you. Everyone enjoys lunch and casually converses, including you and Jerry. You learn a lot about his everyday life, and he learns about yours. Every now and then, you’ll look up to see Elvis smirking at you knowingly. You just roll your eyes at him and look away.
The afternoon seems to go by quickly after lunch. You and the group of guys gather in the living room, and Elvis plays his vinyl collection. You all take turns dancing with each other.
“Would you care for a dance?” Jerry asks abashedly, scratching the back of his neck while avoiding eye contact.
“I’d love to,” you smile, taking Jerry’s offered hand.
The boys all watch the two of you dance in rhythm to the music. Billy nudges Elvis, who is still nose deep in his collection, searching for the next one to play. Elvis observes Jerry and you carefully, a smile growing on his face at the sight of his friends getting along.
The album ends, and Elvis and his friends all clap at your dancing skills, and you take a bow with your face burning in slight embarrassment. Jerry just stands next to you with a blush taunting his cheeks. You glance at the clock, noticing it is almost time for dinner at your house.
“Well, I best get going,” you sigh, turning to Jerry, “It was nice meeting you!”
“You too,” he says, his gaze lingering on you as you bid farewell to everyone else.
As you leave, you wonder if you’ll see Jerry again.
It’s now nearing ten at night, and you’re still in your clothes, lying on your bedroom floor as you listen to your favorite album. All you’ve been able to think about all evening is Jerry. You don’t know him extremely well, but well enough to have taken a liking to him. You wonder if he’s thinking about you the way you’re thinking about him. Suddenly, your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp noise. You sit up and look around, unsure where the noise came from. It happens again, and you realize it’s coming from your bedroom window. You quickly get up and go to investigate. Resting your hands on your windowsill, you peer out of the glass, and your eyes fall onto someone standing in the yard.
“Jerry?” you wonder to yourself as you open the window.
“Jerry, what are you doing? It’s late,” you scold, looking behind you to ensure your parents aren’t coming.
“I just wanted to see you,” Jerry shrugs.
You sigh, wondering how you two could hang out without getting caught. Then, you remember your treehouse that’s in the backyard. 
“Do you see that treehouse in the back?” you ask quietly.
Jerry steps backward, studying the dimly lit backyard before nodding.
“Meet me there,” you say, fighting a giddy grin.
“Alright,” Jerry says.
You pull away from the window before shutting it, smoothing out any wrinkles on your outfit hurriedly as you look around for your shoes. Before leaving your bedroom, you go to your dresser and fish out a pack of cigarettes you’ve hidden from your parents. You didn’t smoke often, but you thought it’d be fun to do with Jerry if he also smoked.
Shutting your bedroom door quietly, you tiptoe down the hall, down the stairs, and through the living room and kitchen to the back door. You shut the door behind you, sneaking through the dewy grass to the treehouse ladder. You climb up and finally reach the top to see Jerry sitting in the corner, waiting for you.
“Hi,” you say, sitting across from him.
“Hi,” he says back.
You look around the treehouse for a moment before spotting the outline of a lantern you left up there, switching it on. There was enough light for you to see the bottle next to Jerry that he brought with him. You raise an eyebrow.
“Elvis got me a bottle to bring to you,” he says, noticing my curiosity, “But you don’t have to drink it if you don’t wanna.”
You shrug, “I don’t mind it. Do you smoke?”
“Only when I’m drinkin’.” Jerry chuckles.
“Alright,” you grin, handing him the pack of smokes with the lighter.
He offers you the bottle, and you break the seal, taking a swig. Your face twists into disgust as the alcohol burns down your throat, “That’s retched.”
Jerry laughs as he lights up a cigarette, taking a puff before handing it to you and taking the bottle from your hands.
“It’s whiskey, it��s not supposed to taste good,” he jokes.
You shrug, lighting your cigarette and taking a drag, “I don’t drink whiskey, so,” you trail off.
The two of you pass the bottle back and forth, taking puffs of your cigarettes as the bottle begins to empty quickly. You’re both now lying on the treehouse floor, staring up at the stars through the open roof, and you’re giggling over something Jerry had said about Elvis. You’re glad to see Jerry’s shyness slowly slip away the more the two of you drink. You both fall silent, and you start thinking about how you probably won’t see Elvis as much anymore with him becoming more musically successful. This also means you may not see Jerry anymore.
Jerry turns his head away from the sky and looks at you for a moment.
“I can hear you thinking too hard.”
You turn your head to look at him, “I’m just thinking about how I may not get to see Elvis as often since he’s getting famous.”
Jerry hums in response.
“And I may not get to see you as often either.”
This causes Jerry to turn his head back in your direction, his blue eyes scanning your face closely.
“You wanna see me?” he questions, “Usually, people care more about Elvis.”
“Well, I care about him, of course. But I care about you in a different way,” you say, focusing on the stars as if they’ll give you the courage to tell Jerry you like him.
“How so?”
You bite your lip, eyes burning into one particularly bright star, “I kinda like you.”
“Only kinda?” Jerry jokes, trying to lighten your obvious tenseness.
You turn to look at him, rolling your eyes and letting out a scoff, “You know what I mean, Jerry.”
“I do,” he says, “But I’d like to see you prove it.”
“How so?” you say mockingly, repeating his words from moments ago.
“You know what I mean, Y/N.”
“No,” you say, “I really don’t.”
Jerry sits up and offers his hands to pull you up with him. You take them and lift yourself from the wooden floor of the treehouse. You almost don’t want to let go of his hands for a second, but he releases your grasp before you can decide.
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” Jerry asks, and you furrow your eyebrows.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, I’m trying to ask if you’ve ever kissed anyone without blatantly asking. Because I want you to kiss me.”
“Oh,” you say, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, “You could’ve just asked.”
“You know I’m not good with being out there with other people,” Jerry says, his drunken honesty showing.
“True,” you giggle.
You stare into Jerry’s eyes, moving closer to him. 
Both of your knees are pressed against his, your body almost involuntarily moving closer to his because of the intoxicating proximity. The truth is, you’ve kissed a boy before. But not one that you were attracted to like you were with Jerry. You glance down at his lips as you lean into him, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. You close your eyes before letting your lips press to his. And it feels like magic when you do, even if that seems cheesy. Jerry cards his fingers through your hair, pulling you as close as possible. You open your mouth slightly to run your tongue along his bottom lip, and he allows you to slip it inside his mouth. But before you can fully take over the kiss, Jerry dominates your mouth with his tongue. You let him, feeling dizzy with growing lust. You’ve never done anything other than make out in your whole life, so the more intense the kiss gets, the dizzier you feel.
Jerry pulls away for a moment, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.
“Sorry, I don’t want to move too fast if you don’t want-”
You interrupt Jerry by gently kissing along his jaw, nipping at the skin lightly as he shakily inhales. You return to his lips, kissing him deeply. He returns the kiss with equal passion, his fingers curling into your hair and pulling a little. You quietly moan at the motion, allowing Jerry to slip his tongue back into your mouth. As the kiss gets more heated, you climb onto Jerry’s lap, much to his surprise. He removes his hand from your hair and places both hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin when you press your core against his. Jerry pulls away from the kiss again; this time, his eyes are no longer blue from how large his pupils have grown.
“I uh,” he says, unable to look away from your lips and unable to look you in the eye, “I’ve never done anything like this.”
“Me either,” you say, “I can stop if you want me to-”
“No,” Jerry says, stroking your face, “I want to take care of you.”
Jerry slowly guides you off his lap, “Lay down.”
You do as told, and Jerry hovers over you, giving you a kiss before slowly making his way down your neck. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on your skin until he reaches the top of your shirt. He pulls the hem up to reveal your stomach, where he continues to pepper kisses, and you fight the urge to laugh from how it tickles. 
Jerry runs a finger along the waistband of your bottoms, “Is this okay to take off?”
“Yes,” you say, growing slightly nervous.
You’ve never let anyone near you like this before, so you’re a little worried. You’re a little drunk but trust Jerry nonetheless. Besides, sober you wouldn’t allow yourself to be so bold and willing. At least you aren’t alone in not having done anything sexual in your life, so you don’t expect this situation to be perfect. But hopefully, it’ll still be fun. You push your nerves away as Jerry pulls down your bottoms and underwear simultaneously, gently laying them next to your legs. You almost feel the urge to cover up as Jerry has his eyes on your half-naked body. He leans down on his forearms before moving his face downward. You feel his breath against your sensitive skin. Carefully, Jerry licks a stripe up your slit, gathering the small amount of arousal that resulted from the intense make-out session. He circles his tongue experimentally around your clit when he finds it, which makes you let out a shaky moan. It feels too good. Jerry continues the exhilarating movement, going faster as you let out the slightest noise. Your hands fly to his sandy hair when he dips his tongue into you, lapping at the growing wetness. He runs his tongue up and down your slit before gathering up spit and letting it fall onto your bundle of nerves. Jerry then swirls his tongue around it again, nipping at it with his teeth very softly to see how you react. You accidentally let out a loud moan, and your hand covers your mouth quickly. Jerry chuckles before he envelops your clit with his lips, sucking lightly and gauging your reaction with his pupil-blown eyes. You look down at him, your mouth covering your muffled moans. Jerry starts to suck a tad harder, before switching between kitten-licking at the bud and sucking harshly. You try your best not to wiggle around or make any noise, but the way Jerry makes you feel is making it difficult.
