#austin!elvis imagine

[thegettingbyp2]

I Never Liked Him Anyway

Summary: Reader comforts Austin!Elvis after he fires the Colonel

You were up and out of your seat the moment you heard Elvis yelling, trying to make your way backstage as inconspicuously as possible. You’d noticed that something was wrong with him before the show, drinking more than usual and taking a few more pills than normal, but he’d assured you that he was fine. It wasn’t until he started slurring his words and wavering that you realised just how wrong things were.

A rush of anger filled your body when you heard the things that Elvis was saying; about how the Colonel had been lying to him all these years, hindering his career just so he could earn more money. You hadn’t told Elvis about your feelings towards the Colonel because you had seen how grateful towards the Colonel Elvis was and you didn’t want to ruin that for him, however, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief when you heard Elvis tell the Colonel that he was fired.

When you finally made your way backstage, you saw Elvis on his own, on his knees in the middle of the stage and you didn’t waste a single second in rushing over to him, sinking to your knees and wrapping your arms around him the best you could.

‘You okay, baby?’ you asked softly, threading your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly as your other hand began to smooth up and down his arm.

‘Years,’ was all he said in reply, his voice rough but distant, his eyes screwed tightly closed. ‘Years I could have been touring the world, taking my music to my fans everywhere and he stopped all because he couldn’t leave the goddamn country.’ His voice had risen in volume as he spoke and you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

‘I know,’ you replied sadly, knowing that there wasn’t anything you could say to him to make things better at the moment.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, you just being there for him until you felt him calm down a bit. ‘Hey, do you want to know something?’ you asked, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

‘Always, baby,’ he replied, picking your hand up and smoothing his thumbs over your knuckles.

‘I never liked him anyway,’ you whispered, making Elvis’ body vibrate with chuckles. He leaned back to sit on the floor, bringing you into his lap.

‘Is that so?’

‘Yeah, I didn’t like the way he seemed to have some kind of control over you. And I know he didn’t like me.’

‘You’re not wrong there, baby,’ he said softly, ‘he didn’t like how I’d always run everything by you, didn’t like how I always wanted your opinion on everything.’

‘Well, then, it sounds to me that you did the right thing by getting rid of him, huh,’ you said, tilting his chin playfully, making Elvis smile softly at you.

‘It definitely is, baby,’ he murmured, leaning down to press his lips tenderly to yours.

‘How about we head upstairs, jump in a bath and try and forget all this, at least for the rest of the night?’ you suggested, tugging on his jumpsuit slightly.

‘I think that sounds amazing, baby,’ he said, standing up before helping you up, throwing his arm around your shoulder and kissing the side of your head as you left the stage.

[sissylittlefeather]

Hi friends! I wrote another fic. I'm just churning these out right now because I'm obsessed 😂

You really have to suspend reality for this one. Like, just let your imagination have at it and try not to think about how it would actually work out. Also, it's based on a scene from the movie, so it's probably more Austin!Elvis, but you could pretend it really happened with EP if you wanted to. The world is your oyster. Dream on.

This is a continuation of Baby What's Your Name?, but you don't necessarily have to read that one first. Basically, all my fics exist in the same timeline with the same Elvis & reader characters.

Warnings: F/m p in v, fingering, unprotected sex, public sex, cops?, smut, cussing, MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: this takes place after the riot at the Russwood Park show in the Elvis (2022) movie. Austin!Elvis x reader (y/n). You've come to comfort Elvis after they shove him in the cop car.

Always, Honey

You sit and watch in horror as the police officers drag Elvis from the stage. He's finally done it. He's gone too far and the people in charge stepped in. For a minute or two, you sit there in shock at what's happening with your hand covering your open mouth.

You need to get to him, but you know it won't be easy. You're not there in any official capacity. His parents don't know about you. The Colonel has suspicions that Elvis has been seeing someone, but he doesn't know who you are. No one knows that you've been with Elvis every time you could since that first night together when you threw your panties on the stage. What started with lust has turned into a relationship and you realize right now in this moment that you love him. Your worry for him makes that clear. You have to find a way to get to him.

You shake off the shock of the moment and stand up. You were sitting toward the back of the concert, so you can see the squad car at the back of the ballpark. That's where they will be headed. You take off in that direction, away from all the other fans who are running toward him. You make it to the car. As you stand there trying to decide what to do next, you see the crowd coming through the gates, and the officers dragging Elvis are at the center. He's yelling to his parents to get in the car they're being taken to, trying to keep himself clear of policemen and fans alike. You pretend to be just another fan as they shove him in the backseat and close the door. You're standing on the other side of the car when actual fans press in around you, screaming and grabbing at the car. You manage to get your face down to the window and knock on it, just praying that he'll look over in your direction. You pull on the door, but it's locked. You knock again on the window and yell as loud as you can, "E!"

He hears your voice amidst the chaos and turns, seeing you in the window. There's no one in the front seat yet, so he's able to unlock the door and open it just enough for you to slip into the backseat with him. He pulls you close to him and grabs your face with both hands.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, E, I'm fine. Are you okay?" He relaxes a little, knowing that you aren't hurt.

"Man, that was... I'm pissed, but yeah, I'm not hurt or anything." He pulls you in for a kiss. He's dripping in sweat, but you don't care. This isn't the first time he's kissed you after a show. Usually you're squeezed somewhere backstage together for a quick moment before he's whisked away to wherever he's supposed to be post-performance.

Just then, though, the front doors of the car open and the cops slide into their positions on the front seat. The one in the passenger seat turns to look back at Elvis, glaring with a hatred you've never seen before. Elvis glares back with the same intensity. It takes a minute for the cop to even realize you're back there.

"What the hell is she doing in here? Get her out! You can't have a damn fan girl in the backseat when you're getting arrested!"

"IF SHE GETS OUT, I GET OUT." Elvis yells. You can see his hands shaking with rage. "SHE IS NOT A FAN. SHE IS MY GIRL." Your head whips around and your eyes lock on him. That's the first time he's acknowledged what you might be to each other.

The cop opens his mouth to yell back, but the other officer cuts in.

"-- you can't open the door right now. There's too many people out there and we need to go. She's going to have to stay where she is." He drives off slowly, careful to not run over any of the fans who are mobbing the car.

"Well... just... don't touch her." The passenger seat cop growls at Elvis, who defiantly throws his arm around you.

"I'll do what I damn well please. What are you gonna do? Arrest me?"

The cop's face goes beet red and he turns around in his seat to face front. Elvis plants a kiss on the side of your head and apologizes quietly.

"I'm sorry about all this, honey." He's got one hand around your shoulder and the other on your thigh. You look up into his eyes.

"Your girl, huh?" You try to keep your smile from giving away the elation you feel in your heart. Yep. You absolutely are in love with him. He gives you a soft smile.

"Yeah, baby, that alright with you?"

"Yeah, if that's what you want."

"If it means you're all mine, then it's what I want, kid." Your heart flip flops in your chest.

"And are you all mine?" You shouldn't have asked that. You know he belongs to his fans. You prepare yourself for him to say no without saying no.

"Always, honey." He leans in to kiss you again, this time with his lips parted. You let your tongue explore his as you turn toward him and move your legs across his lap. The hand that was on your thigh moves back to your hip as he pulls you in to him as close as you can get without straight up straddling him. He leans you back in the seat until he's on top of you.

"E. There are COPS in the front seat." You whisper with your teeth gritted. You feel the desire starting to build up between your legs, but you know this cannot happen here.

"I know, honey, I just want to make my girl feel good. Can I do that?" Your resolve melts. Let the cops watch, for all you care in this moment.

He sits up and slides his hands up under your dress, pulling your panties down your legs and over your shoes. You feel his hand crawl back up your thigh to your center. He uses his thumb to make circles on the spot that drives you so crazy. Then, he dips his fingers into you, where you're already wet and waiting for him. He uses some of your wetness to lubricate what his thumb is doing. It gets harder and harder to stay quiet as he works, so you bite your bottom lip and close your eyes.

"Damn, baby. You look so good right now." He whispers, not stopping what his hand is doing. Your heart is beating so fast and your breathing is heavy. You know your climax is coming and you're just praying that you'll stay quiet and the cops won't turn around until after you finish. He moves his thumb faster and faster, his fingers rubbing against your inside spot. You let out a small whine as the waves of ecstasy ripple through you. You look at Elvis and he smiles as he feels the throbbing and wetness on his fingers.

Almost on cue, the cop in the passenger side turns back to the backseat as you arrive at your destination. You shoot up in your seat and Elvis clears his throat, pulling his hand from under your skirt. You can't tell if the cop is clueless, or if he's just ignoring what happened so he doesn't have to talk about it. The driver pulls around to the back of the police station to avoid any press that might be gathered at the front.

"We have to go inside and get things arranged to bring you inside quietly. Arresting a movie star is harder than you think. Young lady, come with us." You start to move toward the door, but Elvis grabs your hand.

"I told you, officer, if she gets out, I get out. She's staying with me." He says it with so much authority that even the cop relents. He closes the door and both officers walk up to the back of the building. The second they're out of view, you turn back to Elvis and undo his pants, freeing his erection.

"Honey, what..?" He looks at you puzzled until he figures out what you're doing. He whips his head from side to side looking out both windows for paparazzi or cops or anyone at all while you hike up your skirt and straddle him. As you slide down onto him, your eyes meet and you moan in unison. You know you probably only have a few minutes, so you work fast, bouncing on him vigorously.

"Oh shit, baby." Elvis groans into your ear as his pleasure is released. Between the build up, watching you orgasm, and the thrill of maybe getting caught, he didn't last long at all. You push his wet hair back off of his sweaty forehead and kiss him. He's about to apologize for coming so quickly when you notice the cops coming back out. You jump off of him and sit back in your seat while he puts himself away and wipes off as much evidence as possible.

"I hope it's kinda dark in there." He laughs and holds your hand as the cops open his door. He turns back to you and gives you one last kiss.

"I'll see you soon, baby." They take him out of the car and cuff him as the other officer helps you out of the car. When you get inside, they let you use the phone to call Margie to come get you. It's not until you're in her car that you realize you've left your panties in the cop car. You giggle. Another pair of panties lost because of Elvis Presley...

[austinsmutler]

The Wonder of You - Austin!Elvis x Reader

Summary: While on your honeymoon in Hawaii, you and Elvis decide to try something new in the bedroom: taking photographs. You're a little bit unsure at first but Elvis is keen to show you how beautiful and truly sexy you are.

What you’ll like: Kinky Elvis, newlywed vibes, emotional connection while also just getting railed, erotic photography, Elvis appreciating every inch of you

Words: 1,600

Warnings: None, but there is some consensual smut. Minors DNI.

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want!)

You giggled as Elvis carried you over the threshold into the small hotel room. Small, because you had had a private wedding at Graceland and wanted to keep things private, if only for a week before he’d be back on tour. That meant a small honeymoon, far away from prying eyes.

So, one private plane trip to Hawaii later, here you were. The hotel was small, but the staff were known for their discretion, and for the first time since… ever, you and Elvis were alone. No Colonel, no screaming fans, no Memphis mafia. Just  husband and wife.

“Elvis! Put me down!”

“Okay,” he grinned as he threw you on the bed. You screamed and bounced before scowling up at him.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Definitely.” He smirked, framing you with his fingers. “Mrs Presley, you look like a pretty lil painting.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. Elvis turned and locked the door, and you couldn’t help but rake your gaze over his body. You’d traveled in simple clothing to avoid suspicion: you in a sky-blue button-up dress, him in black trousers and a matching shirt that was barely buttoned down, the hair on his chest visible. You wanted to feel that body against yours, wanted so many things only he could give you. 

