#elvis x black reader

[ssinnerplazahotel]

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, elvis has a gun, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Note/: this is part five of a five part series and was intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions——all reader’s welcomed

“I can’t believe you’re going through my stuff~”

“I can’t believe you’re still adding numbers to your little whore book~”

“I wasn’t going to call him, Elvis, I just didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“The only man’s feelings you need to be concerned about hurting are mine.”

“Here you go again with this possessive, macho-man bullshit~”

“You’re the one who said you wouldn’t screw around on me.”

“Like you’ve been celibate since I’ve seen you last.”

“It’s been a month since you’ve returned my calls, birdie. If you let me come see you more often I wouldn't have to resort to~”

“Baby, what do you want me to do? I said I wasn’t going to fucking call him!”

Your voice echoed in the silence that followed and you slammed your purse down on the counter. Elvis glared at you, his eyes grazing over your body—vivisecting every aspect of your appearance.

“Who was here tonight?”

“No one~”

“I can tell.”

“How?”

“I can always tell.”

“…Your senses must be off.”

He thought for a moment. “Take off your dress.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take it off.”

“Why?”

“So I can check for myself.”

You waited for him to say something that suggested that he wasn’t serious. He only shrugged expectantly. You contemplated for a moment what you could get out of the situation.

He didn’t seem surprised when you reached back for the zipper of your dress, he only watched you very closely. You slipped the straps of your dress off your shoulders and his eyes followed the blue fabric of your dress as it pooled around your ankles—raking back up your body with an expression that can only be seen and not described. You wondered if he’d try and consume you if you got too close.

When he motioned for you you stepped out of your dress and walked over only wearing your heels.

He stepped around you and you couldn’t see him but you shivered when you felt him put his nose to the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, doing the same to the other side.

“Do you believe me now?”

“Almost.”

He made you face him and you couldn’t disguise your surprise when you saw him sink down onto one knee.

“Really?” You wondered in awe, too full of lust to actually be upset.

You moved to brace yourself on the counter and he kissed your hip. “You could just tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“If I’m gonna taste another man on you.”

“Oh, bunny.” You pouted, taking a handful of his hair into your fist. “You know you’re all the man I need.”

“Are you saying anything to make me happy?”

“All I want is to make you happy,” You said. “It’s what I live for.”

“You’re getting desperate.”

You shifted onto your other foot. “I don’t know how long you expect me to stand here waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“What do you think?”

There was an amused gleam in his eye. “Who said I wanted anything to do with you after the shit you pulled?”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Conducting an inspection.”

“Well can you conduct it a little faster?”

He proceeded to spread your legs further, using his fingers to get a clear view of your cunt. You thought you saw his mouth watered at the sight before he went for a taste. You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue traveling through your arousal before the contact came to a screeching halt.

You opened your eyes to find him standing and wiping his hands on the seat of his pants. “Elvis.”

“What? I’m done. I believe you.”

“You’re crossing the line.”

“I said I believe you~”

“If you don’t get me off tonight you’re going to regret it.”

He laughed. “That’s a threat I ain’t heard before.”

You shook your head, disguising the disappointment in your voice as a warning. “You gotta learn to choose your battles more wisely when it comes to me.”

“You don’t scare me.”

“I know. That’s the problem, bun.”

You knew the amusement behind his eyes would only last so long, so you let him have it.

“Good night.” You started to walk away, grabbing your purse but leaving your dress on the floor. “You can show yourself out, you know the way.”

“I planned on staying.”

“So?”

“So I’m staying.”

“To do what, cuddle?”

“I like that idea.”

“You must have me confused for one of those other little girls~”

“Oh, birdie~”

“I don’t fucking cuddle,” You snapped. “And I don’t play fair, so tell me if you really want to take it this far…this is me giving you a chance to correct yourself.”

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Then make the right decision.”

He stepped towards you, laughing when you retracted. “Don’t be like that.”

“I’m going to bed.”

When followed you to the bedroom he found you laying back stark naked in bed, holding your infamous notebook—your ‘whore book’ according to him. A pocket size, black leather notebook with enough numbers to fill a telephone directory.

“What’re you doing with that?” He wondered as he joined you.

You ignored him and picked the phone up. The first number you dialed rang out and you tried another.

“What are you trying to do?”

“Hi, is this Ray?”

Elvis scoffed in amusement. “Really?”

“Guess who…that’s right.” You held up a hand when Elvis neared you, warning him not to come any closer. “Did you miss me?”

He didn’t give up on his pursuit and tried to lean in next to the receiver to hear the voice on the other end.

“Stop,” You laughed at him. “…Nothing, baby, just…trying to scare off my dog. Yeah…he’s been a real bad boy lately. I’m thinking about taking him to the pound.”

Elvis kissed your neck when he was close enough, nibbling softly at your skin.

“Mhm…” Your movements faltered as you tried to push him away. “I was just laying here thinking of you and I thought it was late enough to call…she is? Well…be real quiet then…I just need to hear your voice for a minute.”

You switched the receiver to your other ear and turned onto your side to avoid Elvis’ touch.

“Remember what we talked about last time I saw you?” You asked Ray. “Y’know before I left…yeah. Tell me what you’d do again.”

“How long are you gonna keep this up?” Elvis asked.

You closed your eyes. “How bad do you think it’d be if she found out?”

“Birdie.”

“I know that’s what you want…I don’t know if I can stand it. But it hurt so good last time, I just want to do over and over~”

Elvis finally sat up and snatched you up, pulling the phone from your ear and putting it to his. “Hello?”

“Nadine?”

He groaned in disgust upon hearing Ray’s voice, slamming the phone on the hook. “I can’t believe you were really talkin to someone.”

You laughed and fell back on the pillows behind you.

“Where do you find those kinds of freaks? I-I mean—what was he even saying?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“You’re dirty, bun, but you’re not that dirty.” That seemed to really piss him off. “I signed an NDA when he gave me his number,” You quickly added. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone what we talk about.”

“You just call and talk each other’s rocks off, is that it?”

“I like the way you said than.”

“Is that what you do?”

“You’re acting like you’ve never heard of phone sex.”

“You get more and more interesting, it’s insane.”

“Are you going to block every call I make?”

“I’ll do that before I sit here and listen to you get off to some other man.”

“It could be you. You’re the one being insane.”

“Just because I won’t get you off doesn’t mean you can’t still get off.”

“What?”

“Get yourself off.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do~”

“Not with the phone.”

“How?”

“With me?”

“With you?”

“Yeah.” He focused on the way his fingers traced patterns into your hip instead of meeting your eyes—as if he was somehow timid about what he had been suggesting.

You took his chin and made him look at you. “Say it.”

“Use me to get yourself off.”

Your heart was suddenly between your legs. You would’ve had more shame if you’d been less desperate for his touch. You moved to straddle him and he instantly looked less nervous. “Is this what you want?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You rutted your bare cunt against the rough fabric of his slacks, sighing softly at the friction. “All you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to be so mean to me.”

“I wasn’t mean. You just can’t handle not getting your way.”

“Don’t make your power struggle into mine, E,” You said. “I only want one thing.”

“You don’t deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve anything,” You agreed. “Is that supposed to make me want it less?”

“Take it if you want it.”

“Give it to me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You kissed him and continued rutting against him through his slacks. You closed your eyes and focused intently on moving your hips enough to feel the perfect amount of stimulation on your clit. It was taxing work but you knew your body well enough to get something out of it. He moved to undo his belt but you stopped him.

“No.”

“Birdie.”

“Stay just like that, baby…fuck, I’m coming.”

Of the rare occasions that you had to fake an orgasm in your life, you’d never tried to be so convincing. You trembled through your ‘orgasm’ before attempting to move out of Elvis’ lap.

He stopped you. “Really?”

“Let me go.”

“Birdie, I swear.”

“I did what you said, E, I got myself off. You should be fucking happy~”

You released a surprised yelp when he sat up and suddenly forced you onto your back.

“No,” You complained as he pinned your arms by your head and bit your neck. “Fuck…it’s not fair.”

He let your arms go and positioned himself between your legs. “Get my cock inside you.”

“Now you want me?”

“I do whatever I want, birdie. That’s what I’m tryna get you to understand.”

“Not when it comes to me, you don’t~”

“Why are you still talking?”

“Because I do whatever I want.”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“Then shut up and get my cock inside you.”

You clenched your teeth but ultimately reached between the two of you and unbuckled his pants enough to free his cock.

“I hate you,” You whispered as you guided him inside of you. “I fucking hate you.”

It was a lie and he knew it, but he still let it rile him up. He growled deeply and rolled his hips into yours until you were tensing with pleasure. He was angry, and you felt it in every snap of his hips.

He didn’t care about making you come in that moment, he only cared about making you his. You broke the fastest when he had a point to prove.

Your soul had a way of separating from your body when he fucked you that way. There was nothing tactile holding you to the earth, only him. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move—you could only let him devour you.

You trembled and he held you down as he came. You felt the weight of his body on yours but it wasn’t enough to make you stop feeling like you were floating away.

“Birdie?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s wrong?”

You frowned and opened your eyes—you hadn’t realized they were closed. “N-Nothing, bunny, are you okay?”

“You don’t have to sit up~”

“I’ll get s-something to~”

“That's okay, honey, I’ll grab something,” He insisted. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine…” You swallowed. “A-Are you okay? Was that…I’m sorry~”

“It’s okay, baby…I’m fine.”

You nodded. “Good. Okay. That’s good.”

He nodded with you. “Stay right there, okay?”

You nodded.

He nodded with you.

“Okay?”

“Okay, bunny.”

*

When Jerry showed up it was always because there was a mess to be cleaned up that had absolutely nothing to do with him.

“What are you doing?”

“Jerry, don’t come to my door asking vague ass question~”

“It’s not a vague question~”

“I’m not in the mood for your shit~”

“You know where you’re supposed to be.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not supposed to be anywhere.”

Jerry crossed his arms and took a breath. “He said he’s not going on until he sees you.”

“You don’t actually believe that do you?”

“It’s only a few hours until the show and he’s not even dressed. He refused to do a sound check.”

“…He didn’t do sound check?”

“And he won’t let anyone in his dressing room.”

“Well…if he’s stupid enough to be that unprofessional then it’s his fault. Sue him, I don’t know.”

“What’s your problem? What do you want?”

“I want you to leave me alone.”

“What’d he do?” You fell silent. “Tell me, I’ll fix it.”

“We just…he got pissed at me for the skirt I wore to the party the other night.”

“Okay?”

“He got rid of all my clothes. I haven’t had anything to wear for the past two days.”

“Got rid of them how?”

“He threw all my luggage away. It’s gone and all he left me with is this.” You untied your robe to reveal your outfit.

“That’s…I mean, it’s not so bad.”

“You can’t even look at me.”

“Because it’s—I-I mean, you’re~”

“I look like a whore.”

“No, o-of course not…”

You closed the robe and tied it in a huff. “He’s trying to humiliate me by making me wear this and you know it.”

“It’s not as bad as some of the stuff you see in the city these days.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m not going.”

“I need you to. I know I ask a lot of you~”

“Every time you people put him in a shitty mood you look at me to fix it.”

“I know but this…this is different. It’s too important for him to fuck it up because he can’t get out of his head.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you to show up in your little outfit and stroke his egos if it means he’ll put on one hell of a show out there.”

You rolled your eyes. “I haven’t felt this degraded in years.”

“You’re beautiful,” Jerry said. “And you know who you are, we all do. But I need you to…I need you to be his girl for now.”

You contemplated his words. “Fine, Jer, alright. For you, I’ll play.”

“Play nice.”

“I’ll play nice.”

“Thank you. God, you’re saving my ass here, believe me.”

When you got there Elvis immediately dragged you into his dressing room and shut the door.

“Where the hell were you?”

“You’re really holding up an entire production because you can’t handle not getting your way for once?”

“You should’ve been in place when I asked you to be.”

“I’m here now.” You threw your hands. “Elvis Presley’s whore, present and accounted for.”

“It’s not any different than your get up last night. I thought you’d be happy.”

“Get dressed, Elvis. I’m going to find my seat~”

“You don’t get to leave until you tell me why you were so late.”

“I’m late because I just spent the last five hours having a nervous breakdown over this outfit.”

“Is that really why?”

“Just come right out and fucking say it~”

“I’m sick of you and Jerry disappearing~”

“You sent him to come get me! Are you joking?”

“I don’t trust you! I never have. Even today I didn’t expect you to show up.”

Then you understood why he’d been so adamant about seeing you before going through with the show—he thought you’d disappear and not show up for him.

“Damn you,” You sighed. You felt bad. “You can’t expect me to keep up with all your issues.”

“You weren’t going to come, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t. But luckily I worked up the courage to go outside with my ass hanging out~”

“As much as I needed you today and you weren’t even going to show~”

“I’m here, I came!”

“You were gonna screw me over!”

“It turns out I didn’t, so why does that matter?”

“What’d Jerry do to make you change your mind?”

“He didn’t do anything~”

“What’d he say?”

“He said it’d be my fault if this entire thing fell apart.”

“Did you believe him?”

“I told him that you weren’t enough of an idiot to ruin the production.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I think you would’ve been up on that stage regardless of if I showed up or not.”

He didn’t confirm or deny your statement. “…I think you look good in the outfit.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s exactly how I imagined it.”

“Well, I’m glad you like it. I only wore it to make you happy.”

“It’s making me very happy.”

You swallowed, pushing your pride aside and crossing the room to meet him where he was standing by the vanity.

“Do you want to know something?” You leaned back against the counter and he immediately turned to stand in front of you.

“What?”

“Even if all I had was a bath towel to wrap myself in, I was gonna be here tonight.”

“Really?”

“Really…I was already dressed when Jerry got there.”

“You were?”

You shrugged. “I knew you’d send someone eventually.”

“You’re always playing.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you would stop trying to beat me at my own game.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

“For what I said before a-and for hiding your luggage.”

“And for the outfit?”

“I had the outfit picked before you showed your ass last night.”

You were bewildered. "What made you choose this?”

“I knew I’d need you before the show. To help, y’know, clear my head.”

“So?”

“I thought we’d speed the process up a little if you wore something sexy for me.”

You punched his shoulder. “You’re such a sneaky bastard.”

He laughed. “How’s that sneaky?”

“You picked a fight last night knowing you were going to make me wear this?”

“I just wanted to get in your head.”

“Well, you did.”

“I already apologized.”

What an asshole. You loved him too much for your own good. “Is it working?”

“What?”

“The outfit. Is it speeding up the process?”

“I’ve been ready for you since I got word that Jerry went to get you.”

“Should we clear your head a little before you get dressed?”

“Please~” There was a knock on the door and suddenly a crew of people spilled in.

“We’re backed up and we need to get back on schedule.”

“Sorry, E.P. I tried to stop em.”