Jerry then gathers your slick with a finger, still assaulting your clit as he gently pushes in a finger. When he curls it, you have to bite down on your knuckle to keep quiet. Shortly after, Jerry adds another finger, and then a third as you grow impossibly wetter from the stimulation. He finds the sensitive spot inside of you, rubbing it with his fingers as he licks your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re so close to orgasm, and it’s an intense feeling. Your stomach is in knots, and your body shakes from the newly experienced pleasure. Your thighs clamp around Jerry’s head as the knots come undone, pleasure overcoming you in waves. Your chest heaves as Jerry licks you and his fingers clean. He sits up and watches you twitch from your orgasm, softly running a hand over your thigh.
“That was,” you say shakily, “That was amazing. How did you know to do all of that?”
“I’ve seen some things but have never done it until now,” Jerry says, his face turning red.
He helps you get your bottoms back on after you offer to take care of him. He politely declines, saying it could be saved for next time. 
Except, that would be the last time you saw Jerry. Elvis rose to fame very quickly, and Jerry and cousin Billy joined him on tour, and every tour after that. Years go by, and you never forget your first time with Jerry. You don’t blame him for not seeing you again. He had things to do and take care of. When you’re 21, you finally move out to California for school. You finish school and work odd-ended jobs for a few years until you see that an opening for an internship at NBC is available. On your first day as an intern, you meet producer Steve Binder, who offers you a job as his assistant. This job could open doors for you while you get experience. You accept it right away. 
One day, Steve excitedly tells you about an idea for a comeback special for Elvis Presley. You perk up at this idea, hoping, after all this time, that you’d be able to see your friend again. It’s been nearly 15 years since you last saw Elvis, and so much has happened since then. It’s also been almost 15 years since you last saw Jerry. You and Steve work together to develop ideas for the special, bouncing stuff back and forth daily. 
The day you’ve been waiting for finally arrives when Elvis enters Steve’s office to talk to him. Steve is currently doing something else, so you’re in his office instead, organizing some papers. When Elvis enters the room, you almost don’t hear him.
“Y/N? Is that you?”
Your head snaps up at the familiar voice.
“The one and only,” you say, a huge smile spreading across your face, “How have you been?”
Elvis chuckles, walking over to you, “I’ve been dealing. How about you? I never thought I’d see you at NBC.”
“I’ve been wonderful. I came here for university a long time ago and decided to stay,” you explain, and Elvis nods.
“Jerry will be here in a second if you wanna say hi to him,” Elvis says.
“I’d love to,” you say, suddenly feeling nervous at the thought of seeing Jerry again.
You and Elvis continue the conversation until there’s a knock on the doorframe.
“Steve is on his way.”
You look over to see a much older Jerry with longer hair standing in the doorway. His eyes meet yours for a moment before he recognizes you. But before he can say anything, Steve approaches, and everyone dives into a conversation about the special.
You find yourself alone in the hallway outside of Steve’s office after the guys leave, and Steve shows them around the studio. You’re leaning against the wall, flipping through stapled pages of the plan for the special so far. You’re focused on reading until someone taps your shoulder. Turning around, you’re surprised to see Jerry behind you.
“Hi,” you say, surprised.
“Hi,” he says, looking you up and down not-so-subtly.
“It’s been a while.”
“Yeah,” Jerry looks down, “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s alright, I understand,” you say, “You got very busy very fast.”
“You moved away,” Jerry frowns.
“I did. I moved here for school.”
“Makes sense,” Jerry smiles, “I know you wanted to get into this business.”
You’re surprised he remembers anything you told him about yourself.
“You look good,” you say, eyeing Jerry carefully, taking in how much he’s changed. It was obviously a good change. He is still very much attractive to you.
“So do you,” Jerry says, stepping closer to you, “Are you doing anything right now?”
“Not really, just waiting for Steve’s next appointment in,” you glance down at your watch, “About an hour.”
“Wanna kill some time?” Jerry asks, his eyes not tearing away from you.
“What do you suggest?” you ask, trailing your eyes up his body, knowing what he’s hinting at.
“Follow me, and you’ll find out,” Jerry says, offering a hand for you to take.
For a moment, you hesitate. Did you really want to have sex with Jerry? Not to mention you’re in your workplace- did you want to risk getting caught? But you can't say no when his blue, familiar eyes meet yours. So you throw caution to the wind and take his hand. 
Jerry leads you to a private restroom toward the basement where no one would likely intrude.
“How romantic,” you joke as he opens the restroom door for you to enter.
When Jerry flips the light on and closes the door while locking it, you get down on your knees. You never forgot about him saying he’d let you take care of him the next time, even if that next time was a decade and a half later. So you were ready. Jerry turns around and looks down at you, surprised at your eagerness.
“You said I could take care of you the next time,” you say, running your tongue along your bottom lip with your face level with his zipper, “It’s now the next time.”
“I can’t believe you remembered that,” Jerry says, placing a hand under your chin, his fingers gripping it softly.
“Well, you’re the only man who has ever made me cum while eating me out. It’s the least I can do,” you shrug.
It was true. You’ve been in many serious relationships over the years, but none of them could satisfy you with oral. It was a little tragic knowing that the best you ever had was when you were 18 by an inexperienced guy you had just met. 
“Really?” Jerry exhales, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
“No man has ever made me feel good,” you pout, bringing a finger up to trace the outline of Jerry’s dick in his pants.
“That’s because only I could make you feel better, sweetheart,” Jerry lifts your head with his hand still under your chin, “And I will after you suck me off.”
You look up at him as he unbuttons his pants, pulling them and his underwear down, letting himself spring free. You immediately grab his length, circling your tongue around the tip as you feel him grow harder in your hand. Enveloping Jerry with your lips, you let him slide inside your mouth as far as you could allow him. Jerry’s hands steady your head, his fingers in your hair. With your hand, you pump the rest that wouldn’t fit in your mouth. Jerry’s head hits the restroom door he’s in front of, and a groan bubbles out of his mouth. His tip hits the back of your throat as you bob your head. Your hand and head set a rhythm, both moving back and a little faster with each movement. Jerry has to grip your hair in order not to thrust forward. You let go of his cock for a moment and grab both his hips, pulling them forward, wordlessly telling him you’ll allow him to fuck your mouth. 
“Fuck,” Jerry mutters, letting his hips snap forward sloppily. 
You nearly gag but breathe through your nose as best as Jerry’s cock slides down your throat. You hollow out your cheeks as your head bobs to his thrusts, creating a delectable rhythm that causes Jerry to moan. He grips your hair to keep your head still, fucking into your mouth quickly as obscene choking noises fill the room. You don’t mind, though. You thought about this experience many times when you were younger. Now that it’s come to fruition, you will gladly be cock drunk. Jerry’s pelvis slams into your face as he gets closer to the edge. You feel him twitching in your mouth with every erratic thrust. Jerry stills his movements, hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat and onto your tongue. Before he can offer a paper towel, you close your mouth and swallow. 
“You didn’t have to-”
“I know,” you shrug, “I don’t mind.”
Jerry just looks at you while completely blissed out, pulling his pants up.
“And you don’t have to make me feel better right now,” you say, standing up and dusting off your knees, “Maybe dinner first, and then you can make me feel better.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Jerry says.
You walk to the mirror to check your reflection, knowing you probably look like a wreck. Jerry walks behind you, running his hands along your hips as you wipe away the tears that gathered in the corners of your eyes from choking.
“You know,” Jerry leans into your ear, “My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”
A shiver runs up your spine at his words, “If you don’t shut your trap, I’ll take you right here and now, Schilling.”
“Sounds like a deal,” he smirks.
“I think I’m rather hungry, though. Do you think you could behave for a few more hours?” you tease, staring at him through the mirror’s reflection.
“I can, just as long as you behave too,” Jerry says.
“Sounds like a deal,” you repeat his words with a smile.
taglist: @heartbrake-hotel @elvisabutler @sagesolsticewrites @austin-butlers-gf
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floralcyanide · 2 years
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The Day the Music Died
Jerry Schilling x Reader Angst
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>> SUPER LONG A/N SORRY. omg it's been like 2 weeks since I've posted!! today is the first day in a long time I've felt like writing. I'm kinda sad I got writer's block during Elvis Week because that would've been fun to write for ): oh well. I watched Elvis earlier and cried of course, so I had to write angst. someone mentioned I should write some Jerry angst when I threw around the idea of writing for him, so here it is! it's very short but it's something, at least. I don't want you guys to think I ghosted lol <3 anyway, please let me know if you enjoy this!! I wanna write for Jerry and Steve so feedback lets me know you guys wanna read fic with them in it.
pairing: Jerry Schilling x Reader (gender neutral)
warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of drug abuse, major character death, grief. just,, really sad lol
word count: 1649
masterlist || wanna be in the taglist? click HERE 
It’s a mild day in August, even for Los Angeles. Not too hot, but not chilly, either. Everything has been going quite smoothly throughout the morning into the afternoon. You were able to put your and Jerry’s youngest son down for a nap towards the end of noon without a fuss, and your oldest was off at school. Jerry has been able to relax a little since nothing work-related has his attention. He’s in his office reading silently, and you’re scurrying around him, trying to vacuum and dust off the shelves. Jerry doesn’t tear his eyes from the pages of his book as he lifts his legs from the floor, allowing you to vacuum under his chair without flinching. He cherishes the time he gets to read in peace. When Jerry isn’t working, he’s either asleep, spending a little time with your sons, or trying to read. The only time he can enjoy his pastime is usually before bed, but lately, he’s been so exhausted that he goes straight to sleep. You worry that Jerry’s job aiding his best friend, Elvis Presley, was starting to take its toll. But Jerry has spent almost his entire life with him, and they were as thick as thieves. Elvis even bought the very house your family is currently in a few years ago. Jerry had mentioned you were pregnant for the second time, and his best friend jumped to action. Before you knew it, you moved from a small two-bedroom to a large home in Los Angeles. 
