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#austin!elvis smut
cilliansmesoftly · 1 year
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all mine
summary: you told austin if he won the golden globe that you’d let him do anything to you.
warnings: smut, oral (fem & male receiving), throat fucking, bondage, orgasm denial, overstimulation, spit, choking, etc.
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you lazily sat atop austin’s lap, lips pressed to his neck, breathing heavy and moaning softly every now and then when you ground your hips into his. your lips found their way to his ear where you whispered, “if you win tomorrow night, i’ll let you do anything you want to me.” you ended your sentence with a peck to his lobe and austin strangled out a moan.
“guess i have all the more reason to try and win, don’t i, doll?”
༉‧₊˚✧
your eyes closed, fingers crossed, praying to anything that could hear you.
“…and the award goes to….” the presenter, liticia wright, dragged. your hand was intertwined with austin’s, ready to face whatever happened next.
“austin butler.” your head snapped over to your boyfriend, your other half, his head was bowed and you could tell he was already holding back tears of joy. he put his life into this movie. he risked his relationship with you, his family, his friends, everything. and it was finally paying off.
you, along with everyone at the table stood up in a standing ovation. austin gave his sister, ashley, a hug first with a kiss pressed to her cheek, then to baz who looked like the proudest person to ever exist. and finally, he turned to you. his smile was wide and he hugged the life out of you, whispering his gratitude and love before he pulled away, not without leaving a searing kiss to your lips. you wiped under your eyes, laughing along with ashley.
you watched as he made his way up to the stage, shaking hands with quentin tarantino and brad pitt on his way up. his speech was beautiful and you couldn’t help but to shed a few tears during it. the crowed erupted with applause once again when he was finished and you couldn’t wait to see your boy, your winner, again in a few moments.
༉‧₊˚✧
you and austin attended the after-party for a little while, before you both decided to go home. you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. his hands were either always clutching yours or attached to your waist, never leaving his side for a second.
“you remember our deal?” austin asked you on the way home, hand on your thigh and music playing softly from the radio.
“hm?” your brows furrowed before they shot up in realization. “aren’t you tired?”
“i couldn’t sleep right now even if someone injected melatonin into my veins.” you laughed at this, you were both pretty wired from all the adrenaline and you were getting heated just from the thought of what he’d planned.
“anything you want, baby.” you patted the hand that was on your thigh and leaned over to kiss his cheek.
“good thing we’re here, don’t know how much longer i can go without touching you.” you squirmed at his words, cheeks tinting a shade a pink. the driveway seemed to go on for too long and you took your seatbelt off as soon as the car was in park. you stepped out of the car, waiting for austin to join you at your side. he held his award in one hand and reached for yours with his other. the two of you giggling like kids all through the house.
you kicked off your heels at the door, telling austin you were going to the bathroom. you turned down the hallway, hiking up your dress a bit so you didn’t trip and made your way to the master bath. austin came in right after you, seeing you struggle with the clasp of your necklace.
“let me.” he said gently, moving your hair off your neck and his touch sent chills up your spine. he undid the clasp and pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade. you turned to him, your hands going around his neck. he dragged his fingers from your wrists, to your shoulders and settling around your hips. he leaned down, capturing your lips into a sweet kiss. you wanted more, needed more. your hand pushed his head back towards you when he tried to pull away, your tongue tracing his bottom lip and he sighed at the contact, gripping your waist tighter. he wrapped his arms around your frame, hoisting you up onto the counter and your spread your legs for him to stand between them, the kiss never breaking.
“my winner.” you whispered, dragging your kiss to his neck, licking and sucking at every area of skin that was visible to you. “so talented, so fucking gorgeous. let me show you how much you mean to me.” austin groaned at your words, his head leaning back when he felt you slide off the counter, body right against his. you pushed him back just a bit and knelt down in front of him. you untucked his button-up, pulling his belt loose and watching his pants fall to the floor. his cock was begging for attention, hard and up against the waistband of his boxers. you palmed him over the fabric, hearing him hiss above you.
“so pretty, on your knees just for me. all mine. isn’t that right, baby?” austin’s words were quick and hoarse in his throat, neediness coating every syllable.
“all yours, honey.” you confirmed, looking up to make eye contact with the blonde as you tantalizingly pulled his boxers down.
“thought our deal was i could get to do whatever i wanted to you. not the other way around.” austin teased, jaw clenching as you licked the tip.
“you don’t want this?” you asked innocently, pretending to stand up, but austin laid a firm hand on your shoulder to keep you from getting up.
“don’t even fucking think about it.” he gritted and you smiled, going back licking the tip of his cock, leading up to the shaft and taking him wholly. he moaned your name, fingers gathering your hair into a ponytail to keep it out of your face. “let me fuck your throat, darlin’”
you responded by opening your mouth wider, relaxing your throat and letting him thrust into your mouth, you gagged around him, nails digging into his thigh. the pain only pushed him further, thrusting softly into your mouth. you squeezed your legs together, wetness surely seeping out your barely-there underwear. you dropped one of your hands that was on his thigh went to soothe your aching clit, trying to get any sort of pleasure.
“nope, can’t touch yourself yet, honey. wait until i tell you to do something. can you do that?” his tone was mocking and you looked up at him through your lashes, nodding. “such a good girl, i’m already close.” he pushed further into your mouth, thrusting a bit harder. he twitched into your mouth before pulling out and letting you jerk him off. your mouth was open wide, waiting greedily for all he had to give you. you sucked the tip, wrapping your hand around the rest of him and he came with a soft cry of your name, his cum spilling into your mouth and you swallowed all of it, milking his orgasm. “get undressed and get on the bed, i’ll be back in a second.” austin muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, tasting himself on your tongue.
you did as told as quickly as you could, slipping off your dress and drenched underwear. your wardrobe didn’t require you to wear a bra and you thanked the time saver. you walked over to the bed, sitting on your knees and patiently waited for austin to return to you.
it didn’t take long for him to come back to the bedroom, a black box in hand. you scrunched your brows in confusion. he laid the box on the nightstand and stood in front of you, he took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie before taking it off, too. his index finger and thumb gripped your chin and tilted your head up, he leaned down to kiss you. you tried to wrap your arms around him, but he pushed them back.
“no touching, no noises, and do not come until i tell you to. understood, princess?” austin whispered against your lips and your jaw dropped. this was something the two of you have never tried within the years of dating. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you even more heated, legs clenching in a desperate attempt to get any sort of pressure to yourself. you nodded, despite the nerves settled deep within your chest and austin hummed while smiling softly. “so good for me.” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “lay down, honey.”
and you did, you sat back so your head was just below where the headboard started and you laid your head comfortably on the pillow underneath. austin admired the sight in front of him for a few moments. you sprawled out, hair splayed on the pillows, legs smooth bent at the knees, arms outstretched the length of the bed. your lips, plump from all the kissing you two had done tonight, cheeks flushed, and eyes dazzling under the soft glow of the lamps on either side of the bed. you were a dream in austin’s eyes. so perfect and so pretty, he had never met anyone who made him feel the way you make him feel.
“take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you teased, biting away the smile that pulled at your lips. austin chuckled breathlessly and nodded. he grabbed the black box from the nightstand and set it beside you. you watched him take the top off, an array of items were tossed in and your eyes widened at the sensual black silk ties he pulled out. he looked up at you, asking silent confirmations and you nodded slowly.
“arms up, angel.” he knelt down beside you and you put your wrists together and brought them over your head. austin kissed each wrist before tying the silk around them and set them onto the bed post in the middle of the headboard. “not too tight?” you shook your head. he set the top of the box over it and discarded it back to the nightstand. he walked over to the center of the bed, admiring your submissive state, then laying down in front of you. you squirmed, just wanting his mouth, his fingers, anything. “be still.” he said, setting an arm over your hips to stall your movements. he blew onto your bare wetness, you shivered at the cool air. austin slowly, teasingly dragged his tongue up your slit, collecting all the arousal you had and you bit your lip to contain the sounds you so desperately wanted to make. “such a good girl, being so quiet.”
he halted his teasing by closing his lips around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud and moaning around you. he always thought you tasted so good, like fucking candy. he could never get enough of you. he focused his attention on your clit, his fingers finding your entrance and teasing you by prodding the tips of his fingers at your hole, but never going in. you huffed, back arching off the bed as he laughed around your bud, the vibration driving you to near insanity. he finally decided to give in to you, his fingers sinking deep in you and you gasped as he hit your g-spot. if you knew you wouldn’t get in trouble, you’d be almost yelling at the pleasure you were feeling, but you decided to play it safe.
just as quickly as austin dipped his fingers in, he pulled them out, replacing them with his tongue. he licked and slurped like this life depended on it, his nose was brushing your clit and he shook his head back and forth to give it some stimulation. the sensation was all too much and austin could tell you were close by how your breathing shallowed and your back arched higher and higher off the bed.
“don’t cum.” he warned. and you whined, the sound coming out as a choked sob. “you’re doing so good baby, just give me a few more minutes.” you pulled and tugged at the ties around your wrists, you wanted to touch him so badly. you wanted to hold his head to your center until you finished, you wanted to tug his hair how you knew he loved so deeply. you writhed and writhed, your orgasm approaching you faster than you could stop it. austin’s fingers were back inside you, thrusting and scissoring, his mouth was around your clit again. he was moaning around you on purpose, knowing it would bring you closer and closer to tipping off the edge. your thighs were shaking and your wrists were getting sore from how hard you were pulling. you were surprised the bed post didn’t break at the base. “okay, honey. let it go. all over me, on my tongue. can’t wait for you to cum all over my cock, sweet girl.” his words pushed you over the edge. your moans were nearly pornographic, your toes were curled, your head was lulled back against the bed, and austin nearly came just from the scene.
he stood back, taking off his dress shirt. he wiped his mouth off that was cover in your slick, licking his fingers. he leaned over you, skillfully untying the black silk and your hands immediately came to the sides of his face, bringing him down to kiss you. you moaned into it, his tongue pushed its way past your lips and massaged everywhere it could reach.
you could feel austin lining his cock with your entrance and let a drawn out moan as he pushed himself in. his head found solace in the space between your head and shoulder, leaving loving kisses while he waited for you to adjust around him.
“fuck me, austin.” you whispered into his ear, kissing just below it. you pushed his hair back away from his face, admiring his beauty. he was the embodiment of sunshine and you could never get away from him. he was like a drug, a euphoric drug that you never wanted to get sober of. “i’m all yours.”
“all mine.” he confirmed before pulling out and slamming back into you. you tossed your head back, your eyes clenched in pleasure. as he found his pace, you wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts and forcing him deeper into you. he pulled back, sitting on his knees, to look at where you met. he locked in on the sight of your greed pussy taking him whole and you leaned up on your elbows to gaze as well. his hands trailed from your ankle, to your thigh, hoisting it back up around his waist to hit a new angle and fuck, you thought you were going to pass out.
“god, aus. fucking me so good, always take care of me. should win an award for best cock, jesus christ.” you praised through gritted teeth, falling on your back again. austin leaned your other leg back so it was closer to your head. you couldn’t form a single syllable, eyes rolling back and your second orgasm was near. you clenched around him, causing him to groan and tighten his grip on your legs.
“look at this perfect pussy, god. you’re so beautiful. taking me so well, letting me use you.” his words only turned you on further, your clenching was a silent message to him that you were close to coming. “hold out a second, baby. i’m almost there.”
“together?” you question sounded more like a statement and austin nodded, thrusting faster and harder into you. your fingers intertwined with his that was holding your leg. your stomach was churning, the pleasure becoming too much.
“ready?” you nodded, close to screaming. “1, 2, 3–” you felt his warmth fill you up, pushing you over the edge. your entire body was convulsing from the overstimulation, yours and austin’s juices dripping out of you and austin brought his finger up to gather some of it before letting you taste it. he marveled at the sight of you, so fucked out and so, so pretty. he leaned up, telling you to open your mouth and you did. his tongue dragged from your chin to your lips sensually before spitting into your open mouth. you swallowed it and austin smiled. “get up, want you to ride me.”
“aus, i can’t take—” he stopped your words by pressing a kiss to your lips and flipping the two of you over with ease. he was still inside you and the new angle caused him to hilt at your g-spot even sitting still. you huffed out a breath of pleasure, slowly beginning to bounce up and down on him. sounds of skin hitting skin and your wetness made austin impossibly harder and he had to bite his lip to hold off on finishing before you even started to ride him.
you already felt the exhaustion enter your body from all the previous orgasms austin pulled out of you. after the first few seconds, austin notice how you slowed down on him, just beginning to grind over his length. you hummed, mouth closed in a tight line as his tamed patch of hair brushed and tickled your clit. austin watched, wide-eyed, practically drooling over you. he brought his hands to your waist, lifting his hips up to trust into you. you cried out, his tip hitting your spot over and over again. you were seeing stars, your hand went to the headboard for support and austin took the opportunity to kiss, lick, bite, and suck at your tits. so perfect and perky, all his. he would never let you go.
“jesus, austin. fuck! i’m so close, baby.” you moaned, letting your hand travel down to your clit, rubbing circles over the bud. your thighs were spasming, your cunt clenching his cock more and more with every quick thrust.
“me, too, honey. come all over my cock, baby. just for me, give it all to me.” austin grunted into your ear, leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck. you came with cries of his name leaving your lips and that alone brought austin to his edge, eyes clenching shut, teeth grinding against each other, and heart pounding against his chest like a hammer.
you caught your breath, austin still inside you. he was kissing you sweetly, all over your chest, neck, shoulders, anywhere he could reach.
“i love you. my winner.” you grinned, forehead pressed against his.
“i love you, more. with all my heart and then some. all mine, pretty girl.”
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foreverdolly · 2 years
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wanna play house | protective austin!elvis x reader
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this is a continuation of 'my bestest girl', but you do not have to read it first in order to read this one. . . however i implore you to do so.
summary: elvis's mother has been worried sick about your safety during your time on the road with her son. you and elvis brush it off as her just being paranoid, but danger always manages to rear it's ugly head at the worst of times. elvis, seeing you scared and slightly injured, absolutely loses it.
pairings: protective austin!elvis x reader
word count: 7,471
warnings/notes: SMUT! ,violence, elvis beats the shit out of someone for you and it's hot, oral (f receiving), elvis literally worships you as though you are a goddess and i love that for you, you both cry while he eats you out because emotions are high and he's obsessed with you.
masterlist | requests are currently closed !
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It had been a pain in the ass to talk the Colonel into letting you come along with him and the band as they performed with Hank Snow for the fair, but Elvis had made it happen. The two of you had only been going out officially for the last couple of weeks, but it was obvious to anyone with eyes that the two of you were disgustingly in love with one another. If you were within eyesight then Elvis was looking at you. If you were in the other room, he was bound to follow after you like a lost dog. If you weren’t around at all, then he was surely thinking about you. It was a never ending cycle, really. You were just as bad off as Elvis was. You always had to be touching him, whether it be your hand in his, your shoulder pressed against him, or even your legs thrown up into his lap. The bandmates were positive that eventual drama would arise, but the two of you always seemed to be in high spirits. 
The screaming fans didn’t bother you, not when Elvis went out of his way to let you know that you were the only girl that he truly cared about. Everyone had fallen into a comfortable pattern, you included. “Yes ma’am. I’m makin’ sure he’s eatin’ well.” You twirled the wire of the hotel landline around your finger, watching the ebony haired boy getting dressed out of the corner of your eye. He was buttoning up his white slacks and caught your heady gaze in the mirror. With a wide smile he wordlessly made his way over to you, chuckling under his breath as you quickly reached out, running your free hand over his chest and giving his nipple a teasing squeeze. He playfully swatted your hand away, reaching down to grab his lace shirt off of the queen sized bed the two of you were sharing that night. “I’m just worried to death about the two of you, baby. I don’t want any of those girls hurtin’ him. . . and I know how horrible some boys can be.” Gladys’s love knew no bounds, and you appreciated her for it. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a little though, leaning your hip up against the desk that had been squeezed into the small room. 
“I’m keepin’ a very close eye on him, darlin’. You know I wouldn’t ever let anythin’ happen to our boy, right? Besides, we’re out in the country. I’m sure nothin’ bad will happen all the way out here. The scariest thing we’ve seen these last four days have been a couple of drunks.” Elvis chuckled from the bathroom, the sink turning on as he began slicking back his hair. You could already smell his Brylcreem pomade from where you stood across the suite. “Now is he keepin’ a close eye on you? At the end of the day, I know Elvis can hold his own. You’re a different story.” You couldn’t remember a single time that you had felt unsafe thus far on the trip. Really, you knew that she had the propensity to overreact, but she had been going on for the better part of half an hour at this point. You were trying to be patient with her, but you could only take so much. Gladys was worse than your own mother, and you weren’t sure how that feat was even possible. “Mama, I don’t need any sort of protection. I can hold my own! Cross my heart and hope to die.” You could hear her scoff, but Vernon’s low voice whispered on the other end. “Stop holding our youngins hostage. Elvis has got a show to put on.” You had already started walking in the direction of the bathroom, stretching the phone cord as far as it would let you. “Do you want to talk to Elvis before we have to leave?” “Would you put him on? Thank ya, baby.” Elvis held up his wax coated hands to show you that he needed some help, so you pressed the phone against his ear for him. 
“Hey, Satnin.” He purred to her, shooting you a small smile before letting his eyes fall down to the counter. You couldn’t hear Gladys’s voice from where you stood, but judging by the way he was nodding his head up and down dully, you were sure that he was getting an earful. “Uh-huh. . . No, I’ve been lookin’ out for her. She stands at the front of all of my shows, mama. I’d die if somethin’ were to happen to her.” You smiled down at the floor, biting at the inside of your cheeks in the hopes of getting your heart back under control- it was fluttering at a maddening pace. “She’s with me every second of the day. She never leaves my sight, I promise ya- He what? Daddy wants to talk to me? Put him on.” Elvis placed his comb down on the side of the sink, licking his lips before looking at himself in the mirror. He must not have liked what he saw because he grimaced, shooting your reflection a goofy look as he waited for his father to get to the phone. “Hello?” A couple of seconds passed before he was rolling his eyes, shaking his head back and forth. “I’d kill em’. Simple as that. I promise you both that I won’t ever let anythin’ happen to her. . . Yeah- Yeah, she is our girl, so imma take good care of her.” He was running the comb back through his hair, tucking a few strands into place absentmindedly. After a few more seconds passed he turned his cheek, pressing his lips up against the receiver and mumbling a quick “love ya too” before giving you a look. You walked back into the hotel room, hanging up the phone before turning to face the bathroom. 
“What are they goin’ on about?” You asked, hurriedly getting out your own suitcase so that you could get dressed. You had been on the phone so long with Gladys that you hadn’t had any time to get ready for the concert. Elvis was particular about certain things, and he liked the idea of you guys matching when he performed. If he wore a baby blue shirt, then you wore a baby blue dress. If he was dressed in all black and white- like tonight- then you did as well. You didn’t mind much. It looked wonderful in pictures, and it made you feel even more connected to him. It warmed your heart that he liked not only being a couple, but looking like a couple too. He had always been very particular about the clothes that he wore. Despite the fact that you also came from a working class family, things had never gotten as financially troublesome as it had for the Presleys. Elvis had grown up poor, but he always made a point not to look it. His mother always made sure his clothes were freshly ironed and pressed and that his shoes were always shined. 
Elvis had always been a rather particular fellow, and he hadn’t always been celebrated for it. People calling him a “fairy” or “squirrel” didn’t get to him though. Not anymore, at least. He was above the name calling, coming to the conclusion that it said far more about their own character than it did his. He always handled it relatively well back in high school, though he knew that most of the name calling and trash talk stemmed from the fact that the other boys his age were probably just jealous. 
“Mama said she’s been havin’ a bad feelin’ about somethin’ lately. They’re both worried about ya, is all.” Elvis had always been over cautious with you, even throughout your friendship. If he didn’t seem worried about it, then you wouldn’t be either. “She’s been a nervous wreck ever since you told her about the Louisiana Hayride. She’s probably just feelin’ a bit anxious.” He hummed his agreeance, a comfortable silence befalling the two of you as you began getting changed. Your dress was a rather scandalous little diddy, what with the rather low cut heart-shaped neckline and the way the hem was just above your knees, showing off your legs. It was something you had purchased for yourself months ago but had been unable to wear due to your parents' rather conservative ways. You pushed your way into the bathroom at the same time that Elvis was finishing up with his hair, his eyes instantly locking on your reflection in the mirror. “Good god almighty.” He mumbled, dropping the comb back onto the counter so that he could turn around and face you. His blue eyes trailed over your smaller frame, his lips parted as he took in the sight of you. Elvis had made it a point to explore every inch of you over the last few weeks. He took his time committing every mole and freckle to memory. He was certain that he could draw you with his eyes closed, and the man could barely sketch a stick figure. 
Despite that, every time he made love to you, or even got a glimpse of you, it still felt like the first time. His stomach would fill with butterflies, his palms would start to sweat, and his pants would grow impossibly tight. In all the years that he had known you, never had he seen you in a dress like this. The sweet little babydoll nighties you’d prance around his room in were a completely different story. This was a masterpiece. You were a masterpiece. “You’ve got me sweatin’ worse than a whore in church. God damn it, my girl is so beautiful.” He lifted his hand up to his face, biting down on his knuckle with a small grin. You couldn’t help but blush at the sudden onslaught of compliments, shyly waving him off with a small flick of your wrist. There wasn’t much room in the tiny motel bathroom, so you couldn’t duck away from his arms even if you wanted to. He was quick to pull you towards him, his hands moving over the cinched waistline of the dress, slowly brushing down to run his fingers along the hip. You shivered as you felt his touch against the skin of your thighs. 
“How ‘bout we just stay in, hmm? I could tell the Colonel that I got food poisonin’ or somethin’.” It was nearly possible to deny him of anything he wanted, especially when he looked at you like that. Ever so slowly he began backing you up, smiling smugly as you let out a small yelp whenever your back hit the wall behind you. “Let me make love to you, yeah? I’ll make it quick. I promise-” A knock at the door made the both of you jump, but he soon threw his head back with an exasperated groan, his eyes screwed shut. “What is it?” He called, popping his head out of the bathroom door so that the intruder might hear him better. “We’re startin’ to pack the cars up, EP. You two dressed and ready yet?” You bit your lip as you pressed your back tighter against the wall, hoping that the added space between you and your beau might calm the growing heat between your legs. “Shit.” Elvis cursed, giving you an apologetic look before taking a step back from you. He looked down at the front of his trousers, wincing as he noticed that he was visibly hard. He took a couple of seconds to try and adjust himself in a way that wouldn’t make it so obvious, but gave up after a while. “I’m comin’. Give me one second Scotty.” He brushed past you on his way to the door, giving you one last suggestive look before prying his gaze away. He opened the door just a sliver, hiding his bottom half the best he could.
 “You don’t even have your shoes on yet. What the hell have you been doin’ this whole time?” Scotty asked exasperatedly, his eyebrows furrowing in slight annoyance. Elvis looked behind him at the cars, wincing as he noticed people were already climbing into their seats or pulling out of the parking lot completely. “We’ve been busy.” He said simply. Scotty looked over Elvis’s shoulder, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed your flushed cheeks. “Doin’ what, exactly?” The dark haired boy didn’t take kindly to the fact that someone else was seeing his girl in such a state, so he was quick to grab the edge of the door, closing it enough so that only his face and a small sliver of the room inside could be visible. “We were busy, alright? I’ll come out in a second. Let me just get my things together.” Scotty threw his hands up in surrender after noticing the look on Elvis’s face, taking two steps back from the door. “Be quick about it. We go on after Snow, and I’m tired of hearin’ the square complain.” Elvis was quick to shut the door, jogging over towards his suitcase so that he could find his shoes. “Baby? Do you mind doin’ my eyes like you have em?” He motioned to his eyes with his finger, flashing you a small smile. 
You weren’t about to give your boyfriend a smoky eye, but you hoped he’d be alright with just some eyeliner and mascara. Not that his long lashes needed them anyway. “If we’ve got time, hun.” Your legs still felt a bit weak, what with the heavy petting from earlier, but you managed to walk to your purse so that you could grab your small makeup pouch. Elvis buttoned up his black lace shirt as you gently dragged some dark liner over his upper and bottom lashline, being careful to smear it a little after you were done so that it wouldn’t be too stark against his complexion. “Here, now close your eyes.” You ran the mascara wand through his lashes, cooing softly to him as you realized just how blue it made his eyes look. “And open em.” He obeyed, his hands moving up to grab you softly by your hips as you finished up. “Am I pretty?” He asked with a teasing smile, tilting his chin upwards, which was his way of silently asking for a kiss. You complied, giving him a quick peck before pulling away to nod. “Gorgeous.” 
Elvis was the only boy that you had ever met that preferred to be called pretty rather than handsome. He was putty in your hands any time you referred to him as ‘your pretty boy’. Well, who was he kidding? He was always putty in your hands. He would be a liar if he said that he wasn’t used to female attention. He’d say ‘thank you’ with that signature side smile of his- but the grin- it was reserved only for you. The corners of his eyes would crinkle and his nose would scrunch up. It made him look so childlike. So vulnerable, and it was only something that you were allowed to see. You knew good and well that there were certain aspects of Elvis that you would have to share with his fans, but he made sure to reserve the most sacred parts only for you. 
“Thank ya, baby.” He mumbled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear before he stood up and off of the bed. 
The drive to the fairgrounds was awkward, but Elvis seemed to be the only one that didn’t get the memo. He had one of his hands in your lap, playing subconsciously with the fabric of your dress while he spoke under his breath to you. It was mostly hushed compliments, but the second that the bright lights of the fair became visible he started whispering gentle instructions. “I don’t want ya gettin’ lost in the crowd, alright now? Make your way to the front, just like we practiced. I want to be able to keep my eye on ya the entire time.” The ebony haired man had talked a big game back in the motel room, but you could tell that whatever his mother and father had said to him carried some weight. He seemed a little bit more antsy than he did the previous night. Despite the fact that nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary, you still nodded, allowing him to pull you along through crowds. The closer you two got to the stage, the quicker people began to take notice of him. Girl’s turned their heads, some even going as far as to drop their date’s hand as he passed. He didn’t pay any mind, instead he kept his eyes locked on the stage, trying to find a good place for you to go. “Here, push your way right there.” He leaned in close so that you could hear him over Hank’s singing, pointing with his pinky, his newly purchased ring shining in the bright artificial light. You nodded, smiling against his lips as he gave you one last kiss before jogging to catch up with his band. You were quick to follow instruction, easily maneuvering through the crowd, muttering apologies as men and women turned to glare in your direction. 
You weren’t quite sure why, but you were starting to become nervous yourself. It felt like someone was watching you, and had been since you and Elvis passed the admission gates. You anxiously looked over your shoulders, trying to see if there might be anyone you recognized, but alas- nothing. You tried to swallow back the strange sense of dread that was beginning to bubble up in your throat, instead focusing on the stage in front of you. Hank Snow was a talent, but surely wasn’t your cup of tea. His ballads were too slow and shallow for your liking. Too safe. Elvis had been the one to get you hooked on good music way back in high school. You still clapped for Snow whenever he took a bow, flashing him a small smile. You and Elvis had been playing nice with the man. You two had a strong feeling that he didn’t take too kindly to the two of you and the flamboyant way you both decided to live your lives. He was never outwardly rude to you at least. Elvis wasn’t so lucky though. 
The second that the forest green suited country singer had stepped off the stage, it was almost as though the entire crowd took a collective breath to steady themselves. You bit the inside of your cheek as a few girls started pushing against your back, your chest and hips pressing uncomfortably against the wooden stage. In a single millisecond the aura had completely shifted. A few older patrons began to walk away from the stage, but it did nothing to lessen the crowd. People began running across the fairgrounds to make it to the stage in time. 
Scotty and Bill stepped on stage, dragging their instruments along with them. Girls began gasping, whispering amongst themselves as they waited for Elvis to join them. “Have you seen his picture in the paper? He’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!” “My friend lives in Shreveport and saw him at the Louisiana Hayride. She said she’s never seen anything like it.” You couldn’t keep the knowing smirk off of your lips. If they thought he was beautiful from a grainy picture alone, just wait until they saw the way that the music moved him. You pressed your hands against the top of the stage, Scotty and Bill flashing you a quick smile just before the crowd erupted with loud screams. It made your ears ring. Elvis jogged up on stage, guitar in hand. His bare arms flexed as he gently strummed the chords, stepping up to the mic. “It’s an honor to be able to play here for you all tonight.” He called over the loud screams and cries. There was something perversly satisfying about seeing the hold that he had over everyone, knowing good and well that you were the only person that has ever and will ever touch him. Not even in the girl’s wildest fantasies would they ever know what he was truly like behind closed doors. The eyeliner that had the girls swooning? You had put that on him yourself. The soft sheen to his lips? That was the lipstick that had transferred onto him from your mouth. 
The girls could hoot and holler all they wanted. You didn’t blame them one bit. You didn’t feel even a little jealous as they began calling his name, begging for even a shred of his attention, because you knew that he was yours. He knew it too. His eyes instantly scanned the crowd, his shoulders visibly relaxing when he finally found your form. After Elvis and the boys had given the crowd a few moments to quiet down, they began playing their first song. The sound of Elvis’s voice and the quick, near violent way he strummed his guitar was unlike anything that you had ever heard before. It had changed something inside of you. You could tell that the crowd was having the exact same reaction as they watched him, swaying to the sound of the music. Some girls looked like they might pass out, their faces going pale and their eyes growing glassy. This was the kind of music that concerned mothers and fathers warned their children about. Rock and roll. 
Elvis was rock and roll. It wasn’t just a type of music or a way of dressing for him. It was the way that he lived his life. It was a state of mind. It was a state of being. His hips and feet moved as though he was possessed by God himself. He may as well have been. You could feel the standup bass in your chest, and Elvis’s guitar in your throat. Your blood fizzled like champagne as you watched him, his eyes bluer than a summer sky, his bubblegum pink lips pulled taught against bright white teeth as he screamed into the mic. His eyes moved over the crowd, and suddenly he was on his knees, leaning back to look up at the night sky as his fingers flew over the neck of the guitar. 
You couldn’t help yourself as you reached out, no better than the screaming fans as you brushed your fingers over his thigh, needing to touch him. You didn’t know how, but he instantly looked at you, as if he could feel that you were the one touching him. His eyes burned as he took in the expression on your face, his lips curling back into a snarl. Girls distantly screamed behind you as they took in his expression. 
Something like this wouldn’t be romantic to some, but you melted against the stage, your torso leaning further against the hardwood. You were sure to have bruises tonight, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You needed to be closer closer closer. Your body ached for him. You could feel his guitar vibrating through you, his heavenly voice bringing back memories of last night. Of how he loved to press his lips against your ear to purr and moan. He wanted you to hear every heavy breath, every gasp, every preen- and as he practically laid himself out on that stage, girls trying to grab at whatever they could, he had never felt more yours. He grabbed your face in his hands for a split second before he was standing back up, moving over to the mic so that he could finish up the song. 
By the second song there were at least three pairs of panties on the stage, which both you and Elvis regarded with wide, humor filled smiles. 
Elvis sang with a violence that he never let shine through in his everyday life. He got up on that stage and sang for his mama, his daddy, you and God. He belted up to the heavens for the angels to hear. You could feel the damn near desperation as he swayed his body, his hair falling into his eyes, dripping with sweat. 
After the third song you felt as though you might faint yourself. You could barely breathe as girls continued to press against you- crushing your ribs against the stage. You were never the type of girl to follow instruction very well, so despite Elvis and even Gladys’s worries, you found yourself slipping through the crowd, breathing hard as you tore your way through the writhing bodies. Your eyes swept over the grounds, and you were quick to make your way over towards a refreshment tent. “Can I just get a cup of water?” The carnie recognized you as Elvis’s girl instantly, smiling as he saw your pink cheeks and shaky hands. You sat down on a nearby picnic table as you greedily gulped down the water. You could hear his voice from across the grounds, tapping your foot along to the beat as you tried to enjoy the last of his performance. 
“Whatcha doin’ over here alone?” You jumped as you heard a deep voice sound from right beside you. You had been so wrapped up in the music that you hadn’t even noticed someone approaching you. You blinked, turning around just to make sure that there wasn’t someone else behind you that the man must have been talking to. Alas, you were the only person in the vicinity. “I’m waiting for my boyfriend to get done performing.” You pointed to the stage, slowly placing the cup down on the table just in case you needed to quickly excuse yourself. He sat down beside you anyway, nodding his head slowly. The refreshment tent was a hundred feet away, and you were in an area with barely any lighting. You were beginning to become more aware of the precarious situation that you had somehow put yourself in. “Ah, right. I saw you walkin’ hand in hand with that scrawny musician.” Your eyes quickly narrowed as you stood up and off of the table. “I don’t take kindly to people bad mouthin’ my loved ones, ya understand? If a conversation was what you were lookin’ for, then find it elsewhere.” You spat, pointing over to another populated area. He blinked, seemingly taken aback by your bold nature. 