Elvis turned and saw you squeeze your thighs together. He smirked, before a thought occurred to him and he bit his lip. 

“What is it?”

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to try.” 

You sat up and beckoned him forward with a finger, leading him down for a kiss. “Tell me what you want.”

He made short work of your dress, stripping you down to your lingerie in minutes. While the dress was simple, your wedding lingerie made you look like a winning lottery ticket. White lace with black detailing, shimmering with rhinestones with every shaky breath you took. 

Elvis stood above you, taking in your whole body before he leaned down and whispered, “I want to photograph you like this, honey. Just like this.”

You shuddered as hot hands trailed down your bare sides. Need shot straight to your core, pulsing in tune with your rapid heartbeat. 

“Okay.” You whispered. 

“Really?” Elvis pulled back with an almost boyish grin on your face. You bit your lip and nodded.

“Anything for my husband.”

 Elvis pulled away to rummage through your suitcase. Light filtered in through the hotel window, bathing the room in a golden sunset glow. Elvis found the camera and turned around, humming as he took in every inch of your body. 

“Mmm, My wife is so beautiful.” 

“Elvis.” You gasped out a laugh, but it did nothing to hide the flush of your cheeks. The darkness in his eyes was intense enough, but with the camera that hovered over you, unblinking, you could combust at any moment. 

“Look right into the lens, baby.” Elvis breathed, and you heard the click of the camera as he captured you, laid out on the navy blue hotel sheets. You bit your lip and he took another photo. Then another. And another. 

Elvis focused all his attention on you, hands drifting over your bare skin, caressing your sides, your thighs. Positioning the blue satin to his liking. Snap. Snap. Snap. A shiver ran down your spine with every photo. 

“Open your mouth just a little, baby. That’s it, you’re beautiful.” Elvis murmured, hardly blinking as he drank you in. 

You grew wetter with every click of the shutter, much to your surprise. This was not something you’d considered before- cameras were for public and family events, not capturing the most intimate moments of life. E

ven wearing lingerie, this was the most naked you’d ever felt. The space between you and your new husband scorched your skin, goosebumps rising as he positioned his body over yours for a close-up. 

Elvis was hard already, grinding slowly against you, capturing your every reaction as his length rubbed against you. The gasp you made when he pulled your bra down to tweak a nipple, the sigh when his tongue found the sweet spot on your neck and he sucked, turning the skin deep purple. 

You probably weren’t even in focus for half of these, Elvis’ attention focused in front of the camera instead of behind it. But the clicking shutter still urged you both on, pulling a moan from low in your throat.

“You’re so beautiful.” He put down the camera to take your face in his hands, exploring your mouth with his tongue as if for the first time. His fingers hooked your bra strings, starting to slide them down your shoulders. “Can I take these off, baby?”

You knew what he was really asking, and nodded shyly.

“If you’re not comfortable, we can stop.”

You hooked your hands around his neck and pulled him down, wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him closer. “I want it. Please, don’t make me beg.” 

He purred against your neck. “Maybe later.”

Elvis sat up in bed, taking you with him so that you were on top. “Go sit on the end of the bed.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion, but with a glance there, you understood. At the foot of the bed was an enormous mirror that spanned almost the length of the wall. 

You sat. Waited. Held your breath.

“Spread your legs.” Elvis had the camera back in hand now, the clicking of the shutter resuming. He kissed down your neck and slid the bra from your shoulders before tossing it to the other side of the room. 

You both groaned as his fingers found your wetness, rubbing you through the lace. “You like this, hmm Mrs Presley?”

You could only nod, reaching up to hook an arm around the back of his neck. “Please, E, please-”

What were you begging for? You couldn’t say. Couldn’t think as a finger dipped inside your panties and slid inside with no resistance. Before you could think of anything, two fingers curled inside you, hitting your spot with practiced ease. 

“This what you want, baby?” 

You whined, bucking your hips as his fingers stilled, waiting for an answer. You slapped his arm and Elvis chuckled. 

“Is that a no?”

“Please. Please make me cum, I need to-” Words dissolved into a moan as Elvis redoubled his efforts, bringing you torturously close to the edge before his fingers stilled again. 

“Why?” Tears sprang up behind your eyes. Elvis grasped your chin and turned you to face the mirror, where his eyes were black with lust as he scanned over your body. 

“Because, wife, when you come tonight, it’s going to be because I’m inside you. Fucking you. I could get you there with my fingers right now, but I’d rather use my cock. What do you think?”

He punctuated the question with a few slow pumps of his fingers that left you bucking your hips, desperate for more contact. 

“Fuck me.” 

Click. 

Heat surged through you as you thought of the photo he’d just taken: you were almost completely naked while he was still fully-clothed, two fingers knuckle-deep inside you. Your mouth open and panting, legs spread obscenely wide while he nibbled on your earlobe, whispering filthy things in your ear. 

Elvis spun the two of you around so you were on your back on the bed, him kneeling between your legs, taking the white lace of your panties between his teeth, slowly tugging down your last item of clothing and flinging it over his shoulder. 

His hot breath crested over your clit and had you tangling your hands in his hair, tugging desperately. “Please, you don’t need to- to-” 

You stuttered as his tongue licked a slow trail to your clit, hips bucking as he set to spoiling you with his mouth. He slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, never once taking his mouth from you until your whole body quivered. 

Elvis sat back to remove his shirt and trousers, which joined your underwear in a pile on the floor. 

He knelt upright on the mattress, gripping your hips to pull you onto his cock. You both groaned as he sank into you fully, your legs wrapping around his hips and digging into his ass. If you’d stammered before, you were completely incoherent, unhinged as Elvis tortured you with slow strokes at first, before building up until the only sound that filled the room was slapping flesh. 

“This what you wanted?” Elvis reached down to squeeze your breast. “This how you like it?”

“Deeper. Please, deeper. I n-need to feel you.” 

Elvis growled and grabbed your hips with bruising force, hitting somewhere inside you’d never felt before. Everything else in the hotel melted away, your only anchor to reality was the soft sheets fisted in your palms as Elvis pounded into you relentlessly. 

“Need you to come for me, baby.” Elvis’ blue eyes were dark with lust, body slick with sweat as he showed no signs of slowing. 

You could do nothing but nod as he sped up, thumb pressing on your clit until you came in a blaze of white light and moans. Your whole body shook as Elvis followed you over the edge, releasing inside you. 

He slowly pulled out and collapsed beside you, panting. Neither of you could speak as you caught your breath, still clenching around nothing. 

When you could speak again, you turned to smile at your husband. “Well, that was a good start. What do you want to do now?”Elvis rolled on top of you with a growl, burying his face in your neck. “Mrs Presley, we are just getting started.”

[drtyelvisfantasy]

Prom Night Serenade🪩🎀

Parings: Austin!Elvis x reader

Summary: You and Elvis share a special night together at the schools senior prom

50s Austin!Elvis

Song for the fic: That’s My Desire

🪩🎀🪩🎀

The excitement buzzed in the air as the night of the school prom approached. You couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and anticipation. As you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your pink ruffled dress, you couldn't help but wonder how the night would unfold.

Just as you were about to head out, the sound of a familiar voice reached your ears. "Ready to go, darlin'?"

You turned around to see Elvis Presley standing at the doorway, looking beautiful in a pink suit that perfectly complemented his charm and matched your dress. A wide smile spread across your face as you took in his handsome appearance.

"Elvis!" you exclaimed, your heart fluttering. "You look amazing!"

He walked over to you, his eyes sparkling with adoration. "And you, my dear, are the most beautiful person in the room."

With a gentle touch, he held out his hand, waiting for you to take it. You gladly accepted, feeling a surge of warmth as his fingers intertwined with yours.

As you arrived at the prom venue, the grandeur of the decorations left you in awe. The ballroom twinkled with fairy lights, and the dance floor beckoned with its lively music. Couples swayed and twirled, their laughter and chatter filling the air.

Elvis led you onto the dance floor, his confident steps guiding your every move. The world around you seemed to melt away as you got lost in the music and the joy of being in his arms.

Together, you danced with grace and passion, the rhythm of the music syncing perfectly with your hearts. Every turn, every dip was a testament to the connection you shared. The way he held you close made you feel safe and loved, as if nothing else in the world mattered.

As the night went on, Elvis whispered sweet words in your ear, his voice a melody that only you could hear. "You're the most incredible person I've ever met, darlin'. I'm so lucky to have you by my side."

You blushed, a smile gracing your lips. "And I'm lucky to have you, Elvis. Dancing with you feels like a dream come true."

As the prom came to a close, the last song played, and it was your favourite song, “That’s My Desire” by Dion. The couples around you swayed slowly. Elvis pulled you close, his eyes locked with yours. "May I have this last dance, my beautiful girl?"

Your heart skipped a beat as you nodded, never wanting the night to end. Together, you swayed to the gentle melody, cherishing each moment as if time stood still.

In that final dance, surrounded by the love and the magic of the prom night, you knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of dances with the one and only love of your life, Elvis Presley.

🪩🎀🪩🎀

[pxnsneverland]

Beauty and The Boss | austin!elvis x oc (part 11)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana’s most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he’s just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she’s on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 1729

warnings/notes: Gun Violence

Chapter 11

I'd be lying if I claimed I wasn't worried about my father's impending visit. I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to wiggle my way out of his hands this time. There will be no rebellion or blackmail to save me or Elvis. This meeting would put a stop to everything, regardless of who won. I stayed close to Elvis while he and the rest of his mafia armed themselves with as many of Elvis' guns as they could conceal on their bodies. It was like witnessing troops train for battle. Elvis approached me, a fully loaded handgun in his hands.

He extended it to me. “Now, darlin’, I don’t know how this is gonna go. But I’ll be damned if I let him take you away from here no matter what happens to me.” He took my already trembling hand and placed the gun in it. “I’ll protect you with my life and you know that. But if Walker manages to fire first…you need to defend yourself. I know he’s your Daddy–”

“Not anymore.” I slid my hand around the gun's grip and tucked it into the waistline of my pants. Despite my quivering palms, the rest of me was rock solid. Even before I met Elvis, Daddy had been dead to me for a long time. I could pull the trigger if the time came. At least, that's what I told myself.

Elvis kissed both of my hands on the back. “When all this is over, we’re gonna have a Hollywood weddin’.” He grinned, but I could sense the anxiety he was attempting to conceal.

I smiled back and placed my hand on his cheek. “We sure will.”

~

2 hours appeared to fly away before Elvis received a call from the front gate. I knew it was time when his jaw clenched. He hung up the phone, nodding to the mafia guys who had been eagerly waiting for Elvis' signal. Elvis led me to his office, followed by his guys. When my father arrived at the door, just two people remained to accompany him in. Coming down the corridor, I could hear his dominating footfall. I took a long breath to calm my nerves, which were becoming more agitated as the steps became louder. The door flung wide, revealing my father and his mafia associates, men I had grown up with since childhood. Men who were previously like uncles were suddenly total strangers standing before me, staring at me with the same disdain they had for Elvis.

Elvis was absolutely disregarded by Daddy. He gave me a cheeky look as he glanced at me. His gaze slid down until it came to rest on my hand, which was lying on the outside of my thigh. His lower lip trembled. “Well…” he said slowly, “I guess my little gift was an early wedding present, wasn’t it?”

“You’re a sick man, Walker.” Elvis pretended he hadn't heard Daddy's remark. “You knew she would be in that car with me. You were willin’ to let your own daughter die just to prove a point?”