“You couldn’t try for five more minutes?”

“Elvis, baby, look at me.” You took his face between your hands and met his eyes. “You know what to do when you get out there, you’ve done it a million times before. You don’t need me to clear your head, you never had me before.”

“That’s not true.”

“How?”

“I-I’ve always had you. Since that night i-in Ohio.”

“Well…you wanna know what’s different about today and all those other times?”

“What?”

“When you look out there today, I’m gonna be right there in the front row cheering you on. That’s never happened before, has it?”

“No.”

“Hair and makeup in five.”

“Don’t look at them, look at me.” You waited until he met your eyes again. “You remember what to do?”

“Huh?”

“About our little problem?”

“Little problem?” He ribbed halfheartedly.

You pouted. “Come on, E, I’m trying to~”

“Alright, yeah, I know.”

“Just tuck it away for later.”

“That’s a lot easier said than done.”

“I love you, alright? I’ll meet you right back here whenever you get a break.”

“You love me?”

“Yes, baby, I love you so bad.”

His eyes lingered on your face for a moment. “I better let them have me.”

You smiled softly. “Just for a little while.”

He kissed you once more and pulled away, winking as you were escorted out of the room and to your seat. You noticed a few more stares than usual and heard a few comments about your skimpy outfit. Despite the initial urge you have to cringe, you stood tall and even pulled your plunging neckline further down to expose more of your cleavage. You enjoyed the shock factor more than anything.

When you saw Elvis again after the performance you were essentially a walking puddle of lust.

“What’d you think?”

All heads turned to you when you entered the room and you realized he was addressing you in front of a room full of people.

“O-Oh, it was good.”

“Just good?” He laughed, watching you squirm. “Tell me what you really think.”

“…It was amazing.”

He wasn’t the only one to laugh in response. You wanted to die.

"C’mere, honey,” He said, motioning for you to finish crossing the room. The others in the dressing room must’ve taken that as their cue to continue as usual. “You looked so damn good out there.“

“I-I loved it, really…the whole thing, it was so, uhm…" You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. “Sorry, I’m just so…”

He tried to meet your eyes. “Just so…what?”

“I can’t.”

“Tell me in my ear.” He looked amused as he made you lean all the way in to talk into his ear.

“I’ve never wanted to fuck a man so bad in my life.”

“Mhm?”

“When I s-saw you up there it’s like…the adrenaline—it was just such a-a rush seeing you up there, I think I…”

“Say it.”

“I-I think you made me come.”

The dressing room was immediately cleared and you couldn’t find it in your heart to be embarrassed as Elvis sat you atop his vanity and fucked you for all to hear.

“I-I just pressed my legs together and it just…it just happened.”

“Fuck, keep going.”

“You were s-so powerful up there…I saw all those people reaching for you a-and all I could think about is how much they wanted you. And how I wanted you just as bad. W-When you got down right there in front of me~”

“Yeah?”

“It just happened~”

“Fuck~”

“I pressed my legs together and it fucking radiated through my entire body~”

“I’m coming.”

Every inch of you was electric and you were buzzing with desperation. “Let me have it, bunny, please, I need it~”

“Don’t do that~”

“Come on my thighs, baby.”

You hugged him as he came, guiding his flaccid cock back inside directly after. You didn’t want to let him go.

“N-No~”

“Push back in.”

“Birdie, I-I~”

“Please, keep going. I need it.”

His hips stuttered away and he shuddered as he braced himself on the vanity.

You shook your head disapprovingly. “Don’t run from it. You can take it.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you can. Please, I’m gonna come.”

“Oh my god…”

You felt him twitch helplessly inside of you and before long he was fully hard again. With the adrenaline of the day’s events still running through his veins, he had the libido of a teenager. He reached between your legs to force you over the edge quicker, he didn’t last long the second time around—he never did.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as you came down.

“Nothing…why?”

“You’re cuddling me.”

You were aware that your arms were still around him but you denied it. “I am not.”

“What do you call this?”

“I’m just—I don’t know, hugging you…?”

“You never hug me.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, birdie.” He squeezed you tighter and you laughed. “I don’t want you to ever stop…I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Liar.”

“I do.”

He knew it was true; but he still asked: “Why?”

“A million reasons.” He fell silent and you imagined he was overthinking something about your response. You tried to get him out of his head before he got too lost. “Baby, my back hurts.”

“Oh, sorry.” You laughed as he carried you from the vanity to the couch.

“Get yourself together, E. I’m sure they’re gonna keep the ball rolling.”

“The first time you cuddle me and you want me to let you go?”

“You don’t have to. I would just hate for someone to walk in and catch you with your dick out.”

He laughed and moved to find something to clean the both of you up with.

*

You had always been eager to please—you enjoyed it. But he brought something new out of you.

You wanted to please him, at times it seemed like all you had to live for—more than that, however, you wanted him to love you. Sometimes, that meant altering the very fiber of your being, and the fact that you were willing to do so made you want to curl up and die.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing. Leave me alone.”

He kept pushing. “What’d I do?”

“Why do you think you did anything?”

“Because you’re being shitty.”

“I’m tired.”

“…I had a great night.”

“So did I.”

“So what happened between leaving Robbie’s and getting back here?”

“Nothing. I just want to go to sleep.”

“You weren’t tired before~”

“You’re badgering me~”

“I’m waiting for you to tell me what it is. I already know, so tell me.”

“You already know?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what you think you already know.”

“You’re trying to make me leave.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“It doesn’t seem like you want me to stay.”

You sighed. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“So?”

“So why would I make you leave when you’re going to leave on your own in a few hours?”

“…I’m so confused.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, you have to talk about it. That’s how you work shit out.”

You tried to hide your tears but he saw them before you turned onto your side.

“I don’t understand,” He said, placing a gentle hand on your thigh. “I’m not mad, little, I just want to understand.”

“…I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I hate feeling like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like I don’t want you to leave tomorrow.”

He fell silent for a moment and when he did speak again, he was laughing. “Aw, honey~”

“If you fucking laugh at me right now I’m going to scream~”

“I’m not,” He chuckled. “Come on, I-I just…I never heard you say something like that before.”

“It’s not funny,” You whispered. “I have a bad feeling…like I’ll die.”

“You always say that.” It was true, but the feeling you had was real.

“My chest hurts. You might as well shoot me in the back of the head when I’m not looking and put me out of my misery.”

“Birdie, come on~”

“I don’t do anything when you’re gone, I just lay here waiting for you to get back.”

“You don’t have to do that. You’ve always known how to have a good time.”

“You get mad at me when I go out.”

“That never stopped you before. You were M.I.A. all summer in Miami~”

“I was miserable in Miami.”

“You still went.”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t feel good when you aren’t here.”

“…This is so unlike you.” He laughed when you sat up suddenly and punched him in the arm. “Ah, alright, shit. You hit like a man.”

“You don’t make it any better by not calling, you asshole. I talk to your fucking friends more than I talk to you. It’s like exchanging urban legends.”

“Baby,” He drawled, taking you in his arms and forcing you to sit in his lap despite your protest. “Quit acting like a baby.”

“I wish you’d just…go away so I can start getting used to you not being here already.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes…but you’ll break my heart if you go.”

He tapped your chin and you met his eyes. “What if I’m gone when you wake up?”

You nodded, avoiding his eyes to hide the tears in your own.

“Don’t cry, honey. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t say that.” You hated when he said that.

“I’ll think about you every second and I’m gonna call every chance I get.”

You nodded.

“You can’t leave the phone off the hook all the time,” He said. “I only have so many chances to talk and shutting me out won’t make it any easier.”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“I’ll leave it on the hook.”

“…Do you wanna cuddle?”

You shook your head, cracking the smallest of smiles.

“Come on, pun’kin, let me hold ya,” He chided, making you laugh despite your tears. You met his eyes and brushed his hair from his forehead. He looked up at you with a fond smile.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing, you’re just…pretty when you cry.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

“You aren’t.”

“It’s so stupid.”

“Birdie~”

“I’m such a fucking~”

“Hey.” His stern tone cut you off. “Why are you going there?”

You tried to cover your face but he stopped you.

“It’s fine,” He insisted. “You’re just being a girl.”

“A stupid girl.”

He laughed.

“How long?” You didn’t want to ask, but not knowing was more torturous.

“It’s four weeks.”

“Are you gonna forget about me while you’re there?”

“No. I’m gonna talk to you every single day.”

“Jerry’s gonna talk to me every single day~”

“I’m not gonna forget about you. I want you to come out for the first show. We’re having a party the night before.”

“You want me there?”

“Of course. I need my girl there.”

“Won’t all your other girls be jealous?”

“Maybe, but I’m gonna be there with you.”

The phone rang and you both sat there listening until it rang out.

“Bunny?”

“Hm?”

“Put me to bed.”

He didn’t say anything as he stood and laid you down on your back. You didn’t let him go when he moved to pull away and he shifted on to his side to hold you.

Silence fell over the room, and you each tried not to anticipate the emptiness that the following weeks would bring.

*

One second you were telling Elvis that you were going to the kitchen for a drink and the next you were being forced against the counter by one of his drunk friends. You pushed him away easily at first, he wasn’t the first drunk man you had to ward off.

“Robbie, you’re drunk,” You had said. “You don’t even know what you’re doing right now.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing right now.”

“Stop.”

“Come on, just let me feel it a little.”

Gross. “Robbie, seriously, you’re being a sleeze.”

His actions persisted and just when you were about to apply the necessary force, it entered the room.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“E-Elvis.” You pushed him away once and for all but the damage was done.

“E.P., I know what you’re thinking~”

“Rob, man, you got about five more seconds to get out of my sight before I decide to ruin everyone’s night by snapping your fucking neck…five.”

He scrambled to leave, adjusting his pants as he went. You sighed when he was gone but your relief was too soon.

“Really?”

You looked at Elvis. “What?”

“Robbie?”

You were confused. “What about him?”

He scoffed, astonished. “You were gonna screw him.”

“Is that what you think?”

“What else am I supposed to think after what I just saw?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, E. He’s out of his mind right now, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“Sure, but you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You went back to fixing your drink. “What do you want me to say?”

“Wow,” He laughed, but it didn’t seem to hold any humor. “You really have no shame.”

“What good is shame?”

He fell silent and if you would’ve turned your head you would’ve seen the livid expression on his face. But you were oblivious and by the time you looked he was already storming out of the kitchen.

“Where’d Elvis go?” You wondered as you returned to your seat at the dinner table.

“He went upstairs,” Charlie said, handing your hand of cards back. “I got back ahead. You’re almost even with Joey.”

“What’s that mean?”

“You see this?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a good thing.”

You nodded but you didn’t care. “You finish, baby, I’m gonna go check on Elvis.”

“Alright.”

“Bet’s still mine if I win.”

“Alright, alright.”

When you got up to the bedroom you found him there.

“Baby?” You wondered. “Why’d you come up here? What’s…why do you have that?”

“I need it…”

“Why?”

He shrugged and checked the pistol’s clip. “I think somebody deserves it.”

You felt frozen. “…Who?”

“That’s what I was just trying to decide.” He stalked over to you slowly. “Is it Robbie? Or is it…”

You wanted to back away but you couldn’t. He brought the gun between you and held its cold barrel to your chin.

“You?”

You shuddered. “P-Please, d-don’t do that~”

“‘P-Please, d-don’t do that—’ Why? Why shouldn’t I?” He pulled back the hammer of the pistol and you couldn’t think. He was demanding a legitimate reason but all you could do was stammer in response.

“I-I’m~ I don’t—Elvis~”

“You think I’m just gonna let you screw around and do nothing about it?”

“N-No~”

“Maybe back then but not anymore~”

“Elvis~”

“I’ll do something about it now!”

“P-Please—”

The gun fired and suddenly the room was silent. Not because he had stopped yelling. No, he was still doing that. He was still fuming, his arms were still waving wildly as he cursed you—you feared the veins in his neck would explode if he screamed any louder. You felt shot, you were sure you were, but no. He’d pointed the gun upwards just as he squeezed the trigger. You weren’t hit but all the air had left your lungs and it felt like you had been.

You didn’t notice it before but you began to hear another voice. It was your own and it was repeating something, quietly at first but eventually it was as loud as everything else.

“Stop. Stop.” Stop. You were begging him but he wasn’t listening. You covered your ears and let yourself sink onto the floor. It was too much.

“Don’t curl up now,” He shouted, trying to drag you back up by your arm. “You weren’t that pitiful when you were getting ready to screw my fucking friend~”

“It wasn’t like that~”

“What was it like?” He snapped, letting you fall to the ground. “What were you doing in there?”

“I didn’t know he followed me~”

“I saw you talkin to him all night, so just shut up, alright? Nothing you say matters, it’s all lies!”

He threw the pistol across the room and you thought it’d hit the wall and go off, injuring or killing one of you. It clattered to the ground without discharging and you started to cry. You thought you’d been crying already, but you would’ve noticed the way your tears made everything blurry. Everything wasn’t so blurry before.

“Now you want to sit there crying like you’re so fucking innocent.” He scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t know why I waste my time thinking you give a shit about anyone but yourself. I’d call you a whore but whores screw people for money, you’re different. You have some other twisted reason. You’re on this constant and never ending search for validation. It has to be exhausting. And you’ll get it just about anywhere you can find it—even if it means screwing the man that raised you.”

That was it. That was the one.

“You spell it out for me time and time again and I still choose to ignore it. You’ve been telling me this whole time that this is who you are. You had me fooled into thinking you changed but you know what? Nope. Not anymore, you’re done.” He was still saying something as he straightened his clothes and prepared to storm out of the room. “I want you gone when I get back. I don’t care where you go—go to hell. Actually, no, go home with fucking Robbie. Do you want to go home with fucking Robbie?”

The door slammed shut after him and you were left in silence. Your ears were still ringing and even though you couldn’t feel your heart beating you could hear it as loudly as the ringing. It was too fast. If it didn’t slow down you worried you might have a heart attack. The door opened again and you wondered if Jerry had been waiting outside or if he’d come up when he heard the gun.

“What happened?”

You shook your head and looked down to hide your eyes.

“Come on,” He encouraged, stooping down to help you up. “Forget about him, don’t let him ruin your night.”

“…I need you to get away from me, Jerry.”

“I don’t want you to~”

“I need you to get away from me right now, Jerry, please.”

He sighed and stood to leave. “Y’all are gonna be fine tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Y’all are gonna be fine tomorrow. So can’t y’all be fine now?”

You were crying again. “I don’t think he wants anything to do with me.”

“You know that’s not true~”

“You didn’t hear what he said.”

“What’d he say?”

You must’ve leaned to the right, and you must’ve kept leaning because eventually you were laying on your side. You curled yourself up and stared at your distorted reflection in Jerry’s shiny shoes.

“What are you doing?” He wondered.

