#need to get back into reading my elvis books too

[mooodyblue]

venting in the tags don't mind me 🤥

[wanderingelvis]

maybe you could write headcanons about a reader whose really book smart but just does not get social cues. so like they read really intense big books but won’t notice when someone is flirting with them?

Oh I love this, Elvis would spoil her rotten!

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Pairings: 50s Elvis x Oblivious Reader

Elvis loves you purely because he's just never met anyone quite like you

He can never wrap his head around how you're simultaneously the smartest girl he's ever met, but also the dumbest

One second, you'll be babbling on about some Victorian novel that you're working your way through, the next you're sat there blinking adorably, confused as to why Elvis called you 'baby' when you're not actually a baby

Sometimes you'll let stuff like that that confuses you, go straight over your pretty little head but other times you'll get curious and ask questions

"M'not a baby Elvis, why are ya callin' me that?"

You'll giggle with pink cheeks from all his attention

"Well of course yer are, yer so yittle n'sweet, just like a baby."

Elvis will chuckle, admiring how adorable you look with your big eyes staring up at him

And that answer just ends up confusing you even more

Elvis loves taking you out on little dates though, whether that's to the park, the diner or the ice cream parlour

You don't really understand that it's a date date, you just think Elvis is a good friend

And a handsome one too

It's never long before your lack of understanding of social cues shines through whenever you're out and about with Elvis

He always has to step in to make sure you don't accidentally hurt yourself

Like when he has to run and grab your wrist, pulling you back to his side as you step into the road absentmindedly, your mind too busy looking at the pretty birds across the way

"Honey, you have got to look where yer goin', don't want my pretty girl to get hurt now,"

Or when you'll spot a friendly looking dog and you'll run straight over to pet it

And Elvis tries to remind you that you need to ask the owner of the dog if you can pet it first but you just can't help it, you just think the dogs look so cute

So you'll just end up telling Elvis all of the many facts about dogs that you know from that book you read last August, whilst he holds your hand and you make your way to get ice cream together

And even though you might have your head in the clouds sometimes, Elvis just thinks that you all the more sweeter

Having your head in the clouds also means you often don't notice Elvis staring at you and your lips so intensely when you babble on

And when you do, you don't really understand what that kind of lustful look really means

Or when his large hand with his ring-covered fingers rest on your exposed thigh whilst you're drinking the strawberry milkshake that he bought you

Or when he's able to effortlessly lift you and settle you into his lap, all the while your nose is in another big book

No, you don't understand what any of those moments really mean

You're just too busy reading and learning

You just think that Elvis is a good friend

A real good friend

[dreamingofep]

Forbidden Love pt. 5 💔❣️

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. Fem! reader]

TW: Cussing, teasing, little angst, little fluff, SMUTT!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: Hello everyone! Forgive me for taking so long to write this part. It's been quite busy since coming back from Elvis week and for whatever reason, I could not write anything spicy to save my life. I felt it was so bland and missing something! Then it finally hit me of what this needed heh.😏 I hope this was worth the wait! I'm happy with how this part turned out 🤭

*

You couldn’t sleep that night. Your brain would not shut off and all you could do was think of those damn hands touching you in all the right places. It felt even worse that John was inches away from you fast asleep. You decide to get up and read in the living room to see if that’ll make you go to sleep faster. You needed the space. Sleeping next to someone tonight just felt wrong. 

You turn on the small lamp next to the sofa and pick up something off of your bookshelf. You read the first few pages but you find yourself thinking about Elvis. About his eyes. About his hands. About how good he made you feel without you saying what you wanted. You were upset at yourself for thinking such things. You should have walked out once you found out Dianne wasn’t there. But you didn’t. You stayed and let Elvis take care of every last desire you had last night. 

You grunt frustrated and slam your book closed. You slump into the couch and try to get him off your mind. You must have laid there for hours and nothing was working. Those damn hands were taunting you even when they weren’t touching you. Your eyes finally feel heavy and you doze off to sleep. 

*

You woke up a bit jolted, not knowing what time it was. It was only eleven o’clock and you didn’t work til later in the afternoon so that made you relieved. John walks into the room dressed for the day and looks surprised you’re out here on the couch. 

“What are you doing out here?” He asks surprised.

“I couldn’t sleep last night. I didn’t want to bother you so I came out here to read,” you explain. 

“Mmm, okay. I’m about to head to work. Do you work tonight?” He asks. 

“Not til four,” you tell him. 

“Okay see you,” he says as he goes for the front door. He quickly stops and pats his pockets. “Shit where’s my keys,” he mumbles to himself.  He goes back to the bedroom to search for them. 

The shrill sound of the phone ringing makes you jump off the sofa and run to the kitchen to answer it. 

“I got it!” You yell out. 

You quickly grab the blue phone off the wall and bring it to your ear. 

“Hello?” You say very chippy. 

“Hi, baby. Just the voice I wanted to hear,” he purred. 

Elvis. 

You feel yourself crumble a bit hearing that smooth, tenor voice ring into your ear. He sounded like pure, smooth honey and was intoxicating your veins just getting to hear his voice again.

Baby? God, it was so sweet and endearing. You liked how it sounded coming from his mouth. You actually liked it way too much. Especially when he grumbled it low in your ear as his cock was buried inside of you…

You try to snap yourself out of the delusional memory and clear your throat. 

“What do you want Elvis?” You say low, just in case John comes in. 

He chuckles slightly, “damn, I can’t just call you to see how you are?” He asks coyly. 

You snap, “You didn’t for the last eleven years so I don’t understand why you would start now,” you scowl. There was a long pause on the other side of the telephone. You knew you got under his skin. You honestly didn’t care your words were borderline mean. It was the truth and it still hurt you. Even after everything you two did yesterday, it didn’t make up for the pain of losing a friend after all these years. 

The silence continued and he still didn’t say anything. You feared he might have hung up. 

“Elvis?” You whisper. 

“I want you to come over.” He says. His tone made your hair stand up. This wasn’t a question, it was a command. 

“What?” You hiss. 

“I want you here, now,” he sneered. 

“No,” you snap back, “I’m not going over when John is there,” you explain. It was all too risky. You didn’t trust Elvis to be subtle about anything. 

“I won’t ask again honey. I need you over here,” he says and the sound of the receiver clicks. 

You hotly hang up the phone and put your hands on your hips. This man made you extremely frustrated. Who does he think he is? Ordering you around like you’re just some kid. He had never spoken to you like this. 

But damn it curiosity was getting the best of you. What the hell did he want! What could he possibly want from you? You already told him you were not doing anything… salacious with him. It was the heat of the moment and you swore it would not happen. You were just there twelve hours ago. You were not going to let him have his way again. 

You quickly put a dress on and fix up your hair. 

“John don’t leave, I’m coming with you,” you yell out, hoping he hasn’t left yet. You put on some mascara and lipstick and rush out to the living room. John gives you a confused look. 

“Why do you want to go to Elvis’?” He asks confused. 

Your brain scrambles for a logical explanation. Nothing seemed like a good enough reason and you panic. 

Because he told me to come over and I can’t say no to him. 

“Well umm… that was his housekeeper that called. I forgot my pie plate and she also wanted me to write down my recipe so she could make it for Elvis whenever he wanted,” you say nonchalantly. The lie you constructed seemed good enough. John shrugs his shoulders not really caring for the story but doesn’t protest. 

“Oh okay whatever, let’s go,” he says as he goes to the front door. You sigh a breath of relief that he bought the story and you wouldn’t have to elaborate anymore. You quickly rush to the passenger side and get in, zooming down Sunset Boulevard, not knowing what state you’ll find Elvis in. Is he going to be really upset by your brazen behavior? No, you had to stay firm in your feelings. You can’t just forgive him like that. He can’t just waltz into your life again after all these years and try to act like nothing happened. 

With your wandering thoughts clouding your judgment, you realize you both were about to pull into the rod iron gates of Hillcrest house, seeing Elvis standing out in the driveway with a cigar in his mouth. His expression was blank and unwavering. He wore a dark green shirt and black slacks, with a colorful scarf that hung around his neck. A few strands of hair fell down on his forehead and gave him this dark, brooding look. You take a deep breath and pray this visit won’t be long. 

You try your best to act like nothing is bothering you. That this is going to be a brief visit and what you two did last night will not be even thought about while being under his roof. You nonchalantly walk past Elvis and give the most gracious and polite greeting. 

“Hi Elvis, nice to see you,” you say shortly, giving him a weak hug and walk into the house like it’s your own. He didn’t even hug you back. 

You walk into the cool air-conditioned house and don’t exactly know where to go. You didn’t want to be right in the middle of the entryway if Elvis decided to walk in right after you. You decided to go to the kitchen and actually act like you were getting the pie plate you forgot. 

The kitchen was clean and well-organized. There was lots of natural light that poured into the room and the smell of something in the oven made your mouth water. On the back counter, you do see your cleaned pie plate sitting there. The housekeeper walked into the kitchen and was surprised you were in there.

“Hi y/n what a nice surprise, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by,” she says sweetly. 

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry about that. I just stopped by to say hi to Elvis and get my pie plate from last night,” you explain. 

“Oh not a problem dear, I cleaned it for you,” she says as she goes to pick it up from the counter and hands it to you. “You’ll have to give me the recipe, Elvis was going on and on about how great it is to all of the guys. It was gone by the morning,” she laughs.

Your lie somehow got construed into reality and you don’t exactly know what to say but your nervous energy gets the best of you and you laugh too.

“Oh yes of course! Did you know it’s always been his favorite? I used to make it all the time when I’d visit Graceland. Any party he’d throw, I knew I needed to bake something or he’d pout about it if I didn't,” you giggle. That memory does make you genuinely happy. Those were such good times and wish you could go back and relive them.

“I don’t doubt it, honey. That sounds just like Elvis,” she says gleefully, “Let me grab you a pen and paper. Did you enjoy dinner last night?” 

You pause and have to nervously look always from her. You nod your head at her and try to put on your best smile. 

“Oh yes, it was absolutely delicious! You really outdid yourself,” you try to say even though you didn’t have a bite of it last night. 

It ended up on the floor along with your clothes. 

“I’m sorry about the little accident, we were clumsy and the plate fell,” you try to explain. She flashes you a confused look. 

“What accident? There was nothing out of place this morning when I got here,” she tells you. 

Elvis must have cleaned up the mess he made after you left which left you shocked honestly. Elvis always had someone helping him out with any sort of task. Even years ago, he always had a small group of guys that would go out with him anywhere he went. You see by the size of his entourage now that same principle applies. Even at Graceland, he always had two housekeepers working for him that would do anything he asked. They’d make any meal for him and clean up after him too. It really did shock you she didn’t walk in this morning to find the shattered plates and wasted dinner on the marble floor like when you left. 

“Yeah… umm, Elvis accidentally broke a dish but he must have cleaned it up after I left,” you say a bit timidly. 

“He broke one of the plates? Agh that boy really needs to be more careful! He’s always breakin’ stuff. But I’m glad you enjoyed the meal. It’s one of my favorites to make. I can give you the recipe if you’d like?”

She stops suddenly and looks past your shoulder, wearing a smile on her face, “Oh, hi Elvis we were just talking about you. Is there anything I can get you?” She asks sweetly.

You turn around quickly and hold your breath when you look at him. He was standing closer to you than you were expecting and of course, he was looking criminally good. You shouldn’t be surprised anymore but you still find yourself looking at him in awe. He has a cute smile on his face, the same one he’d give you when he saw you walk in the front door of Graceland. 

“No that’s alright dear thank you. I just wanted to talk to y/n privately if you don’t mind,” he says charmingly.

“Oh of course dear. I’ll be around if you need anything,” she says courtly and walks out of the kitchen quickly.

Now you two were alone again and the tension between you two could be cut with a knife. The way he looks at you… God, those eyes are scorching, blazing with an intense heat. He was like a vortex you couldn’t escape. Why would you? The way his eyes melt into your body and make you feel uncomfortably warm just being in his presence. You watch as his eyes drink you in. Like you’re his favorite drink on this warm June day and he can’t get enough of you. You’re coming to learn that you feel incredibly insecure when he does this. How his eyes are undressing you in plain sight and how he lingers on certain parts of you. You cross your arms against your body so he can get the message you don’t appreciate his rude stares.

“What did you want?” You ask more gently than you did when you asked him on the phone earlier.

He takes a few steps closer to you, not breaking his heated gaze. You back up slightly and huff when you feel your backside hit the counter. You had nowhere else to go and Elvis keeps walking closer to you. He puts his hands on your hips and slowly pulls you into his body. You both sigh and you look up into those big, pleading blue eyes of his.

“I missed you,” he murmurs holding you. He leans down and places a soft kiss on the crook of your neck. You take in a sharp breath when you feel his soft lips touch your skin. You try to hold back the pleased sigh you want to make. He felt too good pressed against you and he knew it.

You push at his chest slightly to get him to look at you.

“No you didn’t,” you mumble. He stares darkly at you, not liking your response.

“Why would I say it then,” he growls. Your heart gallops by his tone and the look he’s giving you. 

“I don’t know. We’ve only spent a few hours together, I doubt it was life changing for you…” You look away quickly, not wanting to see his reaction to that, “I don’t really know you anymore Elvis, have you forgotten that?” You say weakly. You slowly push at his chest more so he gives you space. He obliges and frustratedly ruffles his hand through his hair.

“Shit,” he grumbles to himself as he turns away from you momentarily. You nervously watch him pace the kitchen like a caged tiger, sighing and cursing under his breath. His energy made you feel on edge and you’re not sure if you should leave or if that’s going to make him more upset.

He stops and turns back to you, his eyes serious and dark.

“You regret it, don’t you?” He says shortly. You look at him stunned, you feel the air get sucked out of you.

“No, of course not,” you tell him.

“No, don’t lie. Just tell me. Do you not trust me? What is it,” he snaps a little too loudly for your liking.

“Keep your voice down,” you snarl, “I’m telling you the truth Elvis. I don’t regret anything. You just can’t act like everything is fine between us all because we had-,” you stop yourself quickly before saying it out loud. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the last twenty-four hours. None of this seemed real. His eyes were hurt when they looked at you. He didn’t like how you were dismissing most of the moments you had together so far.

He walks back towards you, trying to recollect himself before speaking.

“What can I do then? What can I do to make you realize my words are genuine?” He asks, bringing his hand to your cheek and softly caressing it. You couldn’t denounce how nice it felt to have him touch you so tenderly. You look up into his hurt eyes and see how he’s waiting on bated breath for an answer from you.

You place your hand over his and gently pull it down from your face.

“By starting to treat me like a friend again. I told you, I’ve missed my friend for so long,” you admit, holding his hand in yours.

He sighs, fluttering his eyes and shaking his head slightly.

“Honey, I’m sorry but that’s really hard for me,” he declares.

“It might take some time, yes, but I think it could be nice. We can start over and catch up. I know there’s been so much you’ve been up to and-,” You start to ramble but he cuts you short.

“No, honey, I don’t think you understand me. I don’t think I can just be your friend anymore I-… I want something more from you,” he insinuates as he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. Another spark rushes through you as you feel him touch you.

“Jesus Elvis,” you sigh, “No, we can’t. Have you forgotten I’m married to someone,” you say a bit defeatedly.

“No I haven’t, but you’re not happy. Just the way you said that sounded like it’s a burden,” he says bluntly.

You freeze and realize he’s right. You think you’ve felt like this for a while but have buried it deep down inside you. You’ve been so focused on just getting by and not realizing that the foundations of the house you made with that man, the one you made vows to, have detrimentally cracked. 

“Elvis please, don’t make this harder than it actually has to be,” you sigh. 

He pulls you into his arms again, trying to comfort you in any way he can.

“Let me make it easy then. I want you to trust me. I want you to come to me and tell me about anything you need. I don’t want this to be difficult at all. I really think we need to be in each other’s lives at his point in time,” he tries to reason. 

Maybe he is right. Maybe it all comes down to timing. Back in ‘58, it wasn’t the time to be as close as you were so he got shipped off to the army. And even when he came back, it wasn’t time to rekindle your friendship right away. What if it all leads to this moment, in this kitchen, in this house, with him holding you in his arms? Your stomach twists nervously, you didn’t like being out in the open where anyone could walk in seeing you two embraced in each other’s arms.

“Can we talk somewhere more private? I don’t want anyone hearing this conversation or walking by,” you say quietly. He quickly nods his head and motions you to follow him through the house. You prayed he wasn’t going to take you to the bedroom as that would be all too telling what you two might be doing in there. You pull at his arm when you two reach the doorway of his room.

“No please, not in there,” you say worriedly.

“It’s fine honey. No one bothers me in here,” he tells you. You check behind you to make sure no wandering eyes can see you and quickly get in the room with him.

You hold your breath as you take in the space once again. Only one drape was open today and let the golden California sunshine gleam in. You glance at the well-made bed and can’t help but relive some of those moments you two shared there. You sit on the corner of the bed, hunched in stature, not sure where you should start this conversation. 

“I do trust you, you know that right? Even though you’ve changed throughout the years, I know that my old friend is still in there somewhere,” you say pointing at the vicinity of his chest. He smiles because of this and nods his head.

“I’m sorry, but I’m here now. Anything you need, I’ll give it to you,” he says as he takes a seat beside you.

“I don’t need anything from you Elvis I-,” your voice cracking as you feel emotions hit you like a train. “You’re right I-, I haven’t been happy. It's been quite some time since I’ve been truly happy. I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore, you know?” You say as tears start rolling down your cheeks. He gently wipes them away and wraps you in his arms again.

“I do, I understand honey. I’m sorry you’ve been going through that,” he says tenderly.

“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to be sorry,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his body. “It’s just been so hard. We’re barely getting by and my acting dreams are in ruin. He doesn’t care about my feelings or what I want in life anymore. He doesn’t care about the career I want. He is just so bitter towards me. I can’t even remember the last time I was truly content with my life. I hate it all. I hate who I’m becoming... It’s like I’ve lost a piece of myself you know” you sniffle, looking hopelessly into his eyes.

He pauses deep in thought, “yes honey, believe me, I know exactly how that feels,” he says timidly.

He lets you cry, no words being said was the right thing to do. He runs his hand through your hair, soothing you without even trying. He makes you feel at peace. Just the very presence of him has you happier than you’ve been in ages.

“Was I able to take your worries away, even for a short time?” He asks innocently. You lift your head off of his shoulder and look into those intoxicating blues.

“Yes, you did,” you tell him.

“If that’s what you need me to be, then I have no problem with that. I’ll be whatever you need me to be. If you need to cry, I’ll be here to comfort you. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll listen,” he explains as he slowly slides his hand to the back of your neck, keeping you looking at him. “If you need me to show you physically, how incredibly beautiful you are… I can do that too,” he coos. 

Your heart skips in your chest, unable to take what he’s saying. In comparison to him, you did not feel beautiful or worthy of being showered with his praise.  

You sigh, “you know that last part can’t happen,” you say weakly. 

“Baby,” he sighs, caressing you in his arms, and placing soft kisses on your forehead. “Last night was… one of the best nights of my life. It’s something I’ll never forget. I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he says softly. 

That just about knocked the wind out of you. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you had thoughts about over the years what it would be like to be with Elvis. In some weird way, he knew you had. Especially after he left for the army. Those memories of the night you shared were etched into your brain forever. You’d lay there late at night, remembering how much you wanted him here in your bed, caressing your body and taking care of every last need you had. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you mumble looking down at your shaking hands. You couldn’t handle being this close to him. 

“Please forgive me for how I’ve acted. I should have taken care of you that night. I should have been here, treating you better,” he says, grazing your arm with the softest touch. 

You look back at him and can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. It was everything you had been waiting for him to say to you. It felt like some weird dream but he was very much real and telling you just what you needed. 

“It’s okay…” you mumble, looking at his lips. 

“I-, honey I want to take care of you,” he whispers. 

You shake your head, “I don’t deserve that honey,” you try to reason. 

“Yes, you do. Let me show you how much I want you. I want you here with me. I couldn’t sleep all last night,” he grumbles, placing his hand on the inside of your thigh. You jump slightly at his touch. It was so alluring and you had to fight to move it higher. 

“I know, I couldn’t sleep either. I was up late thinking about you,” you whimper. 

He squeezes your thigh, liking to hear that you were thinking the same things last night. He grumbles softly to himself when you place your hand on his leg too. 

“What were you thinkin’ about honey?” He asks gently. 

“Just not believing what had happened. That it was real,” you say blushing. 