“Woah. . . you sure are loud for a tiny lil thing,” You took a step back as he stood up and off of the table himself, shoving his hands into his pockets as he gave you a once over. “Maybe you shouldn’t go ‘round dressin’ like that if ya don’t want strangers approachin’.” You could have socked the man right in the face. You began shaking with anger, clenching your fists at your sides. “What does my outfit have anythin’ to do with you unnecessarily runnin’ your mouth? Did ya think you insultin’ my boyfriend would make me interested in you? Hah!” You let out a loud, humorless laugh. “Like I said earlier; move along.” You shooed him off, reaching out for your water cup. You let out a scream as he grabbed you roughly by the wrist, your shoulder cracking as he roughly yanked you forward. “Watch yer mouth, girlie.” He spoke to you through clenched teeth, his eyes wide and wild. You swallowed thickly, fear hitting you like a freight train. You could distantly hear your boyfriend working the crowd, your stomach flipping anxiously as you realized he was about to get off stage and realize you weren’t there to greet him. 
“Let go of me. Rough housin’ with a lady out in public like this isn’t very gentlemanly.” You tried to yank your sore arm back to your side, but he didn’t let go. He added even more pressure, and you cried out in pain as you realized that he was damn near close to breaking it. “I don’t let women boss me ‘round.” His free hand moved up to your hair, his fingers gripping roughly as he jerked your head back. Was he about to kiss you? Touch you? 
You were unable to run now, and so you knew that the only option you had was to get someone’s attention. Anyone’s. “Help!” You screamed, your eyes prickling with tears as you tried to move your head in the man’s hold, hoping to avoid whatever he was planning to do with you. A beat passed before you finally sucked in another breath, screaming again. “Elvis!” Your boyfriend had been speaking into the microphone, but the second that you had called his name he went silent. You could distantly hear a loud clatter and a few females calling out his name, but you were too focused on the older man’s face to pay attention to much else. He was dragging you further into the darkness by your hair, and you stumbled blindly forward, reaching your arms out to push as hard as you could against his chest, even going as far as to bang your fist against his shoulders in the hopes of somehow fighting him off. 
It all happened so fast, you didn’t even have time to blink. You stumbled backwards, the breath being knocked from your lungs as you hit the grass. Hard. You could hear a tussle behind you, and you blinked back tears as you slowly sat up. It was like everything was happening in slow motion. The red faced stranger had been pushed back against the picnic table, pinned there, and your boyfriend stood above him, muscles bulging as he gripped him by the front of his shirt, wailing on him with his right arm. Again and again he connected his fist with the man’s face, his teeth clenched, the veins in his arms bulging as he let out a deep, guttural scream. Elvis had somehow, by the grace of god, heard your voice over a hundred screaming girls and came running to your rescue. A loud sob escaped your throat as both relief and pain overcame you. The pitiful sound only spurred him on. 
“I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Ya hear me? You’re dead!” Elvis’s deep voice called, a small crowd already beginning to form. You tried to stand up on shaky legs, embarrassment flooding your veins as you realized what kind of a state you were in. “E-Elvis. . . He’s had enough, baby!” 
Elvis had been pushed around and beat on his entire life for looking and being the way that he was. Over the years he had learned how to fight. How to win. He might have been smaller than the brute, but it wasn’t the size that mattered in this case. No- it was the skill and ferocity that your boyfriend possessed. That and the white hot rage. Elvis’s eyes were wild as he stared down at him, not letting up even for a second. The man had tried to push back against the ebony haired musician, but the blows to the head had kept him in a dazed state. Elvis’s gaudy golden ring made contact with the man’s temple again and again. The crowd began to part as a few men broke through, moving to try and pull your man off of the assailant. “You’re killin’ him, Elvis! Stop! Please, for the love of God!” At the sound of your distress he was quick to let go, shrugging the men’s hands off of him as he quickly made his way over to you. “Hey, hey. Talk to me darlin’. What happened.” His eyes flickered over your face wildly as he panicked. He stopped himself from reaching out for you when he realized his knuckles were caked in blood, wiping them off on his white pants. He brushed your hair off of your sweaty forehead, pressing his own forehead against your cheek, desperate to have you against him. To hear your breath and feel your heart beating against his chest. You could hear people trying to disperse the crowd, but you paid no mind to them. You kept your eyes locked on Elvis's shoulder as you fought off the urge to cry. “Talk to me, baby. You’re shakin’ like a leaf.” You gulped down deep breaths, finally moving your hands to grip onto his shirt. You rubbed your fingers against the lace, feeling his warm skin beneath. It soothed you. Helped you to stop your panicking. 
“EP. You take the car back to the motel. We’ll just ride with Jimmie and Hank back.” You heard Scotty’s voice beside you. Elvis slowly untangled one of his arms from your form, shoving the keys in his now ruined pants. “Let’s get to the car. Can you do that? Can you walk, sweet heart?” He purred, pulling away to look at your face. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, sucking in a hard breath as he noticed your tear caked face and wide teary eyes. His chest began to rise and fall quickly as he took deep breath after deep breath. “I should have gutted him.” You were quick to shake your head, stumbling back as you pulled him with you by his shirt. “L-Let’s just go okay? I wanna go.” You needed to get the hell out of there as fast as you could. Even if someone else had already come by and picked the stranger up. Even if you knew you were now well protected- it didn’t matter. You needed to go back to the motel room so that you could break down without having everybody’s eyes on you. You were sure that this fight would only add to Elvis’s sordid reputation as well. You were. . . you were just mortified. Elvis kept his arm tightly around you as he walked you through the fairgrounds, allowing you to tuck your head into his throat. He continued to mumble sweet words into your ear as the two of you made your way out into the car lot. Elvis helped you into the bright yellow car, going as far as to make sure you were well situated before moving on over to the drivers side. 
The car ride was silent. He didn’t even turn on the radio, which was rare for him. You rolled down the window, letting the wind whip your hair back and cool your hot face. By the time the two of you had made it back to the room you had already started to calm down. With the panic and adrenaline now out of your system, you could feel how badly your arm hurt. You kept your mouth shut about it, knowing that Elvis would probably tear the room apart in his haste to find the man responsible. He was being so sweet and tentative towards you, but you could tell that he was barely hanging on to his sanity. He’d always gone out of his way to watch over you. This wasn’t the first guy he’d gotten in a fight with over you. . . but never had it been this bad. Never. 
After you had told Elvis the entire story, save for the part where you were sure that you’d torn a muscle in your shoulder, he just sat there on the bed in silence. For a second you were sure that he was going to react with more anger, but you would have been wrong. Your lips parted as you watched his blue eyes fill with tears. After a few seconds he let out a loud sob, his body shaking as he practically caved in on himself. Never in your entire life had you ever seen him so upset. He began rubbing his own arms with his hands, as if to comfort himself, to get himself to stop crying. Not even your own loving hands and soothing words could stop him. His body was wracked with sobs as he pulled his knees up to his chest, pressing his forehead against the tops of his thighs. “Baby? Baby what’s wrong?” You gripped him by the chin, gently leaning his head back so that you could look at him. The mascara had begun running down his cheeks, his eyelashes clumping together. His lip quivered as he tried to get the words out because another loud hiccup shook his shoulders. “I don’t deserve you. I-I can’t live with myself after a-all of that happened.” He wiped at his eyes, only smearing the makeup even more. 
If you thought his eyes had looked blue before, now they looked like sapphires. 
Burning bright. Burning sad. 
“It’s not your fault, hun. None of that was your fault. I-I. . . I moved away from the crowd. I’m the one to blame.” He shook his head, his jaw going slack. 
“Are you insane, y/n? You’re my girl. My baby,” He dropped his legs so that he could bang his hand against his chest to emphasize the words. “It’s my job to keep you safe. Keep you takin’ care of. I was up there singin’ like a fool while you were havin’ your hair ripped out of your little head. I promised your daddy. . . your mama that I was goin’ to look after you until the day that i died, and look what happened under my watch.” You could have started crying yourself. He was shakin’, his eyes wide, cheeks stained and streaked with mascara and eyeliner.
If you had thought that he looked like a God up on that stage, now he looked like a fallen angel. 
“You couldn’t have known any of that was gonna happen. You did the best that you cou-” “Well my best isn’t damn good enough!” You jerked back as he screamed, watching as his hands moved up to his head, gripping- yanking- at his hair. In front of you sat a man who had spent his whole life doing for others. He financially provided for his parents, even during high school. He worked three jobs just to put food on the table and gas in his daddy’s car, all while counting pennies to buy himself a coke from the corner store. He felt like he had to watch over everyone he loved. That their happiness and safety relied on him. 
“You’re perfect and you’re mine.” You reached out, holding him against yourself so tightly that you were sure one of your rib cages were sure to break. ‘Fuck it’, you thought. ‘Let it shatter’. “There isn’t anything you could have done to prevent it, baby. All I can say is that imma be careful from now on. I won’t leave your side. Not ever again.” He was pulling on your clothes, pulling on your hair, clutching you to him like he was scared that you might dissipate into thin air. You let him claw at you- dig his calloused fingers into your soft skin. “Please. Please never leave me. I-I can’t take it.” 
If you had ever questioned whether or not Elvis truly loved you, you sure as hell never would again. The man was practically destroying himself over a situation that he had no control over, all because you had gotten hurt. “Never. I’m not goin’ anywhere, darlin’.” That was all he needed to hear. In the blink of an eye he had you pinned down to the bed, his hands clumsily fumbling with the bottom of your dirt stained dress. “E-Elvis! What are you doin’?” You tried grabbing his hands to stop him, but he was a man on a mission. “Let me make it up to you.” Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly as his fingers found your panties. He was tearing them off of you in a second. “T-There’s nothing to make up for! Let me love on you, for Christ’s sake. You need to calm down.” His eyes flickered back up to meet yours, and he sniffled softly, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His eyes were hard, but no longer teary. “I am calm. I just. . . I feel like I can’t breathe if I’m not touchin’ you right now. So let me. . . let me touch you.” Your eyes fluttered as you looked up at him, his gaze hard, bordering on animalistic. It was as if you had been transported back to his show. His hand gripping your face, eyes boring into your own as he moved just for you. You worshiped him just as he worshiped you. Elvis Presley was one of a kind. No one had ever been born like him before, and nobody ever would be even after he was gone. You were sure of it. 
He pushed your skirt up and over your hips, kissing down your body as though he could absorb the fear that you had felt earlier. He usually liked to tease you in order to get you worked up, but he didn’t tonight. No- His lips and tongue lapped you up like you were made of honey, and when his eyes flickered up to meet yours from between your legs, he beheld you as if you were some glittery, golden thing. His fingers brushed up your body, cupping your breast through your dress, working your already hardening nipples with his fingers. You cried out, back arching as the pleasure steadily began to build. 
He pulled at the neckline of your stained dress, his tongue running all the way up from your entrance to your clit- slow slow slow. His eyebrows furrowed, humming as he tasted you. He cupped your now freed breasts, pinching the nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. 
You were panting so hard you were sure that you might pass out. Your hand gripped hard at the sheets as he continued to work your clit over with his tongue, his eyes falling shut as he savored you. His thick, long lashes casted shadows on his cheeks. Every once and a while they would flutter, like the beating of a butterfly's wings. In the dull lamp light of the dingy motel room, covered in dirt and grass stains, you felt your heart swell to the point of bursting. Your eyes filled with tears as you stared up at the ceiling, your plush lips parting as a sob ripped from your throat. 
You were wracked with both pleasure and a crippling sense of hope. You loved this man more than anything else. You’d love him in this life, in the next life, and into whatever came next. 
He was everything. 
And on cue the man’s free hand found yours, which had been tangled up in the sheets. He intertwined his fingers, gripping you tight. You weren’t sure why- but that was what pushed you over the edge. You dug the back of your head into the mattress as you climaxed, eyes squeezing shut. His hand moved from your breasts to your thigh, holding it to the side so that he could continue his attack, riding you through your orgasm. He didn’t stop there. Your free hand tangled into his hair, chanting his name as though it was some ancient spell. Your body quivered against him, thighs naturally trying hard to squeeze together, to stop him from continuing to push you over the edge. He didn’t stop, his tongue focusing on your bundle of nerves. Before you knew it you were building up all over again, your cunt dripping with slick and spit, and quite possibly tears. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. 
You weren’t even sure if you were speaking coherently when you climaxed for the second time. You thought that you were praising him, telling him how pretty he was and how good, but you couldn’t be sure. His tongue slowly slid down to your entrance, lazily lapping up your cum before he sat up on shaky knees, pupils blown out, cheeks pink. 
His lips were shining in the low light, and he was quick to lick them, as if he needed to swallow every last drop of you, like it was some precious nectar. The kind that someone only got to taste once in a lifetime. After he had finally caught his breath he laid down next to you, hanging one of his arms over the side of the bed as he stared at your face. His eyes were impossibly soft, his face still wet with tears. “I love seein’ you like this.” His voice was gruff, thick with lust and something else. Something even more beautiful. “What? All sweaty and quiverin’?” You attempted to tease, but you were still breathing too hard for the joke to really land. “No. . . no-” he raised a hand up, pushing your hair off of your forehead. 
“I love seeing you in love with me.” 
check out the third chapter of this story !
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surferblues · 2 years
Text
cherry red blow ! ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
dilfelvis! austin butler x fem! reader
notes if you have a problem with 5-10 year age gaps , do not read 😵‍💫 because when i say i like dilfs... i mean DILFS
warnings smut (18+ only, minors dni), unprotected sex, intoxication, dom! elvis, praise, p in v, unestablished relationship, implied age gap, spelling errors, and obviously sexual themes.
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Elvis knew who you were. Hell, all he could think about was you. He wasn't the one to get caught up with one girl, he was the type of guy who would sleep with any woman who offered .
And he was Elvis Presley, he could sleep with any woman if he could - all, but you.
He knew best to not fall under the impression you wanted him, that you were doing all that dressing up for him. You were a nanny hired by Priscilla, you made it clear the first day you were hired that you had no ill intentions of ruining the Presley name.
The way you walked around his home with those satin little dresses that covered only so much. The way you covered your lips in that damn cherry red lipstick. He couldn't help to think you knew what you were doing.
You u loved your job. truly, there was good pay, you got on so well with the presley family, the house was big and luxurious. people would kill to be in the position you were in.
You did what you usually did in preparation of coming in for your job. You made sure every hair was in place, you made sure that your clothes came from the finest sellers, and your lips always were layered in that cherry red lipstick.
You had been hired by Priscilla, her hopes of hiring a nanny to watch Lisa from time to time so Elvis and herself could rekindle the faded spark in their relationship.
You had some knowledge of their difficulties of their relationships, as you got front row view to the arguments they shared every night Elvis came home drunk with a groupie under his arm.
The pills, Elvis never being home, and the women were just helping points on why Priscilla found it so difficult to be in a relationship with Elvis. So it was safe to say you weren't surprised when Priscilla packed up her things and left Elvis, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
A part of you was relieved when you found out Elvis was a single man, another part of you was worried about it. Elvis always made it clear he went for younger girls, and with the ten year age gap between the two of you - you knew he had to think of you in such a dirty way.
it started off as a little crush, but you never pursued in actually doing anything with the older man in fear of risking your job. he was smart, and you assumed he wouldn’t ever go for the nanny of his daughter .
that was until you’d catch him eyeing your cherry glazed lips, the subtle touches near your hips when he would pass by you, and clever flirty comments began to slip out of his mouth.
something in your dynamic just... shifted.
it was one night when he arrived home from a long night of partying, and Lisa Marie was sound asleep in bed — he’d find you with a halfway full bottle of wine in your grasp.
your cheeks flushed, your words sloppily said.
"you've been out all night mr. presley."You giggled with a rasp, your eyes look over towards the door where the man stood, the slam of the front door indicating he just got to Graceland.
you took in his appearance as he came into eye view. the dark messy hair that was messy just in the perfect way, the way his tan chest peeked from the behind the white button up that was unbuttoned slightly, bloodshot eyes indicating that he may have partied a bit too hard.
just as you took him in, he took in the sight of you. your red lipstick smeared from your lips ever so slightly, your hair tousled, and the straps of your little dress falling off your shoulders as your back rested the marble table that stood in the middle of the fancy kitchen.
he began walking towards the small island where you stood, your eyes following every move he made.
"wasn't today your day off, darlin'?" he questioned curiously with that thick country twang, letting out a breathless shot of laughter before looking towards the direction where you were. "priscilla asked to me watch Lisa, she had some plans." you admitted.
he walked towards the the wooden cabinet where he kept his liquor, grabbing a empty small glass and a much larger glass full of burning liquor.
some part of you was telling you two remove yourself from the room, get as far away from Elvis as you could - but another part of you was screaming at you to stay, screaming at you to pursue your dangerous urges.
"If you prefer me to go, I can, Mr. Presley." You offered, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you watched Elvis's face for any sign of discomfort.
he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his body standing right across from you.
you saw the way his jaw clenched at the way you said his name, but that happened everytime the simple saying slipped out of your mouth, "oh, mr. presley."
"no, no, the more the merrier." Elvis's slurred out, pouring a shot of whiskey in his glass, hesitation laced in his voice but he quickly covered it with a shaky scoff.
"you know, it's good to call me just elvis." he met your eyes, cooing out his words. the playful expression that was on his face moments ago replaced with a more hesitant one.
"good for you or good for me?" you murmured out, your lips quirking up so riskily and daringly.
you were writing out a check you couldn't cash.
"it would save us from a whole 'lotta trouble." he raised his brows and tilted his head with a careless shrug, bringing the glass of liquor to his lips. his Adam's apple bobbing as the stinging liquid entered his body.
"trouble? i thought you liked trouble, mr. presley." you cocked your head, your words rolling off of your tounge so surely. you began readjusting your hips, the end of your satin dress riding up with every move you made.
he couldn't read the expression sprawled on your face, but you sure as hell could read his. his knitted brows, his eyes looking at you so intensely... reading you for any source of confirmation that the sinful thoughts in his head weren't only racing through his.
"i like a lot of things, sweetheart." elvis chuckled, setting down the glass of dark liqueur. his eyes taking a quick peek on the dress that was now bunched on your hips - a momentarily peek, a peek that was so quick that he was sure you wouldn't have saw.
"yeah?" you purred, deciding to be the one to make the first move out of the unspoken need you two shared. you decided to grab the glass he sat down moments ago and bring it your lips, the liquor was strong but you wouldn't show him that.
"uh, y... yeah." elvis choked out, clearing his throat as he felt sudden pressure on his cock. "good things cause a lot of trouble." he purred sinfully, he knew what your intentions were, he knew he wasn't reading this situation wrong... the next move was up to him.
he quickly recovered, shaking off the flustered state you put him in and returning to his cocky self. "good girl's, cause a lot of trouble." he teased in a readily manner, he lustfully over where you stood, watching you with nothing but pure amusement.
"oh, mr. Presley, kill me if im wrong. but i would assume your saying im a good girl?" you cooed, you quirked one of your brows, questioning the man infront of you. you sat your body on the counter, legs dangling as you looked at him curiously.
"isn't that you call a pretty little thing such as yourself, a good girl?" he rasped it so readily, his feet moved him few inches, just so he could stand in between your legs and look at your face.
your chest rose up and down in a needy way, your eyes watching the way his slowly wandered towards your bare hips. "i can be whatever your want, mr. presley." you handed him back his glass of liquor, a barely visible coat of cherry red lip stick on the rim of the glass.
"you’re gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?" he purred as he nodded, grabbing the glass from you, but never did he dare to look away from you. keeping his eyes on you as you felt his finger tips tap your soft thighs. those three taps, gesturing for you to open your legs so he could stand in between them.
and you listened, never did you hesitate. he looked down at your parted legs, oh god, how many times has he thought about this exact moment. he didn't know where to start, he just knew by before the night was over he would have kissed every inch of your body.
"how do you want me, baby?" one of his rough hands gently squeezed your hips, while the other finally began reaching the soaking lace panties that covered your pussy.
you felt his duo of fingers applying light pressure to your clit, causing a shaky whimper to leave your mouth.
"i... i just, " you trailed off, you looked down to see his hardened cock poking through his leather pants - you took a peek, a peek so quick you thought he wouldn't even notice.
"just need you inside me, mr. presley." you whimpered, rolling your hips up towards where he needed attention from you most - causing breathy moans to slip from his and your lips as you felt his needy dick rub you through your lace panties.
"that'ta girl." Elvis teased, he began slipping the wet pink lace off, a cocky smirk on his lips as he pickpocketing them. your hands traveled towards the zipper of his black leather pants, the sound of the zipper unzipping could be heard alongside your's and Elvis's needy breaths.
"so eager, baby?" he chuckled, the sound of the leather dropping to the floor - and just as quick as his pants were off, so were his boxers. there was nothing holding him back from fucking you.
precum on the tip of his hard dick, his body telling him he needed this more than anything.
" y'look so pretty like this, mama." he breathily cooed against your neck, placing sloppy kisses all over your collar bones as you and him were chest to chest. you felt his hand gently hover over your lower abdomen, pressing ever so gentle - leaving you slightly confused.
his dick began grazing over the slit of your pussy, his precum mixing with the wetness of your pussy his words he squeezed out of you. your hands gripped his shoulders, getting yourself ready and steady.
he then lined his dick with your hole, he looked at you for confirmation. you nodded readily and quickly, moving your hips that he had been gripping up a few inches. "please." you whimpered, his tip in your hole, you just needed him to completely to enter you.
and as soon as you whimpered, you felt his dick slowly filling you up. his dick was bigger than any other dick that had entered your body before. you felt your walls tighten around him, your nails burying into his shoulders as his hands squeezed your hips.
"pussy was made for me." he didn't move, letting your needy hole get used to the feeling as you both let out incoherent whimpers. his eyes squeezed shut, head buried in your shoulder, and hot and heavy breaths following.
his dick hadn't left your hole all the way when he then snapped his hips into yours, taking you by surprise as you felt his hand lift your thigh around his waist - hoping to get access to the spot that would drive insane even if he slightly grazed over it.
he set a harsh but slow pace, each thrust was better than the other. you felt yourself subconsciously rocking against his, breathy whimpers and moans slipping from his mouth was only encouraging you to continue.
He was making you feel so good, like you expected him to. His dick seemed to be made for you, all of its veins and curves hitting the right spots inside you.
you felt his hand pressed against your lower abdomen again, but this you felt something else other than his hand.
he wanted you to feel him, inside and out. so you saw the bulge of his dick with each time he slammed into you, you could basically feel that familiar Spring coil form.
"s... so damn.. " he cut him self off with a harsh thrust in your pussy, causing you to let out a high pitched moan. " tight, just for ... me."
and just if you thought that was too much, you felt his fingers press against your swollen button. pressing and tracing circles around your wet clit as his dick dipped in and out.
This pleasure filled encounter couldn’t last forever, even if you wished it could. Soon enough your walls began to clench around him, making his thrust slow down to enjoy the way you squeezed. He was choking out moans into your ear, his voice raspy and shaky.
"elvis... m'close." you whimpered shakily, his hands guiding your hips as you felt his dick pulse, the familiar feeling of your pussy getting sensitive with each time his fingers and dick did their most.
and he made sure to touch that g spot, pushing his dick into so deep that you were sure to cum any moment. "fuck!" you breathlessly moaned, everything around you went hot when his dick hit that spongy spot.
"that'ta girl." he pressing down lightly on your lower stomach so you really felt him whilst shushing you.
it was like all of the juices you had been collecting had finally released just by his dick grazing that sweet spot, your vision went white, and your body jerked into his - his arm wrapped against your body, hugging against you as he rode out his high.
you could hear the sound of yours and Elvis's cum mixing, the shaky pants you two shared, something you would never forget.
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@marinarose12 @rysssaa @domaniquessidehoe @wistoric @givemehickeysplease @mr-aurum @feral4austinbutler @pandora-journey @kissingrhi @ash-omalley @queendelrey @heartsbomb @djarinlgc @austinbutler4life @adoreyouusugar
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angelinajoulie · 1 year
Text
At his mercy.
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Rating: 18+ MDNI. You read at your own risk.
Pairing: dom!Austin Butler x shy!girlfriend!reader
Summary: Austin fucks you in his ‘The late late show’ suit.
Warnings: NSFW. SMUT. this is PURE FILTH; age gap; austin is definitely a DOM in this (you can't tell me otherwise); swearing; pet names; fingers sucking; oral (m receiving); size kink; praise kink; austin referring to himself as daddy (just twice); unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it); creampie; cockwarming (sorta??).
a/n: English is not my first language, this is the first time I’ve written from Italian to English and after two months of writing and translating this work I really don't know what came out, so please forgive any mistake✨ leave a comment down here and let me know what you think✨
Enjoy!
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It's late at night, the lights outside are already out, and the street lamps are the only ones left to light the wet road while everything around is sleeping and waiting for a new day to come. Not a sound, not a noise is bothering the atmosphere outside except for the sweet rustles of trees on the street as a black Range Rover nears the driveway.
Shortly after, the sudden noise of a door opening makes you skip a beat, taking you off-guard and waking you from your sleep. He is back.
Your eyelids open slowly and you instinctively look at the alarm on the nightstand. 1:30 am.
"As usual," you think.
It takes you a little to realize that you fell asleep too early and didn't wait awake for him— as you always do, but you had a very stressful day at college and you couldn't help yourself to give in to the comfy bed beneath you.
So you decide to wait for him to make his way into the bedroom before you can close your eyes again.
You hear him from upstairs while he tosses the keys on the side table at the entrance, then a series of muffled noises follow.
And then, again, silence.
You feel your eyes getting heavy and you know that you'll fall asleep soon. But not without him.
And noticing he's still not gone upstairs yet you decide to get down to him.
You rise from the bed and a breath of wind wraps around your shoulders as soon as the blanket leaves your body, leading you to wear your white satin robe before going downstairs.
Your bare feet meet every cold step unnoticeably, the high temperature difference between the two floors causing you to shrug.
You're searching for him, your eyes are looking at every corner of the living room while waiting to catch his figure until your feet finally touch the ground.
You see him.
Standing in front of the cupboard against the wall, bottle in his hand as he pours himself a large glass of whiskey.
Austin.
He is wearing a navy blue pinstripe suit from Prada that perfectly matches his blue eyes, the jacket left open to reveal a black mesh shirt, half undone and barely covering his toned, tanned chest.
It suits him heavenly.
His eyes look up to meet yours as soon as he feels your presence.
“Hey” he murmurs in a low and raspy voice.
“Hi” you respond and get closer to him, trying to greet him properly.
Seeing you lean in he puts the bottle back in its place and in no time you feel his arm around your waist. Austin lowers his head for his lips to meet yours in a chaste and tender kiss, the first one after an entire day away from each other.
Your hand travels up his spine, reaching the nape of his neck and starting caressing it, your fingers sneaking between his hair gently as you hold yourself closer to his chest. His body is so warm against yours, his warmth filling your heart completely and making you feel safe in the tight grip of his strong arms.
You’ve missed him so much.
The last period has been very exhausting for him, every day passes between interviews, photoshoots and premieres and he's terribly busy, and considering that you too have your things to do with college and all, you're both forced to be apart from each other. But despite all of this, you always try to do your best to support him, following him at the events when possible or watching him on TV, waiting for him until he gets home— like you should've done today too.
Soon your lips move away with a tiny 'pop' and your eyes meet, a shy smile appearing on both of your faces.
“How was your day?” you ask, breaking the silence.
“Great, just a lil tiring” he sighs, caressing your hip gently “have you seen the show?”
You nod without hesitation.
“Of course I did,” a sense of pride overwhelms you seeing him smile slightly at your obviousness “just for you.”
“Really?” he grins, pretending to be surprised as his eyes look down at yours and you nod again.
“Yeah”
“Good girl” he places two of his fingers under your chin, lifting it up for your lips to meet his again in a quick kiss before he pulls away from you and takes the full glass of whiskey in his hand.
You shudder thinking about the pet name.
Good girl...
“And what about you? How was college today?”
Your gaze never leaves him, following each one of his movements while he reaches the couch and takes a seat between the black leather cushions. A shiver runs down your spine, stopping right on your lower stomach. Your mind gets fuzzy, distracting you from his question.
Legs wide apart, broad shoulders resting on the back of the sofa, his right hand on his knee and thigh as the left one brings the edge of the glass towards his mouth, needing a sip. The bitter and yellowish liquid runs down his throat, and his eyes shut just for a second until he swallows it, licking his plump lips after.
You feel yourself throb around nothing at the sight of him manspreading, and your thighs instantly rub together at the thought of every single time you've seen him doing that same thing: eyes closed, lips and tongue wet— not from whiskey.
You don't know why, you don't even know how to explain it to yourself, but seeing him like this sparked something inside you since you saw him on ‘The Late Late Show’ tonight. Something able to keep your mouth shut and your eyes glued to him.
He looks so confident. So dominant. So powerful. Right now, he could move mountains at his pleasure just by lifting a finger if he only wanted to.
And that damn suit... God, you want to sit on his lap so bad.
You'd do it immediately if only you weren't so shy to stand still at your place, merely biting at your lower lip while fantasizing about the mighty man in front of you, a gesture so simple but not enough to go unnoticed— not to him. Not to Austin.
His icy eyes linger on you again and this is the exact moment where you come back to reality and blush.
“What's up?” your awkwardness leads you to open your mouth and talk before you can remember a very important detail.
You still haven't answered his question.
“I asked you” he emphasizes, his tone sharp and deep as he takes in another sip and his tongue runs over his lips to wipe them more slowly and languidly than before, never taking his eyes off of yours “how was college today, angel?”
A mischievous grin appears on his face, the name that always knew how to make your stomach twirl makes you understand everything.
You got caught.
“G-good...” you stutter, coughing slightly as your cheeks are on fire for both arousal and embarrassment in front of that one clear consciousness.
You have a lot on your mind at the moment, a thousand thoughts are running through your head and Austin can read every single one of them.
And you know that he can, you know that he knows what you're thinking about.
Austin knows everything about you.
Because he knows you too well.
He can see from a mile away that something inside you snapped. Your body language is enough to let him know what you want and what you need.
He's tired, the only thing he needs at the moment is to finish his drink, take his clothes off and go to sleep with you, but seeing you wearing nothing but that white silk robe that barely covers your thighs as you bashfully bite your lip, thinking about all the shameless things you want him to do to you, is enough to drive him crazy too.
Because he'll never get enough of you.
He lifts his right hand and two of his fingers gesture you to get close.
“C'mere” his order is like liquid gold for you. You walk towards him without blinking, reaching the couch, stepping in front of him as if you've been waiting to all day.
Austin quickly swallows the last drop of whiskey, leaving the now empty glass on the table before grabbing your wrist and putting you between his spread legs.
His fingers manage to undo the tight bow of your robe, taking it off of you to reveal a lovely black satin nightie under it, one of the many he bought you to make up for the many others he ripped off of your body: soft to the touch, lightweight, with thin stripes and lace hems, short enough to leave your ass exposed.
No doubt that it's his favorite one. You're a goddess in it.
His forefinger traces a line up your thigh and reaches the hem of your nightie, your cheeks reddening as soon as he lifts it up, giving you goosebumps.
Austin feels his cock throb in his pants at the sight.
You aren't wearing panties. As he wished.
“No panties, mh?” you shook your head no, feeling the heat starting to pool right on your bare center and your heart pounding in your chest.
You feel so exposed under his touch, so weak, so small, so vulnerable at the feeling of your skin burning under his lingering hot gaze. Your body is completely at his mercy, poorly covered by that tiny piece of fabric while Austin still has his suit on, fully clothed from head to toe, looking at you like an uncompromising master who's thinking about the right treat for his good submissive. And in the darkest and deepest part of yourself, you're loving it.
You love that he always wants to be in control. You love being controlled by him.
At the moment you just want to follow his rules, please him, worship him, be punished if needed, because you want to be a good girl for him and him only.
“Get on your knees, angel.” and when his order comes, you can do nothing more than obey.
Your knees fall to the floor with a soft thud, hands anchored on his thick thighs as you're face to face with his crotch.
Austin's fingers are under your chin again, a gentle reminder for you to pull your gaze up to his face, forcing you to look straight into his eyes.
His baby blues are darkened, filled with craving and lust as they meet your shy and innocent ones waiting for mercy, for him to choose their fate and what is better for them.
Like an angel at God's feet.
“You're such a good little girl for me, you know this?” his voice gets deeper enough to make you feel soaked as he tucks your hair behind your ear.
“So submissive” he praises you in a whisper, his calloused digits moving to caress your cheek, allowing you to surrender to his touch by resting your head on his thigh.
“So responsive” the intense feeling of the cold gold of his rings hits your warm skin and your spine tingles.
His voice is so soft, yet so firm while he praises you that a weak moan leaves your parted lips, Austin taking advantage of it to shove two of his long fingers in your mouth. You know what to do so you embrace them with no hesitation and start sucking, wrapping your lips and tongue around his knuckles as the metallic taste grows strong in your mouth.