“My daughter made her choice.” While conversing to Elvis, he kept his gaze on me. “But once I get rid of you, well, her choice won’t really matter, will it?”

Elvis' jaw clenched. “I have no complaints about resolvin’ this peacefully. I’ll forget about the money you stole and your debt to me, but you have to leave Laura Jean here with me and never contact her again.”

“What kind of father would I be if I left my daughter here with you and your riff raff?” Daddy narrowed his eyes. “Especially when your bloodline has a history of killing mine.”

What was he on about? Until I met Elvis, I had never heard of the Presley family or their links to the mafia. And I knew Daddy would never miss an opportunity to tell me about another mafia family that was our rival. He had to be lying. Just trying to get something going inside of me so I'd make a mistake and he'd have the upper hand.

I discovered my own voice before Elvis had an opportunity to discover his. “What are you talkin’ about, Daddy?”

Daddy gave me a frightening smile, as though everything was going as planned. “You know your Mama died in a hit that was meant for me. You should know, darlin’. It’s his fault you don’t have a Mama anymore. Or should I say it's his Daddy’s fault.”

My cheeks heated, and I felt as if the world was whirling around me. My mouth got dry, and drums began to pound in my mind. Vernon Presley was the reason my life had crumbled. He was the reason my father saw me as a property rather than a daughter. His thugs had murdered my mother, an innocent, charming woman who had done nothing wrong but fall in love with the wrong guy. The name Presley was the boogieman I'd been looking for all these years, the thing that kept me awake at night hoping and praying for justice for a mother who died much too young.

“Laura Jean…” Elvis began in that lovely, delicate voice I had grown to adore, the one that was just meant for me..

My hands were quicker than my thinking, and I snatched the revolver from my belt and pointed it at Elvis. The Memphis Mafia attempted to make a move towards me, but Elvis stopped them and told them to keep still. Angry tears streamed down my cheeks, and all I could see through my clouded vision was red. “Did you know?”  I said, my voice shaking.

Elvis raised his hands. “Darlin’---”

“DID YOU KNOW?!” I yelled and removed the gun's safety. My finger was poised above the trigger.

Elvis' expression softened as he gazed at me with loving eyes. I have no doubt I could have shot him right there and he wouldn't have stopped loving me. I was blinded by the wrath, anguish, and heartache I'd been harboring since I was 12 years old. Elvis released both of his hands. “I didn’t know. But I knew Daddy had ordered some hits before he got jailed. He called it protectin’ me from the nearby bosses who would come sniffin’ around once word got out about me takin’ his place. When you told me about your Mama and with Louisiana bein’ so close, I—I thought maybe, but I didn’t want it to be true.”

The hammering in my brain became more intense, and the wrath within demanded blood for blood. I could hear my father laughing behind me. “See, baby girl? That’s why I’ve kept you so close, tried so hard to get you away from this boy. He doesn’t love you. He’s just tryin’ to finish what his father started.”

Mama's face flashed across my head like a movie reel. Her smiling face saying my name as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. Her hugging me and singing to me only to serve the purpose of making me smile and cheering me up. Her teaching me to play the piano and her bell-like giggles when I hit the wrong key. The images then altered. I saw Elvis's face. Elvis smiling at me and whispering my name to me in the breeze. Elvis cradling me in his arms and tenderly sang me to sleep. Elvis teaching me to play the guitar and his boisterous laughter when I couldn't figure it out. My thoughts abruptly cleared, allowing me to see Elvis's face directly in front of me. That was right. That first night when I watched Elvis perform, I rediscovered the affection I had lost from Mama. His love, our love, was as precious and beautiful as Mama's love for me. Elvis was nothing like his father, and I was nothing like mine.

I spun around, my gun now aimed squarely at my father. He also indicated for his men to take a step back. His amusement was unwavering. A memory went through my head of Daddy teaching me how to shoot a gun. If you aim at something with this, you better always intend on killing it, he had said. “What? Are you going to shoot me now? Your own father?” He laughed. “You’re not going to kill me, Laura Jean. As much as you hate to admit it, you need me. You can’t survive without me.”

I shook my head. “I haven’t needed you for a long time, Daddy.”

“You know that’s a lie. Look where you’ve ended up, look how far you’ve fallen.” He extended his hand. “Come with me, sweetheart. Let us be the family we were meant to be.”

I'd heard him talk like this before. He'd only used that voice with Mama. A sincere voice that made you believe he meant what he said. But there was something odd about it. The genuineness felt distorted and untrue. “Leave, Daddy.” 

“You’re coming with me, you little brat! Whether you want to or not!” He pulled out his handgun and pointed it at Elvis.

I didn't think about it. I simply reacted. In my haze, I heard a loud gunshot and had no idea who had shot first. I cast a brief glance towards Elvis. There was no blood or evidence of harm. He appeared unharmed and content. I carefully turned my head to see where my father had recently stood. He was now lying on the ground, blood soaking his costly suit from a gunshot wound to the chest. As I approached him, he was struggling for oxygen and choking on his own blood. His men just watched for a mob leader who fell quickly lost respect. I stood over him, his astonished and wounded gaze was returned with one of indifference.

I knelt next to him. “I want you to know two things before you die. That your daughter who you treated like an expensive object is the one who killed you. The other thing I want you to know…is that one day soon, your daughter is going to hold the name of the family who ruined your life.”  I kissed and placed my fingertips on his brow before rising to my feet. I aimed the gun at him once more. “Goodbye Daddy.” I fired, the bullet striking him between the eyes.

Stay tuned for part 11!! Click HERE to view!

[bluephoenixgirl]

I THINK I HAVE FINALLY CAME UP WITH A STORY IDEA FOR AUSTIN!ELVIS X READER!!!!

[voxmortuus]

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Dom!Benny Cross x Sub!F!Reader

⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Bikeriders

⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 3k

⇘ SUMMARY:⇙ Seems you've found yourself in a rather unique situation. You've known Benny for a long while, but you always felt a little out of his league, whatever league that may be, it just didn't feel like you were good enough for him. The thing is, you're just what he's looking for. You've got a lot of love to give, a heart on your sleeve, and a loyalty that is stronger than a dog. He wants you, but he wants you specifically. He wants you to be his old lady, he wants you to be his ride or die. Once he gets you alone though, the patches stay on, and things get a little far from vanilla.

⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Language | Smoking | Smut | Some BDSMesque Scenes | Dom!Benny | Kissing | Face Smacking | Boot on Face | Hair Pulling | Fingering | Hand job | Oral (M) | Face fucking | Guided Masturbation | Benny Masturbating | Begging | Facial | These are in no particular order! PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

⇘ NOTES:⇙ I hope this brings you some joy.

⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa

⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa

⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

Was it happenstance, or was it planned that he happened to show up today? Handing the beer over the counter, you lean against the bar, and you smile the sweetest smile you've got in you.

"Well shit, if it ain't Benny Cross. How long has it been?" You asked. Benny looked up at you as he walked in, giving you that same crooked grin he always walked around with. He gave a slight chuckle.

"Well, no shit. It's been, what, almost 7 years?" He asked you. You nod your head and chuckle a bit.

"Yeah, somethin' like that." you smirk and look down at the bar top.

It had been what feels like forever. It feels like you haven't seen him in ages, and truth be told, it had been ages. Seven whole ages, as a matter of fact. Smirking, he looks over you as he approaches the bar. Looking over his face, you smile, and a soft blush graces your cheeks, causing you to feel warm. Letting out a soft, shaky breath, you glance around, realizing that no one else was there in the bar, but you knew that wasn't going to last too long. How do you even say what you think you need to say. You groan, and you sigh and decide not to say anything.

As the night went on, the two of you mingled and caught up. He learned quite a bit about you, just as much as you learned about him. You learned quite a bit, and he learned just as much. However, you learned something that he didn't tell you either, he had always liked you. Well fuck. Upon closing up the bar, you look at him and shake your head.

"Benny, I've always had a thing for you. I always thought you were too good for me. Outta my fuckin league." you state honestly.

Benny stopped and stared at you. "Outta my league? No, no. I felt you were outta mine. Let me ask you this... you still want me?"

"I've always wanted you... that never changed, never after all these years." you admit.

He looks at you and runs his hand over his face. Nodding his head, he looks back toward the door. Looking back at you, he walks to the door and locks it. "Come here." he points to the ground in front of him.

Lifting a well-manicured and well-defined brow, you walk to him and stand in front of him. You look over that face, that handsome, perfectly chiseled face, and you lose yourself all over again. Why? Why, when you are around him, he makes you feel so... weak. He makes you feel so... dead-brained.

Walking to you, he sticks a finger under your chin and forces you to look up at him. A thought crosses his mind, an urge.

"I want you to prove to me how much you want me." He tells you, his voice drops an octave as he watches you.

"How do you want me to do that Benny? Just say the word and you got it." You state.

"Strip, then lay flat, face down on the floor." He states.

Okay, so that was NOT what you had expected. Blinking a few times, you don't hesitate, and you do just that. Stripping down, you fold your clothes and place them to the side, and you lower yourself to the floor. Biting your lower lip, you listen as he paces around you, observing you, taking in your figure, your heartbeat picks up in anticipation as you watch his boots come into view, and he stops and looks down at you.

Benny lights a cigarette and takes a long drag from it. Watching you as you lay there, he runs his free hand through his hair and then over his facial hair for a moment. Smirking, he takes a few steps closer to you and kneels down a moment, a hand dangling between his legs.

"So, you've gone this whole time not sayin anything. All because you felt I was out of your league... You know Darlin' if you had said anything, you may have learned a thing or two about how I felt. Maybe you need to be punished for that, huh? Teach you how to speak your mind? Make you beg for my attention now?" he stated.

Why did that make your cunt tingle? Make you hot? And why the fuck did that sound like such a good idea coming from him? You nod softly.

"No, I want you to say it." He stated firmly as he took a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke bellow above him as he exhaled.

"Yes. Punish me, teach me to speak my mind... make me... beg." You state. Your eyes look at his boots, and your fingers press into the floor as they are stretched out to your sides.

Standing up, he looks ahead of him, out the window of the bar, and smirks. He leans against the pool table, thinking of ways to punish you. Looking at your figure as you are sprawled out against the floor, so many things come to mind.

Standing back up from leaning, he pushes himself from the pool table and walks to you. He places his right boot on the side of your head. Not stepping, but applying just enough pressure for it to feel -- oddly comfortable. Your fingers press into the floor as you gasp. Why are you feeling this right now? Feeling these... feelings push through your thoughts. You bite your lip, and you let out a slow breath.

"Now, I've been thinking, since walking into this place, since we started talking, reminiscing about the past. I have been thinking about how things could go. About how we could have been together this whole time. But now, now I see the kind of girl you really are. I won't lie, Darlin'... kinda revs me up a bit. Eager to please." he mused a moment.

Looking down at you, he tilts his head, a sight for sore eyes, and fuck did he enjoy the view. Licking his lips, he took another drag from his smoke before he reached over to a close by table and tapped the ashes into an ashtray he had. With your head under his boot, he looks over the rest of your body. Leaning over with a smoke between his lips, his fingers run down the length of your spine. Feeling your flesh under his fingers.

"Soft to the touch." he pointed out.

Standing back up, he moved away from you, leaving you to bite your lip and almost ask for more. But instead, he reached down, grabbed your hair, and moved you to a standing position. You guided yourself with ease, and there was this deeper part of you that also enjoyed that. "What is wrong with me?" you asked yourself.