“I know, I was in a bit of shock once you left,” he says jokingly. He scoots back on the bed with the pillows against his back. He reaches out his hand for you. “Come here baby,” he pleads. 

It took everything in you to fight the want to sit next to him on his bed. This would be the perfect opportunity to leave. Keep it on good terms and keep your clothes on. But he always knows how to pull you in and get his way. 

You go to him and crawl back on the bed where he’s sitting. Before you have the chance to sit next to him, he quickly lifts you up and sits you on his lap. You look at him stunned, not able to move from his very shocking behavior. 

“I just want you close baby,” he says coyly. “What else were you thinkin’ about that was keepin’ you up so late,” he says low, his hand firmly around your waist. His hands felt like quicksand. Every touch and caress made you weaker and melt into his lap.

“I was thinking how much I liked your lips on mine,” you tell him, rubbing his soft lips with your index finger. “And how I loved it when they gave me the most satisfaction I've felt in years,” you sigh. His eyes light up when he hears this, you absent-mindedly twirl the scarf around his neck with your other hand, feeling how soft it is. 

“Mmm, good baby.” He grumbles as he pulls you in for a kiss. There was no hesitation from you, your lips eagerly met his and you two clashed like wildfire. His heat consumed yours and you both ached for more from each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. 

He makes small groans as he kisses you more while his hands freely roam your body. You knew you said to yourself you’d try to denounce him, that you swore you wouldn’t find yourself in this situation again, but damn it you loved being in his arms. You pull at his scarf and take it off of him, tossing it to the floor. You sneak your hand into his shirt and feel his soft skin. He sighs and stops kissing you briefly.

“Was I right the other day?” He asks with a serious tone.

“Right about what?” You say a little confused and dazed.

“That you still think about my hands when you’re alone? When you’re touching yourself,” he says slyly, his hand snaking up your calf. You take a sharp breath in as you feel his fingers creep higher under your dress and rest on the inside of your thigh. You make a frustrated groan and bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying to hide the way your cheeks are flushed from the filthy thoughts you’ve had over the years. His fingers creep higher until they find your lace panties, resting his hand there. You squeeze at his arm, fighting the way your hips want to lean into his touch.

You feel your heart beat loudly in your chest and don’t know what to say to him. You just can’t tell him some of the things that have crossed your mind. He’s patient, coaxing the answers out of you as his fingers start to gently circle your clit. Wetness pools in your panties and you’re dying for him to be inside of you.

“Tell me, baby, I wanna know,” he murmurs.

You kiss his neck and grumble frustratedly. You look back up at him and see his pleading eyes look back into yours.

“Yes you were right,” you huff, placing a kiss on his cheek and hiding your face in his neck once again. His fingers continued to tease while his other hand helped spread your legs apart. He lifts your face to look back up at him and he has the most pleased look. 

“I know. I know because I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you,” he says as you gasp from the friction he’s giving you.

“God those hands kill me…” you grumble. He hums softly and continues to tease.

You grasp onto his shirt and tear at it frustratedly. You couldn’t handle how much you needed him. His fingers pull your panties to the side and discovers how wet you’ve become and he groans. 

“God baby you need me don’t you?” He asks, his voice low and gruff. All you can do is whimper and rock your hips into his fingers. 

“Yes, I want you so bad. Just like that night,” you whimper. 

“You wanted to ride me, didn’t you?” He asks mischievously. You suck in a sharp breath, not expecting him to ask something like that. But of course, he was right. That’s exactly what you wanted that night. You didn’t want him to stop you from taking off his pants and let you fuck him til the sun came up. You had zero sexual experience then but you were so confident that you could give both of you the pleasure you needed. The alcohol really made you more confident than you should have been.

“Yes, I did. I wanted you to make me feel good but you stopped me,” you say with a hint of whininess in your voice. 

He chuckles amused at your behavior, “I know baby. I’m here,” he says as his fingers tease your entrance. “Come and ride me now,” he groans. 

You grunt frustrated, you can’t take any more of this and need him. You pull at his shirt and unbutton it. You kiss and nip at his neck, leaving lipstick marks up and down it, creating a pleased grumble to form in his chest. The aching need he has created in you won’t go away without his help.

Your core continues to weep with every motion of his long fingers. You groan helplessly as your hand moves lower and gently rubs his hard cock. He groans silently and pulls you in for a kiss. 

“Yes baby, just like that. Please I want you,” he says as he takes his hand out of your panties and finds the zipper to your dress. He slowly unzips it and you get off the bed to take it off of you. His gaze didn’t look away from you. Your heart hammered away as you were about to let your dress fall to the floor. 

You let the straps fall off your shoulders and let it pool at your feet. You quickly glance over at him and watch as he looks intoxicated just looking at you. You cover your breasts with your hand and forearm. Your cheeks burn as he continues to stare and he swings his legs off the bed. He pulls you closer to him and places a soft kiss on your lips, pulling your arm away from your body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whimpers. You don’t respond to him, you can’t handle him saying those kinds of things to you. He pulls down your panties and caresses your naked body in front of him. You try to get him to take his pants off and get him to look at something else. He stands up to unbutton them and shimmies them off. He doesn’t wear anything underneath and his cock springs free. 

He looked damn good and you couldn’t help but stare at the man. 

He pulls your hand to get back on the bed with him and spreads his legs apart slightly.

“Come here baby,” he coos.

You obey and crawl on the bed with him, straddling his hips. He takes your hand and has you wrap it around his cock. You gently pump it and hear him groan as you do this. The throbbing in your core increased as you hovered over his length and rubbed it through your folds. It didn’t take long to coat him with your wetness and the feeling of him made you even more weak. 

You both lock eyes and see how badly you want each other. He was desperate for you, everything about him yearned for you and you couldn’t deny him anything. He puts his hands on your hips and helps you slowly sink down on his length. You groan as you take the first few inches of him, holding onto his shoulders for support. This felt better than you could’ve imagined, how he filled you so perfectly and made your walls hug him with each thrust. You moan softly as you take him slowly. He has the same pleased look on his face as he looks at your breasts and down to where you both are connected. 

“Oh God,” you cry. He groans in agreement, squeezing your hips tighter.

His hands slither up the sides of your torso to the front of you and squeeze your breasts in his hands. You groan with how this all feels and take a bit more of him. He pushes your body forward and his lips wrap around your nipple. He squeezes your breasts harder and sucks at them more. You can hardly function with him doing this to you. His hips buck up slightly and fills you more, making you groan loudly.

The more his hands moved all over you, discovering new spots you liked to be touched, you grew nervous again like last night and doubts invaded your mind. You were afraid this wasn’t going to be good for him. You weren’t good enough to be with Elvis like this. This wasn’t going to last. You had to be frank with yourself too, you weren’t experienced in this sort of thing. You had only been with one person he was not the adventurous type. You had to face that you were in a sexless marriage. He never asked you for such things from you which made you feel uneasy about a whole other matter you’d have to find out about. Getting on top rarely happened and you hated the way John would look up unamused at you. It made you feel small and unwanted.

 You whimper and pull at Elvis’ hair.

“Honey I can’t do this,” you sigh, lifting yourself off of his length. Elvis’ face is shrouded with concern.

“What’s wrong baby? Does it not feel good?” He asks gently. 

“No, no it does, I just- I’m afraid you’re not going to enjoy it,” you say weakly looking away so he doesn’t see your apprehensive expression. 

He gently turns your head towards him again, caressing your face in his hand. 

“That’s not true baby, I’m loving every second of it. I want you to keep going,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Really?”

“Yes baby, you feel so good, I can’t get enough,” he almost pleads. 

You can’t believe what he’s saying and see how desperately he wants you. 

He teases you by rubbing his cock through your folds again, making you throb more. You sigh, slowly moving back and forth on his length. Your core ached and needed more of him too. 

“Come on baby, take it nice and slow,” he coos. 

You nod your head at him and your breathing staggers. You hover over his length again and he helps you line up his cock to your entrance. You slowly sink down on him and feel instant satisfaction. He felt like heaven as your walls hugged him tightly and made your head fall back. 

You moved slowly, just like he told you to, and made you both moan obscenities with each thrust. 

“That’s it, baby, just like that,” he coos, rubbing your nipples lightly with his thumbs. His voice alone was going to make you finish quickly if he kept this up. You didn’t know how much you liked hearing how much he loved this. It was addicting. You loved getting praise from him you were soon discovering. 

You kept moving in slow, controlled motions, loving everything about this. 

“Take a little more baby,” he says gently. You nod your head and do just that, filling you more. 

“Oh god,” you whimper. You weren’t used to him still. He was overwhelming with the way he’d fill you in the most complete ways. He lets out a pleased groan, squeezing your hips to still you. 

“Fuck you feel good baby,” he groans as he lets his head fall back to the pillows behind him. You look away from him and your eyes squeeze closed, trembling on top of this perfect man as you slow fuck him. You move a bit more, crying out his name as your pleasure builds. You feel his hand gently move your face toward him and your eyes pop back open. 

“Look at me, Honey. I wanna see your pretty face when you fuck me,” he tells you as he thrusts his hips into you more, pushing his cock deeper. He felt so damn good in this position. His cock pushes on a sensitive spot that could have you screaming his name if you moved faster. 

“Okay baby,” you say weakly, staring into his luring eyes.

You can barely catch your breath as he helps you move a bit faster on him. You scratch at his chest and feel yourself become weaker by the second. You were going to finish soon and he was doing everything in his power to get you there. You cry out for him, begging for him to give you more.

“Takin’ me so well baby, fuck,” he grumbles, sending a pleasurable shock through your body. You loved hearing how much he liked it. You didn’t want him to stop.

“Yeah?” You whimper.

“Yes baby, doing so good. You make me want to cum in that pretty little pussy,” he groans, pushing his hips up and burying his cock all the way inside of you. You moan loudly and you let your eyes squeeze shut. Everything about taking him slow goes out the window and you move faster on him. You put your hands on his chest and fuck him harder.

His hands are firmly squeezing your hips and helping you move on him. He stills you when you’re stuffed to the hilt and trembling with need. He rocks your hips back and forth on him and you feel yourself crumble.

“Elvis oh-,” you whine. You feel your walls flutter around him and you grasp onto his forearms tightly.  

“You’re gonna cum for me, baby. Let me feel how much you love this,” he groans as he pulls you in for a kiss. 

You moan into his mouth as you feel him pound his hips into you. His pace was unrelenting and made your eyes roll back in your head. You tried to muffle your moans but it was no use, every movement had you dying. It only takes a few more slow, deep thrusts and you feel your coil snap. Your walls flutter and squeeze around his cock, making you both groan in pleasure. You claw at his arms and slowly swivel your hips on him as your orgasm rips through you. You let your head fall back, overwhelmed with what he’s giving you.

“Fuck baby that’s right, cum for me,” he coos. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the loud moan he just made you produce. God his voice somehow makes you feel more turned on. You feel your core squeeze around him again and he moans your name in response to it. You keep riding him, wanting to make you both feel as good as possible. You see stars behind your closed eyes and feel like you’re on another planet because of him.

Your eyes flutter open and love to see this gorgeous man writhe underneath you. He lets his head fall back and groans with each movement of your hips. Jesus, he looked good like this. You liked it when he looked completely fucked, when his breathing was ragged, and how his eyes drooped heavy with lust. Your body was getting tired, not able to move much more but he was helping you with that. 

You watch as his eyebrows furrow together and his mouth falls open slightly. 

“Oh baby, I’m gonna cum,” he grunts. Your breathing falters and you grind at the base of his cock, stuffing you to the hilt. 

“Cum baby,” you groan, barely able to move anymore. 

He squeezes at your thighs and bucks his hips into you, his length pulsating inside you. You cry out for him and look down at him in disbelief. He somehow felt better like this. You rock your hips back and forth slowly on him and feel his warm seed coat your walls. He curses under his breath and looks at you in shock. 

“God baby you feel so good,” he grumbles. 

“Yes, so do you,” you say lazily. He grunts louder as he feels you grind on him, giving him as much as you can give before your body was too tired to move anymore.

You finally collapse on his chest and cling to him. He tries to soothe you with gentle touches along your back and your head. Both of you struggled for breath and needed to be in each other’s arms. 

You start to lift yourself off of him but he pushes your hips back down on him.

“No baby, keep me inside of you,” he whimpers.

You lay your head on his chest and hear his fluttering heart. He was just as excited as you were. 

You both lay there for a while, calming each other down after all of that. You were ultimately in shock. You never experienced something like this. It was pleasurable, euphoric, and thrilling all at the same time. You never expected him to care so much about you. The way he practically begged for you. The way he encouraged you to keep taking more of him. It was so attractive. You couldn’t get enough of his voice. It was one thing singing, it was beautiful and melodious. But when he was directly talking to you, it was low and gravely, making you a puddle with his cock stuffed inside of you.

You whisper in his ear, “you felt so good,” you sigh. 

He hums softly, “good baby, so did you. I really can’t get enough,” he grumbles. 

“Me either,” you sigh, not believing the words that have come out of your mouth. 

He runs his hands through your hair, “stay a little longer please, don’t run off like last night,” he whimpers in your ear. You sigh, this wasn’t easy to try to say no to him.

You sit up to look at him, “you know I can’t stay long. I have work later and I was only supposed to stop by here to get my pie plate,” you tell him.

“That was the lie you constructed? That you desperately needed to come back here to get your pie plate?” He laughs.

You roll your eyes and sigh annoyed.

“No questions were asked, it was a believable story,” you joked.

“Well I didn’t have a bite of your pie, the guys scarfed it down before I could get a crumb,” he grumbles.

“Oh no you’re gonna starve,” you tease.

“Oh I’m not complaining, I got a taste of something else last night that was quite…delicious,” he says slyly. 

God save me.

“If you want me to stay longer, you’ll have to come up with a good reason this time. I already made up my story to get here, now it’s your turn,” you say smartly. He gives you a cheeky smile and nods his head.

“Okay fine, that’s fair,” he chuckles and pauses to think of a convoluted story to keep you here. He gives you a cheeky smile when he’s got it.

“I want you to bake me something, that’ll keep you here a few more hours. If you don’t, I might just pout about it,” he says childishly and winks at you. Goddamn it he’s good. You laugh softly and sigh, “fine, you win this time.”

He has you wrapped around his finger and he knows it. You didn’t want to let go though.

Tagging:

@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis

@ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers

@idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos@thisis-theway@gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you for your patience as I got wrapped up writing everything but this. I knew this chapter would be a tough one, so I kept putting it off. But I hope you all enjoy it. If you haven't been paying attention, this is the soulmate/time travel AU between Elvis and a fem!reader. It's still 2016/1966.

Need to catch up? Here is my Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m receiving) masturbation, use of sex toys, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, and angst.

Word count: ~3.5k

"Yes."

******

You've taken a short leave of absence from work because of everything you've been going through, so you get to spend the next few weeks just having fun with Elvis.

And that's exactly what you do. It drives him crazy that all his money is back in 1966 and he can't buy you a ring, but otherwise you're very happy together. Luckily, your job pays well, so you don't have to worry about that much. You offer to buy your own ring, but he refuses to let that happen. Instead, he gives you his watch to wear and insists he's going to get a job.

"I think I'd like to apply for the police academy." He says shyly over dinner one night.

"That sounds like a great idea! We need to find a way to get you a social security card, though. We can't use anything that says you were born in 1935."

"I didn't even think about that."

"It's okay. I have a former client that might be able to help us."

And sure enough, knowing criminals pays off. You manage to get a birth certificate that says he was born in '85 and use that to get him the rest of his credentials. Everything is going well when you go back to work. He gets a short-term job at Guitar Center just for something to do before he applies for the academy. Secretly, he loves it. He learns a lot from the kids he works with and before too long he's an expert in everything in the store. It's strange to admit it, but he's enjoying just being "John" and not having to be Elvis Presley.

One day, he looks in the mirror and almost has a heart attack. You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist.

"What is it, babe?"

"My hair. It's growing out. And turning light again." You can tell this bothers him. And that he refuses to acknowledge the grays that are mixed in.

"Well, get it cut. We do still have barber shops in 2016."

"I will. But the color..."

"I'll dye it." He looks at you curiously.

"You can do that?"

"Of course. I've done my own before. Black is easy." You shrug and he smiles.

Next thing you know, he's sitting on a chair in the bathroom with a towel around his neck and you're wearing gloves and squirting black hair dye onto his head. Keeping him still is damn near impossible and you wonder how he managed this in the '60s. When you reach the point where he's just waiting, you have to read to him to keep him from flipping hair dye all around the bathroom. He sits still when you produce a philosophy book that was written in the last fifteen years. When the timer goes off, he wants you to keep reading, but you'll have to come back to it later. You rinse his hair and put him in the shower and he makes you get in too. It doesn't take long for him to enter you from behind and fuck you silly in the shower. You ignore yet another portal and dry his hair with the blow dryer. He looks in the mirror to inspect your work.

"Not bad, honey. Thanks."

"You're welcome." You reach up and tussle his hair since it doesn't have anything in it yet. He grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom.

This is what it's like when you're together. Everything is foreplay and you live for the moments you spend with each other. Now, you have your fair share of little arguments, but it's never something that you can't overcome and talk your way through. In fact, you talk a lot, all the time, and that's what keeps you together. There are no secrets and everything is a conversation. This is out of character for both of you, but something about your relationship brings out the best in both of you and you thrive as a couple. Even the boring days are happy for you.

******

"Babe, can you grab my phone charger? It's on my nightstand." You ask Elvis as he's coming back from the bathroom to the couch one afternoon.

"Sure, hon. What does it look like?" He calls from the bedroom. You stifle a laugh. Of course he wouldn't know. Sometimes you forget he's out of place here in 2016.

"It's like a long cord with a little box on the end that plugs into the wall." After a few minutes you start to think he's having trouble finding it, so you decide to help. You get up and walk into the bedroom. He's standing there in front of your nightstand with the top drawer open.

"You okay?" You ask tentatively.

"Yeah, I just. Honey, what are these?" He gestures to the things inside the drawer and you blush.

"Oh, um, those are... toys... but not for kids..." You walk up next to him and look at your collection of vibrators and dildos in the drawer.

"Toys?" He looks at you with an intrigued look on his face.

"Yeah. For... well, for sex." His eyes go wide and he looks back at the contents of the drawer. Then, he looks back at you with a look somewhere between sheepish and mischievous.

"How do they work?"

"Well..." You take them out and lay all four of them in a line on the bed. "This one is just a vibrator. It vibrates and you put it on the clit. This one is too, but it also goes inside." You continue down the line describing each toy and he nods along like a good little student. When you get to the rabbit, his eyes go even wider.

"What is that?"

"This is called a rabbit." You turn it on so he can see how it moves.

"Whoa."

"Yeah. The bunny ears go on your clit and vibrate and this part-" You point to the dildo part.

"I think I know where that part goes." He chuckles and you laugh a little too. You turn the rabbit off and put it back on the bed, waiting for him to say something.

"Why do you have so many?"

"Babe, I'm a woman in the 21st century. I have needs."

"Oh!" He laughs and blushes slightly.

"And honestly, this is a pretty modest collec-"

"Can we try one?" He interrupts you and you look up at him to find his eyes sparkling with curiosity and something else entirely.

"You want to try one?" He bites his bottom lip and looks at the toys and then back at you.

"Yeah. Can we?"

"We can do whatever you want, babe."

"Then actually I wanna try two." You suppress a smile. He's so excited and it's cute when he's like this.

"Which two?" He grabs the first vibrator and then hesitates.

"Fuck it. I'm curious." He grabs the rabbit and you put the other two back in the drawer. You lay down on the bed and he undresses you carefully. When you go to take his shirt off, though, he stops you.

"Oh no, honey, I just wanna play with you."

"Ohhhh." You lay back on the bed and he finishes taking the rest of your clothes off. Once he's got you completely naked, he runs his hand from the middle of your chest down to your center.

"Are you excited for this baby? You're already wet for me."

"I am." You answer breathily as he slides a finger inside you. He hands you the vibrator.

"Show me how you use this one." You click it on to the speed that you like and then place it gently on your sensitive bud. Immediately, you throw your head back and moan.

"Wow." He says quietly under his breath.

"Mmmm." You can't make words with the intensity of the pleasure that's rushing through you. He continues to push his one finger in and out of you as you move the vibrator around on your clit and he watches in awe. When you come, hard, he looks up at you, surprised.

"Already?!" You feel yourself pulse around his finger as the orgasm washes over you, bathing you in exquisite pleasure. When you come back down, you pull the vibrator away and look down at him.

"Yeah. It happens fast."