Elvis has always loved you like a sibling, much like he loves Jerry. They have been there for each other through everything, including the highs and lows of Elvis’ career. And even now they were still close, despite the deterioration of Elvis as a man and performer. You have offered to help your husband’s best friend, who has become your best friend as well, many times. But it never seemed to help. Although Elvis always listened to what you had to say, trying to get him to stop his drug abuse was one thing he didn’t want to hear from you or anyone for that matter. Especially Jerry. You and Elvis got along and often had deep conversations about your husband before the two of you met, life on the road, and relationship advice. But whenever you’d try and slide in some guidance, Elvis would dismiss you. So you, like everyone else by this point, have taken a step back. You have tried your best, but there isn’t much else you can do for your good friend.
The telephone begins to ring, and Jerry waves for you to turn off the vacuum. You switch it off, and Jerry carefully places his bookmark in his book before sitting it down on his desk. 
“This is Jerry speaking,” he says upon answering the phone.
You decide to finish cleaning later, unplugging the vacuum and wrapping the cord up. When you return to your standing position, you look over at Jerry. 
“Is he okay?” Jerry asks after a long period of silence.
His eyebrows are furrowed, and his mouth is slightly agape. Upon hearing the person’s response on the other line, he grasps the phone with both hands. 
“No,” Jerry protests quietly, “That can’t be.”
You take a step forward in his direction, your expression mirroring his. He glances up at you, tears beginning to fill his eyes. You place a worried hand on Jerry’s shoulder, and he puts his hand on top of yours. 
“We’ll be there,” Jerry gulps, nodding to himself as he sniffs away tears. 
He hangs up the phone with a shaky hand, his eyes glossed over as he focuses his gaze ahead. 
“Elvis is dead.”
You let out a shocked breath, “What?”
Jerry doesn’t verbally respond but instead nods his head slowly before resting his elbows on his desk, letting his head fall into his hands. He sighs slowly as his shoulders begin to shake. Your fingers dig into Jerry’s shoulder as tears start to sting in your eyes and throat. One of the days you’ve feared for a long time is now here. All the coaxing and convincing over the years couldn’t prevent it no matter who tried or how many times they tried. If Elvis wanted to help Elvis, he would’ve. But he didn’t- and now he’s gone. And there’s a giant gaping hole where warmth and kindness in the shape of a stubborn man used to be. Not just in you or Jerry, but in everyone who knew Elvis. 
Jerry’s cries are becoming audible, and you turn and place your hands on his cheeks, pulling his face to your direction. Neither of you says a word as you exchange looks of sorrow. You let Jerry bury his face in your stomach and sob as loudly as he wanted. The sound of it was muffled, but the feeling of hot tears seeping through your clothing was enough to let you know the deep pain Jerry was feeling. You run your fingers through his hair as you begin to cry yourself. Covering your mouth to not wake your sleeping child, you let yourself feel the loss. You try not to think about how Jerry can go on without Elvis. Jerry has known him since he was twelve and Elvis nineteen. Their whole lives. You cry for your husband, for Elvis and his family, for the fans, and for the world who will never get to know him as you did. Sure, he did questionable things, but who doesn’t? Everyone has their faults and mistakes, but it doesn’t make them less of a person. It didn’t make Elvis less than the charismatic and intriguing person he was. Jerry is one of the few people on Earth who knew Elvis like no other and loved him despite his faults. Having him gone now is going to be an adjustment. 
“Jerry,” you mutter, patting his upper back a little to gain his attention.
He whimpers in response, having stopped crying a few moments ago.
“Who called?”
“Priscilla.”
“Well, you told Priscilla we’d be with her,” you remind Jerry.
“Yeah,” he sniffs, lifting his head from your abdomen and running a hand over his face.
“I’ll see if my mother can come to get Aaron and Carson while we sort things out,” you suggest, and Jerry agrees.
You quickly ring up your mother and ask her to take your sons for the rest of the day, telling her that you’ll explain what’s happening when she gets to the house. She tells you she’s heard the news already, but she will be at your home as soon as possible. Jerry gathers himself, standing up straight and taking deep breaths as you fix your clothing and wipe your tears away. The thought of cleaning has been abandoned altogether. The vacuum remains in its spot as you and Jerry walk out of the office hand-in-hand. You check the time as you pass the hallway clock and realize it’s a little past the time you were supposed to wake up Aaron. Jerry says he will head downstairs and call the rest of the crew since Priscilla wasn’t in the right state of mind to do so. You quietly walk into Aaron’s bedroom and see he’s already awake and playing with some of his matchbox cars on the floor. 
“How long have you been awake, sweetheart?” you lean down, your hands pressed against your knees as you study Aaron’s elaborate setup of cars.
“I had a weird dream,” Aaron mumbles, shrugging his little shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” you frown, “Do you wanna talk about what happened in the dream?”
“Uncle El showed up and told me not to be sad, but why would I be sad?” Aaron furrows his eyebrows in confusion, repeatedly rolling his car across the floor so the wheels would keep spinning.
You bite your lip and hold in the burning feeling rising in your chest, “Well,” you kneel down to your son’s eye level and clear your throat, “Uncle El had to go, Aaron.”
“Go where?” the toddler asks innocently, still preoccupied with his toys.
“Somewhere nicer than here, but we will see him again,” you move some hair out of Aaron’s face.
“When?”
You sigh, “A long time, but he’ll be waiting for us.”
“Okay,” Aaron puts down his toy and looks up at you, noticing your sad expression, “Like you said, we’ll see him again, don’t worry!”
Your son does his best to wrap his tiny arms around you in comfort. You gently rub his back as you hold back tears. 
“You’re gonna spend the night at grandma’s with Carson, is that alright with you?” you ask, and your son pulls away excitedly.
“Yeah!” he grins.
“Well, let’s get some of your stuff together, then,” you pick him up and sit him on the bed as you gather some clothes and toys for him to take.
Now that your boys are taken care of, you and Jerry could focus on what to do. What to do, you think to yourself. What do we do now? Plan a funeral? Help Priscilla and Vernon pick out flowers and choose between casket colors? It feels wrong- like you shouldn’t be doing this as young as you all are. Elvis was only 42. You’re in your early 30s while Jerry is 35. You shouldn’t be planning your best friend’s funeral so soon. But you think back to Aaron and the dream he had. Don’t be sad, Elvis had said. You want to believe it was really him who came to Aaron. You take those words to heart, whether it was just some odd dream or a message. Elvis hated seeing people he loved and cared for sad, so the dream made sense. So for today, you’ll allow yourself to be sad. 
But tomorrow, you’ll try your best not to be. 
taglist: @cozacorner @onxlymnsn @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @jolovesfandoms @austinbutler17 @slutforblueeyes @misspygmypie @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @bobbykennedyfan @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @sarachacha @kittenlittle24 @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @csmt-m @apparently-sunshine @amiets2 @emchickynuggies @mrs-butler @satninbeaulieu @ari-nicole @xmusse @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @jessieeisenburg @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhore @sassy-ahsoka-tano
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floralcyanide · 4 months
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― E L V I S (2 0 2 2) ❁
♡ M A S T E R L I S T ―
ғɪᴄs ʟᴀʙᴇʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ sʏᴍʙᴏʟs ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴜᴄʜ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.
smut ✺, fluff ✿, angst ☁, gore ☆, nsfw☼
↬ 𝖾𝗅𝗏𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗅𝖾𝗒
- 𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗎𝗌𝗍 ☁
- 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗒 ☁
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇: 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗀𝖾 ☼✺
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇: 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗑 ☼✺
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗋: 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅 ☼✺
↬ 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀
- the 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼 𝖽𝗂𝖾𝖽 ☁
- 𝗃𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 ✿
- 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗈 𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗂𝗆𝖾 ☼✺
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍: 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗑 ☼✺
↬ 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋
- "𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗌" 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 ✿
- 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒, 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 ☼✺
- 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗅𝗏𝗂𝗌' 𝖾𝗑 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 ✿
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝗇: 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ☼✺
- 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗏𝖾: 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄 ☼✺
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floralcyanide · 2 years
Text
The Extra || Austin Butler x OC
Chapter Four
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Pairing: Austin Butler x OC
Warnings: language, mention and description of alcohol, description of drinking, being drunk, passing out, austin being an asshole, hinting at innuendo
Word Count: 3011
>> yay for chapter four! we're about to hit a major plot point so buckle up buttercups. I know aus is being an absolute ass in the beginning of this, but we love to see character development, right? anyway, please enjoy this chapter! <3
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I've decided to start writing again for the first time in a year. After what happened yesterday between Austin and me, I needed to get out some pent-up emotion about the entire situation. From before the breakup to during and after the breakup until today, there have been many different feelings towards Austin and our relationship. I don't hate him- I never did. But there's still anger and resentment towards him, and even hostility because I feel he's solely responsible for our seperation. However, there's also a deep sadness for what could've been and how easily things just ended. Our relationship went out like a quiet flame. There's a touch of relief, though, because I can be who I want and not worry about someone breathing down my neck and shoving possible roles in my face at any given time. But Austin did apologize, and deep down, I think he didn't truly mean his words. He was just upset and emotional, which sometimes makes us do and say stupid things. For example, me acting like I had no idea who Austin was upon seeing him for the first time in a year. I regret it now, just as Austin regrets what he said, but it has provided an opportunity for us to at least be friends again. And what's a better way to start over than not knowing who someone is?