“So greedy...”
You are a vision to him, you look so tempting that his hand falls on his crotch to palm himself, his growing erection begging to be freed from his slacks and swallowed up by your throat.
“Bet your pretty little head's just thinking about one thing since I came home, doesn't it?” you nod frantically, his wet digits still in your mouth before he retracts them.
“Use your words.” authority drips from his tone and you sigh.
“Y-yes...” not enough.
“Yes what, angel?” your head lowers again in front of his request but he holds you still in place, grabbing your jaw “Look at me”
“I...” words get stuck in your throat, too shy to let them slip out easily.
“C'mon, don't be shy. Wanna hear you say it” he spurs “what's on your mind?”
Your heart keeps pounding as never before, and at this point, you don't even know how but you say it.
“I want your cock.”
“And where do you want it, angel?” he smirks as he adjusts himself between the cushions, your thighs clenching together to hide the wetness between them.
You love everything about him and the thing you love most is that he's able to read your mind without talking, but right now it seems like he has forgotten about this ability of his own. And you're hating him for this.
Because you know he's doing it on purpose.
He wants to hear your voice.
He wants to hear you beg.
He wants to hear your innocent mouth tell him the dirty things you want from him, the things he knows that make you feel all small and weak.
For this reason you swallow thickly, and gasping with your heart on your sleeve, you answer.
“In m-my mouth.”
“Then take it.” his words are the only green light you needed to put your shyness aside and leave room for the actions you're going to do in silence.
You reach the fly of his trousers with both hands, unzipping it and slipping between the black fabric of his briefs, freeing his cock.
You take it in your hand, he's already hard as it springs free against his stomach, the contact of your fingers against his weak flesh making him gasp.
You feel him. Long, warm and veiny, the tip already reddened and leaking with precum.
Your mouth waters at the sight. You need to make him feel good so bad.
You sit better on your own thighs, adjusting yourself to avoid the feeling of your knees pressing against the carpet before running your hand along his shaft.
Your strokes are slow and gentle, your fingers applying a small amount of pressure, making him breathe heavily.
“Angel...” he's so eager to feel you, the way his hips are bucking up to meet your strokes is silently proving it. So you decide to indulge him.
You lean forward and your lips start kissing his length from the base to the tip. You tease his slit with your thumb before starting to leave kitten licks on his head, feeling his salty taste exploding on your taste buds.
“Mmm, little one...” a deep groan falls from his lips and goes straight to your soaked center, making you shudder in your place “I love feeling your mouth on my cock...”
He seems so much weaker than before, and a strong sense of power washes over you.
“Fuck...” he swears, adjusting the blonde locks falling on his forehead.
The sensation of your warm mouth around his girth already sending him into a state of pure bliss “I'm not going to last long”.
You take a deep breath through your nose and start sucking, slowly moving your head up and down his cock as far as you can, trying your best to please him. His hand ends behind your head, his fingers holding you close to him as he'd never let you go.
“Yes, baby” he grunts “you feel so good”
Arousal is growing more and more inside of you, your pussy getting wetter as juices start flowing out of you because of hearing him moan.
You feel so bold right now, a sense of euphoria takes over you all of a sudden and makes you grind uncontrollably, searching for friction to ease the ache between your thighs while your head bobs faster around him.
“Yes, just like that, keep going baby...” you do as you're told. You keep sucking, and Austin's grip between your hair tightens.
The cool metal of his rings presses against the nape of your neck, his knuckles turning white and his protruding veins popping out as he applies more pressure to guide your hips at his own pace, making you feel trapped under his grip— under his control.
Right now you're the one giving him pleasure but it doesn't matter. He'll always know how to control you and be in charge.
Your throat is becoming sore and dry, some locks are covering your sweaty forehead and falling on his pubic bone as little tears are forming at the corners of your eyes.
You're a complete mess.
“My pretty little angel- shit, I'm going to fuck your pussy so good” his promise hits you right at your core and a choked moan escapes from your lips, the vibration is so intense against the head of his cock that he jerks frantically.
“Oh god!” his eyebrows furrow, his tight grip around your neck forces you to swallow more of him until he's hitting the back of your throat.
You can't take it anymore. You pull away from him, your fingers never stopping to rub his cock. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you breathe feverishly, searching for air to fill your lungs but Austin is quicker than any move you can make and leans toward your lips.
“Wanna cum inside you.” he tugs you into his mouth hungrily and you moan in both surprise and excitement. You are both panting at the same pace, his tongue slides into your wide-open mouth starting a steamy make-out session where your lips crash between grunts and bite each other without mercy.
Austin moves both his hands on your covered back and you sit up to climb on top of him. Your legs surround his thick thighs and your hands run everywhere on his sweaty chest and around his neck.
“I love you” he breathes on your lips, between heated kisses “so much”
“I love you too, Aus- ah!” his throbbing cock pushes against your soaked folds, making you gasp and jolt. The thrill is too much, you're so desperate that you start grinding against him, searching for friction to stop the hundreds of shocks running down your spine and hitting your womanhood repeatedly.
Your skin burns under his touch. You want him. You need him. You crave him.
And he knows it.
His hand stops on your asscheek, underneath the fabric of your nightie as his teeth keep biting your bottom lip voraciously, his fingers squeezing your flesh before grasping the hem of your nightie.
Austin takes it off of you and tosses it to the side.
Now you're fully naked on his lap, your breasts are pressed against his half-covered chest and your stomach shakes at the sensation of being so exposed while he's overdressed.
He leans forward a bit enough to bring his hands behind his back and take off his jacket.
“No!” your voice leaves your throat in a worried shriek, bringing out a primal emotion hidden in the deepest part of you.
Austin halts and looks you in the eyes, urging you to give him reasons. You blush.
You can't run away.
“L-leave it on...” you swallow thickly, hair falling on your face, hiding your awkwardness from him. Right now you're ashamed to death for this implied confession and his silence is not helping to ease your feeling.
He simply keeps staring at you, with those damned eyes that know how to make you melt, and without saying a word he kisses you again.
His tongue hungrily pushes itself into your mouth, giving you goosebumps as his fingers slide down straight between your folds, coating in your juices.
Now he can feel it.
“Fuck, you're dripping” his touch is so slight and lasts only for a moment, making you moan against his lips "all this wet just for sucking daddy's cock and seeing him in this suit, mh?"
“Please, Aus...”
“Who knew a stupid suit would make my little girl so eager?”
You don't answer and your shyness seems to no longer exist.
You just keep grinding against him, more desperate than ever while his tip rubs against your throbbing clit; he grasps his cock with his hand, adjusting himself on the couch and lining up with your slit, teasing it as your heart aches in eagerness and you can do nothing more than keep begging him shamelessly.
Hearing you beg is making him crazy, he swears he could stand still for hours only to hear you beg with your tear-filled eyes, but right now he just wants you too much to do it.
“Please, I need you”
You don't need to say anything else. His tip pushes inside your cunt and right after he grips your waist forcefully. His entire length slides inside you slowly, your mouth curving in a perfect 'o' from which nothing comes out as you pull away from his lips. Your breath hitches as he makes you sink onto him until you feel his pubic bone hitting against your swollen clit.
You're stuck, unable to breathe. You squeeze your eyes shout and cry out.
“Oh!” you feel so full. Full of him.
He gives you a few seconds to get used to his presence inside you and a heavy breath releases from his chest.
“Shit, you're so tight” he curses under his breath, bottom lip between his sparkling teeth and eyes closed for pleasure.
And then he starts guiding you onto him and you let yourself get carried by his hands, feeble like jelly as you meet his thrusts, moving slowly, moaning weakly.
“Aus” you whimper, each one of your moves against him only stretching you open more.
“Shh angel, you can handle it” he coos softly in your ear, leaving sweet kisses behind your lobe, helping you to ease the pain.
Your thighs are trembling as they wrap around his and your fingers slide between his blonde locks, trying to hold him closer than ever.
From this position, you can feel him completely. Every inch, curve, vein, and single part of him is inside you to the brim and is filling you perfectly with a combination of pain and pleasure that only Austin can give you.
You open your eyes and look at him. He's already staring at you and now your gazes lock together, making you both feel more connected with your soul than just your bodies and skin.
Your breaths mingle, your lips only a few inches distant from each other and ready to touch again with each thrust.
“You're taking me so well” he murmurs.
His forehead is sweaty, his lips are plump and red like yours, his jaw clenching as he watches you fall apart on his cock and babble something in response before moaning, struggling to take him.
You feel that familiar coil growing in you, your walls clench around his girth and you feel the base of your stomach burn every time his tip caresses your cervix.
It's too much for you. You stop, ready to surrender to his touch, but Austin holds you in place.
“Ah-ah. Stay still, pretty girl.” his fingers force you to sit straight, impaling you more and more on his cock.
“I-i can't...”
“C'mon little one, don't be a brat” he warns you as he starts guiding your hips again, with slow but intense strokes, the stimulation leading a whine to escape your lips before you stop again.
“Hmmph... t-too much...” you babble, it's the only thing you're barely able to say. You can't even talk.
It's so good, you just wish you had the strength to ride him faster but his cock's hitting you so deep you swear you could die in his arms.
Suddenly something draws his attention and forces him to look down.
You feel his hand press on your belly and you gasp in surprise. So you lower your head as well and see the outline of his cock poking out of your stomach.
The vision makes his cock twitch and your walls squeeze around him. He's in your guts.
“God, you look so hot like this” his gaze is burning on your skin, and you can say he definitely loves the sight in front of him. His pupils are dilated, and his breath is getting heavier. He's addicted “Small, desperate, and full of my cock”
You moan hard, turned on by his words and seeing how much he's going deep inside you with every stroke.
“‘s so deep inside you, uh?” he mocks you, his thumb rubbing your tummy as your eyes meet each other again.
“Y-yes! S-so deep” hearing your voice cracked and desperate leads him to one conclusion.
“Think you need daddy's help” suddenly his grip on your flesh tightens and with no warning he pushes you down onto him brutally, slamming his cock into you, bucking his hips upwards to start thrusting deeper, harder.
In a matter of seconds, your nails dig into the back of his hands and you scream, tilting your head back in pleasure.
“Aus- oh, god!” you moan louder, your mouth wide open as ecstasy takes over you, leading you to shake uncontrollably against his hips, making him grunt and moan.
“Keep moving, angel, don't stop...” he whispers as you try to follow his orders as far as your body permits you.
His cock is buried in you, he is fucking you so good you're barely able to move properly.
“Yes, just like that, baby, you're so good” his words keep hitting at your core, only spurring you to push yourself to your own limits as he starts leaving wet kisses on your throat “My good girl...”
"Please, please, please!" the fire inside you is ready to burst, your peak is getting closer and you want more.
“You wanna cum, angel?”
“Yes, yes please, n-need to cum!” hot tears start streaming down your cheeks and you moan again, again and again, scratching his hands and leaving bruises on his knuckles.
Everything seems to be so intense. Sweat is soaking your bodies, immersing you both in a hot-as-hell shower. The wet sound of bones and skins slapping floods your ears, your juices flowing down your thighs ruining the fine fabric of his expensive trousers.
You're so close and so is he. You feel in heaven.
“Then cum baby, cum around my cock” his voice shakes you inside, his tip hits that sweet spot in you and your vision goes blurry.
“Austin!” you cry out, your throat rips apart for the strength of your climax. Your orgasm washes over you and you convulse, the shocks running through your body are too strong and leave you powerless as you collapse on his chest.
“Fucking god” soon a growl of satisfaction slips from his throat, and his abdomen tightens underneath you. His grip loosens, thick ropes of his white cum spill inside you and paint your walls, making you shiver.
The room is now filled with silence, interrupted every now and then by the racing breaths escaping from both of your lungs.
You're exhausted.
“You did so good, angel, so good” he starts caressing your head gently, his praises warming your heart as you try to recover from the passionate fuck you two just had, but before you can say anything he picks you up and gets off the couch.
You whimper in surprise, finding the strenght to tie your legs and arms around the soft fabric of his suit as Austin's cock is still hard inside you.
“Let's go t' bed, baby” he announces, a wicked grin crossing his face “Wanna see how deep I can fill this pussy if I let you ride me on the mattress”
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a/n: okay sooo… what do you think? would you like to read anything else? i got five or six ideas to write in my drafts already 👀
Tag-list: @pennyroyalcreep @bcofl0ve @houndogsblog @gigisworldsstuff @emmaolsen @cryingabtab @slowsweetlove @fuckhoes1123 @cchl @auranightangle @spirited-away-to-mandalore @donnamarie23 @ab4eva @dancer4j @kibumslatina @denised916 @faeolwen @alqvarde @lilmisswoo93 @oldermenluverrr @eliseinmemphis @purejasmine @lillypink @sournatromanoff @lukedorkyhemmings @claudia-barnes @bo-burnhxm @lilac-presley @onlyangelssing @amorx
(the tag list is OPEN, comment down here if you wanna be added!)
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searchingforgravity · 4 months
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Your Hands (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)
Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Prompt: You and Elvis go to the Drive-in to see a movie, but you can't seem to keep your eyes on the screen.
TW: Dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), slight sub Elvis, slight mommy kink, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, bondage
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 2955
A/N: This is my first sub Elvis one, I've been wanting to do one like this for a while, I hope you guys like it!
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"What's goin' on, Satnin?" Elvis mumbles as he turns his attention to you.
You two are at the drive-in, watching one of the latest horror movies, but you can't keep your attention on the film; your eyes keep gravitating to his hand which is currently resting on the center console. Only when he moves his hand as he turns to you fully is when you look into his eyes.
"Are you not likin' the movie, baby?" he questions, disappointment laced in his tone.
"No- I mean yes, I'm enjoying it. I'm sorry Elvis," you fumble, your cheeks flushing a bit at getting caught being distracted.
"That's alright, Satnin. C'mere," he murmurs as he sneaks his arm behind your back, pulling you close to his side.
You sigh as you try to focus back on the movie, but as his hand rests on your hip, it feels like its burning through your shirt. You subconciously bite your lip as you think back to last night when he was touching you with that same hand, making you come undone more times than once.
"Alright, sweetheart, what's goin' on in that head a' yours?" he sighs, slight agitation in his tone.
"Nothing, Elvis, I'm trying to watch the movie!"
"The movie ain't down here!"
That's when you realize that your eyes were now glued to his other hand that is resting on his thigh. You quickly look back to the screen through the windshield, your cheeks flaming.
"Aw, c'mon now, mamma. I didn't mean to embarrass ya," he chuckles as he sits up turning his attention to you.
"You didn't," you lie, "I'm just a little distracted is all, but let's watch the movie."
"What's holdin' your attention like that?" he asks, even though you're sure he saw you staring at his hands. Something tells you that he wants to hear you say it.
"Nothing, Elvis! Can we just watch the movie please?" you sigh in exasperation, your face on fire.
"Alright! Alright," he chuckles as he sinks back in his seat, turning his attention back to the screen as well.
You are relieved when it seems like he's going to let it go, until you feel the hand resting on your side slip under your shirt, touching bare skin, his face coming to nuzzle into your hair. You shudder when you feel his warm breath on your neck, heat pooling to your already aching core.
"Elvis, please!" you hiss, though your mind is on everything but the screen at this point.
"You like my hands, Satnin?" he whispers in your ear like a secret. "Can't seem to take your eyes off 'em. What are you thinkin' 'bout?"
"I'm thinking I want to watch the movie, Elvis! Now stop it!"
Your anger is fueled solely by embarrassment, Elvis knows you well enough to know this, too. He pulls you in closer as he nuzzles his face further into your neck, gently kissing it, making your eyes close on their own accord.
"We both know that's not gonna happen."
He gently rubs his hand on your side, massaging it gently.
"Now, my pretty girl is gonna tell me what's on her mind."
You aren't quite ready to relent yet as you open your eyes again, turning your attention to the movie. He withdraws his mouth from your neck when he notices your change in attitude, his eyes narrowing on you.
"Ah, you're gonna be a little brat, huh? Not gonna let me help you?"
You don't respond, keeping your eyes on the screen, with a considerable amount of effort.
"C'mon, Satnin, don't be actin' like this."
Silence.
"I'm just tryin' to help you. You're the one that's drippin' for me."
You turn to him, your body on fire.
"I am not, Elvis!"
He quirks his eyebrow, amusement on his features at your flustered state.
"Oh, really? Let me check."
"No!"
"Well, if you're not, then it shouldn't be a problem, should it, baby?"
You huff at his smugness as you untangle yourself from him, grabbing a bag of snacks from the back seat. Fishing out a random bag of sour candy, you rip it open harsher than you intend to, causing the candy to spill out all over his car.
"Damn it!" you sigh under your breath.
Elvis reaches down to help you pick up the mess you made as he chuckles to himself.
"Always makin' such a mess."
You roll your eyes as you focus on picking up the spilled candy. When it's all picked up, he reaches for you again, pulling you against him before you can protest.
"Just let me hold you, I'll stop teasin'" He groans in your ear. "We can just watch the movie."
You couldn't care less about the movie right now, and when you chance a glance at Elvis' pants from his tone of voice, you don't think he cares much about it either. Nevertheless, you settle back into him as you focus your attention on the screen.
The torture really starts when Elvis starts eating the candy, his fingers disappearing into his mouth before he pulls them back out; not before sucking the sugar off of them first. He has to be doing this to tease you, it's the same motion he was doing last night, only it wasn't candy he was sucking off his fingers.
"I was thinking about what you did last night," you murmur, your eyes focusing back on the screen, too anxious to make eye contact with him.
He sits silent for a few seconds and you wonder if he's heard you.
"Do you want me to do it again?"
You finally pull your eyes away from the screen and look at him to see him already looking at you, his eyes dark and intense; unwavering with hunger. You don't know what to say, you feel as if you are caught in headlights. You place your hand on his thigh to steady yourself.
"We came here to see a movie, Elvis."
"Fuck the movie," he groans as he suddenly leans forward, capturing your mouth in a needy kiss.
You don't even pretend to not want his kiss as you deepen it, slipping your tongue into his mouth, tasting the sour candy on him. He pulls away for a moment, his lips inches from yours, his breath warm on your face.
"Sit back."
A shock wave runs through you as you lean back in your seat.
"Put the seat back as far as it'll go," he gently orders.
You quickly find the lever on the side of the seat as you pull it up, easing the seat back. Elvis doesn't waste time as he shrugs his jacket off, moving over to you as he drops to his knees on the floor of the passenger seat. His hands instantly come to your thighs as he tucks them under your skirt, spreading them apart as he peaks up at you.
You are completely mesmerized as you look down at him. His eyes are begging as he waits for you.
"Why are you waiting?"
He hesitates only for a moment before he responds.
"Tell me what to do."
You pause.
"What do you mean?"
He leans down, placing soft kisses along your thighs, so light they almost tickle.
"Order me around."
You never thought you would hear those words come out of his mouth, but now that you had, a new feeling makes it's way through your body.
"Kiss me."
He starts to climb up off the floor to kiss your lips when you place your foot on his shoulder to keep him where he is.
"Not there."
His eyes darken as he kisses your ankle, working his way back up to your thighs. He easily hoists your legs over his shoulders as he hitches your skirt up, revealing your pink panties. A deep groan leaves his throat when he sees just how wet you are, soaking through completely.
"I was thinking about your hands on me. How good you made me feel last night with them. I can't stop thinking about them. I want you to make me feel good again."
"I will, Satnin. Gonna make you feel real good."
He leans forward, gently kissing you over your panties, making your eyes flutter closed as you dig your heels into his back, forcing his face further against you. You feel his groan against your core, making your head fall back against the seat.
"Let me take these off," he mumbles as his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties.
"Not yet."
He sighs as he obeys, resuming his kisses on your core before softly licking you through your panties. You gasp as your hands quickly make their way to his hair, gripping it softly.
"You make me so hard, Satnin" he whines, his hands gently squeezing your thighs in response before applying more pressure as he laps up the wetness on your soaking panties.
"Alright, take them off already," you groan, feeling him grin against you.
In an instant, there off as he quickly slips them down your legs, waisting no time as his mouth gently latches on to your clit, his touch flicking it gently.
"Fuck, Elvis," you gasp out as your grip tightens on his hair, earning a pained groan from his throat.
His tongue continues its torturous, gentle assault on you as he circles your clit a few more times before traveling down to your opening and, with little effort, slips it inside.
You gasp out as you lurch up at the sudden intrusion before settling back into your seat. His right hand travels up your body in response, slipping under your shirt and sneaking inside your bra. Your head falls back further when he messages your nipple between his thumb and finger, a long moan escaping from your lips, your mind completely muddled from his actions.
"Taste's so good, mommy," he grumbles when he comes up for air before dipping back down to latch on to your clit, his voice drunken on you, laced with desire.
Your eyes roll back when you feel his finger at your entrance, playing with it softly before pushing it in gently. You take the opportunity to look down at him and he looks completely lost in you. His eyes closed in concentration, his mouth closed around you as he sits sunken to his knees.
The sight makes you groan out as your hands, still buried in his hair, push him further on to you. Your legs tighten around him at he adds a second finger, reaching the same spot inside you that he did last night as his fingers curl inside.
"Oh God, baby, don't stop," you whine as you buck up into him, your orgasm already close.
Elvis licks you more adamantly when he hears you, knowing your close. He hums into you and when you look down to him, he is already looking up at you, his eyes drinking you in, loving the sight of you. It doesn't take long before you are squeezing your eyes and your legs as you pulsate around him, crying out as you grip his hair for dear life.
When you start coming down from your high, you feel light kisses along your thighs as his hands come to rub your legs.
"Let's go to the back," you breathe.
In an instant he brings his face up to your, enveloping you in a desperate kiss. You hum into his mouth as you taste yourself on him.
"I'm so fuckin' hard," he groans.
You trail your hand to feel him through his pants, gently palming him. He wasn't lying. Groaning, his face falls into the crook of your neck, bucking into your hand.
"C'mon baby. I'll make you feel better," you whisper into his ear before moving for the back seat, pulling him with you.
After instructing him to lay down, you make quick work of his jeans, unbuckling his belt and unthreading it from it's loops.
"Put your hands above your head."
To your surprise, he doesn't protest. He does instantly as he waits for you. You wrap his hands in the belt so it resembles a figure 8, making sure to tighten it enough so that he can't get out. After your pleased with your work, you lean down giving him deep kiss.
"Please," he whispers, his hips lifting gently making you feel how much he needs you.
Hearing his beg sends a shudder body your body making you even more wet than before.
"Okay baby. You've been so good, haven't you?"
"Yes, mommy."
You reach for his pants, unzipping him and pulling his underwear down along with them. He helps you as he lifts his hips, making it easier for you. After his bottom half is bare, you just admire him for a moment, looking at how impossible hard he is for you, his tip leaking the tiniest bit.
"Please, Satnin," he whines, his voice sounding pained at his lack of relief.
Lining yourself up on top of him, you strip yourself of your shirt and bra, knowing it will drive him crazy not being able to touch you.
"That's not fair, mamma," he complains, his eyes begging as he looks at your breasts, his hands clenching in his restraints.
"Do you want this or not?"
"Yes."
"Then stop complaining," you order. He groans in response but doesn't say anything else as he waits a bit impatiently now.
Slowly, with your hands on his chest to steady yourself, you sink down on him and he easily slides into you.
You both gasp at the feeling of him inside you, stretching you.
"Fuck," he groans, his head falling back against the back seat.
Your hands grip his chest as you lift yourself up, sinking back down on him, circling your hips when your fully seated on him. Setting a quick pace, bouncing on him, you both quickly turn into moaning messes.
"God, Elvis," you whine, your head leaning back.
His hips softly buck up into yours, craving more friction. At feeling this, you instantly stop. A stuttering breath leaves his mouth at your action.
"B-Baby-"
"Don't do that again or I'll stop," you interrupt.
"Okay! I won't, I won't. Please, baby, please, don't stop. Please, honey," he pleads, his voice hoarse.
At this you start again, slightly increasing your speed, making his breath hitch.
Looking to his hands, those damn perfect hands, you see his veins bulging from him resisting the restraints. You groan at the sight as you lean back, achieving a deeper angle as you both moan out.
"Goddamn! Shit, I wanna touch you," he moans, sweat forming on his chest from pure exertion. You shush him when he says this.
"Watch me touch myself."
He whimpers when he hears this, but trails his eyes down to your core where your hand trails down, circling your clit in fast, tight motions.
Your head falls back again at the feeling, and you know your close again.
"Oh mamma, it's torture," he whines, his head falling back as you come down on him harder than before, chasing your orgasm.
You can tell he's close as groan after groan leaves his swollen lips.
"You better not come before me," you groan, making him whine out.
"Sweetheart, I can't take it."
"Yes you can."
He groans as he clenches his eyes shut, trying to hold off his orgasm.
"You feel so good, baby. You make me feel so good, mommy," he breathes, his words going straight to your core.
It's not long before you come undone for the second time that night, and he gets there almost immediately after you, and he can't help the slight buck of his hips as he releases into you, his veins nearly bulging from his hands against the restraints.
After you come down from your high, you nearly collapse on top of him, your breathing ragged.
"Such a good girl," he praises, kisses your forehead.
You lay your head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat. You two just lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath, when you hear a knock on the window.
You both freeze. Maybe you imagined it.
Another, harsher knock.
"Police! Open up!"
You quickly sit up, slipping your shirt over your head and shoving Elvis' pants over his legs. You are about to open the door when Elvis stops you.
"(Y/N), the belt!" he hisses, his cheeks a deep red.
"Oh!" you gasp, a giggle slipping from your lips as you quickly undo it.
He sighs as he rubs his sore wrists before smoothing his hair and rolling down the window after checking to make sure you're decent.
"Good evening officer," Elvis says sheepishly, his face red in embarrassment.
"Look son, you can't be fornica-" The officer, probably the same age as the two of you, starts before seeing who he's talking to.
When he realizes who he's caught in the act, his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.
"Mr. Elvis Presley!" he starts, making you have to cover your face to hide your grin.
"Well- uh, hello ma'am," he continues, completely flustered as he looks you over. You see Elvis' expression instantly change as he sees the officer looking you over.
"Are we in any kinda trouble, officer?" he snaps, making the young man look back to him.
"No! Absolutely not. Have a great rest of the evening. I hear this movie is a real good one. Goodnight, and be safe getting home tonight."
With that, the officer walks off, leaving you and Elvis giggling to each other and he pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead with a smug grin on his face.
Masterlist
Taglist:
@flowersofcement @peaceloveelvis @looloolily @littlehoneyposts @elvisalltheway101 @horrorgirl4life @goldobsessionsworld @father-of-2cats @tantamount-treason
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headfullofpresley · 1 year
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Mommy's Kissing Santa Claus
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Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader
Summary: Caroline considers Santa to be her own personal superhero, but she isn't too happy about catching him kissing you. Because no matter what, her Daddy will always be number one.
Word count: 5,5K
Warning(s): fluff, domestic life, Caroline being sad/angry, Elvis dressing up as Santa, smut; just a quick morning quickie that isn't too detailed tbh, roleplaying (kinda.. lol).
Author's note: this was requested a while ago by anon, so nonnie, i hope this finds its way back to ya! enjoy luvs <3
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“I saw Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night. She didn’t see me creep down the stairs to have a peep; she thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom, fast asleep. Then I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus underneath his beard so snowy white. Oh what a laugh it would’ve been if Daddy had only seen, Mommy kissin’ Santa Claus last night.”
Five year old Caroline adored Christmas. The decorations, the songs, the movies, the presents… but especially, Santa Claus. The bearded man that she believed flew across the world in his sleigh in the span of one night was a God to her.
While most children would weep upon the sight of a strange man in a red suit and a long white beard, Caroline was over the moon every single year. Even as a baby and before she could even speak a word, she would giggle and run up to whoever was dressed up as the man as soon as she could walk – or waddle.
She had no idea it was usually her grandfather or The Colonel who’d pay her a quick visit during Christmas day.
Caroline was the definition of a true Daddy’s girl, but Santa came pretty darn close to stealing Elvis’ spot during the month of December.
“Daddy, that’s wrong! Santa doesn’t have a green hat!” the tiny blonde giggled as she sat on top of the kitchen counter, looking at the freshly baked Christmas cookies her and Elvis spend their time on this afternoon. He purposely colored the hat of the Santa shaped cookie green, because he knew those little hawk eyes of hers would notice immediately.
“Maybe he does this year, honey,” he smirked at his daughter, licking some icing off his finger as he watched her laugh at him before shaking her head and returning her attention back on the tray of cookies. She squeezed a tiny dot of brown coloring gel on one of the reindeers, swinging her legs back and forth happily.
The red boots that she begged you to wear this morning were still on her feet, hitting the kitchen cabinets softly with her movements.
“You’re funny, Daddy.. but these cookies have to be perfect!” she told him with a stern voice. “What if Santa thinks we’re makin’ fun of him and won’t eat them? Mommy says sending letters to the North Pole takes a very long time,”
Elvis was often mesmerized by his daughter. Not only because she reminded him so much of both you and him, but also because she often spoke like she was much older. He figured it was probably because she spend so much time around adults when she wasn’t in school and she’d pick up anything she would hear.
Sometimes it caused for very funny conversations with her and sometimes she’d just embarrass Elvis and you when she had overheard the both of you talk about something or someone that was not meant to ever leave the four walls of this house.
Luckily, it had never been anything too serious.
“If Santa don’t like ‘em, I will deliver all those little apology letters of yours to him myself,” Elvis chuckled as he put the cookie he was working on on a Christmas decorative plate that had been hidden in the back of one of the cabinets. “But he will love your cookies. I bet he can’t get ‘nough of ‘em. Have you seen that fella’s tummy?”
Caroline looked up at him with wide eyes, taking the cookie with the green hat and shoving it into his hand. “Don’t be mean to Santa, Daddy, or you won’t get a present!”
He let out a hearty laugh, biting off the hat of the cookie as he squeezed her toes through her boots, making her squeal as she giggled and stuck her tongue out to him.
When all cookies were drawn on and she was satisfied with them, she took the plate Elvis handed her after he put her down on the ground and walked toward the staircase in the foyer. You had put a small table and a dining room chair right next to the stairs especially for Santa, your daughter unaware that you’d move the furniture back as soon as she was asleep and the cookies were eaten by you and her father.
“I need to get my drawing!” she told Elvis as she put the plate down and climbed up the stairs to get whatever she made for Santa to put it down with the cookies.
As she disappeared into her bedroom, you entered the house with shopping bags clinging in your hands and snowflakes covering your hair. You let out a huff as you closed the door behind you with your elbow, wiggling the cold and red tip of your nose.
“Next year I am back on baking duty,” you told your husband, trying not to crack a smile as he laughed at you and made his way over to you, taking the bags from your hands.
Usually, he would be the one doing the last minute shopping or have the things you needed to be delivered to the house but Caroline insisted he would stay home today and bake those cookies with her. All you really needed were some small presents for Vernon and Dee and some last minute groceries for tomorrow’s dinner.
You gave Mary the week off so she could spend time with her family during the holidays and you could provide a feast for yours.
“Sorry darlin’, can’t help it that she loves her Daddy more,” Elvis grinned as he took the presents out of the bags and put them underneath the tree in the living area before Caroline came back down. “If it makes ya feel any better, she got mad at me for talkin’ shit about her hero of the year,”
You didn’t miss the roll of his eyes and laughed, pulling the scarf you were wearing from around your neck. “She does not love you more, you’re just easier to manipulate,” you grinned teasingly at him, letting him take the grocery bags from you as well as he wandered back to you. “And she loves Santa more than you,”
You weren’t bothered by the fact that your daughter was a Daddy’s girl because when he’d be away from home and on the road, she would always stick to your side like glue. Elvis on the other side wasn’t so unbothered, hating that Caroline would not stop talking about Santa, Santa, Santa.
You loved to tease him with it.
“She loves that fool more than both of us,” he stuck his tongue out to you, walking into the kitchen to unpack the groceries and put them away. He chuckled softly to himself at the sound of your laugh and Caroline thundering down the stairs, running into your arms as soon as she saw you.
“Mommy, look! I made this for Santa to put with the cookies me and Daddy made,” she shoved the drawing in your face as you carried her toward the little nook you had created for Santa Claus himself.
“Wow Care, that’s beautiful! He will love it, baby,” you smiled at her, kissing her cheek as you placed her down so she could neatly place the drawing she made on the table, next to the plate of decorated cookies. The drawing consisted of three stick figures – you and Elvis being the taller ones and her being the small one in the middle.
Ofcourse, she had drawn Santa as well, only he was in an array of red crayon. You could only really recognize who it was by the white beard she managed to get quite accurate. It was cute.
“Did you buy enough milk, Mommy? He will be a lot thirsty,”
“Very thirsty, not a lot, baby,” you corrected her with a soft laugh, kneeling down next to her to look at the cookies. You could see which ones were decorated by her and which ones by Elvis. It didn’t really matter, they’d taste the same to you. “But yes, I have plenty of milk. We’ll pour him a glass before you go to bed, okay?”