“I like your shoes.”

“What?”

“Your shoes…I like them.”

He didn’t say anything—you imagined him frowning but you didn’t check. You only stared at yourself.

“Come back downstairs.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because…I want everyone to think he killed me.”

“Why would you want that?” He stepped back and you were gone.

“No,” You protested, reaching for the shoe.

“Stop,” He complained, pulling his foot away. “What’s that matter with you?”

“Jerry, please.” You looked up at him. “Give me the shoe.”

He stared at you for a long time. “Why?”

“Because I like it.”

“Will you come back downstairs if I do?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

He turned to leave and you were crying again.

“You’re all the same,” You shouted as he left. “Heartless. Fucking cold and heartless people who don’t know how to care about anything that doesn’t directly benefit them. You’re all addicted to instant fucking gratification—” The door slammed shut and you were alone. You relaxed onto the floor and stared into space. You wanted to fly away but you couldn’t move.

When Elvis returned to his room you weren’t sure how much time had passed.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he walked past you into the bathroom. It didn’t seem like he cared. “Jerry said he talked to you. What’d he say?”

You couldn’t speak. You could but you didn’t. You were silent.

“Birdie?” He walked out of the bathroom. “I asked what he said.”

“…nothing.”

“He didn’t say anything?”

“No.”

You heard him shuffle around some more before climbing into bed. “Why’re you still here if he didn’t say anything?”

You were silent.

“What are you doing down there?” He asked. “Come get in the bed.”

You weren’t sure if you were the lunatic or if he was. Maybe it had been more time than you realized. Maybe it had been more than a night—maybe it had been years again.

“Birdie,” He repeated. “Are you ignoring me?”

“No.”

“Get in the bed.”

“No.”

“I’ll come down there then.”

“No.”

“No?” He wondered. “You don’t want me to?”

“No.”

“Have you been down there this whole time?” There was more shuffling and you felt him near you before his sock clad feet came into view. “How long have you been laying here?”

“I can’t move.”

“Why?”

You shrugged. “…Do they think I’m dead?”

“No.” You could hear the frown in his voice.

“Damn it…”

He got down onto the ground and laid on his back next to you. “Did you ask Jerry for his shoes?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I could see myself in them.”

“So?”

“I never see myself in anything.”

He chuckled and you opened your eyes.

“Did you laugh?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“What?”

“How can you laugh right now?”

His smile faded until he was serious again. “Why’d you stay?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t?”

“No…”

He looked up at the ceiling. “I know I lost my temper the other night.”

You closed your eyes and imagined you were in Jerry’s shoes again.

“I couldn’t handle seeing you and Robbie. Everybody knows you’re my girl—can you imagine how it made me feel to be humiliated like that? Even if you didn’t screw him you had every intention. That’s what made me snap.”

“…He followed me to the kitchen.”

“I didn’t see that. All I saw was~”

“Him forcing himself onto me~”

“It didn’t look like~”

“That’s what it was.”

He sighed. “I believe you, alright, I’m just telling you what I thought at the time. It looked like you wanted him to…”

Your mind finally processed his words “the other night” and you were suddenly too consumed with figuring out what day it was to listen to him rattling off his list of reasons why he did and said the things he did and said but it didn’t matter anymore because he already did and said them and you were already hurt.

“I don’t want you to think I meant anything I said, I didn’t. I don’t even remember half the shit I said I was so pissed off,” He was saying when you started listening again. “I-I’m glad you stayed. I don’t want you to leave. I didn’t see you downstairs and I thought you had went off somewhere.”

You were silent.

“I’m sorry,” He finally said. “I-I didn’t mean to get so upset.”

“…It’s okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you look at me and say it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I’m scared.”

“Of me?”

“Yes.”

Now he was silent. You wanted him to say something. You couldn’t imagine his expression so you had to open your eyes—you wish you hadn’t because then you wouldn’t have had to see the utter devastation behind his eyes.

“I’m sorry…” His words trailed off like it hurt him to speak.

“I thought you were going to kill me.”

“I wasn’t~”

“You made me feel like you were.”

He apologized to the ceiling again and you told him that it was okay.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes. I accept your apology.”

“But you don’t forgive me~”

“I do forgive you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know….” You wish you knew.

“Are you going to leave?” He wondered.

“I don’t want to.”

“So?”

“I’m not going to.” He didn’t seem relieved.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, bunny.”

He turned onto his side and put his arm over your waist. “I’m gonna make it up to you.”

You spent another long night on the floor, except this time he was there and it didn’t feel like the last time you were going to see him again anymore. And no matter how much he complained about it being uncomfortable, he didn’t leave.

*

Shoes. Shoes. Shoes. Every shoe. The shiniest shoes. Every shiny shoe that he could find.

Were you content?

Abso-fucking-lutely.

“You aren’t serious,” You laughed, jumping into his arms. “You’re a lunatic.”

“I told you I’d make it up to you.” He smiled. “I went after Jerry, but man he really loves his shoes.”

“Shut up,” You said, pushing him away and going over to where the shoes had been laid out across the den.

“They’re custom, look.” He took a pair of silver kitten boots from one of the boxes. “You should definitely be able to see yourself in these.”

You held them up and they glittered under the light. “I can see both of us.”

He kissed your cheek and you smiled. “Are you happy?”

“Yes.” You put the boots down and turned to hug him. “You did good, bun.”

“I want you to pick a few pairs to take with you on the road. I’ll send the rest back to LA.”

“On the road?”

“I want you here more.”

“Really? B-But the colonel said~”

“I’ll deal with him,” He said dismissively. “If you can’t tell, I miss you when you’re not here.”

You felt an odd sense of comfort in knowing that.

“Okay.”

“Come on, little bit. I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired.”

“I’m always awake. I don’t sleep when you’re gone, I'm like the walking dead.”

“I don’t like hearing that.”

“It’s true.”

“I’d see you more if you’d tell the Colonel to slow it down~”

“Hey, hey, hey~”

“‘Hey, hey, hey’ yourself,” You said. “I can look at you and tell you’re exhausted.”

“Then let's go to bed. I’m not in the mood to talk about work.”

“Fine. Let’s put my baby to bed.”

You chose the shiniest shoes out of the bunch to wear to the show the next night. You watched the entire thing from the wings and it was everything you expected it to be and more. Something changed in him that night and he wasn’t the same man walking off stage that he was walking on.

“What’d you think?”

“It was…everything.”

“Yeah?”

“You were everything. You were amazing.”

He took your face in his hands. “D’you think they thought so?”

“Yes, baby,” You said, bracing yourself on his chest as you stood up on your toes. “You were electric, we could all feel it.”

“Let’s go, E.P., they wanna talk to ya.”

“I’m heading that way,” Elvis called back before kissing you. “I gotta let ‘em have me for a little bit but I’ll see upstairs. Find Jerry, he’ll show you how to get back from here.”

“Okay, bun. You did great tonight,” You said, letting him go. “I love you.”

“I love you…” He hesitated before he walked away. “I’ll see you tonight?”

You nodded and smiled encouragingly for him to go. You tried not to let it show but you think he saw it anyway that he wasn’t going to be seeing you again.

Jerry showed up as soon as he was gone. “Ready?”

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

He took you to the door backstage that led to the street outside. The rain had picked up but you were glad it hadn’t seemed to put a damper on anyone’s night. “Are you sure you’re gonna be alright?”

“Yes, Jerry. If I get to the airport in time I’ll get back to LA before it's even midnight.”

Jerry held his umbrella over your head as he checked the trunk for your luggage. “I don’t know why you have to go right now.”

“I have to,” You said. “It’s better this way, baby, trust me.”

“How?”

“He’s busy. He’s distracted. He feels really good about himself right now.” It felt like you were trying to convince yourself more than Jerry. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to take his mind off it anyway.”

“Of course not~”

“Just make sure she looks nothing like me.” You opened the door and prepared to climb into the car. “I love you, Jerry, you’re the best. Get out of this rain.”

“What am I supposed to tell him?”

“You never saw me.” You gave the driver the go ahead as soon as you shut the door and the car lurched into motion.

“Where’s your flight headed?” He wondered.

“Los Angeles,” You told him. You didn’t disguise the sadness in your voice as well as you had hoped.

“What’s in Los Angeles?” He saw the tears in your eyes and he ignored them. He was trying to take your mind off of what was troubling you but he was only bringing the issue to the forefront of your attention.

“Nothing, I’m just…” You couldn’t think of anything interesting to say—you had no bizarre ideas or truths to bend. You couldn’t think of anything but the look Elvis would get on his face when Jerry told him he hadn’t seen you. “It’s just me.”

He must’ve decided that you were too pitiful to cheer up because he didn’t say anything else.

You leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes.

“It’s only four weeks,” You repeated to yourself in an effort to stop your tears from falling. You couldn’t see out the window past the rain, you were glad that you couldn’t. It meant that you couldn’t look out and watch the building—the entire building, as if it was somehow a giant, looming embodiment of him—disappear into the distance.

It also meant that you couldn’t see the semi truck in the lane to your right hydroplane and spin out of control. If you’d seen that, maybe then you could have moved away from the window. Maybe then it wouldn’t have hit so hard, so fast. Maybe you could have even braced yourself for the impact, but no. It didn’t happen like that.

Instead, you were talking yourself out of a breakdown one minute and the next there was chaos and you couldn’t see.

Although it was black and you couldn’t feel anything, you saw his eyes—his deep blue, grief-strickened eyes. There they were, so rich and full that you could taste them.

And then there was nothing.

❦ fin. ❦

[beeandheroddobsessions]

Bloody Sacrifices

Summary: Reader reminisces about how she ended up with Elvis

TW: Cheating, angst, I think that’s it!

A/N: I know I know, where tf has bee been? Under a rock, sorry for leaving so suddenly but that’s just the way things go, I really did try to get back into my groove, with little success. But between school, and getting married and work, I had no time or really the patience to let myself be creative. And then, Eureka! An idea struck and my drafted papers that had been waiting on me finally started to get finished. Again, really sorry for the cliffhangers and such!

-Signed, Bee💕

Mrs. Presley,

What a title. Sometimes, it’s hard to think of life without him. He’s not perfect, no man is, but he’s pretty damn close.

Often time, you find yourself thinking about how you got this far. Married, comfortable, committed, with a beautiful child and very little worries.

The day had been heavy, you hadn’t had the greatest time. The boy you swore your heart to decided that for your third anniversary, he would treat another beauty to the dinner you reserved. Under his name, like some fool.

When the attendants opened the doors, you passed under the threshold, heart swelling. Something made you so certain it would be the day; the day he’d get down on one knee with glassy eyes and a nervous tongue and fumble over those four little words that would change your life forever.

When you asked the hostess about your table, she was quick to inform you that, the table had already been sat. You thought, for a moment, that he had beat you here. This made you excited, thinking he was really taking the initiative. So you thanked the woman and made your way around the restaurant, searching for your dream boat.

It didn’t take you long to spot him, knowing that haircut just about anywhere. Actually, every minute detail, down to how his collar hugged his neck was logged in your brain. Up until this point, you had spent an unhealthy amount of time…studying, perfecting.

So you approached the table, carefully as to not give away how excited you really were. As you got closer, hoping to see him fidgeting with his tie in front of an empty seat, you could feel the butterflies churn in your stomach. As fate would have it, things don’t always go as planned. Not at all actually.

Instead, you found a pretty blonde woman with tears in her eyes adoring an exceptional rock, and that boy with his head held high, with a beaming smile, and chest puffed out. Made you sick.

To this day, you aren’t sure what really drove you to do what you did that night.

Maybe, it was the way you cleaned after him like a mother would a toddler, or the way he expected dinner on the table before he returned at five thirty or all hell broke loose. It might’ve even been having to keep everything spectacularly clean. Down to his damn underwear.

Whatever it was, the camels back was broken and there was no reason for you to hold face now. You kept the tears at bay, gracefully walking over, stopping in front of the lovely couple.

Wouldn’t you know. As soon as the man saw you he did start to fidget with that tie. That same damned tie you bought for his birthday. You’d never seen him wear it but you’d guessed that day was as good a time as any.

And her. When you really looked at her, you picked her apart in less than 20 seconds. Bottle blonde, not natural, lipstick that wasn’t her color, makeup that didn’t compliment her, the dress she wore did nothing for her figure. All the things he swore not to like, sat right in front of you. You couldn’t believe it.

With a painfully fake smile you looked between the two. You had let out a quick breath in preparation for what you were about to say. It was quick, and sweet, no malice detected.

“Engaged?”

That was it. That was all you had asked.

Withought missing a beat she nodded her head

“After two years, I wasn’t even expecting this! At a place this nice, on our anniversary too. He really is so thoughtful. And the ring, ugh—”

She continued to ramble, but all you could hear was “Two years” and “our anniversary”

She had no clue about you. None.

And, for two of the three years, this man had the wool pulled over your eyes. Fresh out of high school, You had been walking blindly behind him and never noticed.

At least that’s what you told yourself in the moment.

But, you did know. You just wanted to deny your ignorance in that moment. You couldn’t deny the late nights, foreign perfume, and lack of affection though. Not even if you wanted to.

Till the very end though, you kept face.

“How lovely, I hope… I—, wish you both the very best.”

The woman gave a quick false smile and said “thank you, but we are trying to celebrate.”

You nodded your head and returned the same smile. You timber spinning on your feet and gearing up to make a beeline for the door. You really couldn’t help yourself though. You threw your head over your shoulder,

“Just remember, he doesn’t like it when you leave the stains in his underwear. You’ll never get them out though, just burn them and buy a new pair!”

And with that, you were through the door. Though it was a small power move, the tears still flooded your vision. It hurt bad. There was a slight downpour, mimicking the feelings you harbored. With no car you had no choice but to keep walking.

The back of your feet were rubbed raw, skin broken and bleeding. The hairstyle you had chosen for that night and no doubt frizzy beyond repair through slight adjustments.

In your emotional haze, the grate on the sidewalk went unnoticed, the back of your heel payed the price. You stopped and removed the shoe, assessing the damage. This small inconvenience on any other day would’ve made you roll your eyes and let out a curse or two. This wasn’t a normal day.

You had broken character. An almost primal shriek left your chest. Something akin to that of a hurt animal. It wasn’t pretty, or poised. It was raw and unfiltered. The scream felt good, exhilarating.

Even with that nice release of emotion, you wanted to go home. You removed both shoes and chucked them as far as you could, sacrificing their beauty, and continuing on your journey back to your very warm and dry house.

A few minutes passed, you were about five minutes away when those headlights creeped up behind you.

You looked back, part of you hoping it was the fool you’d banked on. What he did was unforgivable, yes, but you had nothing else. As the car started to progress a little was past you, you tossed that hope through the window.

“Scuse’ me honey. Why’d ya throw your heels at me?”