Moving you to sit in a chair, he spreads your legs apart. Looking over you, he licks his lips.

"Hands on your thighs, don't move them." He demands.

You nod in agreement. He wasn't going to demand the 'Sir' word just yet, but holy fuck was he going to enjoy it when it happened.

"Now I'm going to ask you a question, either say yes or say no. It's that simple. Got it?"

"Yes. I understand."

"Good. I'm going to hurt you, but it's not because I want to hurt you, it's because well... I want to see you in a different light, and because I enjoy it. Do you consent?" he looks over your face.

Taking a moment to understand, you've read some raunchy trashy books, so you knew not to compare the two, you weren't that naïve. You draw in a breath and you nod. "Yes. I consent." you finally state.

With a smirk across his lips, he nods. "Good girl. So long I've wanted to do this to you." He stated as he put his smoke out.

Walking behind the bar, he went to wash his hands, took a swig off a whiskey bottle, and made his way back toward you. Standing in front of you, he tilts his head. With a firm hand, he looks at you and throws it across your face. At first, you gasp, you close your eyes, your head whipped to the side. You whimper, not sure how to feel about it. You look to the ground, but he takes your chin and forces you to look back at him, and he smiles. Giving you a wink, and that's when you feel this sense of calm wash over you. It's like this switch was flipped in your mind. Submissive mode on... more so than before.

You didn't dislike the feeling on your skin, a hot sting. He brought his hand back, and it met your face again. Quickly moving to grab your chin, he leaned in and kissed your lips softly.

"Atta girl." he praised.

You felt this bubble of excitement rise inside you. It was this rush that moved through your veins like a hot liquid. Bubbling at the surface, wanting more.

"More, please." You ask.

He was happy to oblige. A little harder, be clipped your lip, but you didn't mind. The coppery taste on your tongue was sort of pleasant, a welcomed gift. You smile looking up at him. He looked at you, almost worried, but yet oddly calm. He smirked, leaning in he kissed you again, nipping at your now swollen lip. You feel your lower lips clench and quiver with want. Your breath was shaky against his lips.

His hand moves down your torso, moving to grip a breast before his hand moves down your apex right to your core. Your breath, staggered, your heart, pounding, your mind, stupid. You clench your lower walls and bite your lip, watching him, feeling him, desiring and needing him. You whimper. His fingers hover, and the heat from his flesh kisses your warm, swollen, needy bud.

When he finally brings his fingers to touch you, you gasp. You lock eyes with him, studying his baby blues as he begins to work your little swollen bundle of nerves. His free hand moves to jerk your head back by pulling your hair, as he hovers over you. His legs pressed against yours spreading your legs further as he worked you, exposing you to the pool table behind him.

But it was when he slid his fingers into you that your mind went more stupid. You let out a heavy moan as your eyes flutter, feeling his fingers work you. Leaning back in the chair, you let him take complete control, as he desired, and your body was no longer your own, and you were far from upset with that idea.

His fingers were like magic, but suddenly that all came to a stop. He looks at you, holding his fingers up as he looks at you. Bringing them to his lips he placed them in his mouth and smirked.

"Finger lickin good... Now... show me what you do with that pussy of yours when you think of me, because let's face it, Darlin, with all you've admitted, I know you've thought about me." He smirked as he moved back to lean against the pool table.

Looking at you he watches intently. Your hand moves to your bud as you slowly begin to work yourself. You watch him, intently, watching how he moves, how he breathes, how his lips curl with that crooked grin of his. You begin to remember how his lips tasted, how they felt against yours, how his fingers felt playing with you. You whimper as you bring your other hand up to grip your breast. Your breathing becomes heavy and you watch as the front of his pants grow tight.

Biting your lip you tasted the blood but your focus was on him.

"Atta girl, slow down, not too fast." he guides.

He readjusts against the pool table as he undoes his pants, freeing himself, he begins to stroke himself slowly. You slow down a bit, your toes curl against the floor as your legs spread even wider giving him a full view as you scoot forward a bit and expose your whole self even more.

"Just like that, keep going. What crosses your mind when you think of me?" he asked you.

Letting out a whimper you look over him as he strokes himself right in front of you. Dear fuck, his cock is god damned perfect.

"What you would feel like inside me." You state honestly with a soft whimper.

"What I'd feel like inside you huh? Well, maybe if you're a good girl, you'll find out." He mused as he moved his hand a little quicker against his cock. "Pick up a little speed." He demanded.

Without a shadow of hesitation, your fingers begin to work yourself quicker. You moan a little louder. His hand works himself faster, a little harder. He grunts, you whimper. It's a tandem of back and forth, a perfect give and take.

It feels like a lifetime, but a lifetime you'd never give back. He sees how wet you are, how you're beginning to drip off the edge of the chair. He snarls and walks to you, taking you by your hair he guides you to the floor and slips his cock between your lips, pressing to the back of your throat. He lets out a heavy groan.

Like a good girl, you take all of his cock, your tongue swirling around as he uses you like a little sex doll, fucking your face. He pulls you back, strings of spit from your mouth to his cock still connected as he slaps you across the face and shoves his cock down your throat again. Your eyes water and your breathing through your nose becomes heavy, and he does it again. Pulls you from his cock, slaps your face and brings your mouth back to his cock, and proceeds to fuck your throat and mouth, his grip on your hair tight it pulls at your scalp. Your moans and whimpers echo and vibrate through him and you as he uses your head to pleasure himself.

"Finger yourself." He snarls

You begin to do just that, your fingers working yourself as your mouth is being used. He smirks looking down at you before he's had enough of using your face he throws you back onto the floor and stands over you.

"Keep going." He demands.

And you do, you don't question him.

"Yes Sir." You state. Again, no question.

He's officially lost all control, at this point you both have. He works his cock faster, and you're watching every bit of it while you're moaning loudly just slightly below him as you work your bud, driving your fingers as deep as you can, feeling your wetness. You want to finish, you're right there, you almost cannot contain that hot explosion between your legs.

"No girl, you gotta beg for that finish." He states.

"Please, please let me cum" You plead.

He shakes his head. "Not yet... keep going... faster." He demands.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you work yourself faster, you arch slightly your toes curled under you. You're rocking back and forth your hips buckle.

"Please... please Sir... I want to cum. Can I please. Please." You beg.

He looks down at you as he works his cock, and he feels his own eruption on the rise. He looks down at you and smirks.

"Open up." He states.

Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out flat and you begin to taste those hot wet ribbons as he releases against your tongue, and over your face.

"Come on... Cum for me." He growls as he continues his facial finish.

You let out a heavy moan, a loud breathy gasp as your body begins to tremble. His cock tapped against your tongue as if saying he was finished with his finish. He watches you shake, almost a pleasure convulsion. You begin to giggle, swallowing what was in your mouth, and cleaning up your face. Licking it from your fingers.

"Thank you." you muse.

He looks over you and smiles. "No, thank you." he chuckles as he puts himself away.

Moving toward you, he scoops you up places you on the pool table, and looks over your face. He moves a moment and grabs a bottle of water from the bar fridge, and a clean, rag, getting it cool, he moves back toward you. Wiping your face, and neck, he starts to wipe you off and smiles handing you the water bottle.

"So I have a question." He states.

"Yes Sir?" you ask.

"How about you be my Old Lady... my ride or die... my one and only. My little pet... my little pain slut... my girl." He asked you looking over your face.

You look up at him, and this sense of perfection washes over you as you lean forward and kiss him sweetly. "I've waited a long time for that..."

"So is that a yes?" he asks with a smirk.

Nodding your head you chuckle place your arms around him and pull him in for another kiss. "That's a Yes." you whisper against his lips.

Smirking he presses his lips against yours and wraps his arms around you. Holding you tightly against him he leans back and looks over your face.

"Now, how about I take you back to my place, and show you how I feel inside you..." he smirked.

Nodding your head you chuckle. "Yes please, Sir." you whisper against his lips.

He kisses you again, and helps you get dressed before he takes you to his bike, hands you a helmet, and takes off in the direction of his place.

Everything that happened today, it felt like a dream, but this dream was one you'd remember. Only it wasn't a dream. This was real, and you were about to unlock a new chapter in your life.

[youaintnothinbuta]

"Who does he think he is?" — Austin Butler x reader

Summary: you and Austin are attending an awards show when your ex, a popular singer performs a song clearly aimed at yours and Austin’s (much happier) relationship.

Pairing: austin butler x reader

Word count: 700

Warnings: fluff! Toxic ex, protective austin

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Austin, dressed to the nines, sat in the front row of the grand hall, your fingers intertwined with his. Hollywood’s finest gathered under one roof. Celebrities mingled and photographers captured moments, their cameras flashing like a thousand tiny stars. Austin, looking handsome as per usual in his suit, couldn’t take his eyes off you. He’d already swept up a few awards, which were being kept safe with his manager, wherever she was. But when the host walked back up on stage to announce the next musical performance in between awards, a sense of dread filled you.

"And now, please welcome to the stage... (your ex’s name)!" The crowd erupted in applause as he, a popular singer, and more important the guy who showed you exactly what you didn’t want in a relationship stepped onto the stage.

Austin squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of unease. You forced a smile. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, and your breakup with him had been anything but amicable.

He grabbed the microphone, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you. A sly smile spread across his face, and your stomach churned.

"This song," he began, his voice smooth and dripping with intent, "is dedicated to a special someone in the audience tonight."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, heads turning to look at you. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your grip on Austin’s hand tightening. You leaned closer to him, whispering, “This is humiliating.”

Austin’s jaw clenched, his protective instincts kicking in. “Do you want to leave?” he whispered back, his voice barely audible above the applause as he began to sing. The song’s lyrics were painfully obvious, a lament about a girl leaving and finding happiness elsewhere—clearly aimed at you and your new relationship with Austin.

Maybe only 20 seconds into the performance, and you couldn’t take it any longer. You squeezed Austin’s hand, your way of telling him you wanted to go, and without a moment’s hesitation, he stood up, pulling you with him. He walked you out of the room, the curious gazes of celebrities and cameras trailing after you.

Once outside, you found a quiet corner away from prying eyes. Your composure shattered, tears of frustration and embarrassment welling up in your eyes. He lifts a finger up to your eyes, drying them before you could ruin your makeup.

"Who does he think he is?" You exclaimed, your voice quivering. "That was so embarrassing, Austin. How could he do that?"

Austin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot. I promise he’s embarrassing himself more than you."

You buried your face in his chest, taking comfort in his steady heartbeat. "Do we go back in?" You asked, her voice muffled. "There were already so many cameras on us."

Austin kissed the top of your head, stroking your back gently. "We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? We can leave if you want, or we can go back in there."

You took a deep breath. "I don’t want to let him ruin our night. Let’s go back in. But can we wait until he’s done?"

"Of course," Austin said, his voice soothing. "We’ll take our time."

You stayed in your secluded corner for a while longer, Austin holding you close, whispering reassurances and planting gentle kisses on your forehead. Eventually, the sound of applause signaled the end of his performance, and the energy shifted back to excitement for the next performer.

Austin looked into your eyes, his expression filled with love. "Ready?" he asked, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

"Ready," you replied.

Hand in hand, you made your way back into the hall, your heads held high. The moment you re-entered, the atmosphere shifted again. As you took your seats, Austin leaned in close and whispered, "I’m so proud of you."

You smiled. "Thank you, Aus."

You grabbed his face, planting a deep kiss on his lips, just to really drive your point home. The rest of the evening passed without incident. You enjoyed watching other actors and directors win their awards and mingled with friends.