“Two glasses?”
“If you’re a big girl and eat all of your veggies tonight, we’ll give him three!” you told her and she smiled excitedly, wrapping her arms around your neck as she leaned into you.
You were pretty sure she would definitely not eat all of her vegetables–she was her father’s daughter, after all–but you’d give her what she wanted and put three glasses of milk ready for Santa, anyways.
You found it hard to tell her no, because she was such a sweet girl.
She was your entire world.
 
Caroline surprised both you and Elvis as she shoved every single vegetable on her plate in her little mouth. It took her a while to chew everything down and she was the last to finish, but she couldn’t disappoint Santa, could she?
After sliding down chimneys all night, he must be extremely hungry and thirsty and she worked hard for those three glasses of milk.
You let them both go upstairs after dinner so Elvis could give her a bath and put her in her pyjamas as you cleaned the table and did the dishes.
Besides Mary, you basically gave everyone time off because you wanted to spend Christmas Eve with just your husband and daughter. Tomorrow the family and some of the guys would come over and the house will be rowdy again, so you were excited for the relaxing and quiet night you had planned.
You quite enjoyed yourself in the kitchen, cleaning and listening to the background noise that was the TV in the dining room.
 
You turned the TV off as you were done in the kitchen and heard Elvis and Caroline coming down the stairs. After getting some drinks, you followed them into the TV room and got ready for the movie Caroline had recently become obsessed with.
Scrooge.
She watched it with Dee’s sons a month ago and then made you and Elvis watch it with her again.
And again, and again, and again.
Neither of you could say no to her, even though you couldn’t care less about this movie.
Caroline snuggled in between you and Elvis, leaning into his side as her legs rested on your lap. She���d speak up now and then to point out a part in the movie that she liked and wanted you to pay attention to. But she had been running around all day, playing in the snow, helping Daddy feed the horses, baking cookies – she was tired, so tired that she couldn’t keep her eyes from fluttering shut despite loving the movie so much.
“Mommy!” she gasped softly as she shocked awake due to a loud noise from the TV, looking at you with wide eyes. “If I fall a-asleep.. wake me up, okay? I-I can’t miss.. Santa..” she mumbled, laying her head on Elvis’ chest as she pulled her legs in, holding onto his shirt with her tiny hand.
She didn’t seem to believe you when you told her that you would and looked up at her father. “Daddy, don’t forget, okay?!” she urged him, her voice thick with exhaustion and though her eyes were heavy, she wouldn’t put her head back down unless she got confirmation.
Elvis laughed softly as he looked at her, kissing her forehead. “I promise, yittle. Put your little head down,” he whispered to her, gently pushing her head back down on his chest as he tickled his fingers through her hair.
It didn’t take her long to drift off into a deep slumber.
You and Elvis didn’t wake her up, deciding that she needed all the sleep she could get for Christmas day tomorrow. She probably wouldn’t be too happy about it once she’d wake up and realise it was the next day, but she’d forgive you for it later. Especially when she’d see the presents she got from you and Elvis, her innocent little mind believing that they were from Santa himself.
 
“I’ll get her to bed,” you whispered as the movie ended which you and Elvis had talked your whole way through. Too comfortable on the couch to turn the TV off and move into the living room, plus Caroline looked too cute sleeping and you didn’t want to wake her. But it was getting late and you and your husband could use some rest as well.
“I’ll be upstairs,” he told you as you picked up Caroline in your arms, kissing your lips as he silently followed you up the stairs. You walked up the main staircase as Elvis made his way to the living room.
Thankfully, Caroline didn’t wake up when you carried her up the stairs and put her to bed. She mumbled something in her sleep and fuzzed in the sheets a little, but she went back to snoring softly before you left the room. You took the opportunity to clean up some of her toys that were scathered around the room and put the clothes away she wore today that Elvis put on her chair.
When you closed the door behind you afterwards and walked down the stairs, you frowned as Elvis was nowhere to be seen. The TV in both the dining and music room were turned off. The house felt empty.
“El? Baby?” you called out softly, looking around as you reached the bottom of the stairs.
Once he cleared his throat and you turned around, you saw him sitting in the Santa nook, cookie in hand and clothed in the Santa suit his dad or manager usually wore. You figured he must’ve put something around his waist, because he filled out the costume that would otherwise be too big for him.
“Merry Christmas to you, madame,” he grinned as he put the cookie down, slapping his hand on his thigh. You pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh as you walked over to him and sat down on his lap, slipping your arm around his shoulder. “Are these cookies for me, pretty lady?”
You cleared your throat a little, a soft giggle escaping your throat nonetheless. He had never dressed up as Santa for Caroline, both of you afraid that she would recognize him instantly.
You thought he looked ridiculous, but the way his voice deepened as he spoke to mimick a Santa like voice and his blue eyes were pretty much undressing you the second he saw you, you couldn’t help but feel a tingle run down your spine.
“They certainly are, mr. Claus. My daughter and husband made them especially for you,” you grinned, placing your hand on his stomach. Or rather the pillow you realised he had put in the costume.
“Your husband, you say?” he hummed, picking up the cookie once more as he took a bite of it now. “Isn’t he a lucky man to have such a beautiful little thing runnin’ around the place,” he put the cookie in front of your lips, his hand finding your ass as his arm was resting around your waist.
You feigned a gasp, gently pushing his hand away from your face as you looked at him. “My, mr. Claus. You’re very handsy, aren’t you? What would my husband think?”
“Well honey, your husband ain’t here, is he?”
He dropped the half eaten cookie back on the plate, wiping some crumbs off his fingers with the napkin you had put next to the plate earlier today. His palm squeezed your ass softly, pushing you firmly against his chest as your hand traveled over the hill of his fake belly and over his chest to wrap it around his neck.
“Now tell me, mrs. Presley. Have you been naughty or nice?”
His words made you want to rip that white beard he was sporting off his face and shut him up with a kiss. You didn’t feel awkward anymore at his little act–not when he was looking at you like that while his palm was shamelessly massaging your ass–and rather felt arousal seeping into your being.
Roleplaying wasn’t rare for you and Elvis, but you never thought him being dressed up as Santa Claus would get you as turned on as it did.
“I’m always very nice,” you told him as you laced your fingers together behind his neck, plastering your most innocent smile on your face. “But I can definitely be naughty too, mr. Claus,”
“Why don’t you show me how naughty you can be, darlin’?” his hand was quick as it reached up to his face, pulling the beard down before he leaned in to you. You giggled softly, gently swatting his hand away before you put the beard back in its place, kissing him.
He laughed softly against your lips but didn’t question you on it, instead fully trapping you against him as he wrapped his other arm around you as well, deepening the kiss.
 
Caroline shot up in her bed as soon as she awoke out of her sleep not even twenty minutes after you put her to bed. The little Presley girl didn’t think twice to hop out of her bed and walk over to the window, pouting heavily when she realised it was still night time and she was not downstairs waiting for her beloved Santa Claus right now.
You and Elvis promised to wake her and she felt betrayed that you hadn’t.
She had no idea what time it was and if you were still awake, but she figured getting caught would be worth the risk. Tiptoeing to her door, she slowly opened it and shuffled to the top of the stairs – when she saw that the only light that illuminated the foyer came from the Christmas tree, she very slowly and quietly stepped down a few steps.
Not wanting to scare Santa if he was already here, she peeked over the bannister of the stairs and widened her eyes as she saw the white bearded man with his signature red hat and suit sitting in the seat you and her had provided for him. She would’ve thundered down the stairs if it wasn’t for you sitting in his lap, lips pressed against those of her hero.
The one who provided her with the toys she wanted every year, the one who paid her a visit every Christmas day.
She loved him, but he was not her father.
Only Daddy was allowed to kiss you on the lips, not Santa Claus. Not nobody else.
Tears stung in her blue eyes as she grabbed onto the bars of the bannister, watching the kiss for a few seconds before she ran back up the stairs and hid underneath her blankets, silently crying herself to sleep.
You and Elvis were too occupied to hear Caroline coming up and down the stairs and as you tugged him up from the seat to take him into your shared bedroom, he quickly stole the plate of cookies along with him.
 
You and Elvis woke up early the next morning despite that Santa costume keeping you both awake until the dead of the night. You expected Caroline to stand at the side of your bed by now seeing it was already 8 o’clock because she could never wait until she was allowed to unwrap her presents. This morning, the bedroom was silent aside from Elvis’ soft snoring.
You sat up in the bed and looked at your husband, laughing softly as you took the Santa hat that was clutched in his hand, throwing it onto the floor. You leaned over to him and planted soft kisses on his shoulder and up to his face. He groaned softly as you woke him, his limbs stretching out in front of him before he turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, forcing you to lay back down next to him.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” you whispered with a soft laugh as he hid his face in your neck, squeezing you in his embrace.
“Mwerry Chwistmas, little one,” he hummed sleepily against your skin before he kissed your neck, the faint hint of your perfume that lingered in your neck making him roll onto his back, taking you right with him.
“We don’t get a lot of Christmas mornings like this one,” he mumbled as he grinned, his hands running up your thighs to squeeze at your hips.
He was right, you didn’t. You’d either be woken up by Caroline or by the doorbell that announced the arrival of today’s company. You told them to come a little later this year, so you and your family had time to actually eat breakfast and get ready for the day.
Now that you and Elvis had a bit of time for yourselves, he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of it.
His eyes caught sight of the Santa hat on the floor and he was quick to grab it before returning to his warm spot on the bed with you atop of him. “You had a lot of time with mr. Claus last night, it’s only fair if I get some sweetness from mrs. Claus,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he held out the hat to you.
You laughed and rolled your eyes, grasping it from his hand as you put it crookedly on top of your head. He bit his lip and moved his hands up your sides, slipping toward your front to squeeze your bare breasts in the palm of his hand.
Neither of you bothered to put on clothes before you fell asleep last night, so he didn’t need to wait for you to peel off pieces of fabric for you to raise your hips and sink down onto him.
He groaned as he moved his hands underneath his head, watching you ride him with a cocky smirk on his face.
“You look so sexy, baby,” he mummered as his eyes wandered down from your face to your bouncing breasts, voice sounding hoarse as it was still heavy with sleep. It only motivated you to go faster.
The idea of Caroline wandering into the room any minute was also on your mind, but Elvis didn’t mind you chasing your climax with slight hurry. He decided to help you get there even faster, reaching one hand down to circle your clit rapidly with his thumb.
The both of you had to bite down on your tongues to not moan too loud and while Elvis loved hearing you make those pretty sounds for him, he knew he could not make you truly scream while Caroline was also in the house.
Luckily for him, she had a sleepover planned at his father’s house next week.
Thanks to Elvis’ digit, you were quick to reach your climax and he followed not long after because of how visciously you were clenching around him.
“We should.. should check on Care,” you breathed as you ripped the fluffy hat off your head, throwing it across the bed before you leaned down and kissed your husband, who mumbled a soft agreement against your lips but made no movements to leave the warmth of the bed.
 
Caroline had been up before you and Elvis, but instead of walking into your room to tug on your blankets until either you or Elvis woke up, she went straight to the living room.
She was a girl on a mission today and it wasn’t a very fun one.
She was angry – at you, at Santa, and even a little bit at Elvis.
The little girl was still in disbelief of what she had seen last night. She just couldn’t wrap her little head around the fact that you kissed someone that was not Daddy and that Santa kissed you back.
And where was her Daddy while you exchanged smooches with her hero? He should’ve been there to stop it. Maybe even kick Santa’s ass a little.
She wandered over to the Christmas tree, taking the ornaments out one by one. Santa Claus didn’t deserve a nice tree anymore – if he would come by the house today, she would show him that she was angry with him.
Once you and Elvis came down the stairs and saw the bottom of the tree empty from its usual ornaments and Caroline gathering the sparkly garlands in her arms, you widened your eyes.
“Caroline, what is this?!” you exclaimed in confusion as you walked over to her to lift her up your hip. She crossed her arms firmly against her chest, the garlands crunching in her arms as she turned away from you with an angry expression taking over her features. “Caroline, I’m talkin’ to you,”
“I don’t want to talk to you!” she huffed as she stared at the chair by the stairs Santa had sat on last night.
“Caroline Mae Presley, don’t talk to your mother like that,” Elvis warned her as he stood next to you, looking at his daughter. But she didn’t look at him, hanging back in your arms so she’d be heavier for you to hold. “You know you’re not allowed to go downstairs before waking us. Why did you dissect the tree?”
She didn’t want to tell him or you how she was feeling, but she had a weakness for Elvis and she felt sad for him. He didn’t know what happened last night – while she was still young, she knew it was a bad thing. A bad thing that would hurt her precious father.
“I’m mad,” she mumbled and you allowed Elvis to take her out of your arms, walking over to the couch to sit down on it with her in his lap. She unfolded her arms and looked at her hands as you took the garlands out of her arms to put them back in their place.
“Yittle, if you’re mad, you come talk to Mommy or me. What does my tree have to do with anythin’, huh?” he grinned playfully at her as he tickled her sides. Usually, she would giggle and cheer up, but this time she pouted and pushed his big hand off.
“I’m mad.. m-mad.. at Santa,” she whispered, touching the small charm bracelet you gifted her for her last birthday that she never wanted to take off.
“Why, baby? Santa brought you a lot of presents,” Elvis told her as he nodded his head over to you. You smiled at your daughter as she finally looked up and you nodded, holding up a few wrapped presents Elvis put under the tree last night as you were putting Caroline to bed.
It looked like a smile was about to break the angry act she was putting on, but she huffed and looked down again. “I’m mad at Mommy too,”
You raised your eyebrows in confusion as you put the presents back under the tree, getting up to walk over to the couch. You sat down next to Elvis and looked at the pouty blonde in his lap, taking her small hands in yours. She pulled them out of your grip immediately, looking away.
Elvis saw the hurt in your eyes and sighed deeply, knowing playing nice would get him nowhere with his headstrong daughter.
He had finally met his match – it was more exhausting than he ever expected.
“Caroline, don’t be like that to your mother and tell us why you’re so mad. We don’t know what’s goin’ on if you don’t use your words,” he bounced his leg she was sitting on once, making her look at him with a glare.
Her face expressions softened a little when she saw both you and him looking at her so seriously and she couldn’t stop her bottomlip from twitching, her emotions getting the best of her. As soon as tears started welling up in her eyes, she pressed her face in Elvis’ chest and grabbed onto the shirt he was wearing.
“You and Mommy don’t love each other anymore,” she cried, her words coming out muffled. Elvis gently grabbed her shoulders, trying to pull her off him so she could speak more clearly but she managed to wrap her arms around his neck, clinging onto him. “And it’s all Santa’s fault,”
You exchanged a look with Elvis and frowned, running your hand through your daughter’s hair. “Honey, what are you talking about?”
Upon the sound of your voice, she pulled away from Elvis and looked at you, tears freely rolling down her cheeks.
“Oh Mommy, please don’t leave Daddy all alone!” she cried as she stretched her arms out to you. She had been so angry with you only minutes ago, but the thought of you leaving and running off to the North Pole with Santa Claus broke her little heart. You immediately took her in your arms and caressed her hair out of her face, wiping her tears away. “Don’t leave me and Daddy!”
“Care, how’d you get that idea? Baby, I’m not leaving you and Daddy,” you told her, kissing her forehead before she wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly.
“But last n-night.. you.. you.. were k-kissing.. S-Santa..” she hiccuped over your shoulder, squeezing you tightly in her little arms as if she was afraid you’d disappear into thin air. “You are in l-love with Santa C-Clause,”
You looked at Elvis and he widened his eyes, letting out a hearty laugh as he leaned back in the couch, throwing his head on the back rest of it. You gave him a warning glare but couldn’t stop yourself from giggling softly too, rubbing your hand up and down Caroline’s back soothingly as Elvis hid his mouth behind his hand to muffle his laughter.
“Care bear, look at me,” you chuckled softly as you grabbed her arms, pulling her out of your embrace so she’d look at you. Her hands rested on your shoulders as she sniffed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “What you saw last night… was me hugging Santa…”
Elvis stopped laughing as he grinned cheekily, waiting for you to explain to your five year old what she had seen. You silently begged for help and he cleared his throat a little, scooting closer to you and Caroline. “Yittle, Mommy was comfortin’ Santa last night. You see, Daddy forgot to put his milk by the cookies last night and Santa was so sad, because he thought we had forgotten about him,” he explained to her as she looked at him, listening while repeating his words over and over again in her head.
“Yes! And I told him we definitely did not forget about him. He was also a little sad that you fell asleep, baby girl, so I gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek,”
She turned to you, her eyes still a little red as she sniffed once more. “Really?”
“Promise. Would we ever lie to you?” Elvis chimed in, smiling at her and she shook her head.
To her, you and Elvis were perfect and would never ever tell her a lie. Not a big one, nor a small one.
“No,” she whispered. “So you will stay with me and Daddy?”
You looked at her and laughed softly, nodding as you pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Yes baby, I’m going to stay with you and Daddy forever and ever,”
She smiled softly, nodding her head heavily as she seemed to buy the story you and Elvis told her. Honestly, it wasn’t a very good one, but the only thing you could come up with on the spot.
And for five year old Caroline, the story sounded solid.
“Okay,” she said, grabbing Elvis’ hand as she kept her other hand on your shoulder. “Daddy is more beautiful than Santa,”
Elvis grinned widely, raising his chin smugly. “That’s what I thought, honey,”
You rolled your eyes and laughed, rising from the couch with Caroline in your arms. “Now Santa, me and Daddy will appreciate it very much if you put the ornaments back in the tree. Let Daddy help you,” you grinned, kissing her temple before you put her back on her own two feet. She nodded and walked over to the tree, sitting on her knees as she did what you told her to.
Elvis slipped his arm around your waist, squeezing your ass as he pushed you against his chest. “Seems like we should keep the costume strictly for the bedroom, huh?”
“Definitely,” you laughed softly, kissing his chin. “Without the beard next time, though,”
“I didn’t hear ya complainin’ when I was in between your legs with it last night,” he whispered teasingly with a grin on his face, raising an eyebrow.
You playfully slapped his chest, laughing. “I was feelin’ festive, but Christmas is almost over, baby,”
“Not in this house,” he wiggled his eyebrows, leaning down to kiss you. The moment was interrupted sooner than he liked by Caroline who called out to him.
“Daddy, help me!” she yelled as she had managed to get herself twisted in a string of garland, looking at him with a goofy smile on her face.
“You truly are your mother’s child,” he laughed as he shot you a wink, walking over to his daughter to help her get out of the small trap she got herself into and to help her re-decorate the lower half of the tree.
You laughed as you watched them for a little bit before disappearing into the kitchen to start on breakfast.
In an hour or so, the house would be filled with family and friends again, disrupting the peaceful bubble you had been in since yesterday.
You didn’t mind it all that much, though. And as long as Caroline would have a good time, you didn’t care if the house was empty or full.
918 notes · View notes
sargeant-bxrnes · 2 years
Text
thirty seconds. [a.b]
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summary; austin has to leave bed early in the morning to go to work, but promises to stay if you manage to keep him in bed for over 30 seconds.
warnings: lots dirty talk, teasing, fingering, biting?, slight d/s dynamic, unprotected, rough sex, creampie, this one is nastyyy.
word count: 3.5K.
my masterlist!
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The feeling of Austin's body moving beside you woke you from your slumber, you heard him let out a yawn, his body unconsciously inching closer to yours while you slowly blinked your sleep away.
"Good mornin'," his deep voice greeted you, raspy from sleep.
You gazed at him, admiring how attractive he looked. His deep voice, his warm, soft skin against yours, and the memories of what happened last night prompted you to press your lips to his.
Austin was certainly surprised, but not displeased. He pursued the kiss, placing a hand on your cheek as you placed yours on his bicep, squeezing it gently.
"Good mornin'" you mumbled in between kisses, barely pulling away for long enough.
"What time is it?" Austin mumbled, pulling away from your lips, but maintaining his hand on your cheek.
Not wanting him to focus on that right now, you pulled him closer again, his soft pink lips pressing against yours as he gave in momentarily, getting lost in the feeling of your kiss.
Eventually though, Austin pulled away again and looked over your shoulder, taking a look at the clock placed on your bedside table.
"It's 8 already," he mumbled over your lips, pressing quick kisses in between words. "I gotta get ready for work, baby."
"No, you don't." you assured, as confident as you could, once kissing him deeply, trying to keep him focused on you.
"Yes, I do." he said over your lips, it was a miracle you'd understood his words.
"No, you don't," you said, pulling back far enough for you to be able to stare at his face entirely. "You could stay here, with me."
"Oh, I would love to," Austin assured, his blue eyes moving down to your lips almost instantly, like they were naturally drawn to them. "But I gotta go."
"Mmm... I don't think so." you said confidently, already planning something. The movie director had told you Austin could have some days off, he let you know beforehand so you could ease the idea into Austin, since your boyfriend is always hellbent on working and not wanting to rest until it was done.
"Baby, don't make this hard for me, I don't want to leave, but I have to." Austin almost groaned, he didn't want to leave you, of course not, but he had responsibilities to attend to.
"No, you're not going anywhere, mister," you said with an amused smile, making Austin smile and raise both eyebrows. "I'll hold you here if I have to."
"You'll hold me?" Austin scoffed, not meaning to offend you in any way.  "And how will you do that?"
"I'll–" you had no idea of how to do it. "I'll pin you down."
"Pin me–" Austin chuckled, running a hand through his curls as he looked at you. "You're strong, I'll give you that, but I'm stronger."
He was stronger, and you knew it. Still, you wanted to test this theory, who knows? Maybe you got lucky and found a way to overpower him. Sure, he's 5'11 ft tall with an athletic physique but... you had hopes. They must count for something, right?
"I will still find a way to keep you here." you assured with a knowing smirk, the one he mirrored— it was hard to tell if he'd read your intentions or if he just thought you were cute for believing you had any chance against him.
"Will you now?" he inquired.
Sensing the challenge, you rolled closer to him and pinned both his arms against the bed, holding each with one hand. Austin looked up at you, trying to hold a laugh down. He could feel your efforts on trying to keep him down, but all it took was for him to sit down for you to topple off him.
"Am I supposed to feel trapped, without an escape?" he ironically asked you, his eyes moving down to your lips once, twice, thrice. "You know what? Maybe I'm being too harsh on you. Let's make a deal, alright?"
"I'm listening." you said, not letting go of his wrists.
"If you somehow manage to keep me in this bed for thirty seconds..." he conditioned, biting his lower lip as his eyes found yours again. "I'll stay here."
"Really?" you asked, surprised and enticed by his proposal.
"Yup, so go on baby, try your best."
You let go of his wrists and sat straight, trying to think of something to keep Austin down. It was nearly impossible, to be fair, he was strong enough to push you away whenever he wanted, and tall enough for you to be unable to cover his limbs in entirety.
So, you acted desperate. Because lowkey, you were.
Clearly not thinking about your odds, you leant to the front and wrapped both hands around his left arm, effectively pinning it down to the bed, securing it tightly.
"Nice," Austin admitted, shrugging his free shoulder. "Two hands to pin one of my arms down, great planning."
He was mocking you, damn him. You moved closer to him, sitting on his waist this time, using your body weight to try and keep him down, pressed against the mattress.
"Ooooh," Austin nearly smirked, biting his lip as he nodded his head in agreement, liking your new tactic. "I mean, you could for sure sit there but then..."
With ease, he wrapped his free arm around your body and effectively rolled you both around in bed, so this way he'd be on top of you, his body keeping yours down and his beautiful face inches away from yours. His naked chest was pressed against your breasts, and you could feel him getting hard against your thigh.
Not giving up, you tried to wiggle your way out, tried to sneak away from him, but Austin wasn't having it. He chuckled and reacted quickly, wrapping one big hand around both your wrists and pinning them to the bed.
"One hand to keep both your arms down," Austin mumbled, looking deep into your eyes. "What are you gonna do now?"
Without a word, you tried to push him away with your legs, but it didn't work since Austin placed his legs on top of yours and used his own weight to pin you down, completely immobilized you under him.
"You're trapped," he said with a shiteating grin. "So I win, I'm stronger."
"No, actually, I win," you pointed out, smirking at him and turning your head to the clock to take a look at the time. "You've been here for two minutes."
Austin looked at the clock and realized you were right, you'd won and managed to keep him in bed for over thirty seconds, sure, he'd won and overpowered you quickly, but you'd kept him with you either way.
You could see the gears turning behind Austin's eyes, the hue of blue getting darker as an idea came to mind, you knew him well enough to tell he was planning something, and if the position you're in is anything to go by, you're going to like his plan.
"Oh, would you look at this?" he mocked surprise, blue eyes wide and jaw dropped. "Look who's pinned to the bed now? I have my hand wrapping yours, my legs are pinning yours down and... guess what? I still have a free hand, to do with it as I please."
Now that you knew you'd have him with you all morning, you allowed yourself to smile victoriously, feeling proud of your accomplishments and of course, your flawless plotting.
"This is what you wanted all along, wasn't it?" Austin questioned, understanding everything. You knew he'd overpower you, even before trying.
"Of course not." you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes in a mocking manner.
"No?" he asked and you shook your head, trying to keep the game up for as long as you could. "So it wouldn't have any effect on you, like at all, if I do this?"
Before you got the chance to ask what he was talking about, Austin moved his face away from yours and down to your chest, he hovered over your left breast before pressing a kiss against it, to then wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking slightly before pulling away and giving the other nipple the same attention.
His tongue swirled around your nipple and you swallowed heavily, trying to keep your act together, a whimper threatening to spill from your lips. "O-of course not."
"Right..." Austin mumbled, knowing fully well that you were probably dripping wet already. "Then I guess I'm free to do this, too."
He moved his face down again, only this time it was his teeth, the ones that scraped against your nipple as he bit gently, pulling with his lips, making your back arch and a whimper escape your lips instantly, the stimulation feeling great. Austin knew just how sensitive your tits were, which explains why he immediately moved his lips to the other and repeated the manner, biting softly.
"Please..." you said, wanting to feel more of his touch.
"Oh no, you wanted me here in bed with you," he rasped out, his breath over your nipple sent shivers down your spine. "So you'll take what I'll give you, like a good girl."
Your hips involuntarily moved upwards, but Austin made sure to pin them down when he moved his body up again, so his face would be at your neck level— where he began to kiss. At first it was soft, barely a caress, but then his lips pressed harder against your skin until his teeth dragged against it, threatening to bite, only to suck after.
The feeling of his lips against your neck was maddening. It made you want nothing more than to turn your bodies around and ride the life out of him— so foolishly, you attempted to do so, starting your plan by trying to squirm away, but of course, he didn't let you.
To keep you under his control, Austin took a hold of your head and pulled it back, exposing your neck to his lips, your skin as his mercy for him to lick, bite, kiss and suck as much as he pleased. He could feel you getting restless under him, and Austin enjoyed it thoroughly, he LIVED to tease you.
"Please Austin..." you begged, needing to feel more.
"Please what?" he pulled back, wanting to know what you wanted, whether it was for him to stop teasing, to focus somewhere else, or if you wanted to stop— he would if you asked him to.
"I need more," you expressed, trying to find his eyes with your own.
"Hm, I guess I could send this hand..." he said, showing you the hand that was holding your head down. "Lower."
"Yes–" it was almost ridiculous how relieved you sounded.
"Here?" Austin asked, placing his hand at your clavicle, the tips of his fingers trailing over your skin teasingly.
"No, lower."
"Here?" he repeated the question, pressing his hand on your belly, pinning your lower half down.
"Aus, please–" his teasing was beginning to get you restless, not that you didn't enjoy feeling like that but, for god sake, he was driving you insane. "Lower."
"Here, then?" he asked, tantalizingly slow, his hand slowly moving lower and lower until it disappeared between your legs. "Fuck, you're dripping wet, baby, all that just for teasing you? God, I can't imagine how wet you'll be when I fuck you."
His words sounded twice as dirty when he uttered them with that raspy voice of his, traces of southern accent still adorning his words as he spoke them with such certainty, it almost made you let out a whiny whimper.
His long, slender fingers began to tease you, spreading your wetness across your lips. Then, he drove his fingers up to your clit, slowly starting to rub in circular motions, pressing down slightly. His motions were slow, meticulous, giving you the right amount of pleasure so you'd beg for more.
You tried to press your legs together to get more friction, Austin noticed, of course, and he showed it by pulling his hand away and spreading your legs wider, opening you up for him.
"Fuck..." you let out a half moan half groan, throwing your head back against the pillow as two of his fingers burried inside you, expertly pulling in and out of you– he curled them in a come hither motion at the right moment, hitting your spot with efortlessness. "Oh my– Austin—"
"That's it," he said, eyes dark with lust as he observed you squirming under him, his eyes moving down to see his fingers disappearing inside your pussy, to come out glistening with your juices, the ones that had begun to drip down to the bedsheets. "Goddamn it, I love how you moan my name."
As he fingered you, he drove his thumb up to your clit, starting to rub at a certain rhythm that he knew drove you wild— he was using every single trick he knew to please you, using every single one of your weak spots to make you crumble.
He felt you starting to clench around his fingers, making it almost impossible for him to move them– you were close and he could tell. Austin felt generous, wanting you to reach your climax sooner. Without a word, he drove his lips to your chest again, twirling his tongue about one nipple and then biting the other, and vice versa. All while he kept his amazing pace with his fingers.
Your moans were getting louder now, you were unable to remain quiet as his fingers curled against your spot and his lips sucked your nipples till they almost hurt, you couldn't cover your mouth since he kept his hold on your wrists– so all you could do was try to bite your lip, only to let it go seconds after in a failed attempt to keep quiet.
Austin was enjoying this, feeling you squirming under him, hearing your desperate moans and the sound of his name leaving your lips like a fucking prayer, not to mention your pussy wrapping his fingers greedily, not wanting to let them go.
He could probably spend the rest of his life like this. But... his dick was killing him. It was painfully hard now, he'd started to leak and he feared his dick would explode if he didn't use it to fuck you soon.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." you began to mumble quickly, feeling your orgasm arriving, a wave of pleasure running close to shore, about to invade your body but— he pulled his fingers out of you at once. "Austin!"
"Tch, tch..." he tutted you, his eyes focused on yours. "Don't get greedy with me."
"But— But-I was about to–"
"Oh I know," he assured you with a cocky smile, making you let out a frustrated groan. "Is it really a crime that I want to make you cum with my cock instead?"
That was effective in shutting you up, your legs spread wider as you maintained eye contact, wetting your lips slightly as you nervously awaited for his next move, or his next word.
"That's what I thought." Austin said, voice incredibly deep now as he now wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping it a few times as he slowly began to line himself up with you.
He slowly pushed himself into you, letting you feel absolutely EVERYTHING. Every curve, every vein. Everything.
The deep groan he let out right next to your ear as he pushed inside you made you instantly clench your walls around him, making it hard for him to move.
"Goddamn, fuck..." he groaned, pressing a borderline agressive kiss against your neck. "Holy shit, you feel so good wrapped around me."
"Plea–" a moan interrupted your pleading. Austin started to thrust, building up a pace as his cock slid and out of you, stretching you with every pump, the feeling was bittersweet, the stretch burned, but the pleasure made up for it. "Aus– oh my– fuck, right there."
"Right here?" he asked, thrusting harder and pressing the tip against a certain point inside you. "I can feel you clenching 'round me, darlin'. So fucking good."
You were getting desperate to touch him, his hold on your wrists hadn't relented and the lack of touch was driving you crazy. Austin's mind wasn't far from sharing the same thoughts, since he looked at your eyes before speaking again.
"I'm gonna let your hands go," he said and started thrusting slower, it was hard to know if he wanted you to focus on his words or not. "So I can take a hold of your hips and fuck you right."
You nodded, but still had the intention to roll you both around and start riding him, wanting to chase your own orgasm and tease him for a while. As soon as Austin let go of your hands, you tried to turn the situation around, to no avail though, for he chuckled and took a tight grip on your hips, the one would surely leave finger shaped bruises in your skin.
"Oh, havin' an attitude?" he quirked, smirking as his lips teased yours, barely pressing a kiss. "Guess I'll have to fuck it out of you."
The last word left his lips and a deep, sharp, hard thrust followed, and then another, marking the beginning of a ravaging pace that would for sure lead you right to your orgasm. His cock dove into you hard, fast and deep, touching parts of you that only he could— he had you at his mercy, doing whatever he wanted with you, and you loved that.
"So good, fuck–" you moaned, eyes rolling at the back of your head as his dick pressed against your g-spot repeatedly. "Austin– ah f-f..– baby please..."
You were just rambling at that point, begging, pleading, praising, asking, not one coherent sentence left your lips, just words and moans and his name— Austin felt proud of what he was doing to you, he was fucking you dumb, leaving you barely able to speak.
He moved his body closer to you, entrapping you under him as he placed an arm next to your head and dove his face back to your neck, kissing messily around it, wet kisses being placed all over your neck as his dick kept fucking you closer and closer to your orgasm.