You stopped, glaring over at the unidentified stranger,

A simple, “I didn’t,” was all he got out of you.

The car stopped all together. The sound of the door opening put you on edge. A man stopping at this time of night, to return a broken pair of heels? Yea, right. When he rounded his car with your shoes in hand and a smug look on his pretty…face. He looked you up and down and you did the same, wondering who-

Holy shit. Was all you could think. You had thrown your heels, your very broken heels at Elvis Presley.

“Now honey, I’m no shoe salesman, but I’d bet my bottom dollar, that these here fit those pretty little puppies just right. Save for your ankles of course—”

Your shoulders dropped and you held your hand out.

“Please, just give em’ here. Night’s been bad enough, Mr. Presley. I don’t need to be humiliated any further.”

The brunet let out a light chuckle,

“Wanna tell me your name?”

You let out a sigh,

“Y/n.”

“Call me Elvis. And I can see that it’s been a little rough. What happened, honey, date stood ya up?”

You shook your head and decided to humor him,

“No, I found my beau with a different beauty,”

His smile faltered and he parted his lips, no doubt to issue an apology. You continued before he got the chance,

“Which he proposed to…”

His mouth closed, face showing pity. The last part of your confessional came out barley above a whisper,

“On our anniversary.”

Elvis was too stunned to speak, he looked around as if to see if anyone else had heard what you just said. He was in utter disbelief, that someone could wilt a beautiful flower such as yourself.

“I’m sorry honey, I didn’t meant to poke fun at you, just wanted a chance to ask you on a date.”

You could’ve sworn your ears were malfunctioning.

“I’m flattered, but no less than twenty minutes ago, I thought I was getting married. I don’t think it’s a good time—”

Elvis was quick to shake his head,

“No , no I meant to say it wasn’t appropriate. But at least let me drive you home.”

With nothing but tears to lose, you nodded your head and shuffled to the passenger side door, which he kindly opened for you.

The two-minute ride i was silent but not uncomfortable, the radio was at a low volume and the only time you spoke was to give directions.

When you arrived at your small home, you thanked Elvis for the ride. Before you could part, he handed you a slip with his number on it,

“Call when you’re ready for that date, honey.”

Hesitantly, you took the slip and made your way inside.

It was stuffed in a drawer somewhere as you fell into your stupor. For two weeks, you wallowed in self-pity. Fourteen days before you grew a pair. You rummaged though all your kitchen drawers looking for that slip.

It might have been foolish to assume Elvis would still be thinking about you after two weeks, but you still gave it a try.

Your hands trembled as you spun the rotary dial, carefully choosing every number that was on the paper. Receiver against your ear, chewing on your lip.

It rang three times before you’d slammed the phone back on its hook. It was a fruitless idea, there was just no way—

A ring stopped your negative thoughts, it rang twice before you picked it back up. Saying hello and waiting for a response.

“Y/n?” There was a pause. You didn’t know he’d given you his personal number.

“Uh, hello? Honey?…ya there?”

You shook of the surprise,

“Y—yes, uh, yes m’here”

Elvis wouldn’t be Elvis without pointing out the obvious

“So, you’re finally callin’ bout that date?”

You could practically hear the smile in his voice, and with a roll of your eyes, you said yes.

That date turned into ten years of love and a little bit of stress. He got you the prettiest ring, proposed at the prettiest dinner, and gave you the gift of your son.

For once, tears felt good on your face. When you look for reasons to stay with this perfectly imperfect man, you remember,

Those bloody sacrifices.

Taglist: @powerofelvis @rjmartin11 @re3kin

[isthlsfate]

⌞ 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⌝

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: sometimes you get something better

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: elvis presley/austin!elvis x black!reader, angst, fluff, sexual content (mdni)

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 𖥔 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

elvis leans against the doorframe of the graceland kitchen, watching you from a distance.

the morning light spills through the wide windows, bathing you in a soft, golden glow as you pour a cup of coffee, lost in thought.

he can see the slight furrow in your brow, the same one you used to get when you were trying to work through something difficult.

it had only been a few weeks since you had walked back into his life, but already everything felt different.

for the first time in years, the loneliness that had clung to him, despite the crowds and constant noise of fame, began to fade.

now, it was replaced by something he hadn’t dared hope for—a sense of purpose, of belonging. of home.

but along with you came something he hadn’t expected.

your son.

he was five years old, quiet and shy at first, but with the same spark of life in his eyes that elvis had seen in you all those years ago.

the moment you told him, that night in the alley outside the concert, he had felt his heart stop.

"i didn’t want you to find out like this.” you’d said, your voice trembling as you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "but i wasn’t sure if i’d ever see you again, and now that i’m here… it’s important that you know."

elvis had barely been able to process it.

a kid?

his mind spun with the implications, the weight of the responsibility that came with it.

you had said the boy's father wasn’t in the picture, and elvis could see the tension in your shoulders as you spoke, the burden of carrying it all on your own for so long. but what had stunned him most wasn’t the fact that you were a mother. it was the feeling that rushed in after the initial shock—an overwhelming sense of protectiveness.

he wasn’t going to let you do this alone anymore.

now, as you turn and notice him standing there, he can’t help but smile.

you raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

“how long have you been lurking there?”

“long enough to know you make a mean pot of coffee.” he says, pushing off the doorframe and moving toward you.

his fingers graze yours as he takes the cup from your hands, and for a moment, you both stand in the quiet of the kitchen, the air thick with unspoken words.

"is he still asleep?" you asked, glancing toward the hallway where your son’s room was.

elvis nods, “out like a light."

you let out a soft sigh of relief and lean against the counter, your eyes scanning the room before settling back on him.

“i still can’t believe we’re here. that you… want us here.”

his expression softens into a faint frown, a subtle flicker of pain flashing in his eyes as your words sink in, tightening something in his chest.

with a quiet breath, he carefully sets the cup down, the sound barely audible, before stepping closer to you, a hesitant but deliberate shift in his stance.

“i meant what i said, honey. i want to be here—for both of you." he reaches for your hand, gently brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “i know it’s a lot to take in, but i want to help, however i can. you don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

tears well in your eyes, and you quickly look away, blinking them back.

“i’ve been doing it alone for so long, i’m not sure i know how to let anyone else in.”

elvis gently slips his hand beneath your chin, his touch warm and soft as he tilts your face toward his. his blue eyes lock with yours, their deep, mesmerizing gaze pulling you in, charged with an undeniable allure.

“then let me show you.”

you stand there in silence for a moment, his words sinking in, until finally you give a small nod. it was a beginning—one that elvis wasn’t going to take for granted.

nervous energy crackles between you, the weight of this moment heavy but gentle.

elvis guides you upstairs to your shared room, his gaze never leaving yours, even as he gently closes the door behind him.

he leans forward slowly, and you feel his breath against your skin, soft and warm, as his lips meet yours in a kiss that’s both tender and filled with longing.

his hands are careful as he slides the straps of your house dress off your shoulders, letting the delicate fabric cascade to the floor, leaving you exposed to him.

he kisses along your skin, kneeling before you, his touch reverent as if he’s trying to make up for lost time.

every caress feels deliberate, as though he’s learning your body for the first time, exploring with a tender curiosity.

standing, he moves his hands along your back, pulling you closer. you respond in kind, your heartbeat quickening in sync with his.

you let your walls down, surrendering fully as he guides you back to the bed.

there’s no rush, no need to hurry—just a quiet exchange of trust and affection, the moment unfolding naturally between you.

both of your movements are tentative yet filled with desire, a blend of curiosity and the need to be close.

with each kiss, each soft murmur, you navigate the newness together, savoring the intimacy that was as much emotional as it was physical.

*

in the weeks that followed, graceland became more than just the mansion elvis had bought to escape the chaos of his life—it became a home.

you and your son settled into a routine, slowly finding your place in the vast estate that once felt so hollow.

elvis could see the change in you, the way the weight of years of struggle began to lift from your shoulders.

and in return, you brought life back into his.

he had been spending more time at home, taking a break from the relentless touring schedule that had once consumed him.

the music was still there, but for the first time, it didn’t feel like the only thing.

he found himself spending mornings with your son, taking him down to the stables to see the horses or playing with toy cars in the living room. it was different from anything he had ever imagined for himself, but it felt right in a way nothing else had.

it was evening now, your son had gone to bed and the two of you are sitting out in the garden, the air warm and heavy with the scent of magnolias.

elvis notices the faraway look in your eyes and nudges you gently with his elbow.

“what’s on your mind, darlin’?”

you hesitate, biting your lip before you speak.

“i’ve been thinking about… my music. about what i had to give up when i became a mom.”

he raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“go on.”

you glance down at your hands, fidgeting nervously.

“you know i’ve always wanted to be a singer, elvis. not crazy famous like you, but… i had my own dreams.”

at your words, elvis thinks back to the little songs the two of you would make together, performing them for your families at supper.

he watches the emotions flicker across your face—the uncertainty, the longing. and in that moment, he sees a reflection of himself, of the boy who once stood on the brink of something big, not knowing if he had what it took to follow through.

“it ain’t too late.” he says, his voice firm and sure. “it’s never too late.”

you look up at him, surprised. “elvis, i have a child to take care of. i can’t just—”

“look.” he cuts you off gently, stepping closer and taking your hand in his. “you’ve spent years taking care of everyone else. now it’s time for you to do something for yourself. i’ll be here. we’ll figure it out. if music is what you want—what you need—then we’re gonna make it happen.”

your lips part, but no words come out. instead, you just stare at him, disbelief mingling with hope.

“b-but how?”

elvis smiles, one that reaches his eyes. his grip on your hand tightens.

“you’re livin’ in graceland, sweetheart. we got all the resources you need. you wanna record? we’ll record. you wanna write? i’ll make sure you have all the time you need. and don’t worry about the boy—i’ll be here for him too.”

you shake your head, still unable to fully grasp what he’s offering.

“e, i can’t just… drop everything. i’ve never had the kind of support you have. it feels… impossible.”

“nothin’s impossible.” he said, his voice low and filled with conviction. “you believed in me once, even when i didn’t believe in myself. now it’s my turn to believe in you. and i ain’t lettin’ you give up on your dreams. not again.”

tears well in your eyes as you process his words. for years, you had put your dreams on hold, telling yourself that there would never be a way to pursue them while raising a child alone.

but here was elvis—offering you the chance to take your passion back, to reignite the fire that had dimmed inside you, all the while providing you with the fullness of family.

“what if i fail?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

the blue eyed male reaches up a hand and squeezes your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin.

“then you fail. but at least you tried. and i’ll be there with you, every step of the way.”

a tear slips down your cheek, but this time, it’s one of relief.

you lean into him, resting your head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and in that moment, you know you’re not alone anymore.

“i’m scared.” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest.

“so am i.” he replies softly, his lips pressing gently against the top of your head. “but we’re gonna figure it out. together.”

for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to imagine a future where your dreams don’t have to be on hold. where you could have both—a family and a career.

the next few months are a whirlwind.

elvis had a small recording studio built just for you, where you spent hours writing, practicing, and recording your music. he was with you every step of the way—offering advice, encouraging you when the self-doubt crept in, and most of all, giving you the space to be yourself.

and as you worked on your music, elvis became more and more a part of your son’s life.

the two of them spent hours together.

it was a side of elvis that the world didn’t get to see often—the quiet, nurturing side that had always been there but had never had a chance to flourish.

graceland, once a symbol of his fame and isolation, had become something more.

it was a place where dreams could live again—your dreams, this time. and as you stand in the recording booth one evening, listening to your voice fill the room, you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

hope.

elvis watches you from the other side of the glass, his heart swelling with pride.

you had come back into his life unexpectedly, and now, here you are, chasing your own dreams, with him beside you.

as the last note of your song rings out, you look over at him, a smile playing on your lips.

he gives you a thumbs-up, and you feel a warmth bloom in your chest.

sometimes, you don’t just get a second chance.

sometimes, you get something better.

[enchantinglyjade]

Austin Butler/Elvis Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(M) = Mature

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Series

I Can Dream About You [Sebastian Kydd x OC] (M)

Alex is a quiet nobody that was lucky enough to get recognized by the most popular girl in school, Donna LaDonna. Now under Donna's rulership, Alex is faced with the issue of her own individuality when her and Donna fall for the same bad boy, transfer student, Sebastian Kydd. He is everything Donna wants, but what happens he falls for her invisible minion instead?

Milk & Honey [Austin!Elvis x Black!OC] (M)

The year is 1954. Honey James has recently moved her and her mother to Memphis, Tennessee to secretly pursue her passion for music. However, now living in a bustling city, she is quickly met with the harsh realities of what it means to be mixed race during her time. After constant rejection, she finally manages to get employed as a cleaner at one of Beale Street’s most inventive and poppin’ nightclubs, Club Handy, where she hopes to one day perform. Unfortunately for Honey, her road to fame faces even more sinkholes when she reunites with an old friend turned pop star that shows her a whole new world of difficulties and fears regarding the limelight and what it’s like to find love as a black woman in the deep south.

[kinascum]

CHARMED ᯓ★

Austin Butler x Reader

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

FLUFF. no major warnings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[buglass]

Just a Little Bit

Summary: You can’t stand it any longer; after a long day of watching Elvis film his latest beach flick Blue Hawaii in 1961, you take matters into your own hands and give him bodily appreciation--specifically to his thighs.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

WC: ~1K

Warnings: 18+ - Smut: oral, dry humping, kissing, and suggestive language.

A/N: A girl can dream.

Based on this post here.

The two of you, Elvis and yourself, were tangled in the sheets without a care. You never believed someone like Elvis, a celebrity, would be possible to run into casually and later interest. The second you both locked eyes on one another, Elvis quickly decided to pursue you during his late lunch break for Blue Hawaii. Ever since you spotted his long, tanned legs being held together by his all-too-fitting swim shorts--you were feening for a bite to either quad or hamstring. You didn’t know why Elvis did it for you in that instant--plenty of men wore the same sort of bathing suit--but you weren’t ashamed to have the opportunity. That’s how you wound up in one of the few empty hotel rooms, post-check-out of the original guests, you cleaned and serviced.

“You sure no one is comin’ around?” Elvis asked between kisses.

“Promise. I’m the only one working this side of the hotel,” you reassured.

You were sat atop Elvis and hunched forward as the two of you locked lips. Though you’re both mostly clothed, he managed to strip some items away from your body; leaving you in just your maid’s skirt and bra. You liked the control, rubbing where you needed him most between your legs against the ever-growing bulge that formed beneath his trunks. Elvis watched you, his lips curled as airy moans withered past his lips. He still wore the captain’s hat you found him in earlier and that somehow also did it for you. Elvis’ unwavering desire leaving him too distracted to undress himself made you feel you had control of his libido. 