I'm deep in thought with my fingers flying across the keyboard. I almost miss the buzzing of my phone next to me.
Get together at my place at 6. You in?
It's a text from Austin. I find it odd that he thought to invite me to a gathering, but he agreed to try to be friends again. As much as I want to not go, I find myself getting a little giddy to see my new friends again, and maybe Austin as well. 
Sure. Do I need to bring anything?
Nope. Everything is covered. Here's the address.
I lean back in my desk chair, letting out a deep breath. I guess I'll finish up what I'm writing and get ready. I have about two hours to do so. I planned on staying holed up in my apartment writing until I physically couldn't anymore. It's rare to get a craving to write like this, but it's also rare for everyone in the cast I'm friends with to hang out all at once. Everyone has been so busy lately. I reluctantly close my laptop and push myself up from the chair, trudging over to the closet. I decide it's best to wear something casual and comfortable, but nice too. It's pretty warm here in Australia, so I choose a cute sundress I have tucked away. It comes to my mid-thigh, so it shows enough but not too much. I'm not trying to impress anyone, but maybe make someone realize what they've been missing. I grab some simple sandals to go with the dress. I set my clothes aside and quickly shower, braiding my hair down my shoulder when I get out. I apply a little makeup and then get dressed. When I finish getting ready, I realize it's about time to leave. Grabbing my phone and a small bag, I head out the door and walk to Austin's condo, which is just a few blocks away by the beach.
When I arrive, Olivia and Luke are seated at the kitchen island while Dacre is fumbling with the record player in the corner of the living room. Tom has yet to arrive, but no one expects him to since he's so busy. 
"Roman!" Olivia smiles and gets up from her seat to greet me when she notices my appearance, "I'm glad you made it!"
She envelops me into a hug which I accept, hugging her back. Luke nods at me from his seat, his hand encircling a glass of what I suspect is whiskey. No doubt it came from a bottle of Austin's. He is currently making a glass of something at the counter, which I'm curious about. I let go of Olivia, and she makes her way back to her seat as I walk over to where Austin is standing in the kitchen.
"What are you concocting over here?" I ask, eyeballing the numerous bottles on the counter.
"Take a wild guess," Austin glances at me over his shoulder, mixing the liquor together.
He hands the glass to me, and I take a whiff of it. To my surprise, it's my drink of choice; a Long Island Iced Tea. When I'm not drinking vodka, that's my go-to.
"You remembered," I raise my eyebrows, taking a sip. Austin had a talent for mixing everything perfectly every time. 
"Of course I did," he whispers, winking at me before turning around to help Dacre find a vinyl to play.
"How many of these do you own?" Dacre asks exasperatedly from the living room.
I lean against the island, tasting my drink as Austin and Dacre banter back and forth. 
"I thought you were more of a vodka girl," Luke jokes, motioning to my drink. He must've recalled me drinking vodka at the bar the first time we met.
"Depends on how I'm feeling. But I prefer a little bit of everything," I say.
Luke hums in acknowledgment, "I like the dark stuff. Austin has good taste," he says, inspecting the glass in his hand.
"I have to agree," Dacre says as he approaches the three of us, his eyes meeting mine.
The two men must've decided on an Elvis vinyl because I can hear him softly singing in the living room.
"Did he make you a drink too?" I ask with a chuckle.
"No, not yet. I meant Austin had great taste in everything, really. Including music and women," Dacre says casually.
I looked at him, puzzled, before collecting myself before someone saw my face.
"He was telling me about someone he dated previously," Dacre leans on the opposite side of the counter, mirroring my position.
"Ooh, who was the lucky lady, Austin?" Olivia wiggles her eyebrows.
"Ah, no one," Austin shrugs, "It's been over for a while. But I'd agree with Dacre and say my taste is pretty good, though," he smirks, glancing over at me briefly.
I down the rest of my drink in one go, much to everyone's surprise.
"That was a really good drink, Austin. Make me another one please?" I say, my eyes boring into his.
"Sure thing, sweetheart," Austin says, taking the glass from my hand and walking to the counter.
Dacre holds in a laugh while Luke silently takes a sip of his drink, almost as if he picked up on something he probably shouldn't mention. Meanwhile, Olivia looks at me like I killed a man.
"Are you okay, Roman?" she chuckles, "That was quite a bit to drink."
"Yep," I say, popping the 'p,' "Just wanting to feel good is all."
I turn around and take a few steps toward where Austin is at the counter, mixing my drink.
"Does Dacre know?" I ask quietly, looking around to ensure no one is watching our conversation. Luckily, no one is paying attention except Dacre, who is looking directly at me.
"Yes," Austin says, "But only because you told him," he purses his lips.
"I only told him because he somehow knew already," I eye him suspiciously.
Austin only makes eye contact with me for a moment before sighing, "Okay, fine, I've told him about you. He must've put the pieces together. I wasn't expecting him to make a comment."
I rub my temple, "Dammit. Thankfully Dacre isn't the type to run his mouth like that, or at least I hope so," I look over to see him chatting with Luke about something, "I feel like he would've told someone by now if he were."
Austin doesn't say anything and hands me my drink, looking me directly in the eye.
"What?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.
"I just wish you had told the truth," he says. 
I sigh, taking my drink and walking back to the island where the others are. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. Austin strides over to the door and reveals Tom with a nice bottle of bourbon in his hands.
"Hey," Austin says, and the two of them embrace momentarily, "We thought you weren't gonna make it!"
"I got done with filming just in time today. Had a moment to stop by somewhere and pick this up," Tom smiles, holding up the bottle for everyone to see.
A string of hellos comes from the group as Tom approaches the kitchen. He sits between Luke and me on the stool as Austin grabs six glasses from the cabinet.
"Would you like to do the honors, Tom?" he asks, motioning to the bottle.
"Don't mind if I do," Tom chuckles, breaking the seal.
Everyone cheers as Austin sits the glasses down, allowing Tom to pour some bourbon into them. Luke and I are still nursing our drinks, but we still take a sip of the dark liquid. I knew immediately that I'd probably be getting drunk just off the little bit of bourbon and the rest of my current drink. I begin taking large gulps of the Long Island when no one is looking. Tonight was already starting to get weird.
"Let's head to the living room and get comfortable there," Austin suggests. Everyone nods in agreement, walking over to the living room.
I sit on one of the couches, Dacre sitting on one side of me with Olivia on the other. Austin and Luke take the other couch while Tom takes one of the accent chairs. Dacre stretches and puts an arm behind me, and Austin all but glares at him. Olivia is too busy scrolling through her phone to notice Austin's eyes burning holes into Dacre's arm behind my head. Seeing Austin jealous makes me almost want to laugh. Maybe there's something still there, especially with the earlier comment about having great taste in women. I almost wish for Austin to be jealous, as bad as that sounds. Does that mean I still have feelings towards him? I'm not sure how to answer that. Tom notices I've zoned out a little. I haven't touched my bourbon, and my eyes are fixated on Austin's shoes.
"So, Roman," Tom says, and I snap my head in his direction, "When are you gonna be back on set to film?"
"Hopefully, in the next few days," I smile, finally taking another sip of the bourbon.
"I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that we've missed seeing you outside of Luke's trailer," Tom says with a chuckle.
A blush rises to my cheeks, "I'll be back soon, guys. I'm not needed outside of his trailer for now."
Austin raises an eyebrow at me, probably wondering what I'm doing in Luke's trailer. He didn't really hang out with Olivia, Luke, Dacre, and me because he had the most scenes to film out of everyone here. I never mentioned to him that we all hung out, so I can only imagine what he's thinking. But I'll let him think. Hard.
Luke must've caught a glance at Austin's face because he starts giggling from next to him, "Roman, that sounds really weird out of context."
I lift my glass up while laughing, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Lucas. You know I'm always with three other people when I hang with you."
"Yeah, but he doesn't know that," Luke nudges Austin's shoulder with his, nearly doubled over in laughter at this point.
"No more bourbon for you, Luke," I snort as I watch Austin relax, "And you, Austin, don't look so sad. We'd invite you too, but you're busy."
"Oh, I know," Austin looks down, clenching his jaw slightly, "I just didn't think you would be fucking with one of my co-stars, let alone two."
The sip of bourbon I just took almost shoots from my nose, and Olivia audibly gasps from next to me. Tom raises his eyebrows in shock while Dacre retracts his arm from behind me. Luke has a look of complete distaste on his face as he turns to Austin.
"What the hell, mate?" Luke asks, appalled that Austin would say such a thing out of nowhere.
I wasn't expecting it to come out of his mouth either. Maybe I let him think too hard. I down the rest of the bourbon without a word. The room falls silent. 
"That was a dick move, man," Dacre mumbles. 
I quietly get up and go to the kitchen to pour another glass of bourbon, this time all the way to the top of the glass. Just when I thought Austin had already said the rudest thing to me, he comes back with a trick up his sleeve. To assume I would sleep with even one of his coworkers was a low blow, but two? What the hell is wrong with him to think that? Also, his comment opened the door to our past that I didn't want to be opened. Now everyone is going to know we have history. I take a shaky gulp of the bourbon, not daring to turn around and acknowledge everyone in the room behind me. Suddenly, I feel a gentle hand on my upper arm. I slowly turn around, fully expecting Austin to come to say something else rude to me. But instead, it's Tom.
"Would you like to step outside with me for a moment?" he motions to the door.
