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bartxnhood · 7 months ago

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escort at the oscars | a.b

austin butler x fem!actress!reader

summary: getting lost at the oscar’s wasn’t on your roster. neither was getting austin butlers attention.

warnings: definitely poor representation of the oscars but idc this is just for funsies !

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: omg hi everyone !!! long time no see i know, life has been insane. i know no one will read this but ive had some HUGE life changes. i graduated cosmetology school, officially a nail tech now, yay me !! also, unfortunately, ill be having a hand surgery soon. so, im hoping i can write more before i can’t 😭. thank you to everyone who still supports me even though im not ac active as i used to be. one day i promise ill update regularly !!

a/n2: also, austin in the new bikeriders movie had me in a chokehold. the austin butler renaissance is upon us, people !!! (he’s also my bday twin WOO) and i know austin didn’t win an oscar for elvis but for the sake of the fic he did in this !!

not proofread

requests open

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since the red carpets were only carpets, you could have sworn they were easy to manage. the theater was only accessible by walking through a line, but that wasn't the case. after only thirty minutes, you had to make a big mistake by trying to use the restroom and ending up opening a broom closet.

“hey,” you heard a voice, and you quickly turned around only to find yourself facing austin. “the ceremony isn’t in the closet, darling.”

“right..” you whisper under your breath and close the door. you smile awkwardly turning on your heels and holding your clutch tightly.

“i was just uh..looking for the restroom but i couldn’t find it” you laugh, looking down and shaking your head, and begin walking away from the boom closet.

austin couldn’t help but chuckle, following behind you while holding his hand behind his back as he walked slowly for you to match his stride.

he could tell that you were an up-and-coming actress, something about the way you carried yourself gave it away, and he could also tell that this was your first time on a red carpet by the way you were clutching your clutch bag so firmly like your life depended on it.

“you look nervous,” he said softly, “it’s your first time on a red carpet, isn’t it?”

you smile sheepishly. “that obvious, huh?” you trail behind austin assuming he is taking you to the restrooms.

“never knew how big these places are” you laugh, holding up the end of your dress so it doesn’t drag.

austin could see how nervous you were by the way you were holding your dress up while you were walking, and he thought that it was adorable, honestly.

he chuckled as you mentioned how big the venue is because you weren’t wrong, it is pretty damn big. “ive been to a few oscars now and i still think the venue is too big,” he said with a laugh, as he walked by your side with that perfect movie star strut.

“which movie are you nominated for?”

you had never been to something like this, and you didn’t even have a premiere for your movie. but somehow, critics loved the movie and now your movie was nominated.

it felt like it happened overnight.

“blue moon” you answer, not expecting him to know it.

the movie was set in the second world war and your character was the spouse of one of the soldiers. after he died, your character joined the war.

it was an underground film, your first lead and you didn’t expect anyone to pick up the movie. but someone did, ended up being shown at a film festival and the critics fell in love with your performance. and that’s how you landed a nomination for best lead actress.

austin’s eyes widened as you mentioned the movie you’re up for, blue moon; he enjoyed that movie, and as he thought about it more he really couldn’t deny that you were fantastic in it.

“no way,” he said in disbelief, “no wonder you’re nominated for best actress, you were incredible in that film.”

“thank you” you nod, noticing you have finally made it to the restrooms.

“and thank you for showing me the way” you chuckle, dropping the train of your dress then stuffing your clutch under your arm and sticking out your hand.

austin takes your hand with a gentle yet firm grip and smiles, nodding. “no problem, glad i could be of help.”

“i’m y/n l/n” you introduced. “it was nice to meet you, austin. thanks for this” you grin, retracting your hand.

“i guess ill catch you later..”

“it was a pleasure to meet you, y/n,” he replied with a smile before watching you walk into the restroom, and he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the door as you disappeared behind it.

he thought you were pretty. very pretty, and he kind of regretted not asking you for your phone number before you disappeared.

so, austin stood there leaning against the wall deciding he would wait on you. just in case you got lost again.

no other reason.

after relieving yourself, you stand in front of the mirror taking in a couple of deep breaths to calm the pounding in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

you open your clutch, picking out a compact and a lipstick. you swipe the color on your lips to touch up the splotches, and quickly powder your face.

you put everything back in your clutch smoothed out your hair and admired your dress.

floor-length satin gown in your favorite color, a ribbed corset look.

“you can do this, y/n/n..” you whisper to yourself then pick up the train of your dress and exit the restroom, hoping you won’t miss the award ceremony.

austin was now pacing in front of the restroom, waiting for you to exit, his eyes fixated on the door, and he found himself running a hand through his styled hair, ruining the gelled look.

he wasn’t sure what had compelled him to wait for you, but here he was, still waiting outside the restroom, tapping his foot anxiously and checking his watch now and then.

austin leaned back against the wall as he waited, trying to look nonchalant as ever, and once the restroom door opened, a soft exhale left his lips.

you let the door shut behind you while smoothing out the front of your dress and began walking down the hallway until you stopped seeing a figure.

you look up from the floor and spot austin, assuming he is waiting for you.

“austin?” you ask softly, taking in a deep breath.

austin’s eyes softened at the sound of his name, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you once he saw you walking towards him, smoothing out the front of your dress and making sure it was wrinkle-free and free of any stains.

“hey,” he replied with a smile and nod, “i was just, uh, making sure you didn’t get lost, again.” austin laughed, looking at you through his eyebrows.

you couldn’t help but chuckle, “no worries, restrooms are pretty simple,” you reply with a toothy grin.

“but, if you wouldn’t mind showing me the way to the theater?” you ask, knowing if you didn’t have the guidance you��d definitely get lost and miss the entire ceremony.

and you didn’t need that kind of embarrassment.

though, deep down you know you wouldn’t win tonight, but still, you wanted to experience being at the freaking oscars!

austin smiled at how eager you were to not get lost again. he chuckled softly as you asked him to guide you to the theater, and he pushed himself off the wall, taking one last look at his watch before walking closer to you.

“and here i was, thinking you’d never ask,” he joked, before holding out his arm for you to grab and wrap your own around.

“don’t wanna risk you ending up in the broom closet again,” he teased.

you drop your head, smiling, and then laugh at his comment about getting lost in the broom closet.

“listen..” you say softly, covering your face with the clutch. “i would say it was one mistake, but with my luck, it’s bound to happen again.”

you carefully take his arm and begin walking towards the theater. you can feel your cheeks warming up.

here you are, lost at the oscar’s and now having the austin butler escort you into the theater.

when you attempted to cover your face with your clutch, he rolled his eyes and gently grabbed it, pulling it away from your face. “no hiding.” he teased.

as you walked side by side, down the halls and towards the theater, austin couldn’t help himself but glance over at you now and then.

he smiled when you laughed at his joke and chuckled even more as you attempted to defend yourself. “just one? you’re sure about that?”

you smile, looking ahead. not being able to look him in the eyes. “no..” you laugh.

“on my first day of filming, i got lost and accidentally locked myself in the hair and makeup trailer” you giggle, recalling one of the most embarrassing moments that’s happened to you. though, this one trumps that.

“no way..” you hear austin laugh wholeheartedly, a sound so beautiful it could turn your legs into jelly.

“yes way” you laugh back, nodding. you weren’t paying attention and almost tripped over the end of your dress.

“here, let me help you with that” austin offers, picking up the train of your dress so you can walk more comfortably.

“see? clumsy.”

austin grins, holding the satin fabric in his hands as you continue towards the theater. “we all have our quirks” he adds. “you’ll warm up to this life, it’ll become easier and if it doesn’t, i’ll help you navigate this journey.” austin spoke without really thinking.

you finally see the two large golden doors which lead into the theater. “ready?” austin grins, raising his eyebrows before opening the door.

when the door opens you’re hit with a soft wind of cool air, the sound of people chattering, and the camera crew getting ready to go live.

“well, let’s hope i can find my seat with ease..” you say walking down the aisle with him towards the seconds for the nominees. “i’ll help,” austin says and begins scanning the row of seats for your name.

y/n l/n

“here you are.” he points to your name plastered on the back of the seat. “right next to mine” he leads you to the two end aisle seats on the front row. your crew sat behind you and austin’s was right next to him.

you were shocked, walking to your seat and letting go of his arm. austin drops the end of your dress gracefully, making sure it doesn’t get dirty.

“what a coincidence, huh?” you take your seat, crossing your legs and placing your clutch in your lap.

austin had what you’d call a shit-eating grin on his face as he sat next to you. “coincidence? or the universe giving us a sign?”

he could tell you were feeling out of place, but he silently tried to make you feel more comfortable by flashing you a reassuring smile.

you shrug, smiling as the staff prepares to go on air. you take in a deep breath, calming your racing heart as you watch the host enter the stage.

“good luck tonight.” austin leans in, whispering. you turn to face him, “you too”. austin winks and then focuses his attention on the stage as the lights dim.

you follow suit, the ceremony officially begins.

a short video montage of all the movies nominated begins to play, and for a second you see yourself.

wow.

after the video, the lights come back on, and out steps the host.

“hello, and welcome to the ninety-sixth oscars, everyone! look at these beautiful faces!”

the room explodes into applause and cheers from the guests.

there’s more to the introduction, bad jokes, awkward laughter, and overall a very, very, long introduction before getting into the awards.

tonight was going to be very long.

“and the nominees for the best lead actor” the host announces, letting a brief video play of all the nominees and their movies.

some actors you knew well, others you didn’t.

“and the oscar goes to..” the host drawls, opening the envelope and a smile appears on her face.

“austin butler!”

the crowd erupts into a roar of cheers and applause, people standing up all around, yourself included. austin stands up hugging his team around him and his friends. he turns to you, smiling as if he won the lottery. “congrats!” you pat his shoulder as he walks past you on stage to accept the award.

“wow..” his deep voice rang through the microphone, looking at the audience and fellow nominees. “i’d uh..wow..all my words are leaving me…i’m standing in front of my heroes. i’m so incredibly grateful to be standing here, i just wanted to say thank you to my team, all the producers, writers, directors, costume, and makeup. everyone. and the presley family for guiding me through this whole process. thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart. and lastly, thank you to all the new people i’ve met” he looks towards you. “i’m so grateful to be standing here. thank you.” he blows a kiss to the crowd before disappearing backstage.

the rest of the male categories went on in between intermissions. many of your favorite actors won, and movies.

then, before you knew it, the female categories were beginning. you saw austin returning to his seat before the nominees were announced.

“now, let’s take a look at the nominees for best female lead role…” the host begins.

like the male category, there are videos of each nominee and then you’re face pops up in a small montage of your movie with your name announced.

austin looked over at you when your face appeared on the big screen, he saw that look in your eyes. he couldn’t describe it. awe? no, it was something more than that. something he had never seen from any of the people he worked with. he had been to many events like this, but you…something about you.

“and the oscar for best female lead role goes too..”

anticipation.

so many great and talented women in this category, that you feel honored to even be considered as good as them.

what if you didn’t win?

but what if you did win? you didn’t even think you prepare an acceptance speech because there is absolutely no way someone like you could-

“y/n l/n! congratulations!”

the world stopped, people around you standing up and applauding. you.

you sat there, mouth agape staring at the stage with your face on the screens like an idiot. your crew grabbing your shoulders to congratulate you as you stand up. hugging some of your crew, then looking at austin wide-eyed. he’s smiling at you, saying something like “i knew you’d win” but you couldn’t be sure, you were in shock.

you begin towards the stage, austin trailing behind you holding your dress so you won’t trip. if there’s one thing austin learned about you tonight, you were clumsy.

you look back, thanking austin with your eyes approach the host, and accept the award.

“oh man..” you begin, feeling tears prickling your eyes. a quiet laugh escapes your throat, looking down at the golden award and then back to the crowd. “i didn’t have a speech prepared, i didn’t expect to win at all. but i wanted to thank everyone who worked on the set of this movie. thank you to the director who saw my indie films and thought i had the talent to portray my character. thank you to my team who always supported me. thank you to my family who always believed in me..who pushed me to work harder..” you sniffle, lip quivering.

“thank you. thank you so much.” you cry. “and thank you to austin, who helped me when i got lost, otherwise i would’ve missed the best moment in my life”. you look towards austin, your teary eyes glittering underneath the lights. the crowd laughs at this, finding it humorous.

austin smiled as he listened to your heartfelt acceptance speech. he couldn’t help but feel proud of you, watching the way you held the award in your hands and thanked everyone who had helped you along the way.

his heart skipped a beat when you mentioned him in your speech. he chuckled softly as the crowd laughed when you joked about getting lost, and he felt a warmth spread through him as he heard you express your gratitude towards him.

“and to all my fellow nominees, i can’t believe im standing in front of you. i’m so honored to be here with you tonight. and i realize i am rambling so i will accept this and go” you laugh, waving to your crew and exiting the stage.

as you walked off the stage, austin stood up and applauded once again, clapping louder than ever before.

the rest of the night continued without fail, the whole thing continued for about three and a half hours. you knew it was going to be long, but you don’t think you’d ever get used to it.

the ceremony ended, leading you and the other winners backstage to get pictures and interviews.

you stand with your friends, who also are a part of your crew. you’re still absolutely shocked. crying on and off as they congratulate you on one of the biggest achievements of your career.

you weren’t aware of austin approaching you until you felt a hand on your lower back. you look over your shoulder and see his baby blues. “austin!” you grin, turning your body toward him. “hi, darling. congratulations.” he says, gesturing to the award in your hand.

“thank you” you bring the award up to your face, grinning like a proud parent. “and congrats to you”

austin nods, looking down at his award. “looks like we both got pretty lucky, huh?”

you nod, agreeing. “i guess so..” you say softly.

you see austin’s eyebrow raise, his eyes dancing over your figure against the wall. you couldn’t quite place what he was thinking. he could be thinking many things, but you wouldn’t know. he was too hard to read, for you at least.