You undid the little knot he tied at the front of his shirt, the floral pattern wrinkled once it was free. Elvis watched on with bright eyes, your careful but pressing fingers rubbing into his skin. You leaned down to latch your mouth onto one nipple, making him gasp. Elvis could hardly resist the small upward turn of his lips and the lines forming on either side of his mouth. Your hips didn’t stop rolling against him either, a small promise of what was to come. Elvis was silently taken aback by your forwardness as he usually was the one to kiss a girl all over and make her sing for him. You smirk as you move to his other nipple, lashing it with barely-there whippings of your tongue that make Elvis groan and take your waist into both hands to rub your heat against his cock. 

“I should be careful… I don’t know how I’m gonna explain coming in my bathin’ suit if we keep at it,” Elvis panted.

“I won’t let that happen,” you smile.

Lifting your head fully, you begin scooting back down the bed along his legs and kicking the sheets clinging to you both. Elvis looks curious as you slide lower and lower, leaving kisses across his stomach. When you hook your fingers into his shorts he groans as his dick springs free and he obliges by lifting his legs to rid of them. He sits up temporarily to remove the rest of his clothing, including his hat, and lays back down. You were new and shiny, but seldom did a woman handle him like you did. You weren’t shy to grab his cock by its base, spitting onto it and licking a stripe along the underside before you began stroking his uncut length. There was a point where you weren’t sure if Elvis was fucking into your hand or your wrist tugged at him excitably. 

Elvis tried reaching for you between your legs but settled for your breasts instead as it was too far, squeezing and massaging at one while you took charge. His legs were spread for you now and his cheeks, neck, and chest grew red as you dipped your head to nip at the inside of his thigh. The twenty-six-year-old made a noise that sounded as if he didn’t think was possible. Elvis hissed when you moved to the opposite thigh, biting and sucking at muscular and equally supple skin.

“Oh, shit,” Elvis whispered.

He might not have known your name without looking at the name tag on your shirt, but he sure as hell wouldn’t forget the way your plush lips looked on him. You slowed your hand around him and his cock twitched against your insistent hold. You didn’t mind the hair of his legs against your tongue, he wasn’t very hairy at all. Besides, for you, seeing the Great Elvis Presley fold and whimper because of your touch did it for you alone. When you could tell he was going to come from your ministrations, you aimed for much more sensitive spots closer to his pubic bone. The scent of him was much more potent there. His breaths came faster, prompting you to lap and suck at his balls in favor of his orgasm. 

Elvis dropped a hand to the side of your face, stroking it a few times before sliding up into your hair for something to hold on to. Anyone else touching your hair would have had a stern talking-to for messing it up. You watched Elvis from below as he softly begged or questioned if he should come. He wasn’t the type to want to leave a woman dissatisfied but you were so sure about getting him off only. 

“Oh, you suck me so good, honey,” Elvis hissed. “I need your mouth on my cock. Don’t wanna make a mess.”

You moan against his sac one last time before assisting Elvis, closing your lips around the head. He fucks into your mouth shallowly, his face soon contorting as he ground his teeth and tossed his head back. You feel his seed spill into the back of your throat, causing you to gag, and instead push him deeper into your throat. His dick pulses, coating your throat with spurt after spurt. Only when he’s spent and whimpering from sensitivity do you remove your mouth from him and swallow. 

“Goddamn,” Elvis laughs breathily.

“I couldn’t help myself,” you grin, moving from between his legs.

“Where ya goin’? We aren’t finished yet, come sit on my face, honey.” 

[lustnhim]

elvis swimming at his first memphis home (7-4-24) 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[mamasturn]

send you away, major gale cleven

pairing: major gale cleven (masters of the air) x black fem oc (eden marie cleven)

content: eden is anxious about having to be separated from her husband when he reveals that he has to serve in England.

an: I was burnt out from writing elvis content, but, now we're on masters of the air content, yay!

“I’m sorry, baby, but I gotta go.” His voice was a song sung by an old church choir; soothing, warm like her mama’s hugs, then it got disruptive. Like the snares of the drums as the song reached a climax. “They need us in England.” 

The pained look on her face would be engrained in his mind forever. There would be no way for him to forget it. Her thick eyebrows eat in a deep frown, pushing the rest of her features further down. Her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes, glistened with tears. She refused to blink. The gentle rivers would transition to monstrous waterfalls with no dam to keep them at bay. And her lips, full and swollen from tender kisses, quivered as she clenched her jaw to keep her composure. 

“For how long?” Her voice was quiet. Gale sighed heavily and ran a heavy hand through his hair. If he had an answer, he’d give it to her. But, his silence spoke loud enough. She hummed and brushed his hand off her lap and began to trudge upstairs. A defeated sigh came from him. 

“E,” Gale called out. He followed her up the wooden steps. “Eden!” 

His large hand palmed their bedroom door that threatened to push him out. The lamp on her side of the bed was on, the blankets on the left side were pulled back, and she stood in front of the mounted mirror brushing her freshly pressed hair. Her sad expression had morphed into one like stone. He could see her jaw tick as each second passed. 

Gale took slow steps toward her. He could only imagine what she was thinking. Her husband, whom she’d only been married to for six months, was being shipped off to England to assist them in bringing down Germany. How coulde she not be upset? 

Gale stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. His advances didn’t keep her from wrapping her hair and tossing her satin scarf around her head. He leaned down, nose brushing against the shell of her ear. Eden’s breath hitched. His lips followed, pecking at the sensitive area below her ear. He pulled at her skin with his teeth and she whimpered softly, her hand falling on top of his. “Gale…” A warning. 

“Talk to me,” he pleaded. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said after some time. “I knew what I got into when I married you but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared, Gale!” Finally, she turned to meet his gaze. So big and blue, they were. Filled with sympathy and remorse. 

“I knew what I was getting into when I married you, but still! I gotta send my husband away and I don’t want to think about the day where someone could knock on the door telling me--”

Gale shushed her softly and pressed her body against his in a tight embrace. His warm hand gripped her chin and tapped softly. She met his eyes. “So let’s not think about that. I leave in three weeks. We’re gonna focus on making these three weeks worthwhile, and we’ll cross the other bridge when we get to it. But I’ll always be with you one way or another, you know that, darlin’. You do know that, don’t you?”

Eden nodded. Gale raised an eyebrow. “I know, baby.” 

Gale hummed and drew invisible lines along the bare skin other thigh. The lace of her slip tickled her leg. His hand inched up slowly. “How about we practice for that final send off?” 

Eden smiled knowingly and broke away from him, peeling the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders her bare body on display. “C’mon, we’ve got all night.” 

All night indeed.

[ranaissingle]

In My Mind

Masterlist Summary: Reader exists in the same circle as Austin and has been head over heels in love with him for years but she never speaks up over the course of their friendship until a new years party. Rating: T Word Count: 2.1 k ( I swear this was meant to be a short whip I have no idea what happened)

Warnings: Unrequited love lol (can you tell I'm feeling angsty?) A/N: Hey girlies, it's been a hot minute haha. School kinda got in the way and then I had to learn (for the zillionth time) that men ain't shit (besides our lord and savior Austin Butler of course). I quite literally have no inspiration so please do send me some requests. I'm thinking of doing another angst fic about Hanahaki disease... How do we feel?

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When Austin told you he had started dating Vanessa Hudgens you felt like you wanted to die. Yes. Die. The world seemed to close in on you as he continued explaining how they had met and how he had asked her out. Each word was another knife in your throat and every admission of his love for her tore your heart into smaller and smaller pieces.

But you sat there and listened. You listened as he detailed their first kiss, their first date, his confession, and hers to him. It took each ounce of self-control to not get up and scream. Scream at him for not knowing how you felt and scream for the heart that had broken.

But you kept your mouth shut. You helped Austin plan all the valentines day dates, the birthday trips, and each anniversary date. Every single thing he had done for her and every girl he had been with since had been painstakingly vetted by you. You were happy to help him, but the fact that all your preparations were for another girl was a hard pill to swallow.

Everything came to a head when he started dating Kaia Gerber. She was beautiful. in every way imaginable she was conventionally attractive. Her skinny legs, straight waist, and small hips made you want to collapse in on yourself. She was perfect in every way. She was everything you were not. Tall, skinny, and beautiful.

Austin was smitten. He had developed a habit of dating skinny models and he had yet to break it. You were anything but surprised when she caught his eye when he asked you if you had her number, when he took her out for the first date, and then eventually when they started dating. It was routine for you now.

He would meet a girl, become infatuated, date her, dump her, then move on to the next one.

But at least you stayed constant. You had been constant for well over a decade at this point. That was more than any of the other girls could say. So you were content, until the New Year's of 2022. It was December 31st, 2022 and Austin had just broken up with his latest fling and had elected to spend New Year's as a free agent. You had never really had a date on new years because your previous relationships always ended before the fateful day or started after. You had grown accustomed to accompanying the same leather chair in the corner of your living room while you watched your friends with their respective partners mingle about your house. You sipped champagne as you watched couples drunkenly sway together as the countdown began to draw dangerously close to midnight.

1 hour to midnight

You spotted Austin out of the corner of your eye and you felt the iciness in your heart melt when he smiled at the people he spoke to. He was in the middle of a group of 4 other people yet still looked ethereal. His hair shone under the kitchen light and the crinkles around his eyes made you want to run your fingers over them.

You watched him. You watched how his lips moved. You traced his figure with your eyes until you reached his hands. His fingers picked at the cuticles of his nails. It was his nervous habit. He always resorted to picking at his cuticles whenever he was around people he didn't know well. It had led to many last-minute manicures before photoshoots to help deal with the redness it left.

30 minutes to midnight

You slowly pushed yourself off the comfortable chaise and made your way over to him. Maybe if you were with him he would feel so nervous, and it could save you from a last-minute call to the nail salon where you had to beg for an opening. You slid in next to him and smiled at the people around him. They barely looked away from Austin to greet you, but you were fine with that. Austin was the star, not you. You slipped your hands in his hand and tugged it behind your back to keep it out of view from those around you.

Austin thrived off of physical touch. He needed it like the air he breathed. Whenever he was feeling nervous or overwhelmed being enveloped in a hug from you or even just having your hand in his was enough to calm the nerves and allow him to breathe. Austin looked down to where you were pressed into his side.

You knew him so well that even from across the room you knew he needed grounding. His chest swelled with pride for a reason he couldn't quite pinpoint. His conversation with those around him continued without a hitch and when the countdown started to broadcast on the TV, they all made their way to their respective partners leaving you and Austin alone at the kitchen island.

15 minutes to midnight

You kept Austin's hand clasped in yours as the countdown numbers descended. Neither of you planned on moving or letting go. The warmth of his hand reached places all over your body and practically heated you up from the inside.

7 minutes to midnight

Austin leaned his head down to whisper into your ear, "If I didn't know you better I'd say that you end up single on New Year's on purpose." You heard the smile in his voice.

"Do you?"

His brown furrowed together, "Do I what?"

You matched him with a grin of your own.

"Know me better." The half tilt of your head made his stomach churn.

His laugh was smooth and boisterous. He brought his other arm around your shoulder to bring you closer to his side. Your heart slowed as you relaxed into him and abandoned your unnecessarily alcoholic drink on the kitchen counter.

5 minutes to midnight

"Hey." Austin's voice cut into the still air of the room. His eyes were trained on the TV and you looked up at his jaw as you waited for him to finish his sentence.

"Do you… do you wish you had a date? For New Year that is." The question caught you off guard and you twitched as you pressed into his side.

"uhm, I-I. I gues-" You stuttered when you couldn't seem to form a cohesive response. Your heart started to accelerate again and your breaths came out in short pants.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself once more to better be able to form a cohesive sentence.

"Well, I guess no one wants to be alone on New years. But that is just how it always seems to happen." You paused a sudden feeling of bravery came over you. The most likely culprit of such a feeling being the alcohol.

"And the person I would like to be with is almost always in a relationship during the New Year." You focused your gaze on the suddenly very interesting kitchen tiles. You had previously told Austin about someone that you had a crush on for years. You had tried to keep it yourself but Austin tended to pry when it came to matters of love but as much as he tried to wrangle the information out of you about who it was, you had kept tight-lipped and unwavering in your resistance to respond.

"Oh?" His eyebrow quirked up as he looked away. It seems he had also taken a sudden interest in the wall decor you had across the room.

"Is this the same guy you've told me about before?" His voice was deep and his throat bobbed as he spoke.

"Yes, it is actually. The very same."

"Haven't you been into this guy for years Y/N?"

"Yes, I have."

"And you are still into him? Why? He is the stupidest man in the world if he hasn't noticed by now." His chuckle was low but you could tell he didn't actually find it remotely funny.

You looked up at him and wished that he would understand from your eyes that you were talking about him, that you were in love with him.

But you had been in love with him for nigh over 10 years and the dolt had yet to come to any significant realization regarding your feelings so there was no use hoping for something like that now.

"Well, I would stop loving him if I could, but as soon as I feel like I can get over him, he does something that has been crawling back." You shrugged lightly and took another sip of your drink before placing it back on the counter.

3 minutes to midnight

"And it doesn't help that he is my best friend." You were skirting around the dangerous territory with that statement. You knew you were. But you were so tired that all the previous reservations and rules you had so painstakingly followed, disappeared.

Austin's eyes widened in confusion.

"Best friend? You have another best friend?" Austin was too slow for his own good.

You shrugged before replying, "Nope, I only have one best friend."

He let out an exasperated sigh

"So I'm not your best friend?!" Your eye twitched.

"No Austin. You are my only best friend."

"So who are you in love with?" Your fingers twitched. You were going to strangle him.

"I am in love with my one and only best friend."

Silence

Austin tensed next to you and you awaited the sting of his rejection that you had spent the better part of the last 10 years preparing for.

2 minutes to midnight

The silences echoed in the room despite the growing cheers of those around you. The timer was steadily counting down the seconds and you wanted to vomit.

The bile rose in your throat when the counter reached 30 seconds. Awaiting his rejection was arguably worse than the rejection itself.

10

9

8

You pushed away from him. His previously comforting warmth had twisted something in your gut and now you wanted to vomit.

6

5

His hand traced your back as you slid away before it fell back to his side. He stuttered out a "W-wait."

But you didn't want to

3 Austin yanked you back until your face was back in his chest and his arm was around your waist. He moved his head into your neck and pushed his nose into your hair before taking a deep breath.

2 Your breath caught when he pulled your head away from him to look into your eyes. 1 He kissed you. He kissed so hard you could have sworn you had fireworks behind your eyes. His hands were everywhere. Crossing your neck, cupping your hips, and splaying across your back. He kissed you until neither of you could breathe anymore. You wrenched away from each other and gulped down large breaths of fresh air.