"Can you do it again?"

"I can do it over and over as much as I want, really."

"Okay, this is my favorite thing from 2016." He grabs the vibrator and looks at it. Then, he turns it on and puts it back on you. After 3 more orgasms, you have to beg him to stop because you're so sensitive.

"I need a break, baby." You put your hand in his hair and try to gently pull him up to lay next to you on the bed, but he resists.

"I haven't even tried this one yet." He holds up the rabbit and you whimper. "You can do it, honey, show me how this one works for you."

You take the rabbit and slowly push it inside you. Then, you arrange the ears to be just where they need to be on your clit. You whimper again and he pushes the button to turn it on.

"Oh FUCK." You say it loudly and slam your hand on the bed and he laughs. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!"

He laughs again and starts to slowly move the rabbit in and out of you, mimicking what he would do with his cock. You come again, harder than you ever have, and try to pull back away from him and off of the rabbit, but he follows you and keeps pushing it in and out of you. By this point your whole body is shaking and covered in sweat. You know what's coming and you have to stop him before it happens.

"No no no! FUCK." You scream and pull the rabbit out as you come again, but this time when you pull the dildo out, you also squirt everywhere. And because of his position between your legs, his whole chest gets soaked. This is what you were trying to avoid. "OH MY GOD."

This might be the most embarrassed you've ever been, so you try to back away from him and curl into a ball, but Elvis just busts out laughing. He does the biggest laugh he's done since you've been together and rolls over on his back unable to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry." You cover your face with your hands and wish you could just disappear.

"You told me to stop and I didn't! I got what I deserved!" He continues laughing his big-joy laugh and then sits up, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Thats when he notices you trying to sink into the pillows. "Aw, honey, come here. You don't need to be embarrassed. C'mere."

He crawls over to you and wraps you in his arms, pressing his bare skin against yours.

"You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?" You nod.

"Yeah, that's not the first time I've done it."

"You know, I've heard about it but I kinda always thought it was just an urban legend. I've never seen it myself until now. Looks like I was wrong!" He laughs again and you can't help but start to laugh with him. You relax in his arms and both of you lay there laughing together.

After a few minutes, he rolls into you and presses his erection into your thigh.

"Oh, no, you wore me out. You're gonna have to take care of that yourself." He whimpers and pouts, sticking out his bottom lip.

"Will ya just talk to me at least? And stay naked so I can look at ya."

"That I can do." He rolls onto his back and pulls his pants off so that he's naked too. He wraps his left hand around his cock and starts to stroke himself, gently moving his foreskin back and forth.

"Mmm. Talk to me baby." You roll over on your side and he looks down at your body as he pumps his dick.

"Imagine that I'm sucking your cock. I'm doing that thing you love where I pull the whole thing in my mouth and you hit the back of my throat."

"Mmm yes, baby, that's so good."

"And now I'm holding you back and licking a slow circle around the tip." When you say this, he rubs his thumb over the head of his cock and groans.

"What else, baby?"

"Now I'm gonna climb on top of you and fuck you with my tight little pussy."

"Goddamn, baby, you know I love your pussy." He closes his eyes and continues stroking his cock, picking up speed.

"I'm sliding up and down on top of you, taking you so deep, bouncing on you just like you like."

"Yes, fuck baby, mmmm."

"You like it when I lean against your chest and let you fuck me so hard from underneath?"

"God, yes, baby, I fuckin' love that. I'm gonna come." At the last second, you crawl between his legs and pull his cock into your mouth. "OH FUCK YES BABY!"

He comes hard into your throat and you suck it down, swallowing every last drop. You keep bouncing your mouth on him as he softens and he laughs and grabs your hair.

"Stop, baby, it's too sensitive!" You keep sucking him and he does a little scream. Finally, you pull off and look up at him.

"Oh, is it too much? You want me to stop?"

"Yes! Yes! Okay, you made your point!" He grabs you and pulls you into his arms and then rolls over, pinning you on the bed as you both laugh again. He starts peppering your face with kisses as you giggle.

"I love you, y/n." He stops and looks into your eyes, moving so that you're no longer pinned.

"I love you too, Elvis." He caresses the side of your face and then runs his thumb across your lips.

"I'm so glad I'm here."

"Me too." He pulls you to his chest and you lay there together, naked and wrapped in each other, both of you content to stay this way for the rest of your lives.

******

In May, Elvis has saved enough to buy you a perfectly respectable engagement ring. He assures you that you'd have at least 10 carats in 1966, but you love your 1/2 carat solitaire because you know how hard he worked for it.

By June, you're both tired of not being married, so you decide to load up and head to Vegas. At the airport, Elvis is totally perplexed by all the safety procedures to get on the plane. You sigh deeply and explain 9/11 to him. He's almost in tears by the end of your explanation and he's quiet for the first hour of the flight. Eventually, he comes to terms with the reality of what happened and he kisses you on the cheek and takes your hand.

"I'm excited to be your husband." He smiles and rubs small circles on the back of your hand. It reminds you of the time you went to breakfast in 2007 and the whole history of your relationship hits you like a ton of bricks. You haven't been together consistently, but you've been a part of each others' lives for almost ten years. And now you'll be together until the end. You sniffle and a single tear slides down your cheek.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He kisses the back of your hand.

"Nothing. I'm just so happy. I love you so much."

"I love you too, hon." The plane starts its descent and your heart flip flops with excitement that you'll be married to Elvis soon.

******

Your wedding is exactly what you'd expect from a Vegas chapel, but you're so in love that you don't care. All you see is each other.

That night, you get the honeymoon suite at a casino hotel and drink champagne and make love as many times as you can before you pass out in each other's arms. Overall, the whole experience will live forever in both of your memories as one of the best nights of your life.

The next day, you're laying on the couch in your suite enjoying room service and watching tv. You go to the bathroom and he flips the station to an entertainment news show. When you come back, he's absolutely enthralled and you look at the tv to see what it is.

It's Lisa Marie.

She's recently announced that she's getting a divorce, so she popped up in entertainment media again. You grab the remote and turn the tv off as fast as you can. Luckily, you catch it before they say too much.

"Who was that?"

"Who?"

"That woman. You know what I'm talking about. Her name is Presley. Who is she, y/n?"

"She's... she's your daughter." You know what her existence means for you. Your heart shatters into a thousand pieces and you wish more than anything that he hadn't seen her on tv.

"My daughter? How?"

"Elvis, you know how." He looks down at the floor and takes a deep breath. You slide onto the floor in front of him and put your hands on his knees. He looks into your eyes and you both start to cry.

"I have to leave."

"Please don't! God, Elvis, please don't leave me here without you." He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"I have to. I'm her father. I have to be her father."

"No! Elvis, please!" You know you're begging now as the tears run down your cheeks.

"I have to go now."

"Now?! Why now?"

"If I don't go now, I won't go." You grab his hand and put it on your cheek.

"Then don't." He stands up and walks away from you.

"Damnit, y/n, please don't make this harder than it already is!" He picks up the tv remote and throws it against the wall as hard as he can. "Goddamnit!"

You sit on the carpet weeping and rocking back and forth. He looks at you on the floor, his tortured heart evident on his face. He walks over to you and scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the bed and holds you as you cry for an indeterminate amount of time.

When you finally calm down, he kisses your face down to your mouth. You pull away from him.

"You just want to make a portal."

He grabs your chin and makes you look into his eyes.

"Yes, I need a portal. But more than that, I want to make love to my wife. Because that's who you are. And I don't care who I marry that's that girl's mother. You are my wife and you always will be. In my heart, I am yours. Forever, honey. Forever." He kisses you again and you submit to him fully, letting him undress you as lovingly as possible. You hold him close to your body and kiss as much of his skin as you can reach. He pushes into you slowly and gently makes love to you with his head on your shoulder. By the end of it, you're both crying. He tries to push off his orgasm as long as possible, but eventually he has to give in. Both of your shoulders shake with sobs and you hold each other as close as you can for what you're pretty sure are your last moments together. The portal appears like it always does and he drags himself away from you to get dressed. Once he has all his clothes on, he grabs you and holds you so tightly it almost hurts. He whispers in your ear.

"Never forget that I belong to you, always. Know that for the rest of my life, I will love you and I will miss you." He presses his forehead to yours and kisses your lips one last time. "You are and always will be the love of my life. Goodbye, honey. I love you."

He walks away from you towards the portal, not letting go of your hand until the last possible second. He looks back at you one last time and then goes through the portal. You fall to the floor and sob out loud. When the portal disappears, you scream, "No!"

He's really gone. And now that he knows about Lisa, he's never coming back.

******

Three weeks later, you're back home. You sit in your bathroom and laugh hysterically. It's all you can do to keep from breaking down completely. You look down at it in your hand again.

It's positive.

You don't know how, but it is.

Somehow, you're pregnant with the child of Elvis Presley.

******

Come back for Chapter 11 soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Layla”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

MASTERLIST

When I surprised him with my new look, he was taken aback at first then a huge smile appeared on his face, even his eyes glimmered.

“Look at ya! You look like a little doll.” Austin said to me as one of fingers played with a piece of my hair. “It makes your eyes stand out more.” He then grabbed my chin firmly. “I like you brunette and with less makeup. This is what I like.”

Bullshit. All he said was bullshit. If he liked me so much when I looked like this then why did he go after Lily-Rose’s tail. Why did he take her out for dinner? Why did he make out with her afterwards? Was I ever going to be enough for him? Because he hadn’t touch me since we were in Australia. And whenever he did, it was loveless.

I confronted him about what happened with Lily, we were having breakfast and I had seen the photos ENews published of Austin and Lily making out after having dinner together.

“Baby, it ain’t nothing, it’s just publicity.” He tried to defend himself, I only glared at him.

“Don’t call me baby.” I spat out harshly, I don’t know why but knowing that he probably called Lily ‘baby’ made me gag. As it had happened with Olivia.

“It’s PR an-” I interrupted him, standing up from the my chair.

“What’s going on?! Why doesn’t she go back to France where she belongs?” I yelled at him as I hit the table with my hands.

I couldn’t really read his face, he was in between being mad and taken aback. Of course he also stood up and grabbed my shoulder, tugging me a little.

“Listen to me. Cynthia. I need a woman who understands that things like this might happen. Are you gonna be her or not? He asked, looking down on me as if I were an spoiled child getting reprimanded.

“Okay.” Was all I said as I left the dining room.

—————————

After the incident happening, Austin started to be loving all over again, he had invited to have dinner with him and some castmates. I decided to accept after he begged me for days, I was still mad at him but I decided that maybe this could help us get closer.

I dressed up, monochrome clothing, black pants, cute pink top, I styled my hair and we were on our way to the restaurant. It was a sushi place, it had private karaoke and everything. I recognized some of them, Barry Keoghan and his girlfriend, Callum Turner, Anthony Boyle and others.

It was a nice dinner and food was delicious, although my mind was somewhere else, I was worried because I had left Lori back home with the nanny.

“Don’t worry too much, she’s being well taken care of.” Austin squeezed my hand. I simply hummed and nodded.

Feeling someone’s stare, I looked in front of me and there surely was Callum’s gaze lingering my face down my neck. His eyes went back to my face and he quickly snapped out of his trance, smiling at me and then looking at me. Weird, I thought, but it was the first time in months that a man ever looked at me like that. He didn’t talk to me much, but he surely did talk to the wives and girlfriends of his castmates. But he did look at me a lot, his foot touching mine from underneath the table.

Austin had always been charismatic but he was very, very shy so a karaoke was like social suicide to him. But Callum— he was another story. After a few sips of some Asian liquor, he was sure to go next on the karaoke.

“You should sing an Elvis song, Aus.” I whispered to Austin, trying to cheer him because it was truly getting boring.

“No, Cyn— I’ll just embarrass myself.” Austin denied it, he stayed at the booth and I rolled my eyes, I saw Barry’s girlfriend and a producer’s wife laughing with everyone as Barry and the producer sang ‘Heart of Glass’ without hitting a single note.

Laughing but at the same time feeling like I wasn’t enjoying this as I should, Callum made his way to me swiftly. Clearing his throat and sitting on the booth.

“Should I sing?” Callum spoke to me with his amazing voice and British accent, catching my attention.

“If you want to.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’ll sing one for ya. You’ll see, cause now— your man is as boring as a math class.” I chuckled and thought he was just joking. But then he got up and grabbed the mic, quickly searching for the song. As the instrumental started to play— I recognized that guitar riff everywhere. ‘Layla’.

As not everyone knows, the song was written by Eric Clapton, confessing his love to George Harrison’s wife, Pattie Boyd. I thought he must be just trying to lead me on, everyone cheered for Callum and his god-awful singing. Maybe it was to play it off but he started to jokingly point at whatever girl was taken. Everyone took it as a joke, even Austin. But towards me, he was a bit more serious.

‘I tried to give you consolation from when your old man let you down.’

‘Like a fool, I fell in love with you. You turned my whole world upside down.’

‘Layla, you’ve got me on my knees. I’m begging darling, please.’

He sang it directly to me, he tried to be playful and everything, but I knew he was serious. I just chuckled and tried to play it off. Was it so wrong that I wanted to tear his clothes off even if my husband was besides me? I could say the same things Austin said: ‘I’m a woman, I have needs, it’s in my dna.’

When the guys went to pay, I saw Callum grabbing his jacket, I got closer to him.

“What was that?” I asked, wanting an explanation.

“What, sweetheart?” He asked, acting oblivious, seeing my annoyed face, he chuckled. “It’s just a song, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby, I’m not your baby.” I said as I rolled my eyes.

“Come on. I could’ve sang you an Spectrum song. What about ‘How you satisfy me’?” He looked around a little before starting to pretend to have a microphone on his hand. “Honey, your love is what I need…”

“It’s not funny.” I protested in annoyance, Callum looked at the guys paying, he then smirked and looked back at me.

“You know what’s funny? That you didn’t shut me off when I was staring at you, you liked it.” Callum whispered on a teasing manner.

“I’m a married woman, for your information.” I showed my wedding ring.

“That hasn’t stopped me before and it won’t stop me now. Austin doesn’t act like the married man either.”

That was like a stab in my heart, it was humiliating that everyone else knew he was unfaithful, he immediately dropped his smirk.

“I’m sorry— I just like you a lot.” I nodded at Callum, he was beautiful but, he wasn’t what I liked.

Callum just pressed his lips together, he was going to walk off but he stopped to say something.

“If you ever feel, lonely or abandoned. Just call me.” Callum said before he waved at all of us and walked out of the restaurant.

Austin and I went back home, I tried wearing black negligee, hoping he’ll touch me again. It didn’t work, he pushed me off.

“I’m not in the mood, honey. Let’s just sleep.”

Frustrated, I tucked myself under the covers and tried to fall asleep. I knew he was turned on— he was. He just didn’t want to touch me. My days were getting boring, I wished I had something to film, some script sent to me, anything. Everyday I woke up with the hope of getting a text or an email with a new script.

—————————

I thought of Callum’s proposition everyday, I was indeed very lonely. My mind went on and on about his words: ‘If you ever feel, lonely or abandoned. Just call me’

I ended up calling him, just a night out as friends, yeah, friends with capital F. I got ready, I wore a black short skirt and a nice little cardigan. I decided to wear my now light-brown hair on a side ponytail and I styled out my bangs. And surely, Callum and I met at the movies.

We were watching a foolish movie. I was barely even looking at the movie, I was looking at him the whole time and he knew it because I saw that stupid little smirk of his. Swiftly, he placed his hand on my knee, making me smile and look away shyly, like a teenager. After the movie, we got into his car— nervous to do anything wrong, I was very quiet.

“So, you’re lonely all the time?” Callum asked, breaking the silence. I stayed silent, looking out the window. “Tell me, you know it’s just your foolish pride.”

“I stay back home. I’m waiting for a good script to come to me.”

“So what do you even do? You’re lonely and no man is waiting by your side. You seem like the perfect target for a man like me.” Callum joked, I laughed too.

I felt at ease with him, we had a lot of fun even while driving around London. He parked in front of my house, I was in silence. He leaned in and kissed me, not aggressively but romantically, I liked the kiss so I continued it. I never thought I’d make love on the back of a car, afterwards I felt really regretful of it, I was just like Austin now— I had been unfaithful.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He asked after we had gotten dressed again. He caressed my cheek.

“I shouldn’t have done this.” I said in regret, but he just smiled.

“Hell yeah you should have done so. Time for him to get a taste of him own medicine.” Callum said, I had a mental argument with myself.

Should I keep this going or not? I was a woman with needs and wishes of being desired by my husband but he always decided to turn around and go with other women.

“When do we see each other again?” I asked him, if I was going to cheat, might as well enjoy so.

—————————

My relationship with Callum developed into an affair, very passionate affair. While Austin was away having his fun around London and on set hanging out with Callum, we both texted each other behind his back.

Callum reminded me a lot of myself actually, I had told him one time that I liked blonde-haired men and the next day he texted me telling me that he was at a hairdressers appointment, he surprised me with a selfie of him full on blonde, which he already was naturally. He was scolded by producers. I also told him I liked trench coats and men wearing black slacks, next Sunday night, he’s wearing all of that. I was starting to be as demanding as Austin— and I hated it. What if he was feeling pressured or if he started to feel like I felt?

“It’s boring being the same everyday, sweetheart.” Callum chuckled with me, caressing my cheek softly.

“I don’t want you changing yourself.” I said, a bit sternly. “But blonde does bring out your face more, it makes your eyes stand out more.”

I sounded just like Austin. Just like him. Callum and I spent that night together too, but we were surprised when Austin came home earlier. My acting career prepared me all my life for this, Callum was surprisingly smooth, as he pretended to be coming out of the bathroom fixing his shirt while I quickly made the bed and fixed my smeared lipstick.

“What is he doing here?” Austin asked suspiciously.

“He came over, he said he wanted to see Lori and he thought you were here.” I said confidently as Callum nodded from the couch where he was watching Lori play.

“I thought you were here, mate. Sorry bout that.” Callum said, playing innocent for most part. Austin just nodded and took off his coat, placing it on the rack, he bent down to pick up Lori and placed a kiss on her cheek. He walked up to me and he wiped some runny eyeliner. It had smeared on the corner of my eye because of Callum and I having out little get-together in bed.

“Your makeup is all smeared.” He said, his touch being anything but gentle. He then grabbed me by the waist and pulled me closer, he was jealous. Jealous because Callum was there.

“I know— the weather is wet. It makes my eyeliner smear.” I said, I used waterproof eyeliner.

We had dinner together all night, all of us, it was rather uncomfortable. Austin was really jealous.

“You like my wife?” Austin tried to be playful while hiding his jealousy.

“I’d snatch her and Lori at any minute.” Callum answered back jokingly. “I’m kidding but y’all are beautiful family.”

Callum said all while looking at me, I wanted to kill him right there. I just nodded and smiled. And you know what? For the first time in so long— I felt alive.

[luthsthings]

Sims 4 x 10 Years!

Ten years ago today, I booked the day off on my work schedule and played a lot of Sims 4.

I'd been a Simmer since 2000, after one of my kids asked for the game because they'd seen it at a friend's house. I played The Sims, and then Sims 2, and then Sims 3. Sims 3 and my computer didn't get on too well, and I fought it a lot, wanting to play rotationally as a micromanager! When the Sims 4 trailers started coming out, I felt like they'd finally made a version of the game that was really for me, as a micromanaging rotational player who doesn't want to restart for new packs and new worlds, and who likes some quirk and exaggeration.  

So on September 2, 2014, I installed Sims 4. (I'd preordered, of course!) I downloaded trailer Sims from the Gallery (I still have a soft spot for Amber -- in one of my saves, back around 2015, she married Elvis Presley). I giggled at Sims sticking their fingers in their ear while they cooked. I got annoyed by the push-ups. I completely failed at making a roof. A Sim read a book while on the toilet and I was delighted. I took my Willow Creek Sim to visit the bar in Oasis Springs and enjoyed the view there (I like the dinos).

I made a self-Sim and spent lots of time tweaking her face till my husband came into the room, glanced at my monitor, and said, "Hey, that's actually you!" She's still my self-Sim (over on my avatar there). I just update her look now and then as I update my own.

I had a lot of fun, and I found myself using Sims as a new creative outlet in ways I hadn't so much before. I felt creative.

Eventually I confessed to my daughter that I'd actually played with my self-Sim. Here she is as a scientist back in 2015. Once upon a time, in an earlier version of the game, we -- me and my kids -- were playing with "us" in game and I died in a model rocket accident. This was traumatic and I was not supposed to play with "us" anymore. This time I did not die.

