#elvis Presley x ofc

[buglass]

BLOODSONG

Summary: 28 year-old journalist Lorraine Morrison works for the Las Vegas Tribune where her writing is growing stale. In an attempt to switch up what she writes for her readers, she tries becoming a last-minute Vegas show critic and attends a late-night show of the one and only Elvis Presley. He catches wind of the review and he’s not exactly ecstatic about it. When he invites Lorraine to interview him, little does she know he’s just a tired, bloodthirsty vampire wanting her approval.

Content Warning: Mature (M 18+), MDNI

Pairing: Vampire!Elvis Presley x Black!OFC or Vampire!Austin!Elvis x Black!OFC

Words: 6.2K

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Horror themes; vampirism obviously, blood, penetrative sex, oral sex, biting, 1970s

A/N: Made this chapter 1 of 1 since it can be more of a one-shot unless anyone is interested in more but otherwise I’ll leave this as a standalone. Let me know what you think and enjoy, fellow vampire-lovers. There was no beta, so sorry for mistakes.

1973

“What a crock load of shit this is,” Elvis tossed down the newspaper. “Who does this girl think she is? A few bad shows, then she writes that I’m out of practice, repetitive, and unfocused. Goddamnit,” he grumbled, puffing on his cigar. It was far more for show and taste than actual enjoyment. Elvis had come to like how it made his lungs feel as if he needed to breathe and get the smoke out.

“You were bloodletting after all after feeding on that poor girl,” Larry added.

“I knew she tasted weird for a reason. Anyhow, Larry, I need to find this girl. Get her to see that I’m puttin’ my heart and soul into this damn coliseum.” He threw up his hand.

Elvis propped his boot-covered feet up onto the couch, plucking his sunglasses from his face. Larry watched him from where he stood by the couch, calm as he had since become used to Elvis’ temper tantrums as his familiar.

“Well, the Vegas shows have been a little…repetitive, E. I don’t see why you bend to the Colonel’s will.” Larry said sheepishly.

“My word is my bond. I agreed to do these shows and so I’m doing them. The bastard can’t live that much longer to rule my life. I’m bored, Larry. I-I need to know what my purpose is. I can’t live the rest of eternity wondering if this is all for nothing.” Elvis grumbled, looking to the strewn newspaper pages. Having forgotten the woman’s name, he picked it up again to scan the page just beneath where the headline was and read, By Lorraine Morrison.

“You have to find fulfillment outside of fame. You’ve taken quite the risk by being in the spotlight with your…longevity.” Larry said.

“Maybe Lorraine can teach me how to appeal to humans again. If what she says is true. That my ‘pandering’ is the main drive outside of my gyratin’. The hell does she know? Find her. Offer an interview with her.” Elvis said, honing in bright eyes on Larry.

“This sounds like an ego thing once again,” Larry raised his alarm. “You can’t bring harm to someone in the media. They always tell someone when they’re involving themselves with someone famous.”

“Tell her to be discreet. That it’s of the utmost importance for…security. I don’t know, man, make up some shit. She works at the Las Vegas Tribune so make it happen.” Elvis shooed at his familiar.

“Of course, Elvis,” Larry said, his mouth shutting at the request.

Lorraine Morrison was a smart, quick-witted, and keen woman. She always dreamed of being in a big city writing for larger papers in New York or Washington D.C. but learned to settle for the big leagues of Las Vegas, Nevada. That was her sarcasm speaking more than anything. Vegas was a debaucherous, crowded and mafia-ran waste of space. The only benefit to being in Vegas was very much so like New York City, the city never slept. That was if someone liked to gamble or see half-naked women. Lorraine could think of better things to do with her time. 

Her column was growing stale and the one thing she had never done before was see any of the shows with hit talent performing around the city. The only person she could fathom sitting through was one Elvis Presley. He remained a mystery to her because being that she was only twenty-eight years old, she had no real recollection of him bursting onto the scene and changing music history. By the time she could remember seeing anything about him, he was already in movies.

Clearly, she wasn’t big on television growing up.

So when the time came to select what show time she wanted at the Hilton for the Las Vegas Summer Festival, she went at midnight where a journalist would go unsuspected and Elvis might not be at his best. Lorraine dressed nicely as she would have for any evening outing, her hair picked out and a dress to show her slim, tall figure. She wasn’t praying for his downfall or for him to be out of sorts, but she wanted to see how much of his all was at play without Las Vegas Tribune printed on her forehead. 

Lorraine sat stage right for prime viewing. The room’s lights had dimmed and started the show off dark, quite the dramatic entrance and music playing up Elvis’ arrival to the stage. She dug out her notepad from her purse from where it was tucked away only soon to be given pause. Elvis walked up and down across the stage, leaving Lorraine a little starstruck. He wasn’t the same dopey man she saw in movie posters or the man she thought she remembered ever seeing on television. 

His aura drew her in before he even officially started singing. The suit was a bit much for her taste but only Elvis could pull off something as extravagant and close to Evel Knievel. Throughout the show, Lorraine scribbled a few notes here and there, especially in appreciation for the band and the backup singers’ ability to keep up with last-minute changes that Elvis made during the show. She left that night concluding Elvis had a sort of inflated ego while at the same time realizing it wasn’t his fault. His one-hundred-piece band and stagehands reflected just how much people adored him.

It didn’t help that he was quite the giver too.

Elvis gave away scarf after scarf on stage along with some of his jewelry like it was nothing. Lorraine could give him that much. If a fan was lucky enough to visit Vegas and then spend the money on a hotel and a show, they could easily get a return on investment. That’s part of what she wrote in her column and led her to get in touch with one of the Memphis Mafia members. She was requested by name at the front desk of the Tribune and in turn called at her desk from what she was doing by having to go see what was needed.

“Are you Lorraine Morrison?” The suited, long-haired man asked.

“Depends on who’s askin’. Why?” Lorraine asked, tilting her head skeptically.

“Well, ma’am, I’m Sonny West. You recently saw a show you wrote about in your newspaper and Elvis would like to extend a more in-depth interview opportunity.” Sonny said, clasping his hands in front of himself. He was undoubtedly proud to name-drop his boss.

“Elvis Presley,” she asked in disbelief, chuckling. “I’m no Rolling Stone. Why would he want me to interview him?”

“He doesn’t like disappointing his audience. So,” he reached inside his blazer to an inside pocket and withdrew a card. “Here is my number to come collect you, if necessary. He insists on providing you a ride to the International if you so choose. Otherwise, please be available in two days. The interview will have to be around one AM.” 

“Right… Okay.” She shook her head in mild shock, taking the card from Sonny. 

It was all so odd and fantastical that she couldn’t shake it from her mind even when she returned to her desk and when she got home that night. The complete unknown that was Elvis Presley struck her. Had he hated her review of the show? Two days was two too many in her eyes.

“He’ll be right with you, take a seat. He’s getting cleaned up from the show.” Larry said after some introductions and being escorted to Elvis’ top-floor suite. 

Lorraine smiled politely, holding onto the strap of her bag, and was struck by the quietness of the room. There was no big gathering outside of a few members who she assumed played roles of security and Larry. Lorraine walked deeper into the room, going to the couch to sit down and thumbing at the strap. The late hour wore on her though she tried to sleep before then. That much was impossible with how wired she was thinking about meeting Elvis. So little had been conveyed to her about what to expect that she was riddled with anxiety about the whole thing. 

The door to the suite opened after a while, a few men walking in first then Elvis trailing in behind them. He plucked his purple-tinted sunglasses from his eyes as he stepped in. He was dressed in dark, layered garb that Lorraine found impossible to imagine wearing in the heat of Nevada. What Lorraine missed was how he sniffed the air before his eyes landed on her. He looked pleased and broke his attention away from his guest to look at the men surrounding him. Elvis didn’t want to intimidate her by leaving her to be the only woman in the room.

“Ms. Morrison,” Elvis said, walking over to her. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You, too, Mr. Presley. But please, call me Lorraine.” She asked, moving to stand up and taking Elvis’ proffered hand to shake. Lorraine felt struck by the contact and while her expression remained placid, internally she was stirred by the eye contact he held with her.

“And you can call me Elvis. Are you hungry, thirsty? I’ll have the boys go grab you a bite to eat, if you’d like, sweetheart.” Elvis said, dropping his hand.

“No, no. I’m alright. I’m a little too tired to fathom the idea of eating at this hour,” she waved off the idea. “I’d really like to get started, if that’s alright? You’ve made me curious the last few days.” 

“I guess I could say the feelin’ is very mutual. I actually think I recognize you,” he said slowly, moving to lower into a nearby armchair to sit across from the sofa. “I was tryin’ to draw you up to the stage and you just wouldn’t budge. Isn’t that right?” He gave her a half smile.

Lorraine lowered back onto the couch cushion, giving Elvis a knowing and suspicious look that he would be able to recall her from so many nights ago after the amount of shows he put on everyday and night.

“Possibly,” she said, removing her bag from her shoulder to rest on the couch. “I believed there were plenty of suitable candidates coming up to you that weren’t me.”

“Oh, honey, but they didn’t look like you,” Elvis added suggestively.

Lorraine looked down and away, digging into her bag for her journal and pen. The tape recorder came out next, placed onto the table between them that had yet to be turned on and started. She wanted to be less swayed by his flirtatiousness. He was a man who too often got exactly who and what he wanted. Lorraine didn’t plan to add to his tally.

“I’m sure they often do not, Elvis,” she pressed her tongue into her cheek. “So, why have you requested me here? What do you hope to get out of this interview?”

“I-I feel out of touch. What you wrote, your hit piece, it stuck with me. I know how to rouse an audience but you… Your criticism reminded me of the movie days. Not quite to the same level, no, but I want your opinion on where I’ve gone wrong. I’ve been around for quite some time, you see.” Elvis said, hanging his arms off the sides of the chair. One hand pinched the arm of his sunglasses, swinging them back and forth as he spoke.

“I am sorry if you took my column to heart, Elvis. It was nothing personal. Actually, I didn’t grow up as a fan. More like a…passive bystander as you grew to stardom.” Lorraine cocked her head to the side thoughtfully, tapping her pen against her notebook.

“Hmm,” Elvis hummed. “I think I can change your mind. A hard feat to come by. You’ll be just about the only one to know or realize what I’m willing to share with you tonight. Can y’all go do something else?” Elvis’ attention snapped to the hovering men. He waved a hand at them as they looked expectantly to Elvis before shuffling out of the room. Larry lingered nearby before Elvis said, “Shoo, man, go. Come back in about an hour.”

“Yes, Elvis.” Larry said, the door shutting behind him. 

Lorraine thought it was strange even for a celebrity to have a group of men react in such a way. Elvis stood up again and wandered to his nightstand, dropping off his glasses. He walked around, drawing Lorraine’s attention to him, and picked up a cigar box from the dresser. Elvis sighed and walked over to the glass windows overlooking the city and fiddled with his lighter to singe the end of the cigar.

“As time goes on, I see how much the world is changin’, you know?” Elvis said. “What’s acceptable, what’s not acceptable. I’m going to tell you a few things first before you make your mind up about me or press record on your machine there.”

“Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of my being here?” Lorraine asked, her confusion growing by his mysteriousness.

“Honey, you won’t believe me when I tell you.” Elvis glanced over his shoulder. 

“Try me. I don’t think much of anything can really throw me off. Not living here.” Lorraine shrugged, pen at the ready.

Elvis was swift, standing in front of her before she could react and swallow her words. Was she having a heart attack? She was frozen as he stood before her, inspecting her face to gauge what her reaction might be. Elvis sat down at her side and she could only move her eyes to follow him.

“Vampirism is too unrealistic, honey. The rest of the world wouldn’t believe you if you tried. Showin’ you is easier.” He answered calmly, raising his cigar up to his mouth for a puff.

“I… Uh. Um,” Lorraine stammered. “Holy shit.” She whispered.

“I won’t hurt you. I only find interest in ladies who find interest in me and I am extremely intrigued by you. More than I planned to be.” Elvis said, his eyes drifting down her body then back up.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to say right now. You just… You just crossed the room. In a blur.” Lorraine's voice pitched as her panic rose.

“I did,” Elvis agreed.

“So y-you drink blood and…” Lorraine asked, turning her head to look at Elvis.

“Sometimes. Not as much as I should some days and others I prefer the girls that are hopped up on pills. You can smell it on them. It’s like when you’re drinking and become drunk,” Elvis said, reaching down to pick up Lorraine’s fallen pen she didn’t seem to notice she dropped. “And the whole burnin’ up in the daytime thing is untrue.”

“Clearly,” Lorraine squeaked, taking the pen back. “Elvis, I can’t use this. Even if I tried to then my career would be relegated to that of shitty tabloid headlines and articles. That-That was a fluke. I must’ve blinked and you’re angry with me for what I wrote or this is a very untimely moment to lose my mind.” Lorraine chuckled in disbelief, beginning to stow her things back into her shoulder bag.

“Lorraine,” Elvis warned. “I’m no liar.”

“Then, prove it. Prove that you’re a vampire.” Lorraine stilled what she was doing.

“And how would you like for me to prove it to ya?” Elvis raised a brow.

“Can you fly? Turn into a bat, or something. Let me see your teeth,” she demanded.

“You watch too many movies, man, no I can’t turn into a bat or fly,” Elvis shifted and opened his mouth. “See?”

Lorraine turned her head away instinctively and slowly leaned in to inspect Elvis’ teeth. They were sharp right at the canines but some people just had sharp teeth, she thought. Lorraine didn't know why she was still sitting there while Elvis chose to waste her time and make fun of her in the process.

I’m not making fun, a voice said in her head.

Elvis’ eyes dropped to her face again and he shut his mouth. She moved to stand, opening and closing her hands into fists. Lorraine was sure now she was losing it and the devilishly handsome man was somehow playing an elaborate trick on her.

“Okay…” She breathed. “Why would you tell me all of this? Does the rest of your entourage know? Is the Memphis Mafia aware? Oh, my God, are they also vampires?” 

“No, Lorraine. Honey, I know it’s a lot. I get tired of hidin’ sometimes and there’s somethin’ about how you go almost unaffected by me. Normally people fawn when they’re near me, but you snap outta it. I find that appealin’. Before with the article, I thought goddamn it and wondered what you could know about putting on a show every night for an audience. I wanted to sink my teeth into and make you feel what others have felt in my presence.” Elvis admitted.

Lorraine felt a laugh rising up from her throat as she turned to face him. He had no idea exactly who she was by looks but he had come to think deeply on two versions of her that went untouched by his persuasion. To her, it was amusing to see that ego didn’t die with the undead. She placed a hand to her chest as she walked toward the windows and tried to hide what arousal she felt. His confession stirred something in her that she wanted to shove down and bury.

Can you hear my thoughts?, she realized from before.

Sometimes. If I focus, Elvis supplied.

Shit, she thought.

Lorraine looked over her shoulder again and Elvis was moving to stand. He walked because he could, she now knew, and stood behind her. He looked to her thoughtfully, dragging a ring covered hand down the back of her arm. Lorraine shivered, reminded of a gazelle that was being hunted by a lion. That’s what Elvis was to her.

“Aren’t you curious? How could I make you feel?” Elvis rumbled, dropping his lips to her ear to speak closer. His charm was dialed up and she didn’t know just how capable he was of using persuasion to sway anyone into doing as he liked. Elvis tried to refrain but to him humans were easy to get to comply because some part of them wanted to.

“I… I suppose.” Lorraine said dreamily, seeing part of their reflection in the window.