His hand shakily pressed against your cheek and you looked up to meet his eyes. You didn't want this to be something that only happened because it was the heat of the moment. You wanted it to mean something to him. You wanted him to love you the same way you had for years. You didn't want this to be mean nothin-

"I love you." You had the timbre of his voice memorized. You knew it was Austin speaking but you still looked around you dreading the possibility of him not speaking to you.

But your face was still cupped in between his hands and his eyes were on you.

your eyes were wide as you looked at him You felt stinging and then a prick of tears in your eyes. They fell slowly down your cheeks one by one and Austin kissed each of them away.

All at once you need him on you all over again. You had gone years without so much as a kiss on the cheek from him and you would be damned if you continued in that fashion.

So you pulled his lips hard against you and kissed him until your lips were numb and swollen, and even then you didn't want him off of you.

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well, this was probably shitty so forgive me. It has been a while since I posted so figured I needed to back in the groove of things haha. I think I might do a professor x university student Austin fic next so watch out for that lol.

[idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy]

Mann black people are so narcissistic 😂😂

not writing for other races is rude like girl please, you only don’t want to write it because your black and you have some hatred towards other races…grow the hell up

also ur stories have so much misspells 🖕🏻

First of all don’t come on to MY page and attack me or my race.

And also if I don’t want to write for other races specifically that’s MY choice.

I’ve said many times before I only write for Black!fem reader specifically because I’m BLACK and I know how to write a black girl.

Now that’s different for other races/ethnicities because I am not apart of that community. I do it out of respect because I don’t want to butcher a culture/group or seem offensive in any way.

I normally just write xfem (no clarified race) reader so other people can enjoy the story.

I HAVE NO HATRED TOWARDS OTHER RACES.

And you need to fkn grow up coming in my acc and bashing me with your rude misinformation shit.

And since you know so much about my page and have been stalking me. You would know if you read my masterlist I have said my grammar could be bad…so if it bothers you that much, maybe dm me???

And come off anon and talk to me like that instead of hiding , your scared😂😂.

[ssinnerplazahotel]

WC:3k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Note/: intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions—all reader’s welcomed

When you saw him watching, you couldn’t help but put on a show. He didn’t seem like the type of man to approach a woman; you imagined he wouldn’t have had to do so often. Instead, he watched you move around the crowded lounge for over half an hour. He smiled softly whenever you caught his eye but otherwise only looked when you weren’t. At one point you had moved to the opposite side of the room and you thought you’d lost him. But when he managed to find you, you managed to find it in your heart to put him out of his misery.

He spoke first when you were close enough to hear him over the band. “You’re good at that.”

“At what?”

“Dancing.”

You laughed. “You’re good at watching.”

“What’s your name?”

“What?”

“Your name?”

You pretended not to be able to hear him over the music and offered to go upstairs to talk some place quieter. He hesitated and although you wondered why, you didn’t question it. You managed to get through the dense crowd without losing each other and you guided him upstairs.

“Yo, Treasure.” You found a familiar face lingering by the staircase.

“Chuck, baby, why am I not surprised to see you here?”

“You can’t be more surprised than me,” He said. “You look good.”

“You look the same as when I saw you last.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“He doesn’t have a name yet.” You smiled and continued up the stairs with your new friend in tow.

“Your name’s Treasure?” He asked.

“It is for Chuck.”

“What is it for me?”

You thought for a moment. “…Birdie.”

“Why ‘birdie?’”

“Have you ever seen a bird stay in one place for more than a few seconds?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” He was still confused. “I’m saying that I refuse to stay still.”

“You refuse?”

“Yeah.”

“…I struggle keeping still myself.”

“I guess we’re the same.”

He stepped towards you whenever you stepped back, keeping the space between you minimal. “Do you live around here?”

“I’m not from here.”

“Where are you from?”

“Nowhere.”

“W-What’s that mean?”

“I sorta go wherever I want and do whatever I want.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, and I don’t stop by the same place twice.” He looked disappointed. “My mother was the same way, so I can’t really say I’m from anywhere.”

“Oh.”

“What’s your name, baby?”

“O-Oh, it’s uh, Elvis.”

“Uh-Elvis?”

He chuckled softly and despite the dim light you saw the tips of his ears turn red. “Yeah.”

“I saw you up there talking to BB.”

“Yeah, w-we uh—I know him.”

“He ever show you this room?” You went over to the window and looked out. “They used to leave me up here when I was too little to party.”

“You were little? I-I mean, y-you knew him w-when you were little?”

“Come look, you can see the road from here.” You waited for him to cross the room, watching his expression as he looked out the window. He didn’t look too impressed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…w-why’d you ask?”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why would you?”

You shrugged. “Just being careful.”

He stepped closer. “You don’t have to be careful with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You slipped your hands onto his shoulders. “Still okay?”

He nodded.

“Yes?” You wondered.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“You can touch me, y’know?”

When he realized that his arms were still motionless at his sides he moved to hug your waist; you smiled as your body pressed against his.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You laughed.

“I-I don’t—y-you’re just…I don’t think I’ve met a girl like you.”

“You need to get out more.”

You couldn’t make out his expression as he examined your face. “Can I kiss you?”

You were shocked that he had been polite enough to ask. “Only if you promise to buy me a drink.”

He nodded. “Whatever you want.”

He wasn’t only polite in asking, he was polite in letting you make every move. His lips were soft when they met yours. He was nice…too nice.

“Remember when you said I didn’t have to be careful with you?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“You don’t have to be careful with me either.”

“Okay.”

“Touch me, Elvis.”

“Okay.”

He deepened the kiss but it was up to you to take his idle hands and make them grope your breasts. After that bit of encouragement, they were all over you as he held you against the windowsill. You wondered if anyone could see the two of you from the road but you didn’t care enough to stop.

You guided his right hand under the skirt of your dress and he rubbed you through the damp fabric of your underwear. You smiled against his lips when he pushed the fabric aside and his trembling fingers met your arousal. He kissed you more eagerly and touched you with the same vigor. Despite his nerves, he was sure of himself as he fingered you within an inch of your life.

“Yes, baby, that’s perfect,” You whimpered. You could feel his confidence growing with every word of encouragement. Soon he broke the kiss in favor of meeting your eyes; forcing you over the edge with one final thrust in the right direction. Before he pulled away, you guided his hand to your lips.

“No,” He whispered in awe, watching with lust blown pupils as you lick his fingers clean.

You kissed him again, grinning at the desperation behind his tongue but stopping suddenly. “H-How about that drink, huh?”

His shock didn’t go unnoticed. “O-Oh…”

“You owe me, remember.”

“Y-Yeah…okay.”

He looked confused when you moved to unbuckle his belt. The sound he made when you touched him scratched a certain part of your brain—it made you want to make him fall apart. It’d be so easy.

“Oh my god,” He muttered breathlessly as you tucked his errection into his waist band.

“We’ll just tuck this away for later. No one will ever know.” You instructed him to fix his belt while you grabbed your purse.

“W-What, uh…What drink do you want?”

“Something sweet.”

“Something sweet,” He repeated. “…Sure.”

“Go, I’m right behind you,” You said, stopping to wipe your lipstick off his lips before ushering him the rest of way out of the room.

You followed him out after fixing your clothes and makeup. When you got downstairs you stopped the first man you ran into.

“Hey, baby, come here.” You smiled and motioned for him. “Wanna buy me a drink?”

“In exchange for what?”

You almost rolled your eyes. “You choose.”

“What do you want?”

“Something sweet.”

He looked like a man who struck gold as he rushed towards the bar. You spotted Elvis there too and you couldn’t help but laugh watching the two order similar drinks.

“Hope this is sweet enough for you, doll,” Elvis said as he handed over the drink, kissing your cheek along the way. BB showed up and began pestering him about treating you right, but you could hardly pay attention as you kept an eye out for the tall dark devil you sent to the bar. Your stomach churned in delight when you saw him making his way over. You took a seemingly harmless step away from Elvis and BB when he neared, abandoning the drink that had been placed in your hands just moments before.

“Something sweet,” He said when he found you.

“Aw, baby, you really shouldn’t have.” You felt Elvis’ eyes boring into you, how could you not when he was only a few feet away.

“I bet you’re the sweet one, really.”

“Stop,” You chuckled.

“Once you finish that we can roll.”

“Roll where?”

You choked on your strawberry daiquiri, covering your mouth to hide your amusement at the sound of Elvis’ voice.

“Is there a reason you’re talking to me?”

“Is there a reason you’re talking to my girl?”

“Your girl?” The stranger looked at you.

“I’ve never seen that man in my life,” You said with an oblivious expression, ignoring BB’s horrified one.

“Hold on just a damn minute~” Elvis started as the man went to defend you, stepping in front of you to act as a barrier.

“BB you oughta get this flamingo outta here, he don’t fit no way.”

You backed away discreetly, moving away as BB kept the two men from attacking each other. You abandoned your drink on a nearby table, slipping down the wooden steps of the lounge and into the cool night. You were relieved to be outside again. You sauntered into the street, hardly dodging the few cars that still lingered that late in the evening. You looked back at the club once more before disappearing into the night with a final laugh.

*

“I don’t know when you’re gonna stop coming back here. I can’t keep blocking off streets for you.”

“Anything?”

“Oh, I’m fine, thanks for asking~”

“BB, please.”

“E.P…” The man sighed, pouring a drink. “It’s the same as I told you before, I ain’t seen her since that night.”

“Has anyone seen her?”

“Nah…” He offered Elvis the drink but he declined the glass.

“I’m getting on the road tomorrow,” He said instead. “I dunno when I’ll be back in Memphis again.”

BB looked thrilled. “That’s good to hear~”

“I wanted to see her again before~”

“That girl’s probably halfway across somewhere by now. She don’t stay put.”

“You said she’s your cousin.”

“That’s how I know. I heard stories about her for years ‘fore I actually laid eyes on her, that’s how fast she moves around.”

“…There was something about her.”

“There’ll be something about someone else soon I’m sure.”

“What’s her name?”

“I can’t~”

“Please. I’ll never see her again anyway. Neither will you from the looks of it.”

He looked conflicted but ultimately answered. “…It’s Y/n.”

“Y/n?”

“Are you bunnies talking about me?”

BB groaned and rushed to push the door shut before any desperate stragglers slipped through. “Can you get that maniac upstairs before I have to board up another window.”

You couldn’t tell if Elvis was the maniac or if you were. “Oh, BB, aren’t you happy to see me at least?”

“Upstairs!”

“Fine.”

You huffed and led the way upstairs. You faced Elvis when you were behind the door of the small room upstairs. He looked the same as when you saw him last, only the circles under his eyes were darker and he looked more stressed.

“What happened to not stopping by the same place twice?”

“You remember that but not the part where I told you that I do whatever I want.” He rolled his eyes. “You look tired.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

“I called that number you gave BB.”

“He’s really not supposed to be giving that out.”

“A man picked up.”

You liked the jealous undertone in his voice, it made you smile. “Did he say ‘hi?’”

“Who was it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Did he give you my message?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

His jaw twitched. “…I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“I know that’s why I came today.”

“You couldn’t have come sooner? Shit, I asked BB about you a million times in the last five weeks.”

“That’s a lot of asking when you could’ve just called.”

“And talk to your man?”

“And talk to my dad, jackass.”

He looked stunned and you laughed. “Y-Your dad? You live with your father?”

“No, but I stop by to pick up my mail when I’m in town.”

“Which is…whenever you want?”

“That’s right, bunny.”

“Uh-uh, don’t go giving me one of your freaky little nicknames, alright, I got a name. I like my name, I want the whole world to know it~”

“I didn’t mean to get you all flustered~”

“I don’t get flustered.”

You bit back a smile. “Okay.”

He sighed and looked off. “I can’t believe you’d wait til tonight to show up.”

“I came as soon as I got the message.”

“You’re playing with me.”

“I’m not. You’re the only reason I came back.”

“You’re lying.”

“Come on, bun…Elvis.” You inched towards him, waiting until he met your eyes to continue. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I’m happy to see you, I just wish I didn’t feel like I had to stare at you for the next five hours to make up for the past five weeks.”

“You count like a girl.”

“You get around like one.”

“How dare you~”

“Where do you go when you run off in the middle of the night? You aren’t sleeping in the street are you?”

You were shocked by his forwardness. “It’s none of your business, honestly.”

“Of course it isn’t. Because you do whatever you want, you go wherever you want to go~”

You groaned. “You’re making me regret even showing back up in this old, deadbeat town.”

“I feel like an idiot. All these days I’ve been holding you up here when really you’re subpar with the rest~”

“It’s not my fault you spent the last five weeks hoping you could fuck me before tour~”

“I don’t want to fuck you, I want to talk. I hardly said two words to you the last time I saw you.”

“I’m not the talking type.”

“Where do you go at night?”

“…I just…fly away.”

“You fly away?”

“Yeah, but…I gotta stop by and pick up my mail tonight. Wanna come?”

“Sure,” He responded sarcastically. “I’ll just pull my fucking jet around.”

You laughed. “I’m serious. Unless you’re too mad at me.”

“…I’m not mad at you,” He finally said.

“Then come with me.”

“Fine.”

“Can you get us out of here?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect.”

*

You were hoping to avoid running into Ron, but he was up waiting for you when you got there. You couldn’t make out his expression, but you knew he wasn’t happy.

“This is Elvis. I told you about him.”

“Elvis? What kind of name is that?”

Elvis started to respond but you stopped him in time. “Some guys were bothering me so he was walking me home. We were just saying goodnight.”

“Bothering you where?”

You shook your head. “Nowhere, just up the street b-by O'malley's…”

“…We need to talk.”

“Okay, baby, I’ll come talk to you in a minute.”

“It was nice to meet you, Ron.”

“Yeah…”

You stopped Elvis when he headed back toward the door, holding your finger to your lips until you heard Ron’s bedroom door shut behind him. You motioned for the stairs and carefully crept up them—showing him how to avoid the creaky parts of the steps. You were relieved when you were behind the door of your bedroom.

“That wasn’t so bad.” You slipped his coat off your shoulders and threw it on your bed.

“That’s your dad?” He looked uneasy.

“Yeah, but only when he’s sober.” You laughed.

“Is that your father?”

“…No.”

“Are you together?”

“No…he don’t care what I do as long as he gets the final word.”

“And does he?”

“Does he what?”

“Does he get the last word?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because it don’t seem right.”

“Bunny, don’t make it more complicated than it is~”

“I’m not playing your game right now, I’m serious.”

“So am I—leave it alone. You can go back where you came from if you think you’re gonna be sitting up here interrogating me like you’re my goddamn daddy.”

“But he can?”

“Yes, he can. And can also put a bullet between your eyes if I ask him to.”

He looked shocked. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Do I even have to say it?”

“Say what?”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Y’know what…fine, that’s fine.”

You almost felt yourself stopping him when he turned to leave. You refrained and instead faced your window to light a cigarette. You heard the shuffle of his coat going on before there was silence.

“Is this where you’ll be?”