And here I am still playing! (But my hair went white.) I've had three-day saves and seven-year saves (RIP that save!). I've played every pack, but there are still base game things I haven't done! Sometimes I get really caught up in too much micromanaging with the game (townies really do often need fixing), then a new pack comes out and I try new things and it's a lot of fun again. It makes me laugh.

I've also made new friends in Sims communities and helped lots of Simmers keep playing the game. I started doing that back in 2014. A lot of the Sims community back then was focusing on what was bad about Sims 4. I was having fun with it, though, and enjoyed helping other people on the Forums who just wanted to do that.

That just kind of... morphed. It turned into some Forums posts gathering scattered info about upcoming packs from the various places SimGurus were saying things (I stopped doing those a couple of years ago -- there are websites gathering that info now, and a lot less places it turns up too). It turned into threads gathering info about mods that got broken in big game patches... and that was way back in 2015! I'm delighted that it turned into a whole thing in the community, with different places providing the info different ways. Getting to know the modding community after starting that has been a lot of fun. I even brushed off my old programming knowledge from high school and took over some mods from a modder I'd gotten to know well. I do like the lack of punch cards in modern programming!

I'm also super thankful to EA and Maxis for inviting me some years ago to be a Game Changer (the program that morphed into the EA Creator Network). I love the connections I have with other creators and storytellers and support people in the EACN, even if I feel really tiny next to the big names with their thousands and thousands of followers (but a quick thank you to my little group of Patrons! I appreciate you a ton!). I am also very appreciative of the gifted packs from EA that I receive as part of the EACN. They've helped make it a little bit easier to volunteer my time to supporting other Simmers, even if I do now have to put disclaimers on gameplay content I post, which sometimes feels a bit silly.

tldr: Happy 10th Birthday, Sims 4! I hope it's a fabulous one.

And now I'm going to grab some lunch, do some chores, then dive back into my current save. Cassandra has two love interests to consider, and that jewel is charging up. Plus she really needs a cat. And some actual income. And some improvements in her spellcasting (my previous save's Cassandra was a Mermaid). And that's not to start on Alexander building some skills before he heads off to uni for Robotics...

Psst... 

Don't forget to mark on your calendar the next anniversary. The Sims franchise will be 25 on February 4, 2025! 

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of an affair

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 20

In my diary entry dated April 5, I wrote, “The baby’s getting more beautiful as each day goes by. Dr. Turman said she’s healthy and progressing well. Matt went with me to the pediatrician, waiting outside in the car. He also accompanied me to the obstetrician. He’s insisting I keep up with my regular checkups taking care of both of us like a doting father.

“But I’ve been lonely for him since the baby’s birth; he is still withdrawn. It’s been two months and he still hasn’t touched me. I’m getting concerned.”

The following day, I wrote, “I asked Matt if anything was wrong, if he’s lost his desire for me. I saw this made him a little uncomfortable. He told me he wants to make sure my system’s back to normal—that he doesn’t want to hurt me. That made me feel a little better.

“We brought Charlotte to our room, put her in the middle of the bed with us. She’s such a good baby—we can’t believe she’s ours.”

Matt and I started getting back into our regular routine. Since the baby was born, we were spending more time at Graceland, eventually moving all the horses back to the original stables, James selling much of the equipment and, later, the Circle G itself.

Matt accepted fatherhood with a great deal of joy, but the fact that I was a mother had a disquieting effect on him. I didn’t understand at the time, but later on I would learn more about men who are very close to their own mothers. I am no purveyor of Freudian theory. I believe when a man comes into the world, his first unconditional love is his mother. She cuddles him, gives him warmth, the breast for nourishment, and everything he needs to exist. None of those feelings has a sexual connotation. Later, when his own wife becomes a mother, this bank of memories is ripped open and his passion may dissipate.

When Matt’s mother was alive they had been unusually close. Matt even told her about his amatory adventures, and many nights when she was ill, he would sleep in her room with her. All the girls he took out seriously had to fulfill Mary Lou’s requirements of the ideal woman. And as with me, Matt then put the girl on a pedestal, “saving her” until the time was sacred and right. He had his wild times, his flings, but any girl he came home to he had to respect.

Now I was a mother and he was uncertain how to treat me. He had mentioned before we were married that he had never been able to make love to a woman who’d had a child. But throughout my pregnancy—until the last six weeks—we had made love passionately. He’d been very careful each time, afraid that he might hurt the baby or me, but he was always loving and sensitive to my needs. Now months had passed.

On April 20 I wrote in my diary: “I embarrassed myself last night. I wore a black negligee, laid as close to Matt as I could while he read. I guess it was because, I knew what I wanted and was making it obvious. I kissed his hand, then each finger, then his neck and face. But I waited too long. His sleeping pills had taken effect. Another lonely night.”

Finally, months later Matt made love to me. Before we made love, he told me I was a young mother now, that being the mother of his child is very special. But I wrote in my diary, “I am beginning to doubt my own sexuality as a woman. My physical and emotional needs were unfulfilled.”

We returned to Los Angeles, where Matt was filming Live a Little, Love a Little. He started getting into his old habits again. Frustrated, I started searching for dance classes to enroll in. I looked through the local Yellow Pages until one class caught my attention, a school for jazz and ballet not far from home.

The studio was small and unpretentious; the owner, Mark, was an extremely attractive and dynamic man of forty-five. He was an excellent dancer and a fine teacher, and by the time I left that afternoon, I had enrolled for private lessons.

Still too shy to dance in front of a group, I wanted to wait until I was sure I could keep up with the other dancers before taking a class. I began taking private lessons three times a week. Mark’s personal interest and attention were flattering, and I was soon doing lifts and jumps, things I’d never thought I could accomplish.

He said I had the potential to be a good dancer, and he pushed me to the limit. Out of frustration and pain I would want to quit. Demanding that I continue, he told me I was building character and forced me to repeat the same routine until it was nearly perfected. This made me realize that I could go further than I’d ever dreamed.

He believed in me, and I was accomplishing something. For the first time I was creating, feeling good about myself, and I couldn’t wait to get to class each day.

Mark was charismatic and I was particularly vulnerable. In lieu of a passionate marriage, dance was becoming my life; I was obsessed with it, taking all my frustrations and feelings into the studio. I found myself thinking about Mark even when I was home. I had only seen him a few times in my life and yet I was unable to get him out of my mind. I rationalized, telling myself it was because he was always there for me. He seemed to understand me, while the man I truly loved was involved in his own world. I began to relax, enjoying myself almost against my will. It had been a while since I’d spent some time with a man who validated my abilities and appreciated spending time with me alone. It was also the first time I was not competing for my own identity. This was a high I had not experienced recently. I had a brief affair and decided to end it.

I came out of it realizing I needed much more out of my relationship with Matt. Matt and I decided to get away to Hawaii.

This was the first time we’d gone on holiday, and I was hoping that it would be a second honeymoon, that my experience with Mark would be forgotten. We took along Charlotte, her nurse, Nate, Amber, Patsy and her husband, Gee Gee, Steven and his wife Nora, and Charlie. We checked into the Ilikai Hotel on Waikiki, but soon found that Matt couldn’t go to the beach without attracting a crowd. We decided to rent a house on a private beach and spent the rest of our vacation there.

We had a great time, and Matt and I were like two kids again, away from the pressures and the filming—and away from Mark, to whom my attention would occasionally wander.

It was there that we met Tom Jones, and Matt became very fond of him. He had always enjoyed Tom’s vocal style, especially in “Green, Green Grass of Home,” which Matt had first heard while traveling from L.A. to Boston. He’d called me when they’d stopped in Arizona, encouraging me to get the record.

Tom Jones and Matt enjoyed an instant rapport. After an appearance at the Ilikai, Tom invited us to his suite, along with our group. Within minutes the champagne exploded and the party was on. We laughed, drank, joked, drank some more (lots more), jammed—and reeled back to the Ilikai at dawn. Matt had had such a good time he personally invited Tom and his group to join us the next day at our beach house. A friendship was born, a friendship of mutual respect and admiration.

One of Matt’s outstanding attributes was his conviction that there was room for anyone with talent in the entertainment field. In my experience, only a few stars are this generous. Greed, insecurity, jealousy, ego usually keep celebrities from supporting one another.

Matt could spot talent instantly. In Las Vegas, we regularly took in lounge acts featuring various up-and-coming artists, and if Matt liked the show, he patronized the club, encouraging the entertainers to pursue their careers, infusing them with confidence and enthusiasm.

Some of his favorites were Ike and Tina Turner, Gary Puckett and the Union Gap, dancers Tybe and Bracia, and old-timers Fats Domino and the Ink Spots, all talented people deserving acknowledgment in their craft.

One night we visited Barbra Streisand backstage at the International Hotel, now the Hilton. It was a classic Streisand performance and Matt, after a few too many Bloody Marys, wanted to tell Barbra his impressions. We were ushered backstage to her dressing room and Matt’s first words upon meeting her were: “What did you ever see in Elliott Gould? I never could stand him.”

In typical Streisandese she retorted, “Whaddya mean? He’s the fah-tha of my child!”—leaving Matt speechless.

Matt had some other very special favorites—Arthur Prysock, John Gary, opera star Robert Merrill, Brook Benton, Roy Orbison, and Charles Boyer’s recording “Where Has Love Gone?”

He couldn’t abide singers who were, in his words, “all technique and no emotional feeling” and in this category he firmly placed Mel Torme and Robert Goulet. They were both responsible for two television sets being blown away with a.357 Magnum.

Matt’s five-year contract with MGM was up in 1968 and he was finally free to move on to new challenges. Even Colonel admitted that Matt’s career needed a shot in the arm. NBC made him an offer to do his own television special, with newcomer Steve Binder directing. There was no initial format, but the idea was tempting and the money was right. The fact that there was no script—that it was an “open development”—made Colonel hesitant to agree. Colonel demanded more control than that, but Matt wanted to meet Steve, make sure that they could get along, speak the same language.

It had been years since Matt had appeared on TV and he was nervous. To his surprise, Steve was much younger than he had anticipated, extremely perceptive, and soft-spoken, a startling contrast to the studio heads he’d worked with, men much older, with hardened, preconceived opinions on how Matt should be packaged and sold. For the first time in years he felt creative. Steve Binder gained Matt’s trust and had the sensitivity to let Matt just be Matt. Steve observed, took mental notes, learned Matt’s ways, discovered what made his star comfortable and what got him uptight.

During their meetings Steve sensed Matt’s fear that he hadn’t been before a live audience in years but he noticed that Matt came alive backstage in the dressing room jamming with the musicians.

Each day he grew more confident and excited about his new project, taking pride once again in his appearance, watching his weight, following his diet, and working closely with the show’s costume designer, Bill Belew, creating a look we hadn’t seen him sport in years—the black leather suit.

I was surprised when he said, “Sattnin, I feel a little silly in that outfit. You think it’s okay?”

Matt knew this special was a big step in his career. He could not fail. For two straight months he worked harder than on all his movies combined. It was the most important event in his life.

During this time I was discovering whole new worlds of music—Segovia; Blood, Sweat and Tears; Tchaikovsky; Santana; Mason Williams; Ravel; Sergio Mendes; Herb Alpert—and I was anxious to share my new enthusiasms, music and dance, with my husband. I wanted to bring energy to our relationship in the hope of strengthening our marriage. Discussions at the dinner table now included Leonard Bernstein and Carlos Montoya, but they held no appeal for Matt; the TV special was consuming all his thoughts.

He was away much of the time, and when we did see each other our level of communication was strictly superficial. Each absorbed in our own separate pursuits, we had little in common except our daughter. My approach with him was delicate: I was aware of the distance growing between us. But because of his preoccupation with the special, I realized that the last thing he needed from me was a statement that I feared we were drifting apart.

In his absence, I was taking care of Charlotte in addition to attending dance classes in the morning, ballet in the early evening, and two jazz classes at night, lasting often until one in the morning. I was now studying with a new dance instructor, who was using me to give demonstrations for the evening classes. Many of the students were professional dancers. I had diligently worked my way into the company, rehearsing four hours every day to master new steps, constantly pushing myself to new limits, and eventually I was to take a place in the dance company, anonymously performing shows on weekends at colleges in the L.A. area.

Matt’s Singer TV special was a huge success, the highest-rated special of the year, and his finale, “If I Can Dream,” was his first million-sell-ing record in years. We sat around the TV watching the show, nervously anticipating the response. Matt was quiet and tense through the whole program, but as soon as the calls started, we all knew he had a new triumph. He hadn’t lost his touch. He was still the King of Rock and Roll.

It was a blessing for both of us. The hours I devoted to dance released him from the strain of my dependence. My new interest didn’t pose a threat in the sense that taking up a profession would have. I was still there to tend to his needs, as he wanted his wife to be, while also creating my own world, no longer intimidated by the magnitude of his. I was growing, learning, and expanding as an individual.

This new freedom nearly came to an abrupt end when a newcomer to the clan decided to take it upon himself to investigate my comings and goings. He reported to Matt that I was seen coming out of a dance studio at a late hour and did Matt want him to carry it any further. Matt’s unpredictability in dealing with certain crises in life could be astounding.

Logically, such a volatile man would explode. Instead, he made no accusations. His only comment was, “Little One, there are some people who are insinuating you’ve been seen coming out of a dance studio at late hours.”

“It’s true. You know I’m part of the company. It’s not just me leaving. That’s the time we break.”

I pleaded with him to tell me who was starting trouble. All he would say was, “Let’s put it this way: He’s new and he’s treading on dangerous ground. If he knows what’s good for him, he better keep the fuck to his own business.”

After the success of his special, Matt devoted several weeks to a recording session, and again he was highly motivated. For the first time in fourteen years, he’d been persuaded to record in Memphis, at the American Sound Studios, a black company where major artists, including Aretha Franklin, had recorded their most recent hits. The studio musicians were young and Matt had a great rapport with them. More importantly, he made great music with them.

He’d be at the studio singing until the early-morning hours and then return the next evening, full of energy and ready to start again. His voice was in top form and his excitement was infectious. Each cut was more terrific than the one before. We’d listen to the songs over and over, Matt yelling, “All right, listen to that sound,” or “Goddamn, play it again.”

Colonel stayed away from this session. Matt was the artist, and he was on a roll. He ended up recording so many songs, it took RCA a year and a half to release them all, including hits like “In the Ghetto,” “Kentucky Rain,” and “Suspicious Minds.”

Watching Matt sing with confidence again, honing each word in his own style, filled us all with pride. What a contrast to sessions in the past that had been filled with anger, frustration, and disappointment, resulting in late arrivals or, on occasion, no-shows.

At one point he looked over at me, smiled, then casually started singing “From a Jack to a King.” He knew it was a favorite of mine. Later he sang “Do You Know Who I Am?” As I listened to the words, I couldn’t help but relate to them.

After four years of lackluster songs, he was back on the charts again, and RCA could no longer complain about him. They’d been threatening the Colonel that if Matt didn’t have a recording session soon, they were going to rerelease some of his old songs.

One success led to another. Since his TV special, he was eager to begin performing in front of a live audience again, to prove to everyone that he hadn’t lost his touch. Looking for the best source of immediate income, the Colonel made a deal with the nearly completed Las Vegas International for Matt to headline there for a month, at a salary of half a million dollars.

Vegas was the challenge he needed to demonstrate that he could still captivate a live audience. This was what he loved most and did best. But it was a major challenge.

He hadn’t made any real demands on his voice in years and now was locked into two shows a night for twenty-eight days straight. Anxious, he wondered whether he was up to the strain, whether he’d draw sellout crowds, whether he would be able to hold an audience for a full two hours. He wanted this new act to be accepted, feeling he now had more than his rock-and-roll gyrations to offer.

Not only was this a crucial time in his career, but there was the additional pressure of the unprecedented fee and the fact that Las Vegas was the only city where he’d bombed, thirteen years earlier, in 1956.

He wasn’t the kind of person who’d come out and say, “I’m scared.” Instead I’d see it in his actions, his left leg shaking, and his foot tapping. He held in his fears and emotions until at times he would explode, tearing into anyone who happened to be around. At dinner one evening Matt said that he was concerned about his hairstyle, and I mentioned I’d seen a billboard of Ricky Nelson on Sunset Boulevard. His hair was long with a slight wave, and I thought it was extremely appealing. I innocently suggested that Matt take a look at it. “Are you goddamn crazy?” he shouted. “After all these years, Ricky Nelson, Fabian, that whole group have more or less followed in my footsteps, and now I’m supposed to copy them? You’ve gotta be out of your mind, woman.”

He left the dinner table in a rage. He had always been hailed as an original and now he was afraid that in Vegas even that wouldn’t be enough. I knew I had injured his ego and for that I apologized.

In preparing his show for the International, Matt pulled out all the stops. He was in top form—on a natural high quite independent of pills. He was more trim and physically fit than he’d ever been.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - these next few chapters will be a little slower paced sorry!!🎀

[claire-elvisgirl]

MY LITTLE FRIEND 2/3

Summary: Elvis is your daddy’s best friend. He’s been around your family since you were a little girl, you practically grew up together never minding the age gap between you two. He starts to feel something for you. Is he ready to let his feeling go and ruin a long-life friendship?

Warnings: +18, age gap (f 20/m 33), sex sex sex, cuming, fingering

Word count: 1560

After a week Elvis got back to your house with the intention of seeing you again, but he obviously didn’t want your dad to know. So he sneaked in through the back door and looked for you. He came into your room and he saw you sitting on your bed reading one of your favourite books.

“Hey, sweet lips, ya missed me?” You jumped up and tried to scream, but Elvis covered your mouth with his hand. “Shhh!!! Don’t get me wrong y/n. I just wanted to see my favorite little angel again. Did ya like what uncle Elvis did to ya last time?” he asked removing his hand from your mouth.

“How did you get in here? What do you want?” you whispered.

“Y/n, I mean, how could ya forget about that? Ya know ya loved it! Ya wouldn't want to disappoint me now, would ya?”

You felt yourself giving in again. The memory of that day was coming back to you and you realized your body was reacting to his words. Elvis stood in front the door, preventing you from escape.

“Oh, don't ya worry that pretty little head of yours. I’l be gentle this time. In fact, I came here to apologise for what I did. It wasn’t right at all and I’m really sorry. I promise I'll be the perfect gentleman from now on, ya just wait and see. There's only one thing I ask of ya, y/n: let me take care of ya. Let me be your new daddy and I promise that your old man will never find out. Just be a good girl and do as I tell ya, okay, y/n?”

You tried to get away nervously: “Don’t touch me!”

“Oh honey, look how cute ya are! Ya know, I really don't want to hurt ya because you’re too pretty and sweet. You're like a little angel sent here just to take care of my needs. Ya know, I thought about ya all the time. Let's have some fun together. Otherwise uncle Elvis will have to give his little angel a nice spanking for being disobedient! And who knows? Ya might even like it…”

“Elvis listen...the last time we met, everything was a mistake, it was not right!”

“Maybe it wasn’t the right way, but…a mistake? Are ya serious? You're just playing a little hard to get, y/n. That's all. And don't ya worry, I know how to make ya change your mind, my sweet angel.”

Elvis grabbed you, push you on your bed and climb on top of you. “I think my little angel forgot something...don't make me get nasty with ya, because ya know the consequences of disobeying me! I don’t wanna hurt ya…I’m serious!”

You start to get scared but you can't do anything because you’re trapped under Elvis’ weight: “Give it up, y/n, give it up. Your new daddy needs ya. That's it...that's it...let it go...let yourself go...let go of everything and you'll remember how good it feels. Remember y/n, you're mine! Ya belong to Elvis now.”

“Elvis please don't...don’t stop!” you couldn’t help yourself anymore and you let Elvis do whatever he wanted. You started to lose yourself and you started to enjoy what he was doing, while your body reacted to his touch. Finally you offered him your lips and kissed him back while he went from calm and composed, to passionate and lusty. He got even more passionate while slowly removing your shirt and your bra. You felt helpless, but you were giving up completely to his control. You were accepting it…and you liked it.

He kissed you again, just like he did before, and you slowly gave in to him. You felt his lips on your body and you liked it more and more. You moaned with pleasure as Elvis took off your pants and touched your thighs. “That’s it, ya gonna need to learn how to let go baby. Because I'm not going to let ya up until you release all that tension building up inside of ya!” He kissed you again, his tongue pressing deeper into your mouth. Then he moved back down and took off your panties.

“Elvis wait!” you stopped him scared. “I have to tell you something!”

“What is it honey?” he asked looking right in your eyes.

