#ive barely been getting notes on my fics lately so wowee that really hurt to delete by accident going to cry real quick

[star-shard]

Lace Flowers

Elvis x Reader 

Premise: You’ve been seeing this nice boy you met at Club Handy for a little while now, having fun. One night, he comes to you with a very specific request. He’d like to lose his virginity to you.

Note: NSFW, first time, soft smut

masterlist

You’d met some curious boys at Club Handy before, lots of young guys with a lot of energy were drawn to the sound, the lights, this vibe it held like something was always happening. And you’d had your fun with them. But, Elvis was a little special. He didn’t show up to drink or cause trouble. He was there, it seemed, solely for the music. 

Like it drew him in and he just stayed as long as he could. Of course you noticed him, he looked like a window display at Lansky’s. For someone on the quiet side, he seemed very aware of his presentation. Right down to that long hair of his that on some nights, was more hair product than hair. Yet, he never looked like a boy playing dress up, or someone just sampling the scene. He really took it seriously.

You were happy to find out though, he was not too serious of a guy. He smiled, he laughed, and he could get this mischievous look in his eye whenever the sound got particularly hot. Maybe it was when the two of you hollered at the same time when Big Mama Thornton hit a particularly simmering note, that’s when he saw you. 

And there was that smile.

And yes, you noticed. Every night he came back, he was sitting a little closer to you. Trying to get up some courage. Until it finally came out in a comment on how that guitar player was really hitting it tonight. You agreed, and oh his smile got bigger when you talked. 

Sure maybe you didn’t have long conversations in a club this loud, but whenever the two of you got a word in, you practically had to talk over each other just to get in as much as you could. It was playful. 

You supposed you were going ‘steady’ when he arrived first one night, and saved you a seat. He held your hand. He didn’t mind if people noticed, here you could be whatever you wanted to be. It was all so innocent, there was this tender hearted quality about him. The type of boy that knew he’d want a wedding someday. 

It must have startled him a little when you told him you’d like him to come to your apartment. You promised him it wasn’t for a drink or anything, just a place you could get to know each other. And you meant it. No funny business. You didn’t want to mess up that smile he had on.

Now, you came to your place for some piece and quiet, but the record player ended up spinning anyway. You just couldn’t help yourselves. He talked about gospel a lot, about these singers called the Blackwell Brothers. He got excited about it. And in turn, you showed him some of your tastes.

Even when you didn’t perfectly align on where you thought music was going, you both knew that right about now, there might be something new coming. With some crazy radio DJs spinning what they did nowadays. 

But, you didn’t always talk about the music. Sometimes, he’d just sit next to you on your couch, and you’d look out at the lace curtains blowing in a summer breeze, and you’d talk about your day. And he’d just, kiss you. On the cheek, sometimes the lips. 

Your age difference was minimal. But, you had a feeling he wasn’t very experienced. Perhaps just being a good Christian boy, waiting for the right time. You didn’t mind keeping it friendly. Though sometimes when the light hit that pretty face just right and his blue eyes looked all doe like, you couldn’t help but want a little more. 

You never pushed. You just wanted.

Now, the way it usually went, Elvis would meet you at the Club and you’d come back to yours to close off the night. But, this time he didn’t show up for the show. Not completely unusual, he wasn’t there every single night without fail. He had his job and needed sleep sometimes after all.

But tonight, he showed up to your place first. A gentle knock on the door. You had a record on, and had just poured yourself a little tea for the evening. You felt a little embarrassed that you weren’t all dressed up when you saw him. Because he certainly was.

He had on this pink lace shirt, with white pants with a black stripe down the sides, and a bolero jacket that looked brand new. Meanwhile you’d already slipped off your stockings and had taken down your hair for the night. And in his hand, were some flowers. 

They looked freshly picked, you even recognized some from your walk home from work. “Well, ain’t you a sight,” you said dotingly.

“I shook any bugs off,” he noted as he handed them to you, “it might have bent some of the stems…” He seemed a little embarrassed that they were a tad make shift, but you treated them like they were roses, going to get a nice vase.

“They’re pretty as you,” you smiled, kissed him, and gestured for him to come on in. Now usually he’d make himself at home, hang up his jacket. But he seemed a little stiff as he took his usual spot on the couch, his shaking leg had always been restless for as long as you knew him but it seemed to be in double time tonight.

With the present proudly displayed on the kitchen table, you asked, “You might just put a hole in the rug, sugar,” you pointed out, pouring a cup of tea for him as well since the water was still hot. You knew he liked it with lemon. 

He sat down on the couch and you were close behind, setting down the cups on the side table.

You gave his neck a little rub to ease him now. And it seemed getting into your usual routine of casual chatting got him to relax a little, but this boy clearly had a little something on his mind. And perhaps, was a little too modest to bring it up. 

So, you got in a little closer, and you held his hand. He held yours back as you leaned in to make him feel comfortable. “You know I already like you, right?” You asked, which got a nervous laugh out of him. “Why don’t you tell me what’s got you all dressed up for me.”

His fingers nervously clenched and unclenched in your palm, and he nodded. “Well… you see, I was thinking about, last time we were kissing. I got,” he rolled his tongue in his cheek. He didn’t have much experience getting into ‘vulgar language’ around a lady. “Excited, I guess.” 

You didn’t see anything wrong with that. If anything, the way you saw it, “the feeling was mutual.”