“Let me take away your worry, darlin’,” he whispered, dropping his head lower to drag his lips across the side of her throat. 

Lorraine swallowed and flinched, pulling away from Elvis and brought her hands up. She stepped around him and returned to packing up her things. 

“This is too much. I-I can’t, alright? I’m grateful for the opportunity but I can’t just let you fuck and suck me because you want to. I have morals, Mr. Presley, and those morals say I don’t want to be used.” Lorraine grimaced, tucking her recorder into her bag at last.

“Whoa, honey, I like and respect women. I do, but over time things become repetitive. Not everyone wants anything serious with me and I don’t think that makes you less than for givin’ it to me. I don’t have to sleep with you to make you feel good.” Elvis explained, trailing after Lorraine.

“Then find someone else for the evening. I just… I need to go home. To think about it.” Lorraine said. She turned to look at Elvis, quietly pleading with him and she didn’t know if she would ever be face-to-face with the star again. He could heed her words and decide she wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Think on it. Here,” he said and went to the desk to grab a piece of stationary to write on. “Take the phone number to the room. This will have you contact me directly. If you change your mind, someone will come pick ya up.” He tore the page from the notebook, approaching Lorraine mindfully to offer her the paper. She took it with a shaky hand and Elvis was afraid he might have traumatized the poor girl. 

“Good night, Elvis,” she said, taking the paper from his hand on her way out.

“I think you laid it on too thick,” Larry said, combing through Elvis’ hair to style it for an evening show he planned to attend.

“She’s not like these other women and little girls, man. She doesn’t even react under my persuasion--hell, not for long anyhow. What the hell am I supposed to do if she runs around tellin’ people what happened?” Elvis grumbled, picking at the fabric of the chair he was sat in.

“I doubt she will tell anyone. People are believing less and less in God, so why would they believe you are a vampire?” Larry chastised. “Two extraordinary things but with or without proof, sometimes both are too outlandish to believe in. Give her time.” 

“It’s already been a week, Larry. She would have called by now.” Elvis frowned.

Lorraine didn’t call for another two weeks before her curiosity ate away at her so much she couldn’t take it anymore. The way Elvis kissed her neck and stood close to her stuck with her like the ghost of him was breathing down her neck. He had been so unsure about her thoughts about him while still being able to hear exactly what she thought. The King of Rock and Roll was thrown off by her. So, she kept the whole ordeal to herself because she stood on the fact that no one would believe her if she explained why she ran out on Elvis Presley.

The car came around twelve-thirty and she was at the International by twelve forty-five. She donned a sleek black dress and heels that shimmered in the light; leaving her back, throat, and arms bare. Tonight, she was making it clear that his story would have to be told another time. She still had to figure out his intentions in regard to there being an interview at all. Would there be an exchange of give and take?

She excused herself from her Memphis Mafia escort, explaining that she wanted to grab a drink from the bar. Knowing she had to wait while Elvis finished up his performance and would likely shower before seeing her gave her more time to do as she pleased. He didn’t look too sure about diverting from the course but Lorraine promised she would be at the bar waiting. He caved and she started to open up her black clutch to withdraw some cash. Lorraine downed two drinks by the time she was asked for and they made their way to the elevator.

Her nerves settled into something calmer and slightly more confident as every floor was passed and they rose higher and higher. Lorraine fidgeted with her clutch, digging her thumb into the bulb where it clasped. She was walking forward but she felt like she was floating, not in total control of where she was being taken. A door was opened for her to step inside by herself, the crony staying behind and shutting the door after her. She assumed Elvis told them no one was coming in or out while she was there which gave her some relief. 

Elvis was dressed down from the last time she saw him in a pajama set covering him from top to bottom though the button-up shirt was left open. Hair covered his chest and partially down between toned abs and just below his navel. Lorraine’s lips parted in realization as she hovered in the foyer of the room that she wasn’t giving him credit where credit was due. Elvis stood there observing her, admiring her hair that grew to the sun and the well-fitted dress down to her bare, glistening legs that were defined by the heels she wore. He was struck by how much he was the one who was victim to her. Elvis raised his eyes to her face again and her high cheekbones until their eyes met.

“Come,” he demanded, holding his hand out to her. 

Lorraine knew so few words needed to be said and she didn’t know that she had the right ones to say. She placed her purse onto a nearby table as she made her way over to take Elvis’ hand. 

“Take off your heels.” He said, his voice thick with want and watching her every move.

There was something arousing to him in how he knew she didn’t have to listen to him but chose to. Three weeks had passed and left too much to his imagination. Lorraine obliged, reaching down to hook a finger into one heel and the next. She sunk down half a foot and his lips twitched into a slight smile. He was already towering over her though she was above average height, but now he felt he had the advantage entirely. 

“Have you been drinkin’?” Elvis asked. He led her over to the bed where the covers were already drawn down. Guiding her to the side of the bed to sit, she nodded as he stood above her. 

“Only a little. I’m just so nervous… I forgot that you could smell it that much.” Lorraine said, her face becoming hot though the blush wasn’t completely noticeable on her dark skin.

Elvis slowly started to kneel down and brought his hands to her thighs, letting them slide down to her calves. He hummed and leaned in to press a kiss to the right knee and then the left. Lorraine gulped, watching with parted lips as Elvis moved confidently.

“It’s no bother, honey. Why don’t you lie back for me? I told you I would make you feel good and I keep my promises,” he said.

Lorraine felt some sort of realization and the image of Elvis with his face buried between her legs sat at the front of her mind. She took in a shaky deep breath as she laid back and Elvis sort of followed. His hands slid up along the side of her thighs, hooking into her panties to draw them down away from where he could smell her arousal. He groaned knowing she was turned on the second she walked into the suite. Elvis tossed the underwear aside, hiking her dress up further. He dragged her with ease to the end of the bed so that her heat was right in his face.

“Are you sure you want to…?” Lorraine whispered, giving him an out.

“You have no idea how hard this makes me, baby. You had me wait almost a month to taste you,” he said, moaning as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “I want to taste and know every part of you before we get to me.” He hummed. 

Lorraine twitched just from the softness of his lips where she might have assumed or expected roughness. She tried to wrap her head around Elvis being a vampire, and in some ways she could. The way he drew people in and they bent to his every whim told her that he was being truthful. On the other hand, she knew that meant immortality was more in reach than anyone ever knew or that humans were being fed on like any other animal she could find in a grocery store. 

Elvis dropped his head to where he was beckoned, latching his mouth onto her awaiting clit. 

“Baby, you taste so good…” he groaned in between swipes of his tongue. “I wish you could see how wet you are for me, little girl.”

She moaned out and the simplicity of having Elvis’ mouth on her was enough to turn her on. A man that was considered a superstar wanted to lick and fill her up until she was cumming against his face. He made the most obscene noises as he gripped a hold of her thighs, pinning her sex to his mouth as he suckled and lapped at her relentlessly. Lorraine panted, driving her head back into the bed and hooked her legs over his shoulders.

Elvis enjoyed seeing her come undone because for all of her composure, he didn’t think he could get her to break. As unethical as the entire thing was to come on to a journalist, he never strayed from his desire if it crossed his mind and their profession happened to detail things about him in a certain light. People would say or think what they wanted. That was one thing about humans that never changed. He cocked his head back into Lorraine’s hand she dropped in his hair, urging him forward as his tongue swiped viciously. Her breath faltered and stuttered the closer she got. Elvis played with her sensitive entrance with a manicured fingertip until it was just wet enough, pushing it past twitching and pulsating muscles. He curled the digit up into her, his eyes raising again to watch as she began shaking and losing her breath.

Lorraine dug her feet into his back, whimpering as her climax rocked her entire being and she strained against Elvis. One hand tamped down on her thigh as she tried to escape her pleasure and he hummed his approval, then finally withdrew his soaking index finger. 

“Mm,” he groaned, licking at her cunt one last time before moving to stand up. “Would you like to have sex, honey?” He asked, wiping the back of his mouth with his clean hand. 

Lorraine was busy trying to catch her breath and come down from the high of having a man know what he’s doing between her legs. She could have said he was crazy for asking but he was right to do so in a position such as his. She wanted to give him whatever he wanted if it was always like that. Lorraine watched a crooked smile cross Elvis’ face and she mumbled a curse because she knew he was listening to her thoughts. 

“Tell me yourself,” Elvis said.

“I want you.” Lorraine answered.

She was slow to sit up, her feet touching the floor for balance as she grabbed the hem of her dress to pull it up over her head. Lorraine tossed it to the same spot Elvis left her underwear and peered up at him. He was beautiful in black. His tailored pajamas made his eyes pop like everything else he wore. Lorraine breathed out easily once she brought her heart rate back down and dropped her eyes to the waiting bulge almost eye level with her. Elvis started to shrug off his pajama top to let it fall to the floor as Lorraine dipped her fingers past the band of his pajama pants. His cock sprung up and free as his pants pooled around his ankles. 

“You don’t have to,” he assured her, bringing a hand to the side of her neck. 

“I want to. For a little while,” Lorraine said.

She was quick to silence the idea and opened her mouth for him. Elvis sucked in a breath as she worked the head past her lips and held his gaze doing so. Her cheeks hollowed as she bounced up and down around him.

“Goddamn, baby…” He moaned out, his head falling back. 

Lorraine couldn’t take all of him, at least not all at once. She had to be careful fitting him down into her throat and avoiding teeth by slowing down. She only sped up when it was about half of him in her mouth. Lorraine moaned in return, looking at the curve of his jaw as he drew his head back then brought it back down with closed eyes. He opened them again to look at her and huffed.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby, if you keep it up. Go ‘head and sit up for me.” Elvis breathed, pulling his hips back from her mouth. Lorraine licked her lips as she followed his instructions.

“Where do you want me?” She asked, clearing the hoarseness from her throat.

“Lie on your side with your back to me in the center of the bed,” Elvis said. Lorraine moved again and laid there knowing he would fill the space behind her. His cock poked at her here and there as he adjusted, briefly grabbing at her ass before sliding his hand down to lift up her thigh. “Gimme a kiss, darlin’.” He whispered.

Lorraine lifted her head and flattened her fro, pressing back into Elvis as he cocked his head up then down for their lips to meet. He pressed forward, his wanton lust permeating as they kissed and it deepened. Their tongues curled together and only then did Elvis brush the tip of his length against her sex again. Lorraine reached down between her legs to guide him in and hiccupped as purchase was made. He filled her to the absolute brim, moaning against her lips as he buried the head into her G-spot. Elvis broke the kiss, letting his nose nuzzle the side of her throat and she had almost forgotten until then that he wasn’t just a man.

His hips were slow, unrushed as the late hour of the evening left time to do whatever anyone wanted when everyone was typically asleep. 

“You’ll let me taste you again, won’t you, baby? It won’t hurt for long. I promise.” Elvis whispered, kissing at the side of her neck. 

Lorraine should have been more afraid but somehow she trusted him to not want to hurt her or make her feel bad. She held her leg up and wrenched her hips back as he shifted, reaching a hand around to work at her clit again. She clenched down around him as a moan worked past her lips and he sped up. 

“Okay…” Lorraine agreed, because again he could have anything he wanted as another orgasm bubbled up to the surface.

She was trembling as his hand rubbed a little firmer at her and he rolled them over so she was on more on her stomach than her side. Elvis’ breath was more noticeable then and when her orgasm hit, his teeth were sinking into her. She yelped from a combination of the slight pain that quickly subsided as Elvis’ hips snapped unforgivingly into her. Slapping skin filled the room and her mind was overtaken by complete euphoria that was unlike any drug or climax she ever had before.

Lorraine whimpered helplessly as she heard Elvis moan in between gulps. He slid down close with his weight against her back, snaking an arm around her torso to hold her close. One of his hands was pinned to her hip again, holding her in place as her orgasm settled only to recur. She didn’t know how long that went on, the up and down of cumming until she was too spent to possibly handle it any longer. She panted, trembling as Elvis finally drew his mouth away with his promise in mind to not hurt her. He worried he might make her too lightheaded for her first time and usually first-timers begged for him to continue. Too many years of experience told him that was a bad idea. 

Elvis pulled out, sitting back on his knees and grabbing a cheek to spread her apart to see her abused hole. She turned her head a little more so she could watch him after pushing back her hair unabashedly, his mouth bloodied and his pupils blown. Elvis jerked and pumped his hand around his cock. His heavy-lidded eyes were focused, his mouth hung open as he got closer and closer. Elvis’ face contorted as he came, spurts landing onto Lorraine’s ass and in between to dribble along where she was already dripping from. His hand released her, panting as he caught him on the bed and hunched over Lorraine.

“Fuck, baby,” he said at last.

Elvis looked down at the mess he made and forced himself to straighten up. He moved from where he hovered above Lorraine to lie next to her and blew out a breath. She was still in too much of a daze and he had to reel in his bloodlust while he could.

“I think I’m ready for that interview now…” Lorraine joked, stretching out her legs.

“Tomorrow.” He agreed, leaning over to press a blood-stained kiss to her forehead.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Love In Trouble [Masterpost]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character, Austin Butler x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Original Female Character, Austin Butler,

Rating: Mature

Word Count: TBC

Summary: Lori Presley lives the high life. She has a lovely home, a elegant wardrobe and her parties are the most sought after ticket in town. Not to mention her husband is the King of Memphis. But what if she no longer wants to be the Queen?

Tags/Warnings: This is a mafia au with detective austin butler entering the chat, Memphis Mafia, Detective Austin Butler, Adultery, Infidelity, Love, Angst, Unhappy Marriage, Murder, Court Room Drama in the loosest possible way, AU, Set in the 70s

Notes: I have this idea for a while but I've been deep in my marauders series so I've put it off. Is any of it written? NAH but it'll be coming

If you want to be tagged hmu

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

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five TBC

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @lettersfromvenus @artlesson8892 @presleyenterprise

AUSTIN TAGS

@purejasmine @caitlin1996

[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 !!🩶🩶🦫

[everythingpresley]

“Come up to my room.”

[hauntingkiki]

HIII!!! can i request venture wedding hcs? how would their wedding be like with reader? How would they feel while getting ready?

IM CRYINGGG OMGG

SOMEONE PLEASE REQUEST A WEDDING ONESHOT SO I HAVE AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT🙏🏻

Venture x Reader Wedding Headcanons

OverWatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

- let’s just start this off by saying; BABY IS STRESSING OUTTT!!

- they’re about to marry their best friend. YOU! the most BEAUTIFUL GIRL/PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD

- when they’re changing into their suit/with their groomsmen (a few guy colleagues and some of their guy family members) sloan is getting pep talks and words of encouragement from everyone in that room. not a single bad vibe is in the room!

- wedding theme!: whatever you want it to be. a classic, white wedding? you got it! gothic/vampire? hell yeah!

- ^ but! with your choice of theme; sloan also has some huge crystals (that match the theme ofc) that they’ve gotten from expeditions for table decoration!

- the location was kinda on sloan, they picked where they wanted to have the wedding BUT! they made sure YOU were okay with it before making it the finalized decision. if you didn’t like the location, don’t worry! they have like A MILLION MORE

- everyone in both of your families helped pay for the wedding (if needed), like your parents paid for your dress/suit and sloan’s parents paid for their suit

- when they were at the alter, they were sooo nervous, their hands playing with the rings on their fingers and the bracelets that were around their wrists to calm their nerves

- but when you walked down the isle with your father/father figure, all their nerves just melted away.

- you looked so GOOD in their eyes! their heart was racing, their eyes got watery, their face got hot (they cried) (you did too)

- your vows were pretty standard (if there’s spanish vows then yall did that too!)