"Sure," I say, not looking him in the eyes as I walk towards the entrance.
The two of us exit the condo and stand on the balcony that overlooks the ocean. Nothing is said for a few minutes as I continue to take large sips of the dark alcohol. With every gulp, my head gets fuzzier. We are leaning against the balcony edge, staring at the waves as they crash onto the shore.
"Are you okay, Roman? I know what Austin said had to have struck a nerve," Tom asks finally.
"Yeah," I breathe out, "I wasn't expecting it," I say, inspecting the now half-empty glass in my hand.
"Did something happen between you two?" Tom is now facing me as his forearms rest against the railing.
I nod wordlessly. 
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"If I tell you," I say quietly, "You have to promise to not say anything to anyone else. Dacre already knows, but no one else does on set."
"Your secret is safe with me," Tom pats his chest.
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly before answering, "Austin and I dated for five years until a year ago when I broke up with him. I've been lying about not knowing who he is. But we both agreed we'd continue to act like we didn't know each other so we could get to know each other all over again, but I guess that didn't work out."
Tom only hums in response before speaking, "I could tell there was something between you two when you looked at each other."
I finally look at Tom with complete attention, and he doesn't really have an expression on his face. Almost like he already knew. Maybe at this point, everyone does for all I know.
"How do you mean?" I asked, swirling the bourbon around in the glass a little.
"You can always tell when two people love each other by how they look at one another," Tom says, standing up straight.
"I can't say I still love him, or at least not like I used to. The reason why we broke up is that he didn't support my career. I constantly heard that my job choice wasn't good enough and that I deserved a better one because I could do it."
"Well, are you capable of it?" Tom asks.
"I don't know. But I'd rather stay out of the limelight. Besides, I'm just an extra, anyway," I say, downing the rest of the bourbon.
"Says who?" Tom furrows his eyebrows in disbelief.
"Says Austin," I say, beginning to walk back to the door.
"Prove him wrong, then," Tom says, opening the door for me, "Because you, young lady, are more than that."
I look up at Tom and nod, "Thank you."
He just smiles and closes the door behind us. The condo is silent except for the vinyl still playing. Tom and I walk into the living room to see everyone awkwardly on their phones, except Austin, who is sitting in a chair with his arms crossed. He notices I've walked in and stands up immediately.
"Roman, can I talk to you?" he grabs my elbow softly, and I yank it away.
"I'll give you five minutes," I say, trying not to slur. The alcohol began to hit me full force.
The two of us enter the kitchen, where we're out of earshot. I turn and face Austin, who looks really guilty.
"I'm sorry for saying that. I shouldn't have assumed anything or even said it out loud-"
"Sorry for saying what, Austin? I want you to repeat it back to me. And don't apologize just because you likely got scolded by everyone here," I spit, my blood running hot with drunken anger.
"I'm apologizing because I mean it. I'm sorry for saying you were fucking around with my co-stars. I'm sorry for not thinking before I speak," Austin grabs my elbow again, to which I pull it from his grasp again.
"Sorry, but I can't forgive you right now," I chuckle, everything becoming a little blurry, "For someone who is an actor, you really don't know when to not pretend, do you?"
Austin is now holding both of my arms to steady me, "Roman, what are you talking about? Here, let me take you to the guest room."
"I'm talking about you really sucking at pretending you don't still love me," I manage to get out before everything around me fades to black.
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floralcyanide · 2 years
Text
The Extra || Austin Butler x OC
Chapter Three
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Pairing: Austin Butler x OC
Warnings: language, Richard plays Vernon, Helen plays Gladys, and Kodi plays Jimmie.
Word Count: 2396
>> chapter three is finally here! thanks for all the support for this series <3 I appreciate it. keep letting me know if you're enjoying it, it helps me with inspiration (:
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February 2020
Everyone is buzzing about the Lousiana Hayride scene. It was far more intimate than the Trouble scene since significantly fewer extras are crowded together. Instead of hundreds of extras, there's way less for this scene specifically. It's not as overwhelming and loud, much to my relief. The only downside is I have to wear a wig from now on as an extra just so it isn't apparent that I'm the same person in different scenes. I'm sitting in the stylist's chair, waiting for the wig glue to dry. I'm on my phone texting Tyler when a notification pops up. My eyes widen in horror at the old contact name.
Austin &lt;3
I immediately lock my phone and ignore the message. A few moments later, another message appears on the screen. I reluctantly check what they say because the notification will bother me if I don't.
Hey, is this still Roman's number? 
If not, I apologize for bothering you.
I sigh, deciding to respond because it'll say I read the messages anyway.
Who is this?
Immediately, I see the typing bubble. I start chewing my lip nervously. 
Is this Roman?
As much as I don't want to respond, I do reluctantly. I should really turn read receipts off.
Yes. Again, who is this?
It's Austin. I wanted to make sure I still had your number, just in case.
I scan the room to see if I can spot him anywhere, but no luck. I don't respond to his message and continue scrolling through Instagram. Not long after I begin reading a lengthy caption from someone's spam account, another message pops up.
That's okay, right?
Yes, but I don't recall giving you my number.
Are you still acting like you don't remember me? We literally spent five years together.
"Wig feeling tight yet?" my stylist asks from behind me, and I hurry to put my phone away.
"Yeah, it is," I say, even though I'm not entirely sure if it is. I just didn't want my stylist to possibly see my phone screen.
"You should be all set, then."
I get up from the chair and smooth out my skirt and blouse, looking in the mirror to ensure everything is neat. I look like a different person almost entirely. The wig is a different color from my natural one and is lightly curled. A few ringlets fall along my face and I look like I walked straight out of the 50s.
I leave my phone with my things at the vanity, heading over to the set in the next building where the stage is. On some of the chairs, there are markers where the girls who will be screaming are to sit. One of them is for me about halfway into the crowd, where I have a fantastic view of the stage. I take a seat as other extras begin to pour into the room. The stage is set up, so now all we have to do is wait for Kodi to appear with other extras to begin filming. 
Baz comes onto the set and settles into his chair, "Places, everyone!"
All the extras settle into their respective places along with Richard and Helen, who aren't far behind you in the crowd. The set falls silent, awaiting Baz's call.
"Action!"
Kodi comes barreling on stage with the other extras, playing their instruments as everyone claps along to his song. He sings and plays briefly before Baz calls, "Cut!"
"I need everyone's claps to be more enthusiastic and on time with each other. Act like you're at a real hayride!" Baz says, "And, action!"
Kodi returns to the stage from his place behind the curtain as animated as ever, waving before strumming his guitar as everyone claps along better this time. His performance comes to a close and everyone ceases clapping to await Austin to take his place on the stage next. The radio host announces him, and he walks onto the stage nervously. Austin stands close to the microphone, mumbling his lines into it as the crowd remains dead silent. He begins to sing, and the microphone echoes feedback as hair falls into his face.
"Get a haircut, buttercup!" one extra yells from his spot up front, and everyone laughs on cue.
Austin takes a moment to gather his character before starting to sing, "Well, you may go to college, you may go to school," he strums his guitar, beginning to wiggle his hips, "You may have a pink Cadillac but don't you be nobody's fool."
As he wiggles more, an extra from the front stands up and squeals. Apparently, it wasn't real sounding enough because Baz makes us start the performance scene again. Thankfully, not from the beginning but after the buttercup comment is made. So Austin begins to sing again, wiggling his hips as he plays the guitar. The extras squeal again, this time doing better as Baz makes no comment. Austin continues with the scene, being almost comical with moving his hips for the crowd to become antsy. It's my turn to let out a noise now. I stand up and shriek, grabbing at my face dramatically as my eyes grow large at the movements Austin is portraying. He makes eye contact with me, a smirk that was already on his face growing at the sound of my shriek. Continuing with the scene, Austin does a spectacular job of riling everyone to believable energy in the crowd. Girls gather at the stage and rip his blazer off. I stifle a laugh, still ogling at him for the camera. Helen hurries to the stage, citing her line. Baz doesn't think she does it justice and makes us retake a few times until she gets it dramatic enough. Finally, her cry about the girls trying to kill her son goes perfectly. Austin disappears behind the curtain, readjusting his guitar across his chest.
"Cut! That was fantastic," Baz applauds after watching the final shot, "That's good for that scene for now."
I can’t deny that Austin is talented and has become even more so since we broke up. When we were together, he hadn’t played any significant roles except The Shannara Chronicles. After we split, Austin played in Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, which I thought was impressive. But playing Elvis is far more impressive in my book, especially since he can channel his character and personality very well. His performances in the Trouble and the Louisiana Hayride scenes were impeccable. I’m proud of him, even though I still feel an odd emotion towards him that I can’t quite put my finger on.
After today's filming, I don't need to come back for a week or so while other scenes without extras are being filmed. There's no use for me there other than to watch the filming. I stop by every few days and hang out with Dacre, Luke, and Olivia in Luke's trailer when they aren't filming or are practicing their lines. Sometimes Tom will even come in and say hi when he isn’t filming. Tyler has also hung out with us a few times, like today. Tyler has only been an extra for a few years, so he's sometimes still a little starstruck by Tom. However, Tyler already knows Dacre because he was an extra on Stranger Things. So both will talk about how fun the show was to film and the details of behind-the-scenes. I'm nearing the end of my week and a half long break, much to my relief. As much as I love hearing the story about how Tyler "accidentally" tripped and fell into Joe Keery's arms, I'm excited to go back to work. Hopefully, I'll be back to being an extra next week. I haven't had much to do except hang out on set or clean my apartment out of sheer boredom.