[kinascum]

CHARMED ᯓ★

Austin Butler x Reader

wc: 1.7k | summary: y/n, an interviewer at Variety, scores an interview with Austin Butler. | nav - taglist

FLUFF. no major warnings.

You sit in the quiet of the Variety office, surrounded by the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clack of a keyboard echoing through the open-plan space. Your heart beats a little faster than usual today as you prepare for the interview of a lifetime. The email with the subject line "Austin Butler Interview: Confirmed" still sits open on your screen, a stark reminder of the excitement and nerves you've been juggling since you read it. You've done this before, of course, but something about Austin feels different. Maybe it's the way his blue eyes seem to look right into your soul in every magazine cover, or the way his deep voice sends a shiver down your spine when you watch his interviews. You're a journalist with a knack for making even the most guarded celebrities open up, but you're not immune to the charm of Hollywood's golden boys.

The clock ticks closer to the scheduled time, and you stand, smoothing out the wrinkles in your blouse and taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. You've spent hours researching his career, from his early days on the small screen to his breakthrough performance as the king of rock 'n' roll. You've rehearsed your questions, honed them to perfection, and now all that's left is to wait for the moment when he walks through the door.

When he does, it's like the air in the room shifts. He's taller than you expected, with a presence that seems to fill the space around him. He's dressed casually, but it looks like he stepped out of a magazine spread, his jeans fitting just right, and a leather jacket thrown over a simple white tee. His eyes scan the room, and when they land on you, you feel a jolt of energy. He smiles, a genuine, warm smile that reaches his eyes, and you can't help but return it, feeling a little bit like you're melting.

You extend a hand, and he takes it, his grip firm but gentle. His skin is warm, and for a second, you're lost in the sensation of his touch. "Y/N," he says, as if he's known you for years, not minutes. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." His voice is like a caress, and you blush, hoping it's not too obvious. You've always been a little shy around the people you admire, and the fact that he's looking at you with such kindness isn't helping your nerves.

As you lead him to the interview set, you notice the way his boots scuff the floor, the quiet confidence in his stride. He seems to be at ease in his own skin, a stark contrast to the flurry of activity around you. You offer him a seat and take yours opposite, placing your notebook and pen on the table. You've done this a hundred times before, but today, your hand trembles ever so slightly. You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you thought you'd outgrown, and try to remember to breathe. The cameras start to roll, and you're aware of every little detail: the sound of the film crew moving around, the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the background, the way the lights cast a gentle glow on Austin's face.

He leans back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours. "So," he begins, his voice like a purr. "What's the first question you've been dying to ask me?"

You open your mouth to speak, but the words catch in your throat. You clear it, hoping he doesn't notice, and glance down at your notes. But as you look back up, you realize that the question you've so carefully prepared isn't what you want to ask anymore. There's something about the way he's looking at you, something that makes you feel seen in a way you never have before. And in that moment, you know that this interview is going to be unlike any other.

You take a deep breath and dive in, asking him about his preparation for his latest role, one that's earned him critical acclaim and a slew of award nominations. His eyes light up, and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he thinks back to those intense days and nights spent becoming someone else. He speaks slowly, thoughtfully, his voice deep and resonant as he recounts the hours of research, the months of practice, the moments of doubt and triumph. You're captivated by his dedication, his passion for his craft shining through every word.

As you listen, you find yourself leaning in, hanging on to every syllable. His words paint a vivid picture of his journey, and you're drawn into the story as if you were there with him. You ask follow-up questions, eager to learn more, and he responds with the same thoughtfulness, never rushing, always choosing his words with care. His honesty is refreshing, and you can't help but admire the way he's handled the pressures of stardom with such grace.

But then his gaze starts lingering on you a beat too long, and when he smiles, it's a smile that says he's not just talking about the movie anymore, and suddenly, the air in the room feels charged with electricity. You blush, your cheeks grow warm, and you feel your heart race in your chest. Your hand fidgets with the pen, and you realize you're playing with your hair again, a nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in high school. But with Austin, you're feeling anything but professional.

He leans closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and asks you a question about your own work, your favorite stories, your dreams. And you find yourself opening up to him, sharing things you never thought you'd say out loud, let alone on camera. His voice is a gentle coax, drawing you out of your shell, making you feel as if you're the most interesting person in the world. And maybe, just maybe, you start to believe it.

The conversation flows like a river, twisting and turning through topics of art, life, and love. His stories are peppered with laughter, and you find yourself smiling more than you ever have in an interview. His hand reaches out, resting on the arm of your chair, and you feel the warmth of his touch seep through the fabric as he pulls your chair closer to his. It's a simple gesture, but it sends a jolt through your body, making you aware of every inch of space between you as you catch a glimpse of how his muscles flex under the studio lights.

You notice the way his fingers tap against the chair, a subtle beat that matches the rhythm of your heart. His eyes, so blue and deep, seem to see right through you, and for a moment, you wonder if he can read your thoughts. You realize you're not just asking questions anymore; you're exchanging glances, sharing silent moments filled with understanding. The chemistry between you is palpable, and the crew seems to have melted into the background, leaving just the two of you in the spotlight.

The interview comes to a close, but the energy between you and Austin doesn't dissipate. As the crew starts to pack up, he lingers, his hand still resting on the arm of your chair. "Thank you," he says, his voice sincere. "That was one of the best interviews I've had in a long time." You blush, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "It was an honor."

He stands, and you follow suit, the space between you closing as you exchange pleasantries about the weather and the traffic. His eyes never leave yours, and you can't help but feel like there's something unspoken hanging in the air. He's charismatic, down-to-earth, and thoughtful—everything you've read about him, but seeing it up close is like experiencing the gravity of a star for the first time. His words come out measured and deliberate, each one chosen with care, as if he's afraid of saying too much or too little.

As you walk him out, the quiet of the office seems to amplify the sound of your shoes on the floor. The lights seem to dim, and the world outside the glass walls fades away. You find yourself lost in the depth of his gaze, the way his eyes seem to dance when he smiles. He pauses, his hand resting on the doorknob, and looks at you with an intensity that makes your knees wobble. "Y/N," he says, and the way he says your name feels like a secret shared between the two of you. "Could I interest you in a drink? To celebrate a successful interview?" His words are followed by a cheeky grin as he addresses you in an overly formal manner.

You're surprised by the invitation, but something in his tone tells you that it's more than just a professional courtesy. You hesitate, your heart racing as you laugh nervously. You've never mixed business with pleasure before, but the way he's looking at you, the way his thumb brushes against the back of your hand as he holds the door open, makes you want to throw caution to the wind. You nod, trying to sound casual. "Sure, I'd love that."

The bar he chooses is dimly lit, the kind of place where whispers are the loudest sounds and secrets feel safe. He orders a whiskey neat, and you ask for a glass of wine. As you sit across from him, you can't help but notice the way the light plays with the shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. He talks about his love for music, the way it's shaped him as a person and an actor, and you listen, enraptured. His passion is contagious, and you find yourself sharing stories from your own life, things you rarely speak of outside of your closest friends.

The conversation flows as easily as the alcohol, and you realize that you're not just talking about work anymore. You're laughing, sharing, connecting in a way you never have with an interview subject. His hand reaches across the table, and he takes yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. It's a simple touch, but it feels like a promise, a question, a door opening to something new.

A/N: kinda in a love-hate relationship with this one yall

tell me if yall want to be added to this masterlist's taglist !!🩶🩶🦫

[eternal-love]

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER

Inspired of course by the amazing Ethel Cain.

A HOUSE IN NEBRASKA

Pairing: Gale Cleven x Reader

Summary: Summary: Before he left, he was yours. Yours only. Your Gale. Saying goodbye to him was so difficult, but never seeing him again was the last blow.

WESTERN NIGHTS

Pairing: Benny Cross x Reader

Summary: You loved Benny, so much so that you were willing to put up with him. You were naive. Trying to look for freedom and love amidst his violent nature.

GIBSON GIRL

Pairing: Sebastian Kydd x Reader

Summary: Sebastian promised himself he wouldn’t be like his father. That he liked tasteful girls, with ambitions and good families. But he couldn’t help himself. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

AMERICAN TEENAGER

Pairing: Austin!Elvis Presley x Reader

Summary: It’s not that you didn’t love Elvis, but he wasn’t what your father had wanted for you. You were the American teenager, you needed someone equal. Elvis— wasn’t.

[thegettingbyp2]

Front and Centre (Austin!Elvis)

You and your best friend were standing right at the front of the stage, your friend bouncing up and down excitedly. You’d spent the afternoon at the fair, going on the rides and taking part in the various activities that were on offer, and now you were waiting for the one and only Elvis Presley to come onto stage. Your friend was a huge fan of Elvis, however you didn’t really have an opinion of him. Sure, you’d heard some of his music on the radio and thought that he had a good voice, but you’d never actually seen him, only heard from your friend about how hot he was and how he danced so differently from any other music act you’d seen or heard.

‘(Y/N), you’re going to love him,’ your best friend, Tana, gushed. ‘He’s incredible!’

‘I never said I wasn’t going to,’ you replied, laughing at your friends enthusiasm.

The moment Elvis came onto the stage, you couldn’t help but be struck by how beautiful he was, the way a strand of his hair sat perfectly on his forehead had you wanting to wrap your finger around it and tuck it neatly back into place. However, the moment he started to move had all thoughts leaving your head. The way there didn’t seem to be a single part of his body that was able to stay still whilst he sang had put you in a trance.

You could hear the screams from the rest of the girls in the audience but they quickly faded away to almost nothing when Elvis’ eyes caught yours. It was as if time stood still and you watched as a smirk began to grow on his lips as he continued to sing, not breaking his eyes away from you. He made his way over to the edge of the stage, sinking to his knees, still singing as he reached out to take your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles before finally breaking your gaze and moving away continuing with the performance.

By the time the performance was over, it had seemed to have gone by in a blur, your hand still tingling from the feeling of his lips on your skin earlier in the night. ‘Oh my God! Did you see the way he was looking at you?’ Tana exclaimed as the two of you made your way out of the fair. ‘And he kissed your hand, you’re so lucky!’

‘He was looking at everyone, it’s kind of a part of his job,’ you laughed, brushing the experience off. As you walked through the exit, you startled at the feeling of a hand wrapping around your wrist. Turning around sharply, you were shocked when you looked into the eyes of the same man who had kissed your hand earlier.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he spoke with his Southern accent, ‘I just saw you at the show and I thought you were beautiful and I really wanted to speak to you.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ you said, shaking your head slightly, trying to work out if this was really happening, ‘but we’ve got to go and - ’

‘Well, I’ve got to go and actually try to find the car, I can just drive up here so you have some time,’ Tana quickly cut in, her eyes not straying from Elvis.

‘I don’t mind driving you home, if that would be alright with you obviously,’ Elvis said, turning back to you. You looked over at Tana and saw her nodding her head quickly.

‘Sure, that would be nice,’ you replied, smiling up at Elvis before saying a goodbye to Tana, promising to tell her everything once you get home.

‘Shall we?’ Elvis asked, offering his arm to you as you both turned back into the fair as you slid your arm through his. ‘I’m Elvis.’

You couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped your chest. ‘I know,’ you said, your smile evident in your voice as Elvis shot you a shy smile, ‘I’m (Y/N).’

‘Well, (Y/N),’ he began, and you felt a shiver roll down your spine at the way your name slipped easily off of his tongue. ‘How about a go on the ferris wheel?’ You hadn’t realised that Elvis had pulled you both to a stop in front of an empty carriage, just waiting for the two of you to get on. Instead of replying, you grinned up at him and moved to sit in the carriage, loving the way he let out a small laugh before rushing to join you before you were both hoisted into the air.