- but when yall had your first kiss; you know this sucker dipped you into the kiss, twirling you like in those cheesy romance movies (LIKE IN TANGLED AT THE END)

- and now the reception.

- for the food a verity of sloan’s family meals and your family meals, most of them being hand made to avoid a lot of cost

- alcohol/champagne obviously. all the adults are either drunk asf or tipsy (if you have family who smokes/does drugs, it’s totally up to you if you want that in your environment!! i will not be saying anything about that because it’s very different for everyone)

- the younger kids who can’t drink get something fizzy! like apple cider or something!

- father daughter/mother son dance to whatever song you’d like:)

- sloan did a mother-child(son) dance to songbird by fleetwood mac OR mi cariñito by pepe aguilar

- first dance! sloan could not stop smiling like a fucking idiot, they were SO IN LOVEEE

- you both shed a few tears during the dance (and through the night)

- you two slow danced to (options because i can’t pick)

i only have i eyes for by the flamingos

unchained melody by elvis presley

here, there and everywhere by the beatles

bring it on home to me by sam cooke

amor eterno by rocío dúrcal

- everyone was BAWLING THEIR EYES OUT

- then the music played for the dance floor and it was some great songs! like;

september, earth wind and fire

i wanna dance with somebody, whitney houston

how sweet it is, james taylor

something stupid, frank n nancy sinatra

crazy in love, beyoncé

uptown girl, billy joel

rude, magic!

every little thing she does is magic, the police

and obviously some other songs!

- (FOR THE GIRLS/PEOPLE WEARING DRESSES) yall know the garter toss? where the groom goes under the brides dress to get it off all ‘sexy’ with the most embarrassing song on the planet while your family watched?

- yeah. yall did that.

- obviously with no littles present (14 and younger went somewhere else while this was happening)

- the song? pick your poison

get low, lil jon & the east side boyz

yeah!, usher

earned it, the weekend

let’s get it on, marvin gaye

grind with me, pretty ricky



- ^ COMPLETELY RANDOM, I WAS LOOKING FOR SONGS FOR THE GARTER TOSS AND THE PINK PANTHER THEME STARTED PLAYING…AND WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS BY QUEEN I CANT

- sloan definitely used their teeth to take it off, probably also got a little carried away too; kissing your legs and running their hands up and down before snapping back to reality when their mother literally SCREAMED at them for being under your dress for almost 5 minutes

- after the wedding, the two of you got to your hotel/air bnb and just relaxed, got out of your fancy outfits, took makeup off, showered (together LMAO) and just got comfy!

- you both just kind of talked about the night and what you wanted in the future and other things:)

- let’s just say you two didn’t get a lot of sleep afterwards😳

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

did i just write this all in one sitting? yes. yes i did.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE I LOVED IT!!

would you guys be interested if i made a wedding playlist for the (hypothetical) oneshot?😳

[huramuna]

selkie's song - chapter 3.

night's watch aemond x wildling shapeshifter ofc work is 18+, minors do not interact, lest ye be smited.

this is wholly inspired by lonelymagpies depiction of Night's Watch Aemond. please go check out their beautiful work here!

more worldbuilding and a deeper delve into aemond and euna's ever changing dynamic + a battle! i'm terrible at writing combat so i hope it isn't too egregious. one of the songs of this chapter is "skinwalker" by robbie robertson. i used to listen to this to fall asleep as a kid, hehe.

previous | next chapter

word count: 3.7k

content: smut (eventually, specifics will be under the cut of chapters with it), enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, canon divergence, ofc is a menace to Aemond and he kind of likes it, graphic depictions of violence (this chapter)

(you're the) devil in disguise - elvis presley • skinwalker - robbie robertson

A swim always did well to clear her mind, her fur slicked back against her skin. Her nostrils were plugged close, taut against her muzzle as she bobbed and weaved through the kelp forest. 

Breaching for air, the moon began to rise above the horizon, shifting the tides as it did every day. She needed to shake the exhaustion of the day by running herself even more ragged, testing her limits and gliding through the water like a falling star, the water swirling and flowing past her streamlined body. 

Euna tried to delve deeper into the animalistic part of her brain– the part always there, scratching and screaming to be let free for every moment she was in her human skin. The sea called to her even when she was only feet away from it, even when she was miles inland where she couldn’t smell the salt any longer. A skinchanger always teetered the line between animal and human, an unskilled skinchanger could be stuck in their animal skin forever. Euna had been warned about this so many times by her father, but she didn’t see the harm in it. She wouldn’t totally mind being a seal forever, eating fish and swimming the expanse of the sea.

Her mind wandered back to the purple-eyed crow. She quite liked his scent, it was warm and heady, musky. It reminded her of sitting close to the fire and mayhaps singing the skin of her fish a bit too much under the flame, but it was still delicious and comforting nonetheless. Euna had met other crows before– some of them even lived at her tribe– but none of them were like him. Aemond. He even had a peculiar name. Ae-mond. She spoke it under water, bubbles whizzing out of her mouth and traveling to the surface.

His scent was warm and comforting, but his eye told a different story. His scar paired with his sapphire eye was unusual to her and she wondered how he lost it. When they had stared each other down earlier in the day, she could see shadows dancing past his iris, his pupil dilating in turn as he observed her, as if he was measuring her worth. Euna had stared into countless eyes, living and dead, but none entranced her so like his, reminiscent of a beautiful lavender flower that she liked to put in her tea or braid into her hair during the warmer months. Just past his pupil, the very edge of pain could be seen and she wondered if he saw ghosts dance just beyond his vision, taunting and haunting him just as she did. Could he remember their faces or were they just smudged, out of focus and just out of sight like her family was? 

She still thought of them– her family, even if she couldn’t exactly remember. When they lingered in her peripheral and she would whip around to see them, they would disappear, dawdling just behind her. Over the years, she had come adept at shutting them out. Her papa told her she was sensitive to the afterlife just like their shamans were, but her power was untrained and rampant. She could quiet and dim the specters by swimming and overwhelming her other senses. She never saw them underwater and was ever grateful to the Gods that she could skinchange and escape them. But, every so often, Euna would smell something on the wind, something long locked away that would spring them back to life, their voices whispering to her– those would be times she would sleep in the kelp forest, hugged against stalks of algae, curled into herself and forgetting everything, turning off the human part of her mind and just living as she felt the Gods truly intended her to be.

Bobbing to the surface and taking in another gulp of air, she saw movement on the hilltop near the crest of the camp, overlooking the entirety of the valley. She smelled the air, expecting to inhale the familiar scent of her own tribe– a mixture of sea air and musk– but a pungent smell filled her nostrils. It smelled of burned bones and pervasive cracked pepper, mingled with stinging pine nettle. This wasn’t of her tribe, someone else was on the hill, observing. She blinked her eyes profusely, grumbling at the way her seal eyes couldn’t focus well outside water, everything above the surface. Even with her poor eyesight in this form, she could see multiple figures.

Diving back down, she plunged towards home, towards the sea door. It was a cave connected to her and papa’s house which led directly to the sea. It was built by Atohi for Euna to constantly have a way to dip in and out of the water with ease. She bursted out of the opening that filtered to the sea in the cave, drenched with water. It pooled at her feet and squished against the rocky ground as she flung open the sea door.

Aemond and Atohi were sitting around the fire, turning towards her direction as she all but barreled into the home.

“Euna? You look spooked– you see a whale?”

“No, papa,” she murmured, pushing away some of the wet hair sticking to her forehead, “Saw people. Smelled them. Those Haunted Forest fuckers are here– they must’ve followed,” she took a breath, her hands shaking slightly. Usually after a swim, she needed to eat profusely to regenerate all the energy burned– but there wasn’t time for that. Looking to Aemond, who’s cheek was puffed, fish cake in hand, “Can I trust you, crow?”

He swallowed the piece of cake, putting the half-eaten food down. “Unsure. Can I trust you?”

Euna groaned, pacing towards him. The sea water dripped from her body onto his leather clothes. “I don’t know– probably! That whole… killing you business, I didn’t mean it– just wanted to…” she growled, taking the Catspaw dagger still stashed at her hip, offering it to him, hilt first. Her hand was quivering against the handle, “I trust you. I probably shouldn’t– but I don’t have time to whine and moan about it. Please,” her voice was a hushed whisper, her mismatched eyes wide, her pupils trembling slits. “Help us.”

Aemond regarded her carefully, looking to the offered blade, then back to her. In his eye, she must’ve looked quite pathetic. She was soaked from head to toe, hair plaited to her face, her coat sticking to her like a second skin, eyes wild. Cautiously, he lifted his gloved hand and took the blade from her. “Very well. I’ll offer my assistance– only because your father has been courteous to me and given me the best meal I’ve had in moons. You are still a hellion.”

Euna let out a puff, nodding slowly. She turned to her father, “Papa–”

“I got it under control, Euna,” he responded gruffly, his hand going to his cane and twisting the bottom half from the top, revealing a sharpened dragonglass core. He laid it across his lap, crossing his arms over his chest. “I ain’t helpless yet.”

Aemond had a glint of amusement in his eye at the old man’s resilience, offering a hand to Atohi. “Thank you for the meal.”

“You’ll be back for another, son. Go kill some of those fuckers n’ I’ll make you up some of that fried venison we talked about.”

“You told him about fried venison– with gravy and rice? That’s my favorite!” Euna whined, then snapped back, “Not the time– let’s go, Aemond. You know how to wield a blade?” she asked as they stepped out of the abode, propping a stone against the corner of it.

Aemond gave her an unamused look. “Of course I do– I trained with the finest of knights in the Red Keep. My mentor is… was Ser Criston Cole,” he twirled the dagger in his hand, furrowing his brow, “... those words mean nothing to you. In short, yes, I can wield a blade. Mayhaps better than… what, those ‘Haunted Forest fuckers’?” 

“Mmm, always encroaching. If you don’t know ‘bout us free folk, most are warmongering, always wanting what others have. We down here at the coast are pretty happy with what we’ve got– don’t want more than we need. All tribes aren’t the same, and many of ‘em are happy to kill and pillage and take and take and take…” her voice trailed off as she unsheathed her dragonglass dagger. Nodding her head to Aemond, they pressed down close to the cliff wall, making their way up to the hilltop overlook. “... not sure how many, be prepared, watch my back,” she whispered, “... please.”

Aemond gave her a stiff nod in return, wishing he had more than just the dagger to defend them– but he made do. Not only that, he had a small wish to show up the tiny wildling woman and show her that it was a fluke that she caught him in the first place. If she was only wielding a dagger, then so was he. 

Finally reaching the crest of the hill, Euna saw five figures ahead, their torches snuffed into coals. They were about four feet away, the closest one crouched with his back turned. She slunk over the incline and lunged at the closest one, sinking her dagger into the base of his neck. 

Aemond watched with a wide eye as she went feral, the tip of her weapon poking out of the front of the intruder’s throat– he made a sickly gurgling noise, falling to the ground before he could even grab his weapon. One of his companions looked over, hastily sparking flint to try and light their torches once more, but was met with a swift end by Aemond’s Valyrian steel, sliced vertically up his throat. 

One of them managed to light a torch, whooping and hollering– there were more than five, at least four more filtering out from the sparse forest twenty feet away. Aemond reached down to the bleeding out wildling, grabbing the glinting steel at his waist. It was castle-forged steel, a shortsword no doubt pilfered from a crow– no, fucking Night’s Watchman, why did he think to call them crows?

Twirling the blade, he stowed the small dagger at his waist and steadied his form, his right leg behind him as one of the other wildlings came towards him. Their weapons clashed, steel against bone spear. The sheer strength of the man caught Aemond off guard slightly and it’d definitely been some time since he actually properly fought. Staggered, he whipped backward and parried the next attack, sending the pommel of his shortsword into the man’s nose, hearing the bone and cartilage crunch. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his blood felt like it was on fire. He split the man down the middle, kicking him back to dislodge his weapon. He felt fucking good, he hadn’t felt like this since… since… 

His mind flashed back to Storm’s End and he lost his train of thought, not prepared for the next opponent to barrel at him, broad-axe raised high. Aemond held up the length of his sword horizontally to parry or stagger– it did more damage to himself than his attacker, his weapon skidding off to the side. Everything felt in slow motion as he reached for the Catspaw dagger once more, only having seconds to spare before the axe cleaved him in two–

A flash went past him. It was white, furry and huge. The light of the fallen enemies revealed one of the largest wolves he’s ever seen– no, the largest wolf. It was a fucking direwolf. He’d only read about them in the stories, how Northerners kept them as pets until they went extinct. He watched the direwolf tear into the man’s neck, ripping sinew from bone until his screams died down. Then, it turned towards Aemond, padding slowly to him. Was he really about to get mauled by a wolf? 

It sniffed him, a glint of recognition coming over its gaze. Aemond still had the dagger raised in a defensive position when he heard Euna yelling to him. His head swiveled to her– she was grappling the back of a wildling almost two times her size, drenched in blood and dirt.

“Ours, Aemond– wolf’s ours, n’ any other animals!” she shouted before sinking her teeth into the man’s shoulder, beating on his head with her fists.

Ours. Ours? What in the Seven hells did that even mean– 

The wolf stood on its hind legs, taking the shape of a woman. She was older, hair peppered with white. She offered a hand to Aemond, “Smelled Atohi’s fishcakes on you– knew I didn’t have to rip your throat out too, eh?” she was wearing the pelt of a wolf, no, the wolf that she just was.

Cautiously, he took her hand, his eye wide.

“Euna ain’t told ya? Shit– it’ll be real clear in a minute, crow,” she gave a laugh, howling and wild, reminiscent of a wolf. “Arms up, more are comin’.”

Aemond watched as more men filtered out from the forest– but for every man that came out of the forest, at least two animals descended on them. His heart was thrumming in his chest, blood screaming in his ears. He watched two bears cleave down four men at once, a bison gore a man from the abdomen up, an eagle swooping from the sky and gouging out the eyes of an enemy, a mountain lion descending from a tree onto the back of some poor fucker.

His head was swimming– he must be going mad, surely. That must be it, he must be in some sort of bad dream and he would wake up at Castle Black again and be served shit slop for breakfast. His vision became fuzzy as the battle came to a close– their side was victorious. 

“Aemond?” Euna called out to him, her voice sounding far away, “C’mon.” she interlooped her arm with his and pulled him up. “Ayita, will you tell papa everything’s alright? Crow’s moon-eyed, gonna get us cleaned up.”

“Sure thing, Euna.” the wolf woman from earlier nodded before shifting back into her wolf skin, dragging a lifeless corpse by the arm like a ragdoll.

Euna lead him up the cliffside to a rocky outcrop against a higher palisade, where there was a cave opening. Inside, it was lit up by some bioluminescent mushrooms, leading to a pool of water in the back. It was warm inside of the cave, like it had been at Euna and Atohi’s house– except there was no fire. Glancing at the pool, Aemond saw the steam rising from it. It was a hot spring of sorts, somewhat like the ones that supposedly were under Winterfell. 

She placed him down against the cool stone wall. “... so,” she hummed, placing her hands behind her back, “... what do you think?”

He ran a hand through his hair, sitting against the wall with one leg out and one propped up, his knee bouncing. “‘What do I think?’ About what, exactly? That your tribe is full of skinchangers? That skinchangers are real?” 

She shrugged her shoulders innocently. “Something like that.”

“... well. It is certainly a shock seeing a wolf turn into a woman and back again like its nothing– but… considering my family’s unique traits, it isn’t much of a stretch.”

“Unique traits?”