“You would be the first one…I mean, I never…”

Elvis looked at you, surprised but pleased: “Y/n...ya mean this your first time!?”

You nodded and he smiled caressing your hair. “Well, in that case, we need to make it a special one, don't we? I mean, ya wouldn't do this with just anyone, but…ya wanna do it with me?” he asked gently.

“Yes!” you whispered.

Elvis pulled you even closer to him and he kissed your neck. You were enjoying it even more and you were not even thinking about your father anymore. You were not worried about getting caught, because you were in a different world now, with Elvis. He got up from you and felt a rush of adrenaline as he undressed completely and he realized he was finally about to have you all for himself. He got on top of you again, ready to do what he was always meant to do, but he stopped. He chuckled and caressed your cheek as he kept kissing you deeply.

“Wait, I have something else in mind for ya.” He sat up straight and guided you so that you straddled his lap facing him. “There is no better way to get some relief than riding a big strong man like me. Now, spread those thighs for daddy, okay?”. He smiled widely as he saw your naked body before him. “Good girl. Daddy loves seeing ya like this!”

He slid one hand under your butt cheek while using the other to guide his cock to your entrance. “Are ya ready my little princess? It might hurt a bit, but don’t worry, I’ll make ya feel better soon!”

You sat on his cock, letting him inside of you. Your first time. You bit your lips in pain and pleasure. He grabs your hips and he began gently to move your body up and down, in and out. “There you go baby girl. That's it. Relax that pussy baby, you’re so tight, let daddy take care of ya.” He kissed your neck softly as he picked up the pace. “Does daddy’s cock feel good inside of ya baby?”

You tried to answer, but your voice broke in your throat as he pushed him deeper inside of you. “It feels amazing doesn't it sweetheart? You're doing great, just keep relaxing and enjoy yourself.” He kept kissing your neck passionately as he fucked you harder. “Tell me how much ya love being fucked by daddy. Tell me who owns ya. Who does this pussy belong too?”

You tried to catch air, while answering him: “Y-you, daddy...it’s all…yours!”

“That’s a girl, all mine...now I want ya to beg for more. Tell daddy how much ya want his cock!”

You looked at him: “Daddy give it all to me, I beg you, I want you to cum inside of me!”

He laughed: “My my y/n, you're such a good little slut, begging for daddy's cock like this. Well, let’s see what I can do for ya!” He moved faster, making you feel on the edge of your orgasm. “I’m cumin’ daddy…I’m…”

He suddenly stopped you: “Not yet little one, not until daddy says so. Keep your pussy nice and tight for me. I want to feel every inch of ya wrapped around my cock. Don't ya dare to cum y/n, not until daddy gives ya permission. Now hold onto me tight and don't move. Can ya feel my cock stretching out your little pussy? And now...here it comes!”

He kept moving faster and after a second, he released inside of you, flooding your tight little pussy with his hot, sticky cum. You could feel it pulsing inside of you, coating every inch of your insides. “God, that feels so good!!” He pulled out, leaving you empty. Then he pumped two fingers inside of you and hit your g-spot repeatedly, while circling your clit with his thumb. You grabbed yourself to his shoulders. “God...what are you doing? oh fuck...” You were overwhelmed, you never felt such a deep pleasure in your life.

“Good girl. Daddy wants to see ya cum so hard that ya can't walk straight after that.” He thrusted his fingers inside of you forcefully, hitting your g-spot over and over again. You felt like you're going to pass out from the pleasure. Suddenly your walls clenched around his fingers, as you reached your orgasm with a shout. He milked every drop of pleasure out of you. He smiled proudly as he removes his fingers from your pussy. His hand was covered in your juices. He brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them clean. “Good girl!”

***

[blainesebastian]

bookends

words: 4,008 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @livwholikestv) “reader as librarian/works at a bookshop and Austin comes in every day to do research about Elvis“  warnings: none notes: requests are currently open :) thanks for reading!  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted, @rairaielv,

You know that people probably find it silly you’ve decided that you want to work in a bookshop when the internet exists and Amazon and literally a hundred different reasons not to go into a place surrounded by shelves and the smell of paper. Those same people might say that libraries and bookstores are a dying breed—that there’s no reason to hold a book between your hands when you can download an audio version, or listen to a podcast, or buy a Kindle.

But in your opinion? Those people are idiots.

Not to be dramatic (kinda) but you were raised in book shops, cafes and libraries. Your mother was a constant reader before she passed, always had a book in her hands, always made sure you did too. You grew up between stacks upon stacks of books, physical ones, and your current apartment has a cityscape of novels, biographies, poetry, graphics, odds and ends and everything in between, fixed up on the floor of every room, read and need to read, all because your bookshelves are already overflowing.

To be frank, research with books is kinda a dying art form, or maybe you’re just talking to the wrong people. Your natural inclination when you’re looking things up is to find a book at work. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not anti-internet by any means, it’s just…there’s something about wandering through the stacks, finding the book you want or need, or sometimes it finds you, and flipping through pages between your fingers, dragging the pads across the lines, like you can somehow absorb information through osmosis.

Sometimes you feel like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail, working at this little corner bookstore called BookEnds near your apartment and across the street from this perfect café in which you can get one of the best cinnamon scones you’ve ever tasted. You’d defend this place with your heart and soul—it’s not much but it’s everything to you. And people who spend time in here, who find something to buy, see that it’s got so much to offer.

More often than not, people are just unwilling to give it that chance—which is their loss.

Picking up a small stack on the front desk, you run through the titles and from memory, can gather where they go in the aisles without looking anything up. You feel like you need another round of coffee—your cat decided last night was the night to join the opera, and it was consistent and annoying. Almost like being part of a sleep test, up nearly every other hour. Running a hand through your hair, you let out a slow breath. Put these back first, then a coffee I.V. Maybe the café will actually have the hazelnut syrup that they’ve been out of that you’ve been craving.

The door opens, a small ding sounding in the bookshop and you get one look at the guy walking in—gorgeous, toned, blondish hair in larger curls near his forehead. Making a face, you reach for your co-worker’s elbow and gently touch the tip of your nose in a ‘not it’ signal.

Cathy laughs, getting a good look at him. “Oh my god, seriously?”

“He probably wants this obscure book for his girlfriend and I don’t have time to wander around for him while he attempts to get it right.”

She lets out a soft laugh because what? And you can’t help but roll your eyes back at her, a twinge of a smile on your lips. Okay, maybe that was a little harsh—it’s the coffee deficiency.

“I’m coffee deprived, can you just…”

She sighs and pushes past you, leaning against the counter as she smiles over at the handsome guy. “Hi, welcome in. Can I help you find something?”

“Yeah, uh,” He pulls out a list. And honestly you appreciate the grind, but you can’t even begin to think about doing that. “I was wonderin’ if you had any of these on hand?”  

“Actually, you know what,” Cathy says as you round the counter with a stack of go-backs in your arms. “Y/N is pretty awesome at finding stuff like this.”

You stop in your tracks at the sound of your name, turning slowly to Cathy who’s grinning and wandering over with the guy’s list in hand. She trades you, taking the stack of books from your arms as she leans in—

“He’s cute.”

A soft laugh sounds in your throat, glancing over at the waiting customer and…okay, she’s got a point but, so? You’re still under the assumption that he’s here to somehow impress a girlfriend with this laundry list of books. Moving back around the counter, you lean against it to look at what he’s brought in and—

You raise your eyebrows because there’s ten books on this list, ten, and they clearly all fall to the same theme. Elvis: What happened?, Elvis & Me, Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley…

“You doin’ a book report?”

He hums with a small nod, lifting his hand up to rub the back of his neck, “Somethin’ like that.” And uh, okay, strange—but you can’t deny you’re slightly intrigued. Maybe the guy is just into learning rock history. He’s kinda got that charm to him, just slightly, bedroom eyes, natural charisma.

“You got a thing for Elvis?”

He glances up at you, blue eyes bright and amused even though you’re not sure you get the joke. He smiles then—handsome, it reaches right into your chest and squeezes, “Sure, doesn’t everyone?”

You let out a laugh and gaze through some of the other titles. Your half wondering why he’s come to such a hole-in-the-wall bookstore for these when he probably could have done some sort of mass ordering on Barnes & Noble or Amazon but then he begins to talk again,

“I saw on your website that you do rent before you buy—kinda like a library.”

You hum and nod, “Yeah, we give you a card and everything. I call it ‘the book club for undecided people’.”

He smirks and undoes one of the buttons on his jean jacket, loosening up, your eyes glancing at his fingers as he lingers near the counter. He’s got this simple yet attractive look which…it works for him, doesn’t always for most people. The black jean jacket brings out the lightness in his eyes and the blonde in his hair.

Clearing your throat to kinda reset your brain, you take a look at the list again and do a mental checklist. “Okay so…we’re out of two of these right now and I can only lend out five at a time.”

He raises his eyebrows and you can tell right away that he’s either impressed with your memory or that he doesn’t quite believe the inventory.

“You can recall what you got just by lookin’ at the list?”

You playfully tap your temple, “All up here.”

You’ve worked here for a long time, pretty much all through high school, college…in and outs of this place down to the very floorboards that creak when you walk on them. He then switches gears, running a hand through his hair,

“Only five?” Back to the book renting, “Thought libraries could do a lot more than that.” And you’re about to tell him that this isn’t a real library, pursing your lips to explain— “Any exceptions?”

You scoff out a small laugh because okay, no matter how easily handsome this man is, you slowly turn the sign around that’s next to you on the counter to face him. In red font, Five Books NO EXCEPTIONS.

“We got a low inventory because or Mr. Exceptions like yourself.”

He crinkles his nose, definitely not thrilled with this information but you’re not sure what else you can offer him. “I kinda wanted to just hole myself up in my apartment and read.”

Taking a moment to look at his face, you can tell that there might be something more to it than that but you can’t put your finger on it. “All of them at once?” Just a small joke at his expense, but at least he smiles.

You take a clipboard out from underneath the counter, putting a form on there for him to fill out for the book rental.

“Fill this out, I’ll grab your first five. Unless you have a preference?”

He shakes his head, taking a pen out of the cup near the register. You hum lightly, moving quickly towards the aisles that hold the books you need. There’s a combination of Elvis Presley books in Biographies, Music History, and then some shelf names personal to the bookstore, like: Heartthrob Tragedies and King Shit (which has such a wide variety it’s almost funny).

Bringing back five different books for him, you set them down on the counter as he finishes the signature on the bottom of the form and pushes the clipboard towards you. Picking it up, you grab a card and peel the sticker off the back that his a barcode number on it and paste it to the top of his form.

“Alright,” You smile, “You’re all set. Happy reading.”

He takes a look at the books, his list sticking out the top of one of them. “So I just come back when I’m ready to purchase or trade in?”

“Yep,” You glance down at the form, “Austin.” You smile a little, “We get to do this all over again.”

He laughs softly through his nose, picking up the stack, “Looking forward to it.”

Was that a joke? There was definitely a smirk attached and your eyes follow him as he leaves the bookstore, the little bell jingling to signal his departure. Humming, you look down at the clipboard and begin typing in his information into the computer so he’s registered.

Cathy comes back around the counter, letting out a sigh that’s far too early in the day for. Ugh, you still need that coffee. Okay, form first, then a very large caffeine remedy. She takes the form off the clipboard when you’re done with it and you notice her eyes nearly bulge out of her head.

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me?” She laughs, motioning towards the paper, “I knew he looked familiar. Couldn’t put my finger on it.”

You’re so confused, kinda just blinking at her until she finally explains.

Cathy shakes her head, pointing to the paper, “Austin Butler. You know—Once Upon a Time in Hollywood?, Carrie Diaries…” She grins, “Shannara Chronicles!”

“Okay, now you’re just saying words.” You chuckle, moving forward to touch the bottom of the paper. “You’re saying that was him?”

“Definitely.”

You chew on your lower lip as you take a look at the computer screen, the saved profile of Austin’s in the ‘undecided book club’ tab. What are the odds? And all before your morning coffee.

--

You kinda forget about it—Austin, the Elvis books, the fact that this actor has found this corner of the city bookstore to wander into to look for his novels. Definitely a choice, right? Whatever, he probably won’t even come back himself, have his agent or something drop off the books he thumbed through and call it a day.

Except, you’re scrolling on Instagram one night and you come across a photoshoot of Austin and one click ends up on another post, another share, another Instastory, into a black hole of YouTube interviews and…turns out, seems like Austin is a nice guy. What can you really know from watching a bunch of that stuff, you’re sure he’s different in front of a camera vs. talking to someone but…even candid interactions he has with fans of his seem completely genuine.

There’s this moment where you kinda second guess whether or not that was actually him in the bookstore.

Your mind wanders about a lot of things pertaining to Austin, keeping you awake and staring at the ceiling and the rain against the windowpane. Why all the books on Elvis? Genuine interest or some kind of…research for a new project? A film? Wouldn’t that be interesting. Maybe you’re jumping to conclusion but your mind whirs with possibilities.

And you definitely feel like a zombie when you head into work, even with coffee in hand.

Cathy just kinda snickers at you and says nothing, which is good, because the last thing you’d want to do is ruin this perfectly good cup of coffee by tossing it on her. You get into the groove of the work day, though, helping out customers that wander in, tourists, putting books away that were either returned, misplaced, or from new shipments.

You decide you’re going to put together a great new display in the front of the bookstore for murder mysteries, so that keeps you busy, barely hearing the bell go off until you feel someone come up beside you. You’re debating on labeling it—I got 99 problems but Ms. Scarlet in the Library with a candlestick ain’t one. Probably too long…but funny, right?

“Do you actually read any of these before you put them out in front like this?”

Your heart jolts right up into your throat as you recognize the timbre, stomach flip flopping in this embarrassing way because before you had no idea who Austin even was and now your body is acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Centering yourself, you turn a little to look at him, your eyes taking him in. He’s wearing a pair of blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt, leather jacket this time because of course he is. Looking far too handsome to just be browsing through books.

“Yes,�� You raise your eyebrows, “As many as I can—life gets in the way sometimes, you know.” He hums in agreement, picking up one of the books on display to read the back. You’re feeling antsy underneath your skin, “Buying any books today?”

“Elvis & Me,” He replies, putting the book down to give you his attention. “Really liked that one.”

You smile a little and…swear he’s beginning to sound like Elvis, just a little? Some of the inflections in his tone, the roughness around the edges. Or maybe you’re imagining things.

“Definitely a good one,” You agree, “Kinda sad though.”

“All are kinda sad.” Austin adds and you suppose you can’t disagree with that.

You walk to the counter with him as he takes the other books out, a few pages folded at the tips but you won’t lecture him on that. There’s this comfortable silence that’s filled with cars outside, tires on slick rain-covered pavement, soft movement and people moving throughout the stacks, footsteps on wood.

You open up his profile on the computer by typing in his last name and you kinda glance up at him to find that his eyes are already on you, trailing over your form. You really try not to give him the satisfaction of blushing.

Sighing a little, you lean against the counter and consider your words carefully before meeting his gaze. “So…were you gonna tell me?”

It takes him about a half a second to realize what you’re talking about and he purses his lips, eyes sparkling in shared amusement and cheekiness. “Maybe…would it have let me rent more than five books out at a time?”

You laugh softly, checking off each of the books he’s returned before ringing him up for the Elvis & Me. “No, but that was a solid attempt.” You look at the list he’s brought back and tap the paper with your finger, “Next five?”

He nods and follows you into the stacks as you search for his books. It’s kinda nice actually, because once you find one of the books he wants, you’re able to hand it to him to hold. It doesn’t take you very long, you know this place like a blueprint imprinted on your mind—and Austin notices that.

“What made you want to work here?”

You hum, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth. You feel like it’s such a loaded question sometimes and you swallow down the urge to reply sarcastically, the knee jerk reaction to defend your choices. Why be a bookstore clerk when you could literally be doing anything else? Like having a successful career?

“Well, it should be fairly obvious that I love books,” You smile over your shoulder, moving towards another aisle, “And uh…” You have no idea why you’re telling him this, he’s practically a stranger, and yet you know Austin relates given your late night research and there’s this aura around him that you can’t explain that makes you feel completely comfortable with him, “Well my mom loved to read, she always had something different in her hands,” You lick your lips, handing him another book. “She died two years ago.”

Austin pauses, a soft nod, “I’m sorry. Makes you feel closer to her, I’m sure.”

As you turn a corner, you hesitate to look at him. He does get it, without you even having to say it, “Yeah, exactly.”

There’s one more book that’s on Austin’s list that you’re having a bit of trouble finding but it’s probably because the teenager who works in here on Saturdays mis-shelved it. You chew on your lower lip, checking one more place.

“So I’m assumin’ you’ve got a favorite book.”

“Oh of course,” You check behind a few novels and…got it. Pulling it out triumphantly, you put it on Austin’s stack in his hands. “Doesn’t everyone? Though it really depends on the mood I’m in—how are you ever supposed to pick just one?”

He smiles as he listens, like the concept of having multiple favorites is intriguing. And it’s definitely one of things you noticed in the interviews you watched, how Austin gives his complete attention over to another person. He might have been the one being asked questions in some cases but he gives that equal attention back—easily looping you into the warmth of the conversation by making sure he knows your name, asking questions back, listening with intent, not just because it looks good.

So you feel like he’s waiting for a legitimate response and…well, you want to give it to him. You do love talking about books.

“Favorite like…I could read it a million times over or favorite as in ‘if I could only pick one book to read for my whole life’?”

He purses his lips, “Last part.”

You hum, something difficult. Alright, well, you enjoy a challenge. You ponder the question a few times over as you both walk to the front of the store, getting ready to check him out for his new set of rented books.

“My favorite is The Things They Carried by Tim’O Brien,” You smile a little, putting his new selection of Elvis related books under his profile and pushing them towards him when you’re done, “It’s historical fiction and I know that sounds boring right off the bat,” You laugh, “But the writing is really beautiful and it’s told in a series of vignettes that you can read separately or out of order.”  

Austin smiles, “You have a copy here?”

Your eyebrows crinkle together a bit in confusion but you nod, “Yeah, I can uh…I can add it to your rent list for next time.”

“I’ll just buy it,” Austin replies, taking his wallet out.

You let out a soft laugh in surprise, “Uhm, I mean…you don’t even know if you’re gonna like it yet.”

“But it comes so highly recommended,” He teases, “And it’ll give me a good reason to ask for your number.”

There’s a long string of moments in which you know he can’t be serious, the back of your neck heating up and your cheeks going red. That seems to be the response he’s after, because his eyes flutter over your face, a small smirk pulling the ends of his mouth. And that doesn’t seem fair at all.

You bite the inside of your cheek, keeping him on his toes too by saying, “Really think I’ll need to hear your review on my favorite book first.”

Austin doesn’t expect that, you can see it on his face as he slowly smiles, nodding as he gathers up the books he’s taking with him. “I’ll be back with a review then.”

And while you’re not exactly going to hold your breath? You can’t say that you’re not looking forward to that.

--

Cathy thinks you’re downright crazy, and maybe you are, but it seemed like such a smooth idea at the time to have Austin wait to get your number. But then a week passes, and then two, and then it’s an entire month.

Then it’s three and you’re almost certain this man isn’t coming back.

There’s no set return date for the books, exactly, either. If a customer doesn’t bring them back within a year, their card is charged. But you have a feeling that’d be something insignificant to someone like Austin. There’s no use fretting over it—maybe you missed a moment, a shot, and yet nothing is stopping him from coming in either, right?

You let it go (barely, but you’re working on it).

Coming into the bookstore later one day than you usually do, a cup of coffee in your hand, you’re looking down at your phone (rookie mistake) and nearly knock someone right over.

“Oh sorry,” You look up at the jet-black haired guy and…blink.

“Just the person I was lookin’ for.” Austin smiles and you’re pretty sure your brain is restarting because—

“Did you…” Your eyes graze over his curls, the style exactly the same except for the shade and it brings out the blueness of his irises. Definitely not a bad look for him, but unquestionably striking in difference, “What were trying to come in undercover since you disappeared for three months?”

He laughs lightly and at least has the decency to look a little guilty, “Yeah I uh, I got caught up,” And there’s an apology in the tone of his voice even though he doesn’t say the words out loud. You wonder if it has anything to do with the sudden hair change…which looks very closely related to Elvis, if you were to think about it.

“But it gave me a chance to read your book like I said I was goin’ to.”