Once your carriage had stopped at the top of the wheel, you let your eyes close softly as you felt the gentle breeze brush through your hair, however, the breeze could do nothing to cool your cheeks once you looked over at him and saw the way he was looking at you; he was looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

‘I really liked your performance tonight,’ you said shyly, averting your gaze.

‘Thanks,’ he said, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. ‘Couldn’t help being a bit off my game tonight though, I was a bit distracted,’ he continued, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at you, causing a blush to quickly rush to your cheeks.

‘If it’s any consolation, I don’t think anyone noticed,’ you replied softly, looking up at him from underneath your eyelashes as a shiver suddenly ran through your body. Instantly, Elvis sprung into action, shrugging his jacket off.

‘You must be freezing up here,’ he murmured, draping his jacket over your shoulders, his arms lingering around you and you felt your head grow fuzzy as you were enveloped in the warmth from his jacket and his scent lingered around you. Elvis’ finger came to rest under your chin as he gently tilted your head up to look at him. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he spoke lowly as he began to lower his face to yours.

Just before his lips brushed against yours, the carriage you were in jolted as you came to a stop back down on the ground. You quickly pulled away, much to Elvis’ amusement, so you wouldn’t be caught by the ride operator, and hopped out of the carriage, Elvis following close behind until he gently pulled you to a stop, pressing you lightly against a wooden beam that was holding some of the bunting up, away from the rest of the crowd.

‘Where are you off to in a rush, darlin’?’ Elvis chuckled as he stepped even closer to you.

‘I didn’t think you’d want to be seen, where everyone knows who you are, with me,’ you began to ramble, only stopping when Elvis’ fingers gripped the sides of his jacket that was still draped over your shoulders, pulling you into him.

‘Darlin’, what I wanted,’ he started once you had looked back up at him, ‘was to kiss a beautiful girl. Imagine how I felt when he all of a sudden ran away from me,’ he made you laugh when he threw an overly exaggerated pout your way.

‘Wow, that girl really must not have realise who it was that wanted to kiss her, hey,’ you smiled coyly, bringing your hand up to lightly trace his jaw.

‘Are you going to let me kiss you now, darlin’?’ he asked, his accent sounding thicker as his eyes were trained on your lips.

‘Why don’t you find out,’ you said softly. Elvis tugged you impossibly closer by his grip on the jacket and finally pressed his lips to yours. You both sighed into the kiss as you felt yourselves get lost in each other, not caring if anyone walked past and saw you. You were enveloped by Elvis and, in that moment, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You only broke the kiss when the both of you ran out of air and Elvis pressed his forehead to yours, practically grinning. ‘I wanna take you out on a date,’ he said, taking your hands in his and pulling them up to loop around his neck. ‘Whatd’ya say?’

‘I’d like that,’ you replied, grinning up at him before he moved to press his lips against yours one more time, tugging you away from your secluded spot as the two of you made your way back through the fair.

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔FOREVERDOLLY'S AUSTIN BUTLER MASTERLIST

"𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚. 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙨, 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩. . . "

✶ TATTOOED HEART ONESHOT (BIKER!AUSTIN X READER)

austin is the club president of a local outlaw biker gang- a one percenter. he lies, he kills and he doesn't apologize for it. he was one weakness- you. when he gets a distressed late night call from you he's quick to come to your rescue. the only problem? your own father was in the same motorcycle club that austin now runs, and after his death you cut all contact. when you two see each other again emotions run high and things get. . . a little out of control.

total word count: 12.1k

✶ BABY BUTLER MASTERLIST (DAD! AUSTIN X MOM!READER) COMPLETED

you get pregnant while in australia, your husband still in the process of filming for the elvis biopic. this series follows you and austin as you both navigate being first-time parents whilst in the public eye.

total word count: 8.7k

✶ BABY LOVE ONESHOT (DOM!AUSTIN X SELF CONSCIOUS!READER)

you've gained some “relationship” weight since you and austin first started dating, and you find yourself growing more and more self conscious as time goes on. austin takes his time letting you know just how beautiful he finds you.

total word count: 3.6k

✶ OOPSIE DAISY ONESHOT (AUSTIN X INJURED!READER)

austin tries to protect you from journalists and paparazzi. he get's big time mad when one of them get's a little too close to you.

total word count: 2.4k

✶ ARE YOU MINE ONESHOT (EX'S BEST FRIEND!AUSTIN X READER)

after a bad breakup with your cheating ex, the last thing you’re expecting is for his best friend to side with you. at his insistence, you decide to let him accompany you to the arctic monkey concert in las vegas. what happens in las vegas doesn’t always stay in las vegas.

total word count: 13.1k

✶ FAKE DATING MASTERLIST (BOSS!AUSTIN X EMPLOYEE!READER)

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

total word count: 21.5k

✶ TEAR YOU APART (BIKER!AUSTIN X READER)

"I want it to hurt" and "quit being such a brat"

total word count: 1.8k

✶ I JUST RIDE MASTERLIST (80's MECHANIC! AUSTIN X BEST FRIEND! READER)

it's starting to look like he might never make it out of the friend zone. austin has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and he's terrified that you'll never see him as anything more than a best friend and protector. with the fear of you one day outgrowing him fresh on his mind, he's now hell bent on getting you to view him in a different light. madly in love and terrified to lose you, austin butler is playing for keeps.

total word count: 8.5k

✶ SHOTGUN WEDDING ONESHOT (AUSTIN!TEX WATSON X KIDNAPPED!READER)

the year is 1969 and you find yourself lucky enough to live up in the hollywood hills, spending your days dancing away to your favorite rock n’ roll vinyls in an old farmhouse and looking after your wild roommates. the only problem? you’ve caught the eye of tex watson. how does he spend his days? making moves towards finally getting everything that he could ever want. you.

total word count: 16.5k

✶ DASHBOARD JESUS ONESHOT (AUSTIN!TEX WATSON X READER)

"I can't. . .please. . . I can't take it anymore." and "good boy."

total word count: 2.5k

wanna be notified any time i post austin butler content? go ahead and like/comment on this post to stay connected !

← go back to the masterlist guide

"𝙖𝙨 𝙞 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙖𝙧 ' 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣' 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 '. . . "

[austinsmutler]

i think this is the request box??? SORRY UGH))) hi!! first time requesting! Could you do a BDE(or Austin)! Elvis x reader (could use she/her pronouns). Reader is timid and socially awkward. During one of Elvis’ shows, the staff at the venue are being really rude to her while she’s trying to get to his dressing room and saying like “just because you’re sleeping with him doesn’t give you any authority to come back here.” Elvis hears about this and confronts them after the show telling them that if they ever talk to his pretty girl like that again that he would do more than just fire them (FIRST TIME REQUESTING IM SORRY THIS IS A REALLY AWKWARD REQUEST)))

Oooh Anon. You’ve single-handedly pulled me out of my writing block with this request. If I could hug you, I would, but instead enjoy Austin!Elvis wanting to burn the world down to protect reader. I hope it's worth the wait.

Keep sending requests for Austin!Elvis, guys! These are so fun!

It's Only Love - Austin!Elvis x Reader - 2,000 words

What you’ll like: Protective Elvis, BDE Elvis, hurt/comfort, pet names ('baby' and 'pretty girl'), Elvis stands up to Colonel

Warnings: Period-typical misogyny, mild violence (nothing major or graphic but there is some grabbing)

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want!)

“Well I’m leaving town baby, I’m leaving town for sure, then you won’t be bothered with me hanging round your door- but that’s alright…” Your boyfriend drawled into the microphone, leaning in with a sultry sway of his hips that had the crowd sighing. 

Elvis’ eyes found yours as he sang, “But that’s alright, that’s alright now mama, any way you do… Woo-hoo!” He howled as the song, and the show, finished. 

The girls around you went wild, showering the stage in everything from red roses to their bras. It was always a strange sight, especially when one bra fell over Elvis’ head and he turned to throw it at Bill, the bass player, with a laugh.

You’d been there every step of the way on the tour, from Memphis to Lousianna and all the way to North Carolina. No matter where Elvis went, there was a crowd of girls screaming his name and throwing their garments at his feet. 

But you weren’t one of them. Elvis’ eyes always picked you out in the crowd and held you, performing your favorites as a secret serenade in every show.

You’d known Elvis since you were children, growing up together on the outskirts of Tupelo, sneaking into Black Pentecostal churches together, and- slowly as growing up- falling in love. 

Your parents hardly had to be persuaded to let you follow him across the country, because you had practically been married since the first time Elvis had grabbed your hand and led you inside the tent as they sang Up Above My Head. Elvis didn’t just teach you the words, he’d burned them into your soul, never letting go of your hand once as you both sang,

“I wanna soothe my heart, I wanna ease my mind, I wanna move my shoes and see what I can find…”

Elvis had found music, but you’d found him. 

** **

Usually Elvis would sneak out from backstage and meet you after the show, but with bigger crowds and Elvis more recognizable than ever, you’d agreed it was best for you to simply come backstage from now on. Everyone who worked with Elvis knew you- even the band members affectionately called you Mrs Presley. 

Which made it surprising when the bouncers- rare members of the team who weren’t Elvis’ direct friends or family -cut you off. 

“Backstage is for band members only.”

“What? Tommy, come on.” You put your hands on your hips, frowning up at the tall man. “You know me.”

“Sorry ma’am, Colonel’s orders.”

“Excuse me?” You caught eyes with Bill, passing behind Tommy. “Hey, Bill!”

“Hey, that's ol’ Mrs Presley!” Bill greeted you with a smile. “C’mon boys, let her through.”

“Backstage is for band members only.” The other bouncer, Tex, repeated. “Sorry Bill.”

You looked at Bill for help, but he was frowning at the other men. “Well, I’m a band member, and she’s with us. Let her through.” 

“Can’t. Colonel’s say-so.” Tommy said expressionlessly. “Real sorry, Bill.”

“You’re gonna be.” Bill looked at you. “Wait here, it’s gonna be alright.”

The second Bill was out of earshot, the bouncers focused their attention on you. It was the first time all tour you’d felt… afraid. It was a hot July night and you’d left your cardigan at home. Suddenly your shoulders felt too bare as they looked you up and down, disgust slowly filtering onto their faces. 

“Just because you’re fucking the boss doesn’t mean you can come back here.” Tommy growled, while Tex stepped forward to shove you further back. 

“He'll be done with you soon enough. Girls like you get boring after a while.” 

You bit your lip, fighting back tears, but you instinctively pushed back against the larger man. Tex’s face twisted in rage as he grabbed your arms with bruising strength. 

“Don’t think you can get away with that, just because you’re sleeping with Presley.”

He shoved you back so hard you hit the wall. You cried out in shock and pain as your head hit the wall and the world turned blurry.

“What the fuck is going on here?” A low voice growled from behind the bouncers. Elvis, still in his pink and black stage suit.

Bill was with him, but when he saw the scene, he took a step back from the singer as if he’d explode. If it were possible, Elvis would be ticking like a bomb ready to blow. 

“Elvis-” Tommy started, but Elvis silenced him with one hand. His dark blue eyes fixed on Tex, who was still in front of you, so uncomfortably close you could smell the sweat under his suit. It made you nauseous. 

You were still dazed from your head hitting the wall, unable to speak as Elvis stalked forward. For every step forward Elvis took, Tex took a step back. 

“I’m gonna give you one chance to explain what you were doing, touching my girl like that.” Elvis snarled. “And that’s one more chance than you deserve, so be quick.”