“We’re dragon riders. We have the blood of the dragon running through our veins and can bond with a dragon.”

“Dragon… riders,” Euna repeated, almost a little dumbfounded, “That’s weird.”

Aemond scoffed. “Your people turn into animals! That isn’t weird?”

“Nope.”

“Gods– okay, so do you turn into an animal, too? I didn’t see you tearing someone limb from limb as a… weasel.”

“Yes, I do. I’m not a fucking weasel,” she growled, crossing her arms over her chest, “You can quickly learn who in the tribe turns and what they turn into,” slowly, she peeled her cloak from her body– she was absolutely stained in blood– and showed it to him, exemplifying the webbed feet and small snout, “by the cloak they wear.”

Aemond stared at her for a long moment. Then, he burst into a fit of laughter– genuine, heartfelt laughter. His raucous chorting ricocheted off of the walls of the cave, booming around them. A tear formed at his eye. “Is that a… seal? A fucking seal– so, what do you do? Throw fish at your enemy? Splash water at them? Gods, that’s the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

Euna glared at him, placing her cloak aside gently, making sure it was safe before she descended upon him, pounding her fists against his chest, growling and screeching. “Don’t be rude! I’ll fucking scratch your other eye out too, Aemond!” she hissed, her face contorted into a rage, her teeth bared and gnashing near his face.

He was still laughing, finding her rage amusing. He let her pound her fists on his chest until she exhausted herself. He grabbed both of her wrists and stilled them, earning him an agitated growl from her. “Calm down, pipsqueak. It ‘twas only a jest. I’m sure that… seals even have their uses amongst direwolves and cave bears, hm? Like bringing back tasty fish for your father to cook up– like a dog.”

Euna slammed her forehead against his, dazing them both for a moment. “Maybe I will kill you– you’re fucking rude, Aemond!”

“No, I don’t think you will.”

“Let go and I’ll show you.”

“Hmm. No.”

“Aemond.”

“No.”

Their faces were inches apart and Euna was snapping her teeth at him like some kind of rabid animal– she would be better suited as a snapping turtle than a seal, mayhaps. Aemond encapsulated both of her wrists in one of his hands, his other one coming under her chin to still her head, staring at her. 

Her face was splattered with blood and dirt, her mismatched eyes staring daggers at him. Her chest heaved up and down from the exertion of her fit, the tension in her body relaxing as her breaths evened out. She sniffled slightly, pouting out her bottom lip. “I won’t kill you. Papa would be cross. He likes you.”

Aemond perked a brow. “He’s known me all for about four hours.”

“He is a good judge of character, I guess– I still don’t like you. But you can live.”

“Oh, I can? How gracious of you, little seal.”

“Don’t call me that. I will bite you.” 

“Hm,” he hummed, letting go of her chin, but not before giving it a little tug and rasping his thumb over her bottom lip. “So how does it work? The… skinchanging?”

“It’s inherited– the pelts,” she explained after giving a little bite to his thumb before shoving off of him, pulling the leather cord from her braid and undoing it, her fingers parting her locks, “Passed down from generations, leading all the way from the children of the forest, who gifted a pelt of each animal to our ancestors.” she thumbed the drawstring to her shirt, undoing it and promptly taking it off, tossing it aside, leaving her bare chested.

Aemond’s eye widened, the tips of his ears warming before he looked away. “Fucking hell– have you no shame?”

Euna looked at him, puzzled. “... shame? About what? Baring my body without clothes?” she snorted, kicking off her trousers and throwing them at Aemond– they landed with a wet slap on his chest. “You kneelers are something else. A naked body won’t kill you, Aemond. Come on,” she dipped her toes in the warm pool before slipping in. She hung at the edge, elbows over the side, “You’re dirty and you smell like shit. Wash.”

He didn’t move. 

“I won’t stare at your cock if that’s what you’re worried about, don’t matter if it's small or nothin’.” she giggled. 

“You’re a fucking menace, you know that?” he growled, giving in to her goading— mostly because he was covered in blood and dirt and probably did smell like shit. He stripped out of his Night’s Watch garb, the cool air from the outside of the cave wafting in and chilling his skin. He was bare before her, and she kept her gaze above his abdomen, thankfully. As far as he saw anyway, she snuck a few glimpses between his legs out of sheer curiosity. 

He sunk into the water, feeling the warmth wash over him. It was cleansing and calming, the heat permeating through his skin and bones to his very core. Aemond let out a drawn out sigh, as if some great weight had been lifted. His thumb hooked under his eyepatch and he tossed it towards where she had her coat. His head thrummed slightly, the weight of the sapphire pressing against his skull. Throwing all proprietary to the wind, he pried the gem from his socket, rolling it in his palm for a moment before setting it aside. 

Euna watched him carefully, most of her body submerged in the water. Her nose and eyes were the only things above the surface, her hair floating out around her in flowing tendrils. 

They locked eyes for a moment and the world fell silent as she slowly waded towards him, her gaze wide. 

He looked back down at her, feeling an odd stirring of something within him— the same thing he felt when he first saw her. His hand floated towards her, pushing her head above the water, his thumb grazing over her bottom lip again. 

She bit it again, but not hard this time. It was soft, the pad of his thumb pressing onto the tip of her tongue as they came closer together. He smeared the wetness onto her lip before their breaths both hitched at the same time, lips melding together. They both didn’t know what sparked it, mayhaps the heat of battle, their blood cooling, but neither of them questioned it as their mouths moved against one another, the heat rising in both of them, the sound of the water swirling and the wet smacks of their lips and tongues dancing echoed in the cave.

Little did they know, lost in their sudden passions— they were being watched.

taglist: @heavenly1927

[wizardfrog69]

Consider: sigma x reader awkwardly trying to make out but their both new at relationships. And other related fluff.

Great idea! Thanks for the request!

'•.¸♡ first time ♡¸.•'

Sigma x gn!reader

Fluff

Bsd masterlist

Enjoy!

Sigma is a gentleman and he will do the gentleman thing of asking to kiss you.

Idk why but he's holding your hand, like it's something the both of you haven't done before and he's holding your hand to show that he's there for you and to not be scared/nervous but it's also for him so he won't get nervous or more nervous.

He is nervous cuz it's his and yours first time and he doesn't want to mess it up.

He's very gentle and slow when kissing you, maybe he'll quicken his pase later on but at the moment he is going slowly.

He is blushing.

Like you can feel how warm his face is, but after a while it cools down.

When you pull away you can just see his really, really red face and he'll want to look away but he doesn't or tries not to atleast.

Idk if it's just me and needing to listen to music 24/7 but if there's music playing in the background it's probably something like can't help falling in love by Elvis Presley or other romantic song.

Also he is still holding your hands.

He doesn't know what to do with his hands until you tell him to let go of your hands, then he probably moves his hands around your waist.

You two practice kissing each other till you find what's best for you.

Sigma will get less nervous and shy while kissing you after time passes and he would want to kiss you more and more, but he is more of a peck-on-the-lips kinda guy.

He will stay gentle but he might be a slightly quicker kisser after some time, ofc if you want him to go slower/faster or rougher he will.

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

Yk I never really listen to Presley, I always thought his music wasn't to my taste, or atleast the parts I've listened to but his blue hawaii album sounds good so far.

As always, have a wonderful day/night, and don't forget to hydrate

-Az

[elvisprettymama]

Thats all right mama’

Paired: Elvis x reader

Summary: Its your first concert, and your excited to see him…elvis himself, but after the concert something happens with you and elvis

Warnings: !Smut! Belly bulge, F and M receiving, cussing,

Y/n’s POV:

Here i am……..26 and cooped up in my house all day, well at least i have Jessica,Marlana,Marci,and Marilyn with me. My best friends….i walk into the living room with a 5 glasses in my hand with a bottle of wine, “girls did y’all hear about that delicious man who’s coming in our town for his concert?” I turn to Jessica “who are you talking about jess” i ask with a smirk on my face as i began to sit down putting the glasses down on the table.

“Elvis fuckin presley, thats who” she says smiling, “oh my GODDDD” we all start squealing, “but wait…..how will we get in, were broke” lana says frowning. “Wellllll, soooo you know eddie right….” jess says giggling “so eddie knew Elvis’s friend Red, and he introduced us so then we started talking and we had amazing sex, so now we have free tickets girls” she says laughing “omg jess you are such a genius” marci says laughing, “oh god jess” Marilyn says pouring the wine into our glasses.

Eventually we start talking about our high school and the boys we thought were hot and why, “im hungryyyy” jess says frowning, “we can call fix dinner together” marci proposes “okay lets do it” we all chime in, we began to cook. It was fun, we had a great time and it was around 9 so we decided to stay up for a little and alk more until we got tired.

“hey girls, im feeling exhausted so im gonna head up to bed” marci says standing up, we all agree and we head upstairs to our rooms. I sigh feeling tired, i began to take off my shoes and my dress, then i do my hair for tomorrow and i brush my teeth and i put on my nightgown. Turning ofc my lights i fall asleep.

The Next Day….

Y/n’s POV:

I wake up to the sound of loud music playing, confused and groggy i stand up, putting on my robe and heading downstairs, I am greeted by the girls “ good morning are you ready to go see Elvis” jess asks happily, “ yeah are you” lana adds in “ well as it is my first concert, I’m very excited” i reply smiling “ how do you sleep” marci asks while cooking the eggs, “ I slept all right, how did you guys sleep” i replied getting some orange juice. “ we slept pretty good.” they responded

We had eaten breakfast and talked for a while, then, after breakfast was finished we went in the living room and played a couple of games by this time we realized it was already 4 o’clock in the afternoon, which was the time that jess knew we needed to get ready.

“Hey girls, its time to go get ready so lets go” jess says laughing, we go upstairs and i go in my room to find my red dress, and my red heels with my red pocketbook. My theme was red tonight, i walked into my bathroom and turned on the shower while getting undressed.

I get in the shower and i start to scrub my body, making sure i get every spot, then i grab my razor and i start to save everywhere, i finished and rinsed my body off under the water, i turned the water off and i stepped on my floor towel while drying my feet.

Grabbing my body towel, wrapping it around me i walk into my room and i start to dry off, once im dried off i grab the lotion and i apply it and i start to get dressed, i finish getting dressed and i start to do my hair and makeup. I apply my lipstick and i start to put on accessories and my perfume.

I hear a knock on my door “come in” i say excited, lana, jess, marci and marilyn come in looking as beautiful as ever, “your so gorgeous” jess exclaims, “you look so good” lana squeals, “thank you girls, its time i think” i say and we head downstairs to the car

We arrive at the concert place, we get out and we are escorted to the front line of the concert, it starts and elvis comes out and god……did he look sexy….his hair…..his body…….his face glistening in the light……his lips…..his movements…..his voice….his eyes….just made me feel things ive never felt before……it was like he was a god on the stage

Screaming like the fan girl i was, he started singing and we were just screaming and blushing, we made eye contact, I instantly look away blushing. After few songs the concert is over, and i began to go find the girls when lana come over to me “y/nnnn….elvis wants to see youuuuu in the backkk, have funnn” she says in a songy voice

I walk to the back eager but nervous to meet him, i get to his dressing room and i knock on the door lightly, he comes over and smiles “hello pretty mama, come in” he says smiling, i walk in and he closes the door, “so….i hear your a pretty big fan of mine aren’t you mama” he says smirking while pouring bourbon in two glasses.

“Y-yes i am, ive been a big fan for years, its very nice to meet you Mr. Presley” i say smiling, “nice to meet ya too honey, oh and call me elvis honey” he says smirking and handing me the drink, “so how old are you” he says sitting down “26….” I say drinking, we engaged in small talk for a while until we realized it was very late. “Elvis is really late, i should get going” i say with a little sadness in my voice. “Oh i suppose it is, may i drive you home” i he says smiling, “of course elvis” i smile

Elvis’s POV:

I waited on the girl to come, any second, she was so beautiful, her smile……her eyes….. her lips….her body….god she was perfect….. i started to day dream about her until it got cut short by a small little knock. I open the door to reveal the pretty girl “hello pretty mama, come in” i say smiling, she walks in very quietly and shyly, i close the door, “so….i hear your a pretty big fan of mine aren’t you mama” i say smirking while pouring us a drink.

“Y-yes i am, ive been a big fan for years, its very nice to meet you Mr. Presley” she says smiling sweetly, “nice to meet ya too honey, oh and call me elvis honey” i say smirking and handing her the drink, “so how old are you” i say sitting down “26….” she says drinking, we start to talk about our interests and our likings and dis-likings, she looked so beautiful. “Can i…kiss you” i ask her “yes” she responds, i kiss her softly and passionately, her hands roaming up and down my body, i began to kiss her neck, making my way down to her pussy, i saw how wet she was

“So wet for me” i saw smirking and taking off her panties, throwing them to the side “y/n, before we go any further, is this what you want” i ask softly “yes…i want this elvis” she says groaning, i began to rub her sensitive clit, while eating her out “you taste so fuckin good pretty mama” i say groaning in satisfaction, i begin to go faster hearing her moan and whimper my name as i devoured her.

“God elvis! Fuck your so good” she clenched around my fingers, “im gonna cum elvis, fuck” she says whimpering “not yet baby, i want you to cum on my dick” i stop as i take off my pants, she flips me over, kissing down my stomach. She grabs my cock and starts to stroke it slowly, i groan at the contact of her hand

She starts sucking on the tip, “fuck p-pretty mama it feels so good” i moan, she bobs her head up and down, making groan and moan, “fuck fuck fuck, good god mama, your doing so good” i say leaning my head back moaning “im gonna cum” i say as my cock twitches in her mouth, she stops “i want you to cum inside of me” she says

I flip us over, and i slowly enter her, letting her adjust to my size she nods, as a sign for me to move, i start thrusting into her slowly and softly “faster please” she says, i start to pound into her little pussy, watching how my cock stretched her pussy out, watching her belly bulge while i fucked her “fuck fuck , yes im gonna cum elvis” she says, “cum for me mama, let it all out come on” i say groaning getting close to my end too, “im cumming” we both say as we cum in union, after a few more thrusts i pull out

“Shit…..that was really good” she says smiling, “i know” i say laughing, she kisses me, i get up and i clean her up and i clean me up, we get dressed again and we start listening to records of mine while dancing, the way her hips move and her body sways to the music is just….so angelic, we dance for what feels like forever, i started to notice it was getting late, i hoped she didn’t notice because i didn’t want our time to end

“Elvis is really late, i should get going” she says with sadness in her voice, i didn’t want her to leave, i didn’t want our time to be over. “Oh i suppose it is, may i drive you home” i say smiling, hoping that i get a positive answer from such a beauty, “of course elvis” she smiles, we set our glasses down and we grab our coats and leave my room

We walk to the car, i open her door and i close it when shes in, i walk to the other side and get in and i start driving, the drive was quiet due to her falling asleep on my shoulder, she looked so peaceful and precious….after a while we had gotten to her house, i shake her softly “y/n” i whisper.

She wakes up and yawns softly, “thank you elvis” she says smiling and hugging me “anytime…could we have dinner sometime” i ask “sure i would love that” she says smiling, she opens the door and begans to walk to her door “i dont get a goodnight kiss” i say teasing her, she walks back up to the car and kisses me passionately but softly

Her lips were so tender and sweet and plump, “goodnight elvis” she says softly and walks to her door and she unlocks her door and looks back, i wave and she waves back and enters and shuts the door , she was so beautiful, so angelic, i drive off and head home….what a good concert

[liptonwashere]

requests for edits are always open!

about me

My first name is Samantha. I go by either Sam or Lena; whichever one you like.