The first clench came, and then the second, your moans began to get high-pitched and your hips attempted to chase his— all of those were clear signs that you were about to cum.
"I can recognize those pretty moans everywhere," Austin rasped in your ear, his hips snapping against yours. "You wanna cum, don't you?"
"Fuck, yes, yes, please."
"Do it," he allowed you, his pace getting impossibly better, going deeper, faster, harsher. "Cum around my cock baby, c'mon, cum for me."
His words basically eased you into it, his dick hit all the right spots, and with a loud whail of his name, you came around him, clenching your walls so tight Austin thought he was about to come as well. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, chasing his own in the process.
The overstimulation felt oddly delicious as he kept moving in and out of you, his thrusts getting sloppier and his hips stuttering until eventually, Austin let out a groan from the depths of his chest and came, filling you up until the last drop.
Both of you were panting heavily by then, but Austin didn't care, he still pressed his lips against yours and kissed you passionately, his tongue going inside your mouth, lips capturing yours– he was still inside you, so he definitely felt you clench around him when he bit your lower lip.
It was only when he felt entirely out of breath that he pulled away, allowing you to breathe properly now. Your eyes instantly connected with his, a smile teasing the edge of your lips.
"That was..."
"I don't know what took over me–" Austin was about to apologize for his behaviour, but you interrupted him with a kiss.
"It was fucking amazing." you assured with a huge smile.
"It was," he admitted, his sweet smile turning into a smirk.
"What?" you asked, knowing he was up to something, AGAIN.
"I'm still inside you," he pointed out, pressing a kiss against your jaw. "We don't have plans today so..."
"Is this you, asking for round two?" you asked teasingly, finding it hard to believe that he was being shy all of a sudden, especially after he fucked you like that.
"Absolutely." he admitted without hesitation. "You feel so perfect wrapped around me like this, with my cum dripping out... it would be a shame to pull out."
And just like that, you placed your hand on the back of his head, tangled your fingers in his hair, and pulled his face down to yours, your lips crashing in a hungry kiss that did nothing but escalate from there.
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Hall of Mirrors
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I had this idea for a while.. Ever since I saw the mirror scene in Elvis… Enjoy 
Summary: Having fun in The hall of mirrors with Elvis.
Warnings: Oral (female receiving), Pentrative sex (without a condom), Mirrior sex, Voyeursim, Face Slapping, Pussing Slapping, Cum tasting, Tear licking (just overall filthy) Lmk if I know if I miss any. Enjoy! 
You laugh in surprise as when Elivs picks you up and spins you around with his arms wrapped around your legs. “Ah Elvis, get me down now!” he and the group of friends he’s with let out a round of loud laughs. “This is not funny i’m being serious” you reasoned with him as you felt all the blood rush to your head and were starting to get dizzy. 
He panicked slightly and bent his knees a little to put you down on the ground safely. Holding you still he looks for another ride or attraction you guys can do until Jerry yells out “Let's go into the house of mirrors!” Which was followed with a bunch of agreements with Elvis pulling you in the line to wait. 
The wait was not long given that your group was the only one that was waiting. Walking in you were kind of nervous. You saw these things in movies and it made it look like there was no way out. Elvis stayed behind you with one hand holding your waist to keep you in front of him. 
Finally going in you intertwine your hand with the one he’s holding to your stomach you feel his breath on your neck the mirrors around you guys closeing in on you two. Your breathing gets heavier as all you see around you is a reflection of ourselves.
“Mama, don't be scared, I'm right here behind you” Elvis said, looking at the two of you in the mirror. He moves his hands to your thighs and starts trailing his fingers on your skin slowly. “You hear me? No one and nothings going to hurt you baby” you nod your head not really trusting your voice right now. 
A slap quickly to your ass. “Ow Elvis, why did you do that?” He let out a dark chuckle “I asked you a question, and i’m expecting an answer” wanting to roll your eyes you answer “Yes I heard you.” 
“Good” he says with his fingers trailing your inner thigh tracing the outline of your lips over your panties. “We got to make this quick mama” he said pulling your damp panties off of you “And quiet '' he rolled up your panties and shoved them deep into your mouth. He backed you up into a mirror and went to bend down and pulled one of your legs on his shoulder then pulled the other one over and stood all the way up with you against the mirror. 
Your hand went to hold on to his hair as he slipped his tongue between your pussy lips and started lapping at your clit. Your moans were muffed due to the panties in your mouth and you were tearing up when Elvis groaned into your heat causing more stimulation to your clit.
“Fuck you taste divine mama, am I making you feel good?” with your mind being as hasey as it was, you didn’t get to answer as quickly as he would have liked. Feeling two slaps on your pussy you cry out. “I know your mouth is full  but at least give me a nod” you shook your head yes and he got right back to work.
 The pleasure was too much to handle. He was nibbling and sucking in all the right places and the harder you pulled on his hair the faster he would go with his tongue moving in circles. Tears were now streaming down your face definity messing up your mascara but you didn’t care, not when you feel the pressure at the pit of your stomach you buck your hips into his face he moans into you once more before you let out a wail releasing on his face. 
He's still sucking at your clit riding your orgasm before he slurps up your juices. You're still against the mirror and you can see the sinful sight of him between your legs, your lace underwear scented with your arousal that you can taste on your tongue.
 Elvis pulls away and lets you down carefully when your feet hit the ground you go to take your panties out of your mouth until Elvis see’s you and takes your hand and shoves them deeper into your mouth with your garments hitting the back of your throat. 
“Were not done mama and with loud you were being with these in your mouth we ought to keep them there” hes unbuckling his pants and he pulls down both his pants and his boxers down when he shoves his middle and pointer finger in your entrance collecting your arousal to spread around your pearl (purrr). 
You didn't even have time to adjust to his fingers before he pulled them out and put his cock at your entrance, circling his cockhead around your hole before pushing it all the way to the hilt. Picking you up you wrap your legs around him and he starts moving his hips inside you. Whimpering you feel his stare on your face and you meet your eyes with his. “Does that feel good baby hmmm, I can hear you through the fabric, your such a good girl for letting me fuck you in this hall, you know that mama?” He asked with a smile on his face.  
You nod your head, eyes still staring at him. “Your so fucking sexy like this, mascara all messy and face all hot with your pussy so. fucking. warm and tight.” He preached  matching his thrusts with the last words of his sentence. “How about I make you hotter hmm? Would you like that mama?” you choked out a yes happy when was able to understand you. 
The first slap to your face made you cry out and Elivs let his warm tongue out of his mouth and licked up the tears falling down your face. Then he delivered another one to your other cheek and let his tongue collect your tears on his lips. You were beginning to feel dizzy between him slapping you, and driving his hips into your cervic you don’t how much more you can take. 
Looking to the side of you, you can see the two of you and  hundreds of duplicates of yourselfs making love and if you looked close enough you could see the outline of Elvis's cock in your stomach. It seems he notices it too because he looks down and he moves one of his hands to push on your lower tummy. 
“You see that mama i’m all up in your stomach? Can you feel it?” You wail his name when he moves his hips at an animalistic speed now with both of his hands cupping your ass moving it down meeting his trusts. He let 3 hard smacks to the flesh and then went back to working you on his cock. That familiar pressure comes back stronger this time as you feel the tension about to snap. 
“Fuck your about to make me cum mama” you let out a muffle sound trying to let him know your about to cum to and with two more thrust and you fall apart shaking in Elvis arms and he paints the inside of your womb with his release. 
“Ah you feel so good sweetheart” He pulled out of you pulling your panties out of your mouth wrapping them around his cock and letting the rest of his cum coat the inside of your panties pulling his pants up after. Bending down he helps you put your shaking legs into the holes of your undergarments pulling them all the way up. After he grabs your face and tries his best to get the runny mascara off your face. 
“You okay baby?” he asked, looking over you, noticing  that your cheeks were starting to bruise. “Yes I’m okay, don’t worry about it, I feel really good right now” he smiled and reached down to put a kiss on your lips. Soon after he pulls away and wraps his hand around your waist guiding you two out of the hall. 
When you guys make it out all of his friends are there laughing as they see the looks on your faces. Feeling your face get hot in embarrassment you let Elvis guide you through the park with him threatening his friends to shut up with your pussy feeling sticky thanks to your panties being soaked with both of your cum <3. 
Omg this lowkey might be the most smutist thing I have ever written (and most horrible) please let me know if you like it or if you have any concerns thanks.
Request if you want :)   
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pastorpresent · 2 years
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Just Let Me Adore You.
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[ you can't watch what their doing to him any more. He's overworked. Exhausted, and pumped full of pills to keep awake. ]
TW: mention of drug use, vomiting, blood, mild sexual content.
Elvis/YN, or Austin!Elvis/YN if preferred
"Where is he?"
Your voice is sharp, demanding, and Vernon looks fearful almost as he takes a small step behind the colonel.
"Don't get all twisted up, sweetness. He's resting, was a big show tonight."
You didn't think you could hate anyone quite as much as you hated the man in front of you. From the minute he stepped into the picture, he only had one intention: bleed Elvis dry for everything he had.
It didn't matter how much you tried to warn him. Elvis saw him as a second father figure of sorts, and refused to say a bad word about the old bastard.
You had no such qualms.
"I want to see him, you twisted monster," you spat, glare hardening.
The ridiculous show schedule they had him on was taking its toll. Tonight more than ever. He looked awful up there, even if he did sing and perform just as perfect as ever, but even that made your chest ache. He would kill himself before he would let down his fans. You could see it backstage, between songs, where he would all but stumble to the waiting chair, letting them slip him pills and needles and shoving his face in ice water until he was gasping for breath, hurriedly reapplying his eyeliner before the next song.
He was dead on his feet. A puppet on strings doing everything he was told, consequences be damned.
"Now listen to me-"
"Let her in," that was Vernon's tired voice cutting in, avoiding your face, but you could see the guilt there anyway. "She might be able to settle him down," he continued, even softer, and you felt your concern grow worse.
Parker huffed, muttering something incoherent but stepping aside away from the door to the penthouse. You kept your posture tall, giving him a brief nod before pushing past and locking the door behind you.
There was silence for a few moments, and then a half moan, half sob. It was unmistakably him.
You followed the noise to the bathroom, and found your lover on the floor covered in vomit, sobbing dejectedly over the bathtub.
"Elvis, sweetheart," you gasp, dropping to your knees. He recoils almost, curling in on himself miserably.
"You need to go, mama. Can't- Can't be having you 'round when I'm like this," he moaned, burying his face away in his legs.
"No, baby. This is exactly the times I should be around," you say, moving close enough to wrap your arms around him. His reaction is almost automatic, even if he does try to fight it. His arms curl desperately around your waist, face buried in your chest as he cries, begs for unnecessary forgiveness.
"Hate myself, baby. I'm- I can't- I need to let you go, mama. You need'a run. Run far a'ay, you hear me?"
You shook your head, rocking him and pressing kisses to his damp hair, running your fingers over his back.
"Don't say those things. Please, Elvis. Don't say those things. You're amazing, baby. You did so well up there tonight," you knew it was what he needed, ultimately. He was so terrified of failing, of disappointing those flocks of people who scream and cry for him, as if he ever even could. You were convinced he could sit and talk for a few minutes about the blandest topic in the world and they would still go wild.
It was his greatest fear. That's why he let them fill him with drugs and take half his money. Consequences be damned, as long as he was making the people happy.
He all but mewled against you at the praise, slumping further into your warmth, mumbling a broken "you rea'ly think so?"
It shattered your heart, and you nodded, kissing his forehead.
"So good baby, but you need to rest now, for a little while. Till you're all nice and better, sweetheart."
Predictably, he shook his head, although anything he planned on saying was cut off with a harsh gag, and he was pulling away from you quickly to cough up a sickly mix of bile and blood over the tile floor.
He was pale, skin clammy, and while you winced in sympathy you couldn't help but be slightly relieved at the ejection of those horrible pills from his body.
He was apologising again, words slurred and body wracked by violent shakes.
"'Nother show, a-at t-ten. Colonel said demand was enough for it, I'm gettin' two shows a night," he sounded proud, despite being half dead on the floor like a weakened animal, eyes half shut and muscles tense, twitching incessantly.
"No," you spoke firm, leaving absolutely zero wiggle room for compromise, "you can't go back out there tonight. A few nights, maybe even a few weeks. You're going to kill yourself," it was brutal, perhaps a little harsh, but what else could you do? How else would he ever come to accept how bad the situation was, if not even one person in his life could be honest?
"If it's how I go, it's how I go."
Anger fluttered in your stomach, and you pulled him up to sit against the wall, sitting directly in front of him, hands clamped on his shoulders. You watched his eyes drift and struggle to focus on your face despite the close proximity.
"Don't you dare! What about Lisa, huh? You gonna have me explain to her where her daddy's gone? Want me to tell her how he loved them more than her? The Colonel, the fans, whoever the hell else! And- and what about me?! You just- you just gonna leave me, like that? After everything?!"
You didn't realise quite how worked up you had gotten, nor the tears streaming over your face, until he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, trying to thumb the wetness away as if he could make it all better just by cleaning up your hysterics.
It was him pulling you in this time. You wanted to fight. You were so damn furious, still - but his hands left you powerless, reducing you to a palatable mess who sunk against him in a bone heavy heap, hiding your face in his neck.
"Sorry, mama. Sorry. Not leaving either of yas, what kinda man would that make me, huh? What kinda daddy, or husband? Needa look after ya better, don't I? Look after my best girls."
You nod against his damp skin, a mix of tears and sweat as his body struggles. Your breath hitches when you feel how shaky his hands are running through your hair, and you pull back enough to wipe at your eyes.
"Let's get you to bed, baby. Let me look after you this time," you say quietly, running your thumb over his jaw. He blinks at you, a small smile tugging his lips, even if it is a little forced.
He looks pained and so, so exhausted. You never thought yourself capable of violence, but you wouldn't hesitate to kill Tom Parker for what he's done to your man. You remember those early days, back in memphis, back when his momma was alive. He was so bright then - so happy and carefree.
The years since had only served to beat him down. The shows and the fame and the fucking colonel- they only ever served to break him, and here he was now. Broken. He would never again be that nineteen year old starry eyed boy you first met, but that was ok. You loved him no matter what, just like you always swore.
You help him to his feet, and between yourself and the bathtub he makes it up on trembling legs. You wrap your arm secure around his waist, and you notice his slight wince, an insecurity spurred on by those awful pills. You tighten your grip, kiss his cheek to reassure him you don't care in the slightest.
It's slow, but you get him to the bed. He all but collapses into it with a groan, eyes already fluttering shut.
"Let's get you some clean clothes, baby," you encourage, and he obeys so easily as you strip him out of the soiled jumpsuit, tugging on some briefs in its place and some softer sleeping pants.
"Shirt, mama?"
It's not cold in the room, and the vulnerability in his eyes makes the shattered pieces of your heart burn.
"Don't need one, baby. I promise. You're gorgeous. All my gorgeous man, daddy," you assure, kissing his collarbone all tender and letting your hands move careful over his sides.
He shivers, squirming a little on the bed under your touch.
"You sure baby? Not quite as pretty as I useta be," he mumbles, and you huff a little, continuing to kiss downwards, on your knees all but worshipping every piece of visible skin.
"So gorgeous, daddy."
"What'd I do to deserve ya, huh?" Elvis whispers, and you chuckle a little against his skin, and his smile this time feels much more real.
"Somethin' diabolical, I'm sure," you tease, pushing him gentle until he lies down.
"Think I must'a been a saint or somethin," he drawled, and you smile.
"Or somethin."
You dip to press a kiss to his forehead, which still feels awfully hot. You decide a cold towel might help, but as you go to grab it he grips your hand.
"Where ya goin?"
He's giving you those puppy eyes, fingers linking with yours.
"Gonna get a towel, try to cool you down some. You're burning, baby," he shakes his head, whimpering a little, pressing his lips to your hand.
"Stay, mama. Ya all I need, you'll fix me right up with ya pretty lips. Just wanna hold ya, is all. Ya my medicine," he murmurs, and you sigh softly, perching on the bed and running your fingers through his hair.
"I'll only be downstairs, baby. Just one moment, ok?"
Reluctantly he loosens his grip, pressing a weak kiss to your thigh as an almost wordless agreement.
You rush downstairs and search for a towel, wetting it with cold water. You grab a bowl from the kitchen incase the nausea hits again, and a glass of water. You're just gathering up the things to take upstairs when you hear voices from the bedroom.
You quickly grab the supplies and go up, only to find Elvis now half sitting, struggling to get all the way up, breathing rough like he's panicking and trying not to cry. The colonel stands at the foot of the bed, cigar between his lips puffing clouds of smoke, arms folded over his chest as he watched, almost bemused.
"What the hell are you doing?" You spit, almost dropping the glass in your haste to reach your man. You place the water on the bedside, the bowl on the floor, and ease the towel around his neck, whispering reassurances as you direct him to lie back down. You can see in his eyes that he doesn't necessarily want to, but his body is far too weak to fight your guiding hands, and his head lands back onto the pillow with a soft thump.
"He's got a performance in a half hour. We need him downstairs for sound check and wardrobe," Parker states, voice void of any sympathy. He's looking at the sick man with something akin to frustration and anger, and you can see how it hurts him, can feel him try to sit again under your hands only to be physically incapable.
"He's not going on that damn stage," you growl right back.
"It's none negotiable, little girl. He signed a damn contract, he honours it!" Tom hissed, getting into your space.
You didn't back down, grabbing your lovers hand to assure him you were ok when you felt him try to struggle to his feet again.
"He's half fucking dead, you dimwit! You're working him to death, can't you see that? He's a human being! You can't just stuff him with drugs and push him onto a damn stage night in night out! He needs rest!"
The Colonel shook his head, chuckling. He looked at Elvis, who was glaring up at him now.
"You letting your girl fight your battles now? Letting her make the rules?"
He glances your way, tightening the grip on your hand.
"She's right. It's too much," it felt almost relieving to hear him finally say it. "Tell them I'll resume I'm a few days but not tonight."
You hoped you could convince him for a little more than that, but it would do for now.
The colonel seemed to of realised he lost, storming out with a promise to make us both pay.
The door slammed, and you climbed onto the bed immediately, wrapping yourself around him and kissing his lips sweetly, letting your hands draw patterns over his bare arms.
"I do good, baby?" He hummed quietly, and you nod, the tension melting from your body as he nuzzles into you, linking your legs and bringing his arms around your waist to tug you closer.
"The best. I'm proud of you," you murmur into his hair, peppering his face with gentle kisses.
You both lie like that for a little while, and eventually you can feel him snoring softly against you. You let yourself drift off too, feeling impossibly safe in his arms.
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sissylittlefeather · 8 months
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I finished it! This is part of my main Elvis x fem!reader series. It goes between Baby, What's Your Name and Always, Honey. I'm sorry I'm writing these all out of order, but this is just the way they've come out of me. As always, feel free to imagine Elvis or Austin!Elvis. Let me know if you like it!
I really look forward to interacting with people who read my stuff, so feel free to drop me a note 😁
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, etc etc etc
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Goodnight, Sweetheart
There's a quiet but urgent knock on your dorm room door. You turn and look at Margie.
"Were you expecting someone?" She shakes her head.
"Nope." You shrug. Oh well, maybe it's someone with the wrong room number. As you walk to the door, the knocking gets more urgent and you start to get a little nervous.
You pull open the door and Elvis steps into the room, closing the door quickly behind him.
"Elvis, what are you doing here?! How did you get in here?!" This is a girls' dorm on campus at an all-girls college.
"Hey, I'm Elvis Presley. I make magic happen, baby." He holds your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. Margie clears her throat, slides her shoes on, and collects her purse.
"I suddenly remembered that I need to be somewhere." She slips out of the room, shooting you a wink on her way out. Since you hooked up with Elvis after his show two weeks ago, she hasn't let you talk about anything else.
"She seems like a good roommate." Elvis laughs in a way that seems to fill the room up with joy. He walks over to your bed and flops himself down in a half sitting, half laying position.
"So, darlin', what have you been up to since I saw ya last?" Your heart flutters at the sight of him on your bedspread. He seems to have grown into his manhood in the time since you were together. Or maybe you're just acutely aware of it because you're the one who made him a man. Either way, the real answer to his question is that you've been missing him desperately. Even though you only had the one night together, it was quite a night, and you've thought about it every day since. Still, you never expected to see him again.
"Oh, just this and that. Going to class and such." You walk over and sit down on the other side of your bed. He reaches out and moves your hair behind your ear.
"My little studious sweetheart."
Your heart skips several beats. Did he just call you his sweetheart? But he probably calls everyone his sweetheart. You start to wonder how many girls he's been with since his first time with you. Two weeks likely feels like a lifetime in his fast-paced world.
"What about you? Played a lot of shows?"
"That's an understatement. Sometimes we do 3 or 4 a day."
"Oh wow. You must be exhausted." He smiles and picks up your hand, kissing the back of it gently. Your stomach flip-flops with the feeling of his lips on you. Still, you pull your eyebrows together in a frown.
"Elvis, why are you here?"
"Can't a guy come see a pretty girl when he has a moment of free time?" He puts on his stage smile and winks at you.
"Elvis. Really. I never expected to see you again."
His face falls and he looks down at your hand in his. He seems to be contemplating whether he should give you a real answer. He turns your hand over and presses his lips to the center of your palm.
"I missed you." He mumbles into your hand. A warm smile spreads across your face.
"You did?"
"I really did. I've thought about you every day for the past two weeks. All those nights in hotel rooms alone after shows... I just wished I knew how to get a hold of you." So he wasn't with a bunch of girls. Another thought pops into your head.
"How did you find me?" He does a sheepish grin.
"I-I I called the school and told them I wanted to send you flowers. And I really did want to! But then I decided to just come over here instead." You laugh and lean against him on the bed.
"Flowers are nice, but this is better."
His eyes darken and he puts his hand in your hair, holding the back of your head.
"I agree." He leans in and kisses you passionately, parting your lips just enough to slide his tongue into your mouth. You grab the front of his jacket and pull him toward you, leaning fully into his kiss. He lays you down on the bed next to him, leaning over you to keep kissing you, his hand moving up and down your hip and stomach. He pulls back from the kiss and looks you in the eyes, seemingly asking for permission to touch you more. You put your hand on his and slide it up to your chest. That's all the permission he needs. Now his hand is under your sweater and bra, his thumb grazing your nipple. You sit up and pull the sweater over your head and off. He removes your bra a lot easier this time. You push his jacket off of his shoulders and go to work unbuttoning his black lace shirt. This whole time, you're kissing anytime you can, your lips meeting in a blend of tenderness and passion. He starts kissing down your face, then your neck, then your body until he gets to your breasts. He playfully teases your nipples with his tongue. He's a lot bolder in his exploration of your body this time around and you revel in the pleasure of his mouth and hands on you. Eventually, he unzips your skirt and slides it down your thighs, going immediately back up to do the same with your panties. He stops and laughs a little when he gets to them, though.
"What?"
"I'm just thinking about you throwing these on the stage. You know you started something. It happens all the time now."
"Oh, it does?" Your voice catches a little and he notices. He looks at you thoughtfully.
"Yours are the only ones I've ever kept, though." Warmth spreads through you at the thought of him only wanting to hold onto yours. He goes back to pulling your panties down, slowly sliding them down your legs and over your feet. He holds your foot in his hand and softly kisses your ankle. Then, he makes his way up your leg, dropping his lips periodically to plant soft kisses on your calf and thigh. He kisses the inside of your other thigh and then looks up at you smiling, like he's had an idea. You're not sure where he's going with all this kissing, but you love the feeling of his lips on your skin, so you don't argue. Finally, he lowers his head and kisses you right on your center.
"Oh!" You let out a small gasp. No one has ever put their mouth there before and the sensation was delicious. When he hears the sound you make, he smiles and does it again, this time lingering a little longer on you. You arch your back and a small moan escapes your lips. He's thoroughly enjoying the effect this is having, so when he does it a third time he adds his tongue to the mix, moving it like you instructed him to move his thumb last time.
"Elvis, fuck!" You cry out, overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth on you. You've never experienced pleasure like this before and you know you won't last long if he keeps this up. He pulls back from you for a second and you try to catch your breath. He tilts his head to the side, watching your chest heaving as you gasp for air. Then, he takes two fingers and slides them into you as he dips his head down and licks you hard again. He continues pushing his fingers into you as he makes circles with his tongue.
"OH GOD!" You grab the top of his hair and grind into him uncontrollably as your climax slams into you, pushing electric bolts of ecstasy out to your fingertips and back again to the place where his tongue is still moving. His fingers become inexplicably wetter and your legs shake.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" You continue to cry out. Finally he pulls back, laughing.
"Nah, it's still just Elvis." You explode into a cascade of giggles both at what he just said and the way he just made you feel.
"Where did you learn that?" You ask, still breathing heavily.
"Well, I'd heard of it before, but I just really wanted to kiss you there and you liked it so much I didn't stop."
"Never stop." You laugh and he laughs with you again.
"Was it too much? Did I knock you out?"
"Oh no." You look at him playfully, "Get up here and finish what you started."
You move to take his pants off, but your hands are trembling. He stands up and lets them fall to the floor, climbing back on top of you excitedly. He puts one hand on either side of your head and leans in to kiss you deeply, rolling his hips forward and pushing his erection against your leg. You whimper a little at the feeling of him being so close to where you want him. Finally, he reaches down and lines himself up with you. You're about to go crazy with need while he takes his time. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he's having fun driving you wild.
"What do you want, baby?"
You moan into his mouth and manage to whisper, "you... I want you..."
He kisses you one last time before he pushes into you as deep as he can. This time you moan together, your foreheads pressed against each other, and he picks up a steady rhythm. Your sweat mixes with his as your bodies move in tandem. He slides in and out of you, pushing deeper and deeper, his hips slamming against yours. His length is exactly right to hit the most sensitive places inside of you. After a few minutes in this position, he rolls over onto his back and smiles at you, ready for you to get on top, since it's what you did last time.
"Uh-uh. Sit up." You gesture for him to scoot back. He moves to sit with his back against the wall at the head of your bed, excitement in his eyes. You put your hands on his shoulders and a knee on either side of his hips, lowering yourself onto him. He moans as he slides into you slowly and deeply. The difference in position is subtle, but it's enough for him to notice.
"Mmmm" he closes his eyes, leans his head back, and bites his lower lip. You lean in and kiss him on the cheek while you move up and down on him. He smiles, but keeps his eyes closed. You stop bouncing and start grinding your hips into him, rolling back and forth, pushing him deeper and deeper.
"Oh fuck, baby." His eyes pop open and he watches you move, bringing his hands up to cup your breasts and then run down your rib cage to your hips.
"Honey, I'm close," he whispers into your hair. Without further warning, he flips you over again and pounds into you, kissing your neck and shoulders as he does. You wrap your legs around him, feeling the heat of his skin on yours. Finally, he cries out, cussing loudly and shuddering into you.
He kisses you on the lips and jaw and neck and then lays his head on your chest. You lay there together, breathing heavily, you running your fingers through his hair. After a while, you realize his breathing is measured and steady. He's fallen asleep on your chest. You smile to yourself. He really must've been tired. Hopefully, Margie found somewhere else to stay tonight because it doesn't look like he's going anywhere any time soon. You gently roll him off of you onto his back and sneak away to the bathroom. When you come back, you slide your panties back on and slip into bed with him, snuggling into his shoulder. Just as you're about to drift off to sleep, you feel his lips on your forehead.
"Goodnight, sweetheart..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Taglist: @itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101
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mamaspresley · 2 years
Text
trouble 2 | austin!elvis au
wc 4,783 tw smut, oral f receiving, elvis being a cheeky mf
part one here!
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Your hand trembled over the page as you held the pencil firmly between your pointer finger and your thumb. You just couldn’t find the courage to sign the end of the letter, your lower lip between your teeth and your leg bouncing up and down below you as you sat at your desk, staring at the page filled top to bottom with your neat handwriting. 
That was one of the first things Elvis had brought up when the two of you managed to speak over the phone instead of writing to each other. “Your hand-writing is so neat, doll, mine’s gotta look like chicken scratch to ya. Can you even read it half the time?” he’d said, and you laughed before reassuring the boy that you could read his writing, even if it did take you a few minutes to decipher a couple of the words. The call lasted about five minutes before it got clicked off and you realized you had no money left to call him back. You cried that night, having used all your savings from working at the diner just down the street, a job you picked up for that specific reason — Elvis mentioned in one of his letters that the base he was on had a telephone, one that made transatlantic calls, and you worked day and night for three months straight to be able to afford just a few minutes of hearing his voice. And boy, was it worth it. You never got too sad when Elvis was away, never shed any tears over it up until that point. But hearing his voice, the familiar Southern drawl that you’d only been hearing over his records you played a million times a day — it was all real to you again, and it was like you’d been living in a fantasy the whole time. There he was, talking into your ear like he had been that night you sat on your porch. The way your heart raced when you heard the way his lips mumbled the word darling, as opposed to reading it on a piece of paper. You wished you got more than five minutes with him but unfortunately that wasn’t the case, and you just clutched onto the fact that these last two years would be over in just a few more months, and then he would be back home, and you would be in his arms. 
It was no question that Elvis was in love with you. You didn’t know it, but he talked about you nonstop to the boys in his division. When he’d first met you that night that he showed up to your house, it was all so surreal and you had brushed off the fact that he confessed his love for you. It didn’t seem serious, he had just met you for Christ’s sake and knew nothing about you besides your name — which, mind you, he had to dig up from someone else. You’d never even spoken to each other before that night, so the idea that he was in love with you was absurd. Of course, you wanted nothing more than to believe it, but the more you did, the less everyone had faith around you. You recounted the events of that night to Lucy and she was over the moon, but everyone else you told seemed to think you were exaggerating the details. Girls at school, your coworkers, even a few of your family members insisted that you were lying. The only people that truly, wholeheartedly believed that Elvis Presley was in love with you was Lucy and your mother, who’d read every letter he sent you as you showed her every other week with ecstasy written across your face. But the thing was that the longer time passed with him gone, the more you believed it yourself. Because the more you believed he was in love with you, the more you believed you were in love with him. 
You’d always loved Elvis Presley, ever since you heard his first song on the radio. But you loved him as the singer, not him as the person. Up until spending years writing to the boy, dreaming of him when you slept and fantasizing about him coming home. You thought of him when cleaning tables at your work, and sometimes you even found yourself planning out your next letter to him, excited to race home so you could get out your pen and paper. Elvis had signed every letter he wrote you with Love, your Elvis since the very first one. Yours were usually finished off with a talk to you soon or a miss you entirely. This one, the one you wrote as the last one he would be receiving before coming home, felt different. Nothing had changed, it was still the same old summary of your week, telling him how excited you were for March 2nd, the day he would be coming back. But this time, you couldn’t write the words see you soon. Your first thought was love.
Your pencil stood still in your hand as your eyes raked across the page. You read the hundred word letter over and over again, stalling as you tried to work up the courage to write the simple closing line before folding the note up for the envelope. It took you what felt like hours before you gave in and signed it, I can’t wait to see you… your Y/N and then setting the pencil down. You would send it in the morning on your way to work, completely unhappy with the closing statement but ultimately, you knew you weren’t gonna do anything about it. You wanted your first ‘I love you’ to be in person, to his face, where you could see his raw, honest reaction. Not over a letter, when he would read it two weeks from now and then you wouldn’t be able to read his for two weeks after that. 
So you would wait, until you could see him in person, and then you would tell him you loved him. You planned on doing it immediately, the moment you saw him, but when the day finally came, that wasn’t the case. 
“Y/N, honey, you have a visitor.” It was deja vu, almost, the way your mother poked her head into your room, much like she had done the night you met the boy. But you weren’t in for a surprise this time — you’d been counting down the hours for this moment. 
“He’s here!” You jumped up from your bed, and the speed at which you ran down the hallway was faster than any track star could have dreamed. You made it down the stairs in record time, and when your eyes landed on the boy standing in your foyer, talking with your father, dressed in his army green military suit, holding his cap to his chest respectfully, you lost your breath. 
“There she is,” your father said, and at his words, Elvis turned around to see you for himself. The smile that exploded onto his face was unlike any other, and the boy reached out as you jumped onto him. He lifted you into his arms, spinning you around as you grasped onto him for dear life. It felt better than you were expecting, hugging him, smelling his scent that hadn’t changed a bit since he was gone. 
What had changed, though, was his hair. It was short now, buzzed at the sides and not what you remembered at all. It made sense though, Elvis had mentioned in one of his letters that they had to shave his head when he joined the military. You hated the idea, one of the main focal points of Elvis Presley was his hair. But seeing him in the uniform, all dressed up, returning home from the war — he looked handsome, more beautiful than you could’ve dreamed of, so you didn’t mind the lack of hair. Actually, you quite enjoyed it. 