“Aren’t you leaving tomorrow?”

“Is this where you’re going to be?”

“Not if I can help it.”

He sighed. “Will he give you my messages?”

You nodded. “I’ll get them whenever I drop by.”

“Can you try to do that more often?”

“Drop by?”

“Yeah. So I can hear from you while I’m on the road.”

“…I’ll try.”

“Will you?”

“I’ll try, bunny, I promise.”

When you heard from him again it had been weeks later when you received a copy of his latest record in the mail. Ron got real quiet when he saw what it was—not good. You flew away quickly that night; leaving the record behind as proof of how much it meant to you.

The next time you heard Elvis’ voice, you just so happened to be in town when he called.

“Hello?”

“Birdie?”

“Elvis?”

“You’re home?”

“Elvis…”

“Hello?”

“Y-You can’t call this late, you’ll wake up Ron.”

“Why are you whispering? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…h-he just now went to sleep and I don’t want to wake him up.”

“I called last week and I ain’t heard nothing back.”

“Sorry, he…” You checked down the hall before dropping your voice some more. “He’s still mad about th-the record you sent.”

“He is?”

“Yeah, y-you really can’t do those kinds of things.”

“I thought you said Ron don’t care.”

“…Ron takes care of me, Elvis.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, so if he asks me not to accept gifts from other people I don’t accept gifts from other people.”

“For someone who does whatever they want he has you on a leash this big~”

“I’m hanging up.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I can’t talk.”

“I’m sorry about the record. I s-sent em around to everyone. I-I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I know…don’t do it again, that’s all.”

He fell silent on the other line and you didn’t rush the silence, you just let it be until he spoke up again. “Where are you going to be tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” You responded. “What about you?”

“I don’t know…”

You couldn’t let the silence sit that time. “I have to go before he realizes I’m gone.”

“…I’m starting to think you don’t feel safe.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

“I’m gonna come get you.”

You stifled a laugh. “Oh no.”

“I’m serious.”

“Come get me then.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you be there?”

“You always ask the right questions, don’t you?”

He was serious. “Birdie.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Will you be there?”

“Honestly? I hope not.”

He sighed softly but he didn’t say anything about being disappointed. “I’m gonna be in Ohio for the next two weeks.”

“Okay. Good luck in Ohio.”

“…Thank you.”

“…You’ll break my heart if you make me hang up first.”

You heard him chuckle and after a beat of silence the line went dead.

*

“Every time I see you I go to pinch myself.”

“Do you know what it takes for a girl like me to get this far this fast?”

“I’m sure Ohio’s happy you’re here.”

“Ohio better not be the only thing happy to see me. I might turn my ass around.”

He laughed. “Y-You wanna ride with us?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I’m headed to meet someone. I just thought I’d surprise you while I was here.”

“Where ya headed? W-We can drop you off on the way.”

“I’m going back that way, opposite direction.”

“What way?”

“That way.” You motioned vaguely.

“Let’s go, EP. Truck’s already rollin.”

“You should go.”

“W-Will you come with us?”

“Baby, I already said~”

“Please? You don’t know where you’re headed anyway, what’s the difference?”

“They’re going to leave without you.”

“Get in the truck.”

For some reason you hesitated and you found yourself rushing to respond. “I-I really can’t.”

“Why?”

They blew the horn and he got this anxious expression on his face that made you feel bad. “I can’t just leave you standing here~”

“Let’s play a game,” You said, opening your purse and rummaging around for a moment. “Take…uhm, take this, okay?”

“Why?” He asked, letting you put the silver compact mirror in his palm.

“So you can give it back when I see you next time.”

Another exasperated blow from the car horn.

“Kiss me.” You stood up on your tiptoes expectantly and waited for his lips to touch yours before pushing him away. “Go. Be careful.”

“Me be careful?” He wondered as he skipped a few steps toward the truck. “You be careful.”

“Elvis!” You called just as he climbed into the truck and shut the door. You laughed when you saw him sticking his head out the window.

“What?” He called as the truck started rolling.

“I love you!”

“What?”

“I love—“ You motioned to your heart and then to him. “—you!”

You couldn’t make out his expression as the truck picked up speed and made its way down the road. You watched until the vehicle was out of sight, suddenly feeling the emptiness of the night as you stood there alone.

*

“He’s in a bad way…there’s no telling how long he’ll be over there.”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

You rummaged through your purse in search of any change, collecting the loose dimes from the bottom of the handbag.

“I’m only telling you ‘cause he’s been here every night since he found out. I been boarding up windows and blocking off doors~”

“I’m waiting for this to turn into my problem, BB.”

“This is your problem, this is solely your problem.”

“I don’t even know when I’ll be in Memphis again.”

“Can’t you get one of your men to bring you down here? How much they be paying Ron anyway?”

“It’s not about the money~”

“However much it is, I’ll pay him back if you can get here ‘fore he ships out.”

You laughed. “What is it about that man that makes you do whatever he says?”

“I could ask you the same damn thing. I’m tryna get a problem off my hands.”

“So am I.”

“Nobody put you in the position you’re in.”

“…I don’t know if I can be in Memphis before next week. It’s too short notice.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Ron’s sick of hearing about him and he’s starting to take it out on me. Things were good before, I don’t need all this.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have told him you loved him and you’d see him again.”

“I didn’t think I would, that’s why I said it. I was just trying to make his night.”

“You made it alright.”

“…I’m on my last dime, baby.” You turned the silver over in your palm before dropping it into the pay phone.

“I know you can be here, you can be anywhere.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Come by the club, have a drink with the man. Do all your little tricks and disappear like always.”

“I’ll see, okay? Don’t be mad at me…I can’t handle you being mad at me.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.”

[beeandheroddobsessions]

Drop It!

Warnings: Supernatural elements. Dead!Elvis. Reader’s father is dead. Reader denotes elvis to his face. Dilapidated Graceland.

Summary: It’s move-in day! Reader spends the day fixing up the house. By the end of the night, she just wants to relax but something, or someone, needs to talk to her.

A/N: I am fully aware that graceland is cared for and not at all in ruin but the story calls for it. I put a lot of thought into this series and i really want everyone to enjoy it! The story is inspired by my house and what it’s like living here. though i’ve never come face to face with my goulish friends, i do respect them. A small bit, while comical, is something i actually did experience. Granted, i never spoke to anyone, or at least, never got an audible response. Most of this series includes odd happenings that i’ve dealt with. Isn’t that fun? Non-beliver or not, i hope you enjoy it. Happy reading- Bee💕

September 2023

The keys resting in your palms bring nothing but joy, even after dealing with a snippy mother and grumbling movers on an overcast Thursday afternoon. It should've been alarming, the way that realtor hightailed it off the property, but you were just glad to get your hands on what once was a beautiful home.

Graceland had nearly fallen to ruin; once the previous owner's legacy began to deteriorate, so did respect for the house. Squatters, Drug dealers, vandals, this house has seen it all. Yet, under all that muck and destruction, you saw a chance to restore its beauty.

Your mother was a bit...perturbed by the decision, wondering what she had done in your childhood that could've led to this point. When the idea was first pitched, she laughed it off, assuming it was another one of your odd bouts, like it was some fairytale. So imagine her surprise when you tossed the paperwork onto the breakfast table.

Your mother's concerns only doubled when she actually saw the house. Move-in day is supposed to be exciting, and for you, it is. Pushing past the doors into your new home is something magical. You don't know where to start. The kitchen? The front room? Upstairs? It's all so tempting.

"Mama, this place, it's so beautiful. Doesn't it jus' make you wanna cry?" You exclaim, unable to contain the excitement rushing through your body.

"...That's...well, that's one way to put it." your mother says, watching for possible loose beams as you traverse through the house.

You kiss your teeth at her tone and begin rattling on about your ideas for the space.

"I can fix her up in no time. We can start with the walls; they only need a few patches and a fresh coat a' paint. Oh! And then we can work on the floors. And I'm sure we can find some replicas or have 'em made. I think-"

"Y/n!" your mother interrupts, "Rome wasn't built in a day, baby. Don't get too ahead of yourself. You already broke the bank buyin' this...place and-"

You shake your head "Mama, don't you know who used to live here? Daddy woulda-"

The older woman before you holds up her hand, face dropping into an unamused expression. "Don't compare me to your daddy; we never did have the same tastes. And of course, I know; Elvis was my crush before you were even thought of."

You tilt your head, shifting to move a box. "But you just said you n' daddy didn’t have the same-"

She cuts you off before you can finish your thought. "Hush up and listen to your mama." A chuckle leaves your mouth as she scolds you.

"After all this time, daddy still can't catch a break?"

Your mother lets out a saddened sigh, "Well, he may not be here physically, but pokin' fun at him is the only way I know he's still around."

Your shoulders drop, and you set the box down. Your father passed away six years ago; he didn't want his family knowing he was sick. You thought it was a cruel joke, some twisted prank set to traumatize you forever. The wails your mother let out that night on the kitchen floor told you otherwise. She tries to pretend but hasn't been the same since—the idea of remarrying tossed to the wind like a dandelion's pappi.

"Mama, don't you think daddy would've wanted you to let him go?" you lament, hoping your mother would consider it this time. But, alas, the notion is shot down once again.

"You may not believe in ghosts or the afterlife, y/n, but I do. Your daddy is always with me. It wouldn't be right to get hitched in his face."

You shrug and continue unpacking, "If you say so mama, I jus couldn't imagine stickin' it out till the very end." That statement seems to tickle your mama pink. "You ain't never been in love, sugar pie. When you meet your mister right, you'll know what I mean."

You purse your lips. Even while talking about her dead husband, she hints at your sad love life. To you, love is just a feeling, and the dead are just that, dead. So your mother's musings about 'ghosts' and 'true loves' are nothing short of fantasy in your world.

"O...kay. Well, we've got a lot to do, and we've been talkin' bout nothin' for ten whole minutes. Let's hop to it!"

Your mother rolls her eyes, "This ain't my dream house, honey. I ain't GOT to do nothin' but stay black and die."

"Oh, here you go with that mess. You agreed to help your only baby move in so that I wouldn't 'die in my sleep cause some spider decided to munch on me,' so don't give me none of that." You mock.

Your mother pops your arm and grabs a broom. "You yo' daddy's daughter, alright. Couldn't have got that mouth from me." She mutters.

For the next four hours, the two of you dispose of odd findings, scrub, wash, disinfect, and grumble through the house. By the time you finish, the home is as clean as clean gets. The sun has set, and all you want to do is eat and sleep. The last thing to set up is the bedroom.

You feel a little strange sleeping in a room that once belonged to such a legend, but he isn't here, and the house belongs to you. The wall of TVs would be dealt with later. For now, a flatscreen was simply placed in front of them; aside from that, you pre-ordered replicas of the bedroom furniture, not wanting to personalize too much.

After kissing your mother goodbye, you trudge up the stairs, stopping halfway to crack your back. Once you return to the master suite, flopping on the bed only seems fitting. A groan escapes you as you realize you still need to shower. Rolling over, you grab a towel from your suitcase, lay out some pajamas on the center of the bed, and head for the bathroom.

While waiting for the water to warm, perched on the porcelain throne, the lights flicker. You'll need to replace the bulbs later; simple fix.

When the water reaches hell, you waste no time jumping in. It soothes your aching body, and all of the tension from today washes down the drain. You hum a nonsensical tune to keep you entertained while you clean away the dirt and grime. In the middle of the improvised song, a crash steals your attention.

You finish rinsing and shut off the water, quickly making your way to the bedroom door. You aren't going to investigate; too bright (or too experienced in the horror genre) to even give that a thought. No, you lock the door and mind your business; that is a morning problem.

When you turn back to retrieve your nightwear, you find them on a chair in the corner of the room. Odd. You could've sworn you left them in the middle of the bed. Whatever, you think as you throw them on.

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, you grab the remote and turn the TV on—finally, a moment of peace. You flick through Netflix, desperate to find good background noise. Landing on your favorite show, 'The Good Place,' is enough for you. It's ironic, don't believe in anything after death, or love, and here you are, watching two dead people fall in love.

Halfway through Episode six, the source of entertainment shuts off. You huff; it was getting good too. The remote is behind you, out of reach, so you aren't exactly sure what could've caused this.

"Probably just a glitch," you mumble, turning the TV back on and resuming your minor addiction. This time, you place the remote on the dresser, ensuring no interruptions.

Despite your effort, it happens again; A guttural noise leaves your body. You're broke in a house that's falling apart with no man, pets, and no energy. TV is the one pleasure you have left, and even that is beginning to frustrate you.

Repeating the process, you hold the remote in your hands, eyebrows raised, daring your peace to try and leave again. After a few moments, you sigh in relief as the halfway point passes and set the remote down. As soon as it comes in contact with the plush, black comforter, the TV again fails you.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." You exclaim.

"Ladies shouldn't swear; ain't attractive." A voice bellows from behind you. A shrill shriek is all that is heard as you scramble off the bed. Your eyes search for the source but find nothing. Slowly, you creep toward the bed and snatch up the remote. "Can't go downstairs till morning, and I'm losin' it in here. What a night." You whisper.

A shiver rolls through your body, and you decide it's better to sit on the floor. Again you try with your tv (which you will be returning in the morning), and of course, that doesn't last long.

"Sugarpie, I don't wanna see that junk. If you're gon' watch somethin' in my bed, I suggest it be somethin' good. Not some trash show that don't know the first thing bout bein' dead." The strange voice booms again.

This time when you jump out of your skin and turn to face the intruder, you see what you can only assume to be the world's most accurate Elvis impersonator.

"What the hell are you doin' in my house?!" You screech, "Get out! Get the hell out."

The man before you is nowhere near ready for the projectiles flying his way. Clothes, shoes, books, and a stuffed bear. You name it; it's flying at his head.

"Hey! I—I said—, goddamn! You got an arm on ya! Put the—,"

Elvis can't even finish his sentence as you continue to fling whatever you can at him.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House!" You grunt, each word punctuated with the throw of an object. The tall, blue-eyed stranger ducks and dodges with precision, but when he sees you getting ready to toss a picture frame, one you no doubt failed to realize the importance of in your defensive state, the fun and games stop.

"Drop it! Drop that damn picture right now! Your mama would tan your hide for days if she saw that you broke that frame." Elvis booms.

Your chest is heaving, and you blink, glancing over at the photo.

"S'your daddy, right? Y'all were talkin' in the kitchen bout how it's the last thing he gave ya. You promised ta take care of it. So drop it."

You nod and gently place the photo on the bed, reaching for a good substitute.

"Jus—Just how long have you been here?" you question, ready to launch the lamp in your hand. Elvis ponders for a moment. "What year is it?" He asks, seeming genuine. You quirk an eyebrow, unamused with the game he's playing. "You can't be serious."