I'm a 22 year old self-taught editor from Venezuela. I make BoB and The Pacific edits while trying to survive life, yaaay :)

INTJ 4w5. Aquarius.

Spanish / English

I love calisthenics, Carwood Lipton, music, baking, reading, economics, and editing ofc :)

edits

bob lookscreen

winnix - american teenager

speirs - be agressive!

bob - skyfall

bob - battle of the bulge

speirton

bob - soldier by fleurie

bob - i ain't worried

bob - spanish sahara

speirs - maneater

bob and the pacific parallels pt. 1

george luz - i'll be around

eugene roe - l'enfer

the beauty of band of brothers

john basilone and lena riggi - the ghost of you

masters of the air - in the air tonight

interests/fandoms

🎵 music (all over the place): the smiths, radiohead, dpr ian, kendrick lamar, elvis presley, nothing but thieves, mac demarco, arctic monkeys, muse, taylor swift, lady gaga, nf, conan gray, onerepublic, mitski, taemin, my chemical romance, queen, paramore, troye sivan, hozier, frank sinatra, agust d, jungkook, gemini, monsta x, one ok rock, sabrina carpenter, lana del rey, natalia lafourcade.

📚 books: all quiet on the western front, testament of youth, goodbye to all that, storm of steel, poilu (louis barthas), sassoon's poems, the great gatsby, poe's short stories, crime and punishment, no longer human, the brothers karamazov, frankenstein, the art of war.

📺 tv shows/animated series/anime: band of brothers, the pacific, generation kill, hannibal, sherlock, the legend of korra, arcane, hxh, snk, peaky blinders, castlevania, the boys, silo, only murders in the building, brooklyn nine-nine, the office, true detective, the punisher, daredevil, hawkeye, the mandalorian, andor.

🎥 fav movies: the pianist, the godfather, top gun maverick, spirit: stallion of the cimarron, a knight's tale, blade runner 2049, the grand budapest hotel, the dark knight, jojo rabbit, 1917, knives out, sound of metal, parasite, the gentlemen, kingsman, into the spider-verse, hacksaw ridge, sicario, the big short, whiplash, prisoners, inglourious basterds, the winter soldier, good bye lenin!

TikTok

Instagram

Ko-Fi

that's a wrap!

[surferblues]

stay in bed | e.p

warnings SHORT, 18+ only minors dni, slight praise kink, dumbificaton, oral,ex!, softdom!elvis, and ofc sexual themes.

pairing boyfriend!elvis presley x fem!reader

He was insufferable. He knew what he was doing, but you were not going to stay in bed - you were not going to give him what he wanted.

With his heavy arm pulling you against his heavy chest, making sure you wouldn't be able to move - it was going to be beyond hard getting out of his grasp without waking him up.

Your's and Elvis's career's weren't much different, with you both being in Hollywood's eye and tabloids for your looks every week - you could say you and him were Hollywood's hottest couple of the sixties.

He had the voice and the pretty looks, and you had the acting and the pretty looks - not much of a big difference. You knew about the bets and flashy headlines put on your relationship and how long it would last.

articles claiming no longer than a month! but you and elvis had surpassed your month anniversary long ago. you two had met filming, him being the lead man and you the starring lady - cliche? very much.

he and you kept your relationship quiet and on the low for a few months, but god, he was head over heels! you were bound to get caught in public smooching, because quite frankly, he couldn't keep his hands to himself!

prime example, being now - the current situation you were in.

you were going to be late fo rehearsal if he didn't release you, if given any other chance, you would love to be in the arms of the man you loved most - anytime but now!

you slowly tried to lift his arms up, being quiet and careful. "Baby stay still," He murmured in a daze, pulling you even closer. Elvis's grazed his arms from where they wrapped around your torso, placing both of his hands on either side of your waist.

"elvis, I've gotta' get up." you pushed his chest away, but with him being much stronger than you - you didn't get far. "no, stay in bed with me." he slightly opened his eyes to get sight of you - pouting his lips .

"you're so pretty in the morning,honey, y'know that?" he cooed groggily, placing kisses on your collarbone as he parted your thighs with his knee.

"elvis, you know im busy today." you groaned, but your words were quickly cut short when you felt his hands grazing towards your lace panties - that and alongside your thin bra were the only things covering your body.

"oh, honey, i can be quick and easy with you." he rasped, cooing at you as if you were sensitive as fine china. he slowly began tampering with your panties, slipping down to your knees - he's done this too many times, he's perfected it by now.

"besides, y'always tell me how good i am with my hands. why let them go to waste?" he chuckled lowly, his cold fingers slithering dangerously close towards your folds.

"don't twist my words." you whimpered, you were in too deep now to refuse him. Elvis slipped two fingers into you without warning, making your jaw drop as you let out a breathy moan.

but before the shout of pleasure could slip from your lips, elvis slickly placed his lips on yours - swallowing the moan.

while his other fingers were pumping in and out of your whole, his hand slithered on your neck as the heated kiss intensified - his thumb pressing down lightly on your neck.

Elvis pulled his fingers out of you and began kissing down your neck to your collarbone, "ill be right back, honey." he winked, leaving you confused and needy. he moved from the side you, and used your parted legs as an advantage.

Elvis positioned himself between your legs, placing bold kisses own your stomach, repositioning himself so he was completely under the blankets now. You felt him peeling your panties down your thighs slowly before his mouth immediately came in contact with your heat.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Love In Trouble [Part One]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character, Austin Butler x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Original Female Character, Austin Butler,

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2576

Summary: Lori Presley lives the high life. She has a lovely home, a elegant wardrobe and her parties are the most sought after ticket in town. Not to mention her husband is the King of Memphis. But what if she no longer wants to be the Queen?

Tags/Warnings: This is a mafia au with detective austin butler entering the chat, Memphis Mafia, Detective Austin Butler, Adultery, Infidelity, Love, Angst, Unhappy Marriage, Murder, Court Room Drama in the loosest possible way, AU, Set in the 70s

Notes: The first couple chapters are a bit slow going but we'll meet Lori and Elvis soon I promise. Looking to post every other week with this one :) Enjoy

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

Ever since he was a little boy Austin Butler had loved the sun. There was just something about it; the way it shined basking everything it covered in a golden hue or how everyone seemed a little happier whenever it was out. He supposed it was because it made him feel like he was at home in California, a place he had been missing quite a bit recently, the clunky fit of her new job and his run down flat making him yearn for palm trees and ocean breeze. He’d even take his old partner at this rate, a curmudgeonly old man knocking on the door of retirement and not one to care about a young detective trying to find his feet in a new precinct. Though if there was one thing he desperately missed about home it was the fact that the Californian heat couldn’t wreak half as much havoc on a dead body like the balmy air of Memphis did.

After working in homicide for so long he’d figured he’d gotten used to all the smells that a ripe cadaver could hold but in this tiny apartment with no air conditioner and the contending June temperatures he was proved wrong. He held his breath as he ducked under the police tape cursing himself for having eaten not so long ago as his turkey sandwich did cartwheels inside him. Then again he supposed it could be worse he could be the guy splayed out on the floor in front of him lying in a pool of his own blood, his eyes still staring out glassy and cold.  Austin sighed.

Even though his entire job was murder it somehow never got any easier. The number of dead bodies he’d seen didn’t take that sickly feeling away whenever he was confronted by his latest victim. Though admittedly he wondered if that was less to do with a life being snuffed out too soon or the fact he knew that at some point he’d have to take this news to their friends and family and rip their world apart. It was a grief he’d known himself, one that never got easier no matter how much time or distance you shoved between yourself and it.

Given that the coroner had yet to arrive it meant that the crime scene was technically still closed and so he was careful to keep his distance when he bent down beside the body, wrinkling his nose at the fresh waft of decomposition. The guy was young, no more than early twenties if he’d had to guess, and attractive too in a boyish sort of way. Though they were lifeless now he could tell his pale blue eyes were striking and had no doubt once complimented the guy’s skin tone even if it was now waxy and pallid. In fact the only detracting feature was the bullet wound to his temple which he had no doubt looked better on this side than the one that had landed face down, spewing blood onto the beige carpet and turning it a deep shade of brown. 

‘There’s gunpowder on his face,’ his partner, Detective John Melling, said as he appeared from nowhere, his errand to find the manager of the place apparently done with.

‘Yeah I know, a close shot,’ Austin said, pulling up from where he was crouched and trying to ignore the way his slacks stuck to the back of his knees as if glued there by sweat, ‘which means that bullet is probably somewhere in that bookshelf.’

‘Good luck with that one,’ John snorted. Austin rolled his eyes. He liked John. He was a good detective, smart and good with families, but he, like most of the other detectives in Shelby County, had yet to make his mind up about the newcomer from California. And so he treated him as the rest did, with caution, until he proved his worth which in this instance meant finding a bullet amongst a backdrop of wood and wall. 

As John moved away to rifle through the man’s mail Austin moved around the room, stopping first at the bookshelves. He could see the path it had taken, ripping a novel in half as it hurried to its final destination only that looked to be out of reach and so he made a note to circle back to it. After that he moseyed on looking for his first impression, one that was building bit by bit until he spotted an older bald man standing by the uniformed officer at the police tape.

‘Can I help you?’ Austin asked the man who had been staring at the body as if in a trance. Austin moved to block his view, feeling a sudden urge to protect his victim as if he was now exposed as if he hadn’t already been ogling the guy himself. 

‘Uh, no, I er,’ the man mumbled. John barely looked up from the stack of envelopes as he said, ‘he’s the one who called it in. Landlord.’

‘Oh,’ Austin said, moving towards the man so that they were just separated by the doorframe and police tape. Again the landlord’s eyes flitted back to the body, his colour paling as he suppressed a dry heave. Austin cleared his throat, diverting his attention as he asked, ‘you see anything uh?’

‘Geoff, Geoff Halton,’ the landlord said, ‘and uh no. Like I told your friend I was just coming to collect the rent.’

‘When’s that due?’ Austin asked.

‘First of the month,’ Geoff replied. Austin raised an eyebrow.

‘And you waited,’ he paused, checking his watch for the date, ‘what five days to come and ask for it? That doesn’t sound like any landlord I’ve ever had.’

‘Well he’s never normally late so I gave him a few extra days,’ Geoff said as he pulled a crinkled-up handkerchief from the pocket of his slacks so that he could dab his sweaty brow, the perspiration nothing to do with the outside temperature. Austin knew he was being unfair that the likelihood of this weathered middle aged man having anything to do with this was low but he had always found putting the first responder under pressure to be a good technique. In their desperation to prove their innocence they offered up more evidence which looking around the bare bones of this guy’s apartment couldn’t be a bad thing.

‘Five’s a lot of days,’ Austin countered.

‘Like I said he’s never been any trouble and I’d rather have one good tenant a day or two behind once in a while than a nightmare one on time. But when he still didn’t swing by my office I thought something might be up,’ Geoff replied.

‘So when he didn’t pay up you came around?’ Austin asked, receiving a nod in return.

‘I knocked but there was no answer,’ Geoff replied.

‘Did you let yourself in?’ Austin asked, his eyes surveying the wood of the door for any scuffs or marks. If he had done it was likely that any prints on the door handle would be useless. 

‘I have the master key,’ Geoff said, adding in protest when he saw Austin deflate, ‘but I only ever use it for emergencies! And when I came in I could smell, well, that. I saw him lying there and I knew there ain’t no use checkin’ he was still alive so I called you guys.’

‘Do you know his name?’ Austin asked, suddenly realising he’d been poking around in this man’s life without even knowing his most basic detail.

‘Tony,’ Geoff replied.

‘Tony what?’ Austin pressed.

‘Bowen,’ John replied, holding up an envelope as Austin looked his way before turning his attention back to the landlord.

‘Did he live here alone?’ he asked.

‘Yeah,’ Geoff replied.

‘Any relatives?’ Austin pressed, the mugginess of the room making this feel harder than he’d anticipated it to be.

‘I’d have to check his file to see who he listed,’ Geoff said, ‘we’re not exactly close.’

‘Obviously the man’s been laying in your building dead as a doornail for five days,’ Austin countered, his sniping coming out before he had a chance to stop it. Geoff seemed bolstered by his tartness, straightening up from the nervous pathetic puddle he’d been and growing irritated as he said hotly, ‘what I meant was I don’t know much about him. He keeps to himself; he keeps his nose clean and that’s as much as I need to know.’

‘Not too clean evidently,’ John countered, finally moving away from the stack of unopened post. Austin could feel him looking around, surveying the scene, and feeling as though they’d probably pressed about as much out of Geoff that was useful he decided to cut him loose in favour of asking his partner his opinions.

‘Go with officer Bryant here and find those papers. We’re gonna need a next of kin to notify,’ Austin said, not waiting for a response before he turned his back on the man. John raised an eyebrow but waited until the pair of them were left alone with just Tony for company who admittedly didn’t make much of an effort to join in.

‘You were a little sharp with him don’t you think?’ John asked, perching on the edge of a sofa arm.

‘It gets them to the point,’ Austin said dismissively, ‘and considering he wasn’t much help that’s a good thing.’

‘Yeah? Let me guess the room’s telling you more than the eye witness is,’ John said, his scepticism poking through. That was another thing he was still getting used to, the reliance people of the south had on human nature. Over the dozen or so cases they’d worked together he’d been astounded to realise just how much word and character spoke when clear cut facts were staring people in the face. In fact ‘they’re good folks’ was a narrative he was sure he’d never get on board with. Still he didn’t bother to argue the point but rather present the facts themselves showing how even without speaking the room had said more than the landlord had.

‘Maybe. He’s a single guy right?’ Austin asked.

‘Looks like,’ John said, glancing around, ‘he could have a girl though.’ 

‘One that doesn’t get in contact or check up on him for more than five days?’ Austin asked, raising an eyebrow. As John shrugged and nodded in agreement he continued, ‘from the looks of this apartment I’d say he’s a single guy living alone and his landlord doesn’t know his next of kin which means he either doesn’t have one or they’re infrequently in touch or at the very least they don’t come here to see him.’

‘Right,’ John replied.

‘So why are there two glasses of half-drunken scotch on the coffee table?’ Austin asked, watching as John noted the two whiskey glasses in front of him.

‘So there was someone here,’ John replied.

‘But his mail is unopened and the pizza box on the counter is full, an uneaten pizza just sitting there,’ Austin continued making John’s eyes drift past him to the De Roma’s pizza box sitting on the kitchen worktop, the bottom of the cardboard darkened by the grease that had been soaking into it as the pizza lay uneaten.

‘So what?’ John asked.

‘I think he came home with the pizza and mail in hand but he was distracted by someone coming over. It mustn’t have been planned otherwise they’d just eat the pizza together. If it happened after he’d been home for a while the pizza would be gone and his mail opened,’ Austin said.

‘He opens the door for the guy who’s gonna put a bullet in his skull and asks him if he wants a night cap?’ John said sceptically.

‘Maybe the person came to talk and Tony felt like he had to,’ Austin replied.

‘But if it was about something worth killing the guy for I can’t imagine it was a polite chat. And apart from the dead guy the apartment looks in pretty good condition to me,’ John said, glancing around the room. He was right apart from the unsightly corpse in the centre of the room; the rest of it was relatively tidy. Granted it wasn’t very large with the room split into a living and kitchen area but there was no clutter, apart from the bookshelf there wasn’t much personality to any of it. It actually resembled Austin’s current apartment, devoid of personality though his was due to lack of time to make it his own given the fact he was new in town and always working. Though at this point that felt slightly better. He may have not had a chance to put a fresh lick of paint on his walls but he also hadn’t had a chance to make enemies like Tony apparently had. Austin was thinking about that, wondering what had made the guy sit down with the person who would end his life. 