You hum and move towards the counter to put your things down, sliding your coat off your shoulders. You’re genuinely wondering what he thought about it, especially since you didn’t think he would read it at all…or commit book-robbery and come back into the bookstore. So a pleasant surprise for sure and you straighten your shoulders, attempting to shake out the frazzled feeling nipping at the bottom of your stomach.

You pick up your coffee and take a long sip, “So—what about a two-word review to get us started.”

Austin licks his lips, leaning against the counter as he thinks about it. Not an easy answer, for sure, and you’re glad he’s actually taking the time to formulate a response.

And then— “Hauntingly beautiful.”

Your stomach drops straight to your knees and it feels like a breeze brushes through the bookstore, traveling down your spine. You swallow over an emotion in your throat, heartbeat kinda picking up in your ears and while you know it’s a coincidence? It just doesn’t feel like one.

Your mom used to use the exact same words to describe your favorite book. Hauntingly beautiful. Something that Austin would obviously never know.

Taking in a short breath, you grab a post-it from near the register and scribble your name and phone number on it, handing it over to him with a small smile.

“Good answer.”

Austin smirks, taking the post-it with an agreeing hum. You have no idea where this is going to go, if anywhere, but you’ve always been a fan of reading new books…and you’re looking forward to see how this chapter is going to write itself.

[eddiesgorlie]

Her Protector Pt.2 (Elvis)

Elvis Presley x Reader

Read part one first!

Warnings: mentions of SA, blood, panic attacks.

Word count: 2,049

Comment or message me to join my taglist!

It had been five days since the incident. Five days of Elvis taking care of me. The first two days I struggled to stand and walked, but Elvis helped me through everything, holding me up and carrying me to the bathroom, bringing meals to his room where I was staying and watching movies and spending time with me.

Today I decided it was time to get out of the dark room and get some sunlight and fresh air while the boys played football. “Are you sure you’re ready?” Elvis asked. “I am. Can you grab me those sweatpants and that shirt?” I asked, pointing to the chair with clothes over it. He nodded and handed them to me. He helped me put everything on and grabbed a blanket and book before helping me down the steps and to the front lawn, getting me setup and comfortable on a chair in a shaded area.

“Look, its’s Y/n!” Jerry yelled to the group. They all jogged up to me like someone just announced pancake breakfast. “How are you feeling?” Sonny asked. “Better. Thank you for asking.” I said. “Its been real sad without you.” Jerry said. “Oh be quiet.” I said with a laugh. Joe, Billy, Lamar and Charlie all checked on me and wished me the best.

I pulled out my book as the boys started playing football. I didn’t get too far in reading though, their game was very entertaining to watch. After a while they stopped keeping score and just started having fun. I was having fun until a familiar car started up the driveway. The mafias eyes shot up to the sound of a car, quickly realizing who it was, Elvis and Jerry jogged up to me and Elvis lifted me up, trying to get me inside quickly, Jerry following behind with all of my things. “Mama, daddy, I need help with Y/n!” Elvis yelled. Gladys’s came out of the open door and sped over to me, taking Elvis’s place. Jerry tossed all of the things down and helped Gladys get me inside. They got me on the couch and Jerry ran outside, shutting the door behind him.

“What was all of that commotion?” Gladys asked. “Red showed up.” I said. I heard yelling outside. “Y/n, please come out! I know you’re in there. You know I love you baby!” I heard Red yell. “Don’t listen, sweetheart.” Gladys said as she covered my ears.

I continued to hear muffled yells and the screech of a car. I started hyperventilating, all of the progress I’ve made being ruined as I remembered that nights events. The front door flew open and the boys came flooding in. “Elvis, shes panicking.” Gladys said. Elvis quickly made his way over to me and got on his knees in front of me. The others crowded behind him. “Give her some space.” Elvis said. They didn’t budge. “I said give her some space, damnit!” He yelled at them. They all dispersed to other parts of the house as Elvis tried to calm me down. “He’s gone now, you’re safe. Can you look at me Y/n?” He asked. I looked up at him, shivering. “What can you hear?” He asked. “You.” I said. “What can you smell?” “Grass.” “What can you feel?” “The couch, and your hands.” I said, catching my breath. “Are you feeling better?” He asked. “I am.” I said.

“Do you want some water?” He asked. I nodded. He got up and went to the kitchen, returning with a glass a couple minutes later. He sat next to me and helped me support the glass in my shaking hands. “You’ve gotta take a sip.” He said, bringing the glass to my lips. I drank the cold liquid and he set it on the table once I was done. “Good girl.” He said. “Can I just rest my eyes, EP?” I asked. “Of course. Do you want to stay here or up in the room?” He asked. “Here.” I said. “Ok, I’ll be outside if you need me.” He said. “No, I want you to stay.” I said, grabbing his hand. He nodded and laid back on the couch, moving me to where I was laying on his chest. I almost immediately fell asleep once I had laid down.

When I woke up I heard the calming sound of Elvis breathing and quietly snoring. My body ached and I tried to move without waking him up but it did. His eyes flickered open and he sighed as he smiled. “Hi.” He said. “I’m so sorry I woke you.” I said, knowing his struggles when it came to sleeping. “No, no don’t be sorry. Perfect timing actually, I can smell dinner.” He said. I slowly sat up, hissing at the pain. “Are you ok?” He asked. “Yeah, I still just have some pain.” I said, taking a breath before standing up. Elvis stood up and pulled me up with him so I could get my balance. “You didn’t tell me you were still in pain.” He said. “I didn’t want to worry you. I’m sure its fine.” I said. He nodded and we walked to the dining room, joined by the Memphis mafia. Everyone brought some food in and we said grace before enjoying Gladys amazing cooking.

The guys started asking me questions and I got nervous again, I reached for Elvis’s hand under the table and held it tightly. They kept asking “How are you doing?” “Are you still in pain?” “Did today mess you up?” “What can we do to help after today?” I know they meant good things from it but it just kept brining it back. “Guys, stop.” Elvis said. They all stopped and got back into their dinner. “So, EP when are you recording next?” Charlie asked. “Not for a little while. I don’t want to have to go all the way to Nashville now and I don’t know what I want to record yet.” He said. He lied, the truth was that he didn’t want to leave me. He saw how the Mafia could be like vultures sometimes and he refused to leave me until he knew I was comfortable and able to take care of myself mentally and physically, I couldn’t even shower on my own yet.

Dinner was quiet after that, everyone could sense Elvis’s anger from all of the questions. He never stopped stroking my hand though.

After dinner I helped carry the plates to the kitchen and went to start cleaning before Elvis stopped me. “No, go upstairs. You need some rest.” He said. “Elvis, I’m ok. Let me help.” I said. “Y/n, no. Go upstairs.” He said. I stepped back at his tone before nodding and walking out of the room. “Y/n I’m sorry I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He said following me. “Elvis, it’s ok.” I said. He nodded and walked back to the kitchen. I went upstairs and walked to mine and red’s old room, deciding maybe its time to move back in here. I pushed the door open and it was all the same. My clothes from that night were on the floor, blood on the bedsheets and Red’s belongings spread around the room. I covered my mouth and slid back against the wall, letting all the emotions hit me like a freight train. I tried to control my breathing like Elvis helped me with earlier but I couldn’t, I felt so vulnerable back in the room and alone. What could I hear? My screams. What could I feel? Pain. “What could I see? My blood. All I wanted to do was leave the room but my body felt like jelly and lead at the same time, I couldn’t move. My lungs started feeling tight and my throat was closing. I grabbed at my neck trying to get air, trying to scream, but nothing would come out. I laid back on the floor, would this be how I died? I would die angry at Elvis in the room I was raped in that I was in because I was mad at Elvis. He was the only thing I could think of. Would he miss me? Elvis. The door flew open and there was Elvis. Elvis. Elvis.

“Why are you in here?” He yelled, noticing my current situation he quickly got on his knees to help me. He pulled me into his lap, struggling to move my stiff body. Somehow he was able to pull me into the hallway, closing the door to that room. I was back in his lap again, he was stroking my hands, kissing my forehead and pushing my hair from my face until air made it into my lungs and I started coughing and gasping. “There you go, good girl.” He said putting me in a sitting position so I wouldn’t choke.

“Why were you in there?” He asked, laying me back down once my coughing fit was over. “I-I was going to try to sleep in there again. I thought I was over staying my welcome.” I said, my voice raspy. “Never, you are always welcome in my room. I’d never expect you to go in there again.” He said. “Thank you. Can we go to your room now?” I asked. “Of course.” He said. He stood up and pulled me up afterward. He had to support my entire body because how weak and shaky my legs were. “C-can I take a shower?” I asked, noticing my shirt was drenched in sweat. “Honey, I don’t think you’re going to be able to, you can’t hold yourself up.” He said. “Please. You can help me, please.” I said. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Ok, I’ll help you.” He said he got my into his room and had me sit on the bed. He immediately turned the shower on and came back to help me undress. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen me.. nude since he had seen me that night and had to help Gladys once when I had to have a sponge bath. This time felt different though. His gentle fingers slowly worked the fabric off of me and he stripped down to his boxers before helping me into the shower. I leaned against his front and my head dropped onto his shoulder as the warm water from my first shower since that night engulfed my body.

He handed me a bar of soap and I started cleaning my body with the soap. The soap was obviously a mens soap, it smelled like him. His fingers stroked my middle before I handed him the soap. I turned to face him so he could help me wash my hair. He put some shampoo into my hair and massaged it in as I held onto his shoulders. His eyes never looked below my neck. “Oh no, thats going to go in your eye.” He said, taking his thumb and wiping the shampoo from my forehead. “There we go.” He said with a smile. I looked at him, just looked between his beautiful blue eyes and beautiful pink lips. I leaned forward and crashed my lips onto his. He immediately reciprocated the kiss but pulled away a moment later. “No, you aren’t thinking straight. You just had a panic attack, your emotions aren’t in the right place.” He said, rinsing the shampoo from my hair. “Elvis, I am thinking straight.” I said. He turned the water off. “No you aren’t, I’m not a jerk that takes advantage of girls.” He said helping me out of the shower and wrapping me in a towel. “Elvis, please listen to me!” I cried. “No, Y/n. Talk to me tomorrow or next week or whenever you are thinking straight.” He said. He helped me into my pajama’s and sat me in a vanity chair so I could do my skincare and brush my hair. He went in the bedroom and put his pajamas on.

Once he had changed, he came back into the bathroom and helped me get into bed. “I’m sorry I’m being harsh, Y/n. I’m just trying to protect you.” He said. I nodded, not meeting his eyes. I snuggled into the blankets and let out my quiet painful sobs once the lights turned off.

Part 3 coming soon.

Taglist: @18lkpeters @06nasyrah13 @peaceloveelvis

[mooodyblue]

hi lovely! it’s calla from @bellanotchewrites . i was wondering if you could write a lil sumn-sumn about a reader who has a crappy living situation (maybe their parents are verbally abusive or something along those lines?) what elvis would do to help them get through it, if he would stand up to their parents, if he would get them out, etc. thank you so much, and i’m sorry if this is too heavy (feel free to ignore if so)!!

-all my love, calla xx

ty for the request! hope this is okay 🫶🏼 i wrote this with a platonic relationship between the two in mind, but whatever floats your boat!

just good friends

pairing: elvis x gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

warnings: light cursing, verbally abusive parents

➸ masterlist

you were always weary of growing close to people. it was one thing hanging out during school and at school, but hanging out outside of school? a nightmare. their parents would have to meet yours, yours would come back to you immediately feeling the need to judge you, saying you weren't good enough to be friends with people like their kids.

but that's just how it was in your world. you weren't good enough for anything or anyone. even the best grades weren't good enough for your parents. you'd be lucky enough even to be let out of the house if it wasn't for something school-related. everyone was going out, driving around, and going to the movies every weekend while you had to sit at home and read or study. 

then came along the new kid, elvis presley. you were caught off guard by him, how he was neatly dressed and had his hair all done up. he certainly didn't look like any of the other boys, not that you were judging of course. 

he seemed to be the odd one out. he had made a few friends, but was soft-spoken and always tried keeping to himself. after some time, he finally approached you, noticing how you'd always sit alone for lunch. he stood in front of you, his lunch in his hands. “can i sit here?” he asked. 

you looked up from your book, “okay.” you pushed your things closer to you and let him sit across from you. 

the two of you didn't say much, he didn't seem to want to make an effort to speak to you. you were too focused on your book to really care anyway. 

“i-i like comic books.” elvis blurted out suddenly, causing you to look up again. “like..u-um…c-captain marvel jr…you know. h-he's my favorite.” he added, his cheeks pink. 

“oh.” you muttered. “i’ve…i’ve never read–”

“sorry.” he accidentally interrupted. “i-i mean….” he let out a frustrated sigh, looking down and shaking his head. 

his awkwardness made you giggle, and immediately became friends in no time. 

just like everyone else, you only hung out with him during school hours. you had lunch together and always partnered up during class, getting closer and closer each day. it wasn't until he asked about seeing a movie together, wanting to hang out outside of school hours. you explained that you had to ask your parents first, which he completely understood and left it at that.

your parents bombarded you with questions; asking who he was, where he was from, how you knew him, what was he like….it almost felt like a game of twenty questions except the questions continued to go on forever and ever. “how did you manage to make a friend like him? who knew you could actually make friends? are you good enough for him?” your dad spat, questions that made you rethink your entire friendship with elvis. 

when elvis finally approached you and asked about hanging out again, you explained that your parents wouldn't allow it—it wasn't until he asked why not when you really…didn't know why. you felt silly replying with “i just can't.”, but that was the best you could do. 

elvis didn't want to give up that fast. part of him felt like you were lying. 

he tried asking you again to hang out, only for you to shut him down again. over and over again you begged and pleaded with your parents to give you permission, eventually agreeing to let elvis come over as long as the two of you stayed in the living room where they could see you. he didn’t judge you for having strict parents, he understood how some parents could get sometimes. his parents weren’t as strict, but his momma was always on his case about being careful just for crossing the street. 

he quickly learned to realize your parents were beyond strict. they were kind to him once he had come over, but after hanging out for awhile—he felt odd about being around your parents.

anytime you had gone into another room, he could hear the whispers and judgemental remarks towards you for no reason. it was as if they were trying to make you feel undeserving of a friend like elvis. they had no issue bringing up your grades in front of him. you’d nervously handed them your report card, having all A+’s except for one subject.

he felt so awkward sitting there. it was like they were doing it on purpose. 

“you’ve got time to make friends, but no time to focus on algebra? what is this?” your mom asked, pointing at the marks on the piece of paper. 

“momma, i—” you started.

“we did not raise a child to be as dumb as you.” she spat, tossing the paper back at you. “i better see you both working on algebra. no child of mine gets embarrassing grades like that!” 

elvis’s mouth hung low as she walked out of the room, looking at you and how flushed you were, clearly humiliated. “hey—”

“you should just go.” you interrupted.

“what?” his eyes widened, “i ain't leavin’. y-you gonna let her talk to you like that?” 

you sighed, shaking your head. “it’s nothing.” you pulled a textbook out from your bag, curling up on the sofa and opening it to a page you'd been struggling on. “it’s fine, i just need to work harder.”

“the hell you do!” he nearly yelled out. “they don't even let you leave the house. you sit at school readin’ borin’ ol’ textbooks and dictionaries—you don't deserve to be talked down like that.”

“elvis, just drop it. okay? please?” you begged. 

you made peace with your living situation. you made peace with being trapped inside your home constantly, harassed and judged for the littlest things by your family. it wasn't worth fighting back, it never was. 

you saw the sad look in elvis’s eyes when you admitted defeat, just letting it go and staring at a textbook with you.

to your surprise, your parents let him come over again. this time, he had brought a few comic books over—hoping to introduce you to his favorites and to introduce you to something that isn't a boring textbook. you enjoyed hearing elvis ramble about his interests, how he stuttered his way through the plot of some of the comics and series he read. 

oh, but you weren't allowed to have fun. 

you were giggling along with him, a bit too close together as you read along with him—gasping and aw’ing at some of the different parts. your father walked in furious, trying to see what you were giggling about, his eyes red as he saw what you were reading. 

he pushed the two of you away from each other and ripped the comic book from your lap. “reading this junk when your grades aren't the way they should be?” he said snarkily.

elvis looked up at him, almost in disbelief that he did that to him too and not just you. “sir, t-that's mine.” 

“don't be bringing this garbage into my home.” he shot back, pointing the crumbled-up comic at him. he looked back at you, “is this why you've gone stupid? because you're hangin’ out with squrriels like him?” 

instead of fighting back, you looked down ashamed. it was always better to keep your mouth shut. 

“answer me!” he smacked your arm with the comic book. “you deaf now? huh? speak to your father when he's talking to you!” his voice raised higher, his eyes angry as he got closer to you.

elvis couldn't take it anymore, standing up. “that's enough, sir!” he got back in his face—blocking him from getting closer to you. “n-now maybe i ain't the smartest kid in school, but y/n sure is. a-and…w-well—goddammit, y/n is tryin’ their best!” he stomped his foot, grabbing your hand. 

“elvis, don't—”

he shushed you, looking back at your father. “w-what kinda parent talks to their own child in that way?! m-maybe you're the stupid one!” 

you stifled back a giggle, covering your mouth as you looked away. 

your father was raging, looking at elvis in pure disgust. “how dare you speak to an adult in that way!” he growled.

“and how dare you speak to your child in that way?!” elvis spat back. “y/n is one of–if not the smartest kid i know. you–you lock ‘em up in this house all damn weekend, givin’ 'em no independence—who does that someone?! huh?!”

he opened his mouth to fire back, just shaking his head and pointing at the front door. “get the hell outta my house.” 

“gladly. c'mon, y/n.” elvis muttered angrily, taking your hand to drag you out of the house. 

“now, where do you think you're goin’ with my kid?!” he asked quickly, getting ready to grab at your arm. 

“gettin' ‘em the hell out of here. that's what i’m doin’!” he quickly ushered you out the front door, nearly shoving you into his truck and driving off before your father could get a chance to catch up with you.

you turned around, looked out the back window with your eyes widened as your father looked as if he didn't know what to do. “elvis…i….jesus. what did you just do?!” you asked frantically, turning to look at him in the drivers seat as he drove down the street.

“what did i do?” he repeated back, scoffing and shaking his head before nudging your shoulder. “i ain't got no damn clue, honey.”

[vintageshanny]

Officer Presley and the Librarian - Part 7 - Pool Party of Two

Writing Prompt: Summer theme

Content: Smut, fluff (You might actually need to see a dentist after reading this due to the sweetness quotient. I guess this is just what my heart and brain needed to express right now). 18+

You glanced up over the edge of your book when you felt the water droplets hitting your leg. You had been lounging by the pool reading a book while Elvis cooled off in the water. Now he was standing over you with a little pouty look on his face. “I thought you were gonna come in with me, baby,” he said. “I am, I just finished my chapter. Let’s go in.” You set your book down and smiled up at him as the water from his hair and T-shirt dripped down onto your red one-piece swimsuit. “Hold on, I’m thirsty,” he said, reaching for his bottle of Pepsi on the little table next to your lounge chair. “That’s okay, take your time. I have a nice view right now,” you teased as you eyed his crotch that was at your eye level. You could see the entire outline of all he had to offer. “You know, those wet swim shorts cling to you real nice. I’ve heard a lot of men shrink in the cold water, but I see you don’t have that problem.” You giggled as Elvis’ face turned red and he turned to pull his chair closer to yours. “Mmm you look good from the back too,” you said, reaching out to give his perfect round butt a gentle pat. “Hush, woman,” he said with an embarrassed chuckle as he swatted your hand away and sat down next to you.

“You look pretty good yourself, y’know,” Elvis smirked as he eyed you up and down, leaning his head back against the chair. “I love seein’ ya look so happy.” It had been two weeks since you and Elvis had confessed your love for each other, and you’d been on an emotional high since then. You’d essentially been living at Graceland, leaving only to go to work at the library, and you could tell that if Elvis had his way, you wouldn’t be leaving for that either. He didn’t put up too much of a fight yet, but you knew it was coming. For now, though, you were just trying to enjoy the bliss of those first stages of love.

“Well, being with you makes me so happy, baby. Especially when you come out of the water shoving this in my face,” you leaned over and ran your fingertips gently over the outline of his cock, making him shiver. “There’s my handsy girl,” he said with a wink. “I see you’ve got one thing on your mind today. Do ya need daddy ta take care of ya?” he whispered. You glanced over your shoulder at where some of the guys were playing football in the grass, but no one seemed to be paying attention to the two of you. “Out here? Anyone could look over,” you said with a blush. “So you’re jus’ gonna touch Little Elvis, get ‘im all riled up, and that’s it? That don’t sound fair, do it?” he said, his hand reaching over to trace over your stomach and down your hip. “Do you want to go inside?” you asked, starting to feel very hot and bothered. “Nah, ya promised me that ya’d swim with me.” Elvis stood and grabbed your hand, pulling you up and toward the pool.