“say, uh..” he smirks, biting his lip. “how would you feel if i asked for your number?” his extra arm came up to the wall beside your head, entrapping you.

oh boy.

you hold the award close to your chest, looking up at him. “well, i’d feel like i’d be dreaming but im not going to say no.” you answer.

“good because i don’t know what id do if you said no” he chuckles, his eyes not leaving yours.

“i’ll call you, we’ll go out sometime. i wanna know more of you. if it’s anything like i saw tonight, i think i might fall in love with you.”

you can feel your ears burning as he speaks, his raspy voice making your legs feel weak. his eyes looking down on you, god. he was driving you insane. his slightly gelled hair, his grey suit, his cologne.

he was so close.

“then i guess you should be ready for that,” you say, smirking.

you heard your name being called, your manager trying to get you for an interview.

you push yourself off the wall, but before you leave you pause. “call me.” you wink and then walk away, leaving austin’s world rocked. never had he met someone like you, never has he been this intrigued and captivated by someone.

thank god he found you when he did.

#bartxnhood asks #bartxnhood writes #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fan fiction #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #elvis presley x reader

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butlervibesonly · 1 day ago

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𝑊𝐸𝐿𝐶𝑂𝑀𝐸 𝑇𝑂 𝐺𝑅𝐴𝐶𝐸𝐿𝐴𝑁𝐷 PART 2|| 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐭 || Austin! Elvis story

PART ONE OF THIS PART → PART THREE coming soon...

• Summary: Evils shows Y/n Graceland as she spends the day here with him. Eventually, she also joins the Presley family for lunch, revealing the sad truth of her parents.

• Pairing: Austin! Elvis x female reader

• Warnings: flirting, making out, kissing, probably typos

• NOTE!! My acknowledge of Elvis is not so big, all things I know are from movie, documents, webs etc! So I deeply apologize for any mistakes/typos/misunderstanding that have nothing to do with reality. All of this is fic and has nothing to do with no one or anything. Based just on Austin's role of Elvis!Thank you for understanding! 🫶🏼

• Note: Yall I apologize if its clingy or something, I try my best really 😭 AND MAKING OUT SCENES ARE NOT MY CUP OF TEA THIS JS ACTUALLY FIRST TIME EVER I WRITTEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS 🫨

Graceland is huge. You would get lost if it wasn’t of Elvis who shows you everything. Every little thing looks so luxurious and so rich. More like a house it feels like Elvis’ kingdom he’s living in.

“There, doll, is my bedroom,” he stops in front of big door. “I don’t usually let anyone in but I need ya go there.” There is a playful chuckle on Elvis’ face. You smile at him, knowing how lucky you are. “Well, that sounds really like honor.”

Both of you enter the bedroom which is covered in dark shades. Your eyes land on his massive bed and door to his own bathroom. “Wow,” you breathe out, your eyes exploring the room. Elvis stands next to you and you feel the warmth of his body on your own. “This is really - something.”

Elvis glances at you, smirking. “Mama’s makin’ lunch for us. Wanna sit before it’s done?” he gestures at the couch. You nod, sitting down. “Elvis… What did I do to… Y’know… Get this lucky?” you ask as he sits down beside you.

“Ya think it’s luck?” Elvis replies, with the cockiness in his eyes. “Y/n, I invited ya to get to know ya better, it wouldn’t be fair if I let you go hungry…” he, slowly and gently takes your hand into his.

You smile to his kindness and look around again. There is a guitar resting in the corner, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. You look into your lap, fingers nervously tracing the pattern of your dress. Elvis sits next to you, hand supporting his head as he rests his elbow on the backrest. His eyes check you - it feels like he is eyeing every detail of yours.

“So, ya have always been good at school?” he asks, glancing at you with a curious smile. You nod and turn your face to look him in the eyes. “I kinda have to. My papa’s always been very... strict about it.”

Elvis tilts his head. “How strict?”

“Strict like... ‘Education is important, no distractions, no boys!’ kind of strict…” you answer, lips curling into a small smile when you realize how naive it sounds. “Guess I’m breaking his plans, huh?”

“Mhm… pretty much,” you laugh softly, but your gaze instantly shifts to the floor. “He just wants the best for me, I guess.” Elvis studies you for a moment, his expression softening. “And what do ya want?”

You hesitate for a while. “I mean, I want to make him proud, of course. But... sometimes I feel like there’s more out there, you know?”

“Then why don’t ya… do what ya want?” Your cheeks flushes, and glance at him shyly. “I would love to, really. But I’m afraid,” you start, your voice trembling. “I’m afraid that if I didn’t do what he wants, I might never get the bright future he promises me.”

Elvis shakes his head, his eyebrows raising. “Hmm…” he murmurs. “I wouldn’t treat ya like this, doll. If you were mine, ya would have everything.” At this your heart skips a beat. “What do you mean?” you ask confused

“If you were mine,” he says his voice dipping deep enough to make your heart race even more than before , “ya would have everything ya ever wanted. Freedom, adventure... Ya wouldn’t have to live by anyones control, Satnin.”

‘Satnin’ replays in your head. He calls you either Doll or Satnin…

“I’ve never met someone like ya before. You don’t want anything from me. You’re not... trying to be someone you’re not.” he leans closer his finger removing some hair from your face.

Your chest tightens at his touch, and warmth spreads through you at his words. “Well, maybe that’s because I don’t really know who I’m supposed to be, yet.”

“Maybe that’s what makes ya so special,” he says quietly, barely above a whisper. What Elvis actually does is that he leans even closer, stopping a short distance away from your face to give you a moment to pull away if what he's planning isn't something you want to do as well.

But you don’t pull away. You and him did this before, after all… Elvis presses his lips against yours softly. His full lips feels so gentle on yours. It's almost as it was for the first time but there is one difference - it's more intense now. His lips are more warm and they part slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside. His hand travels on your hip, while the other hand cups your cheek carefully.

He quickly pulls away, his both hands now on your hips so that he can carry you all the way onto his lap. You sit astride in his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist as he kisses you again more greedy.

“Elvis-” you breathe out against his lips. However, he doesn't let you speak and before you can say anything, his lips are on yours again, biting your lower lip. His big hands roam your body gently, sliding from your curves all the way to your back so that he can pull you closer to his chest. Closing the gap between each other, you tangle your fingers into Elvis' dark hair.

You feel like a swarm of butterflies is flying in your stomach from the tingling you noticed earlier. Elvis girns into the kiss, knowing damn well how he makes you feel. “Elvis, I-“

“Doll,” he trails his kisses on your neck. “You feel like everything to me, angel.” he sighs, and you feel his breath on your skin.

“Bewbie! Lunch is ready!” As much as you would love to continue this, you both pull away from each other. Elvis presses his forehead against yours, rubbing both of your hips. “Guess ya will have to come more often…” You smile at his statement.

Both of you eventually gets downstairs where the dining room is just across the living by the stairs. The dining room looks as luxurious as the rest of the house. The table is set with plates and a food along with glasses. You almost gasp at the look of it - Gladys did this all because of you.

You sit in your chair, hands in your lap, trying not to fidget with them hem of your skirt under the gaze of Evlis’ mother. Gladys is a petite woman with soft, dark curls her eyes looking serious but actually she is very kind.

“Now, don’t you be shy, sweetie,” Gladys says motioning toward the plate of fried chicken. “Go on and help yourself. I made plenty, hope you’re gonna like it.”

“Thank you a lot.” you nod, your voice soft as you reach for a piece. Across the table, Elvis gives you an encouraging smile. “Mamas chicken’s famous around here,” he smirks. “Ya are in for a treat.”

“Stop it, now, El,” Gladys says with a laugh, swatting at Elvis playfully. “Don’t let him fool you, darlin’.” Gladys leans forward slightly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity and questions. “So, Y/n, tell us a little more about yourself. You’re a student, aren’t ya?” You nod, taking a look at Gladys and Elvis. “Yes, I am. I’m finishing up university this year.”

“And what’re your plans after that?” Vernon joins in, his voice carrying a note of authority, just like Elvis’. “Well,” you begin, your voice trembling slightly. “My parents wants me to have the best future possible. So that I’m successful and surrounded with the best only. They’re... really serious about education.”

Gladys tilts her head up, her expression softening. “That’s good of ’em, but you don’t sound too sure about it, darlin’.” You hesitate for a second again, knowing Elvis asked you familiar question earlier. You glance at him briefly before lowering your sight to the plate in front of you. “I’m not quite sure yet… They’re real strict, y’know. Always have been. I think they just want what’s best for them and not for me.”

“Don’t get me wrong, but that sounds like they are fools,” Vernon says. “They kinda are…” you admit, your voice quieter. “They’ve got all these rules, especially my father. No boys until I graduate, no distractions, just school. Only school. Sometimes I even feel like... like I don’t have a chance to figure out what I really want.”

Gladys’ brow furrows and she eventually reaches across the table to pat your hand. “Bless your heart, honey. It must be hard to be in your position. But y’know, you can always reach out to us and we’ll help ya. You’ll figure it all out, I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you so much.” you say, your cheeks blushing at Gladys’ kindness. As much as you love your mama for raising you up and giving you all what you need, she would never step in like Gladys does.

“Well,” she adds, leaning back in her chair with a smile, “I can see why our boy’s so smitten with you.” Your eyes widen, and you glance at him. He grins, leaning forward to prop his chin on his hand. Even tho what just happened between the two of you, you couldn’t stop getting more surprised.

“Mama,” Elvis steps in, his tone teasing, “don’t say this, ya scarin’ her off.” Gladys laughs, waving him off. “Oh, shush, Bewbie. I’m just sayin’ she’s a sweet girl! You could stand to keep some better company, what with all them girls chasin’ after you.”

Vernon chuckles, nodding. “Your mama ain’t wrong about that.” You can’t help but laugh, your nerves easing just a little as the conversation continues with some fun stories, and all the jokes. You feel so welcomed here, almost as if you belong there.

As all of you start to clear the table, Gladys pulls you aside. “Y/n, sweetie,” she says softly, her hand holding yours, “I know it ain’t always easy standin’ up for whatcha want, but don’t let nobody decide your life for ya, y’understand?” You nod, the words settling deep in your heart. “I’ll try, I promise, and... Thank you Mrs. Presley- I mean. Gladys,” you remember she asked you to call her by the first name.

“Y’all welcomed me with open arms and… I never felt better. Not even at my own house. And I mean, I know Elvis just for few weeks but this all means a lot!”

“Oh, darlin’, I can see ya two are just gettin’ to know each other,�� Gladys points with her eyes at your neck. You rub your neck confusedly, turning to see a reflection of yourself in one of the mirrors that are almost everywhere in the house. You see a slight hickey on your neck, and you gasp.

“Oh, dang it!” your hands flying over your mouth. “My father will loose his mind!” you turn back at Gladys, panicking. Her hands travel to your shoulders as she clearly wants to calm you down. “No, no, we can fix this,” she gestures you to stay here and walks somewhere.

As Gladys returns to you, she carries a bottle of makeup in her hand. “We’ll cover this up with makeup, sweetie,” she helps you cover the hickey Elvis left there. You never felt more embarrassed but clearly Gladys doesn’t really mind at all. “Keep this,” she gives you the bottle. “I have plenty of those,”

You smile at her gladly and Elvis appears in the door. “Ready for some music?” he smiles. The two of you together enjoy his music as he plays the piano or his guitar, and you enjoy so much fun.

As time comes for you to go back home, Elvis gives you ride back home. You wish you didn’t have to return home actually, because you felt so free and so independent. As Elvis stops in front of your house, he reaches for your hand, hidden enough so that your parents wouldn’t see in a case they would be looking.

He notices the pout on your face and he leans in loser. “Don’t be sad, doll,” his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I will write ya and call ya if that will be possible.”

You smile a little, knowing you mean something to him. “Thanks, Elvis. For today and for… for everything.” you breathe out, looking over at your house. You see that the kitchen window is opened, definitely so that your parents can hear you arrive. “Your mama is such a sweet woman and your dad… I wish I had parents like you. Because you have freedom.”

Elvis furrows his eyebrows, squeezing your hand tighter. "Graceland is always open to you, Satnin,” he says. You breathe a sigh of relief and see your father looking out the window. "Now go, honey, or I'll never let ya see me or be with me again." You let go of Elvis' hand and get out of the car.

You turn at the door to wave and mouth, "Bye, Elvis." He nods in farewell, his eyes gleaming. As you enter the house, your father is waiting in the hallway. Your hands are clenched into fists, waiting for him to ask or worse - notice something. You covered your hickey with Gladys's makeup before leaving Graceland, but you're still overcome with fear.

"How were ya?" he asks, his eyes scanning you. With a deep breath, you searched your mind for an answer as the memories from today started to come back to you. "Amazing, papa, everyone was nice to me," you replied, heading to your room. "But I'm tired now. Good night."

As soon as you get into your room, you shut the door behind you and fall down on your bed. You can’t stop thinking about Elvis; about the things you two have done, and how you felt that you are his girl. You know one thing for sure - you love that man with your whole heart.

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fandom #austinbutler #austin butler fic #austin butler imagines #elvis 2022 movie #elvis 2022 #austin butler smut #austin butler elvis presley #austin elvis #elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #elvis film #elvis presley

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silver-screen-divas · 11 days ago

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Stella Stevens, whose real name is Estelle Caro Eggleston, is an American actress, producer, director, and model who began her career in 1959. Splendid blonde, Stella brought to the cinema an unusual appeal, which brought together freshness and casualty.