Had he known what was coming or why they were there? Or had he been blindsided by it all? 

‘Is that his file?’ John asked, snapping his partner out of his trance as the landlord reappeared at the door along with their officer. Apparently Austin’s attitude had left no love lost as he nodded but didn’t say anything, offering the small manilla folder over the tape as if signalling both his compliance and reluctance at the same time. Austin rolled his eyes but watched as John took the folder from him before he quickly scurried out of view.

‘What have we got?’ Austin asked as John threw the folder down on the tiled counter with a splat before he started to sift through it. If he was being honest with himself he wanted to read through it himself but knew it was probably better to give him the lead here. John’s eyes flitted across the pages. From what Austin could see there were a few info pages, copies of receipts and rent stubs but nothing much else.

‘Says here Grandma’s next of kin but it looks like she lives in Florida,’ John murmured as he read through the sheet, ‘lease agreement was signed over a year ago and he works at, oh.’

‘What is it?’ Austin asked craning his neck to try and spy what he had spotted. Though as his partner looked up, a beaten expression falling across his face he started to worry.

‘He works at Kings,’ John said with a sigh.

‘So?’ Austin said. He’d heard of the place. A little club on Beale Street, a home of good music and the hotshots of Memphis though he had yet to scope out the joint for himself. What he had heard though did not warrant the reaction John was giving, one that signalled their job had just gotten a little harder. Then again as a native Memphian maybe there was something Austin didn’t know yet. After all there wasn’t a club or bar on his patch when he worked the beat he didn’t know inside out. He knew which places were known for trouble and those he could rely on for a tip here or there. And from the look John was giving him he was sure Kings wasn’t one of those he could hit up for some friendly police cooperation.

‘So if he works there then chances are this is something to do with them,’ John said.

‘Who?’ Austin asked.

‘The Memphis Mafia.’ 

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @lettersfromvenus @artlesson8892 @presleyenterprise

AUSTIN TAGS

@purejasmine @caitlin1996

[headfullofpresley]

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 4K

Summary: After doing Vogue's “Life in Looks” and reminiscing on your life with Elvis and Caroline, your late husband makes sure you and your daughter know he's still around.

Warning(s): life after losing a spouse, lil bit angsty, inaccurate timelines etc, doesn't follow timelines of other fics including Caroline, set in the late 90s bc i felt like it (just pretend life in looks is on tv or smth lol), reminiscing about a deceased spouse, flashback, bit of spiritual stuff (i still wanted him to be in this lol ☻), Elvis' death is not described here or whatsoever.

A/N: so, i usually never write about elvis not being among us anymore but ofc... i got carried away. the ending is kinda silly, but i thought it was cute. this was requested by my dear @rosepresley and even though it turned out a little different, i hope you'll still enjoy it, love! <3

masterlist

While your husband was known to the world as The King and many other titles, to you he was just Elvis.

Even though the anniversary of his death ticked on twenty years now and you had given the loss a place, there wasn’t a day that you didn’t think about him or didn’t miss him.

Caroline was only nine when her father passed and even though nobody would ever forget him, you and your now twenty nine year old daughter worked hard to keep his legacy alive.

While still living at Graceland, which felt a lot emptier without your husband there, you’d make sure events would be held on the property which fans could be a part of – the Christmas lights ceremony during the holidays, sometimes even small concerts held for charities right in your front yard. At times, fans would still linger outside the gates–mostly on the day he had passed or during his birthday week–and you could spend hours out there talking to them.

While you weren’t always happy with the lack of privacy when being out with Elvis or having fans outside your house in the dead of the night, you felt like you owed the attention to them now. You were aware that you didn’t, but these were the people that loved when you talked about the man they looked up to – probably more than anyone.

Aside from that, you were still being asked for interviews and press as well. You loved talking about Elvis and your life with him, but you were still careful as to who exactly you told those stories to – you had declined enough interviews and TV specials in the past, as did Caroline, because you were both aware how the media could twist your words and make up their own story which they knew would sell better.

When Vogue asked you for their ‘Life in Looks’ series, you were doubtful at first. This meant you’d have to talk more so about yourself rather than Elvis, but Caroline reminded you how much you loved fashion and Vogue in particular. You had a trusty subscription of the magazine, getting most of your inspiration from it when it came to your sense of style. Your daughter always assured you that it would be okay for you to talk about yourself rather than about Daddy only and you knew she was right.

Despite your entire life having revolved, and still revolving, around Elvis, you were still your own person.

He would want you to do this, especially since he made big fashion statements himself back in the day and he loved dressing you up and picking out your outfits for you.

 

 

“Just pretend we’re not here, mrs. Presley. Take all the time you need,” one of the editors smiled at you as she stood besides the camera, another girl with a Vogue lanyard around her neck placing a big white photobook in front of you. “We’ve included fifteen looks for the day but we have more pictures at hand, so if you don’t feel comfortable telling about some, we can change them up a little,”

You smiled brightly, nodding your head as you let one of the stylists fix a lock of your hair, making sure it laid perfectly over your shoulder. You knew what to do because you weren’t foreign to the concept and had seen other people doing it, but you couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

Caroline stood on the side, putting her thumbs up as she smiled brightly – ever the supportive daughter.

You chuckled softly and shot her a wink, crossing your legs under the table you were sat at as you looked at the camera. As you got the cue they were rolling, you planted a bright smile on your face, manicured nails tracing the corners of the book in front of you.

“Hi Vogue, I’m Y/N Presley and this is my Life in Looks,” you told the camera happily, although making sure not to overdo your enthusiasm.

You continued on as you were told to do, knowing that they could cut and edit the taping it was meant to be shown to the public.

You opened the book, your smile growing a little as the first picture was of you being taken out on your first date with Elvis – he wasn’t shown in the picture, because this was mostly about you and the outfit you were wearing in the picture.

“The hair,” you pointed out, laughing softly as you tapped your nail against your very extravagant hairdo. It was all high and teased, and very out there. “This was in 1960, during our first date at the fair. He rented out the place like he usually did and I remember the air being so humid, even at night, I was not having a good time with this much hair,” you chuckled, remembering how you’d complain to Elvis how you wished you would’ve kept your hair down.

He assured you you looked gorgeous, even with the sheen of sweat on your forehead. You had known Elvis since before he served in the army, so you weren’t ashamed when he pointed it out. Before he became the love of your life, he was your best friend first.

“This little dress came out of my very own closet. I don’t even think it was a brand, but I was obsessed,” you giggled, looking at the camera. Sneakily catching Caroline’s eye, a smirk tugged at your lips. “She doesn’t like me saying this, but Caroline wore this dress on the first date she went on,” you whispered and your daughter gasped soundlessly, muffling a chuckle in the palm of her hand.

You smiled happily as you turned the page, talking the viewers through a few more pictures that were taken of you at the airport and so on, reminiscing happily about the day it was taken and about what you were wearing. Even though this interview was specifically cathered to you, you still talked about Elvis during pretty much every picture but you didn’t care – and neither did the crew.

This man had been your entire life. The only man you had ever been with. How could you not talk about him?

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned the page and looked right at a wedding picture of you and Elvis.

“Oh, this was such a big day for us. Our wedding day,” you smiled lovingly at the camera before looking back down, your finger tracing Elvis’ face in the picture. The camera above your head made sure to catch it. “Charlie Hodge, who as you all might know worked for Elvis, went with me to go dress shopping because people would recognize me going into stores and then they’d find out there would be a wedding,” you laughed softly, looking at the camera as you placed your hands neatly on the table underneath the book. “I put on a little disguise and me and Charlie pretended to be the ones getting married – nobody recognized us,”

Caroline’s cheeks were aching with how big she was smiling, her hands clutched firmly against her chest. She always loved hearing you talk about your life with her father before the time she was born and she could see how much you were enjoying it.

“I picked this dress because it was very lightweight and feminine, and it matched perfectly with Elvis’ suit,” you looked at the picture again, smiling fondly at the smiling face of your husband in the picture before turning the page once more.

 

After talking about your honeymoon for a little bit, Caroline knew what was coming and she giggled softly as she watched you pout at the camera, tapping the picture of you and Elvis while holding little baby Caroline in your arms. It was taken only a few hours after you had given birth, but dressed in a pink dress and your hair teased to perfection, it looked far from a woman who had nearly broke her husband’s hand hours before.

“Look at that face, that’s a happy dad,” you grinned as you pointed out Elvis’ face, who was smiling cutely as he looked at Caroline in your arms while you sat on the bed. “He couldn’t believe he had a child and you can clearly see that on his face. I think a lot of men are like this, but he was afraid to hold her – terrified. I was never allowed to leave his side when she’d be in his arms because he was so scared that he’d drop her,” you laughed, the memories flashing before your eyes.

 

“El, you won’t hurt her, I promise you,” you laughed as you sat on your knees on the bed, baby Caroline sleeping safe and sound in your arms, Elvis propped up against the headboard of the bed.

He was in his underwear, wanting to try the method of holding his baby girl against his bare chest because he read in one of your parenting books that it’d help to steady the bond between child and father.

You had forgotten about the books long ago, because as soon as you held Caroline in your arms for the first time, motherhood came natural to you. Elvis would read them every night in bed, because he wanted to make sure to become the picture perfect father.

You didn’t give him time to back out of it, moving closer to him on your knees in a slow pace as you handed Caroline to him, making sure to put her in a supported position. He placed a gentle hand under her head, his other on her tiny back as she laid comfortably in his arms, pressed against his chest.

The room was just the right temperature but you could see that the baby who was only wearing a diaper immediately enjoyed the warmth radiating off Elvis’ chest when their skins touched. She bawled her tiny hands into fists before sprawling her little fingers, her eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Stay with me, honey,” he told you with a soft hint of panic on his tongue, making sure you wouldn’t leave his side as he held Caroline.

You laughed softly and nodded, sinking further in the mattress as you mimicked his position and sat next to him. You smiled down at your daughter as her eyes found Elvis’, a goofy smile spreading across her face.

“She likes this,” you told him, gently leaning your head against his upper arm, your fingertips ghosting over Caroline’s forehead. “I think the rhythm of your heart calms her down,” you pointed out in a whisper, you and Elvis watching as the little girl in his arms stared up at her father, her tiny chest heaving up and down slowly.

“She’s so pretty,” he whispered lowly, afraid the vibrations of his voice if he spoke any louder would scare his daughter. Moving his arm a little lower so she rested on just one arm, he brought his other hand to her face, feather light fingertip trailing down her nose. “Your nose,”

You chuckled softly at the way Caroline’s smile widened because of his touches, her toothless gums on full display. Elvis laughed softly, turning to press a kiss on the top of your head.

“Can you believe we made… this?”

“Hmmhmm. Because she has your mouth,” you laughed softly, kissing his shoulder. “I bet she’ll be just as stubborn as you,”

He feigned a gasp, shoulders shaking a little as he laughed – he was about to comment that she’d definitely get the stubborness from you, but as Caroline giggled right along with the two of you, all he could do was stare at her with fond eyes.

Slowly but surely, Elvis allowed you to do your own thing whenever he’d hold her. His favorite spot was always in the bed, because that way he was absolutely sure nothing could happen to her.

Nothing ever did happen to her whenever he was holding her though, whenever in or out the bed, and to you he was a damn good father.

A natural, like you – but he never believed those words no matter how many times you’d tell him.

 

Caroline watched you proudly the entire time, talking about your life with her and her father, and how your own sense of style had changed throughout the years. Although Elvis loved picking out things for you to wear, you developed a big interest in fashion and design as you got older and he loved whenever you’d wear something that you designed yourself.

Your style was similar to his – the two of you always matched perfectly, looking sophisticated but still out there, turning heads. The two of you were always comfortable around each other, but not so comfortable it would turn sloppy.

There were never days where you would be lounging around the house in pajamas for an entire day. Elvis loved to dress up on any occasion, even when not leaving the house, and so did you.

On Christmas and New Year’s Eve, you’d both go all out, putting on your best fits because that’s when you felt most confident. And to the both of you, that was one of the best feelings in the world.

There weren’t much pictures of you and Elvis with Caroline when she was young because that’s something both you and your husband wanted to keep private. You did allow the crew to put a picture of Caroline’s 6th birthday in the book in front of you, because it was one of your favorites – you actually had it framed on your bedside table.

“See, this is Care’s 6th birthday and even though it was only a child’s birthday party, we were dressed like we were going to the fanciest place in town,” you told the camera, laughing softly. Elvis was in all black except for the white collar that was popped up, velvet trench coat adorning his frame. You and Caroline wore matching dresses – white ruffled poet shirts underneath a hand beaded mid length shift dress, the pattern on it throwing you right back into the 70s because of the small flowers on it. “But that was just.. our style. And Elvis loved dressing up Caroline – he loved it when she matched with us, no matter what the occasion was,”

You shot a sneaky wink Caroline’s way, who was soundlessly gasping for a breath of air as she felt a lump forming in her throat. She loved talking about Elvis as much as you did and she was able to without breaking down because it had been so many years, but the love she felt for her father was unexplainable.

Untouchable.

Their bond had always been extremely strong and even after his passing, that never faded. If anything, it only heightened. As she grew older, she was able to understand him better and see him through different eyes and while Caroline realised her father wasn’t perfect, the amount of love she carried toward him would always be there and it would always be hers.

She smiled at you, blowing you a kiss which made your smile widen – you continued on like nothing happened as you spoke to the camera, hoping your voice wasn’t giving away the thickness you felt forming in your throat.

 

While you could honestly speak about your husband for hours, the interview had to come to an end and you were kind of glad it did. All you wanted to do now was fly back to Memphis and spend time in the home that belonged to you and your husband. You were still professional though, talking a little with the crew and thanking everyone before you left the building.

The flight from New York to Memphis was five hours, but on the private plane time flew by fast, which you were thankful for. Despite Caroline not living at Graceland anymore, she decided to stay the night because she could see how emotional today had made you.

“Do you regret doing the interview? Was it too much?” Caroline asked softly as she laid in your bed, looking at you with a soft smile when you slipped under the covers in Elvis’ spot. You hadn’t slept on your own side since the day he passed.

“No, not at all. I love Vogue and I feel honored they asked me,” you smiled as you sat against the headboard, Caroline turning on her side to plant her head in the palm of her hand. “Seeing all the pictures just brought back a lot of memories, more than I thought they would,”

Your daughter smiled, reaching out her hand to you. You slipped your hand in hers, sighing deeply.

“Good ones I hope?”

“Ofcourse. Always good ones,” you told her with a nod of your head, kissing the back of her hand before squeezing it. “Your father and I had our lows as well, but even those memories are dear to me. He really was one of a kind, Care,”

The blonde next to you crawled closer to you, sitting up against the bed as well as she released your hand and linked her arm through yours instead, putting her head on your shoulder.

“He really was,” she whispered, looking at the wedding ring that still sat prettily on your hand. “Do you think he’s watching us?”

“Knowing your father, he’s probably right here with us right now,” you laughed softly, looking at Caroline as she raised her head to look at you with wide eyes.

“What? What do you mean right now?”

The slight panic in her eyes made you laugh harder, shrugging your shoulders as you looked around the room.

“I feel him around me all the time. I’ve gotten used to the feeling of… being watched,” you grinned playfully at her and she whined at the spine-chilling tone in your voice which you used on purpose.