He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an actual answer. Your phone is across the room, and the chances of getting past this psycho-wannabe Elvis are slim to none. So, you entertain him. "It's twenty-twenty-three, you should know that." You say, face stoic.

Elvis's eyes widen, "Twenty- Good lord!" He chuckles in disbelief.

"Well, to answer your question lil' mama, if that's true, I've been here for sixty-six years if you're countin' when I bought the house."

You shake your head; there's no way the idiot in front of you is this dedicated. "Yeah, sure, I reckon you want me to believe you're Elvis Presley himself. Is that what this is? Some attempt to scare me?"

Elvis chuckles and shakes his head, "No, ma'am. Ain't no pretendin' round here. I'm the real deal."

You can't help the cackle that slips past your lips.

"My ass!"

Elvis's smirk fades, "I told ya that shit isn't cute. And if ya don't believe me, try to shake my hand." He says, extending the appendage forward.

You scrunch your nose, "Now, why would I do that?"

He shrugs, hand still held out.

"Well, I ain't goin' nowhere for a long time n' you're the first person to see or hear me in ages. Whether ya do or don't, it really ain't too concernin' for me."

You sigh, knowing this is how dumb girls in movies usually meet their end. Can't believe m'doin' this. Shakily, you extend your hand, and when it meets his, it goes right through. You gasp as the limb turns to smoke before materializing again.

"Sweet jesus," you sputter.

"I wouldn't know if he was sweet, I ain't met him yet." Elvis jokes. You back away, very spooked.

"T-This, this isn't possible. Ghosts they—they aren't-"

"Real?" Elvis cuts you off, "Yeah, I heard that part too, jus didn't wanna scare your mama, so I waited till it was jus you n' me."

You scoff, offended, "My mama gets a pass, and I don't?"

He chuckles and sits on the bed, "She believed, you didn't. For someone with a gift this great, ya sure do love ta act like ya don't know what she's talkin' about."

You fold your arms, looking down, "I don't have-"

"Oh, yes ya do. Don't give me none of that. I spent the whole afternoon chit-chattin' with your old man. "

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. "You spoke to my daddy? How is he? Did he ask bout mama? Because she'd be thrilled. I gave up. I knew I shouldn't have. I'd been tryin' to reach him since he died, but he never-" The smug look on Elvis's face shuts you up.

"Well, first off. Why would ya need to call a man who's in the same house as ya? Second, you'd been tryin' so hard to find happiness for a woman who don't need it, that ya pushed your daddy away anytime he tried. A ghost can only do so much without scarin' someone half to death, baby."

This is all too much; Ghosts exist, Elvis Presley is in front of you, and your daddy hasn't moved on. Mama was right. You lift the covers and shimmy under them.

"I need to sleep on this. Jus—I...I don't know where you go, but scram for the night please."

Elvis chuckles, nodding. In a flash, he evaporates, fumes left behind as he finds another room to settle in.

You breathe through your nose as you think. What a night indeed, miss y/n.

Taglist: @prayerstopresley @powerofelvis @re3kin

[isthlsfate]

⌞ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ⌝

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: elvis presley/austin!elvis x black!reader, angst, cheating, slightly toxic!elvis

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

the moment elvis walks through the door, it feels like the ground shakes beneath you, but not in the way you once dreamed it would.

he’s back from deployment, tall and broad-shouldered as ever, his presence commanding the room like it always does.

but there’s something—someone—by his side, a blonde woman with a sparkling smile and a grip on his arm that makes your stomach turn.

her. it’s her.

you stand there, frozen, as your mother, nancy, greets them at the door.

“welcome back, mr. presley,” she says, trying to hide her surprise at the sight of the woman clinging to him.

your heart races, pounding in your ears so loud you barely hear the small talk.

“elvis,” you manage, your voice coming out weaker than you want. he looks over at you, his eyes flicking over your face, and for a moment, you think you see a flicker of recognition, of something—anything—that could explain this.

but he says nothing.

instead, the woman pipes up, beaming.

“you must be nancy’s daughter! elvis has told me so much about you.” her voice is sweet, dripping with condescension, as if she’s already staking her claim in the space you once thought was yours.

“elvis,” you repeat, louder this time, your eyes locked on him, willing him to acknowledge the unspoken truth that’s hanging in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst.

he clears his throat.

“yeah, uh, this is stacey,” he says awkwardly, avoiding your eyes. “we met while i was away.”

“met?” you echo, the word like ash on your tongue. your pulse quickens. “met?”

the betrayal is sharp, slicing through your chest.

“yeah,” stacey chimes in, still clinging to him. “we hit it off right away, didn’t we, satnin?”

she looks up at him adoringly, and you want to scream.

the word hits you like a slap. satnin. that’s what you used to call him, in the quiet of the night when he would sneak into your room, pulling you close and whispering promises he never intended to keep.

the world blurs around you, and all you can focus on is the way she says it—like she owns him, like that name was never yours.

your blood runs cold.

your mother hurries out of the room, sensing the tension, leaving you alone with them. it’s just the three of you now, the air thick and suffocating.

“elvis, what is this?” you ask, stepping forward. “you promised…”

the words choke in your throat, but you won’t let them fall away. not now. not when you’ve kept this secret, this relationship, buried deep for so long.

his jaw tightens.

“i didn’t… i ain’t promise nothin’,” he says, the lie bitter on his lips.

“really?” your voice rises, the anger bubbling to the surface. “that’s what you’re going with? after all the nights you spent sneaking into my room? after everything we—”

“don’t,” he snaps, his eyes finally meeting yours, hard and unyielding. “that was… it ain’t like that.”

“not like that?” you repeat, incredulous. “then what was it, elvis? because you made me believe it was real. you made me believe we had something.”

stacey’s eyes narrow, and she looks between the two of you, sensing the shift.

“wait a minute,” she says, her voice cold now. “what’s going on here? what the hell is she talking about, elvis?”

you glare at her, the heat of your rage burning in your chest.

“i’m talking about the fact that i’ve been with him. that we were together.”

elvis groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“this ain’t the time for this.”

“no, it’s exactly the time!” you shout, your voice shaking. “you come back here with her—like i don’t even exist? after everything we went through?”

stacey crosses her arms, stepping in front of elvis like she’s marking her territory.

“you’re seriously trying to tell me you and elvis were… what? a thing? i don’t believe it. not for a second.”

your chest tightens, the disbelief twisting into something ugly.

“you don’t have to believe it. but it’s the truth.”

elvis stays silent, his gaze fixed on the floor, and the silence feels like a slap in the face. he’s not denying it, but he’s not fighting for you either.

it’s like you’re watching him slip away, out of reach, into the arms of someone who has no idea what the two of you shared.

stacey’s face twists with anger.

“you’re lying. he would’ve told me if you meant anything. he wouldn’t hide something like that from me.”

you laugh, bitter and cold.

“wouldn’t he? that’s all we ever did. hide. sneak around. because he didn’t want anyone to know.”

“that’s enough,” elvis cuts in, his voice harsh. but you’re past the point of caring, past the point of holding back.

“it is not!” the words explode from you, raw and jagged, and the room falls deadly silent.

elvis looks up, his blue eyes wide, startled, and for a brief, flickering moment, you catch a glimpse of the man you thought you knew—the warmth, the softness that once made you feel safe.

just as quickly, it vanishes.

his gaze hardens, turning cold and distant, like a door slamming shut between you, leaving nothing but an icy void where there used to be something real.

stacey’s face twists in confusion and fury.

“is it true, elvis?” she demands, her voice tight. “you were with her? what, was she some side piece to you? the other woman?”

you freeze at the words. other woman. that’s what you are, isn’t it? the secret. the hidden affair that no one talks about. the girl in the shadows while he’s out there, with her.

the realization burns, and you feel the weight of it crushing you from the inside out.

he doesn’t answer, and the silence is all the confirmation she needs.

“unbelievable,” she hisses, turning on him. “you lied to me. about her? about this?”

“it wasn’t like that, honey,” he mutters, but she’s already backing away from him, her face contorted with betrayal.

“wasn’t like that?” you interrupt, your voice shaking with anger and hurt. “you lied to both of us. you made me believe i meant something to you, and now you bring her here? acting like i’m nothing?”

stacey rounds on you, her eyes flashing.

“you think you’re the victim here? you’re nothing but the other woman. he’s with me now, so whatever little fling you had—”

“i am not the other woman!” you scream, the words ripping out of you, raw and jagged. “i was here first!” your voice cracks, and your eyes blur with unshed tears as you stare through elvis like he’s a stranger. “you were mine first!”

the room falls silent at your outburst, the weight of your confession hanging in the air.

elvis stares at you, stunned, his face shadowed with regret and shame and for a brief moment, you see the truth in his eyes. he knows it too. you were his before anyone else. before stacey.

the blonde haired woman doesn’t care. she’s already storming out of the room, her heels clicking angrily against the floor as she mutters curses under her breath.

“elvis!” she snaps as she reaches the door. “you’re a coward. a liar. don’t bother calling me.”

the door slams shut behind her, leaving you and elvis alone, the silence deafening.

you stand there, chest heaving, staring at the man you thought you knew. the man you loved.

but now, you see him for what he is.

“you didn’t even fight for me,” you whisper, your voice trembling as a lone tear slips down your cheek. the weight of the words hangs in the air, heavy and broken. you choke on the emotion clawing at your throat, staring at him through the haze of your tears. “i was yours first, and you didn’t even fight.”

___

taglist ‧₊˚❀༉‧

@dhimpson @ab4eva @crash-and-cure @elvisslut @iloveelvis2 @elvis-presleys-stuff

[undevidedattentionsblog]

It's Valentine's Day where are the fics at???😒

[laneywrld]

austin butler ! elvis presley  masterlist

actively writing

⚠︎ = smut

♥︎ = fluff

✮ = angst 

✮ 1. lose your faith in me | 2. have a little faith in me (austin!elvis x reader)

angst | inspired by The Gold, Phoebe Bridgers !

✮  white dress (austin!elvis x reader)

angst | inspired by White Dress, Lana Del Rey

[buglass]

Lonely Man - A Christmas Oneshot

Summary: A passive and respectful fan encounters a lone Elvis Presley on a beach in the Bahamas while both are on Christmas vacation in 1969. Jackie debates whether or not to bother Elvis, but feels drawn to keep him company.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Jackie!Black!OC

Chapters: 1/1

WC: 907

Warnings: Insinuation of depression, general fluff and kindness, lack of holiday cheer

A/N: Not a big fan of the holidays myself since I’ve always been away from family since I was in the military. Still feeling it a little bit this year so this is how I’m coping lol thanks for reading!

Unexpected Chapter 2.

December 25th, 1969

❆   ❆   ❆

When she spotted him, she didn’t think it was actually Elvis Presley. The black dress shirt he wore was a stark contrast to his skin and white trousers. Keeping up with the whereabouts of celebrities wasn’t her forte and this man, only seeing him from his side profile, looked slightly less like the spruced up version the world had come to know. Don’t get her wrong--she still thought the man seated in the sand was handsome but a lot paler than she would have expected for a Bahamian vacation in the sun. 

Elvis hunched forward with his feet buried in the sand, his sleeved arms wrapped around his pant-covered legs as he looked out to the water. Jackie was between a rock and a hard place on the mostly empty beach. When a woman and her family came from the opposite direction, they didn’t waste time to make their approach to Elvis. It wasn’t their fault they stumbled upon him either. Because they too were on vacation, they actually had a camera on hand to commemorate the once in a lifetime event. 

Jackie slowed down, busying herself with the wispy skirt blowing in the wind and the straps of the shoes she held. She faced the water as she took the hair tie from her wrist and tied her hair back into a ponytail. There were a total of three snaps she could hear from the camera, Elvis standing there for each picture both posed and candid. Elvis hunched over, waving to the blonde little girl who was probably only about four years-old. As the fans left, he stood up straight and looked around as if he were expecting a floodgate of fans to follow. 

They were alone again.

Jackie started down the beach again, veering toward where the water could wash over her feet. When she glanced up again, Elvis was looking at her. His hands were at his back, sliding lower into what she assumed was his back pockets. She became highly aware that he was overly dressed for the beach while she wore a bikini, her lower half shrouded by the long, breathable skirt that in the right light showed some leg. Elvis moved in her path and her heart rate picked up knowing that her only option was to walk around the singer. 

Her eyes dipped toward his chest and the hair there, coming back up the closer she got to him. When the two of them were face to face, Elvis’s mouth curled into a smirk. 

“What do I owe the pleasure of your attention, Mr. Presley?” Jackie spoke casually as if they were old friends. 

“I was gettin’ ready to ask you the same. I saw you down the beach before all of that.” Elvis admitted, dropping his arms to his sides.

“I think you’re the one stopping me for my attention now,” she laughed, stepping around the man for the sake of making him follow. “I will leave you to it.”

“Hey, wait-wait a minute,” Elvis said, turning after her to walk at her side. “Can’t you stay for a while?”

“I was just making sure you didn’t feel obligated to have company, Mr. Presley--”

“Elvis, just Elvis.” He put up his hands.

“Alright, Elvis. But, as I was saying, I don’t want you to feel…bombarded.” Jackie said. She slowed up to face him, admiring how he towered over her and his general warmth. Fuck, he was good looking, she thought.

“It’s never any bother, but I could use the company. If you don’t mind?” Elvis gestured toward the sand. 

Jackie squinted up at him, skeptical of what someone of his caliber would want with her. She swept her skirt as she lowered into the sand, dropping her sandals at her side. Elvis followed suit only after she was seated and he sighed as he looked out toward the water again. 

“What’s your name?” Elvis asked.

“Jacqueline, but I prefer Jackie.” She explained softly.

“Well, Jackie, what’s more fittin’ of the Christmas Spirit than spendin’ time with a stranger?” Elvis chuckled.

“I… I think some would say the opposite, but ‘tis the season.” Jackie laughed. She was pleased by his easiness, the way he was turning a moment that clearly bothered him into a positive. She looked at him square in his face and furrowed her brows after a second. “So…why are you alone out here on Christmas?”

“Sometimes it’s good to learn to live with yourself, honey,” was all he said at first. “... But I s’pose I’m not very good at it after all.”

Jackie gave him a sidelong look for a second longer before slowly reaching for the exposed part of his arm. She understood the dreariness of the holidays tended to outweigh the excitement of gift-giving and cheeriness. When she looked at him, she saw a man that was far, far away. Elvis finally looked at her and she caught the sadness in his eyes. She would have thought someone as successful as him was immune to feeling down. But when she squeezed his wrist and his arm moved so they were holding hands, Jackie was reminded of just how human the superstar was.

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. This is just a bad day, not a bad life.” She promised gently.

“Thank you, Jackie. Merry Christmas.” He gave her a small smile.

“Merry Christmas, Elvis,” she said, leaning over to press a reassuring kiss to his cheek.