She got her first contract with 20th Century Fox, but dumped her at six months. After landing the role of "Appassionata Von Climax" in the film Li'l Abner (1959), she was hired by the producer Paramount Studios (1959-1963) and later by Columbia Pictures (1964-1968). For the role in the film "Most Promising Newcomer - Female", she shared the 1960 Golden Globe with Tuesday Weld, Angie Dickinson and Janet Munro. In 1960 Stella was Playboy magazine's Playmate of the Month for January, she also appeared in the magazine in 1965 and 1968. She was considered one of the 100 sexiest actresses of the 20th century. Throughout the 1960s, she was one of the most photographed women worldwide, along with Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy, Marilyn Monroe, Brigitte Bardot, Ann-Margret and Raquel Welch. In 1962 she performed alongside Elvis Presley in Girls! Girls! Girls!. That same year, she also starred in Jerry Lewis's The Mad Professor. In 1970 Stella performed The Ballad of Cable Hogue alongside Jason Robards. In 1972, she appeared in the film The Adventure of Poseidon, by Irwin Allen, in the role of "Linda Rogo" (the ex-prostitute wife of the character played by Ernest Borgnine).

Throughout her career, she appeared in dozens of television shows, notably in the 1981-1982 season of the Flamingo Road series. Stella teamed up with the late Sandy Dennis in a women-oriented production of Neil Simon's The Odd Couple, playing the role of the unaltered.

She produced and directed two films: The Ranch (1989) and The American Heroine (1979).

#stella stevens #beautiful #beauty #actress #hollywood #star #classic #diva #vintage #classic hollywood #old hollywood

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atleastpleasetelephone · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 31 - Aftercare

A/N: Finally, the last day. I'm not sure I could really say I enjoyed doing this, but it's over now.

Pairing: Elvis x reader

Word count: 741

TWs: Choking, slapping, name-calling, cumming on face... and then the worst trigger of all - BABY TALK.

Kinktober masterlist

His fingers curl around your throat as he feels you getting closer to orgasm, thrusting harder and faster, losing himself as he chases his own high too.

“Take it, ya dirty little slut.”

The words and the pressure of his fingers on your windpipe push you over the edge into oblivion and you're clenching around him as he carries on verbally abusing you, slapping your face and telling you how dirty you are and how he's going to cum all over you. You moan pornographically and he pulls out, stroking himself a couple of times before moving so he cums on your face and in your open mouth. He falls down beside you, panting.

Your whole body tingles as you start to come round from your orgasm, lying there feeling warm and contented.

He closes his eyes, feeling the rush of endorphins too. Fuck. He loves having you like this, so rough and animalistic. Though it always makes him feel a little guilty afterwards, no matter how many times you tell him you love it too. As he starts to feel like he's coming round again he sits up slowly and then pads over to the bathroom to find a washcloth.

“Sorry, baby. Made a real mess,” he says, sweetly, wiping your face.

You smile. “S'ok El.”

Tossing the cloth onto the floor, he pulls you into his arms.

“You're so beautiful, baby.” Kissing your neck. “Like an angel. Can't believe I got so lucky with ya.”

You giggle, bashful. “Don't be silly. I'm lucky.”

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head and pulls your chin up so he can look into your eyes. “You're just perfect. My perfect little angel. God, you're so precious.”

You keep giggling. It's hard not to be embarrassed when he says this kind of thing, but you know why he's doing it. Whenever he's rough with you, afterwards he's so gentle and caring. Like he's telling you that he doesn't really mean it when he calls you a slut or pulls your hair.

“It's okay, El. Really. I had fun.”

He pulls you in somehow closer and nuzzles your neck.

“I love everything about ya, baby. From this pretty little head down to your cute little sooties.”

He starts to kiss you then, starting at your temple and finishing at your big toe. You wriggle and laugh and look at him with big brown eyes full of love.

Okay, so maybe you enjoy this a little more than you're willing to admit.

Looking up at you through his lashes he moves back up your body again, smothering you with feather-light kisses.

“Mmmm. I love it when you do that,” you tell him. “My pookie bear.” Your fingers in his hair, a grin on your face.

He puts his arms back around you, cuddling you close again.

“He yoves her,” he murmurs, his nose pressed against yours.

“She yoves him too,” you coo back.

He gets like this when he's done with any kind of love-making, but he's especially cute when he's been rough with you.

“Promise?” He asks, pouting.

“Promise. She yoves him forever.”

He growls and buries his head in the crook of your neck.

“He yoves her forever.”

You giggle and grab hold of him tightly. “She yoves him more!”

“No!” He's like a little child now, cuddling you and squeezing you and desperate to be as close to you as he can get. “Not possible!”

You both giggle then, like a pair of kids, rolling around in the bed arguing over who loves the other more. Eventually, breathless, you land with your head on his chest as he sprawls on his back.

“She never leave him?” He whispers into your hair.

“Never,” you reply, firmly. “Never, never, never.”

He always asks you this. Always worried you'll leave like his mama did, paranoid and afraid that all women will leave him in the end. But you mean it. And looking at him lying there in the bed now you can't imagine how you ever could. How anyone could.

He kisses your hair. “He never leave her either.”

You close your eyes, sighing contentedly, and feel yourself drift off to sleep. He sighs too. It's nights like this when he feels that bit less lonely, like maybe he can fall asleep without chemical assistance for a change.

Never, never, never. He always asks and that's always what you say. Maybe he’s just starting to believe you.

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis imagine #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #kinktober #starsandskieskinktober

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sissylittlefeather · 25 days ago

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If I Can Dream: Chapter 3

A/N: I hope you are all enjoying this one! I love Jo so much and this story is about to really heat up. Head to my Masterlist for the first two chapters!

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, we've reached the smut! Oral sex, p in v sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, also erectile dysfunction frustration

Word count: ~4k

But he misses her in his arms, the big bed feeling cold and empty.

******

Jo drags herself through work on Thursday, coming home to immediately get in the bath with a bottle of wine. She puts on an Elvis record, the B side to Promised Land, and sobs to the sound of his voice. She knows it's silly to be sad over something that never really happened, but she'll never stop loving him. The record stops and she gets out of the tub, wrapping herself in a fluffy robe and resetting the needle. It’s Midnight plays again and she lays on the bed crying with the album cover in her arms. She's in this position when Evelyn calls.

“Oh, Jo-Jo, surely you knew it wasn't going to go anywhere. The man dates beauty queens and Playboy bunnies.” Jo takes a big gulp of wine.

“Yeah, but you weren't there when we woke up on the couch together. We talked for hours.” Evelyn sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Okay, you're right. But will you give it up now? You met him. You went to his house. And now it's done. So please, ask Alan to the wedding. I don't want you to be the only one without a date.”

“Yeah.” Jo takes a deep breath and sighs. “Yeah, I'll ask Alan tomorrow.”

******

Elvis spends the whole of Thursday in bed. The aching loneliness is back and he just can't seem to find a reason to do much else. At around 1am, there's a soft knock on his door.

“Who is it?” Jerry pokes his head in the door.

“It's just me, boss.”

“Hey, Jer.”

“You alright?” Jerry enters the room and sits on the end of the bed.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Elvis doesn't move from his position in the bed on his side. Jerry looks at him silently for a while. He's not sure what to do to help, but he knows he needs to try something. An idea comes to him; it's risky, but he has to try.

“What happened to that girl?” Elvis tries to keep his breathing even.

“What girl?” Jerry rolls his eyes. He knows Elvis knows who he's talking about.

“Jo? Wasn't that her name?”

“She's gone.” Elvis closes his eyes and tries not to picture her, think about her laugh, or the scent of her hair.

“I thought she lived in Memphis.” Jerry knows he's pushing his luck here, but he's not going to give up.

“She does! Leave me the fuck alone, Jerry!” Elvis sits up and yells, cringing with the stiffness of having been in bed all day. Jerry purses his lips.

“All I'm sayin’ is you were happier in those 24 hours with her than you have been in years. Maybe it's worth givin’ her a call.” He stands and walks from the room, slamming the door behind himself.

Elvis lays back down and tries to think of anything but Jo, but it doesn't work. Eventually, he sits up and stares at the phone. He picks up the receiver no less than four times before he gets up the courage to dial her number.

Jo’s phone rings and rattles her from her deep slumber. Her head already hurts a little from the wine, but when she realizes what's happening, she takes a deep breath and grabs the phone.

“Elvis…”

“Hi honey.” She looks up at the ceiling and tries to keep her tears in her eyes. “Were you, um, were ya sleepin’?”

“Yeah, I was. It's almost 3am. Again.”

“Oh…” Elvis starts to lose his nerve, thinking this was a terrible decision. “I'm sorry; I-I'll leave ya alone.”

“No! It's okay. I'm… glad you called…”

“Are ya?” She laughs softly.

“Yeah, of course I am.” He smiles and relaxes into the conversation. His first instinct is to ask her to come over, but he stops himself before he does. He's afraid that might send the wrong message.

“You workin’ tomorrow?” She sighs.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” He nods, forgetting that she can't see him. And then it just slips out before he can stop it.

“You should come over when you're done.” He cringes a little, knowing that this whole thing is probably a mistake.

“Elvis, I'd love to, I really would, but I promised my niece I would take her to see Christmas lights.” Jo curses under her breath, hating the idea of turning down a chance to see him again. “Why don't you come with us?”

“Oh, honey, I-I-I-” He stumbles over his words trying to come up with an excuse.

“I've just decided. You're coming with us. I think you need to get out of that house.”

“Jo, honey, I don't-I can't-”

“What? Ride in a car? Yes you can. I'll pick you up around 5:30.” Something about the way she says it makes him feel like he couldn't say no even if he wanted to.

******

At about 5:45pm, Jo pulls up to the Graceland gates with her niece Amy in the backseat of her old pea-green car and asks to be let in. Jerry is so happy to see her back that he's practically bouncing when he opens the front door.

“Hey, Jo! He'll be down in a second.” She nods and they wait in the foyer. Eventually Elvis comes down in a two-tone blue suit. He had originally had on one of his tracksuits but decided to change at the last second, and he's glad he did. Jo is so cute in her little cowl-neck sweater dress and boots that he almost hopes photographers will find them. She lights up when she sees him and he can't help but smile too.

“Hi! This is my niece-” The little girl sticks out her hand.

“Amy Louise Jenkins.” Elvis smiles down at her and takes her hand, shaking it gently.

“Elvis Aaron Presley. It's a pleasure to meet you.” Jo has to physically stop herself from melting on the spot. “How old are ya? You seem about the same age as my Lisa Marie.”

“I'm seven, but I'll be eight in May.” He nods.

“I was right. Lisa will be eight in February.” She smiles and turns to Jo, taking her hand in one and Elvis's in the other.

“Let's go see some lights!” Elvis looks at Jo over Amy's head and shrugs. Jo suppresses a grin and they make their way out to her old, beat-up car. Elvis looks at it and turns to her with his eyebrows raised.

“Not all people drive Cadillacs.” Jo whispers.

“No, honey, I know that. It's fine.”

The rest of the evening passes with all three of them belting out Christmas carols as they drive around the wealthier neighborhoods in Memphis looking for lights. In the beginning, Elvis wouldn't sing, but with some gentle cajoling from Jo and Amy, he finally breaks down. When Blue Christmas comes on, he sheds any last hints of nervousness and puts on a full show. The girls both applaud wildly and he has to grab the wheel when Jo almost crashes into a parked car in her enthusiasm. When he does, he unintentionally puts his arm behind her on the seat and she leans her head on his shoulder.

“You want me to drive, honey?” He speaks softly, enjoying the feel of her so close to him.

“Yeah, do you mind?”

“Not at all.” She parks the car and he replaces her in the driver's seat. He's surprised but pleased when she settles onto his shoulder again.

By 8 o’clock, Amy is snoozing soundly in the backseat and Elvis follows Jo's directions to her stepsister’s house. When they get there, Jo looks into the backseat and sighs.

“I'm not sure how I'll get her to the door without waking her up.”

“I got ‘er.” Elvis is not sure where his confidence comes from, but she's no bigger than Lisa Marie and he carries her all the time. They get out of the car and he scoops Amy into his arms, walking up to the front door. For a second, he forgets who he is until Jo's brother-in-law answers the door and his jaw drops. Jo realizes what's happening and interjects.

“Hey, Rob, this is Elvis.” Her brother-in-law scoffs.

“Yeah. I know.” Elvis tries to smile genially.

“She fell asleep in the car. Hope this is okay.” Rob nods, still a little starstruck and takes Amy from him.

“Thanks…”

“Goodnight, Rob.” Jo takes Elvis's arm and turns him around to head back to the car. She can only keep her giggles under control for a few feet before she lets them out. He looks at her, amused.

“What's got you tickled?”

“His face! I forgot who you were for a second.” He chuckles.

“Honestly, so did I.” They get back in the car and she leans on his shoulder again for the drive back to Graceland.

When they get back to the house, Elvis parks Jo's car in the driveway and his stomach sinks at the thought that she'll go home soon. Again, he wants her to stay, but he's nervous about her expectations in the bedroom.

“Can I come in?” He raises his eyebrows, surprised at her boldness.

“Umm…”

“I'm just not ready to go home yet. And I feel like every time I leave, the likelihood of seeing you again decreases.” He swallows, knowing that she's right. The more he allows himself to think about it, the more he worries whether this should continue. But when she's here right in front of him, it's hard to turn her down. He feels himself nod.

“Yeah. I dunno what we'll do-”

“We'll find something. Let's go.” He has to admit, her happy-go-lucky attitude is infectious.

They get into the foyer and she looks around the house while he stands there awkwardly.

“Umm…”

“You don't have a Christmas tree.” He hadn't even realized. Usually he's instructed someone to set it up by now, but this year he forgot.

“No, I guess I don't. I'll have someone set it up before Lisa Marie comes.”

“We’ll do that!” He looks at her confused.

“Tell someone to set up the tree?” She purses her lips.

“No, ya brat, we’ll do it ourselves and decorate it.” He scowls.

“I ain't a brat.”

“I know. So quit actin' like one. Let's get the tree. Where is it?”

“I think it's in storage somewhere. Mary probably knows.”

“Well, okay then. Let's go.” She walks towards the kitchen and he follows her. He's quickly learning that when she puts her mind to something, she's going to make it happen regardless of the obstacles. In general, he's not used to this level of agency or determination in a woman, but at his age it's kind of nice to not be in charge for once.