It was true, though. You felt his presence all the time and you had gotten used to it – even though he couldn’t answer you or talk back, you spoke to him all the time when you’d be alone in the house. Before he passed, he promised he’d always be around and you believed him.

“Nooo, you’re joking,” Caroline laughed as she threw a pillow your way, which made you giggle as you caught it and threw it back at her. “I mean I’ve dreamt about him before, but you’re totally fucking with me right now. Dad’s probably too busy stealing the show up there,” your daughter joked as she put the pillow back in place, the light on the bedside table flickering right that second.

She widened her eyes as she immediately crawled over to you, almost planting herself on your lap, which made you only laugh harder.

You were about to tell her to calm down and that she shouldn’t be scared, but a loud bang that rumbled from downstairs actually got Caroline jumping in your lap this time, her arms firmly wrapped around your neck. Now that was something you never heard before and even though you were surprised, you couldn’t stop laughing at your daughter’s actions.

“Let’s go downstairs,” you told her with a giggle as you pushed her off, getting up from the bed. Picking up your robe, you put it on as Caroline shook her head. She wanted to decline and stay in bed, but she also didn’t want to be left alone right now so as you left the room, she quickly run after you.

“Mom, what if it’s actually someone in the house? I’m not dressed to fight!” she whispered harshly as she looked at the dress shirt she stole out of Elvis’ side of your wardrobe, her hands planted firmly on your shoulders while the both of you tiptoed down the stairs.

You laughed softly, easily finding your way through the house in the dark. “No one is here, Care,” you chuckled as you flicked on some lights in the dining room, knowing that Graceland’s security system was tight and nobody was able to come in unless you allowed them to.

The both of you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at first, until Caroline pointed out the slightly ajar door of one of the cabinets that stood against the wall. You recognized the photobook that laid on the floor, obviously having fallen out of the cabinet.

Or more so, as if someone deliberately put it there.

You walked over to it, picking it up and opening it on the first page which immediately brought a smile to your face. “This was taken on Christmas Eve, you were just one year old,” you told Caroline as you put the book on the table, sitting down. Caroline had seen it already, she had seen all family photo’s, but she loved looking at them.

Her fear faded as she sat down next to you, smiling as the two of you happily turned pages to look at the pictures of all the Christmasses spend together. It was like a warm blanket was wrapped around you and you knew Caroline felt the same, because she had completely forgotten about the light that flickered or the worries of someone breaking into the house.

You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple as she smiled at the picture of her and her father in the snow, along with the snowman they build together. Bright smiles and flushed cheeks – the sight of it warmed your heart.

“Your father will always be here,” you whispered to her as you softly leaned your head against hers, rubbing her arm. “He’s gonna be there with you every step along the way, no matter what you do or where you go. Don’t you ever forget it,”

She sniffed softly, nodding her head as she turned to you to hug you tightly, your hand drawing soothing circles on her back. “I know,” she sighed, laughing softly through her tears. “As long as he doesn’t make the light flicker again, I’m okay with it,”

You laughed as you pulled back a little to look at her, cupping her face to wipe her tears away with your thumbs. “He knows you’ll probably flee your house in the middle of the night so I’m sure he won’t,”

She chuckled as she nodded, rushing a hand through her hair as you let her go.

“And he’s right. If that would’ve happened to me if I was at my place, I’d probably run onto the streets screaming,”

You bet she wouldn’t, but you still laughed at her words. You were sure Elvis would let her know he was with her in other ways, but you wouldn’t mind at all if he made the lights in your room flicker or whatsoever.

It gave you comfort knowing he was still there, popping in whenever he pleased.

 

After drinking some tea and looking at some more pictures, you and Caroline decided to go back upstairs and sleep away the rush of emotions the both of you went through today.

You fluffed your pillow a little, laying down after you turned the light on your side off. Caroline sighed happily, reaching for the light on her side – once again, it flickered before she had the chance to turn it off.

“Seriously, Dad?” she deadpanned, moving closer to you again instead of turning the light off like she planned to.

You laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you reached over to the lamp, switching it off.

“Give the girl a break, El,” you chuckled, laying back down. Caroline was immediately pressed against your side, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

Just like when she was a little girl, you played with her hair to make her drift off into a slumber. While she could be a tough one with a big mouth, you didn’t care that she still liked to be babied a little at twenty nine years old.

She would always be your and Elvis’ little girl and that was your most beautiful achievement.

[godwithinself]

BLUE VELVET

(Elvis x Reader)

summary: After a heated argument with Elvis you hand his engagement ring back and head to Vegas where he finds you once again though this time it's followed by an overwhelming rollercoaster of events as you live on to tell your story with the king

A/N: Hii This is my first fic and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this first part. I have ideas flowing through my head DAILY so I was like why not get into writing yk? I wanna be able to write more of this story because I just have so much to think about it. This part is a bit boring but plz bare with me because the next chapter will be so much better I swear! I plan to have smut in this story so look out for that?!? but yeah enjoy!!!

Fandom/character - ELVIS

Fem!Reader, NOTPROOF READ

TW: Cursing, Brief Mentions of alcohol/Drinking, Brief mention of death (kinda?), typical Elvis things ofc , LET ME KNOW IF MORE

If you want a better view of how the reader is I recommand listening !!!

Vegas, 1969

Click, and The flash goes off on the camera that's shooting you getting every angle Click and again. You like to make sure the photographer gets every piece of you to show off the gorgeous curves you have been saving.

After handing back an engagement ring from Elvis Presley you left and became a serious actress in Las Vegas you have made it your Home. You made yourself a home in the biggest suite at the only international hotel. You were quite a big deal here. You decided it was time to make a name for yourself instead of just being Elvis’ girl and being no one. You thought acting would do you well for now since you were only starting. It's been only a year since you started but you already have your face plastered on magazines and movie posters. It would be overwhelming at times but you learned to enjoy it quickly with all the gifts and treatment you would give yourself.

The fame has indeed made you happy until the storm of loneliness hits you like a truck. Money can buy you happiness but only temporarily, you’ve been missing the touch and feel of a man since your last love. You’re starved for affection really, as dumb as it sounds all you craved was the potential marriage you had left behind.

Your thoughts cave into you at once hitting you fast. The bright studio lights feel as if they are 10x brighter than before hitting you in all directions. You then hear your photographer shout and your photoshoot is all wrapped up in seconds “Alright we’re all set for today Ms. Y/L/N” your photographer says while putting his camera to the side. “Thank you” You flash him a quick smile not being a big talker even though you're an actress. You wrap yourself up with the robe left for you and walk toward your dressing room.

Once you reached your dressing room you walk in with a cold breeze of air hitting you like you just walked into heaven itself. You race for your chair that's waiting for you by your giant vanity and are in a rush to take off your heels that have been killing you all day you just could not stand heels anymore. Now that they were finally off you reach for the box of makeup wipes that were sitting by the gigantic vanity mirror next to all your essentials.

You grab a small wipe and gently start rubbing your face off any unnecessary makeup that was needed for the shoot, but you leave your eyeliner untouched. You were quite known for having eyeliner most of the time you were just so fascinated by the way it was worn. Elvis had taught you how to do eyeliner when you first met him and have been doing it ever since, it was just so beautiful to you.

After wiping away almost any makeup left you grabbed the closest wine glass you could find which was by the mini wine fridge you had installed yourself under your vanity dresser. You were quite proud of yourself for that! You reached down to grab the glass and the old wine bottle almost empty sitting on the floor and poured yourself what was left. You made your way to a black velvet couch that was sitting in the middle of the room and made yourself comfortable. You flicked on the television and flickered through the channels til you found a soothing romance movie that was playing, you decided to just go with that. You managed to finish the wine after the first 10 minutes of watching and placed your empty glass on the black marble coffee table.

After a couple of hours had gone by you were awakened by a loud knock on your door “Who is it?” you shouted “Its me Y/N, now open this gawd damn door!” hearing the voice you knew exactly who it was

You got up from the couch and ran over to the door to open it and see it was your best friend Ana.

You and Ana became friends way before you and Elvis got engaged, she actually was a wife of jerry schilling a member of the Memphis mafia, she eventually helped you move to Vegas and get yourself involved in the movie industry.

“Whats brings you to this fine place of mine, Princess Ana” you say twirling around showing her your dressing room

“Well, I came here to invite ya to a show tonight!” Ana said with a smile poking through her

“Oh, really, and who could possibly be performing” you say turning around to grab yourself a snack of a banana with a nice whip of peanut butter.

“Egh-uh- Just a local band, they were invited by the international!” Ana spat out with a stutter

You turned back around to her with a small side eye

“hmm alright, ill go, under one condition!”

“Anythin’ Darlin” Ana shook her head and through her hands up in a pleading pose

“Drinks on you” you took a bit of your banana

“Oh I knew you were going to say that, don’t worry it's all on international tonight” she gave you a wink and quickly made her way out

“Oh and don’t forget, the shows are at 7:30!” and she was gone

A couple of hours had gone by since

Realizing the time, you dropped peanut butter on your gorgeous robe “Shiet” you whispered shuffling into your closet. You shift through your hangers and the many costumes that just stayed there hanging.

After a few minutes of shifting back and forth you landed on a blue velvet mini-dress it was strapless and perfect for the night it came with a pair of blue velvet gloves. You quickly grabbed them and rushed out of your closet to get dressed and ready, you slipped on the mini dress, it fit perfectly around your curves and complemented your breasts.

You went to your vanity and added a beautiful dark red lip and enhanced your black mole above your lip, you decided to add a small lash to be just a bit dramatic, and you then went to fix your hair that sat in a long bouffant on your head. After adding the finishing touches you slipped on your blue gloves and grabbed your clutch and headed out the door. It was already 7:00 pm by the time you were done getting ready, the show started at 7:30 so you felt in no rush. For now at least.

Walking through the studio you headed out the front and there was a black Cadillac waiting for you to take you back to the international.

Press was already swarmed by ur side trying to get every angle of you, FLASH CLICK FLASH CLICK you hear as you walk through smiling and waving as a driver opens your door for you. Grabbing onto the handle you pushed yourself inside and landed on the tan seats of the Cadillac then giving the press a blown kiss and closed the door. The driver sped away into the next lane and on the road to the hotel.

You stare out the window watching the lights pass in streams, this was one thing you loved about being in Vegas, the lights were something to absolutely die for.

While pulling to the front of the hotel the sign of the international hotel beams in front of you...

‘INTERNATIONAL bill miller presents… ELVIS’

The driver finally made it to the hotel and opened your door, you placed one foot on the floor and hopped out, you grabbed your clutch that was sitting right next to you. You started making your way toward the front while the press was forming once again, you were smiling and waving while people were handing you pictures of yourself to sign.

While signing pictures you landed on a picture of you and Elvis together next to his pink Cadillac, he had his hand wrapped around your waist and a cigar in another, both of you smiling. You felt as though people still considered you together. You quickly signed it and handed it back to whoever it came from, you rushed inside and made your little way to the showroom where every wall had a picture of Elvis plastered on it.

Walking into the room it was already very dim since it was mere minutes before the man of the hour would appear, the room was filled with many small tables and booths for its size. The tables were covered in a white satin tablecloth and had small candles with bowls of champagne submerged in ice, the tables were set for a big night ahead of them.

You were already late so you tiptoed through the crowd that was already in place, you saw Ana sitting at one of the booths straight in the middle with the best view of the small stage. Slowly making your way to the table you rushed to take your seat next to her.

“Thought you stood me up sugar,” Ana said with a side eye followed by a smirk “Oh me? Never dear,” you said while grabbing the champagne out of the ice.

“A band Ana? I didn’t know the Band was ELVIS!?” you said while facing Ana nursing her drink

“Listen Y/N it's been years you’re in the clear trust me,” she said with a smile plastered across her face excited to see the show that was about to take place

You hadn't seen Elvis since the night you two got into a fight and you handed his ring back to him. You felt all the feelings you could feel run straight through you, you were about to see the man whose heart you shattered and never saw again.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty, what he thinks of you if he saw you? All the feelings that had rushed through you when he appeared.

There he was, the beautiful man you once loved and would’ve just about anything for. Elvis walked onto the stage greeting the crowd, he was dressed in a black herringbone suit with a dark blue satin scarf tied around his neck. He walked out holding his signature guitar and a beautiful smile on his face.

Due to your best friend's horrible choice of seating, it wasn’t long before Elvis looked your way and quickly recognized who you were.

You gave him a warm smile and a little wave hoping he wouldn’t hate you, but you saw his nervousness fade away when a smile started to appear across his lips. You felt a small relief in your chest as you saw the light in his eyes twinkle while looking in your direction, you shifted in your seat getting yourself comfortable for the show

He started the show with introductions then slowly made his way into suspicious minds, you could tell this was his favorite by the way he was moving, he was so charismatic and you could feel yourself falling in love with him once again. After a couple more songs Love me tender finally started to play, surprisingly you saw Elvis starting to kiss every fan in the front row of the stage.

Love me tender

Love me sweet

Never let me go

You have made my life complete

And I love you so

While singing Elvis walked down the steps to the side of the stage and made his way to the line of booths that you were sitting at, he started to kiss every girl that was within them.

Love me tender

Love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

For my darlin' I love you

And I always will

Elvis quickly approaching your booth would every so often pick his head up and check to see if you were still in the seat he saw you in or even if he was even dreaming.

You felt your body go hot, your hands were gathering sweat in them as you were watching him approach you. Your heart was galloping as fast as a horse in a derby race, waiting for his touch.

He finally reached your table and slowly lowered the microphone he was holding singing the end of love me tender, he bent over the large round table and quickly latched his lips on yours. The feel of his pillow lips was so warming, he kissed you as if you were engaged again.

He finally pulled away and with the microphone low he whispered a small request that you couldn’t quite hear after having the beating of your heart ringing in your ears.

He walked his way back towards the stage turning back around to give you a small smile.

After another hour the end of the show finally arrived, and you were quite tired and ready to leave.

Slowly sliding out of the booth you grabbed your clutch and stood to face Ana.

“You’re not leavin’ are ya?” Ana says with a frustrated tone in her voice

“I'm a bit worn out Ana and it's late,” you said rubbing your head a bit

“Oh don’t say that! You can't tell me that kiss from Elvis didn’t wake ya?! I saw you turn redder than a tomato” Ana chuckles at you “ooo redder than a tomato” mocking Ana's voice

“c’mon now we're invited to the after party!” she says as she grabs your arm guiding you out of the showroom...

Your heart flutters at the fact you might see Elvis again, but you're truly scared to talk to him. Your mind turns into a little schoolgirl when you think of him but you can't help it.

After Ana had led you into the main hall of the hotel you see the showroom start to slowly empty out and into a backroom full of actors and actresses to see their king

You and Ana follow the crowd into the back which its crowded and full of people, the room has a large bar on the side and a large red curved couch taking up most of the space.

“Now this is what I call a show Y/N!” Ana shouts before vanishing into the crowd.

‘What a crook, guess ill have to keep me busy’ you think

Only a few minutes in and you have already lost your talkative and only friend, you head straight to the bar in hopes to cheer yourself up from the night you have encountered already.

“ ‘scuse me?” you says waving your hand to the bartender “Hi, May I please have a whiskey, on the rocks”

“Of Course Ms. Y/L/N” the bartender says spinning around to get to work

You turn back around facing the crowd crossing your legs to keep decency, you peer around to make sure no Elvis Presley is in your sight.

Elvis, just hearing or thinking of his name sent a lump in your throat, almost as if someone was choking you to death.