I'm lounging on the couch in Luke's trailer while reading the script. I'll read some of Austin's lines while Olivia replies with her lines. Here and there, I'll suggest a change of tone, among other things.
"Have you ever played a role before?" Olivia questions, an eyebrow raised.
"I have been in several musicals as a teenager and young adult, but nothing too serious," I shrug, "Why?"
"You have really good suggestions, almost like you've done this before," she says.
"Well, I-" I begin to say that I have practiced with someone before, many times. But I stop myself because no one is supposed to know that I know them.
Olivia looks at me expectantly, so I come up with something quickly.
"I've just helped a lot of co-stars practice, is all. I've been in a lot of productions, so…" I trail off.
Olivia nods, taking the bait, "Good point. But you're good at it. Since you write, you can possibly try to write scripts maybe?" 
I make a face in agreement, "I never thought of that."
There's a knock on the door before one of us can say anything else, and Luke gets up from his position at the dining table to answer it.
"Delivery for Roman Todd," someone says at the door.
Luke struggles to get in whatever was handed to him, and Tyler gets up to help him.
"God, who hurt you?" Tyler laughs from the front of the trailer.
"What are you talking about?" I shake my head, shouting so he could hear me over the sound of rustling.
Tyler and Luke bust through the trailer with a large bouquet of flowers and an Elvis teddy bear.
Luke grabs the card that is sticking up from the dozens of roses, "'To Roman, please forgive me? Happy Valentine's Day.'"
"Who could've sent you this?" Olivia gasps, standing up from the couch and grabbing the bear to inspect it.
"I'm actually not sure," I furrowed my eyebrows, still sitting on the couch in confusion.
"Well, whoever it is definitely wants to be forgiven," Tyler chuckles, sitting the bouquet on the dining table. It takes up almost all of the space on the tiny table.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and a message from Austin is on the lock screen.
I hope you like the roses.
I immediately facepalm my forehead, "Dammit."
"Is everything okay?" Olivia asks, handing the bear to me.
I take the red bear, inspecting it with a sigh, "Yeah. I think I know who sent this to me."
"An ex-boyfriend, maybe?" Tyler asks as he plops back down in the dining area, his face almost entirely covered by roses.
I glare at him warningly, "I think so."
"If my boyfriend sent me this, I'd forgive him. I'd kiss his feet," Tyler raises his eyebrows, whistling at the sheer size of the bouquet.
"There will be no feet kissing, okay?" I finally get up from the couch, leaving the script behind, "I'm gonna talk to him about this if you'll excuse me."
Luke, Tyler, and Olivia watch silently as I storm out of the trailer, pressing the call button by Austin's name. Frustrated, I pace outside the trailer while waiting for Austin to pick up the phone. 
"This is Austin Butler. Sorry I couldn't make it to the phone-"
I hang up, visibly annoyed, and go to look around for his trailer nearby. I hope it's somewhere close to Luke's because I don't even feel like talking to Austin, much less look for his trailer all day. And it's not like I can ask anyone where it is because that would be suspicious. After 20 minutes of aimlessly walking around, I finally spot him leaving the set. I watch as he walks to his trailer, and I follow him. I wait until he goes inside before knocking on the door.
"Who is it?" Austin shouts from inside.
"It's Roman," I say defeatedly.
He pulls the door open, revealing his shirtless torso and eyeliner-smudged eyes. 
"Did you get the roses?" he asks, and I begin walking up the steps and push past him before he shuts the door behind me.
"Austin," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, "I forgave you a long time ago, okay?"
"Ah, so you do remember me," Austin smirks, "You really should be an actress, Roman."
I roll my eyes and cross my arms across my chest, "Look. Again, I forgave you a long time ago. I'm doing great things with my career, whether you find it exciting or not. I mean, damn, look where I am right now! I'm buddies with Tom Hanks, Austin! Dacre Montgomery has my phone number. Would just an extra ever be able to say that?"
Austin sighs, "I didn't mean that when I said it to you. You're more than just an extra, not to just me, but everyone else. You don't have to be friends with Tom just to prove that to me."
"Yeah, but you still said it. It still bounces around in my head. I'll forgive, but I'll never forget," I say, shoving my hands in my pockets.
An awkward silence falls between the both of us.
"I still am sorry," Austin says, tilting my chin up with his hand, "Can you stop acting like you don't know who I am, though?"
I move my face from his hand, "I would, but everyone is convinced I don't know you. Plus, it's been a year. A lot can change in a year about someone. So let's just get to know each other again."
Austin nods, not looking at me, "I agree. A lot can change in a year. You certainly have."
I allow my eyes to travel up and down his body for a second before focusing on his face, "You're right. I have, but it was to be a better person and a better performer."
"Does lying make a person better, Roman?" Austin finally looks at me, pressing his lips together in a line.
"No, but putting someone down for something you don't agree with doesn't either," I say, spinning on my heel to leave.
Before I can make it out of the door, Austin grabs my wrist.
"I forgive you, okay?" I turn my head to look at him, "It's done. Let's be friends and pretend we don't know each other for our sakes."
I don't give him a chance to respond before I leave his trailer.
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floralcyanide · 2 years
Text
The Extra || Austin Butler x OC
Chapter Eleven
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Pairing: Austin Butler x OC
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1493
>> sorry this chapter is short. it's taken me (no joke) a total of three weeks just to write this chapter because I've been a little stuck! but I know where I'm headed with the rest of this story now. I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated. a lot has been going on in my personal life, and I've just started back uni as of yesterday. I hope you enjoy this filler chapter!! again sorry it's kind of bleh. but I don't want you all to think I've abandoned this story <3
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August 2020
“You know, you never answered that one question I asked about Austin a while back.”
“What question?”
I’m currently curled up on the couch underneath a blanket while on the phone with Luke. As much as I wish I didn’t, I know exactly which question he is referring to. I’ve been preparing to tell him and Olivia about Austin and me and how I already knew him before the movie. But I wasn’t expecting it to be brought up so soon, despite me only having about a month left before we go back to filming. Still, I worry about Luke and Olivia being upset about me not being entirely truthful and not wanting to be in my life anymore.
“Have you ever thought about Austin that way?” 
I inhale deeply, watching Austin flip through a book on Elvis as he sits on the floor. 
“I’m going to be completely honest with you because I haven’t been since we met,” I say, silently hoping this doesn’t ruin the friendships I’ve built with Luke and Olivia, “But yes, I have thought about Austin that way. In fact, I’ve been thinking about Austin that way for nearly seven years.”
“Seven years?” Luke repeats, his voice teeming with disbelief.
“Yes, seven years. We dated for five, we were split for one, and we have been back together for a good part of this year,” I twist my face up in preparation for Luke to hang up or yell.
“Wow,” Luke sighs and is quiet for a moment before chuckling, “Olivia owes me fifty dollars.”
My face quickly turns into one of shock, my mouth hanging open, “What?”
Austin turns his head to investigate my outburst, his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.
“We all kind of figured there was something between you two,” Luke says casually, “Besides, we figured if you two were together at some point, there was a reason you were saying you’d never met him before. We just didn’t know what it was.”
I’m still far too stunned to form a coherent sentence, so I just laugh in surprise.
“The way you look at each other and sometimes act around each other is pretty obvious, Roman,” Luke is now laughing as well.
Austin still looked confused about my conversation, so I put my hand over the speaker and whispered that I’d tell him about it later.
“Alright, then. That was a little less painful than I thought it would be but much more shocking than I thought it would be, too,” I joke, pressing my hand to my forehead to regain my senses.
“I’m glad you cleared it up, though. Everything makes a little more sense,” Luke says with a  chuckle, “Too bad I can’t ask you to go out for drinks now.”
“Oh?” I raise my eyebrows in surprise, “What do you mean by that, Luke?”
“I wanted to get to know you more, but I wouldn’t want to overstep since you’re with Austin,” Luke confesses.
“I understand,” I say, “We can still hang out when we start filming again, though!”
“Yeah, of course,” Luke clears his throat, “I’ll leave you to it, then. Lots of work to do still. Talk later?”
“Yep, lots of work,” I sigh, “I’ll text you later.”
“What was that all about?” Austin pipes up after I hang up the phone.
“I told Luke about us and how I wasn’t being completely honest about how you and I met. It turns out everyone kind of knew already. He and Olivia made a bet,” I scoff.
“Not surprising when it comes to those two,” Austin shrugs with a chuckle, focusing back on his book.
“Do you want me to go ahead and cut and color your hair, or do you wanna wait until we get back on set?” I ask.
Over the last few months, I’ve been cutting and trimming both of our hair myself since the salons were closed. My mother was in school for cosmetology, so she taught me the basics of cutting and coloring hair. It definitely came in handy this year, especially since Austin’s hair grows like a weed. Now that it’s nearing time for filming again, his hair needs a new dye job. After a few months, he became fully blonde again.
“You can go ahead and do it. I think Baz would appreciate us being prepared,” Austin points out, not looking up from the Elvis book.
I unwrap myself from my blanket and stand up to stretch before making my way to the guest room, where all my stuff is still stored. I dig through the drawers before finally spotting the shears and hair dye tools. I gather the things I need in my arm before heading to the kitchen to dump everything on the island. The black hair dye is in the bathroom under the sink, so I grab that and some conditioner. I pull a chair from the small dining area and put it next to the island. A shorter chair works better than an island stool since Austin is much taller than me. I unbox the dye, pour it into a mixing bowl, and add the conditioner, mixing it with a dye applicator brush.