With Jerry and Mary's help, they manage to locate the tree and boxes of decorations. It takes them a while, but after lots of direction from Jo and laughter from both of them, they manage to get it done.

“Okay, plug it in!”

“Yes ma'am, miss bossy.” He gives her a little salute and she giggles. The sound of her laugh warms him from the inside out and he thinks to himself that taking her instruction is worth it for this feeling. The thought gets even stronger when he plugs in the tree and she squeals with delight.

“Oh, it's so pretty! Elvis come look!” He stands and walks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist instinctively. Maybe he could just let this happen.

“It is pretty.” He murmurs in her ear.

“You know the best way to look at a Christmas tree, right?”

“This seems like a pretty good way.”

“C’mere.” She moves away from him and he decides he needs to get her back in his arms as quickly as possible. He watches as she lays down on the floor with her head up under the tree. “Ahhh, get down here. It's gorgeous.”

Shaking his head, he lowers himself to the ground and grunts as he arranges to be under the tree. He's not sure how he'll get up again, but when he sees her with the colored lights shining on her face, he decides he doesn't care.

“Isn't it pretty?” She looks over at him and he brings his hand up to her cheek, running his thumb across it gently.

“Beautiful.” He can no longer stop himself as he leans over and presses his lips to hers.

The kiss is soft and sweet, but when he pulls back to look at her, his heart skips. He hasn't felt like this about a woman in a long time and it scares him. She leans in to kiss him again and he backs away.

“You wanna tour?” He smiles awkwardly and she blinks a few times.

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” She's completely confused by his quick shift, wondering if she's done something wrong, but she follows his lead as he moves from under the tree. It takes them both several tries and quite a bit of grunting, but eventually they both make it back to standing. He holds both of her hands in his and looks down at her. Almost against his will, he leans in and kisses her softly. There it is again, the heart skip that makes him so nervous. He pulls back from the kiss and just looks at her. She's completely perplexed by his kisses and subsequent hesitation, but before she can say anything, he wraps an arm around her waist and starts to lead her through the house.

The last place he shows her is the pool. He realizes it hasn't been drained and curses Jerry. It's freezing outside, so he holds her again from behind with her head against his chest.

“We should jump in.” She says quietly. He laughs and presses his lips to her temple. Why can't he keep himself from kissing her? He’s torn from that thought when she speaks again. “I'm serious! I've heard it's good for you. Let's do it.”

“Honey, you're crazy.”

“Am I? I'm doing it.” She pulls away from him and walks to the edge of the pool.

“Jo, no. It might be dangerous.” Putting her hands on her hips, she turns to face him.

“Nah. And anyway I thought you were a daredevil? What happened to the guy who had firework fights?”

“He had to grow up.” There's a hint of bitterness in his voice. She shakes her head, walking towards him and resting her hand on the side of his face.

“No. Time passed. Growing up is optional.” He leans down and kisses her again. It's like he can't get enough. She mumbles against his lips. “I refuse.”

Then, she turns and takes off running, jumping into the pool fully-clothed. The cold water overwhelms her body with sensation, shocking her system.

“Jo!” When she surfaces she lets out a little scream and shivers.

“Come on! Don't make me do this by myself!”

“You're fucking crazy, honey.”

“Yeah! And you're a pussy.” He scowls again, his masculinity offended.

“No, I ain't.” Her teeth chatter, but she refuses to back down.

“Prove it.” He puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head.

“Damn it, honey.” She giggles as he walks to the edge of the pool. He looks up at the sky when she gestures for him to join her. The stars twinkle down on him and he wonders: what if he does take this plunge with her? Would it kill him? Unlikely. And if he doesn't do it, what is he choosing instead? Suddenly, he's not just thinking about the pool. He looks back down at her, shining with life and sparkling like the stars. “Alright, fuck it.”

And then he jumps. His whole body screams when the icy water crashes into his skin. But he survives and feels more alive than he has in years. He surfaces and pulls her to him, kissing her deeply. This time when his heart skips, he leans into it, slipping his tongue into her mouth and pushing his body against hers. Every part of him buzzes with life and need and something he can't quite put his finger on. She shivers in his arms, not sure if it's the cold from the water or the heat from the kiss that's running through her. He pulls back and runs his fingertips down the side of her face.

“Honey, you're shakin’. Let's go inside.” She nods and kisses him deeply again.

They manage to get out of the pool and run through the house to the upstairs bathroom, giggling like teenagers and dripping all over the carpet. He starts a hot shower and they both start stripping off wet clothes. When they're down to their underwear, he grabs her and pulls her to him, crashing his lips into hers in a full open-mouthed kiss. They tumble into the shower together and moan as the hot water touches their skin. He doesn't stop her when her hand drifts below his waist, dipping into his underwear. To his own surprise, he's hard as a rock and he groans as she strokes him gently. His hands move over her whole body, unclasping her bra and pushing her panties down frantically.

“Bed?” She mumbles as she removes his underwear, leaving them both naked. He's so relieved she suggested it, he nods vehemently without moving his mouth from hers. A decade ago, he would've just bent her over in the shower, but now he needs something a little more stable. What he doesn't know is she does too. She might be 4 years younger, but she's no twenty-something and the thought of getting on her knees in the shower is not appealing. They quickly dry off, still pressed together, and he walks her backwards into the bedroom, where she lays on the bed and he crawls on top of her, dropping hot kisses on her skin wherever he can reach. She spreads her legs and he goes to push into her, but the move from the bathroom was a little too much for him.

“God fucking damnit!” He curses loudly and she grabs his face.

“It's okay.” When he tries to protest, she shakes her head and pushes him onto his back. “Do you think this is the first time this has happened to me? It's okay, Elvis.”

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, but he whips them open again when he feels her mouth around his soft cock.

“Honey, I don't know if-”

“Shh. Let me work. You just think about what it would feel like to fuck me. Focus on the sensations of it. Tell me how my pussy feels, babe.” She goes back to moving her mouth on him.

“Jo…”

“Tell me.” He sighs and closes his eyes again. What she's doing does feel really good and imagining having sex with her is easier than jumping in the pool was, so he tries to think about it.

“It's tight… wet…”

“What else, babe?”

“It's… squeezing my cock just right…” He starts to get into it, losing himself in his fantasy and the way her mouth and hand feels on him. “I can feel you cum; you're so sexy when you cum for me.”

He moans softly and she tries not to smile as he begins to harden in her mouth. She swirls her tongue around his sensitive head and takes his balls in her hand to massage them as she works.

“Fuck, yeah baby. God that's good.” In another few seconds, he's as hard as he was in the shower and she sits up, stroking him with her hand.

“You wanna actually feel me now? See if your imagination was right?” She hovers over him, dragging the tip of his dick against her entrance to cover it in her arousal.

“More than anything.” He grabs her hips and she whimpers as she starts to sink onto him, moving slowly to give herself the chance to adjust.

“Oh god… fuck.” She groans as he fills her fully, his cock so deep inside her as she grinds against his hips. She starts to pick up a steady rhythm of sliding him in and out, bouncing and rolling and moaning.

“Better… it's better…” He groans, running his hands up to cup her breasts. She arches her back as she pushes him even deeper, his cock hitting her g-spot with every movement.

“Fuck, Elvis…”

“You've got a dirty mouth, honey.” She laughs.

“You didn't seem to mind when it was wrapped around your cock.” He blushes a little, still unaccustomed to women who own their sexuality. His hands move down to grip her hips as he helps her move on him.

“Careful. Keep this up and I'll fill that pretty little mouth again.” He grabs her chin and runs his thumb along her bottom lip. She pulls his thumb into her mouth and swirls her tongue on it.

“You promise?” She smiles mischievously and he grabs her, pulling her down onto his chest.

“Gonna fill this pretty little pussy with cum first, honey.” He whispers in her ear as he starts to thrust up into her from underneath. She whimpers, the change in position pushing her to the edge of an orgasm.

“Yes! Oh god… I'm so close…” He feels her walls flutter around him and grunts.

“Come on, honey. Cum on my dick. Let me feel it.” That's all it takes for her to tumble over the edge into oblivion, her pussy pulsing around him as the pleasure runs through her body like lightning. The feeling of her throbbing around him is enough to throw him over the edge too and he holds her tight to his chest as his orgasm rips through him, his cock emptying deep inside her.

They lay there for a bit trying to catch their breath, both of them trembling. Eventually he loosens his grip on her and they relax. She lets him slip out of her and then rearranges to lay next to him in the crook of his arm. Her fingers run through his chest hair and he kisses her forehead.

“Hey, honey?” He turns a little to look down at her.

“Yeah?”

“What is this?” She lifts her arm when she feels his fingers on the skin of her ribcage. He lifts his head a little to try to see what he noticed when she was on top of him.

“It's a tattoo.”

“I didn't know women got tattoos.” She rolls her eyes a little.

“Janis Joplin has one.”

“What's it say?” He tries to read it, but he's at the wrong angle.

“‘To live would be an awfully big adventure.’ It's from-”

“Peter Pan.” She looks at him in awe.

“Yes, how did you-?”

“I read a lot, honey.” He runs his fingertips over the words softly. “You know, you've always reminded me of someone. Now I know who it is.”

“Who?”

“Tinkerbell.” She laughs and kisses his nose. He looks into her eyes and she stops laughing. The reality of the situation hits her like a ton of bricks and all of a sudden her eyes fill with tears. She squeezes them shut to try to keep the tears from falling and buries her face in his chest. “Hey, hey. What's wrong?”

He finds her chin and makes her look up at him, the tears sliding down her cheeks. She desperately searches for a way to express what she's feeling, but the words aren't there. Finally, she's able to choke out something.

“Nothing’s wrong. It's good. Isn't it? It can't be this good.” He softens and kisses her forehead, pulling her in close.

“Oh, Tink. It is good.” He looks down into her face, holding her cheek in his big hand. “It is good.”

Too good, he thinks as she nods and settles against him. Too good to last.

******

What will happen next?

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

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis x Jo #elvis presley x oc #Elvis Presley x Jo Bellamy

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hooked-on-elvis · 1 month ago

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"Thinking About You" (1973/1975)

Recorded on December 12, 1973 at Stax Studios, Memphis, Tennessee. Released on the album "Promised Land" on January 8, 1975 (Elvis' 40th birthday ♥).

MUSICIANS Guitar: James Burton, Johnny Christopher, Charlie Hodge. Bass: Norbert Putnam. Drums: Ronnie Tutt. Piano & Organ: David Briggs, Per-Erik Hallin. Vocals: Kathy Westmoreland, Mary (Jeannie) Greene, Mary Holladay, Susan Pilkington, Voice, J.D. Sumner & The Stamps. OVERDUBS Guitar: Dennis Linde, Alan Rush. Percussion: Rob Galbraith. Piano: Bobby Ogdin. Organ: Randy Cullers. Vocals: Ginger Holladay, Mary Holladay, Mary Cain.

youtube

LYRICS Songwriter: Tim Baty I woke up this morning, and I tried to call you, mmm But you weren't there and that put me in despair So I thought that maybe I could lose my mind In the countryside, so I went for a ride But I never stopped thinking about you Found myself wishing you were there Just to be with me, feel the breeze (feel the breeze) Sun didn't smile, I didn't care I decided to try just one more time To let you know I really love you so Before I arrived, I saw you go away With another guy, a tear filled my eye But I never stopped thinking about you Found myself wishing you were there Just to be with me, feel the breeze (feel the breeze) Sun didn't smile, I didn't care A long time has passed since that day I cried, mmm Life is fine, and I'm doin' fine When I'm at home, and I feel all alone Well, I think of you, I try to get a message through But I never stopped thinking about you Found myself wishing you were there Just to be with me, feel the breeze (feel the breeze) Sun didn't smile, I didn't care

#this song gives me a soft 90s 00s country music vibes... don't ask me why #it soothes me #i just love it #elvis presley #elvis history #elvis music #elvis songs #thinking about you #elvis albums #elvis records #promised land #1975 #elvis #70s elvis #elvis the king #Spotify #Youtube

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pxnsneverland · 2 months ago

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Heartbreak Hotel | austin!elvis x oc (part 1)

(gif source: theresalwaysep)

plot summary: Angel Casteel is a small town girl who lucked into working as a costume designer at a film studio. Unfortunately, her confidence in herself wavers as she is assigned to work with Elvis on his latest motion picture. Overcome by his star power at first, she slowly starts to realize there is a man behind the fame, a man she understands. But as they grow closer, the world grows more turbulent, especially Elvis's world. Will this Angel be able to save Elvis from himself and the people around him? Or will getting mixed up in his word prove to be her downfall as well?

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 2741

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 1: The Costumer's Dance with The King

As Angel Casteel strolled along the winding pathways of the bustling studio, her mind was consumed with a whirlwind of thoughts. Each step she took brought her closer to her latest assignment, igniting a sense of anticipation within her. The air was thick with creative energy, as fellow artists immersed themselves in their respective projects. The vibrant atmosphere seemed to fuel her imagination, as she pondered the task that lay ahead. She found herself transfixed, her gaze locked upon the delicate piece of paper that had been handed to her by the front office. A sense of apprehension coursed through her veins, causing her to momentarily freeze in her tracks. It was in that very moment that the realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, electrifying her every nerve. As fate would have it, she found herself bestowed with a remarkable opportunity - a chance to be a part of the mesmerizing world of Elvis Presley's latest motion picture. The sheer magnitude of this moment was not lost on me, for she was entrusted with the task of personally adorning the legendary icon with his costumes for the big screen. Angel found myself staring at the assignment card in her hands as if hoping to uncover some hidden mistake. As she carefully examined the photograph, her eyes were immediately drawn to the bold letters inscribed on the back. ANGEL CASTEEL. It was as if the air had been violently expelled from her lungs. In that instant, time seemed to stand still, as she struggled to regain her composure. In the grand tapestry of music history, there emerged a man whose brilliance outshone all others - Elvis Presley. With his magnetic charisma and unparalleled talent, he ascended to the pinnacle of stardom, becoming a celestial figure in the realm of entertainment. The world, captivated by his mesmerizing voice and electrifying performances, bestowed upon him the title of the biggest star to ever grace the stage. The weight of his authority hung heavy in the air. Angel knew that one wrong move, one ill-chosen word, could spell disaster for her future in this place. The thought of crossing him sent shivers down her spine. The consequences were clear - a swift and merciless termination, her dreams shattered in an instant. The disapproving whispers of her parents echoed in her mind. The prospect of facing her family, her head held low in defeat, was a bitter pill to swallow. It seemed as though the world was determined to prove her parents right about her ill-fated choice to forgo college and embark on an uncertain journey to the land of dreams. The allure of California, with its promises of opportunity and adventure, had once beckoned her like a siren's call. But now, as reality set in, the weight of her decision pressed heavily upon her conscience. She felt her body physically tremble at the mere notion of it.