“What are we going to do in the pool?” you asked as you followed him down the steps into the water. “Whatever we want, baby. If no one wants to see it, they shouldn’t come over here when I’m spendin’ quality time with my sexy librarian.” At that he lunged at you and you squealed as he pressed you up against the side of the pool. Goosebumps were rising all over your body, and you weren’t sure if it was from the cool water or the feel of his open lips pressing against your neck. “Mmm,” you moaned a little too loudly. Charlie turned from where they were playing and called out, “What’s goin’ on over there? Everything okay?” Elvis turned from you just long enough to say, “Don’ worry ‘bout it. Jus’ mind your business.” Charlie shrugged and turned back to the game.

“Ya need to be a little quieter baby, if ya don’ want an audience,” Elvis teased as he resumed his open-mouthed kisses down your neck and toward your chest. “Will you do me a favor, Elvis?” you asked softly as his hands roamed over your curves, squeezing your breasts gently. “I’ll do all kinds of favors for ya, baby,” he murmured into your skin. “Will you take this T-shirt off?” You could feel Elvis stop in his tracks and tense up a little bit. You knew he felt a little self-conscious to have no shirt on where other people could see him, but you wanted him to feel like he could be completely at ease with you. “I-I-I don’ know, baby, I, um, it-it,” he stumbled trying to find an explanation that wouldn’t require him to admit how insecure he felt without it. He knew some of his friends had gained weight over the years too, and they felt no need to hide, but their bodies weren’t being constantly scrutinized.

“Please, daddy, for me,” you cooed in his ear as you traced over the area where his wet shirt clung to his nipples. “You know how I like to feel your skin pressed up against me. And that trail of hair…it drives me wild,” you whispered. Elvis blushed a little bit and relaxed his grip on you. “O-o-okay, baby, only for you. You helped him peel the wet shirt off, and he set it next to the pool. “Oh, that’s more like it,” you breathed out as you ran your fingers through his wet chest hair and down over his soft belly. Elvis’ mouth turned up in his trademark crooked grin and he stared at you with a funny look in his eyes. “What is it? Are you okay?” you asked, worried maybe you had pushed him too much. Elvis pressed his body close to yours and cradled the back of your head with his large hand. “I-I-I’m better than okay, baby. I jus’ never thought I’d find someone who could love and accept every part of me. B-B-but here you are.” “Each little piece of you makes up the beautiful man that you are. So I can’t help but love every part,” you said softly as you leaned your head down and kissed the smooth skin of his shoulder. As your lips moved up to meet his, you could feel Little Elvis responding in the best way.

“Is anyone watching us, baby?” Elvis asked as he pulled back from your lips. You looked over his shoulder and shook your head. “No, they moved further away.” “That’s good, they musta got the hint.” He smiled and moved his hand down your side until he was gripping your thigh, his thumb rubbing over the elastic band of your swimsuit. “These little strands of hair creepin’ out are jus’ drivin’ me crazy, honey, I need ta see more.” He pulled the elastic to the side exposing your entire pubic area. As he looked down into the water at you, Little Elvis started poking at you more insistently. “I need to see more of you too, daddy,” you whispered as you pulled at the waistband of his swim shorts. You reached your hand down inside of them and found what you were looking for. Elvis let out a soft groan as you started pumping him in your hand. At the same time, he used one of his knees to spread your legs open a little bit and stuck one long finger inside of you.

Your body let out a shudder as he added a second finger and rubbed his thumb against your clit. You tried to focus on pumping his cock, but your whole body seemed to be responding to his touch. “Oh, baby, seein’ ya like this, I’m almost ready ta finish. Let me get inside of ya, honey,” he said as he looked into your blissful face. You nodded, unable to think straight from the pleasure of his fingers. He pulled his shorts down in the front just enough to pull out his cock and tried to pull your swimsuit even further to the side. The fabric could not withstand this strong tug, and the entire crotch of your suit ripped open, leaving your bottom half fully exposed. “Oh goddamn that’s a beautiful sight,” Elvis groaned when he looked down at you. Your pussy was just throbbing with need for him, and he wasted no time in thrusting into you. It was fortunate the guys had moved their game further away, because the two of you were failing in your attempts to keep things quiet. Elvis finished with a grunt and leaned over you, holding onto the side of the pool.

“Did I take care of ya, baby?” he asked nervously. Usually he could feel you shaking and calling out his name, but the position was a little more awkward in the pool. You bit your lip, not sure what to say. You didn’t want to lie, but you also didn’t want him to feel bad about it. “I always feel good when we’re together, Elvis. I always feel taken care of,” you said, scratching one of his sideburns gently. He leaned into your touch, closed his eyes, and sighed a little bit. “But ya didn’t quite get there, did ya? I’m sorry, let me help ya finish,” he said, pulling out of you slowly and reaching his hand back down. “No, Elvis, it’s not you, I think I’m just too nervous that someone’s going to walk back over here. I couldn’t fully let go.” “I’ll make it up to ya inside then,” he insisted. “With your tongue?” you said with a wink. Elvis laughed at that. “Whatever my baby wants,” he said, sticking his tongue out and licking your cheek, making you squeal.

“Um, how am I supposed to get out of the pool with my suit wrecked?” you asked with a nervous laugh. “Hmm I guess I did really use some force tryin’ ta get at ya,” Elvis chuckled. “You should wear a bikini next time for…easier access.” You blushed at the thought of that but kept your insecurities to yourself. “You stay here, and I’ll get your towel,” Elvis announced. He climbed out of the pool while you tried to keep your hands over yourself in case anyone walked over. “Okay, baby, I got ya,” Elvis said, shielding you with a towel as you climbed the stairs. Right after he wrapped it around you, the guys started heading toward the pool. “Whew…just in time,” Elvis joked.

“Hey, we were just coming to join you. It’s getting too hot out here,” Charlie announced. “Sorry fellas, we’re done for now.” “Aw, c’mon, you can stay a little long-” Charlie was cut off by an elbow to the ribs. Joe motioned with his head to where a little scrap of red swimsuit fabric was floating in the pool. Your face turned scarlet when you realized everyone knew what had just happened. “Hey, where’s your shirt?” Charlie asked Elvis, changing the subject. You nervously glanced at Elvis, hoping he wasn’t embarrassed. His face flushed a little bit, but he just grabbed his sopping wet shirt and said, “Well boys, when the most beautiful girl in the world wants ta get busy in the pool, ya jus’ do what she asks.” He gave a little wink as you buried your head in his chest, too embarrassed to look anyone in the face. “C’mon, baby, let’s go and I’ll make it up to ya.” The guys looked a little confused as you and Elvis walked toward the house giggling like teenagers in love.

Thank you to my beautiful sister wives @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love. You all inspire me every day and I love you! ❤️

Thank you to everyone who has expressed continued interest in this series and in my writing! I appreciate you all so much! ❤️

Tag list: @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @doll-elvis @elvispresleygf @artlover8992 @richardslady121 @lookingforrainbows

[ranaissingle]

Coffee or Tea pt. 3

Part 1 Part 2

Part 4 Masterlist

Summary: Coffee Shop AU where the reader goes to the same coffee shop often to read books, study, or just drink tea and stare at the walls lol. The reader is a college student majoring in Neuroscience and Psychology at UCLA. (you are planning to work in the medical field so be prepared for classes and activities related to that).

Rating: T (for now) Pairings: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.5k ish Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, stalking A/N: I tried to make this chapter over 1k words because I feel like the others were a little short. I also have an Elvis birthday request in the works it's just taking a minute because school started back up and I'm already swamped lol. Thank you for waiting I hope you enjoy the chapter!

★──────────★─────────★

Austin and Y/Ns interactions were similar each time. He would walk into the coffee shop, get his drink, and spot her in the corner of his vision; either engrossed in a book or swamped with homework from whatever classes she was currently taking, then he would make his way toward her and they would sit and talk for hours or just sit in silence while Y/N slaved away over her chemistry problems and Austin reviewed lines for whatever blockbuster he was currently filming.

This routine continued for 7 months before something changed. Both had feelings for each other but were too insecure to think that they could ever be loved by the other. Austin's newfound popularity came with its fair share of criticisms of his looks, voice, acting, and every other minute inconsequential detail about him. Similarly, Y/N could not comprehend how a celebrity of Austin's status had any interest in speaking with her, let alone building a 7-month friendship. But she was willing to take what she could get.

"I told you 'you should read that book'. It's a Masterpiece I'm telling you!" Austin had walked into the cafe earlier and they were both currently engrossed in a conversation over both of their latest reads. Y/N had been begging him to read The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue and he had finally caved into your demands.

"You're right I stand corrected," he held his hands up in mock defeat while he smiled lazily. God, he was beautiful, she thought as she felt his leg press against hers. The size of the table they always occupied didn't leave much room for both of their legs so Y/N had grown used to Austin's legs surrounding hers under the table.

Y/N looked down at her watch before she spoke "I've gotta get going I still have to make dinner." She could've spent the rest of her life in that coffee shop, but her real-world responsibilities were calling and she had to get home.

Austin didn't want her to leave. He wanted to keep talking about books and 'accidentally' knock his knee against hers and feign innocence.

"Oh I can walk you home if you like, my place is in your direction anyway." Austin tried to keep the excitement out of his voice as he asked. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with her before they had to part ways.

" Are you sure you want to? I can get there myself I don't want to be a bother" She tilted her head in a quizzical manner and it took all of Austin's strength not to kiss her right then and there. The supple pout of her lips and her downturned eyebrows mesmerized him.

"It's alright, really, and I need some more book recommendations from you anyway." Following his reassurance, they both gathered their things and started the walk home.

Whilst in the midst of a conversation regarding various literary pieces, Y/N saw the flash of a camera shudder in the corner of her eye. She abruptly turned to see who had taken a photo of them, but the culprit had already retreated behind the wall of an alleyway.

Austin had noticed her turn and the abrupt end of her sentence

"Are you alright?" He leaned his head down to get a better view of her face. Her eyes were wide as she bit her lip and knit her eyebrows together.

"Y-yeah I just thought I felt someone taking a picture of us." She faced her head forward again. Austin looked behind them only to find the culprit slowly sneaking their head out from behind the wall with a camera in tow.

He grits his teeth only to loop his arm around Y/N and position his large hand to block her face from the side. She looked up at him and he knelt his head down to speak in her ear while he tucked her head further against his chest.

"We are gonna have to walk a little faster okay? He probably wants a picture of your face or something like that."The annoyance in Austin's voice was palpable. Here he was trying to spend some time with the girl he liked and the paparazzi had come to ruin it.

"Okay, yeah I get it." As soon as her meek reply came Austin began walking briskly with Y/N in tow. She steered them in the direction of her apartment and Austin kept scanning behind them to see if they had been followed. Once he confirmed they were not, they both walked into the apartment building and up the steps. Y/N opened the door to her apartment with Austin's hand still wrapped around her shoulders. He had not yet realized that his arm was still wrapped around her and although Y/N wanted to speak up, she was not willing to risk losing his warmth. Instead, she turned around in his arms, lifted her head, leaned against his chest, and spoke.

" Do you want to stay for dinner? I can make us some tea after too? I have quite the assortment to choose from." She laughed as she spoke and although Austin wasn't exactly a tea person, he was willing to drink swamp water if it came accompanied by a home-cooked meal from Y/N.

"Yeah sure as long as you don't have anything else to do." Austin would find any excuse to stay if he had to, but he was glad this one had fallen right into his lap.

Y/N dragged herself away from his embrace and made her way over to the kitchen to get the kettle warming up so she could get started on dinner.

"You can come sit at the barstools while I make dinner if you want? Dinner is gonna take me at least an hour." Austin was practically bouncing. He was in her apartment, about to drink tea on her barstools, and eat dinner that she made for him. His heart was going to burst and he couldn't bring himself to be angry over it.

Austin sipped his tea while he watched her walk around the kitchen cutting vegetables and seasoning meat. He had asked to help her several times, but each time came with an even firmer denial and a deeper frown on her lips. As much as Austin wanted to help, he would rather die than be the cause of a frown on her face.

The next hour passed with them conversing about books, music, and every other interest they seemed to have in common, which they had found to be numerous.

Y/N stirred the last of the sauce and bowtie pasta together as Austin set the table. After copious amounts of begging, she had finally offered him a job to do, much to her dismay.

Y/N plated the food and they sat in comfortable silence before Austin bit the bullet on the question he had been meaning to ask for months.

"Do you have a boyfriend Y/N? I know we've talked about my PR relationship with Kaia but we haven't talked about you." Her eyes rounded as she put her fork down to look up at him. Austin had tried to be casual about his question but the truth was he was dying to know. His insides had twisted as he awaited her reply.

"Um no, I'm not in a relationship. I haven't done well with them so I've been single for a little over a year now." She felt her cheeks warm and averted her eyes as she spoke. She hoped he was asking for the reason she thought he was. Austin was so relieved he felt a 1000-pound weight lift from his shoulders.

They made small talk as Austin tended to the dishes from dinner and Y/N made tea for the both of them. With tea in tow, they sat with stretched legs on the couch and put on a movie as white noise while they resumed their conversation.

"What did you mean earlier when you said that you 'hadn't done well' with relationships?" Austin's curiosity was eating him alive.

"You don't have to answer of course I was just wondering is all." He traced her fingers where they rested on her knee. Her eyes looked every which way before eventually landing in his.

"I guess you could say that I haven't always been lucky when it came to boyfriends. Granted I have only had 3." A hollow laugh left her lips, almost as if she was trying to cope with the reality of a situation that only she knew.

"Most of them have been... pushy about the " She paused and turned her face downward before finishing "they've been pushy about the sexual aspects of a relationship and they made me do stuff I wasn't really comfortable with." She looked at the wall behind Austin's head and avoided his gaze.

oh

Oh

He fucked up. He had royally fucked up. He had fucked up so bad there was no conceivable way of coming back from this. It was over for him. Everything he had spent the last 7 months doing was all ov-

"But, I like spending time with you Austin." She smiled so brilliantly his heart hurt. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes crinkled in the most endearing way the wider she smiled. She was breathtaking and she had no idea, and that made her all the more beautiful; to Austin at least.

★──────────★─────────★──

I hope you guys enjoyed this part! I'm gonna try to get the next one out tomorrow and I'm pretty sure it will be the last one in this series. No promises though because I'm also working on the other requests that I was sent as well as school work. (Yes I am writing fanfiction instead of studying. What's your point?) Until next time!

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 26 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/ Vampire Austin! Elvis x reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond beliet and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, ANGST, smut, mentions of blood/gore!!!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Hello everyone!! Enjoy this new part! It’s a bit shorter than normal but it’s because the next chapter is a MONSTER and I had to break it up somehow! Some questions are going to be answered and some other things are going to be uncovered😈

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3! hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

You now understand why Elvis considered not sleeping as part of his ‘curse’. There was no escaping your thoughts and it was just endless noise that played in your head. It was hard to focus on the things you wanted to hear because you had nothing to put your focus on. You were getting the hang of focusing on the sound of Elvis’ heart when he was here, but now he was so far away you couldn’t hear him anymore.

You don’t know how long you cried, it felt like forever. You just wanted him back here so you could apologize and make things right. The empty pit inside your heart ached for him. Despite the distance, you felt him ache for you too. You knew he was out there feeling the same longing you were experiencing. You prayed he’d be back in a day or so to talk things out and figure out how you guys can find answers on your new life.

But he doesn’t come back the next day, or the day after that. One full week drags on and no one has heard from him. Not even a phone call. You grew desperate for him, needing him to be here with you and hold you again. You were lonely and most importantly scared. You hadn’t even been away from him this long and you were worried.

None of the guys were hanging around the house lately and if they did stop by to check in on you, it was the same answer when you asked them if they heard anything from him. Jerry was the only one that hung around the most. He knew how worried you were even though you kept assuring him you were fine.

��Maybe I should go out there looking for him… what if he needs me,” you suggest to him one day.

“Where would you begin to look for him? E would kill us if he knew we let you out there by yourself,” he says worriedly.

“I’m stronger than all of you right now!” You snap. He swallows uncomfortably and looks away from you. You instantly feel bad and apologize.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that. I just mean, I could take care of myself,” you try to explain.

“I understand, there’s no doubt you would win in any fight with us but you don’t have any control over your abilities,” he says gently. “You’re kind of a loose cannon lately,” he jokes.

You can’t help but laugh and have to agree, you had no idea what could tick you off if you mingled with other humans you didn’t know.

“No, you’re right,” you sigh, “well maybe you can come with me?”

He pauses and considers the proposal, weighing the pros and cons of this idea.

“Elvis is my best friend. I’d do anything for him. Hell, I let him bite me. But most importantly, you’re his other half. I’ll go anywhere you go,” he says sweetly.

“But I think we should give him a bit more time. If he doesn’t come back in a few days, we’ll start looking for him,” he says.

“Okay, sounds good,” you say with a smile, thankful he’s on board with the plan.

You tried to put your time into reading all the books Elvis had on vampires. Anything to help you understand what was going on with you. Or what was going on with him? The books couldn’t keep your full attention, however. Too much worry plagued your mind and certain topics in these books disturbed you. The human part of you became squeamish when you read about the more gruesome things like how to kill a vampire. You couldn’t bring yourself to read what was in those passages. It made you physically sick to think of anyone ever trying to hurt Elvis. You hoped Jerry was right, he was just out there looking for answers to understand why you changed the way you did and what else you needed to survive.

You didn’t have an appetite while you were worrying about him so much. You weren’t eating like you should have and it had been days since you drank any blood. There was this dark part of you that craved to have Elvis’. You could barely remember what he tasted like from when you first bit him, but everything inside you screamed to bite him. It was extremely frustrating that this incessant voice in your head was begging to have him when he was God knows where.

The next few days pass slowly, and still no sign of him. You couldn’t sit in this house any longer not doing anything useful. You weren’t going to let Elvis shut you out and get himself into trouble out there. You started to gather a bag full of things you might need on your journey. You tell Elvis’ housekeepers you’ll be back soon, but don’t give them an exact date you’ll be back because you didn’t even know yourself. They had worried looks on their faces they couldn’t hide and you hated to see them worry.

You wait for Jerry in the living room, double-checking that you both have everything you need.

“Any idea where we’re going to start looking? He can be anywhere,” he says jokingly.

“Well, hopefully, he’s not too far and we can find him quickly. I just want him home. If he still didn’t find any help, we’ll go together and help him,” you say matter-of-factly. “I guess I should follow my instincts, follow the bond that tethers us together.”

“Let’s go, you know I won’t question anything you say,” he says grabbing his bag he pack and slinging it over his shoulder.

Your attention gets pulled away from the conversation and your head snaps to look at the front door like a magnet. You heard a heartbeat. A loud, melodious heartbeat, beating only for you. It was one you could recognize from anywhere.

Elvis.

You rush to open the door and see him, looking as good as ever walking up the steps to the house. His hair was slicked back, showcasing his handsome face. His eyes were still golden and more captivating than ever. He had this boyish innocence in his eye though, like he was silently pleading for you to forgive him for being gone so long. You could feel how happy he was to see you and how his heart raced faster the closer he got to you.

He stood in front of you, eying you head to toe and taking a sharp breath in. He pulls you quickly by your wrist and envelops you in his arms. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold onto him tight. You sigh a breath of relief and feel his warmth wrap around your body. His scent fills your head like an intoxicating drink. You hum content, so happy to have him in your arms again.

“Oh, baby,” he whispers as he picks you up slightly from the ground and gives you a deep, passionate kiss. It was intense and electrifying, wrapping you in his blinding love. You place your hands on his face, making sure he’s real and not some cruel dream.

He gently puts you down and you look up at him in anticipation.

“Where have you been?” You ask, hurt filling your voice.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long baby. I-I-I had to take care of things,” he says overwhelmed. He tries to comfort you but suddenly pick up another scent behind him. You suddenly feel on edge as you don’t recognize the scent at all. You dart your eyes back up at him, trying to push him to the side to see who it is but he doesn’t budge.

“Umm honey, I need you to meet someone…” he says uncomfortably. You push at his chest slightly to see who is behind him and he gives way.