“Oh, I’ve missed you so much.” Elvis set you down, his arms still wrapped around you as he held you to his chest. You nuzzled into him, hugging him tightly as though he would leave you again should you let go. You heard his chest rumble with laughter as he placed a hand on the back of your head, seemingly talking to your father as he said, “Think she missed me, too?”
“Only a little,” the man responded, and you smiled into the jacket of Elvis’s uniform. It had taken a while for your father to warm up to the idea of you and Elvis Presley — ultimately, it took the proof of him not leaving you when he got shipped off. It was up until a year into you and the boy still talking that your father finally came to terms with your relationship. He’d told your mother that he was afraid Elvis would break his daughter’s heart, since, after all, he’s Elvis Presley. Your father chose to believe the media outlets over situations like these, so he’s never had a fond outlook on the boy, even before you began dating. And if he’s away in the military for two years, your father had said, nothing good would come from that. But, you proved him wrong, and here he was, almost as happy to see the boy as you were. Almost. 
“Come on! I-I wanna show you my dress!” you exclaimed after pulling away from the boy, and you looked to your parents for approval. They nodded, and as quick as you had come down, you were pulling Elvis upstairs to your room. While he was away, Elvis had missed your high school graduation, along with your senior prom. He wrote you saying how much he wished he could be there, and when you responded you’d even sent him a few photographs your mother had taken of you on that evening, a few solo but a couple with the boy who had taken you, as well. You were stuck with the privilege of going with a mister Tommy Baker, a boy you’d known since you were little as your mothers were best friends. Elvis didn’t like the idea of you going with another boy, but you reassured him that as a girl, you had to go with a boy. And if he wasn’t there to take you, Tommy was the next best thing. If you had gone to the senior prom by yourself, it would’ve been humiliating, and it would’ve been even worse had you gone with a friend like Lucy, which is what Elvis suggested when he wrote you back. He got over it quickly though when he saw you in your dress, and he asked if you would show him in person when he came home. Lucky for him, you remembered. 
It was also just an excuse to get him alone in your room. 
“The pictures don’t do it justice — look at how pretty this colour is.” You unzipped the bag that your pretty purple prom dress resided in, and Elvis hummed in approval. “I would show you what it looks like on, but it takes ages to get into and then tie up.”
“That’s alright, baby. Another time.” You felt his arms wrap around your waist as you zipped the bag back up, and you blushed when he rested his chin on your shoulder. “For now, I wanna kiss you.” Elvis pressed his lips to your cheek, and then your jaw, and you giggled as you pushed him away. 
“Let me hang this back up first. And Mama’ll kill me if she sees us kissin’ in my room.”
“That’s why we keep the door closed,” Elvis said slyly, moving across the room to grab the handle on your bedroom door, slowly and carefully closing it. You scolded him in a whisperful way as he twisted the handle, shutting it without a sound despite your protests. 
“Are you crazy? Daddy’s gonna kill you! An’ then he’ll kill me!”
“That’s why we lock it, too.” He clicked it shut and you smacked the boy on the arm. Chuckling, Elvis grabbed your wrist in the process, pulling you over to him expertly as his free hand snuck its way to your lower back, and he dipped you down while he connected your lips. 
The feeling of the kiss was too good for you to worry about the door much longer, and finally you allowed yourself to melt into him. His hand moved to cup your face, fingers twisting into your hair on the back of your head while he held you dangerously close. You felt his tongue slide past your lips and nearly gasped as it met yours, such a vile action that had your stomach dropping in the best way possible. 
“Two years was much too long,” he said when you pulled away to catch your breath, and his words couldn’t help but cause a smile on your lips. His hand tightened its hold on your cheek, thumb brushing over the soft skin as he gazed down at you. His blue eyes were even more beautiful than you remembered, and you fought the urge to lean up and kiss him again. 
“You’re tellin’ me,” you responded, and Elvis smiled small before he read your mind and bent down to connect your lips once more. As you kissed, all you could think about were those three words you’d been denying to write to him. I love you. It was such a simple saying, but for some reason thinking about saying it out loud had you more nervous than you were when you had to slow dance with Tommy Baker at prom. You loved Elvis so goddamn much it made your toes curl and your heart speed up so fast you were certain you’d go into cardiac arrest. And if you didn’t tell him soon, you were beginning to think that might not be an exaggeration. 
“Elvis,” you said, placing a hand on the boy’s chest to signal you wanted to stop. Immediately, he pulled away, blue eyes gazing down at you concerningly, his lips swollen from the prior activity and his chest rising and falling with deep breaths under your hand. You stared up at him, heart pounding and mouth growing dry, despite the sloppy kissing you’d just endured with the boy towering above you. His eyes were sparkling and his lips were so pink and full and he just looked so beautiful— “Kiss me again.”
So he did, and you wanted to curse yourself for chickening out but his lips were too entrancing. Elvis began leading you backwards, his hands sure to keep you steady when your knees hit the edge of your bed and you collapsed onto the mattress, his body falling over you gracefully. Elvis flipped you over, your legs moving to straddle him as he pulled you on top, and it was then that you pulled away, tucking your hair behind your ears as you repositioned yourself awkwardly. Elvis sat up on his elbows, staring at you. “You okay, lil darlin’?”
“Mhm.” You sat back, dropping your hands into your lap before realizing that was his crotch, and then lifting them as quick as you realized. The boy chuckled, smirking up at your flustered expression. “Oh!— Sorry.”
“You’re all good, mama.” 
The nicknames he gave you never failed to erupt a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, on top of the nerves you felt just thinking about what you needed to say to him. It was now or never, you thought, staring back at the boy who lay under you, watching you with a look of love and adoration in his eyes entirely, a lazy smile on his lips and dark hair styled to perfection atop his head. The sight alone was enough to have you blushing. “Elvis, I…”
You couldn’t get the words out before a shout came to cut you off, and suddenly the nerves in your belly weren’t caused by the preparation of admittance. “Y/N Y/L/N! What did I say about boys in your room with the door closed!”
“Sorry, Momma!” you called back, smacking Elvis on the arm as he chuckled lightly. You climbed off him, rushing to open the door before stepping out into the hallway to apologize face to face. When you went back inside, Elvis was sitting upright on your bed, a picture frame in his hands before he glanced up at you. “See, I told you you’d get me in trouble!”
“Hardly,” he said, setting the picture frame back down on your nightstand. Elvis reached out for you, tugging at your skirt to pull you closer to him. You stood between his legs, peering down at him as your hands came to rest on his shoulders. He smirked up at you, resting his hands on your hips while he looked on at you devilishly. “I like it when you’re bad ‘cus o’ me.”
Your mind went fuzzy, stomach dropping at his raspy tone, his words dangerous. 
“Makes you even sexier.”
Your head turned to see if your mother was still out in the hallway, and Elvis’s hands on the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer, had you turning back to him. “Eyes on me, baby.” He brought his hand to your chin, tilting your head down with his fingers. “Could be more fun this way.” He was gesturing to the lack of privacy, with the open door, and how suspenseful it would be, but you couldn’t ignore what would happen if your mother — or worse, your father — walked in at the wrong time. Elvis, on the other hand, couldn’t care less, as he was pulling you back in for another kiss.
“You’re crazy,” you whispered against his lips, and you felt they turn into a smirk as he whispered back, “I know,” before crashing his lips down onto yours for the third time that day. 
You had your hands on his shoulders to keep you steady, but no amount of stability could keep your knees from weakening when you felt his hands slip under your blouse, making contact with the foreign skin as he held you at your sides. He flipped you over then, laying you down on your bed as he knelt over you slightly, keeping watch of the door. His hands were still under your shirt, sneaking their way down, and it was a dangerous touch but the way he was so delicate, fingers whispering across your skin as they slid into the waistband of your skirt, plucking at the fabric of your panties — you were more than certain it was the right thing to do. Everything he did, he did with such certainty that you couldn't help but agree with him. He was ethereal, and you were sure you wouldn’t have let any other man touch you the way he was doing now. Not until marriage, at least. 
But yet, this boy had you under him, no ring on your finger, begging for his touch as his fingers slipped under your panties. 
“Elvis,” you whimpered, and the boy shushed you as he ran a finger up your folds. 
“Gonna have to be quiet for me, darlin’. Ain’t nobody gonna hear a sound, alright?” He began working two fingers over you, a feeling so foreign to you you couldn’t help but shiver, and the way you leaned your head back, teeth biting down on your lip, had Elvis struggling to contain himself, too. “So wet for me, sweetheart. You been waitin’ so long for me to come home to ya, haven’t ya?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, thighs clenching together as he had his hand buried deep between them. He finally entered a finger in you, your jaw falling open at the foreign feeling of penetration inside of you. 
“That feel good, baby?” The suspense of being caught felt almost as good as the quiet, raspiness of his voice caused, and you couldn’t decide if those two things trumped the feeling of his fingers working you over. Every sense of yours was heightened and you could’ve sworn this was what cloud nine felt like. 
He entered a second finger, pumping the two of them in and out before adding his thumb into the mix, rubbing your clit lightly to create a nice, steady pace for you. Your back arched off the bed at the feeling, a few whines escaping your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, and Elvis shushed you before placing a hand over your mouth when he increased the speed of his fingers. 
They were thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace, curling inside of you to hit your g-spot while his thumb pressed circles into your clit as well. You were wiggling underneath him much more than you were minutes before, telling him that you were close to release, and Elvis pulled away with no warning, making you whine in distress. Was he just gonna leave you here like this?
He crossed your room to shut the door halfway, leaving it open just a few inches so that at least the bed wasn’t visible to anyone passing through the hallway. Elvis made his way back to the bed, where you sat on the edge with a pout on your lips. He chuckled, moving to stand in front of you as he grabbed your chin, tilting your head back so you looked up at him. 
“You liked that?”
You nodded submissively, your pupils shot and eyelids weary from the bliss you didn’t think was possible from the vulgar act you’d just taken part in. Elvis clenched his jaw as he moved to kneel between your legs, his arms wrapping around your calves to pull you forward. At the sudden movement you squealed, falling back onto the bed, feeling him place his hands on your thighs underneath your skirt. He slid your panties off smoothly, discarding them somewhere unknown, before pushing your skirt higher up your stomach. 
“This alright, darlin’?” he asked, and the weak attempt at a hum of approval was enough for him. You felt his lips meet the skin of your inner thighs, dangerously close to where his fingers had just been minutes before, and your breath hitched.
“O… Oh,” you moaned, leaning up some to cast a quick glance down at the boy below you. His fingers gripped into your thighs, lips moving across your skin hastily, and it was when you felt his tongue like a stripe up your core that you fell back onto your back, a loud moan escaping past your lips. 
Elvis pulled away as quick as he could, smacking you on the thigh lightly as he shushed you. “Don’t want us to get caught now, do ya?” he asked, and you shook your head apologetically. He got to his feet, leaning over you as his hand gripped your face much like how he had done at the concert, your first interaction with the boy. Now, two years later, he had you in the same position, still writhing underneath his touch. “Gonna have to contain yourself, baby. Can you do that for me?”
“Y-yes,” you nodded, and Elvis hummed, half satisfied with your answer, before he kneeled back down between your thighs and went to work. If you thought that first bit felt good, you were in for a treat. Elvis had your heart in your throat, your back arched off the bed with your fingers digging into the bed sheets while his tongue worked you over. 
It was taking all of you not to scream out his name, your moans dying off your tongue before you could project them out. All you wanted to do was lean your head back and cry out in pleasure, his lips sucking at your core like his life depended on it. You’d never experienced a feeling like this, and it had you spiralling. You weren’t sure if you wanted to chase your release or just stay in this moment forever. 
“Fuck,” you heard Elvis mutter as he adjusted, pulling your thighs closer with his fingers pressed into your skin, lips brushing over your heat again. He kissed the delicate area before standing up, placing a hand next to your head as he leaned into your neck and whispered, “You got no clue what you do to me, baby girl.” It was then that he lowered his hips, rolling them onto yours, and you felt a bulge pressing against the fabric of his pants, now pushing against you. It was big, and you couldn’t deny that his size was doing anything but turning you away from the idea of him burying himself inside you. 
“Please,” you whispered, head rolling back as you felt him thrust against you, fully clothed. Your hand gripped his bicep, your other hand coming to push his button up further up on his stomach, fingers making contact with his warm skin. 
“You want this, baby?” Elvis was imitating the acts of intercourse now, his hips moving with yours while you wrapped your legs loosely around his torso. His hand strayed down to your heat, finding your wet core as he began rubbing your clit while he continued his previous actions. “You like it when I touch you?”
“Mhm,” you whined, digging your nails into his arm that held himself above you. 
“How much?”
“A-A lot,” you mumbled, trying to keep quiet as you bucked your hips against his hand, searching for friction and that feeling that you had no clue about, but you knew it was something extraordinary. “Go-Go back.”
“Back where, baby?”
“Down. I—” Before you could finish, Elvis was sinking back down to his knees, pulling you close and burying himself between your thighs again. You were whimpering, sitting up slightly at the shock of his tongue against you. Your fingers were digging deep into the jungle of his hair, teeth clenching down on your lip to stop you from screaming out. 
His tongue licked at you, the speed ferocious as he focused on your bundle of nerves above everything else. He knew exactly where to pleasure you, exactly what felt the best, and Lord were you grateful for it. Within seconds, you had your stomach clenching, your head thrown back and your legs shaking. A feeling of euphoria washed over you as Elvis worked his magic between your trembling thighs, and once you fell back, releasing your hand from his hair, Elvis knew his work was done. He climbed back over you, grinning from ear to ear as he placed a kiss to your cheek. 
“How you doin’, baby?”
“Fantastic,” you breathed, opening your eyes, and the boy chuckled before you pulled him in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on him, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t get enough of him. 
“Woah, slow your roll there, mama. Not much else to do ’cept put a baby in ya.”
“At this point I ain’t even care.”
“Now who’s the crazy one?” he teased, and you smiled up at him as he sat beside you, your head coming to rest in his lap. Elvis reached down to fix your skirt and your blouse, his hand taking home on your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek while he looked down at you.
“Elvis?” you said, staring into his eyes. Now or never, Y/N.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
You gulped. “I love you.” 
The look on his face didn’t change too much for a while, which had you nervous. It wasn’t until you saw a smile peek at the corner of his lips that you let out a breath of relief. “You love me?” he asked, and you nodded, letting out a smile of your own. “Well that’s good, baby. ’Cause I’m crazy about you.”
You blushed, grinning wildly now, unable to contain it from spreading across your face like a wildfire. “You are?”
“I been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you, baby. You won’t even believe.”
The grin on your lips turned into a mischievous one, and you knew you had Elvis to blame for that. He wasn’t the greatest influence, but you loved it. “Well if I won’t believe, why don’t you make me?”
The look cast across Elvis’s face was more shock than anything, but it quickly transformed into a daunting expression, eyes excited and the smirk on his lips wicked. “You sure are trouble, ain’t you, little one?”
“You’re to blame for that.”
“Oh, am I?” He was sliding off the bed, fingers caressing down the tops of your thighs with him. “I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.”
“You know what?” you said, watching as he sank to his knees again, large hands moving to wrap around the backs of your knees. “Me neither.”
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cilliansmesoftly · 1 year
Text
the cowboy hat rule
summary: you and austin are at a bar and you put on another guy’s cowboy hat.
warning: smut, sexual harassment, angst, friends to lovers, alcohol mention, cowboy!au austin, fem!reader
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“austin, c’mon! we came here to have fun!” you whined to your best friend, hand tugging at the denim jacket he was wearing. you’d been trying to get him to come to the dance floor with you since you arrived, but he wouldn’t budge.
“go on, doll. i might come in a little bit.” he laughed as he watched you pout. you huffed a breath before turning to the crowd and making your way to the dancing line. austin watched as you jumped right in, dancing with all the other people who grew up on the same line dances. he watched as your hair was tossed over your shoulder when you turned, facing away from him. his eyes traveled a bit lower, much to his disdain, and marveled at your hips and your ass. those jeans you wore never failed to make his heart flutter and make blood rush his cheeks.
to get his mind off of you for a moment, he turned away from the railing and walked towards the bar to get another beer. he adjusted his cowboy hat sitting atop his head as the bartender passed him the glass bottle. he lifted it up to his lips, taking a sip, and turned to check on you. and what he saw nearly made his blood boil.
there you were, dancing with the group of people, but a man was behind you. his hands were splayed around your waist, dragging to back to him. you were laughing, so cutely innocent at his intentions.
austin sighed, closing his eyes to relax himself and to remind himself that you weren’t his. you had the freedom of flirting with shitty dudes at bars. just as he was calming down, he opened his eyes to see the man placing his cowboy hat on your head, smiling smugly. you were smiling, adjusting the hat. you had no clue, and the thought just aggravated austin more. this guy really believed he was gonna take you home.
“oh, hell no.” austin muttered to himself, swigging the last of his beer and laying down some money on the counter before walking to the dance floor.
“austin!” you cheered, arms outstretched for him. he smiled tightly at you, moving his cold gaze to the man still touching you. without even looking at you, austin grabbed the hat off your head and l pushed it into the guy’s chest, making him take a few steps back.
“what the fuck, man?” he slurred, obviously drunk.
“don’t even fuckin’ think about touching her.” austin seethed, turning to face you. your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, but you allowed austin to guide you away from the man.
“she wanted it, man! you saw her wearin’ my damn hat.” the guy called out to you both, austin stopped in his tracks taking a deep breath. “you can’t tell me she didn’t know the rule. a pretty little thing like that, she was asking for it.”
that pushed austin over the edge, turning around with his fists clenched. he face the guy, squaring his shoulders before punching him, a gnarly crack was heard and you gasped as the guy fell to the ground.
“austin!” you grabbed his arm, dragging him away from everyone. “what the fuck?”
his eyes never strayed from the man, his jaw clenched and eyes dark. he was huffing, chest heaving until you brought your hand to his cheek and his eyes softened as he turned his gaze to you.
“c’mon. we’re going home.” his voice was thick, accent barely peaking through. despite his hard exterior, his hand softly clutched yours to guide you out of the bar and into his old, beat up truck. he opened the door for you and closed it before walking to the drivers side and resting his hands on the steering wheel.
“are we gonna talk about that?” he ignored you, turning the key in the ignition and leaving the old bar in a cloud of dust. you sat silently, staring at your hands sitting in your lap. the radio was on playing an old george strait hit which did wonders to ease the tense silence between you two.
before you knew it, you had arrived at austin’s house. it was always tradition for the two of you to have a weekend together. your busy work schedules never allowed the time to hang out during the week.
austin threw the truck in park and took the key out of the ignition. you turned your head towards him, silently begging for an explanation. he nodded to himself before taking a deep breath and looking out of the window to avoid your piercing gaze.
“you know the hat rule?” he asked. his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white.
“no.” you stated softly. despite living in the south all your life, you never really got into the whole ‘cowboy aesthetic’ you didn’t know many staple songs, you didn’t know all the line dances, and apparently there was a rule about a man’s cowboy hat.
“wear the hat, ride the cowboy? it’s basically… it’s basically a way for a guy to claim you without having to ask.” his nostrils flared at the thought of you with him. he couldn’t help but imagine his hands all over you, in places his hands should be. “i know you’re upset about me losing my temper, but you think i could just sit there and let him do that?”
“austin.. i didn’t know. you think i would’ve let him if i knew?” you scoffed, how could he be mad at you if you were clueless to their whole cowboy gang rules? “why are you so upset about it anyways?”
“y/n—”
“am i not allowed to be with other guys?” you were getting angry now. austin had always drove the men away that you even found the slightest of interest in, but you never understood why. he had his other girlfriends, though they’d never last long. after the breakups, he’d come running into your arms. he’d take solace in your presence and you’d comfort him in any way he needed. you’ve had feelings for him for all your life, but you never thought he felt the same. being his best friend was enough for you, but you were starting to hate that he never wanted you with any other guy except him. “you always drive away any man that breathes near me.”
“cause i like you!” he yelled, making you flinch. he sighed, grabbing your hand from your lap and turning to face you. “you have no idea how long i’ve been in love with you, y/n. i wake up thinkin’ bout you, i go to sleep thinkin’ about you. it’s- it’s a fucking sickness. every time i even think about someone else having you, i just— i get furious. i understand if you don’t feel the same way, but please, please don’t abandon me. i’ve gone my whole life with these feelings, i think i can manage.”
you were shocked, your eyes looked over everything about him. his freckles, his eyes, his plump lips, his nose, everything. everything that you’d ever wanted to hear from him just spilled from his lips. you didn’t know what to say or what to do. your hands were moving before you could stop them and grabbed the hat off the top of his head before placing it on yours, cheeks tinting pink at your boldness. you didn’t need to say anything because austin had already pushed forward to capture your lips with his. his sighed into it, this was everything he’d ever wanted and more. it was better than he imagined. he could taste your chapstick and he could smell the perfume you put on, slightly putting him in a trance.
austin’s hands found your waist, dragging you over to sit on his lap. you giggled as you accidentally hit the horn, throwing a leg over his. the tip of his hat was hitting his forehead and austin tipped it back on your head. his tongue traced against your bottom lip, a whimper from him that was muffled against you as his tongue massaged yours. his touch felt electric against you and you could feel his cock hardening through his jeans.
“let’s go inside, yeah?” you mumbled against his lips, breaths heaving and hearts pounding. he nodded, pulling the handle on the door. you expected him to put you down, but he just carried you to the porch, unlocking the door with one hand and the other supporting your bottom. he guided you to the kitchen where he set you down on the counter. your legs stayed wrapped around his waist as he brought his kisses down to your neck, licking, sucking, and biting the soft skin and most definitely leaving marks for you to admire the next morning.
you felt austin’s hands drift their way to the jeans you were wearing, unbuttoning them slowly and taking the zipper down. he pulled them down your legs, his fingertips, barely grazing you, left goosebumps on your skin and you hurriedly kicked them off your ankles and onto the kitchen floor. he leaned back to admire you for a second, cropped white tank top riding up with all the wiggling you were doing and letting him catch a glimpse of your stomach. he eyed your delicate panties, a bow at the hem that was driving him crazy and the wet spot over your core that had him nearly falling to his knees.
“so gorgeous, honey.” you blushed at his words, hands shielding your face from his eyes. “no, none of that.” he grabbed your hands and kissed your palms. you leaned up, capturing his lips again and you moaned when you felt his bulge grind against your clothed clit. the noises coming from you sent austin into a frenzy, leaning away from you again to undo his belt and his jeans, pushing them down his legs. he toyed with the hem of your panties, admiring the innocent bow once again, then tugged them down your legs at an agonizingly slow speed. you wanted him all over you, wanted to feel him, kiss him, love him. you wanted it all, and you wanted it now.
“god, austin. fuck me.” you heaved, back arching off the countertop in pleasure. austin laughed breathlessly, shaking his head.
“i’ve waited my whole life for this, i’m gonna soak it all in, angel.” your heart swelled at his words, you knew he was right. but you just had to argue.
“why take it slow? gonna have me for the rest of your life.” his head dropped against your chest, a groan coming out against the material of your tanktop.
“you’re gonna kill me.” he shook his head against you, kissing your clothed chest. he moved down, kissing the bare skin of your stomach just above your naval. you were squirming when he finally set his sights on your core and he laid his arm over your hips to keep you still. “such a pretty pussy, honey. all this for me?” his finger gathered the wetness at your entrance, pushing it into you and you bit your lip to contain the curses begging to spill out.
“all for you.” you said breathily, leaning up on your elbows to watch him begin to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling the two digits to stretch you out.
“so tight.” he muttered before latching his lips onto your clit and sucking at the bud, your arms collapsed underneath you and you laid back on the cold counter. your legs wrapped around his head, ankles crossing behind his neck. the cowboy hat on your head tipped in front of your eyes as it hit the counter and you moved to take it off, but austin hummed around your clit, the vibration making you clench around his fingers. “leave it on.”
you moaned again, legs clenching around his head even tighter. your orgasm was approaching much faster than you intended, with his tongue doing wonders on your clit, his fingers moving in and out of you at a perfect pace, it was hard to hold back. he could tell you were close by your sounds, your movements, your core clenching his fingers harder and harder with every thrust. just as you were tipping over the edge, austin pulled his fingers out, leaving you a gasping mess. you whined, but it was short-lived as austin moved up to take the hat off your head and kiss you deeply, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to push you into him.
he couldn’t get enough of you, he felt crazy. he felt like a crazy, starved man. he knew once he got his fix, his hands, his mouth, his mind would never leave you.
“take me to the bedroom.” you whispered against his lips and he pulled you up, lips still attached, and carried you bridal style to the master suite. you giggled as he plopped you down on the soft duvet, your hair splayed behind you. austin smiled down at you making you blush and turn away.
“don’t get all shy on me now, princess.” he laughed, hand rubbing up and down in your bare leg. he stood straight and took off his jacket, leaving him in just a plain white t-shirt. you could see the muscles of his toned stomach through the material and you had to clench your legs at the sight. you leaned up, now sitting on your knees with him standing in front of you, and played with the hem of his shirt. “take it off if you want to, honey.” you bit your lip at the sweet name falling from his lips, raising the hem of his shirt higher and higher until it was thrown to the ground. you marveled at the sight of him. his chest, with hairs littered about, had freckles all over from days spent in the sun. his stomach was lean with abs that made your mouth water. but your favorite sight was his happy trail, hairs going from the bottom of his belly button down to what you wanted most.
“can i take these off, too?” you looked up at him through your lashes, toying with the elastic band of his underwear. he nodded, breathing heavily through his nose. you tugged the band down his legs and he kicked them off. his cock was a sight, the tip was leaking precum from the arousal you caused him and so, so pretty. the tamed hair around his pelvic bones made you ever wetter. your hand wrapped itself around the shaft and you brought the tip to your lips, kissing away the bead of his arousal. austin sighed loudly, leaning his head back. you went further down on him, but you couldn’t fit it all. you slowly jerked off what you couldn’t fit and bobbed your head around what you could. austin was a whimpering mess, hands finding comfort in your hair and, most likely, tangling it.
“god, i’m already close.” your eyes were watering as you took him deeper. a few minutes later, you felt him twitch inside your mouth and you picked up your pace. you looked up to see austin shaking his head before he gently pulled out of your mouth. “wanna finish inside of you.”
“jesus christ.” you moaned, laying back down on the bed. austin kneeled between your legs, jerking himself off for a second before finding your entrance. he looked into your eyes for consent and you nodded. he pushed in gently, eyes shutting tightly and jaw clenching.
“feels like you were fuckin’ made for me, angel.” he said through gritted teeth. once he bottomed out, you both let out a breath of pleasure. austin’s slow hands wrapped around the thickness of your thighs before bringing them around his hips, hinting that he wanted you to wrap your legs around him. you did as hinted, locking your ankles at his lower back as he pulled out ever so slowly and started thrusting a slow pace to get you used to him.
“faster.” you whispered, your hand reaching the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. he sped up, his cock hitting any and all angles inside you. you were a moaning mess against his lips, your heavy breaths mixing with his. your foreheads were pressed together and the eye contact between the two of you was searing and almost too much to bear. you lifted your hips to meet his quick thrusts, making austin whimper and tuck his face into your neck. “fuckin’ me so good, honey. you feel so good.” you praised, which apparently austin liked because his hips snapped roughly into yours, hitting that sweet spot inside of you. you moaned loudly and the sound reverberated off the walls and came back to your ears.
“want you to ride me.” austin groaned in your ear and you nodded against the side of his head, pressing a kiss to his cheek sweetly. he turned you both over, keeping his length inside of you. as you sat down against his thighs, he hit even deeper. your feet were planted on the bed on either side of his thighs and you started to bounce on his cock, moving your hair to the side to get it out of your face. austin leaned up, chest pressed against yours, and brought his lips to yours. his hands grabbed your hips and rocked you even harder against him. you pushed his head back, kissing his neck and leaving lingering tattoo kisses against the smooth skin.
your orgasm was already building, the coil in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter with every perfect thrust. your legs were getting tired and austin could tell, so he leaned up fully, laying you down and fucking into you harder. he felt you clench around him, driving him crazy.
“perfect cunt clenching me so tight. you close, angel?” he asked gruffly into your ear. you moaned in response, your nails scratching down his back and leaving bright red marks. “me, too. hold it for a second, baby.”
“c-can’t.” you stuttered, your legs shaking and eyes tearing up at the overstimulation. “i w-want you to cum inside of me.” you whispered to him. austin moaned again, biting the skin on your neck. his thrusts fell out of pace and his cock twitched inside of you. with just a few more thrusts, your eyes clouded over, your body shook, and your climax reached its peak. you locked your legs tighter around austin, holding him close to you so he couldn’t pull out. whispering sweet praises into his ear, he groaned and you felt his warm seed spilling into you and he fucked it into you further. he collapsed against your chest, hearts beating in sync and so full of love.
“i love you, y/n.” he kissed the bare skin of your chest, his cheeks blushing a rose color.
“i love you more, aus.” he leaned up to kiss you before he slowly pulled out. you whined, but austin pressed his lips to yours to muffle the noise.
“i know, honey. i’ll be right back. gotta clean you up.” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose before disappearing into his bathroom. you could already imagine the ache your body would feel tomorrow, but right now? all that mattered was that your boy was finally yours. he belonged to you and you to him. it was perfect.
the waiting, the pining, the yearning, it was all worth it to you, because now you finally had him and you knew neither of you would let the other leave your arms ever again. and all of this… just because of a dumb cowboy rule.
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foreverdolly · 2 years
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tattooed heart | biker!austin butler x reader
summary: austin is the club president of a local outlaw biker gang- a one percenter. he lies, he kills and he doesn't apologize for it. he was one weakness- you. when he gets a distressed late night call from you he's quick to come to your rescue. the only problem? your own father was in the same motorcycle club that austin now runs, and after his death you cut all contact. when you two see each other again emotions run high and things get. . . a little out of control.
pairings: biker!austin butler x reader
word count: 12,074
warnings/notes: SMUT! violence, brief mention of dv (your ex), cursing, spitting, choking, blood play, unprotected sex, creampie, austin is obsessed with you, but what’s new? this one is wild and i might have to make it a series if ya'll like it enough, so feedback would be awesome.
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“That’s why you’re the treasurer, Marcus. You don’t run jack shit around here. You crunch the numbers, give them to me, and that’s what I go off of. That’s the definition of your job around here.” Austin sat up a little straighter in his leather work chair, jabbing his finger into the desk hard enough to rattle it as he spoke. “I don’t need you getting all high and mighty, trying to take charge of things. Xavier let all of you fuckers do whatever the hell you wanted while I was locked up, but I’m back now, so things are going back to the way they were.” All Austin wanted to do was go home and shower. It was nearly one in the morning, and he had barely gotten a wink of sleep over the last three days. The blonde had expected the Vice President to keep up with all of the prospects, club funds, and the general upkeep of the building as well as it’s members. It wasn’t too much to ask, right? Not when you were getting paid handsomely for it. Austin continued to run the more illegal practices himself while he rotted away in prison for two years, not trusting anyone else to do it. This- the mess on his desk- was the exact reason why he didn’t trust anyone. 
Marcus swallowed thickly, watching his boss nervously, as though he was a ticking time-bomb just waiting to go off. And maybe Austin was. He felt like it was only a matter of time before he absolutely flipped shit and destroyed either something or someone. No one had been keeping up with anything while he was gone. Austin had continued flowing money into this place, while all they did with it was buy booze, women, and lord knows what else. The building was an absolute wreck. There were holes in the walls, half of the toilets in the entire building no longer worked, and to make matters worse an enemy Club had broken into their garage two months ago and had stolen three of Austin’s classic bikes while he was still away. No one had the balls to call him up and tell him. 
What a nice fucking welcome home present. 
“If I come back here tomorrow and these papers aren’t dated and filed when I get back? I’ll have your fucking head,” He stood up roughly, leaning forward so that he could get right in Marcus’s face. “Are we clear?” His voice was eerily calm, using the same tone that he would when speaking to a child. The middle aged bald man hurriedly nodded, fumbling forward so that he could start scooping up the mass of papers. Austin kicked the leather chair he had just stood up from, hearing it clatter into the wall roughly behind him. “And fucking fix whatever the hell I just broke.” He muttered before walking out his office door. A few members were still hanging around, laughing amongst themselves as they sat around a poker table talking. The dumb assholes had the audacity to have their feet kicked up on the table, drinking Jack Daniel’s and shooting the shit as though they hadn’t absolutely destroyed the place. Austin’s eye twitched as he walked behind the bar, grabbing a fresh pack of Marlboros before sauntering over towards them. “What’s so funny guys?” They froze as they heard their President’s voice, all looking up at him with fearful, glassy eyes. “No, don’t quiet down now. I want to know what’s so fucking funny.” Austin had been out of prison for all of three days. The first two days he had tried to readjust to normal life, and today he was expecting to come back to the club, maybe fix a few things that were out of place, and then go about business as usual. 