With resolve hardening in her chest, Angel took a deep breath and forced her feet to move forward. She mustered the courage that had brought her from her small town to the heart of Hollywood, reminding herself of the countless nights spent sketching designs by the dim light of her old desk lamp, dreaming of a moment like this.

As she approached the opulent dressing room marked with Elvis Presley's name adorned in glittering gold, her pace slowed. Her hand hovered over the door handle, the cold metal feeling like a threshold to a new world. Taking another steadying breath, Angel pushed the door open.

The room was lavish, befitting a star of Elvis's magnitude. The air was scented with a mix of leather and aftershave, and the walls were lined with mirrors and photographs of famous movie scenes. At the center, seated in front of a vanity mirror, was Elvis himself, his back to her, engrossed in conversation with an old man who appeared to be his manager.

Angel cleared her throat softly, announcing her presence. Elvis turned around, his legendary smile warming the room instantly. “Hey there, darling. You must be the one behind my wardrobe for this film.”

Flustered but thrilled, I shook his outstretched hand, but was unable to make any words spill from my mouth. The old man Elvis had been talking to placed both hands on the top of his cane with a smile that seemed slightly forced. “She’s a pretty one, my boy. Don’t go getting yourself distracted here.”

Elvis glanced back at the man laughing. “Ah, don’t scare her, Colonel.” He turned back to Angel. “Don’t listen to nothin’ the Colonel says. He likes to make jokes. I’m Elvis and this is my manager Colonel Tom Parker. What’s your name, darlin’?”

Angel took a deep breath, her nerves momentarily calmed by the congeniality of Elvis's tone. "I'm Angel Casteel, Mr. Presley," she managed to say, her voice steadier than she felt.

Elvis chuckled softly. "Well, Angel…ain’t that just a fitting name for a beauty like you? And just call me Elvis. Mr. Presley is my Daddy. I ain’t that old yet.”

His laughter was infectious, and Angel found herself smiling, the tension easing from her shoulders.. “You don’t look old at all, Elvis.” His name felt foreign on her lips but she found a strange comfort in it.

“You’re bein’ too nice.” Elvis gestured towards a plush, velvet couch. "Come on over here and show me what you’ve got.”

Angel moved gracefully toward the couch, clutching the portfolio that contained all her carefully crafted designs. As she laid the sketches out on the low coffee table, her hands trembled slightly, betraying her nervous excitement.

Elvis leaned forward, his keen eyes scanning each design with an intensity that made Angel's heart skip a beat. He paused at one of the sketches, a sleek, black leather jacket paired with a high-collar, white silk shirt. "Now, this is something else," he remarked, his voice laced with genuine interest. "Tell me about this one."

Gathering her thoughts, Angel explained, "I wanted to combine traditional rock 'n' roll elements with a touch of modern flair.”

Elvis nodded appreciatively. "I like that. It’s got edge but still classy.”

"I was thinking something vibrant for the dance scenes," Angel said, pointing to a sketch of a shimmering gold jacket. "Something that catches the light and complements your dynamic movements."

Elvis picked up the sketch, his eyes lighting up. “You’ve got a real talent, Angel."

Flushed with pride and relief at his approval, Angel continued to show him other designs, each receiving thoughtful consideration and encouraging words from Elvis. Colonel Parker observed quietly from the side, occasionally interjecting with practical considerations about fabric choices and stage logistics.

As the afternoon wore on, the initial tension that had cocooned Angel upon her entrance gradually dissolved into a comfortable camaraderie. Elvis seemed genuinely interested in her thoughts and ideas, often asking for her opinion on other aspects of his wardrobe beyond the immediate needs of the film. It was a collaborative atmosphere that she had only dreamed of, one where her visions and suggestions were not only heard but respected.

“Angel, you’ve got an eye for this stuff,” Elvis said as he stood up to stretch his legs, “I think we’re gonna make a great team.”

Angel nodded enthusiastically. “I think so too.”

Elvis grinned, clapping her lightly on the shoulder. “Great! Let’s keep this momentum going. Maybe after we wrap up here, we could grab some dinner? There’s a little place not too far from here that makes the best Southern fried chicken you’ll ever taste.”

The casual invitation sent a thrill through Angel’s heart. Dinner with Elvis Presley? The very thought was almost too much to fathom. Hesitantly, she accepted. "That sounds wonderful, Elvis. I'd love to."

Elvis's smile broadened, lighting up his face with a boyish charm that few could resist. "Fantastic! It’s a date then," he said, a playful tone in his voice that made Angel's heart flutter with excitement.

Walking out of the dressing room together felt surreal to Angel. The movie crew, like a swarm of bees, descended upon him, their eager hands guiding him towards the sound stage to finish out the filming for the day. Silently, Angel trailed behind, her eyes fixed on him as he came to a halt. He engaged in conversation with the main actress, the one who portrayed the female lead and served as Elvis's love interest in the film. She stood before him, a vision of beauty. Her face adorned with carefully applied makeup, enhancing her features and accentuating her natural charm. Her luscious blond locks cascaded in perfect curls, framing her face with an air of elegance. Clad in a swimsuit that showcased her long, slender legs, she left little to the imagination. As he flashed a warm smile in her direction, Angel’s heart skipped a beat, and a sudden realization washed over her. It was a truth that had been lurking. Elvis only wanted to be kind. With her jet-black hair and eyes, the color of a moonlit sea, she was nowhere near attractive enough. Her skin was too pale, and her clothing was simply thrift shop finds that suited her well. In the vast expanse of the universe, their souls resided on separate solar systems, as distant from each other as the stars. With a heavy sigh escaping her lips, she trudged forward.

Angel's thoughts churned as she watched Elvis interact with the stunning actress. The way he laughed, the casual touch of his hand on her arm, it all seemed so effortless, so perfect. A pang of jealousy twisted in her stomach, not because she wanted Elvis for herself—she was too practical for such fantasies—but because she feared that their budding professional friendship might suffer from his divided attentions. The stark contrast between their worlds couldn't be more pronounced in her eyes; where he shone brightly, she felt dimmed by her own perceived ordinariness.

Yet, as she lingered by the edges of the bustling set, a soft hand touched her shoulder, startling her from her reverie. It was Elvis, who had extricated himself from the crowd and come over to find her. His smile was still present, but his eyes held a hint of concern. "Hey, you alright?" he asked gently.

Angel forced a smile, nodding unconvincingly. "Yes, just... overwhelmed," she managed to say, gesturing vaguely towards the chaos of the film set.

Elvis's expression softened, a mixture of understanding and empathy crossing his features. "It can get a bit much, huh?" he said, drawing her slightly away from the throng. "But you, Angel, you belong here just as much as anyone else. Look at me. Just a hillbilly who lucked into all this. Most of the time I don’t even really know what I’m doin’.”

His words, warm and sincere, were a balm to her jangled nerves. “You’re doing wonderfully, Elvis. Everyone can see that.” Angel’s voice was soft but firm, her belief in him evident.

Elvis shook his head, his hair brushing against his forehead. "Nah, it's all smoke and mirrors, darlin'.” He chuckled, then his gaze fixed more intently on her. "But you — you’ve got real talent, Angel. Don’t ever doubt that. This stuff,” he gestured broadly to the hubbub surrounding them, “It’s fleeting. But creating something? That’s forever.”

“Thank you, Elvis,” she said, her voice steadier now.

Elvis grinned, the light catching in his eyes in a way that made them sparkle mischievously. “Now, don’t let me keep you from shining today. We’ve got some more scenes to shoot, but how about we meet by the wardrobe when we wrap? Don’t forget about our dinner plans!”

“I won’t,” she promised, feeling the flutter of butterflies in her stomach at the thought of spending more time with him outside of work.

As Elvis headed back toward the set, Angel watched him go, her heart still racing from their interaction.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur for Angel. She busied herself with final adjustments to the costumes, her hands moving mechanically as her mind replayed the warmth in Elvis's voice and the sincere look in his eyes. The movie set, usually a place of overwhelming noise and activity, felt strangely muted to her ears, as if she was hearing it all from underwater.

As the hours ticked by, the set began to wind down from the day's hectic schedule. Crew members started cleaning up, actors removed makeup, and the buzz of activity slowly diminished into a quiet hum. Angel tidied up her workspace in the wardrobe department, folding fabrics and organizing her materials meticulously.

As promised, Elvis was waiting for her by the wardrobe racks when she arrived, his presence commanding even in such an ordinary setting. He was dressed casually now, in slacks and a simple button-up shirt that did nothing to hide his charismatic aura. "Ready to go?" he asked with an easy smile.

Angel nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Absolutely, I just need to grab my things," she replied as she reached for her jacket.

Walking out of the studio together, they found themselves stepping into the cool evening air. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow that seemed almost magical. As they approached Elvis's car, a vintage convertible that gleamed under the fading light, Angel couldn't help but feel like she was stepping into a scene from one of those glamorous old Hollywood films.

Elvis held the passenger door open for her, and as she slid into the soft leather seat, he flashed her a grin that could have melted hearts across continents. "Ever ridden in one of these before?" he asked as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

"No, I can't say I have," Angel replied, her voice slightly shaky with excitement.

Elvis chuckled as he started the engine, the sound rumbling softly beneath them. "Well, you're in for a treat," he said, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road. The wind began to pick up, sending Angel's hair fluttering around her face, and she laughed, feeling a surge of freedom she hadn't expected.

The drive was filled with a comfortable silence initially, as both seemed content to simply absorb the moment. The landscape blurred past them, a mix of city lights and twilight shadows painting the journey in hues of blues and oranges. Elvis finally broke the silence, his voice thoughtful. "You ever think you would be here in LA?" he asked, glancing her way.

Angel pondered the question, her fingers tracing the leather seam of the seat. “No. I grew up in a one-horse town in Alabama, workin’ as a waitress in the one of the two restaurants the town had. I always wanted somethin’ better, somethin’ different. So instead of savin’ up money to go to college, I saved up money to move to California. My parents thought I was crazy; my friends didn’t really believe in me either.”

“But here I am,” she continued, her voice lifting with a newfound strength. “And every day on that set, even with all its chaos and uncertainty, I’m grateful. Grateful for the chance to be part of something bigger than just serving coffee and pies back home.”

Elvis nodded, his expression a mixture of admiration and understanding. “That’s something we share, you know? I didn’t come from much either. Just a little shotgun house in Tupelo, Mississippi. Most folks thought I’d end up pumping gas or working in the fields.” He smiled softly, his eyes reflecting the streetlights as they passed.

"But here we are, right? Chasing dreams in the city of stars," he continued, his voice tinged with a hint of wonder.

Angel smiled, turning to look at him, the wind still playing with her hair. “Right. I never imagined I'd end up here, and definitely never thought I'd be riding alongside Elvis Presley." Her laugh was light, carefree.

Elvis's smile widened at her words. "I'm glad you're here with me, Angel. It feels like this was supposed to happen. Like it’s part of a bigger plan or somethin’." He turned his gaze back to the road, focusing on the weaving path of headlights before them.

The conversation drifted then to lighter topics — music, favorite movies, and anecdotes from their respective childhoods. Each story shared was a thread that seemed to weave them closer together, bridging the gap between their worlds with laughter and mutual understanding.

Stay tuned for part 2!! Click HERE to view!

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denimbex1986 · 11 months ago

Text

'If, in between big heaving sobs, you don’t leave All Of Us Strangers humming Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s The Power Of Love, then check your pulse: you too might also be a departed figure from the afterlife.

Writer-director Andrew Haigh’s hauntingly beautiful film understands the power of nostalgia, and how much of it is rooted in sound. “I think almost every single song that comes out was scripted," he recently told IndieWire. "I knew what that music was before I even started, and I made sure we got the rights to it before we started. Everything was sort of designed with that in mind. [The movie] is about the power of music, weirdly, to drag us back into the past.”

Here’s all the key needle drops from the film (watch out for some spoilers along the way):

Setting The Scene in Adam’s Flat – Fine Young Cannibals: Johnny Come Home

While stuck with writer’s block, Adam cues up this archetypal slice of ‘80s pop to transport himself back to the era. As Roland Gift’s falsetto cries out ‘Johnny/We’re sorry/Won’t you come on home’, is it this 1984 track that causes Adam to revisit his own home, and find out if his parents were also sorry for what happened in his childhood? Or is it Build by The Housemartins, that he also spins, that has him yearning for the past once again?

The Christmas Tree Decorating Scene – Pet Shop Boys: Always On My Mind

The family don’t yet know it – well, apart from Adam, that is – but this is the last time they’ll all be together, a picture perfect moment as they decorate the Christmas tree. As they do so, they start to sing along to the 1987 Pet Shop Boys cover of Elvis Presley’s Always On My Mind. The lyrics (Maybe I didn't hold you/All those lonely, lonely times) echo the repressed nature of some middle-England families of that age, but have an extra poignancy and subtext for Adam and his dad. It seems to be at points cathartic, as they sing what they could never express at the time.