“W-well, boss-” Tex suddenly didn’t seem so big, hands at his sides, staring at his shoes. He looked more like a child being scolded. “We didn’t mean to-”

“Then what did you mean to do?” Elvis snapped. He was between you and Tex now, hand grasping yours with a reassuring squeeze. "Cause it looked to me like you were throwing my girl around like a rag doll, which she ain't." 

“Listen, we-” Tommy stepped forward, but Elvis interrupted. 

“No, you both listen. You’re fired. If I see either of you near my show or my pretty girl again, I’ll do more than just fire you. Got it?”

He didn’t wait for their response, wrapping an arm around you and guiding you backstage to his dressing room. The pain didn’t fully set in until he sat you in his chair. You winced.

Elvis felt at the lump on the back of your head. No skin was broken, but it still throbbed. Colorful bruises were already beginning to form on your arms where Tex had all-but thrown you backwards.

“Oh, no. No, no, no." Elvis murmured when he saw the marks. He was on his knees, looking up at you with a pained expression. “I’m so sorry, baby.” 

He kissed every bruise on your skin so softly you barely felt the heat of his lips. All the while he murmured comforting words, 

“I ain’t ever gonna let this happen to you again. Never gonna let anything like this happen again. I promise.”

You were silent, replaying Tommy and Tex's words over in your head. They had no idea what they were talking about, but the words still left you with a lingering nausea, far worse than any of the bruising on your body.

“How’s my girl doing?”

“I’m okay.” Your voice was meek, even to your own ears. 

"Hey, pretty girl," Elvis frowned, cupping your chin, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “You can tell me.”

And you did. As the tears finally spilled over your eyes, you told Elvis the worst of what the bouncers said. Tension flooded into his shoulders as you repeated their words.

Just because you’re fucking the boss doesn’t mean you can come back here.

“Those sons of-” Elvis caught himself, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, baby. They ain’t ever gonna work again, I'll make sure of it.” 

He kissed the back of one hand, then the other. Elvis’ eyeliner was messy after a night of performing, sweat still glazing his skin. He looked… tired. You’d never seen Elvis tired before, and the sight scared you more than anything. For the first time in twenty years of knowing him, he looked less than invincible. 

You wiped the sweat from his forehead, leaning down to kiss him. 

“I’ll be fine, really.” You smiled weakly. “You didn’t have to fire them.”

“If I ever had to see ‘em again I’d do worse than that, baby.” He pulled you in close to kiss your forehead, then your lips. “I’m gonna talk to the Colonel. Make sure he files a police report and hires real security for our next show.” 

You bit your lip, remembering their words. Colonel’s orders. “Elvis…”

Your lip wobbled. Elvis trusted nobody in the world more than the Colonel, aside from his mother. Would he believe you? 

Warm hands rubbed up and down your shoulders. “Hey, I’m right here.”

“The Colonel made them do it, they said he said not to let me through.” You blurted out, clamping a hand over your mouth, tears rising to your eyes again. Elvis’ hands froze on your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Elvis stood up. Through your tears, you could see the fire in his eyes. You thought he was angry before? Well, he was furious now. Hands bunched to fists at his sides, he didn't move for a long moment, just stared. Then he left the room without a word. 

It was common knowledge you didn’t get along with the Colonel. Elvis considered him a godsend, the man who launched his entire career. You considered him a toad, especially after one conversation you’d overheard in Graceland:

“If the fans know about her, they won’t follow you.”

Elvis thought you’d gone up to bed, but you had lingered to grab a glass of water… and listen to the men talking business. The thought had never crossed your mind before that you were part of that business. 

“Little girlfriends, they don’t last. But your music? My dear boy, that is immortal- if you play your cards right.”

Elvis laughed, and your blood froze. Then the laughter stopped abruptly. 

“You’re serious? What’re you talking about, Colonel?” Your boyfriend’s voice was light and playful, but there was an edge to it. Something underneath you’d never heard before. “I sing from the heart, and she is my heart. Without her, there’s no music.”

“My boy-”

“Understand me?”

“But-”

“Do you understand me?” The playfulness dropped from his voice. Elvis was easily persuaded to go along with just about anything the Colonel dreamed up (“His plans got us this far, haven’t they?”) but from that night one thing was clear: your relationship was not up for negotiation. 

Until tonight.

You stayed there for a while, emptiness settling in your stomach. Elvis didn’t believe you. Why would he? The Colonel had got him this far. Got him a tour in all fifty states. Made him enough money to buy Graceland and as many Cadillacs as he could imagine. You were just a girl from Tupelo, he could find another.

Still, you waited, hoped he’d come back. You could apologize, say you must’ve misunderstood, say anything to get him back. A difficult life with Elvis and the Colonel was better than an empty life without the man you loved. 

Minutes turned to a full hour, so you left, dragging your feet towards the exit, hoping your motel room would still be available to you. Elvis wouldn’t leave you in the middle of America, miles from home with no way back, would he?

Distant shouting caught your attention. You recognized Elvis’ voice immediately and followed down the corridor to a slightly-open door that simply said ‘Colonel’.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Elvis shouted so loud it made you jump, even as you paused outside the door to listen. “Who’re you gonna ban next, my mama?”

“Your mother is not the problem, my boy-” The Colonel sounded flustered, barely himself.

“And neither is she!” Elvis snarled, slamming something down inside the room. “Goddammit. I’ve told you before, I sing from the heart. You want to stop that?"

Silence. Had the Colonel ever been lost for words before?

Elvis continued, "Fine, we can break all our promises. How about this? I don’t see her backstage before and after every performance, I don’t sing. Or-" Elvis snapped his fingers, "Better idea, we go public. Let's see how many fans actually follow me for my music. I don't care about the rest of it."

“Elvis-”

“Those are your options. I’ll give you one more chance, but that’s it. And if I ever, ever find out you pulled this horseshit again, you're done."

The Colonel was silent for a while, but perhaps he muttered something quietly, or simply nodded, because the next thing you knew, Elvis was coming out of the room, fists still clenched and face flushed with anger. 

All of that melted away when he saw you. 

“Baby,” He murmured, taking your hand in his. “What’re you doing out here?”

"I- I thought-" Your body shook, and Elvis took the black jacket from his shoulders to drape it across yours. He led you away from the Colonel's door, back to the privacy of his dressing room. 

"You don't have to throw your life away because of me." You finally said.

Elvis smiled, wiping the tears from your cheeks with both hands. "Sweet girl." 

Without warning he picked you up and sat back in his chair, holding you on his lap while he peppered your face with kisses.

"A life without you? That's not one I want to be living." He pressed your foreheads together and let out a sigh. "But this right here, you and me? That's what's right. And I will protect that- protect you, Always."

[drtyelvisfantasy]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ౨ৎ ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ℰ𝓁𝓋𝒾𝓈 𝒫𝓇ℯ𝓈𝓁ℯ𝓎

౨ৎ: Riding with the King

౨ৎ: One step at a time

౨ৎ: Coney Island Baby🛼🍦

౨ৎ: 19 Candles

౨ৎ: Hawaiian Tropic

౨ৎ: Queen of the jungle

౨ৎ: Solider Boy

𝒜𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃 ℬ𝓊𝓉𝓁ℯ𝓇

౨ৎ: Break It To Me Gently

౨ৎ: Puppy Love

𝒜𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃!ℰ𝓁𝓋𝒾𝓈

౨ৎ: Pink Cadillac

౨ৎ: Prom Night Serenade

𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 ℰ𝓋𝒶𝓃𝓈

౨ৎ: Love in the Hamptons

౨ৎ: Baby it’s cold outside

[pxnsneverland]

Beauty and the Boss | austin!elvis x oc (part 10)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana’s most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he’s just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she’s on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 2500

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 10

              Never before had I witnessed such a torrent of tears cascade from Elvis's eyes, despite the numerous tales he had shared with me about his childhood. He held onto me tightly, his grip unyielding, as the blinding flashes of the cameras illuminated the area. It was as if he feared that I, too, would slip away from his grasp if he dared to release his hold. In the midst of his anguished sobs, he valiantly responded to the probing inquiries of the reporters, each word escaping his lips with a raspy, hoarse timbre. As the minutes ticked by, the imposing figure of the Colonel cast a shadow over the amassed crowd, akin to a circling vulture, ever watchful and ready to strike. The weight of responsibility settled upon my shoulders, a resolute thought echoing through my mind. "I need to protect him," I whispered, my determination unwavering. 

              The passage of time resembled delicate petals carried by the whimsical breeze. Although Elvis continued to perform and make public appearances, there was a noticeable dimness in his eyes - a flicker that had once burned brightly with the love he had received from his Mama. Familiar was I with that ethereal glow, intimately acquainted with the searing ache that accompanied its absence. With persistent resolve, you pressed forward, steadfastly navigating the treacherous terrain of pain. It loomed ominously, an ever-present specter, poised to snatch away any semblance of tranquility you had managed to procure. I made every effort to maintain Elvis's high spirits to the best of my abilities. The majority of instances proved fruitful, as my efforts gradually yielded the desired outcome of coaxing a smile from him once more. In the moments when Elvis found respite from the relentless gaze of the public eye, he sought solace in the simplicity of our intimate relationship. On most occasions, we found solace within the confines of his room or the red room, enveloped in our own private realm, impervious to any external disturbances. The looming peril that my father presented gradually receded from my consciousness, transforming into a haunting reverie. Maybe, in a moment of resignation, he had come to the realization that I was resolute in my decision to stay with Elvis, regardless of his desperate attempts to win me back. In the depths of my consciousness, I harbored a flicker of hope, although I was acutely aware that it was merely a product of my own desires, a figment of my imagination.

              The delicate bubble of hope that enveloped me was abruptly burst one fateful afternoon, just as Elvis and I returned to the sanctuary of Graceland. Our spirits were still buoyant from a meeting that the Colonel had arranged with a prominent Hollywood producer. “Colonel said once this deal is signed he’ll make me a real actor,” Elvis declared with a wide grin, his voice filled with anticipation, “Starrin’ in real Hollywood movies.” As he skillfully maneuvered his vehicle, he arrived at the grand entrance, a sprawling driveway leading up to the majestic main house.  “Said he’s already got some potential actin’ parts already lined up. They’re just waitin’ for the go ahead.”

              A surge of joy enveloped me as I beheld his happiness. From the moment Elvis and I forged a profound relationship, his constant drive to pursue a career as a serious actor became a recurring theme in our conversations. “That’s amazin’, sweetheart! All your dreams comin’ true. Your Mama would be so proud of you.”

              A fleeting moment saw his smile transform into a melancholic expression. “Yeah, she would be. Especially since she left you here to look after me.” Elvis silenced the engine's rumble, yet remained motionless, his hand lingering on the ignition. Concealed behind the darkened lenses of his sunglasses, he exuded an air of profound contemplation. With a deliberate motion, he removed his sunglasses, revealing eyes that held a hint of weariness. His gaze shifted downward, fixating on his lap, as if seeking solace or perhaps contemplating the weight of the world. “You know, darlin’…when this deal is signed and all…I’m gonna have to move to California for a while.”

              Naturally, I had been aware of that fact, yet I couldn't help but wonder why he appeared so visibly anxious. Had the Colonel had informed him of mine being unable to accompany them? The words uttered by that man were truly astonishing. If I had to, I'd go kicking and screaming and battling him all the way. I refused to allow him to manipulate Elvis's mind in my absence. “I know that.”