The love you felt for Elvis was almost... Unreal? It would hurt then times it felt good, he was the love of your life but you weren’t ready to face him not just yet...

Lost in thought you hadn't even noticed the bartender trying to get your attention, “Ms. Y/L/N? Ms. Y/L/N?” the bartender repeated.

Looking over your shoulder “Oh my goodness I apologize I was completely lost in thought”

“No problem it's normal for me almost every day!” the bartender said with a chuckle

You giggle as you grabbed the glass and turned back around but as soon as you turn you are met with a chest directly in front of you

“Ugh-” you let out a small yelp “I'm so sorry I can't seem to get myself together toda-” you stop dead in your sentence to look up and see Elvis towering directly in front of you

“Hello, Honeybee”

[burninlovebutler]

I posted 1,801 times in 2022

That's 1,801 more posts than 2021!

441 posts created (24%)

1,360 posts reblogged (76%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@karamelcoveredolicity

@troubleinapinksuit

@bisexualwvtson

@loving-elvis

@lindszeppelin

I tagged 1,395 of my posts in 2022

Only 23% of my posts had no tags

#austin butler - 397 posts

#elvis - 317 posts

#elvis presley - 217 posts

#austin butler elvis - 201 posts

#elvis movie - 179 posts

#elvis 2022 - 120 posts

#austin butler fanfic - 94 posts

#elvis baz luhrmann - 93 posts

#austin!elvis - 75 posts

#mel’s asks - 73 posts

Longest Tag: 106 characters

#as someone who’s in social media marketing it’s actually hilarious that tumblr is my favorite platform lol

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

happy veteran’s day mr. presley 🫡

See the full post

387 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

#4

the hand thing

See the full post

571 notes - Posted November 8, 2022

#3

the fact that austin has previously talked about how some of elvis’ mannerisms were inherently sexual makes me believe that this motion was no accident and that he was in fact ….. thinking about it sexually

(gif cred: my resident tormentor @karamelcoveredolicity )

611 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

#2

Just an Intern

pairing: austin x fem!reader

warnings: ANGST, moody arrogant asshole!austin, dom!austin, slow burn ofc (lots of back&forth, sorry), teasing/tension, fingering, bondage, degradation (+ names), unprotected p in v, cream pie, short time skips, inaccurate depictions of a movie set lol, 18+, minors dni

word count: 9.9k😅

summary: you’ve somehow landed an apprentice position to a famous hollywood makeup artist on set of The Bikeriders - you arrive late to work one day to find your mentor is nowhere to be found, you’re left on your own. If it can’t get any worse, a new actor on set soon becomes your worst enemy

disclaimer: this my FIRST attempt at a reader fic (unlike my ongoing main fic Forever Winter which is 1st person) so be nice pls! IM V NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS BC ITS SOMEHOW MORE NERVE RACKING THAN MY 23+ CHP LONG SERIES LOL IDK IDK BE NICE THNX

You winced when you hear the wheels of your 10 year old beat up Voltzwagon Bug screech over gravel. It was only your 3rd week on set as the head makeup artist’s apprentice. You’d really only gotten this (rather low) paying gig through a family member who works in the industry. That all being said, you were running about 20 minutes late since you had gotten lost yet again.

With a hasty grab of your plastic makeup kit, you ran to the trailers ready to apologize profusely to Carol who already seemed to hate you. Much to your surprise you sped into an empty trailer.

“Fuck,” You muttered and peak your head out attempting to spot any sign of your boss.

A man from prop team passed the door, he was about your age and you’d become cordial – not friendly, but cordial.

“Hey!” You projected your whisper to catch him. He tugged his headset visibly irritated and gave you an eyebrow that said, ‘get on with it’.

“Do you know where Carol is?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen her. I think someone say she’s sick, probably Covid or something.” He replied casually with a shrug.

“What! What am I supposed to do!” Still whisper yelling even though he was speaking at normal volume.

He shrugged, “Guess you’re on your own.”

“Fuck.” Pushing a stray hair from your now sweating forehead.

He gave a grin that normally came with a warning, “Good luck, we got one of the main guys on set today.”

“What? Who?” God as if this couldn’t get any worse.

“You’ll see, we’re mainly shooting him today. So, you’ll be out there, lots of fighting scenes.” And with that he paced quickly away to wherever he was rushing to in the first place.

“Oh god.” You flipped to be flush against the side of the opening as if it would hide you.

In the little time on set of ‘Bikeriders’, you’d already been able to identify who to avoid and who was safe. Between the actors and the crew there were such a mix of personalities. The actors were especially hard since you could never tell what was their character and what wasn’t.

You and Carol had spent most of the time with Tom Hardy, who looked scary but was actually a big teddy bear. He had even come up with some nicknames for you, mainly ‘puppy’ or ‘shadow’. Since you followed Carol around like a lost puppy and basically became her perpetual shadow. Both were a little odd, especially ‘puppy’, but whatever it was better than most other things you’d been called.

An abrupt knock at the metal door ripped you from your panicked thoughts, a lanky shaggy haired blonde bolstered through the trailer and plopped himself in front of the large lit mirror. He was already in costume, leather jacket, dirty jeans, boots. The whirlwind of the day had rendered you paralyzed against the wall which you had forgotten reflected directly into the mirror.

“Well, are ya gonna get started or what?” A deep raspy voice came from the man, not even turning to look at you, just at the reflection.

“Oh-Oh yeah, sorry.” Immediately peeling from the wall and fumbling to set up your small kit on the vanity.

Just the air of his presence told you that he would be one to avoid.

You began plucking through various bottles of fake blood and latex, before realizing just how unprepared you were to do this alone. The feeling of his eyes boring into you only made the anxiety worse.

“Do you know what scene we’re doing?” He asked condescendingly, obviously picking up on your nervousness.

With a giant bottle of thick red liquid in hand, you turned to him wide eyed, “I – um, well, I-“

“You gonna spit it out or what?” Snapping his fingers before you were even able to form a coherent sentence.

See the full post

613 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

my bf/friends: don’t come here with that elvis shit

me comin’ with that elvis shit:

757 notes - Posted October 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[onceshy-twicebitten]

I’m bout to send some more gay!emmett cullen vibes. Here is a list of songs I feel like gay!Emmett would totally listen to! This is my own take on it, so I hope you like it! I kept Country and Classic Rock the most since he’s from Tennessee. I only did 3 genres because of how much I’d chosen 😅

Today Pop:

Rare - Selena Gomez

Hot Girl Bummer - Blackbear

Adore You - Harry Styles

Wish You Were Gay - Billie Eilish

Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time - P!ATD

Mr. Brightside - The Killers

Hollaback Girl - Gwen Stefani

Straight Through My Heart - Backstreet Boys

Green Light - Lorde

Blow Me (One Last Kiss) - Pink

Same Love - Macklemore ft Mary Lambert

Dangerous - Big Data ft Joywave

Old Town Road - Lil Nas X ft Billy Ray Cyrus

Almost the entire Love Simon soundtrack

Classic Rock:

Should I Stay or Go Now - The Clash

Africa - Toto (obviously)

It’s Still Rock and Roll To Me - Billy Joel

Barracuda - Heart

Your Love - The Outfield

Dream On - Aerosmith

Don’t Bring Me Down - Electric Light Orchestra

Working For The Weekend - Lover Boy

Dancing In The Dark - Bruce Springsteen

Back In Black - AC/DC

Jessie’s Girl - Rick Springfield

Sweet Home Alabama - Lynard Skynard

Fortunate Son - Creedence Clearwater

Rock You Like A Hurricane - Scorpions

Old Time Rock And Roll - Bob Segar (he likes to blare this one and dance in a button up and his underwear ofc)

Stairway to Heaven - Led Zepplin

Carry On My Wayward Son - Kansas

Literally everything by Queen

Highway To Hell - AC/DC (when Edward goes on tangents about a damned soul, he plays this)

Surfin’ USA - The Beach Boys

Immigrant Song - Led Zepplin

Paradise City - Guns n Roses

Behind Blue Eyes - The Who

Hey Jude - The Beatles

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart - Elton John

LITERALLY KNOWS ALL 80’s songs. Especiallg The Jackson Five.

All Elvis Presley

Country (the best part about Country is that Edward absolutely hates country) :

Soldier - Billy Gilman

Kerosene - Miranda Lambert (Bella knows this one)

What Was I Thinkin’ - Dierks Bentley

Boondocks - Little Big Town (he screams this)

Anything Garth Brooks or Kenney Chesney (especially She Thinks My Tractors Sexy)

Before He Cheats - Carrie Underwood

Where I Come From - Montgomery Gentry

Mama He’s Crazy - The Judds

Wagon Wheel - Darius Rucker

Parking Lot Party - Lee Brice

Pontoon - Little Big Town

Beer Never Broke My Heart - Luke Combs

Red Solo Cup - Toby Keith (he fucking loves this song so much)

Dude loves Dolly Parton

Yes to Tim Mcgraw

He doesn’t like to tell people, but he knows almost all country Taylor Swift songs

Yes, he listens to country all the time. It drives Edward insane. And he’s so shocked when Bella sings along.

——

Add some songs and headcanons about the music emmett listens to!

[strawberrypaul]

Blue Moon

Word count: 1458

Pairing: John x female reader

Warnings: Angst-ish? also fluff. 

Era: 1964? (ofc you can imagine any era you want!)

Summary: John comforting reader as she’s crying because she’ll never find real love.

Note: I got this idea as I was listening to Blue Moon by Elvis Presley and well, I hope you enjoy reading it!

You could hear the wind blowing outside your bedroom window. It was a stormy and cold night. And there you were, all alone in the middle of your bed wearing nothing but your underwear and a big, warm sweater. That particular sweater gave you the feeling of being safe in a weather like this.

As you were sitting all by yourself in the dark room, deep down in your heart you started to feel a sudden burning, almost. Immediately your hands went to cover your face. You felt the salty tears rolling down your cheeks to the corner of your mouth. You curled up to a ball on the bed hugging yourself. But the tears didn’t stop for that. That burning feeling in your poor heart was spreading to the tips of your fingers. If anyone saw you in this condition they would send you to the mental hospital as quickly as possible. You were an absolute wreck, all alone on the bed in the middle of the night. You had been holding it in for way too long. Your life didn’t match your imagination. You wanted a happy life together with someone. But that was not the case. You were lonesome in this world. The only man in your nearness was John. Your roommate. Not a chance in the world that he would have any slight interest in you. Why would anybody? 

The two of you had been roommates for quite some years now. John had invited you to stay at his apartment for some weeks until you found a place of your own. But that never occured. Instead, you two now live in the apartment together. Of course was it always an entertainment living with him. But ever since the day you moved in, there had been this electrifying feeling in your body each time you saw him. When he was playing the acoustic guitar lazily, lying in the couch with a book in his hands and let’s not forget the mornings. The mornings when you would stand by the kitchen counter making breakfast for him and he would come out of his room shirtless with his ruffled, uncombed hair. 

John was away for the moment. At the studio, you assumed. He could not see you like this, crying your eyes out. But, it goes without saying, nothing ever seems to go your way and you hear the front door unlock. He was home. At the speed of light you try to dry your tears from your wet face. You stood up from the bed and walked over to the full-body mirror. A few deep breaths and you felt a little more at ease.

“Y/N? I’m home, love” you heard him say from the doorway. You had to cough to get some sound out of you. “Yes John? Hello!” you shouted back with an unsteady voice. This time he didn’t respond. Had he heard your instability? 

A short moment later your bedroom door opened. There he stood, your roommate. Like a prince, majestic without even trying. 

“Is there something wrong? You look like you’ve been crying?” he looked at you with worried eyes. You were not sure how to answer him. “Uhm.. I- uh…” you started insecure. “What is it, honey? Tell me, please.” he said with calmness in his voice as he sat on the edge of your bed. You decided to simply go for it. “John? Do you think I will ever find me real love?” you shyly said. Your eyes tearing up again. “Oh, my dear..” he sighed. “Of course you will. Everyone does. No matter who you are or what you look like, there will always be someone loving you for being you.” he smiled. The pain in your heart was coming back. Oh, how you just wanted to tell him. Tell him that he was the one you wanted. “Are you really assured about that?” you began to whisper as tears were falling down from your Y/E/C eyes. John was looking at you, eyes filled with empathy, patting his right hand on the bed as a sign for you to sit down. And so you did. “Let me sing my beloved a song” he said turning to pick his guitar up from the ground. Scooting further up the bed making yourself comfortable he started to play soft chords. You put your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, letting yourself float away with the enchanting sound from the guitar. 

“Blue moon,

you saw me standing alone”

He sang to you with a delightful voice.

“Without a dream in my heart.

Without a love of my own”

His voice, his guitar playing, the lyrics, all of that made your heart fill with warmth. 

“Blue moon,

you knew just what I was there for”

You could feel him move slightly. He was leaning closer to your ear as he sang the next few lines:

“You heard me saying a pray for,

someone I really could care for”

He suddenly stopped playing those beautiful chords. The guitar was put on the floor again. You lifted your head and looked up from his shoulder. You had expected him to be smiling at you but, there was no smile to be found on his perfectly structured face. “John?” you say under your breath, surprised. Why on earth was he crying? “Y/N, my dear.. I’m begging you Y/N, please don’t be mad at me.” he shuddered. For some reason you began to feel guilty. “John, sweetie, what’s the matter? you cooed. He couldn’t look at you. “I’ve wanted to tell you for god knows how long..” he started. You were confused, very confused. Tell you what? “What do you mean, John? Tell me what?” you stroked his hair lightly. He let out a heavy breath and started to speak. “My Y/N, ever since you moved in with me I’ve had this feeling.. I don’t know how you could possibly explain it”. You heart was beating incredibly fast. It felt like it was going to jump out of your chest anytime now. “Do you hate me? Do you want me out of the apartment. If you do, I’m so sorry for anything I might have done-” but you didn’t get to finish. “No! God no, Y/N, are you mad? I don’t hate you! How could you ever think a such thing? I love you, so much.” as he said that you let out a shaky laugh of relief. But he was not laughing. There was not a single trace of happiness around him right now. “No Y/N, I love you. I cannot stand this anymore. I have loved you ever since the day you stepped your foot in my apartment. And don’t leave me now-” this time you interrupted him. “I will never leave you, John.” you gave him a sad smile. “No, please. You don’t understand, Y/N. I love you in a way lovers do. I’m in love with you, Y/N.” he whispered as more tears fell from his hazel eyes. This was not happening. Was he really saying this? No, there’s not a chance he would ever say that. “You-, you love-, you love me?”. He seemed to have lost his speaking ability because all he did was to nod unsurely. “John, baby. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I love you so much-” “But there’s someone else?” he looked down at his fiddling fingers. “No, no, no! I didn’t mean like that.. I’m so in love with you, don’t think any different” a small smile building up on your face again. “I knew I loved you when I first saw you sitting with your guitar, laughing at something Paul had said, looking like something Leonardo da Vinci would want to paint.” you smiled even bigger. John chuckled at to what you had just said. “Oh, my love..” he then sighed. And that’s all it took for you to lean forward and place your soft lips on his. You kissed him as if his skin was made of porcelain. It was a long and loving kiss before he let go of it. “Promise me you will never leave me? My little heart would break in a million pieces if you did.” he said with concern. You looked into his eyes for a moment before answering him. “No, I would never, sweetheart. I would never.” you took him in your arms as if he was a little boy being scared of the monster under his bed. 

You and John laid together in your bed, hugging each other tight. The only thing you could hear was the heavy rain hitting the bedroom windows and John’s breathing. Maybe your life was going to turn out alright, after all?