The Nightclub Scene – Joe Smooth: Promised Land

Once voted number 4 in DJ Mag’s Top 100 Club Tunes, there’s no dance floor that this song can't fill. The song speaks of unity, of how there’s peace and comfort when we join forces with others – and whether it’s the song or just the bumps of ket Adam and Scott hoofed up in the club toilets, for one moment, Adam is happy, enjoying a transcendental moment among the sweaty, smiling faces in the crowd. If the film is all a dream, we hope that this is one event that actually came to pass for Adam in reality and not just the breakdown afterwards.

The Meltdown Scene – Blur: Death Of A Party

Used to great effect, the one song in the soundtrack from the ‘90s (1997 specifically, from the band’s self-titled album) is a slowed-down, twisted and distorted nightmare, as Adam either falls into a terrifying k-hole, or falls screaming further back into his delusional hallucinations. Perhaps both! Either way, the art-school band track perfectly captures that moment on a night out when it all gets a bit dark.

The End Scene – Frankie Goes To Hollywood: The Power Of Love

“I’ll protect you from the Hooded Claw,” Adam tells Harry in the final scene, “Keep the vampires from your door.” He is, of course, quoting from the Frankie Goes To Hollywood 1984 song, The Power Of Love. It’s not the first time that the song appears in the film, as Adam plays it earlier in the story, and it’s on the TV on the night Harry tries to drop in.

The song would also have extra significance for Adam, who, we learn, lost his parents in a car crash on Christmas Eve. Although not intentionally created as a Christmas song, when the nativity-theme video for the track was released, alongside the religious iconography for the single's artwork, it was placed in the Christmas canon forevermore and hit number one in the charts in 1984. Each new festive year, as Adam heard that song, it will have transported him back to that tragic Christmas as a child when he lost his parents.

It’s a total gut punch of a song to use in the ending minutes of the film, as the lyrics implore us to ‘make love your goal’. This ethos is reflected in both the ending of All Of Us Strangers and in the beginning of the music video, with light emanating from a giant star. Equally, the warm, fire-like lighting that Haigh bathed many of the romance scenes in seems to reference the lyrics ‘Flame on, burn desire/ Love with tongues of fire’, as Adam’s joy with a partner finally illuminates his dark world. Ultimately, as the pair fade into stars and the credits roll, the lyrics sing out: ‘Love is the light/scaring darkness away’.

Back in 2012, Frankie Goes to Hollywood frontman Holly Johnson spoke about his deep attachment to the song. “I always felt like The Power of Love was the record that would save me in this life," he told The Guardian. "There is a Biblical aspect to its spirituality and passion; the fact that love is the only thing that matters in the end.” A mantra that we hope Adam takes with him, wherever he floats off to in the ether.'

#Andrew Haigh #All of Us Strangers #Frankie Goes to Hollywood #The Power of Love #Blur #Death of a Party #Fine Young Cannibals #Johnny Come Home #Joe Smooth #Promised Land #Pet Shop Boys #Always on My Mind #Build #The Housemartins #Elvis Presley

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youaintnothinbuta · 5 months ago

Note

Could you write something about reader being Scotty’s cousin from Europe. Reader and Elvis start dating in secret ?

“Is everyone where you’re from this pretty?” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: you are Scotty’s cousin but develop an interest in Elvis, and the two of you date secretly.

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 2.5K OOPS I’m so sorry if you wanted it shorter </3

Warnings: none! Fluff!! Possible typos, sorry sometimes they’re hard to catch <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The summer air was thick as you stepped off the plane. It was your first time in the States, and you had been excited to see what it was all about, especially when Scotty, your cousin, invited you to stay with him in Memphis for the summer. You’d always been close to him, despite the distance between your homes— all the way across an ocean. He was five years your senior, so as an only child, he was the closest thing you had to an older brother. Growing up, you’d heard stories about life in America, but now you were about to experience it firsthand.

Scotty was waiting for you at the airport, his familiar smile breaking into a wide grin when he saw you. He looked exactly as you remembered him—tall, lanky, and his face hadn’t changed a bit since you’d seen him last.

“Well, well, look who finally made it across the pond!” he teased as he pulled you into a hug.

“Scotty!” you laughed, hugging him back tightly. “It’s so good to see you!”

After a short drive, you arrived at Scotty’s house, which was cozy yet full of character. You marveled at the differences between here and back home, from the architecture to the accents you heard in the neighborhood. Scotty had promised you before you came that you’d get to meet some of his friends, who were doing pretty well in the music business. He had been vague on the details, but you could sense he was excited to introduce you.

He let you take the afternoon to recover from your flight, just the two of you chatting and reminiscing in his living room. That evening, Scotty invited you to come along to a rehearsal with his band, where you’d finally meet these friends of his. When you arrived at the studio, it was buzzing with activity—people moving equipment, adjusting microphones, and tuning instruments. But all that chaos faded into the background when you caught sight of a figure you recognised from photographs and news stories. A figure you were rather fond of.

Elvis Presley.

Scotty had mentioned his name in passing, but you hadn’t realised that this was the same Elvis who was quickly becoming a sensation. He was laughing with some of the guys, his presence commanding attention even though he wasn’t trying to.

“Elvis!” Scotty called out, waving him over. Elvis turned, his smile broadening when he saw him, and he made his way over to the two of you.

“Scotty! Who’s this little lady?” Elvis asked, his eyes landing on you with a curious glint.

“This is my cousin, Y/N, fresh in from Europe,” Scotty said, placing a hand on your shoulder, gently. “She’s stayin’ with me for a bit.”

Elvis’ gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his smile widening. “Well, ain’t that somethin’? Welcome to Memphis.”

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your composure, but feeling a bit starstruck by his presence. “I’m already liking what I see.”

The rehearsal went on, and you found yourself fascinated not just by the music, but by the way Elvis moved and interacted with everyone. There was an undeniable energy about him, something magnetic that drew people in. And as the evening progressed, you noticed that he kept stealing glances your way, his eyes locking with yours every so often. It made your heart race, though you tried not to read too much into it.

When the session wrapped up, Scotty invited everyone back to his place for drinks. The group was lively, sharing stories and laughs, but you couldn’t help but notice that Elvis had gravitated towards you again. He was effortlessly charming, asking you about life in Europe and what you thought of the States so far.

“It’s different,” you admitted with a smile. “But in a good way. I think I could get used to it.”

“Well, I hope you do,” Elvis said, his tone more serious now, his gaze intense as he looked at you.

The night stretched on, and as people started to leave, you found yourself alone with Elvis in the kitchen. Scotty had gone outside to see some friends off, leaving you two in a quiet moment that felt oddly intimate.

“So tell me,” Elvis said, his voice low, “is everyone where you’re from this pretty?”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Elvis stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours as he leaned against the counter. “I don’t wanna make things complicated, with you bein’ Scotty’s family and all, but… I’d like to see ya again. Just the two of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the idea of dating Elvis Presley both thrilling and terrifying.

“Elvis,” you sighed, “Scotty and you are so close, and I don’t know if he’d want—“

“What do you want?” He interrupted, his hand now resting over yours. You inhaled sharply at the purposeful contact. Something about him made it impossible to say no. And you did really want to.

“I’d like that,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The kitchen door suddenly swung open. Scotty walked in, a broad smile on his face as he entered the room, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you and Elvis.

“Hey, what’re y’all doin’ in here?” Scotty asked, his tone light and playful.

Elvis immediately stepped back, putting some distance between the two of you. You could see the flash of nerves in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a casual grin.

“Oh, just chattin’,” Elvis said smoothly. “Y/N here was tellin’ me all about the music scene back home. We gotta tour there, man.”

Scotty nodded, “Oh, wouldn’t that be great? You gotta get the colonel on that, Elvis.”

“Hey,” Elvis suddenly said, his voice a bit louder as if trying to draw attention. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen, and tore some paper off a blank notepad magnetised to the fridge. “You mentioned earlier that one of your friends back home is a fan, right? Let me give you an autograph to take her.”

“Oh, right, thank you,” you replied, catching on quickly. You watched as Elvis scribbled something on the paper. He handed it to you with a small smile.

Elvis gave you one last look before he straightened up and flashed a charming smile at your cousin.

“Well, I should probably get goin’,” Elvis announced, stepping away from the counter. “It was very nice meeting you.”

“Alright, man,” Scotty said, clapping Elvis on the back. “Take care. We’ll see ya ‘round.”

He walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with Scotty. Your cousin turned to you, completely oblivious to the unspoken conversation that had just taken place.

“Glad you’re gettin’ along with everyone,” he said.

“Yeah, everyone is very nice,” you replied, your heart still racing.

Later that night, when you were alone in your room, you pulled out the piece of paper Elvis had given you. His number was scrawled beneath a hastily written message, “Keep this safe. - Elvis.”

A few days later, Scotty had invited you along to the studio again, excited to show you more of the work he was doing with the band.

You quickly spotted Elvis, sitting at the piano. His eyes flicked up as soon as you entered, locking with yours for a brief moment. A subtle smile played on his lips, and you could feel your heart skip a beat.

Scotty led you over to a group of the guys’ girlfriends who were gathered off to the side, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. They welcomed you with warm smiles, and soon you found yourself involved in their conversation, though you couldn’t help but keep glancing over at Elvis.

A couple of hours passed, and the rehearsal was winding down. Scotty walked over to you, wiping sweat from his brow. “Well, looks like we’re about done for the night. You ready to head out?”

Before you could respond, Elvis spoke up from across the room. “Hey, Scotty, how about letting her stay with the girls a bit longer? I can give her a ride home when she’s ready.”

Scotty looked at Elvis, a bit surprised by the offer. He then turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “You alright with that?”

You glanced over at Elvis, who was watching you intently, and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Scotty smiled and gave you a quick hug. “Alright, I’ll see you later then. Thanks, man,” he said, nodding to Elvis before heading out the door.

Once Scotty was gone, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The other musicians began packing up their gear, and the few remaining girlfriends started to trickle out, leaving you and Elvis with just a few others. Elvis walked over to you, his expression softer now that Scotty was gone.

“Wanna get outta here?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

You nodded, a mix of curiosity and excitement bubbling up inside you. “Sure.”

Elvis led you out of the studio, his hand lightly resting on the small of your back as he guided you to his car.

“I would take ya out,” Elvis said as he drove, “but I can’t be sure we won’t get pictured, and I can’t have you ending up in the papers. ‘Specially not without Scotty knowing.”

“I get it.” You said softly. Instead, he took you to his house. Elvis parked the car and walked around to open the door for you, his hand gently guiding you out.

Elvis pushed open the front door, and you were immediately greeted by the comforting smell of home-cooked food. The house was cozy and welcoming, it felt built from love. As you stepped inside, a woman’s voice called out from the other room.

“Elvis? Is that you, honey?”

“Yeah, Mama, it’s me,” Elvis replied, guiding you toward the living room.

You entered the room to find a woman and a man sitting on a couch, their faces lighting up when they saw Elvis. The woman, whom you quickly recognized as his mother, got up and walked over to you with a warm smile.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing!” she said, her voice full of warmth as she pulled you into a gentle hug. “I’m Gladys, and this here’s Vernon, Elvis’ daddy.”

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” you replied, feeling instantly at ease in their presence.

Vernon stood up, offering you a kind smile and a handshake. “Any friend of Elvis’ is welcome here.”

Elvis stood by, watching the interaction with a soft smile. “Mama, Daddy, this is Scotty’s cousin, Y/N. She’s visitin’ from Europe.”

Gladys’s eyes lit up with interest. “Well, how excitin’! You must have some stories to tell.”

Elvis gently guided you toward the couch, sitting down beside you. The living room was cozy, with soft lighting and a few of Elvis’s records scattered on a table nearby. After a few minutes of chatting with his parents, Gladys excused herself, offering to get the two of you something to drink, which you both declined. Vernon followed her, leaving you and Elvis alone in the living room. You spent the night talking, telling stories, getting to know each other, singing (or at least, on Elvis’ part) and just hanging out, but as the night continued, it was soon time to head back to Scotty’s house.

Gladys smiled, her eyes twinkling with affection. “You take care, honey. And you,” she held Elvis’ arm, “make sure she gets home safe?”

“Don’t worry, Mama,” Elvis assured her. “I got it.”

You said your goodbyes to his parents, taking a liking to them already. They were kind and welcoming, and you could see where Elvis got his warmth and charm.

As you approached Scotty’s house, Elvis slowed the car, pulling up a little way down the street, wanting a moment with you that wasn’t directly in front of Scotty’s property line. He cut the engine and turned to you, his gaze soft and contemplative.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, his voice low, almost as if he were afraid of breaking the quiet intimacy that had settled over you both.

You smiled, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “I had a wonderful time, Elvis. Thank you.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if considering something, then leaned in closer. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, one that made your heart race and your cheeks flush.

“I’ll figure somethin’ out,” he promised. “Somewhere we can go, I mean.”

You nodded, still a bit breathless from the kiss. “I can’t wait.”

With a final, tender look, Elvis gently squeezed your hand before turning back to the wheel. He pulled up in front of Scotty’s house and turned to you again.

With a sense of reluctance, you both got out of the car. Elvis walked around to your side, offering his arm as you approached the front door of Scotty’s house. The night air was cool, and the street was quiet, with only the soft chirping of crickets breaking the silence.

As you reached the front door, Elvis hesitated for a moment, then gently knocked on the door. You could tell he was trying to be respectful, even though he probably wanted nothing more than to steal another kiss before saying goodnight.

You stood beside him, your heart pounding as you waited for Scotty to answer. The door creaked open, and there was Scotty, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to recognition as he saw the two of you standing there together.

“Well, look who it is,” Scotty said with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Elvis nodded, a slightly sheepish smile on his face. “Didn’t wake you, did we?”

Scotty chuckled and shook his head. He stepped aside, holding the door open for you.