“Babe!” I called out to Austin, “Grab a towel from the bathroom and come in here!”
Austin comes out of the living room, book in hand, and does as I asked him to. He perches himself on the dining chair, letting me wrap a towel around his shoulders. His nose is still stuck in the book he’s been reading.
“Aus, I don’t want to get hair or dye on your book accidentally, so you might wanna put it away for now,” I say, getting the stuff ready to dye Austin’s hair.
“You’re right,” Austin sighs, closing the book and putting it on the counter a little reluctantly.
While I swipe color onto his hair, we both recite our lines to each other. I’ve been getting better at memorizing many, many lines and scenes. It’s something I’m not entirely used to doing for myself. I subconsciously remembered lines while helping Austin years ago but never did it for my own career. I didn’t need to until now. So, it was a little difficult sometimes to study scenes purposefully. But after a few months, it’s gotten ten times easier. 
Before filming would officially resume for everyone, Austin had to rehearse some scenes again, such as the Comeback Special. That would start in about a week. I’m excited to join and watch him become a better Elvis than before, now that he had more time to really dig into who he was. Austin’s voice has become noticeably deeper and has a southern edge to it now that he’s had coaching. He sounds nearly identical to Elvis now.
“Did Luke say something weird while on the phone with you earlier?” After a moment of silence, Austin asks, “You had asked what he had meant about something.”
I somewhat hesitate to answer, knowing how he had previously reacted to my closeness with Luke and Dacre. But knowing one of them actually had an interest in me meant something else entirely.
“Oh, nothing. Luke just wanted to hang out more but didn’t wanna cross any boundaries,” I say, not completely lying, “I just misunderstood what he meant.”
“Oh,” Austin mumbles, “Cause I know he had a little thing for you when you first met. That’s why I acted out when everyone was over. I didn’t want to say anything to you about it.”
My eyebrows shoot up in shock, “Really? He never showed it.”
“We’re actors, Ro. We know how to pretend when it’s necessary.”
“True,” I admit, “But still. I had no idea.”
“If we hadn’t gotten back together and you knew he liked you, would you have dated him?” Austin asks.
I gulp, mulling over the question as I finish applying the dye to Austin’s hair, “I’m not sure. I wasn’t planning on dating while being on set, but things change, obviously.”
“So is that a no?”
I bite my lip to hold back a sarcastic remark, “That would be a no. Because I still had some feelings for you before we got back together, remember?”
“I do,” Austin nods.
I let Austin finish reading his book while the dye processes and I straighten up the condo a little. After a while, I go to rinse out his hair and start to cut it. Eventually, his hair is back to its normal length and as black as night. 
“You look like him, you know,” I smile from behind Austin, who is standing in the mirror of the bathroom, running his hands through his half-dry hair.
“I’d sure hope so,” he says, jokingly deepening his voice to sound more like Elvis.
“Come on, let’s go watch some King Creole,” I drag Austin to the living room, where we spend some of our last bits of free time before filming begins again.
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floralcyanide · 2 years
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The Extra || Austin Butler x OC
Chapter Twelve
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Pairing: Austin Butler x OC
Warnings: mentions of purposeful emotional harm, crying, sad Austin ):, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of innuendo but if you blink you'll miss it, nothing too crazy.
Word Count: 2142
>> it's been a long time, baby! it's been a long time. but chapter twelve is now here, my beloveds. I'm sorry I've been so busy. every occurrence that I have free time, I'm either doing classwork, trying not to scream, having to do super fun adult stuff like grocery shop, or I'm resting. please enjoy this chapter even though it's fairly drab imo!!
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September 2020
I’m clutching a coffee in my hand and trying to ignore my incessant trembling. The caffeine and lack of food this morning are stoking the nerve-wracking anxiety I feel. Today is the first day back on set for everyone and my first day playing Priscilla. Every time I try to recall my lines, my mind goes blank. Being an actress instead of an extra is new to me and has me so worked up that I’m worried about lines I don’t have to recite yet. Hopefully, I’ll settle into my role enough to remember my lines when I do need them later. One awkward thing, though, is that I’ll be sitting next to Luke for the duration of the scene, and knowing that he kind of likes me makes me feel even more nervous. I shouldn’t care because I’m with Austin, obviously. Still, the nagging feeling of someone always thinking about me in a non-platonic way makes me self-critical. So that just adds to the pile of nerves today.
My stylist pauses every now and then to let me wiggle in my seat. She's in the process of preparing my hair for the wig I have to wear, and I cannot sit still for the life of me. The coffee, anxiety, and restless energy are all teaming up to make me an annoyance to my stylist. Styling me takes the longest for this scene, even after Austin, who has to wear prosthetics and extra hair. My eyeliner in this particular scene in the movie is very intricate. I’m busy burning my eyes into my coffee cup when someone walks up to me, and it’s no other than Austin.
“What do you think?” Austin says, turning in a circle to let me have a 360 view of his leather jumpsuit.
Seeing him with the full get-up- the hair, the sideburns, and the tan- is much more surreal than seeing him in just the outfit at rehearsals. He has become Elvis. Even more so than when filming initially began.
“You look uncanny,” I giggle as the stylist gently places the wig on my head.
“And you look beautiful,” Austin smiles, and a wave of calm suddenly comes over me. 
The nerves are still there, but they aren’t as erratic. Having Austin around is enough to make me feel better. Maybe I can do this after all. With him here, everything is a little easier. He eventually wanders over to someone else to strike up a conversation with. All that has to be done for my outfit now is the makeup, and I’ll be ready to film. The ‘68 Comeback Special is being shot today, so I’ll be hanging with everyone but Olivia from our group. I still feel like I’ve betrayed Olivia somehow, but I don’t let it bother me too much. I have big shoes to fill, and I have to keep my head straight on my shoulders. Olivia has often reassured me that it’s okay that I have her role, and that it was meant for me to play Priscilla instead. I hope she’s right. I guess we’re about to see.
After wiggling around in my seat a few more times and precise eyeliner being applied to my eyelids, I’m finally done with makeup and ready to head to the set. My stylist gives me one last look over, picking at my outfit and wig and eyeballing my makeup like a hawk. She gives me the go-ahead, and I take a deep breath before heading to where I need to be on the Comeback Special’s set. I spotted Dacre getting his makeup touched up after finishing some of his filming this morning. After the beginning of the Comeback Special is filmed, Dacre has more scenes to run. I make a beeline to him because I won’t see him for a day or so if I don’t talk to him now. I hadn’t seen Dacre in person since before we stopped filming. 
“Hey, stranger,” I say as I approach him, and he has to do a double-take when he looks at me.
“I almost didn’t recognize you, Roman. You look just like Priscilla,” Dacre says, a comforting smile upon his face. He knows how nervous I am about all of this.
“I’d sure hope so,” I chuckle, “My stylist spent a while on this look.”
“You look great. You’ll do great. Don’t sweat it,” Dacre says, probably noticing that I’m shaking like a leaf.
Baz arrives on set before I can respond, beckoning everyone to get ready for positions to be called. Austin walks up to me and kisses my cheek in front of everyone, and a blush crawls up my neck from people staring. Only a few people know we’re dating, but I’m guessing a lot more people get the memo now with the PDA. Everyone begins to take their positions, and I follow along, going to where I’m supposed to stand and wait for Austin to walk out of the corridor. All of the extras have claimed their assigned spots in the audience, and it’s still appalling to me that if I weren’t playing Priscilla now, I’d likely be the girl in the blonde wig at the edge of the stage. I glance around the large number of extras and notice Tyler chatting with the guy next to him. He just so happens to catch my gaze, and I wave excitedly. A large grin breaks out on his face as he waves back before giving me a thumbs up. I’ve missed having him as a neighbor and a fellow extra. The last time I saw him was when he brought the last of my belongings to Austin’s condo months ago.
“Action!” Baz calls suddenly, and I collect myself.
Luke is a few feet away from me in his position, and I try not to look over at him. I still feel a little awkward in his presence, but I’m sure I’ll get over it. He’s fun to be around, and I’d hate to let my weird emotions ruin our friendship.
Austin begins to walk towards the tiny stage, and when he reaches me, we both lean in for a kiss. Luke then guides me over to where we’re supposed to sit behind the prop cameras. Austin saunters onto the stage, and it isn’t precisely how Baz wants it, so we start the scene over. I’m definitely not complaining that Austin and I have to share a little kiss a few more times. After two more takes, Austin gets the saunter down perfectly and starts his performance without a hitch. It goes smoothly, and we wrap up the first part of the scene. The next part is when I have to smile and look proud of Elvis, which won’t be difficult to look that way since I’m insanely proud of Austin right now. He’s doing so well, and this is only the first scene. The cameras focus on me, and I smile at Austin while shaking my head at him, clapping along to the music. Luke is next to me doing the same thing, his character acting proud of his best friend.
Filming goes pretty well for the rest of the day, so I head back to the condo alone since Austin has some stuff to work on until later. I’m rarely alone without Austin- we’ve been together for months almost at all times. The condo feels too still and quiet without him here. If we aren’t talking, there’s either an Elvis movie on the screen, an Elvis documentary playing, or a recorded Elvis concert is being studied. I walk to the bathroom immediately to take my makeup off. The eyeliner is beginning to make my eyes sting. When I’m finished, I curl up on the couch with Priscilla’s book. I’ve already read it twice, but I notice something I didn’t before every time I read it. Studying the book is helping me get into character more. It’s still so crazy to me that I was able to video chat with Priscilla herself. Not meeting in person was a bummer, but being able to talk to her at all was an amazing thing. 