He could barely sleep in his bed, now completely unused to a regular mattress, which had made it nearly impossible to keep his already ridiculous anger issues under control. Not only that, but he no longer had a bitch-boy bunkie to boss around and wannabe gangsters to treat as punching bags whenever he needed to let off some steam. Then he comes back to this? He was shaking, his sharp jawline ticking as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. He could barely resist the urge to bash the new member’s face into the table until the fuck stopped twitching. 
“You know what. . .” Austin grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He began wagging pointer finger at the group, all of them already shifting in their seats as they waited for the shit show that was bound to start any second. “I think I know what’s funny.” Austin grabbed an empty bottle of whiskey, lazily dragging it across the table before gripping it in his large hand. He stared down at the label for a few seconds, taking a steadying breath in through his nose before he finally looked back at the table. They flinched away from his heated gaze, the older member’s beginning to cower as they recognized the murderous intent in his eyes. “It’s how fucking disgusting this place is!” He reared back and tossed the glass against the wall behind them, the thing hitting the wooden surface so hard that it practically turned to dust. They all covered their heads, pushing their way out of their seats in an attempt to get away. “If you boys want to stay here and drink for the rest of the night, then by all means. Do it. But clean this place up first!” He stalked across the club, slamming the front door closed so hard that it shook the hinges, before straddling his Harley. 
The long drive home did wonders for his mood, but riding always did that for him. The cold air forced his hair off of his forehead and felt good against his hot face. Austin used the time that it took him to get from the club to his house to think. 
He never used to be the type of person to overthink. If something upset him, he’d try his damndest to push it from his mind completely. If the unwanted thought ever bubbled back up to the surface, he’d punch something and move on with his day. He didn’t like wasting time worrying about things that were out of his control. 
But he liked to worry about you. 
In the thirty minutes that it had taken for him to get home, somehow his mind had landed on the subject of. . . well. . . you. He wondered where you were, how you were doing, and for a second he worried about whether or not you had learned to hate him over time. Austin knew that he wasn’t a very well liked person, and for good reason. People either feared him or were taught to. It was how he had functioned his entire life. How he had been raised. Lying, stealing, and killing were just a way of life for him. A means to an end, really. He had learned it from his father, and his father had learned it from his. 
Austin came from a long line of outlaws. They did whatever the fuck they wanted and never apologized for it. You join the Club knowing that there is a possibility that you might not make it out alive. Only the strong survive, and Austin had been bred to be mean because of it. Your father had been the same way. The two of your parents had grown up together, and had both been the leaders of the very same Club that Austin now ran. 
You had been raised up right alongside him, and to say that he didn’t have a soft spot for you would be a damn lie. Austin had one weakness, and that was you. He hated feeling vulnerable. He absolutely couldn’t stand it, but he never could shake you, no matter how hard he had tried growing up. You had hollowed out his bones, and sunk deep deep deep into his marrow. You were just as much a part of him as his own flesh and blood. 
You weren’t cut out for the life that you had been born into though. All that senseless killing always got to you. It got to you bad. This wasn’t what you would have chosen for yourself- The One Percenters. You were tired of keeping your distance from people on the outside, too afraid to get them caught up in all the wrong things. You wanted a normal life. You had wanted to get out. Once you're in the club though, even if you’re born into it, it’s hard to leave. Your father had been the Vice President, meaning you had heard just about all of the comings and goings of the Clubs activities. Having you out of sight was a liability. Austin didn’t know what it meant to live a normal life, but he could understand the attachment you had to the idea. He could imagine that sort of life for himself too, but only if you were involved. There was no point if you weren’t. 
Loving you was the only good thing Austin had ever done in his life. 
Whenever your father died, he knew what would happen. He knew that the door to your cage had been busted wide open, and it was only natural for you to want to fly out. He didn’t harbor any anger towards you for it. It was the way that you had chosen to go about it that upset him so much. 
He wished you would have at least left a note. 
If you were going to disappear, then that meant that you had to disappear for good. That meant that Austin, who was next in line to take his father’s place, had to go. No call, no text, and no warning. He hadn’t even gotten a proper goodbye. One second he was holding your sobbing form at the funeral, and the next second you were gone. It was almost like your old life meant nothing to you at all. Like Austin meant nothing at all. It had crushed him. Totally and utterly devastated him. It was the kind of hurt that you never got over, no matter how many years passed. Time didn’t heal all wounds. You had taken a big piece of him with you, and it was a part of him that couldn’t heal over; couldn’t be replaced. 
Weeks went by. Then months. Then years. He didn’t know if you had moved out of state. He didn’t even know if you were alive. That was the part that kept him thinking. Kept him worried. The thought of you being hurt haunted his nightmares, and caused him to wake up the next morning teary eyed and shaky. He couldn’t protect you if he didn’t know where you were. He couldn’t keep you safe like he had when you were younger. Austin had spent nearly every day with you for twenty- two years. Trying to live without you was like learning how to walk again after losing a leg. It just. . . it was never the same. A day didn’t go by that he didn’t think about you. Austin stayed true to your wishes though, even in his own grief. He didn’t look for you, and if anyone asked him if he knew where you were he’d merely say that you were off studying abroad. He’d lied about having tabs on you. 
So here he was five years later, still thinking about a girl that couldn’t care less about him. Austin didn’t have the ability to open up his heart anymore than he already had. It just wasn’t big enough. Every fiber- every inch: you owned it. You had him in the palm of your hand, and that’s where he’s always stayed. 
Becoming the Club President was the only thing he really could do, unless he wanted to incur his father’s wrath. So he maimed and he killed and he schemed his way to the top. 
But Icarus had flown to the sun on wax wings, and even he had eventually fallen. 
The murders continued to pile up, and no matter how careful he had been with everything, eventually he too had fallen from grace. Prison wasn’t too bad, not when you had seen and done the things that Austin had throughout his entire life. The first thing he had done was pick a fight with the biggest fucker in the place, and no one had messed with him after he had been sent back from The Hole. Sure, some of the men locked up in there were bigger than Austin was, but he didn’t need a shank to be tough. Austin was a mean motherfucker, and he wasn’t opposed to killing with his bare hands. He wasn’t afraid to get messy. He had spent two years like that, holed up in his room with people avoiding him like he was the plague. People who knew who he was began to talk, and the word quickly got out. He didn’t need to click up. Nobody approached him. 
He thought about you a lot while he was locked up. There was no way to escape those thoughts or numb the pain that they brought with them. No, instead he took the brunt of it all. He thought about all of the things he had said to you over the years that he had come to regret. The worst part were the things that he never did get the nerve to actually tell you. He wished that he had told you that he loved you, even just once. Even if you didn’t return the sentiment, then he could have at least gotten the chance to say that he had tried. He thought about what his life could have been like if he hadn’t followed his father’s lead. If you had stayed and had given him a reason to change, maybe then he wouldn’t be in these fucked up situations. 
Because the shittiest part is that Austin would have liked the opportunity to have lived a normal life with you. A life where he didn’t have to kill just to survive. A life that he could have actually been proud of. Sure, the money was great, but it wasn’t worth it. He would have been happy living in a boring suburban neighborhood in a boring little town, and driving a boring family car. He would have found a way to make it all work out. He could have given that all to you. He should have given that all to you. 
But life never turns out the way that you want it to. So he stewed in all that regret while he rotted away in prison. He had been told that he could very well spend the rest of his life there. People from enemy Clubs had heard about him being locked up, and took it as an opportunity to snitch. They rattled off name after name of people that had gone “missing”, stating that he was to blame. 
And he was. 
His lawyer had called him on a Thursday morning and told him that some mistakes had been made with his booking papers, and a lot of the witnesses were suddenly taking back their statements. The trial didn’t have a leg to stand on after that. Austin, after only two years, was a free man. 
But he didn’t feel free. Not really, at least. 
So when he got back to his house after the shit show with the Club, he had stalked right up the stairs and shut himself away in his room. The shower that he took was quick, purely habit as he scrubbed his body as quickly as he could. He barely even took the time to dry himself off, tossing his towel onto the floor next to the clothes hamper, and climbing straight into bed. Austin had rolled himself up in his old duvet and melted into his pillows, and for the first night in almost a week he actually fell asleep. He was a light sleeper though, so the second his phone started ringing he was up, wide eyed and reaching for the gun that he kept tucked in his bed frame. After his heart had stopped pounding from the initial panic, he picked up. “Hello?” He grumbled, rubbing his sleepy eyes roughly with the palm of his hand while he tried desperately to wake himself up. His members knew better than to wake him up this early over something that wasn’t an emergency. “This better be good. What fuckin’ time is it?” He squinted his eyes as he turned his head to look at the bedside table, trying hard to get the blurriness out of his vision as he focused on the digital numbers of his clock: 3:24. He hadn’t even been asleep for two hours. His lips parted, ready to lay into the person on the other line. Then he heard it. 
“Aus?” 
Your voice. It was your voice. 
The second that the sound of it reached his ears, he nearly doubled over. Austin had heard once before that a person’s voice is the first thing that you forget about a person as time goes on. For the first year he had been terrified that he might forget the gorgeous, unrestrained sound of your laughter or the lilting, melodic pitch to your voice. He had replayed memories over again and again in his head, hoping to hang on to the exact way you sounded, but over time he must have gotten it wrong. Your voice was far more beautiful than he remembered. 
He sat up in bed, quick to push the comforter off of himself so that he could get up. He couldn’t think of a single good reason why would be calling him after five years, and so late into the night. No matter how beautiful your voice was, he could hear the panic in your tone. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. His heart had flown into his throat, and he found it hard to walk as he stumbled around his room in the dark, trying to find a pair of pants. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he had to get to you right away. Everything would be alright if he could just see you. Touch you. He could hear you sniffling softly, tears in your voice as you softly said his name again, almost too quiet for him to hear. It felt like he was breaking. His hands shook as he struggled to pull his shirt over his head, quickly pressing the phone back up to his ear when he heard something loud echoing on the other end. “Talk to me, baby.” He murmured, opening the door to his bedroom so that he could take the stairs two at a time, rushing to grab his motorcycle boots that he had by the front door. “I need you to come get me.” You were whispering into the phone, trying to keep as quiet as possible. 
So you must not be alone. He held the phone against his ear with his shoulder as he tied his boots up, rushing to double knot them before grabbing his keys and wallet. “I-It’s bad.” That was too vague, and he was beginning to spiral into a panic. He was used to making sure that things went smoothly. Austin was an insanely capable person- but he felt helpless. “What’s bad?” He locked the door behind himself before jogging to the back of his house so that he could grab his bike out of the garage. He could hear your distress. “Y/n, please.” He begged after the sound of your sniffles began to get too much for him. His heart couldn’t take it. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t breathe now that he knew you were in possible danger. You didn’t answer him, and for a second he was afraid that you had hung up. He pulled the phone away from his cheek, letting out a breath of relief when he saw that the call was still active. “Alright, tell me where you are at least. I’m coming, okay?” You whispered an unfamiliar address to him, and he was quick to type it into his GPS. 
He nearly died when he saw the estimated arrival time. Nearly bent over and puked all over his beat up old boots. You had been right under his nose the entire time. Twenty seven minutes. He had been twenty seven minutes from you this entire goddamn time. “Stay where you are, alright? I’m coming to get you.” He didn’t hang up the phone, merely shoved it into his back pocket. He had a feeling that if he hung the phone up, he might never hear from you again. He had already lost you one time, he couldn’t do it again. Not after hearing the fear in your voice. 
Austin couldn’t remember a time that he had ever driven that fast before. If a cop had seen him, they didn’t even bother turning their lights on and trying to pursue. He was like a bullet being shot into the dark. Gone in a flash. He almost felt bad for your neighbors when he pulled into your driveway. He was quick to move his foot against the kickstand, swinging his long leg over the bike so that he could slowly begin approaching the house. All the blinds seemed to be closed, so he couldn’t see if there were any lights on inside. He dug into his back pocket, pressing the phone against his ear. “I think I’m here,” His eyebrow raised as he heard some rustling in the background, but nearly dropped his phone when you screamed. The man had wondered why he had been the one that you called tonight. You must have known the way that he had turned out. He was everything that you supposedly hated, and yet here he was. People didn’t call Austin for help unless they wanted their bike worked on or they needed someone dead.
Seeing as he didn’t see a motorcycle in the driveway, he was guessing it was the latter. 
Somebody was in there with you, and you were scared, hurt, dying- fuck, he had no clue what was going on. All he did know was that the front door was locked and he had to get to you. The One Percenters were moraless creatures who usually didn’t give a damn about anybody but their own families. The rules were simple, yet usually easy to work your way around. There was one thing that was sacred though. Never lay your hand on a woman. This was worse though. This was twenty times worse, because whether you knew it or not, you were Austin’s woman. This - whatever was happening in there - warranted death, and if anyone in the Club found out that Austin didn’t kill whatever cock sucker was inside of that house, they’d start to question who he was as a man. 
He didn’t remember kicking the door in. He didn’t hear the wood splintering or glass breaking. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the blood rushing in his ears. “Who the fuck is downstairs, Y/n? Huh? Who the fuck did you call?” Austin jogged up the stairs, and the second that he turned the corner he saw the fucker staring right at him. The blonde was quick to try and look around the other man’s shoulders, desperate to find you. He needed to make sure that you were alright first, and then he would decide what he would do. He had just gotten out of prison, and he didn’t want to go back any time soon. Killing the fucker was out of the question. Half of the neighborhood must have heard him break down the door, and he was sure that he had a time limit. The cops would pull up any second.
“Who the fuck are you?” Austin liked it when people tried to act tough. Your boyfriend must have thought that he actually stood some sort of a chance. 
Austin didn’t answer at first, just squared off his shoulders as he waited for you to come out of the room. He could see you in the shadows, trying to walk up to the door, but the other man was quick to hold out his arm, using his body to keep you trapped. That didn’t sit well with Austin. “Hey!” He screamed, blue eyes narrowed on the other man. “She’s coming with me.” For a second the other guy just stood there, his arm pressed against your chest as he kept you trapped in the room. 
“Are you fucking stupid? I’m not letting her go anywhere with you.” Austin had only gotten a quick glance of your face, what with the house being so dark, but he could see a bruise on your cheek. Whether it was fresh or old, he didn’t know. All he knew was that you had been hit. In the blink of an eye Austin had lunged forward, grabbing the man by the front of the shirt and ripping him out of the doorway. He used the man’s weight against him, tossing him onto the floor like a ragdoll before climbing over the fucker. He began bringing his tattooed fist down, connecting it with the other man’s face again and again. Your boyfriend must have hit his head during the fall, because he was too stunned to move for a few moments. Too stunned to fight back. He tried to buck Austin off of him, but the blonde was like a rabid animal. His eyes were wild, his breathing was erratic, and he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. 
He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this sort of thing in front of you though. He had to stop for your sake. Austin grabbed the man by the front of his shirt again, hearing the stitches beginning to pop with the strength of his hold as he yanked him up, wanting them to be face to face to get his point across. “If she wasn’t here right now I would fucking gut you. Do you understand?” Austin had popped blood vessels in both of the man’s eyes, and he could tell that he was having a hard time focusing on anything else other than the immense pain in his face. The President was used to vocal answers at his orders. “Speak!” Austin screamed right into the man’s back, watching him flinch back. “Y-Yes.” Your boyfriend’s voice was quiet, but it was something. Ever so slowly the blonde stood up and off of the man’s chest, stepping around him so that he could get to you. 
You had been crying at some point, but had stopped right around the time that you had heard Austin arrive. He made sure that his grip was light on your wrist as he reached out to grab you, bringing you into his chest so that he could wrap his arm around you. He had you, and you were safe. He kept repeating that to himself, trying desperately to contain his anger. Austin started to walk you down the hall, but stopped as he noticed the man on the ground, watching you closely as you walked past. 
“Don’t fucking look at her.” Austin let go of you, motioning for you to make your way down the stairs. For a few seconds it looked like you weren’t going to obey him, almost like you were worried for the other man’s safety. The look in Austin’s eyes pushed you forward though. Made you want to get the hell out of that house and away from that horrible, horrible man. Austin looked at you like you mattered. You were safe with him, you knew it. Once you were down the stairs and out of sight, Austin reared his foot back, aiming for his upper chest. It didn’t take too many pounds of pressure to break someone’s clavicle, and he could tell by the satisfying wet popping noise that he had done just that. 
“God, I’ve barely even touched you and you’re screaming like a little bitch.” Austin crouched down, resting his elbows against his thighs as he took in the sight of him. He wanted to make sure that he memorized the fuckers face, because if he ever saw him out in public. . . 
“If you so much as breathe her name again and I find out? I will hunt you down like the dog that you are and skin you alive. I’ll rip every tooth out of your goddamn head and burn you down until you’re nothing but ash and I’ll make sure you’re still alive for all of it.” And with that Austin calmly stood up and made his way down the stairs, feeling around in his back pocket for his keys and phone. You were standing outside beside his bike, your arms wrapped around yourself tightly. “Hey,” He called out to you, reaching out to rub your shoulders up and down. “You’re going to be okay.” You melted into his soothing touch, because it was Austin.
Leaving Austin behind had been one of the hardest decisions that you ever had to make, but you had done it in the hopes of being able to actually live. Now that he stood in front of you, his blonde hair wind mussed and eyes wide, it really hit you just how much you had missed him. The way that he was looking at you now, you also realized that he was still very much your Austin. Just. . . with a lot more tattoos. “I want to make sure that you’re alright, but we have to get out of here. The cops will be here any minute, and the last thing I want is to be charged with breaking and entering along with assault and battery.” He was quick to hop onto his bike, turning his body to gently pat the leather seat behind him. “Come on. You remember how to do this, right?” He teased softly, trying to lighten the mood. It was becoming hard not to stare at you. Even bruised and tearstained, you were still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. 
He thought that he might go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of your face. You wiped at your cheeks roughly with the back of your hand before flashing him a shaky smile, climbing on back and wrapping your arms around him. He tried not to allow himself to get too excited as he felt your cheek press against his shoulder. He tried not to allow himself to hope. 
Unbeknownst to Austin, you were currently feeling the exact same way. You didn’t want to allow yourself to get sucked back into the Outlaw lifestyle, but if you thought that it was hard to say goodbye to Austin back then, now it would be soul crushing. No one had ever cared as much about you as Austin did, and seeing the way that he had protected you tonight? It put thoughts in your head. It made you doubt whether or not the life that you had been trying to live was really for you or not. You had tried your hand at being the dotting, innocent girlfriend in the hopes of getting everything you had ever thought that you wanted. A white picket fence, a stable future, and a loving partner that you could settle down with. You wanted to get married and have a family. 
You weren’t shocked by how far out into the wildness Austin lived. He was up on a mountain, the roads long and winding. Anybody that didn’t know the twists and turns like the back of their hand would get lost. The biker had always felt most comfortable in nature, and it made sense that he would want to be away from the hustle and bustle of their overpopulated city. Not only that, but it would make it near impossible for anyone that Austin didn’t want to know where he lived to find out. 
His house was a humble two story wood cabin with a large porch and dark green shutters. Time and weather had caused the paint to begin to chip off, and the grass and weeds in the front yard were overgrown. The place was still beautiful, but in need of some basic repairs and upkeep. “I’ve been gone for a little while, so it doesn’t look the best.” He mumbled, sticking his house key into the knob before opening the door wide for you. You could feel his eyes on you the entire way up the porch steps. It made your skin heat up and the hair raise on the back of your neck. After being tightly pressed against his back for nearly thirty minutes, you were finding it hard to look at him. You hadn’t allowed yourself to really stare at him since that first time you saw him walking up the stairs to you, because what you had seen, even in the dark, had knocked the breath out of your lungs. He had always been gorgeous, what with his sandy blonde locks and bright blue eyes. His lazy smile had always lit a fire inside of you, and the nervous habit that he had of biting his lips always left them plush and oh so pink. 
So as you brushed past him you couldn’t help but look up. You let your eyes soak up the sight of him. 
And you instantly regretted it. 
Never in all of your life had you ever seen a more beautiful man. His eyes were still that same antique bottle-blue that you loved so much, framed by thick, heavy lashes. Under the light of the porch his hair looked like liquid gold, now wavy and wild from the wind. His gorgeous, boarding on effeminate facial features were a stark contrast to the rest of him. He had filled out over time, his shoulders broad and strong. You could see his muscles even through the black shirt that he wore. His arms looked more than capable, the veins visible after the physical strain of the fight- and they were completely tattooed. There wasn’t an inch of skin that was visible to you that wasn’t covered- aside from his neck and face. Even his knuckles were tattooed, albeit badly bloodied, and suddenly you were overcome with the urge to grab his hands and examine them. You wanted to trace the line of all of his tattoos. Ask him what each one meant to him. 
You knew that you were being obvious with your staring, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander down. He was wearing light wash jeans on his long legs, the hem of his pants tucked over his bulky black boots. You had wondered what that rattling sound was that you heard when he jumped up onto the porch earlier, but you could now see that he was wearing a chain wallet. After a second he cleared his throat, closing the door behind you. “You’re probably exhausted. Uh. . . Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He nodded almost to himself, his throat working as he thickly swallowed. “Let me just take a shower, and then I’ll move down to the couch.” He grabbed the banister as he walked up the stairs, his boots thumping loudly against the wood. 
The spell hadn’t been broken, but you took a second now that he was out of sight to look around the living room. He had a leather couch, a dark brown blanket tossed over the black of it haphazardly. The coffee table had a few beer bottles on it, but other than that the house looked clean. He had always taken good care of his things. Austin was a man of pride, and he liked to keep the things in his life orderly. The cabin was warm and cozy, the polar opposite of the home that he had been raised in. Austin was what some would consider Outlaw royalty, and with the kind of jobs that they took, the money poured in quickly. His childhood home had been a gaudy palace; extravagant walls had been built sky high to help hide the skeletons that had been stuffed into every closet. 
This house felt lived in though. This felt less like just a place for him to sleep, and more so a safe haven for him to crawl back to after a long day at work. It made you feel more comfortable as you slowly made your way up the stairs behind him, following him into his bedroom. This room was also clean, aside from the overflowing clothes hamper. His furniture was black and minimalistic, and directly to the side of his king size bed were french doors that led out to a small balcony that overlooked his backyard. “You have a nice house. . . It’s very you.” You complimented, moving over to the bed so that you could awkwardly sit down. He was in the bathroom, riffling around in one of his cabinets before he found what it was that he wanted. He moved back into his bedroom, showing you a small washcloth that he had wet with cold water. “Let me clean you up a little bit.” He mumbled, sitting down next to you on the bed so that he could run the cloth over your cheek. You hissed, flinching back and out of his touch. Your bruised cheek was starting to get more and more sore as the seconds passed, the initial adrenaline finally working it’s way out of your system. He apologized under his breath, reaching out to grab the back of your head so that he could keep you in place. He was gentler this time as he ran the cloth over your face. “That’s going to be a nasty bruise tomorrow, but other than that you look-” He stopped himself for a second, as if he just realized how close he was to you. For a few seconds the two of you just stared at each other, taking in the small changes that time had made to each other’s features. “Aren’t you going to go take a shower?” Your voice sounded small. Unsure. The trauma of the night was beginning to sink in, and even though you wanted to ask him a hundred questions, you knew that a few moments alone in the room would do you some good. You needed to breathe, and maybe cry a little bit. You didn’t want him there for that. You wanted to be able to fall apart in private. 
He seemed to get the hint. Austin nodded his head, wordlessly standing up and tossing the wet cloth into the laundry basket. He started to close the bathroom door behind him, but you were quick to call out to him. “Wait!” He paused, whipping his head back as he stared at you expectantly. He was eager to hear what you wanted to say, almost like he was waiting for something in particular. “Can you leave the door open?” You weren’t sure why, but the room almost felt too big, like it might swallow you up if you were left alone. You at least wanted to know that he was just another room away. He looked a little confused for a second, but nodded anyway. He understood that there were things that had happened before he had gotten there. Things that had been said to you that were beginning to weigh heavy. Your bones felt too brittle to carry the burden of them. “Of course.” He left the door open a crack, and you politely turned your head, letting him get undressed without your watchful eyes. 
You could hear his clothing hit the floor, one garment at a time. First it was the loud thudding of his boots hitting the checkered tiles, then the soft fluttering of his t-shirt. Ever so slowly you leaned back against the bed, letting your feet dangle uselessly over the side. Your heart began to pound as you heard the zipper of his pants, then the soft jingling of his wallet as he placed it down on the sink counter. “Are you alright?” He finally spoke up. You turned your head then, looking through the doorway of the bathroom. You caught his reflection in the mirror, and he held your gaze. It wasn’t just his arms and hands that were tattooed. Your suspicions had been correct- he was absolutely covered. He let you stare at him, watching you patiently as your eyes moved from one tattoo to the next. He seemed to be a fan of the old american style, all thick black and red lines. He had always been perfect, but now? Your eyes felt like they would start to burn if you stared at him for too long. The sight of him was almost too much. 
He felt the same way about you though. He watched the way your hair was spread out around your head, your lips glossy and parted slightly as you thought about how to answer that question. He could feel his pulse in his throat, and the sight of you laid out on his bed? He had to take a step away from the mirror, turning on the showerhead to hide himself away. “I will be. I’m just glad you got there when you did.” Because you were sure that it would have gotten worse. Your ex boyfriend had always been self conscious, and he liked to take it out on you. When you were home just a few minutes late from work, he thought that you were cheating. If you turned your phone over after texting a friend, then you must be talking shit. It was a never ending pattern of pointing fingers, accusations, and brutal screaming matches. You were raised to stand up for yourself though. You refused to allow yourself to be spoken down to or made to feel like a fool. Tonight. . . tonight was the straw that broke the camel's back. You always knew that he could be ruthless with his words, but you never suspected that he would ever hit you. The One Percenters were horrible people, but you’d never seen your father raise a hand to your mother. There’d be occasional bickering and drunken screaming matches, but the next day they would be attached at the hip like nothing ever happened. You just expected that was how things were supposed to be. 
This new life that you had insisted on living wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Maybe you had screamed too loud, or maybe you had pushed your boyfriend too far. . . but he hadn’t pulled his punch either. You absentmindedly pressed your finger against your cheek, feeling how hot the bruise was under your touch. You were sure that tomorrow it would be swollen and purple, but for now it was just an angry red. 
“Did he do that a lot?” Austin closed the shower curtain behind him as he spoke, ducking his tall frame under the shower head. He closed his eyes tightly, letting the water soak through his hair and warm his face. “Hit you, I mean.” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer, because it might make him want to turn right back around and finish the job. “No. . . tonight was the first time.” A beat. “And the last.” He nodded his head softly, placing his shoulder against the cool tile. The stark differences in temperature made his skin raise with goosebumps. He knew that tonight wasn’t the night to question you. You had been through enough, but he wanted answers. 
He wanted to know why you had to shut him out so completely. There were things that you wanted to know about him too. Things you had been wondering over the years but were never able to ask. 
“So you’re the new boss, huh?” He scrubbed at the crusted blood on his hands, chewing on his lower lip as he hesitated. “Yeah.” You filled your cheeks with air, closing your eyes tightly before releasing it with a loud sigh. “Is the Club doing well?” Austin wasn’t sure if you really cared about how they were all doing. You hated it enough to leave, but you were trying to make small talk, so he humored you. “It’s a wreck. I nearly broke Marcus’s neck this afternoon when I saw the state of things.” You hummed, remembering the older man’s laziness. Your father had hated him.  “So I guess you’re not doing too hot as the president then.” He let out a quick laugh, the sound echoing in the bathroom. Your lip twitched up into a small smile at the sound of it. It was the first time you had heard him laugh in years. It was a nice sound. 
“I was locked up for two years. They know to act right when I’m around. They took advantage of the fact that I wasn’t there to watch over them.” You sat up quickly, looking into the bathroom. The mirror was beginning to fog up, and the shower curtain was drawn shut. “Prison?” You questioned. “Yeah, prison. I set fire to one of Howard’s buildings. Burned up at least a million dollars worth of product. It was originally arsen, but then some of his men started snitching. A couple of other charges were pinned against me. They got dropped though, don’t worry.” You rolled your eyes, letting out a small huff. This was exactly what you didn’t want for him. He was too good for all of this bullshit. Too smart. “Well I’m glad you’re out then.” You weren’t sure what else to say. He could tell by your tone of voice that you weren’t pleased, and he didn’t take too kindly to feeling judged. He clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking as he tried to stop himself from saying something. He never did have a filter though. 
“You still had my number saved in your phone.” He finally spoke up, his voice huskier than it was just a second ago. You swallowed, licking your lips nervously. This was one of the questions that you didn’t want to answer. You knew exactly where this conversation would go, and you didn’t have the energy for it. “Yeah, I did.” 
“Why though?” You heard him suck in a small breath. “No call. No text. Five years is an awfully long time.” You took a second to breathe, taking in the smell of the soap that he was using. It was wafting out from the bathroom, mixing in with the natural pine scent of his home. “I didn’t want to confuse you.” You regretted phrasing it that way. You even went as far as to bite your tongue the second that the words left your lips. It was true though. You didn’t want to confuse him or yourself. You set boundaries. Hard boundaries, and it was painful for the both of you. He let out a humorless laugh, the callous sound making you flinch. You wanted to cover your ears and curl up into a small ball. You hated how cold you were suddenly coming off. This wasn’t how you guys used to act around each other. You were both walking on eggshells. The two of you were acting like strangers, and it physically hurt. Your words tugged at Austin’s heart. Kinda made him want to cry. 
“Yeah. . . Yeah. You definitely wouldn’t want to confuse me. You’re right.” He spat the words out like they were poison, pulling the showercurtain to the side so that he could lean his head out. He stared at your blurry reflection in the mirror. “That’s such a half assed response, and you know it. Bull-fucking-shit. You wanted to live some perfect little life, and I didn’t fit the bill, right? I wasn’t good enough, so you cut me out like I never existed at all.” Your jaw dropped and you were quick to stand up and off of the bed. Your heart was beginning to pound again, your adrenaline kicking back up as he raised his voice at you. “I’m not going to accept that response, so you better come up with a better one, Y/n. We grew up together. You tossed me to the side like I was garbage and then only called me when you wanted me to knock a few of your ex’s teeth out.” He pulled the showercurtain shut roughly, the fabric rustling. 
You didn’t want to fight. You didn’t want to play into this. You took a few steadying breaths, picking at the skin of your nail with your thumb before speaking up. “I don’t want to do this with you, Austin. Not tonight.” Even though he couldn’t see you, you still threw your hands up in the air. Austin had a temper. You should have known saying something like that would have gotten him riled up. 
“No, I’ve waited five years for this conversation. Five. So no, this can’t wait until tomorrow.” You rolled your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to keep your own anger under control. “Can’t you be a little bit more sensitive to the situation? Jesus christ, Aus. Tonight isn’t the night. Leave it!” He laughed then. Loud, uncontrolled laughter. The kind with absolutely no humor behind it. All emotions. “You’re crazy. . .” You mumbled under your breath, taking a step closer to the bathroom. 
“Yes! Yes I am.” He was quick to snap back, supposedly hearing you even over the running water. “Crazy for thinking that you actually cared about me. I gave you the space that you so desperately wanted. . . but god dammit- I would have taken anything you had given me. You could have texted me. Emailed me. You could have called me from a payphone. Send me a mother fucking smoke signal! Scraps. You’ve got me begging for scraps, Y/n.” He was acting as though the two of you had been something more than just childhood friends. Nonetheless, your stomach still churned with guilt. You were beginning to feel like a wounded animal being backed into a corner. You were in the wrong. You knew that you were, but you weren’t going to be made to feel like an asshole twice in one night. 
“Well fuck me for wanting a fresh start, Austin. Fuck me for wanting to feel safe for once in my god damn life! I knew what would happen eventually. I didn’t want to get myself mixed up in this fucked up lifestyle any more than I already was.”Could he really not see where you were coming from? He was talking about setting fire to a drug lord’s storage building like it was nothing. How could he not see how messed up this all was? “You knew what would happen? Meaning. . . you knew how I would turn out. Am I getting that right? You just knew I’d turn out like my father, so instead of mentioning it to me and giving me the chance to talk to you, you just disappeared. Yeah, cause that’s a normal response.” Your jaw dropped. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Are you really trying to tell me what a normal response is? Seriously?” He scoffed, but you continued. “You kill people, Austin. Kill them.” 
He didn’t respond, but you kept going. “What you just said? It's a moot point. You turned out just like your father.” He was the one that had brought it up, so he didn’t really have a reason to be so angry. He still ripped the shower curtain back open though, sticking his whole torso out so that he could stare at you through the crack in the door. “Don’t you dare fucking say that shit to me. Don’t even try it.” His voice shook as he tried to keep himself from shouting. “You have no idea what plans I had for my life. You know I didn’t want to do this shit. You knew I wanted to try and get out too. It might have been easy for you, but it sure as hell wouldn’t have been that way for me.” Austin had always talked a big game while growing up, but he never acted on it. Was it so wrong that you never took him seriously? 