It was a girl, maybe twenty years old or so, with long black hair, and flawless golden skin. She wears sunglasses shielding her gaze from you. She doesn’t say anything right away, just stares at you behind the glasses, inspecting your every detail. You step in front of Elvis instinctively, wanting to create a barrier between him and this girl.

“What do you want?” You growl. She smirks at you, amused by your protective tone.

“I’m not a threat,” she says calmly, “my name is Iris.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you say through your teeth, “what do you want. What are you doing here?” You press. You feel Elvis place his hand on your shoulder to try and calm you but need to focus and don’t want him to touch you right now. You brush his hand off of you and take another step forward to Iris.

“Elvis found us in search of answers,” She starts to explain when a man you’ve never seen starts to walk up the steps behind her. “We are like you, Chosen.”

You feel your stomach drop, not believing what she just said. You glance over at the man standing next to her. He was young too, with wavy dark brunette hair, and pale icy skin.

“My name is Alexander, it’s nice to meet you,” he says sweetly.

You look back at Elvis, unsure if you should trust them or not.

“It’s okay, they’re here to help us,” he says low.

You look back at them, nodding your head that you’ll let them talk.

Iris smiles, “Perfect, where did you guys want to begin?”

Elvis pushed the front door open and stepped to the side. “Please, come in,” he says kindly. You let them walk in first and watch as they inspect every detail of the house. You pull at Elvis’ hand before you two walk in behind them.

He looks at you intensely, as you pull him away from the door.

“Do you know who these vampires are you just invited into your home?” You say low, your eyes blazing with intensity.

“Baby, it’s all okay. They can be trusted. You need to hear what they have to say. They’re the real thing trust me, I was skeptical at first too. Please, just listen to what they have to say,” he says squeezing your hand slightly.

You huff, knowing you can’t say no to him.

“Fine, I’ll let them talk. Then we need to talk too. Alone,” you say shortly.

“I know,” he says softly, knowing there’s a lot left unsaid after your fight.

He lets you walk into the house first, resting his hand on the small of your back.

A spark.

A little golden ember blazes inside of you with one touch of his hand.

You look back at him and he has this look on his face. Smug and yet still tender. But you know he feels it too.

“Mine.” He sighs.

*

*

*

Tagging: x

@powerotelvis @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: The End

A/N: My heart, y'all. I can't believe this is over. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this last chapter for Elvis and Vivian. If there's enough demand, I'll write more of them happily ever after, but otherwise, here it is: the end. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments. I love to hear from you!

Need to read the rest? Masterlist here.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! Kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m&f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~3k

"Are you?!"

"Yes."

******

Sonny's shoulders slump as he sinks into a chair. Vivian's heart breaks for him, but she just couldn't lie to him anymore. It's not fair to anyone involved for her to keep pretending like there's nothing between her and Elvis.

"I knew it. Jerry told me about the wedding and I just kept hoping it was him being, well, him. But no, this has been going on for a lot longer than just that time, hasn't it?"

"No, we've never really been anything-"

"But that's what you've wanted. You love him and you always have." He pinches the bridge of his nose and Vivian swallows deeply. He's right. "I can't fight him. I won't win. Not if you're in love with him."

Sonny looks up at her with his eyes glossy and wet. He takes her hand and kisses the back of it.

"Sonny, I-"

"No. It's okay, sugar. I love you too much to keep you miserable. If you want him, you should be with him." She sits on the floor in front of him and leans on his knee.

"I'm not miserable."

"No, but you would be eventually. Especially if his marriage is over. It's cruel for me to make you stay, knowing what I know now."

"Sonny... I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. You can't help who you love. Can I ask one thing, though?"

"Anything." Vivian looks up at him sadly. Some part of her does care for him. Just not enough. Not more than she loves Elvis.

"I'm gonna go for a drive for a few hours. When I get back here, please be gone." She nods slowly.

"Okay. I can do that."

"Thank you." He whispers and then leans forward, kissing her forehead. Then, he stands up and walks towards the door. When he gets there he turns. "I don't want you to feel bad for me. I'll be alright. Just go be happy."

She nods again as he walks through the door. The tears come hot and fast for a while as she sits there in the rubble of her ruined marriage. After a while, she stops, though, and there's only one thing on her mind.

Elvis.

She jumps up and starts to pack.

******

Elvis is sitting in the dark in the TV room. All three TVs are going, but he has no idea what's on any of them. His mind is racing. How did he get here? He's alone, his own wife gone to another man as his heart longs for a married woman. What a mess.

His mind drifts back to the night he met Vivian. She was so beautiful reading the book of French poetry in the corner at his party. He should've whisked her away from Charlie that night. He should've broken up with Anita the second he met her and taken her in his arms to be his forever that afternoon when he found her crying at the cafe.

And all the movie years. How stupid was he to value his string of flings over her? How easy it would've been to leave them all in the dust and marry her in 1962.

And the conversation they started should've finished with them together. Why did he abandon her for Ann? Yes, he loved Ann, but what was she compared to his future with Viv?

And WHY, WHY did he choose Priscilla?! He looks at the corner of the couch where Viv had laid that night they made love for the first time. It's like a movie with the scene of her on his porch, arms full of liquor bottles, a soft smile on her lips. Then it cuts to her gently shaving his face, an ultimate gesture of love and service. And the kiss, his mouth on her body, carrying her upstairs and pulling off clothing. The flashbacks wash over him and he lets himself weep. His tongue pushing into her as she moans, her mouth wrapped around him, him pumping into her overcome with passion and love and a need to be hers forever. The gentle and affectionate touches when they finished and held each other like they'd do it every day until they died.

"Oh God, Vivian." He holds his head in his hands as the tears stream down his face. He should've married her. His heart aches thinking of her coming to see him when he was so hurt and needed her so badly, only to be turned away. How could he have spent all those years angry? How could he let her fall into Sonny's arms?

And now she's gone forever. She'll have a baby soon and then he will have truly lost her. He'll only ever-

There's a knock at the door. Whoever it is can wait. Elvis is too lost in his grief to answer the door right now.

He wraps his arms around himself and lets his shoulders shake with sobs.

Another knock, this time a little more urgent. He listens carefully and realizes it's raining. Briefly, he feels for the person who is soaking wet on his porch, but not enough to get up and answer the door.

He's always taking care of everyone else. In this moment, he needs to just be and feel and nurse his broken heart.

More knocking, almost frantic.

Fine. He gets up off the couch and goes to the door.

******

Vivian sits on the front steps in the rain, crying. She's knocked and knocked, but either he's not here or he doesn't want to see her. She has nowhere else to go and even if she did, this is the only place she wants to be. Why won't he answer?

She gets up to walk back to her car.

******

"Viv?" He says it softly, not believing what he sees in front of him. Then, he realizes she's walking away and runs out to her in the driveway. "Vivian!"

She stops dead and turns to face him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sonny left."

"He did? Why?"

"Because I'm in love with you." His heart skips.

"You... what?"

"I'm in love with you, Elvis. I always have been. I love you with every fiber of my being. It's like you're a part of me that I can't dig out. You're in me. You are me. I love you. God, I love you." She stands there, chest heaving, trying not to be a cliched crying mess in the rain. Elvis's heart has stopped with her words. His hands shake and he wants to pinch himself to make sure he isn't dreaming.

"Am I- am I too late?" She asks, almost panicked. Finally, he finds his voice.

"Never."

He takes two steps and has her in his arms, his mouth pressed to hers in a desperate kiss. The years of yearning pour out of them into the way their tongues mix in an ardent dance of need. He grabs the back of her thighs and she jumps to wrap her legs around him. Then, he turns and carries her up the steps into the house, slamming the door behind them with his foot.

She moans into his kiss as they make their way up the staircase to the bedroom, her still wrapped around him. In the room, he sets her down gently and begins peeling off her wet clothes, one layer at a time, dropping his lips to every new exposed inch of skin. He makes a trail of hot kisses along her body, finally dragging down her pants and underwear until she's fully naked in front of him. But when he goes to dive face first into her center, she stops him.

"No. I want to feel your skin." She unbuttons his shirt and pushes it off of his shoulders, going to the buttons on his pants next. He kicks off his shoes while she undoes the zipper and pulls, exposing him to her fully. They stand for a second, just taking each other in with nothing in between them, finally.

He caresses the side of her face and steps closer to her so that their bodies touch softly. She looks up at him in anticipation as he runs his thumb over her cheek.

"I have loved you from the moment I saw you. I should've said it then and every day since. It's always been you, Viv." He leans in and kisses her gently again, his hand moving down her body tenderly. When he gets to her lower back, he pulls her in close to press against him and kisses down her neck. She whimpers at the feel of his length pushing into her hip, reaching down to stroke him with her hand. He grunts at the sensation and slowly walks her backwards to the edge of the bed. She sits down, her hand still pumping him, but he stops her and gets on his knees.

"You're the love of my life, Vivian. I want to give you the world." He leans forward and kisses her thigh, pushing her legs open further to get to her center. "Let me give you everything I have, baby."

With that, he lowers his mouth to her and presses his tongue into her slit, dragging it up to the hardened bud, licking over and around it vigorously. She inhales sharply and throws her head back.

"Oh, God, Elvis." She runs her hand in his hair. He groans, but doesn't stop working his mouth on her. He moves his tongue in circles and then in a hard line over the top of her clit, keeping a steady rhythm. Her hips buck forward into his face and he slides a finger into her, tickling the spot that makes her moan out loud.

"Fuck!" Her back arches as her orgasm builds quickly. She feels herself on the edge, ready to spill over into an ocean of pleasure.

"Come on, baby. You're right there. Let go for me." He goes back to licking her with a fervor he's never expressed before. He's never been so invested in a woman's pleasure but he wants to give Vivian more than she's ever experienced. And he does. In that moment the dam breaks and she cries out as the waves of ecstasy crest and break inside her over and over again.

"Yes! Fuck! Yessssss!" She moans with her teeth gritted, her body quaking with the aftershock of the most unbelievable orgasm.

When she finally comes down, she sits up and grabs him, pulling him into a deep kiss, her tongue diving into his mouth feverishly.

"I'm so... in love... with you..." She whispers in between kisses, her hands running down his chest. She stands him up and he looks down at her, cupping her chin in his hand.

"No, baby. I'm in love with you." She smiles and leans forward, holding his cock in one hand, pulling his foreskin back and running her tongue around the tip. He leans back, his lips parted slightly and his eyes closed. "God, that feels good."

She tries not to smile as she pulls him fully into her mouth, letting him hit the back of her throat. She buries her nose in the hair at the base of him, swallowing around him. Then, she begins to move up and down as he thrusts slowly. She puts her hands on his hips and works him gently, moaning. He grunts and takes a handful of her hair.

"Viv, baby, you have to stop. I'm not finished making love to you."

She pulls back off of him and looks up, crawling backwards onto the bed. He climbs on top of her, kissing her neck and chest up to her mouth.

"I am yours, Vivian. Body and soul." He lines his cock up with her dripping entrance and teases her clit for a second. "I want to love you like this forever."

"Please, Elvis. Never stop." He nods and pushes into her.

"I won't, baby." He whispers as he slides in as deep as he'll go, grunting when he feels her tightness around him. "You were made for me."

She whimpers as he fills her, pulling back and pushing into her again. Neither of them will ever get enough of the way it feels to be connected like this. They fit together like a lock and key and the pleasure hits them both at the same time.

"Yes, Elvis..." Her back arches as he continues his sensual rhythm of sliding out and filling her, his hips rolling into her over and over and over. Their sweat begins to mix as their bodies meet in burning kisses, breast to chest, stomach to stomach, hip to hip, and thigh to thigh. His hand runs up and down her, squeezing and pinching softly where it pleases them both until it settles on her hip, holding her in place as his thrusting picks up. He's still moving slowly, pounding her deeply, slamming her with his cock both passionately and lovingly.

"Oh, God, Viv, I love the way you feel." He sets his head on her shoulder, knowing his climax is coming fast. "I don't want this to be over."

She takes his face in her hands and kisses the tip of his nose.

"This will never be over. I'm yours until the end. Let go, baby. I'm not going anywhere." He whimpers softly and peppers her face with kisses as he goes back to pumping into her. His pace increases and her breasts bounce as he moves inside her harder and harder. He feels his orgasm building in his cock and he knows he's ready to explode. He slams into her two more times and then cries out as he shudders.

"Fuck, yes, Viv!" He feels his release wash over him as he cums hard inside her, emptying himself as the tsunami-force ecstasy crashes through him. He's frozen inside her, cock throbbing until he's completely spent. She whines through her own orgasm as he collapses on top of her, careful not to crush her with his weight. He slides out of her gently and lays next to her, pulling her into the crook of his arm where she fits perfectly. She reaches up and pushes his sweaty hair back off of his forehead and then runs her fingertips down the side of his face. He grabs her fingers and kisses them, looking down at her. She smiles up at him and whispers. "Je t'aimes toujours avec tout mon coeur."

"You know I don't speak French, baby." He chuckles.

"It means 'I love you always with all of my heart.' It's something I was saving to say to the man that set me on fire. And it's you. I burn for you, Elvis. I always have and I always will." He smiles, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I will make you mine forever as soon as I can. You are the one who my soul loves. Viv, tell me this is us, from now on."

"Always and forever, Elvis."

"Always and forever."

******

A lot happens for Elvis and Vivian through 1972 and 1973. Vivian moves into Graceland and they christen every room in the house. Then, Elvis films Elvis on Tour in April and Vivian is there. He plays at Madison Square Garden in June and Vivian is there. He goes on tour again and still, Viv is there. Then, he does the Aloha show in Hawaii and she is there for that too. Both of their divorces are finalized in 1973 and they're there for each other. By Thanksgiving, Elvis has a 10-carat ring on her finger and by Christmas they're married.

He records an album at Stax that won't be released until 1975, but there's a song on it that makes him think of Vivian so much he almost cries. He saves it for the right moment, though.

So when she comes to him on New Year's Eve with a note from the doctor confirming her pregnancy, he knows exactly what to do. He pulls her into a warm embrace, kissing the top of her head. Slowly they begin to sway and he sings:

The first time I saw you I knew I was hooked on somebody other than me

And the first time I held you, your soft lips and blue eyes

Were as far as my eyes could see

Yes, here in my arms I knew I had found the reason that I'm livin' for

And I felt the feeling, such a wonderful feeling

That I'd never felt before

Baby, you're love's been a long time comin'

Baby your love's got a hold on me

Baby your love's sure got me hummin'

Baby your love's been a long time comin'

******

Fin

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @atleastpleasetelephone @burnthheparaphilia @cinnamoroll-things

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Elvis-mania”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

Warning: mentions of COVID-19

MASTERLIST

COVID-19 took the world by storm and what was meant to just be some months in Australia became almost a year. Austin took this to his advantage to get more into the Elvis role, I supported him with any research he needed and with his weight gain, his accent. At first it was really enjoyable, I mean, dancing and singing to Elvis’ songs in the middle of the night, watching his movies and performances, watching Austin trying to recreate them. But then it started to get more serious, he started to go method.

I wasn’t a fan of method acting, I’ve never tried it before but I did have some co-stars that did it and it was like hell on earth, I’d like to think that he was going for a Marlon Brando route but it was starting to feel like Jared Leto when he played the Joker.

“Sit still!” I laughed as he didn’t stop moving around while I placed the hair dye on his brownish hair, he wasn’t a natural dark-haired man, as a boy his hair was this beautiful blonde.

“It smells disgusting, God, how I miss your hairdresser.” He said with a chuckle, his voice was a little thicker, a bit of a southern drawl to it.

“See? and you called me ridiculous whenever I went with her. I don’t know what she uses but it smells delicious.” I had my hairdresser back in California, she did my more trickier hairstyles, like the beehive ponytail and she did dye Austin’s hair black a couple of times before.

“Or maybe we were just high from all the chemicals, who knows?” He laughed again, yeah, maybe we did not ventilate well enough right now, I moved towards the window and opened it, not remembering that my gloves were pretty much still with hair dye, I stained that whole window up. To this day I still remember how much the landlord charged us for that one. After 30 minutes, we both kneeled beside the bathtub, I started rinsing his hair.

“Baby, you gonna drown me or something!” He said to me, if the water wasn’t too cold then it was too hot, or I was too aggressive with the rinsing.

“Then so be it!” I said to him, shampooing his hair.

Afterwards I even dried it and styled it, he saw himself in the mirror again, he finally had jet black hair again after months of just having this weird combination between black and blondish hair.

“I don’t know— I feel a little silly. Like an impersonator.” He had a grimace as he moved his hair side to side.

“You look really good. I promise.” I smiled at him and then kissed his cheek. “You can do this. Now let’s watch Viva Las Vegas for the fifth time, I’m finally getting the Ann-Margret dance.”

We did our research and everything, we knew little facts about Elvis, he liked knowing about Priscilla, I loved Priscilla. Austin found out this really interesting fact about Elvis and Priscilla’s bedroom time. As we were in bed, trying to spice things up.

“Wait, baby. We oughta try something new.” He said as he pulled away and got up from bed, he rummaged through a box of cameras we had, disposable ones, vintage ones, instants. He bought out an instax camera, with its film. “So— I read that Elvis and Priscilla did this and I wanted to try it out.”

“I’m up for it.” I smiled as I took off my nightgown coverup.

We started taking Polaroids, he made me pose, I was his model for the night. He grabbed my chin tenderly and moved it to the right direction, he got on top of me taking picture after picture. We even tried dress up, him as a policeman and doctor, I was a secretary, a maid, a teacher, we tried everything in the book.

He’d get in between my legs, kissing me all over, taking Polaroids while he was at it, taking Polaroids while I was at it, going down on him.

It was magical but it did make me feel ashamed whenever I looked at my purchase history and saw all the Polaroid films I bought during this time. We spent hundred of dollars in just the films for the instax.

I had a really good time with Austin but it didn’t really last long, until he submerged himself totally on Elvis. At first it was the voice and then it was the food, then it was his behavior. I couldn’t even remember the last time he slept with me. All I heard was Elvis, Elvis, Elvis— and not in the good way. Look, I understood him and everything but it was making me go nuts, I’m a big Elvis fan but he was just going bonkers. I lost count on how many books he read or how many hour he spent looking at Elvis stuff, he barely even spent time with Lori. I wanted to die whenever he called me ‘woman’ or ‘satnin’.

There were many times when he basically shut himself out, in the bedroom or the beach, it was like he was trying to torture me nonstop. I felt so useless because I wasn’t able to help him either. Whenever I did try to help him, he’d yell at me.

“Baby, please— you need to sleep.” I knocked on the office door, he had been there all day.

“Don’t bother me, woman.” He said sternly, I, being the stubborn I was, tried to get him out of there.

“Baby— you don’t need to indulge so much in Elvis. You should really come to sleep.” I knocked on the door once again, all I heard was silence afterwards but then the door opened aggressively.

“Are ya deaf or something?! Woman, I don’t want to hear another mouth comin’ out of your damn mouth. Ya hear me?” He said very aggressively, even he was taken aback. “Baby, you gotta let me do my damn job, so go to sleep, I’ll catch up to you later.” He dismissed me with his hand.

The king sized bed felt really empty without him there, cuddling me, kissing my head or forehead, we barely even slept on the same bed so in those cases, I’d bring Lori with me and hug her all night. I woke up to every sudden movement, thinking it was Austin but it was just my imagination playing cruel tricks on me. And whenever we did have alone time in bed, I tried wearing my cutest nightgowns, I even wore perfume to bed, Miss Dior, I adored that scent and so did Austin. God, I even wore my makeup to bed!

“Hey.” I whispered while I got in bed besides him, his back leaning against the headboard as he read Train to Memphis, I started kissing his neck softly, rubbing his bicep.

“Calm down, satnin.” He said, not taking his eyes off the book. “Ya know I’m trying to pay attention to this.” He kept on reading and reading in silence until he finally spoke up. “There a thousand women who would actually care to help and listen to me while I do my damn job. You gonna sit and listen or not?”

I stopped, I laid back and stared at him, storms in my eyes. I was trying everything to keep him looking at me yet nothing worked.

“But-“

“But nothing, woman.” He said, there was silence again, he kept on reading and mumbling the words. I sat up on the bed, hugging my knees very subtly.

“I can’t stand it! It’s driving me crazy! I don’t want to hear you anymore!” I yelled out in frustration, I even closed my eyes.

“I see a mad woman.” He said on that pretentious mumble.

“No. A woman with needs that needs to be desired. You can have your Elvis books and me too.”

He looked at me and without even saying anything, she went back to reading his book, leaving me feeling humiliated.

I’ve been dying to write this part— be prepared to see our Cynthia suffer.