Around 10 at night, Austin finally comes home. When he walks into the dimly lit bedroom, his eyes are red, and the eyeliner he’s wearing from the set is smeared. His face is a tad swollen, and his gaze never leaves the floor as he prepares for bed. 
“Are you okay, Aus?” I ask, looking up from my phone after pondering whether something was wrong.
“I’m fine,” he mutters, pulling PJs from the dresser before removing his shirt.
“You don’t look fine,” I press further with concern.
“Baz is just,” Austin trails off, hesitant to elaborate further, but he does anyway, “Trying something new with the method acting.”
“What did he do to make you so upset?” I furrow my eyebrows, putting my phone on the bed next to me to give him my full attention.
Austin undresses without responding, and I wait patiently for him to say something as he redresses into something more comfortable. He climbs into bed next to me, sighing as he runs his fingers through his black hair.
“The crew and Baz are just really hard on me so I can get into character better. I’m just upset over nothing,” Austin says.
“It can’t be nothing if it genuinely upset you,” I lean over and put a hand on his chest comfortingly, “Whatever they said or did, don’t overwork, overthink, or stress yourself for this role. You’ve already done enough. You’re doing enough.”
“According to them, I’m not. Baz told them to say belittling things to me and put me down so I know how Elvis was feeling to truly channel that emotion,” Austin frowns, stroking my hair absentmindedly.
“I love Baz, but sometimes he doesn’t know his limits. I’m sorry you have to do that,” I say, looking up at Austin, “Just remember you’re a great person and a talented actor. You don’t need to be bullied to be good at being Elvis.”
Without a word, Austin kisses my head before moving down into the bed to get ready to sleep. I roll over and turn off the light before wrapping my arms around Austin. I tuck my head into his neck and hold him tightly. This already challenging role has just gotten more difficult for him. But I know he can get through it.
In the weeks following, Austin would come home utterly exhausted. Thankfully he had a break in filming the earlier parts of Elvis’ life, so the belittling stopped for a while. Today he will be doing the funeral scene, which is painful in all aspects. Austin lost his mother just like Elvis and was also the same age as Elvis when his mother died. It is hard to channel those mutual emotions when in character, but Austin knows how to handle it. I don’t have any scenes to do today, and neither does Dacre. So, both of us are standing to the side and watching as they prepare the set. Tom has powder applied to his face while Austin is stewing and making himself emotional. One thing about being an actor is that you have to know how to cry on demand. However, for this scene, it wouldn’t be hard to. It’s probably borderline torturous for Austin. Baz calls for positions, and everyone takes their place. Austin is sitting on the floor, clutching onto one of the dresses as he stares blankly at the floor as tears stream down his face, waiting for Baz’s word.
“Action!”
Immediately, Austin begins to sob, and it’s a little unnerving to watch. His tears and raw emotion are so obviously genuine. But it’s not genuine enough. There are several takes, and as each one is attempted and failed, I can tell it’s taking a toll on him. Dacre shifts uncomfortably next to me as Austin’s face becomes redder or puffier.
“I hope he’s okay,” Dacre whispers.
I sigh, “The things he does for this role worry me sometimes.”
Finally, Baz is content with the footage he’s gotten, and Austin is able to get up off the floor and gather himself. He quickly makes his way to the dressing room, and I follow him, leaving Dacre behind. When I enter the room, Austin is sitting in the vanity chair with his face in his hands, taking deep breaths. I shut the door and hurry over to him.
“You did so good, baby. I know you’re probably tired after that, and I’m sorry,” I say, pulling his head into my chest.
“I’m okay. It’s over for now,” Austin says weakly, wiping tears off his face.
“Yeah,” I sigh, knowing more struggle and pain was to come for being Elvis, “It’s over for now.”
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elvisabutler · 1 year
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it's an apology house
summary: being a part of elvis's memphis mafia for years honestly has taken a bit of a toll on you and your partner. as it turns out, him and jerry make it up to you. fandom: luke bracey | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t pairing: jerry schilling x gn reader word count: 1215 warning: use of the nickname kitten. injury to one mr. schilling. elvis being elvis. talk of exhaustion. author's note: so consider this a valentines sequel to my kinktober pieces 1 and 2 with jerry. you don't have to read the kinktober pieces or the christmas piece for this ( click the tag and you'll find it ) to make sense because it kind of stands on its own. and yes elvis really did buy jerry his house in california and to this day jerry actually lives in it. the fact that he does will make me cry until the end of time i swear. obligatory this is for @blurredcolour mention because hey i did say i wouldn't forget these two.
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"Your arm is broken and you're telling me to calm down? The doctor said six weeks on the low side and I'm supposed to not want to murder EP." You can't help the way your voice raises an octave the more you look at how in pain Jerry looks. "It's Valentines and we spent half of it in the ER. I was planning on-"
"Kitten." Jerry's voice sounds so exhausted that you have a hard time keeping up your anger, the worry you feel for him overriding damn near everything else. "I- He didn't mean to do it- We didn't mean for it to happen. You know how he gets. Meant to reel him in and got he busted my arm. We'll celebrate tomorrow."
"That's not the point, Jerry. That's never been the point. I know he doesn't care because he can throw Linda something fun or shower her in something that makes up for everything but- do you know how terrifying it is to have Red calling me and Joe and Lamar and everyone as soon as I hung up the phone with each of them. I thought-"
"You're working yourself up." He cuts you off again, knowing that he can't give you exactly what you need in that moment. Knowing that you require a certain touch that the pain medication is dulling and shoving under a haze. "Come here." He uses his healthy arm to pat the couch's open spot next to him. "Sit next to me." He looks to see you still standing far too far away looking just as angry as you had been. "Please, Y/N? I can't- I'm not about to drag you over here."
One day you might be able to resist him, one day you might be able to tell him to shove it because you're not at his beck and call but today isn't that day. Today is the day when you sit by your partner and make a move to snuggle against him and frown. "This is why I want to get out, you know. Why I want to quit. Why we both should."
A hum is the answer only answer you get back as you and Jerry stare at the television screen plays something neither of you are paying too much attention to. "We can't both leave at once- anyone get back to you about-"
You shake your head, squeezing his hand before running your thumb over his wedding ring. "No. We can't all be in demand, Jer."
There's a hint of jealousy before he kisses your forehead. "They just think I did all the work. You're gonna find something but in the meantime- he's willing to let you stay. I know he would. And he might. He might have given me something of a bribe to convince at least one of us to stay."
"A bribe. I know he calls us a Mafia but that's a bit much." You try to joke only to look up at Jerry and see just how serious his face is. "What- What was it?"
"It not- A bribe might have been the wrong word. Especially after today. It's more of an apology present for you. Just a thank you for me and him trying to do right by me." Jerry continues to dance around telling you what it is and for a brief moment you consider making his broken arm worse to get him to focus and tell you just what he's talking about. "I actually meant to show you it today. It was going to be a nice set up, maybe a picnic."
"Jerry Schilling." You squeeze his hand in yours as you say part of his full name to get his attention before frowning. "What was it? Don't leave me in-"
"He bought us a house." The words come out in a bit of a rush before he elaborates, seeing how you're doing a fair imitation of a fish. "He bought it because I've- you know the story behind my life, Kitten. I've never really had a place to call home."
"So he bought you a house." You try and keep your tone level but the shock colors it no matter what you do. "Are you sure your pain medication isn't-"
Jerry shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "He bought us a house. Told me to settle in it if I wanted. Put down proper roots like he kinda has with Graceland." You both share a look before he shrugs. "I think that's the best permission he's going to give me to actually leave, Kitten."
You stare at Jerry for a long time, trying to figure out what to say, how to react to what he's said to you before you finally bite your lip. "We can actually make a home? We decorate and do gardening and all those stupid little things." We can fill it with stuff that's just ours is what goes unsaid. We can be just ourselves there is what goes unsaid. So much just goes unsaid that you just have to look at Jerry when you're silent.
"It's ours, so we can do whatever we want. We can grow old there. Love Memphis but LA could do us so much good." He says that part a little quieter like he's scared to admit it. "It was supposed to be your gift for Valentines."
The grin that forms on your face could light up the entire East Coast if you asked Jerry while he looked at it. He thinks maybe this is a good apology gift even if Elvis didn't intend it that way. "We could still make it my gift."
Jerry can't help but raise an eyebrow and tilt his head. "What are you planning?"
You don't answer as you move to go use the phone, leaving Jerry to worry just what shenanigans he has essentially allowed you to do. It's another ten minutes before you return to him, looking positively giddy. "Get up. We're going to our house so I can see what horrible taste Elvis is trying to pass on to us."
Jerry stays on the couch for a moment before he holds out his good arm for you to pull up. "It's not that bad, and you don't know where it is."
"But Lamar does. And Red does and a lot of people do." You pause. "It's not going to be the California house for the Mafia. But, I can whip up some snacks and E owes me for today. I want to see our house and we're going to go do that right now."
There's a moment where Jerry looks like he's going to argue with you before he shakes his head and instead uses his good hand to pull you in for a kiss, gentle as can be before nuzzling at your nose. "Let me grab a sleeping bag and we could just sleep in it overnight. If that sounds like a good Valentines date to you."
You can't help but laugh. "Why Mr. Schilling, that sounds perfect. Not as good as my original plans, but I suppose I can live with it for you. Since I love you that much." You slap his ass gently. "Go on, go grab it."
"Aye aye, Kitten."
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