              “Well…” His gaze fell upon me in that moment. His hands trembled ever so slightly, betraying a hidden vulnerability. “I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come with me…”

              Was that the source of his anxiety? Was he not aware of the unwavering devotion that bound me to his side, propelling me to traverse the vast expanse of this world and venture even further into the unknown? “As if you c---”

              “As my wife.” The suddenness with which he interrupted me left me momentarily stunned, struggling to fully comprehend his words. A tingling sensation enveloped my mouth, rendering it momentarily numb, as his hand delved into the depths of his jacket pocket. With a graceful motion, he retrieved a petite velvet box. Nestled within the confines of the box lay a resplendent diamond ring, its brilliance so captivating that I could only imagine the staggering price tag it bore. The mere thought of inquiring about its value threatened to overwhelm my senses, as if the revelation would render me unconscious in disbelief. “I know we ain’t never talked about gettin’ married and California is basically a whole ‘nother world compared to Graceland. And I know I’m just some mafia leader who lucked himself into a singin’ career. But, Laura Jean, I ain’t met anyone like you and I’m sure I never will again. You know the real me, the good parts and the bad and still you choose to love me. And I love you so much I feel like my heart is gonna burst every time you look at me.” A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “Will you marry me?”

              As I savored the moment, a peculiar sensation overcame me - it was as if my tongue had undergone a remarkable transformation, expanding within the confines of my mouth. Words eluded me, trapped within the confines of my mind. Elvis Presley, you have my heart. Unbeknownst to you, it was your actions that liberated me from the confines of my cage. I found myself nodding vigorously, my heart brimming with joy as tears of happiness cascaded down my cheeks. Elvis's apprehensive face swiftly dissipated as he delicately extracted the ring from its ornate box, gracefully sliding it onto my awaiting finger. With an ardent embrace, I enveloped my arms around his neck, drawing myself closer to the driver's seat as if our souls were intertwined. In a moment of undeniable passion, I pressed my lips against his, savoring the taste of our connection. His hands gently cradled my face, as if holding a fragile treasure. In that tender embrace, both of us silently yearned for time to stand still, desperate to prolong this fleeting moment of bliss. However, it complied with the natural order of things, for both of us were compelled to breathe.

              “Is that a yes?” he uttered in a hushed tone, his lips lingering in proximity to mine.

              “As if anything could keep me away from you.”

              Our attachment was abruptly severed by the jarring clamor emanating from the passenger's side door. Jerry and Billy were in a state of frantic panic. Elvis appeared visibly perturbed by the untimely interruption that had disrupted the delicate tinder moment we were sharing. As we emerged from the vehicle, Elvis's exit was marked by a resounding slam, a touch more forceful than his customary manner.

“Jerry! Billy! What the hell is wrong with y’all bangin’ on my car like that?!” Elvis yelled as he came around to stand next to me on the other side of the car.

“Move! EP, you guys gotta move!” Jerry's voice pierced the air, its urgency leaving no room for questions. In a swift motion, he and Billy seized us, their hands tugging us away from the vehicle, propelling us to safety. As we ascended the staircase of the estate, a thunderous explosion erupted, shattering the tranquility of the moment, and sending us sprawling to the ground, our senses overwhelmed by the sheer force of the blast. With lightning-fast reflexes, Elvis deftly intercepted my impending collision, ensuring that instead of a painful impact with the unforgiving corner of the steps, I found myself safely ensconced in his protective embrace. The formidable force barreled through the rustling foliage, causing a tempestuous dance among the leaves. Its unyielding power was such that it shattered a window, sending shards of glass cascading into the delicate embrace of the flower bed below.

“Are you alright, darlin’?” Elvis asked, his voice filled with frantic urgency, my head still buried in the comforting embrace of his chest.

I gently nodded, finding comfort in his eyes. Gently, my fingertips grazed his cheek, tracing the faint mark that now marred his otherwise flawless skin. “I’m fine. What happened?”

Without granting him a moment to respond, I swiftly averted my gaze towards Elvis's vehicle, the very one that had sheltered us mere moments ago. Alas, it now stood consumed by a raging inferno, its once pristine exterior scattered haphazardly across the manicured lawn. The sudden and devastating explosion of a car bomb sent shockwaves through the air, shattering the tranquility of the surrounding area. As we embarked on our journey back, little did we know that it had been concealed within the confines of our vehicle all along. How was it possible that the explosive had not detonated? The distant wail of fire sirens reached my ears, their mournful cry piercing. With a swift motion, Elvis extended his hand towards me, urging me to rise from the ground. In a flurry of movement, he guided me towards the entrance of the house, accompanied by the presence of Jerry and Billy. Elvis's chest rose and fell with each breath, a rhythmic testament to the intensity of his emotions. A crimson hue had overtaken his countenance, transforming him into the very embodiment of the merciless gangster I had come to recognize he could be. His eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze upon Jerry and Billy.

“Now, y’all wanna tell me how you knew there was a bomb in my car?” With lightning speed, Elvis lunged forward, seizing Jerry by the collar of his shirt. In one swift motion, he propelled him forcefully against the wall, causing a delicate vase to topple and shatter upon impact. “HOW DID YOU KNOW?! I swear, Jerry, if you’re turning against me now, I’ll kill you!”

Billy reached out, his fingers grasping Elvis's shoulder in a desperate attempt to dislodge Jerry. Alas, his efforts proved fruitless as Elvis remained firmly planted, unyielding to Billy's feeble endeavor. “It wasn’t us! We would never do that to you, EP.”

With a sudden, swift motion, Elvis's head whipped around.  “Then how did you know about the bomb?!”

In a moment of revelation, Billy unveiled a crumpled piece of paper that had eluded my attention until now. As a result of this unforeseen turn of events, Elvis made the difficult decision to release Jerry from his grip, allowing him to escape the clutches of danger. Elvis snatched the crumpled paper from Billy's grasp, his fingers delicately caressing its surface in an attempt to restore its former glory. His intent was clear - to decipher the words that lay hidden beneath the folds and creases, as if unraveling a mystery that begged to be solved. I peered over his shoulder, aching to catch a glimpse of the words myself:

I left Mr. Presley a little gift in his car. Fame can’t protect him forever. -Walker

              There was virtually no limit to how far this man might go. The audacious act of targeting Elvis's car with a bomb was a shocking and brazen endeavor. The potential for tragedy loomed ominously, as he possessed the capacity to end not only my life but also the lives of any unsuspecting individuals residing within the confines of Graceland, should they have found themselves in the ill-fated vehicle alongside Elvis. However, that was precisely the crux of the matter. In the discerning gaze of his eyes, none among us could claim innocence, not even I. Daddy, in his unyielding pursuit of victory, would not hesitate crush those who managed to surpass him in his own domain. As for myself, I would bear the consequences of daring to challenge his authority. This was the grand canine spectacle he had been forewarning me of. It was a world beyond mere blades and fist fights. Lives teetered on the precipice, their delicate balance hanging in the order, and among them, my own existence dangled precariously. In the depths of my contemplation, my mind wandered to the memory of my beloved mother. Her existence, tragically shortened by a conflict that had never been her own. Was I fated to be trapped in the relentless cycle of history's repetition? In contemplating the potential aftermath of my demise, a lingering question arises within me: would Elvis succumb to the same frigid detachment that seemed to consume Daddy's soul? Would the loss of my presence render him distant and devoid of emotion, mirroring the very essence of my father? Before me, time slipped away like a fleeting wisp of smoke, leaving me bereft of the opportunity to engage in deep contemplation. It was in this moment, when the world seemed to hold its breath, that the phone, with its insistent ring, shattered the silence. With an air of anticipation, Elvis effortlessly grasped the phone, as though he possessed an innate understanding of the identity of the caller on the other end. His anger intensified with each passing moment, fueled by the words that resonated through the receiver.

              “You sick, twisted bastard!” he bellowed vehemently through the telephone, “You could have killed her! If you want me dead so bad, you come here and face me yourself. You know where to find me.” With a force that seemed capable of shattering the delicate device, he abruptly terminated the call. “Jerry, Billy, gather everyone up. We gotta visitor comin’. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” With a firm grip, Elvis clasped my hand and whisked me away, his footsteps resounding through the labyrinthine hallways. “Laura Jean, I don’t want you leavin’ my side you hear me? Not until all of this is over.”

              “Elvis, what’s goin’ on? Who was that on the phone? What did they say?” There was no real need for me to ask questions. I knew.

              “Your Daddy is comin’,” he uttered the words, in a voice ablaze with the fury of damnation.

Stay tuned for part 11!! Click HERE to view!

[butlervibesonly]

𝐵𝑒𝑑𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑒 | Austin Butler

• Summary : Y/n's and Austin's daughter is having a hard time sleeping, and all she wants to do is dance with her daddy.

• Pairing : dad! Austin Butler x mom! reader

• Warnings : none, fluff and maybe typos

• Guide : y/d/n means your daughter's name

The living room is filled with soft light of a lamp and light from TV you and Austin are watching. All around on the floor are discarded toys that your three year old daughter played with before you put her to bed.

You lie tiredly next to Austin, his arm around your shoulder. You have something to do to stay awake because your daughter is tireless and is probably the most active child, which is making you incredibly tired but happy.

The quiet hum of the TV is broken by the sound of your y/d/n's room door being opened. With concern, both you and Austin, look in the door, where you can hear the small footsteps approaching the living room.

As soon as you see y/d/n, you absolutely melt. Her hair are messy, wearing her floral pyjama. She rubs her eye with one hand and holds her favorite stuffed dog in the other. "Mama, dada, I can't slweep."

"Ohh, poor baby girl," Austin sits down, taking her on his lap. "How so you can't sleep, sweetie?" you ask, smoothing her wild blonde hair with your hand. She's the true copy of Austin. Beautiful blue eyes, blonde hair and the cutest little nose.

"I wanna dance, mama!" You and Austin exchange smiley face. Ever since she saw Austin as Elvis, and his breathtaking dance movements, she wanted to be like him. "But you should be sleeping, little princess,"

"Dada, dance with me?" Austin looks at you, questioningly, but you nod. "Alright, but you'll go back to sleep afterwards, okay?" Y/d/n throws her hands in the air, cheering.

You can see her as Austin's twin. And you love her even more for that — because she looks like someone you love so much. Austin searches up for Y/d/n's favorite song from him as Elvis which is Trouble.

As soon as the song starts playing, the little one starts jumping and sway her hips, almost like Austin did during this performance. "Dada, dance wit' me!" Austin laughs, almost too shy to dance in front of his wife and daughter.

"Nobody told me we'd be performing in front of mommy today!" he exclaims, taking y/d/n from the floor, so that she 'flies' in the air. And as soon as But if you're gonna start a rumble don't you try it on alone part comes, Austin switches into his Elvis dance mode.

You can't help but laugh, recording this cute moment as Austin and her dance together, the room filled with laughter and giggles. "Dance like Elvis, daddy!" y/d/n smiled, admiring the way Austin dances. You watched this whole scenario with full heart.

This is the life you and Austin have dreamed of. You, him and the little family that the both of created. Dancing tired y/d/n, so a moment later she fell asleep in Austin's arms.

Austin gets up and goes to put her back in her bed. When he comes back he sees your grin. "What are you smiling at?" he asks, sitting on the couch. "You have perfect dance moves." you tease him, as he pulls you closer.

"Ya know, Elvis' dance skills ate unforgettable," he looks in your eyes. "But we should try make y/d/n brother, so you have someone to dance with, too."

"Austin!!" you slap his shoulder playfully. "Behave a little."

"C'mon, you love me tho," Austin kisses you. "I do love you. I love both of you so much."

"I love my girls too."