He looked at you with a hopeful little expression, relieved that you weren’t about to be scared off with the request that was coming next. “I just think you’re so pretty,” he continued, he must have had this all thought out in his mind, just what to say. You could see the rehearsal somewhere in how he talked. “I’ve never, been with a woman.” 

You knew, but didn’t say. Just, “there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Now he’d go in for the kill, and you waited patiently until he was ready to really say it. “I want it to be with you, my… first time.” Oh, you could just kiss him right now. This was part of why you liked this boy. He didn’t put on airs when you were alone. Didn’t pretend about what he didn’t know.

And you were glad for it, honest right where it counted. “I think that’s just about the most lovely way we could spend tonight,” you said kindly. And you felt mighty special too, he may have asked like it was a favor. But it was more than that. You both knew it.

With an understanding replacing any tension, Elvis felt well enough to let his jacket come off, shrugged slow as if being sure you weren’t going to change your mind. But, you just watched, you watched as he settled himself. You could see his skin peak through that shirt of his. He put a lot of thought into what he’d wear… he knew you loved flowers. 

And maybe it was anticipation, he looked a little nervous about where to begin. From what he described, you had an idea. You leaned in and started with a slow kiss, the scent of lemon was between you. And he met you as he always did, with this exposed nature, like you were all there was. And like most nights on this couch together, something about love was playing on your turntable. 

While at this point at any other night, he might get himself to pull away before it could go further, he let himself stay. He let himself slip into a state of mind in which he wanted to touch and be touched.

A hand ran through your hair, down your cheek. 

But instead of going anywhere else, it hovered, just below your neck, your collar bone. And he was looking down. If he was waiting for permission, you would assure him that this was beyond just a lesson. This was a first time. 

“Feel me,” you told him against his lips, “Find me…” 

And his hand was now on your chest, high and then down to your breast. And he did what you said, he did what he had been wanting to do. He felt you. You let out a sigh. He was gentle, you’d call it loving.

And in response, you put your hand on him. The lace was intricate and the feeling of his warm skin came through. The pink of the shirt, the pink of his skin, and in those white pants, his interest was easy to see. This was the excitement that had been on his mind.

And so, you let your hand slide down, from his pecs to his soft belly. He only broke away from the kiss so he could gasp when your hand found it’s way between his legs. He was already semi hard under the first touch. His sensitivity showed up when he broke from the kiss, overwhelmed. 

You smiled and let him rest his forehead on your shoulder. “That’s it…,” you murmured to him. “I’ve got you.” He nodded against you and you could almost feel his cheeks turn red against you as you stroked the outside of his pants, letting him get harder.

His hips jerked. And he made a noise. “It’s different,” it was almost a whimper. You took him out of his pants, to see him wanting you.

“Different when you’re with me?” You asked, he must have touched himself alone before. It was different in privacy. You could hide whatever expression you wanted to. With you? Elvis wouldn’t have to hide and he certainly wasn’t alone. With a caring gesture, you eased him out from where he his his face. And you saw him. His eyes half lidded, and he was absolutely rosy, lit up. That perfect hair had fallen into imperfect bangs, and showed an Elvis you already knew… only magnified. 

“Just feels… warmer,” he described. You nodded, you understood. You felt just what he felt, he wasn’t your first. But it was the first time you’d see him fully. As he was, as he could be. There was no wandering thoughts or looks away as things got too close. The music, his sound, held you. His neck stretched away from the collar of his shirt and you knew what he needed. 

You left him hard there, his shirt was going to come off now. Button by button until the pink flowers that adorned him slipped away. The record skipped a beat, so did your heart. And now, your turn. He watched as what covered you came away. Now you were both bare chested and for the first time this summer, the night air breeze was enough to make you both shiver. 

Yet he didn’t look desperate, he let you lead. 

You stood up, your skirt falling next, a flow of red fabric coming down to the floor. And you let him put his hands on your hips, easing them with your own and rubbing him assuredly, sliding down your underwear together. “You’re… so wonderful.” He looked right similar to how he did when he prayed. But, different. There was no other higher power in the room.

And when your hand went between your legs, his was close to follow, seeing how your wrist moved… and the same way he picked up the guitar, he understood where to press just by watching. He was still new, and he was eager to impress you now. But, there was plenty of time. You just loved that he was touching you just as he was right in the moment.

And when you put your knee on the couch, you could see him breathing get deeper, rising and falling. You were slow in your movement, your knee now on the other side of him. You held yourself up, it’d be a slow ride. But, with how sensitive Elvis looked, slow and smooth was just the speed he needed. At this holding position, he was able to kiss your breasts, waiting until you lowered down onto him. 

Then he let out a groan that you let out as well. And now it was your turn to rise and fall. Up and down where he sat, he was warm and perfect inside of you. And you put your hands on his shoulders, looking so deep into his blue eyes that were putting the full moon to shame. He was here, yet gone, and so deep into pleasure all he could do was moan.

“Elvis,” you sighed out, “Elvis.” And it was hearing you, just as you went down again that got him able to say just one word, twice.

 “I’m- I’m,” and you knew what that meant. You could feel it in his tightening body. You lifted yourself up just in time and he came. It shot up before dripping back down onto him. And any tension he’d ever had was gone in this moment. 

He was breathless and weakly held your hands, you took the invitation to curl up against him, just as content, just at the end of a release.

And the two of you held each other, Elvis kissing you like he always had but it was different now. Your bodies were absolutely intwined. And music played like it always had when the two of you were together. In which almost everything was a love song.