“Thanks for bringing her home, Elvis,” Scotty said, his tone friendly but with an underlying hint of curiosity. “Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

Elvis laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, she’s a good girl.”

You blushed slightly at the exchange, feeling the warmth in the room despite the teasing.

With one last, lingering glance, Elvis leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Goodnight, Y/N’.”

“Goodnight, Elvis,” you replied, your heart fluttering at the tenderness in his voice.

“Night, EP,” Scotty said, closing the door. You pulled your coat off, hanging it up, smiling as you caught a whiff of Elvis’ smell, realising some of his cologne had rubbed off onto you.

“Had a good time?” Scotty asked.

“Yeah, the girls are all lovely.” You reply, heading up the stairs to go to bed. You didn’t love lying to him, but you didn’t love the thought of not seeing Elvis even less.

—————

A/N: thank you so much for this request, I had so much fun writing it!! if you want part two where you tell Scotty/Scotty finds out, just drop another request and lmk how you want him to react!! (Happy, been knowing, surprised, upset, etc) <3

Also, just wanted to mention! As this was a request, I wanted to stay as true to what you asked for and so that’s why reader is from “Europe” and not any specific country but I promise you as an Aussie, I do know that Europe has tons of different diverse countries and cultures <3

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ameagrice · 5 months ago

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percy jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-five | when I say ‘hell’, you say ‘nah’

Being tied up and gagged sitting beside a barbecue spitting hot oil at you, was not on the agenda.

And yet you sighed, tied up to a barbecue. Across the porch, Nico sat the same way, bound to the railing. To your left, Grover mirrored him, tied up in the sun. He was sweating, and looked incredibly tired. You wished you could do something about the situation you got caught in, but the truth was, you couldn’t do a thing. Percy got you here, and only Percy could get you out.

“Lovely day!” Geryon flipped sausages. A bit of piping-hot oil landed on your cheek. You flinched, but he didn’t pay you any notice. “Lovely day…Eurytion, get those banners higher!”

Streamers and party balloons were tied up and taped to the windows by Eurytion, who you deducted to be a spineless man. He’d tied you all up at Geryon’s instructions and relaxed on the bench under the window, in the shade.

You tried desperately to think of a way you could contact anyone. Chiron, perhaps, who could advise you on what to do now that Percy had gotten you tied up and held hostage. Maybe even Sally Jackson, since she always knew what you could do. Her advice hadn’t failed you yet. But there were no water sources or reflective surfaces to make a rainbow, and you could reach your bag chucked out of the way down on the grass, anyway. Eurytion had been kind enough to put your dagger in your bag, rather than throwing it away. That was something.

Eurytion and Geryon ate barbecue food, put more on the grill, and ate that, too, until the sun had set relatively low. The whole time, you tried not to hyperventilate at the thought of Percy being eaten by monster horses. You tried not to think of the high possibility you’d be sold off like a piece in a thrift store. You tried not to, but your mind ran wild. Grover communicated with his eyes, probably as tired as you were after your struggle to get out of the ties. You hadn’t any idea what he was communicating, though—the sun beamed in your eyes.

You were beginning to think he wasn’t coming back at all, a hopeless sort of sadness setting in, when a desperate, boys voice rang out above the barbecue and Geryon’s terrible singing.

“Let them go!” Percy’s voice raged. He ran up the porch steps and rounded. He locked eyes with you, and then Grover and Nico. “I cleaned the stables. So let them go.” Relief lifted the weight off your shoulders, that Percy was still breathing.

Geryon lifted off his cooking apron and dumped it over the porch rail. “Did you, now? How’d you manage it, sonny?”

Breathing deeply, Percy explained. “The water from the river. I…controlled it. Cleared the stables out completely.”

Geryon nodded appreciatively. “Well, then, Mr. Genius, smart move. You could have at least poisoned the naiad that resides in there, but hey-ho.” The staticky radio on the bench next to Eurytion played an Elvis Presley song, cutting out here and there. Polk Salad Annie felt a little bit too upbeat for the unpredictable crowd.

“Let my friends go,” Percy seethed, not appreciating the insinuation that he hadn’t done enough. “We had a deal.”

Geryon chuckled. “See, the problem is, and I’ve been thinking about this very deeply; if I let your friends go, I won’t get paid. They’re staying.”

Your eyes widened so much you might have looked comical. Percy turned gray. “You. Promised.”

“Ah, but you didn’t have me swear on the River Styx, did you? Therefore, it was not binding. Always remember, Percy, when you’re conducting any business, you should always swear on the River Styx. A binding oath is worth everything, alrighty?”

A beat of silence hit as Percy drew his sword. Riptide reflected the gold of the sun, strong at your friend’s side. Orthus, standing at Grover’s head, growled deeply.

Geryon waved Percy off like he was a knat. “Eurytion, he’s annoying me. Kill him.”

Grover and yourself protested as much as you could with your mouth’s somewhat bound too. Geryon looked away and slung a packet of bacon on the grill. At the same time, Percy inched closer to you, angling Riptide to the ties on your ankles. Orthus pounced and snapped at him, forcing Percy to move away. Saliva dripped from the dog’s mouths in a disgusting puddle near your feet. You couldn’t help feeling a little angry at him. For the first time, Percy had truly put your life at risk, and his way out of it failed to be effective.

“Kill him yourself,” said Eurytion, crossing his arms loosely.

Raising his dark brows, Geryon uttered a calm, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me! You keep sending me to do your dirty work. You pick fights for no proper reason, and I’m tired of dying for you. You want the kid dead; kill him yourself.”

Tensely, the scene reminded you of a movie, like a cowboy facing down his enemy. You wanted to laugh, but honestly you felt a little too heat-exhausted and scared.

Geryon threw down the metal tongs. “How dare you defy me? I should be rid of you this instant!”

“And who’d look after your cattle then? Orthus, heel.” The dog left you, settling at Eurytion’s side.

“Whatever! I’ll deal with you later, after the boy’s gone.”

Then the scene

went

wild.

Geryon picked up two carving knives and threw them with such fury in Percy’s direction that they went haywire; he raised Riptide and deflected one away, over the rail, the other landed between Eurytion’s feet. Orthus barked aggressively, and Elvis Presley went crazy on the radio. Though obviously tired, and looking sweaty and pale (and in need of a shower after the stench of the stables), Percy went on the offence, raising Riptide and aiming right for Geryon’s head. He ducked and moved aside, causing the sword to go right through his middle chest. You looked away, praying to your mother you didn’t gag, because the way you were feeling in the sun, it would not be good. Geryon yelled in pain and thudded to the deck. You anticipated the familiar sound of crumbling to ashes and dust the way monsters usually do, but it didn’t happen.

“Nice try,” he growled. “Thing is, I obviously have three hearts. It’s the perfect backup!” You looked back just in time to witness him kick over the barbecue that had been boiling all day long. The metal grates fell away, as smoking coals spilled out. Being so close to it, one caught your cheek as it dropped, others burning around your feet. You screamed, and couldn’t stop it. Grover yanked uselessly at his bindings, while Orthus approached him in a low crawl. Elvis didn’t give a shit that you found yourself in a stressful situation. Eurytion stepped back down the porch steps. Nico looked visibly terrified. After all, he was only a kid.

Percy struck Geryon in the chest again, but he only laughed in his face. The dark-haired boy ran the sword through his stomach but it did absolutely nothing. Percy persevered, usually, so watching him take off inside the house was a kick to the stomach. He couldn’t leave you here, surely? Your cheek itched painfully from the burn of the coal and the oil and the sun, you were tired and hot and stressed. Sooner rather than later, you might explode.

Geryon launched the large barbecue fork through the open doorway, and it landed in something with a terrible clunk. “Your head’s gonna go there, Jackson, next to the bear!”

In the doorway, Percy appeared carrying a large bow and notched an arrow, shocking since he couldn’t so much as hit a target a metre away at camp. Geryon berated him verbally with cruel remarks and laughter, but Percy was not to be deterred. The monster didn’t need weapons to charge toward Percy, who dove sideways. Before he could react, Percy let the arrow fly. It shot straight through Geryon’s arm in a bloody mess, and right through his bodies to the other side, landing in the wall inside the house. The ranch grew still and quiet, Geryon turning. “You can’t shoot,” he struggled to talk. “They told me you can’t.” In a sickly shade of violent green, he fell to his knees heavily and promptly turned to ashes, grains as small as sand. Silently, all that remained was a pair of jeans, a huge shirt and boots.

Percy turned, dropping the bow to the deck, clattering. In his pocket Riptide had returned. He cut your mouth free first, careful of the stinging cheek, knowing somehow that freedom of speech was what you wanted now.

You coughed to clear your throat, and brilliant-gray met sea-green. “Glad you’re still breathing, Percy Jackson.”

He swallowed, cutting through the binding at your ankles. “Glad you’re still here, B.”

You collected your backpack and dug straight for a bottle of water, sipping slowly as Grover and Nico were released. Casting the bottle away into your bag, you stood to build up the barbecue again, and offered the last packs of burgers to the gods as a thanks for helping Percy actually get a good shot…and not somehow shooting you, instead (which he had nearly done, once before).

Nico said Eurytion should be tied up, and Grover agreed on the grounds that his dog had tried to kill you all. Murder wasn’t in your books, and you didn’t want to become a subject of interest, but the old man had done nothing while you cooked under the sun and was going to allow you to be handed over to Luke. So…something had to be done.

“Why don’t we just…” you thought, “I don’t know, actually. Could just tie him and make a run for it before he breaks free?”

“Or we could contact Chiron?” Suggested Grover. “Maybe he could do something about this?”

You waved him off. “Chiron would be too nice.”

Percy raised his brows. “And just tying some up is isn’t being too nice?”

“Alright! I’m just saying, murder is a bit far. He isn’t completely guilty. He didn’t really do anything to us.”

“Didn’t do anything for us, either,” retorted your friend. Percy flicked his hair from his face, sweaty and sun-kissed.

Nico gasped with an idea. “We could kill him, and then I’ll go and judge him in the Underworld.”

You clicked your fingers, pointing at Nico. “Ha ha, that’s not what we’re gonna do.”

“Look,” breathed Percy, pocketing Riptide-now-pen. He held out a hand to Eurytion as he spoke. “How long will Geryon take to reform and come back?”

“Couple hundred years,” the farmhand shrugged. “He ain’t one of those quick reformers.”

“Oh, thank you Zeus,” you mumbled. The sky rumbled, perfectly clear.

“You said you died for him in the past, didn’t you? How’d that happen?”

Eurytion explained his immortality, chosen way back when in his half-blood era. Percy stood beside you leaning on the fencing, raising his hand to shield his bright eyes from the blinding sun. In turn, his shadow blocked you, dimming the feel of burning on your face.

“You can change things ‘round here,” offered Percy, “be nice to the animals, not selling them. If we leave you here, you’ve got to stop trading with the Titans.”

Eurytion thought about it hard, and long. He sat silent, just pondering, until eventually he nodded. “I can live with that.”

“Hey, if you get the animals on your side, maybe when Geryon comes back, he’ll be working for you. Tables—turned.”

Eurytion hummed, chuckling low in his throat. “I wouldn’t mind that,” he grinned. He waved off in the distance. “Now go. I haven’t had peace and quiet in years. And the girl looks like she needs a hospital. Seriously, you look sick.”

“That’s rude.”

“You’re not gonna stop us?” Grover pushed away from his seat. You leaned your elbow on his shoulder.

“Hell no.”

Despite his calm, laidback demeanour, you couldn’t help feeling suspicious. Raising your bottle to your warm cheeks, cooling them a little, you asked the question stuck on your mind. “He said somebody paid for our safe passage. The only person I can think of down here who could have done so would be Hera. She met us in the maze. She gave us some not-so-helpful advice. You seen her anywhere?”

Eurytion shrugged. “I don’t know what he was talking about. And I ain’t seen any gods round here, lady.”

“What about Luke, and his army? Did you actually tell them we’re here?”

He scoffed with humour. “Did I hell. We were waiting until after the barbecue. So to answer your indirect question, missus, they don’t know about Mr. Nico.”

The boy himself glared right at you with such passion it almost physically burned. Two options were here and two only.

“You can come with us and get out of here,” you offered. “Or you can stay on the ranch for a while. Either way you’d be quite safe.”

Nico’s face warped to one of fury. His skinny fists clenched at his sides. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Safe? What do you know about being safe? You got my sister killed!”

You practically saw red. Shoving your bag into Percy’s fumbling arms, you leaned down to face Nico, who ground his teeth loudly. “Alright, you little shit—let’s get one thing straight before we go anywhere: I did not get your sister killed. I’ve thought long and hard about it, and ultimately I’ve decided that Bianca had her own brain, and her own free will. I didn’t make her do anything, and I didn’t push her. It was a tragic accident, okay?”

“Nico,” Percy stood beside you, laying a warm hand on your shoulder and urging you back from the kid who didn’t move. “She’s right. Please believe her. Believe us. None of this was anybody’s fault. Staying here would be fine, you don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to. But if Kronos finds out about you, he’ll take you, and he’ll do anything to get you on his side. It won’t be good, Nico, trust me.”

Nico turned his face away. “I’m not on anyone’s side. And I’m not scared of any of this.”

“You really should be. Bianca wouldn’t want any of this.”

He turned back. Nico’s eyes swam with tears, and you felt a little bad for popping off. “If you knew my sister, you know she’d want to come back! If you cared about her, you’d help me to bring her back.”

“A soul for a soul, right?”

“Yes!”

Percy looked troubled. “But if you didn’t want B, and you didn’t want me, then who?”

“I’m not explaining anything to either of you!” He exclaimed. When a tiny tear tread down his cheek, Nico raised his hand to wipe it away aggressively. “I’m going to bring her back. She’s my sister. I need to…I need her.” He rubbed his eyes viciously.

You deflated. Nico tried to look brave, and act older than he was, but his eyes were rimmed with red as he rubbed at them, and he choked on his tears. All of a sudden you wanted nothing more than to sit him down and talk to him, apologise for shouting when he was so upset. You wanted to kick yourself for acting impulsively, and shouting at a child as they cried. At fifteen years old, you should have known better. You reminded yourself terribly then of your father.

“Why don’t we ask Bianca what she wants?”

Nico’s face stilled. “I’ve tried,” he said miserably. “She won’t answer.”

“Try again,” shrugged Percy. A cold breeze shocked you, suddenly. In the distance, storm clouds were rolling in out of a perfectly sunny day…. “I have a feeling she’ll answer with me here.” He sounded very confident in that, and for what reason?

“Why would she?” Asked Nico.

“Because she’s been sending me messages,” Percy shifted on his feet at the sudden onslaught of confused looks. “I’m sure she has. She’s been warning me of what you’re doing. She wanted me to protect you.”

Nico wiped his eyes furiously. “That’s impossible.”

“Why is it?” Percy offered. “Besides, didn’t you say you’re not afraid? Let’s try it. We’ll need a lot of food, and a pit. You got anything like a grave around here?”

—

The grave happened to be dug especially by yourself and Grover. You never were one for gardening, and you find yourself slacking towards the end of the grave-digging.

“Come on,” urged Grover, sweaty and tired. “Just—we can do this. We’ve got this. Positive thinking. Deep breath in…”

You want to tell Grover that positive thinking won’t influence positive actions, because your limbs feel like lead. But together you finish the grave, and your friends pull you out of it. You waited until dark, the five of you and the dog, to call on the dead. With crates of root beer at the ready, Nico paced back and forth, anxious. You sat at the edge of the grave and dangled your legs in, exhausted beyond belief. Every now and then you had to kick away a bug. Grover sat on his heels, sleeping on the crates of root beer.

“Minos should be here by now!” Came Nico’s tiny voice, his dark eyes full of worry. The moon was high and full and bright. Percy’s infinite gray streak shone in the light, a patch among dark, dark hair. “It’s dark enough. It’s late enough…”

“Maybe he got lost,” suggested Percy. Nico glared furiously.

Percy crouched beside you and clapped you on the shoulder, digging his fingers in as a means to try and show you he was there. Maybe he knew you well enough by now to know you were getting irritated and agitated, waiting and tired and forcing your eyes to stay open.

Little Nico grew fed up himself, and wrenched a bottle of root beer from the crate, pouring it into the pit. Grover jerked away, and began helping. With food in a pile from the forgotten barbecue, Nico’s hands dashed out hungrily, and threw them into the pit too, chanting in Ancient Greek. To anyone else, the sudden chill of the night air and the aura that settled with Nico’s chanting might have been terrifying, or uncomfortable. You found the grim ordeal that was summoning the dead to be a rather interesting situation. Something satisfying in raising what once was. A reminder that things never truly died.

It didn’t take long for someone to come forward. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the right someone.

A dark shade of blue, a thin and whispery figure that mirrored who it was once, kneeled at the edge of the grave and reached in. The image somewhat shimmered, and when you looked hard enough, features showed through; deep-set eyes, hardened and somewhat angry; facial features showing crows feet around the eyes, dark brows…

“Minos!” Yelled Nico, suddenly on guard. He brought forth his sword, aimed at the ghost. “What are you doing?!”

“My apologies,” he said, though there wasn’t a hint of sorry in there. Slowly, the ghost’s image grew a bit more real, more colorful. “The sacrifice seemed too good to leave be. Almost in solid form—it’s nice to see myself again.”

“You are disrupting the Ritual! Leave, now!”

Minos paid him no mind. You’d long since jumped away from the edge of the grave, and joined Percy’s side, but something about the ghost ignited in you a want to take Nico’s sword and run the loser through with it. He turned to the two of you, running his eyes in a way that had you almost wretching.

“Percy Jackson!” He hummed. “My, my. The sons of Poseidon never seem to get any better.”

A rude and untrue comment, because you’d seen old images of Greek heroes, and Percy was the best by a million. Not that you’d say that out loud, or anything.

Percy had a lot more self-control than you did in the moment, because he simply took a deep breath, and said, “We’re looking for Bianca. Get lost.”

“Do you really believe Daedalus will help you?” Minos taunted, tilting his head. Nico had begun chanting again, kneeling at the edge of the pit with Grover kneeling dutifully at his side, taking care. “He cares nothing for you, half-bloods! You certainly cannot trust him. He’s cursed by the gods, and guilty of murder. You want somebody like that on your side?”

“Who did he kill?” Asked Percy.

“Don’t change the subject!” Minos spat, a confirmation that he was talking bull, really. “Stop hindering Nico. Don’t persuade him to abandon his goals!”

“We’re helping Nico,” you touched your dagger tucked away in the pocket of your pants. “He’s a child. Leave him alone.”

The ghost settled by Nico’s ear, leaning down to mutter. Nico visibly flinched and squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t listen to them, Nico. Let me protect you, not them. I’ll turn them to madness as I did the others. Just say the word.”

If Minos wasn’t already dead, you swore, you’d have killed him there and then.

“Was it you?” Barked Percy. “Did you hurt Chris Rodriguez?”

Minos rolled his eyes lazily, turning around to face Percy. He got in real close to his face; Percy’s arm shot out in front of you and urged you backwards, away from the vile ghost. “The maze is my property,” he hummed. Percy refused to back away. “Those who intrude on it deserve madness.”

Nico turned furious, whether at Minos’s lecturing, or his interrupting. Either way, he turned to the ghost and ran him through with his sword. “Go away, Minos! Leave us!” His voice turned sad and desperate, like he was tired of this too. “Bianca! Come on!”

It was heart-wrenching, watching Nico beg for his dead sister. It wasn’t fair.

But she’d heard him. Bianca came forth, a silvery wisp of light from the dark trees in the distance, growing closer. You didn’t feel wary of her, and Percy dropped his sword, Nico backed away to give her space, and Grover shuffled away from the edge as Bianca knelt to accept the offering in the pit. When she got to her feet, she was a solid hue of silvery-blue form, the image of herself in life. It was like the chatter grew quiet, the chaos turned silent, when Bianca smiled sadly at her brother. Nico had grown still, and pale.

He wasn’t the first one she spoke to, though. “Hello, Percy,” said Bianca, her voice like a lullaby. Her body flickered like the stars would, before it stilled.

“Bianca…” One look at Percy had you reaching for his hand, clasping it between both of yours. He was choked up. You didn’t blame him one bit—you hadn’t known Bianca well at all, and she’d killed herself in the process of saving you all, but even seeing her again like this had your throat burning. “I’m—I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for, Percy. I made my choice.” Somehow, she seemed older, calmer, and a whole lot more at peace, as if this didn’t phase her and her death was simply an article she’d read in a paper and let pass over her, at the back of her mind. “I don’t regret it, either.” Her eyes, a mirror of Nico’s own, fell on you. What did you look like to her, you wondered later? Holding back your own teary eyes the way Percy did.

She turned to face her brother quickly, and his name fell from her lips. She turned sad.

“Oh, Nico.” She raised a hand to cover her mouth. “You’ve gotten so tall.”

“Why didn’t you answer me any sooner!” He exclaimed. “I’ve been trying to find you for months!”

“I was hoping you’d give up, Nico. Please give up.”

Heartbroken, Nico reached for her, but his hand passed right through. “Give up?…I’d never!”

“I need you to do this, Nico. Trust Percy. Trust her.”

“No! She let you die! They’re not our friends!”

Bianca’s ghostly hand reached out to touch Nico’s cheek, but she fizzled out too quickly, and never made contact with him. “You must listen to me now, because this is important. Holding grudges is bad for children of Hades. It’s our fatal flaw, and you must forgive.”

“I can’t. I’ll never.”

Bianca struggled, exhaled. Her eyes betrayed every feeling in her body—anguish, anger, sadness. “Percy has been worried for you, Nico. I let him see what you were up to so that he could help you. You understand, don’t you?”

“It was you, then,” shuddered Percy. “You were sending me those messages.”

Bianca nodded softly. “I was.”

Nico demanded her attention. “No, listen!” He screamed and went to grab at her again. “Don’t help him! Help me! This isn’t fair!”

Bianca kneeled to be face-to-face with Nico. “You’re so close to the truth now, Nico. Believe me. It isn’t them you’re angry at; it’s me. And it’s okay to be angry, do you understand? You’re allowed to be upset—”

“No!” He heaved a great cry.

“You’re mad because I left you, to join the Hunters. And you’re so angry because I died and left you here. It wasn’t my intention, and I’m sorry.” Bianca’s voice turned thick with emotion. “But you must try to accept this, now. I cannot come back. And you must stay with them.” She nodded at you and Percy.

“I just want you back,” Nico sobbed. Bianca, on her knees, looked as if in a great deal of pain. She swallowed hard, and her voice was shaky.

“You can’t have that, Nico. This is how it has to be. And one day, we’ll be reunited again properly. Trust me. Believe in that. I’m never too far away, even when you can’t reach me. But for now, you have to let me go. Can you do that for me, Nico? You’re so strong…you’re so brave.” She turned suddenly to look over her shoulder at something the rest of you couldn’t see. “I must go now. Your powers are attracting unwanted attention. I have to go back.”

“Wait!” A terrible, pained cry ripped from Nico’s throat. “Please don’t go!” He heaved. “Please stay! Don’t leave me here!”

“I love you, Nico.”

You understand Bianca then, and her decision. It was why you dropped Percy’s warm hand and took up Nico’s cold, limp one. He heaved and cried, and didn’t protest when you lay your free hand on the side of his head, and gently pulled him to you. You raised your gaze from Nico’s teary, reddened eyes, squeezed tightly shut, to Bianca’s mirrored gaze. A single, shiny tear trailed down her translucent face, and you tried to convey one last message: Nico would not be alone.

She nodded slowly, and sniffled once. Getting to her feet, Bianca managed a sad smile, and lowered her eyes to Nico once more. He was the last thing she saw, as she trailed out of the mortal world for the final time. Bianca di Angelo simply faded away.

Just because she’d told him to trust you, didn’t mean he trusted you right away. That night, Nico sat out on the porch alone, talking to somebody that wasn’t there, crying to himself. You’d tried to talk to him, but had no luck. Nico demanded to be left alone, so you left him. When you returned two hours later, he’d fallen asleep on the bench, a hand tucked under his cheek. Percy dug out a blanket from one of the bedrooms upstairs, and you’d covered Nico over as the night air grew chilly. Your heart felt heavy, but the day’s trials didn’t prevent you from falling asleep quickly. The boys took the sofas downstairs, and you picked a spot at the bay window with a comforter and pillows. Sleep took you the second you laid down your head.

Your mother decided it was a good time to pop up and say hello, apparently.

You recognised the setting immediately as New York’s Public Library. Beyond the windows lining either two walls, the sky was black as could be, no stars or anything showing through. The lights and the slightly dusty chandeliers on the ceiling of the grand roof were golden, more yellow than usual, and the tables stretching the length of the hall were empty as could be, the dark stretch of tile down the middle aisle echoing your footsteps the further you walked.

At the end of the wall, standing beneath the clock small in the grand wall, was a tall lady, casual as could be in jeans and a pretty sweatshirt. This didn’t defer her from wearing a sword in a scabbard at her hip. Long, light hair was tied back in a practical bun, tight and secure. In her hands was a heavy book, and her brilliant gray eyes scanned it furiously. She didn’t look up from it until you’d paused at her side, peering up at the taller woman, admiring her. Strange, how the gods technically had no DNA, and yet you were her mirror image. The same jawline, the same nose, definitely the same eyes. She was pretty, really pretty, and she carried herself with confidence.

It would have been nice to be acknowledged, however similar you were.

“Mom?” You voiced into the quiet library air.

“Chapter eighteen of The Iliad—what do you know of it?”

You raise your eyebrows, curiously. “I don’t know off the top of my head, exactly. There’s a fight over Patroclus’s body, isn’t there? Real dramatic, like. They’re worried about going to fight the Trojans. Achilles worries about the outcome of Patroclus going out to join the fight.”

“Do you notice any similarities between this and our life?” She quips. Your mom huffed at something she read, and snapped the book shut. The cover was battered leather, the title almost rubbed away. It was old, but no dust rose from it.

You shrug, and feel somewhat nervous. “We’re history repeating itself?” You offer. “Is this to do with Bianca, last night? The fight over what happened to her, fighting over what she wanted for her end?”

Mom hummed, and threw the book over her shoulder. You had a sudden desire to catch it, but as you went to grab it, as it hit your hands, heavy as hell, it disappeared, as though she’d never thrown a thing. Your mother turned to watch you, bringing your brows together, spinning in a circle to look for this damn book like a stupid dog chasing its tail.

“The fight for life is always happening,” said mom, factually. “What happened to Bianca di Angelo was a negligible accident. She could have been saved.”

Frozen, you shakily exhaled. Gray met the mirror image.

“She could have been saved, but it was her destiny. You understand, don’t you, daughter? That what is meant to be is meant to be. So even though you could have saved her life one way or another, she was supposed to die.”

You scoff, and surprise yourself at the burning in your eyes. “People aren’t supposed to just die, mom. When their time comes, when they’re old, then sure. Not like this.”

“Was it not Bianca’s time? Who decides when it is right to die?”

“What’s the point of this?” You snap. “Did you bring me here just to take a dig at me?”

“Everybody has their time. I’m here to tell you to your friend that he should stop meddling in things. Leave things well alone.”

“Great advice. After we’ve sorted things. Bit late to the party.”

“Not entirely.” She tilted her head. “Before I go, just one thing—tell Percy Jackson to let the dead rest, when the time comes.”

“That’s ominous.”

“That’s life,” mom hummed. “I’ll let you go, now. The boy is trying to wake you up.”

When you come to, Percy is knelt beside you. Sunrise is in your eyes, and Nico is shouting downstairs. You gather your things, and prepare to make your way back into the maze.

—

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