“I thought that you were just blowing smoke up my ass.” You were torn. Seeing him again was nice. . . too nice. It made you want to stay and suffer through whatever aggression he had saved up for you. This was getting to be too much though. You didn’t have a way of escaping, and your boyfriend had broken your phone after he saw that you were talking to Austin. You ran a shaky hand through your hair, feeling your eyes well up with unshed tears. “I fucked up, okay? I did you wrong, I know. Can you not see why I did all of it though? Can you not see where I’m coming from, even just a little bit?” You kept your voice quiet and even, and it seemed to work. You could hear Austin taking steadying breaths. You knew that he cared about you- maybe even in a romantic way- but you had no idea that it was to this extent. You loved Austin. You had ever since you were kids, but you saw what kind of a person his father was. You didn’t want to put yourself in that situation. You didn’t want to end up like your mother, yet here you were, standing in his bathroom with a bruised cheek and an even more damaged ego. 
“I would have gotten out with you. I would have found some way to hide the both of us. Burner phones, hideaway houses- anything. Fuck. . . anything.” He had probably stopped bathing a while ago. He was using the shower as an excuse to hide himself away from you. If he looked at you he was sure that he would break down. Get too vulnerable. The anger was steadily burning away, like alcohol to a flame, and all that was left was a crippling sadness. He leaned his forehead against the tile, closing his eyes tightly. You both knew where this was going, and neither of you were ready for it. It had to be said though. It couldn’t wait anymore. 
You had to lean against the bathroom doorway, your legs feeling too shaky and unstable underneath you. “But now you’re in too deep.” Your voice was thick with unshed tears, the realization of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. 
Because Austin loved you. And you loved Austin. He was caught in a trap, and there was no getting out. “I’m branded for life. I-I’ve done so much shit, Y/n.” He was trying hard not to cry. He hated crying more than anything, even if it was you that he was doing it in front of. He refused to appear weak. 
You didn’t want to know how many people he had hurt over the years. How many people he had killed. “There’s no way you would have meant it, Austin. You would have eventually regretted it. I did what I had to-” “I loved you. I really fucking loved you.” 
The words hung in the air for a second. Echoed around the bathroom and reverberated in your chest. There it was. The words the two of you had never had to say out loud because it had been crystal clear your whole lives. No matter who the two of you dated, it was always there. It was the reason why nothing ever worked out. Nothing ever stuck, and feelings never evolved. Because he was always there with that wide childlike smile and those big blue eyes. Austin was always there to save the day, always there to help you out when you needed him the most. He had never complained either. Not even once. No one could ever replace him. He had always been the love of your life, and for him it was the same. “I wouldn’t have left you. Not ever. I wanted a life with you. . . were you really that blind? Was I not as obvious as I always thought that I was? Do you need me to spell it out for you now?” You stumbled away from the door and into the bathroom, reaching out for the showercurtain and gripping it hard in your hand. “I would have risked my life trying to get the both of us-” You ripped the showercurtain back in one swift move, staring at him wide eyed. 
He didn’t shy away from your gaze either. He turned to face you, his sandy hair clinging to his cheeks and neck as he looked at you. Despite all of the anger and all of the sadness that was settling into the pit of his stomach, his eyes still softened when he looked at you. It was almost as though you two were seeing each other for the first time that night. Really seeing each other. Austin looked at you like you were the only thing that really mattered. Like you’d hung the fucking moon. No one except for Austin had ever looked at you with eyes so sad and yet so lovely. You didn’t just hear the words that he had said, but you had felt them too. It sent your heart into overdrive.
You stepped into the shower, clothes and all, and wrapped your arms around him tight. You had done twenty seven years of waiting. 
No more. 
No more. 
You pressed your lips against Austin’s, and the second that you did he had you pinned up against the tile wall, the cold ceramic pressing hard against your back while the water relentlessly streamed down your front. You were soaked within seconds, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the feel of his warm, naked body pressed up against you. Your lips moved against one another’s in a furious display of passion- all teeth and tongues. The two of you kissed as though you had been doing it for years- everything fell right into place. His soft lips moved in sync with yours, warm water pouring into your open mouths, but you swallowed it all. You wanted to take everything that he was willing to give you. His strong hands grabbed at your hips, fingers pulling against your wet clothes that were acting like a second skin. He pressed even harder against you, breathing you in. 
You took the opportunity to move your hands down his strong shoulders, to the muscles of his back, fingertips dragging against his skin as he softly took your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth. The noise you made spurred him on. He wondered how he could have survived so long without having you this way. 
He felt that if you ever stopped kissing him that he might die. He needed you like he needed air. Your hands explored his exposed skin, fingertips pressing against every ridge and sharp edge of his muscle. They made their way down until they were pinned in between your chests, slowly inching inching inching- “Please.” He gasped into your open mouth, blue eyes opening to look into your own. He wasn’t above begging you. Wasn’t above falling to his knees if it meant that he could have you. Your fingers brushed against his length, thumb sliding along his head. It felt like the air had been punched out of him. The feeling of your small hand wrapped around his cock was almost too much. Because it was you. 
You were touching him. You were touching him. 
You pumped your hand a few times, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He melted against you, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he pressed his forehead into the top of your head, nuzzling his nose into your wet hair. “Let me fuck you. God, let me fuck you.” His muscles shook as he tried to hold himself back. He squeezed his eyes shut so hard that he saw stars behind his eyelids. He wasn’t used to steering off his own urges. He was used to acting out on his anger. Acting out on all that hate that had turned him surly over the years. He felt you nod, and in a second he was fumbling to turn the water off. In the blink of an eye he had your legs wrapped around his waist, the two of you dripping water. He didn’t care. Not at all, because he had you laid back against the bed before you could even object. His eager hands were ripping at your wet clothes, peeling them off of you as quickly as his shaky hands would let him. His chest was already rising and falling at a rapid pace, eyes half lidded, lips a bright pink from your constant lip-locking. You let your eyes dip down, and god you nearly came just at the sight of him. You pushed your wet hair out of your eyes, arching your back as you tried to help him remove your pants. His eyes were darting across your body, trying to look everywhere- memorize every inch of you. “You’re beautiful. So, so beautiful.” He assured you as he slipped your pants down your legs, tossing them into a soggy heap on the floor. 
You wanted to tell him to just go ahead and take you. You needed his cock inside of you. 
You didn’t care about the foreplay. You just needed to feel him. You couldn’t think of anything else aside from him. Your mind was like a broken record. Because the sheer size of him alone was bringing you to near tears, but it was the desperation in his eyes that was your undoing. It was the way his strong, large hands shook as they danced over your body. They grabbed your hips, ran across your heaving stomach as you gulped back deep breaths, and squeezed your breasts tight. You couldn’t find the words to tell him that you wanted him to go ahead and make love to you. Couldn’t shape the syllables. Your tongue felt too thick in your mouth, and your throat felt like it was closing up. 
He gave your lips a warm kiss, trailing them down your chin and along the front of your throat. He paused there, feeling your pounding pulse against his mouth, letting his tongue lap against the wet skin. The sensation of his lips against you had you tilting your head back, your thighs pressing against his length. The both of you moaned at the same, his deep voice vibrating against your throat. His hands moved down your body, sliding easily along your soaked skin. He stopped once he found what he was looking for- and good god you thought your heart was going to stop. Austin pressed his fingers against your folds, feeling your slick, feeling everything. “Ah, fuck.” 
Everything about you was beautiful. Your body, your expressions, and the little noises he seemed to be effortlessly pulling out of you. The feel of you wasn’t enough though- he couldn’t survive off of that alone. He needed to taste you. He slid down your body removing his hands so that he could place them at your thighs, pulling them apart so that he could get a good look at you. You raised up on your elbows, watching him with half lidded eyes as he just laid there on his stomach and stared. If this had been anyone else you would have been self conscious, but you saw the look in his eyes. Saw the way his tongue darted out and licked his lips. “This is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” He was in complete awe of you. He knew that if he ever got lucky enough to see you laid bare in front of him like this, that you would be beautiful, but this? It was too much. You were too much. Even if this was just a one time thing for you, there couldn’t be anyone again for him. Not after this. You had ruined him. Completely. 
You had reached into his chest and ripped out his heart, and he was alright with that. 
He separated your folds with his fingers, really drinking you all in before he finally pressed his lips against you. You were quick to cry out, back arching up and off of the bed as your hand flew down, gripping at his wet hair. He set a devastating pace, his tongue flattening out as he licked along your clit, two fingers moving up to slip inside of your entrance. His fingers immediately curled inside of you, pressing against all of the right places. You were glad that he didn’t have any neighbors, because you screamed. How long had it been since someone had taken the time to pleasure you? Too long. Your thighs tried to close, the pleasure becoming too much. It was building too quickly- and you didn’t want to cum yet. 
“Stop. Stop- please.” He didn’t stop though. His eyes flew open, watching you as he felt your walls begin to flutter. He wanted to watch you come undone. “I want to cum on your cock- please.” That made him pause. You tightened around his fingers as he slowly pulled his face away from your core, his needy eyes pinning you down. “You asked so nicely,” He slowly pulled his fingers out, crawling back over you like a wild animal. His gaze was too heated. You had to turn your head to the side and shut your eyes tight. “Please, Austin.” He purred. Purred. 
“Such a good girl,” He pressed his fingers against your lips- the ones that had been inside of you- and you opened your mouth. He pressed his fingers against your tongue, watching you hungrily as you sucked them clean. “So perfect.” He mumbled. You couldn’t take it. You’d never felt so needy in your life. Your quivering thighs moved to wrap around his middle, positioning him at your entrance yourself. That was the final push that he needed. 
“Fuck! Austin!” You screamed as he thrust into you. Every. Inch. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t feel anything else but him. He was the only thing that existed. Your eyes shut tight, but the hand that wasn’t holding himself up quickly moved to your face, grabbing your chin in his hand tightly. “Eyes open.” And you obeyed. You hated authority. You always fought against it, but there was just something about him. You couldn’t deny him. 
His hips snapped against you at a pace that you didn’t think was possible. He fucked you like he was hoping your bones would meld. Like he could somehow absorb into your body. He was inside inside inside. Pressing against every part of you. He continued to hold your face in his hand, his grip tightening as he let out a growl of pleasure. His eyes fluttered, mouth dropping open as he pressed you into the bed. It had been years since he had been with a woman, and even if he hadn’t the pleasure would still have been too much for him. Because you were his woman. 
His one. 
He raised up on his knees, reaching down to grab your hip so that he could take you with him. The angle. The angle. He was fucking you so deep that it hurt. Brought tears to your eyes. But it was good. Too good. His other hand reached out, grabbing the headboard for leverage, his torso leaning over you as his hips continued their near impossible pace. “Oh fuck.” He wished he could have taken a picture of your face, but he settled with storing it deep into his memory. He wanted to relive this moment. Again and again. His cock twitched inside of you, you bliss stricken expression almost too much. He didn’t want to cum. He wasn’t done yet. His hold on the bed frame tightened, and you let out a yelp as you heard the wood crack behind you. He hissed, clenching his teeth in pain as he felt the splintered wood dig into his palm. 
You turned your head just in time to see a few drops of blood soak into the sheets, dripping off of his hand. Your eyes widened, and you were quick to turn your head. You were going to ask him if he was okay, but the second you saw the look on his face you knew that he was more than okay. The pain kept his orgasm at bay- snapped him out of it. He tightened his hold on the splintered wood, the muscles in his jaw working as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. After a second he put all of his wait on his knees, fucking up into you so that he could remove his hand. He took a second to look down at the deep gashes, licking his lips before his eyes found you again. He could have needed stitches- he didn’t care. He dropped his injured palm down to your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat. You could feel the hot blood smear against your skin, and you weren’t sure why- but never in your life had you ever experienced anything quite so sensual. So personal. 
Because he was marking you. 
He added pressure to his hold on your throat, cutting off airflow. You reached up, clawing at his arms and his chest, mouth opening as you let out a strangled cry. You were cumming. You could feel it. 
He could too. It pushed him to fuck into you harder, his large palm still pressed against your throat, two of his fingers moving up to pull at your bottom lip. He hooked his fingers into your mouth, pulling it open for him- and then he spit. Spit. 
You swallowed it too. 
Then you came undone. Eyes rolled back, head pressed hard against the mattress, and thighs quivering. He pulled an orgasm out of you so earth shattering that you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to breathe, even if he wasn’t still choking you. Your walls clamped down around him, and that was all it took to have him following close behind. He came with your name on his lips. Again and again he said it, driving his cum deep deep deep inside of you. He loosened his hold on your throat, and you sucked in a breath, choking on it. Your chest heaved as you tried to regulate your heart, and he was in a sad state as well. He was gulping down air, blue eyes wide, his arms shaking as he loosened his hold on you. 
Slowly he pulled out, looking down as he watched with grave interest as his cum began leaking out of your entrance. He moved his hand down, using his fingers to gather it up. Pushing it back in. For a few seconds the two of you just stayed there, staring at each other, trying hard to calm yourselves down. “L-Let me get a towel.” He could barely speak. His mouth felt numb and his eyes felt wet. “No,” You shook your head, licking your dry lips. You shut your eyes for a second, listening to the pounding of your heart and his panting breaths. “Leave it.” 
“Okay. . .” He trailed off, and you opened your eyes just in time to see the realization dawn on him. “Okay.” His eyes softened, his lips twitching up into a small smile. You wanted him. All of him. It was acceptance, no matter how vague. You wanted this.  You loved him. You loved him so much it felt like you might burst, your ribs aching under the pressure of it all. You were fucked. This life- no matter how messed up you thought it was- you could make it work. You would make it work, because it was Austin.
Your Austin.
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surferblues · 2 years
Text
nothing but trouble ! ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
austin butler! elvis x fem! reader
warnings semi public sex?, praising kink, unprotected sex, very short, and obviously, sexual themed.
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You and Elvis were strictly just friends, that's what he liked to call it. Nothing more than friends that enjoyed one another's company, one on one time, but as said... that's what Elvis liked to call it.
But you hated the title, the secrecy, and the bullshit commitment to only seeing him as a friend and nothing more.
Those were the rules he set, the rules he made sure were set in your head before he started this ongoing game of ... sneaking in your small bedroom every night just so he could seek for you to fill his pleasureful urges.
You spun at the sound of your window opening, book ready and weaponised in your hand as you waited with fearful breath for the unknown presence to reveal themself. "Elvis?" you muttered quietly, a scowl appearing on your face at the unexpected visitor.
as the sound of his name rolled off the tip of your tounge, the dark haired devil jumped , smacking his head into the rusted metal connected to the window, and scowling when you laughed.
"What are you doing? My parents are here!" You whispered loudly, fighting back the humourous grin on your face as he held his head in pain, a playful scowl still clear on his face. "I just wanna see my girl." Elvis muttered slowly, his scowl now replaced with a playful smirk as his feet lead him towards the bed where you body had been resting.
The boy placed himself on your floor, careful not to make too much noise so as not to cause suspicion from your parents down stairs.
"What happened to not sneaking around when my parents were here?" You voice laced sarcasm and annoyance, scoffing at Elvis as he sat on the floor near the end of your bed, right infront of where the upper half of your body was.
"They won't mind, just' oughta be quiet." his thick voice drawled out, placing a straight finger over your mouth before letting out a small "hush".
"Elvis, you know what would happen if my daddy saw you in here." You were basically begging him to not do anything stupid, the warning in your eyes evident. He chuckled lowly, nodding in an understanding manner before rising from the floor and walking towards your closed bedroom door.
"Your dad loves me, wouldn't lay a finger on me." Elvis placed his hand over his heart, hissing in fake pain, but the smile on his face showed the he was feeling nothing but pure humor and amusement.
"Even if he caught me wandering around in here." Elvis slowly began to turn the handle of your door, his mischievous smile growing wider just as the door opened wider. "he still wouldn't lay a finger on me." Elvis spoke in a volume above a whisper.
You quickly scrambled on your feet, as soon as you saw the hallway of your home, you were quick on your toes to shut the door. "Are you trying to get me killed!" You groaned out, pushing the taller boy away from the door and slamming the door with a bang.
"Come on, don't hold out on me. " Elvis cooed out, as your attempt in pushing the man away failed miserably so, he enveloped both of his calloused hands on your cheeks. "I've been good, all week just for you." he said in that dumbfounded tone he knew would make you fall to your knees everytime he used it, the same tone that had gotten you two in situations you would later regret the next day.
"Good as in completely acting as if I don't exist?" You lifted your eyes up to meet his, crossing your arms as a stern expression spread on your face.
"Y'know it's not like that, I just can't let the Colonel know that I gotta' girl." Elvis rasped, gracefully sliding his hands from your fleshed cheeks to your bare arms... you wished you could have opted for that grandma gown rather than the revealing slip dress.
You felt your skin prickle under his touch, his rough hands glding back and forth between your shoulder blades and elbows. "I know, it's just, i hate the sneaking around ." You words came out breathily.
"It'll only be a little 'while til I'll be able to show you off, show everyone your mine, yeah?" he nodded slowly, his thick accent drawing out as you pulley away from him with an slight irritated expression.
He relentlessly followed before letting out a sigh, his hand running through his greased jet black hair. You sat on the edge of your bed, looking at him with full of expectation.
"Let me make it up to you." He rasped out, nodding in an understanding manner as he lowered his eyes, seeking your face for any desperate form of confirmation. "My parents are downstairs." You reminded unsurely, but as soon as those unsure words left your mouth he shook his head.
"If you're nice and quiet, they won't hear a thing." He says in a readily way stays tall as he stands, his hands on your cheeks as you looked up in his direction with hungry eyes.
"lemme treat right, like you deserve, mama." he slowly whispered as sinked to his knees, seated right infront of you. his hand guided themselves towards your bare thighs, opening them... and giving him sight of where you needed him the most.
"elvis." you bit back, desperation and unsureness as you saw the way he kept his eyes on you with every inch he moved. " haven't even done anything, and you're already calling my name out." he chuckled cockily, gliding his hand gracefully between your parted thighs.
you hated how he cockily smirked as he felt the cloth that was basically with the juices that released everytime he spoke so dangerously, everytime he kept his eyes on you with the lustful waver, and everyone his fingertips touched you.
"Now, mama, tonight, I'm doin' everything in your favor. ." He whispered in a warm tone, pickpocketing the pink lace that had been on your body moments ago.
You shuddered at the new foreign feeling, his fingers lifting up the silk dress that rid up short. The new sensation of cold air hitting your upper thighs, and Elvis's new interest in making sure you were pleased. "I'll be real gentle, real nice." He nodded, sticking out two fingers before edging them towards your throbbing button.
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eddiesgorlie · 1 year
Text
Saturday Night Live
Austin x Reader
Summary: Austin’s girlfriend gets in some good laughs while watching SNL
Warnings: None:)
Word Count: 373 (Just something short and funny!)
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“Okay, you can’t laugh at me.” Austin said from the other side of the door. “I promise I won’t, baby.” I said, nervous for what I’d be laughing at. All I was aware of was that there would be a Jewish Elvis skit, Austin made sure to ask me, his Jewish girlfriend, if I would be offended if he took part in this skit, he’s amazing. I of course told him I would in no way be offended in anything he does. “You’re going to laugh at me.” He said with a sigh. “If you keep hiding, I definitely will!” I said with a laugh. “Fine.” He said opening the door. I had no words, absolutely zero. My boyfriend was currently standing in front of me with makeup on, a wig, glasses, a skirt, floral shirt and heels. “This is a zisater.” He said shaking his head, trying not to laugh. “What did you just say?” I asked. “I said-” He pulled his button up shirt open. “-Zhis iz a zisazter!” He said absolutely cracking up. “This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!” I said joining him in laughter. “I’m kind of scared of you honestly.” I said as I looked him up and down. “Now don’t you be scared of Ms. Lois.” He said in an accent. “Oh my gosh, stop! I’m going to cry laugh if you don’t stop.” I said sitting down on the couch. “Mr. Butler, we’re ready for you.” A stage manager said. “I’ll be right there.” Austin nodded. “I love you, do great!” I said, blowing him a kiss. “I love you, deary!” He said in that voice again. “Go away!” I said, laughing.
I watched the screen as he performed, as Lois said how horny she is and threw her underwear on the stage. I don’t even know how I made it through this alive.
Austin ran back in the room, out of breath, after the skit. “Are you okay?” He asked, seeing my tear streaked face. “Never better, that was the funniest thing you’ve ever done.” I said. “I’m glad you liked it.” He said smiling. “Go change, I can’t take you seriously.” I said with a laugh. “Right.” He said snapping his fingers.
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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year
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Fireside - A Pink Scarf Universe Story 💗🧣💗
A/N: Apparently, I am not able to stay too far away from our darlin' Reader and Elvis, no matter how hard I try! I just love them too much. So, here is a sexy little blurb taking place in February 1970. I hope you enjoy, and maybe if this gets enough likes and traction, I'll release more and grow the "Pink Scarf Universe" lol, who knows?
If you haven't read Pink Scarf, read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist (though honestly you could probably read this without knowing their story it just won't be as fun for you without the background info 😂).
I will also say this isn't as heavily edited and revised as PS, but hopefully it's still readable...
TW: MINORS DNI 18+ SEXX. PS Daddy E is back! The usual filth with these two. Fluff. A tinge of angst at the beginning. 😏
Word Count: 4.4k
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Fireside
Graceland, Late February 1970
Shivering as you make your way across the lawn, you pull your arms across your coat in tight, feeling a bit insolent and annoyed that you even have to trudge out here in the middle of the night. But Elvis had insisted, in that spontaneous way of his, that he must have a campfire tonight, of all nights, even though they all had just returned from his second engagement in Las Vegas and were all beat to hell with exhaustion. So, he and the guys had all tasked at building what you considered to be a too large and dangerous fire in out on the back lawn.
Perhaps you might be feeling more understanding if you hadn’t just spent two weeks away from him—the longest amount of time you’d been apart since August. You’d been sent home early after catching the monster flu that had been going around, which had turned quickly into a terrible bout of bronchitis. The desert air had done you no favors, and Elvis, along with the doctor, had sent you home to Memphis despite your protests. You were furious because Elvis, too, had caught the flu, but in that stubborn way of his had insisted on performing through it like an insane person.
“All these folks paid good money and flew in from all over to come see me, Satnin. I ain’t gonna disappoint them,” he’d said to you as you both coughed and raged with fever.
You were so mad he’d sent you home during your first engagement as one of his back-up singers that you were still stung by it. But you were also finding yourself increasingly needy for him along with your moodiness.
Which is why you find yourself out in the cold, sniffling, desperate for your fiancé to come inside and shower you with attention instead of living it up out in the cold with the guys he just spent a solid month with.
Your grumpiness is fueled as you approach the roaring flames and spot Elvis in his low Adirondack chair, laughing it up with the guys. You don’t like the feeling of jealousy that creeps over you at his attention being pulled away from you by these men. It’s silly, you know, just as you know it’s part of the package. Elvis’ light and charisma demands attention whether he means it to or not but having been away from him the past few weeks made you miss him in a way you haven’t felt before.
Part of you can’t escape how handsome he looks in the firelight, his smile wide and crinkling his lovely blue eyes. And that damn laugh of his is so contagious and musical that it almost—almost—pulls you out of your funk.
That tether between you has been pulled tight for too long and yanks you towards him out here in the cold. You stand over him sullenly for a moment until he raises those soulful eyes up to yours.
“Why ain’t you in bed, Satnin? You shouldn’t be out here. You’ll catch another chill,” Elvis says in what to him is a caring way yet to you feels almost dismissive. But he must see the needy look in your eyes and the tears brimming there because his voice softens and he adds, “Come ‘ere then,” and lifts the heavy blanket over his legs. A sense of deep relief falls over you as you slide sideways into his lap, throwing your legs across his, his warmth cocooning you. He pulls the heavy blanket up over you both and you snuggle into his chest.
Yes, this is what you need, you think, collapsing into him, his spicy familiar scent enveloping you, the heat of his body burning into yours. One arm circles around your back and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you ever closer. God, you missed this. You missed him. To think you spent so many years near him but without him… No wonder your brain concealed so much from you for so long—this yearning you feel is nearly unbearable and he is already yours.
You sigh into his neck, and he presses his chin down to look at you. “What’s wrong, baby?” he whispers in your ear, his hand slipping under your coat to rub comforting circles at your waist. His slender fingers are cold, but you don’t care in the least.
“Missed you,” is all you can eek out in your sensitive, tearful state, your hand clutching at the front of his coat.
“Aww, darlin’, I’m right here,” he says, kissing the top of your head, then pressing his fire-warmed cheek to your cool one.
You can’t help but pout, your mood worn from weeks of being sick and without him to comfort you. It’s not like you to act this way—for years you built a stoic shell around yourself to cope with Jack being gone all the time—but Elvis managed to break that shell into pieces last summer. Since then, you’ve found yourself feeling every little thing and unable to hide it from him. Perhaps it is because he is so finely tuned into you that he just knows when something is off, but you can’t seem to hide things from him even when you’ve tried.
“Mhm,” Elvis tuts in your ear, “you’re still sore that I sent you home, ain’tcha? I’m not gonna be sorry about that, honey. You were too sick and the doc was right—that Vegas air was doin’ you no good.” He shakes his head.
You huff stubbornly and bury your head into his long neck. Of course, logically, you know they were right to send you back, but you are still upset and not just about that. You can’t seem to voice exactly what you are mad about, only realizing that you are annoyed and sad and small and needy in a way you’ve never been before. And this overwhelm seems to steal your ability to express any of those emotions in words. You’re not sure what exactly you need, other than being as close as possible to the man you love.
“Oh, don’t you be obstinate, now,” Elvis warns quietly, the slightest edge of temper in his voice. Your only response is to cling to him harder, to nuzzle yourself further into the warmth that emanates off him.
He says nothing for a moment, staring into the fire, but you can sense the gears turning behind those pretty, worn eyes. Finally, he seems to come to some conclusion because his countenance shifts and he forces your chin out of his neck with his finger so he can look you in the eyes.
“Is all this because you need Daddy to take care of you?” he asks quietly, firmly. His voice is low and rumbles right down to your toes, the words setting every one of your nerves on fire along the way.
A whimper escapes your lips. You are suddenly grateful for the inky darkness of the winter’s night, at the heat of the fire, because they conceal the blush that suddenly blotches your cheeks as Elvis stares deeply into your eyes. The gaze has you squirming to get off his lap and you want to pull him into the house where you need him, but his large hands clamp down firm.
“Be still,” he commands sternly, but only loud enough for you to hear.
Your heart is galloping at the implication of those two little words.
“Now are ya gonna be a good, quiet little girl for me?” Elvis asks, his hand gripping your chin so you have to look at him. His face is the picture of controlled calm—it’s only the flames dancing in his darkening eyes that gives him away.
You hadn’t realized just how badly you needed him to take control until this very moment.
You manage to nod solemnly as all the blood in your body seems to rush into your core. You don’t know what he has in store for you, but the fact that he is not making any attempt to leave the company of the men surrounding you makes you nervous (and maybe a little intrigued).              
Elvis releases your chin and pulls the heavy blanket up over your shoulders, encouraging you to snuggle back into him by tightening his hand around your waist. The warm wool now covers you both from head to toe, and it is only then that you start to glean why that might be important.
You rest your head on his collarbone, waiting with bated breath, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart begin to quicken under your hand as you slip it into his coat. You’re unable to help the impulse to place a fluttering kiss at the pulse point on his elegant long neck, and his lip curls up in response. Before long, he begins drawing small circles with his fingertips up the inside of your thigh, and when reaching the hem of your dress, he slips under without compunction. You stiffen as he continues, unhurried, up, up, up until he reaches your panty line.
Your eyes widen and you wonder if Elvis is really going to do this with all the guys around. It’s bold, even for him, even with the blanket tenting and concealing his movements. A snake of apprehension in your gut is overrun by the thrill of the risk. The conversation around the fire flows on without either of you, and the crackle of the flames conceals a lot, and for that you are grateful.
The light brush of his fingers over the cotton of your panties makes you jump despite yourself, and in response, Elvis grips your waist hard, stilling you.
“Be good,” he orders through clenched teeth, “or I’m gonna stop and leave you to fend for yourself. Or maybe I oughta pull this blanket off and let the guys enjoy the show.” His lip quivers up slyly at that.
The threat stills you either way.
Elvis chuckles darkly. His fingers resume their teasing, dancing over the cotton at your core delightfully as you attempt to stay as still and quiet as possible. He is maddeningly patient, doing this until you can feel the throb of your pulse blossoming between your thighs, and it has you oh-so-quietly panting into his neck. But it’s not until he feels the fabric dampen under his touch that he finally slides his naughty, slender finger underneath, grazing through your slick and up to your sensitive bud, forcing you to bite down to keep from keening loudly.
Fuck, you’ve missed him.
By now, he knows how to play you like an instrument, his instrument, knowing exactly how much pressure to use as he circles your clit again and again, enough to get you sufficiently worked up. His casualness suggests he has all the time in the world while you’re sitting in his lap beginning to shudder from the pleasure coiling low in your belly.
Occasionally, he’ll stop, just to listen to your desperate breathlessness, your carnal wanting of him quelled by trying to be a quiet, good girl like you promised. A hint of a smirk plays on his face, making you want to crush your mouth to his or slap him for his teasing. Instead, you settle for clawing at his shirt.
The wetness that gathers between your legs has your panties soaked and sticking to you now, which might be embarrassing except for the fact that you are so damn needy for him, you couldn’t care less about your ruined underwear. Elvis discovers this fact as he finally dips lower, running the length of his finger back and forth through your sopping, swollen folds, taking his sweet damn time.
You tense. You are nearly ready to come undone just from his teasing, but you know that’s not what he wants. That’s not the game he’s playing. You raise your head from his chest just long enough to give him a pleading look.
He's doing a decent job of keeping his handsome features neutral, looking to a casual observer as though he is following the conversation around the fire and not driving you to madness under the blanket. But knowing him as you do, you can see the tiny giveaways that he, too, is flustered: the way his nostrils flare with his increased breathing rate, how his brilliant blues gleam with arousal, the way his plump lips part when he finally presses his middle finger deep into you.
Your wetness devours him readily. To hide the gasp and roaring flush on your cheeks, you pull the blanket up even farther. You clutch at his chest and your nails scrape his skin. After a few agonizing minutes, there’s no helping the instinct to grind your hips against his hand, wanting him deeper, wanting to consume him.
But while he smirks and is pleased with your desperation, he also will not relinquish control. He stills completely, one hand gripping your waist hard as a reminder of who is in charge. Your warm, wet heat clenches around his finger.
“Be good and stop squirmin’, little one,” he whispers low in your ear, “and maybe Daddy will keep finger fuckin’ you ‘till ya come.”
You stop moving but whine in response to those dirty words coming from his perfect pouty mouth—you just can’t help it—but it’s so quiet he can barely hear you. Your reward is another finger sliding deep into your heat. He picks up the pace in an unforgiving way. Gasping, you bite your lip when he curves those fingers just so, hitting that spot deep inside that is only his.
The blanket barely moves, and you have no idea what magic he is using to keep things so incognito, especially considering he naturally has so much energy that his limbs are usually vibrating uncontrollably. You still feel completely on display, though, especially when the pad of his thumb begins massaging your bud in time with his expert fingers pumping in and out of you.
I’m going to come undone, right here, in front of all the guys, you think in horror. You have no clue how you are going to keep quiet and still and good if that happens. Panic begins to build behind your arousal because you just know that coil is going to burst and you’ll cry out in ecstasy any second now (but a dark part of you is even more aroused by the scandalous nature of it all).
Elvis must sense the change in you because he edges you right up to the point of no return but not over. He halts his ministrations. You clutch desperately at his expensive shirt, certain you are going to shred it to pieces by the time this little game of his is through. Your heart pounds hard and fast against your ribcage, in time with his, and you wait to see what he has in store for you next. Because even though a part of you is embarrassed by this game, you are drinking in every drop of attention, relishing his command over you, needy for every morsel he deems to give you.
He’s considering his next move, you think, by the way his eyes narrow slightly and his grip on you shifts. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you almost moan for the loss of them, but catch yourself at the last second. Brazenly, he wipes his sticky fingers down your inner thigh, his eyes dancing with amusement as he does so.
You gape at him. He can’t be finished, you think dismally. He can’t leave me like this.
No, you don’t think so, not with the way you can feel his hardened length pressing into your hamstring.
He kisses your temple sweetly. “Now listen carefully, little girl: Imma need you to shift onto one of Daddy’s legs for a second. Nice and slow now, don’t call attention to it. And hold those ruined panties of yours to the side. I wanna feel that pretty little kitty weepin’ for me,” he rumbles in your ear.
Oh my goddd... The urge to moan long and loud fills you but you just nod instead.
You follow his directions and move your weight so one of his lean, muscled thighs is between yours. The rough fabric of his pants scrapes your bare pussy as he bounces his leg a few times, sending a cascaded of shivers into your belly. His pants will need to be dry cleaned for the soaking spot you’re leaving there, and part of you feels a sense of pride to be marking him in such a way. Mine.
Holding the blanket up to your shoulders dutifully, you stare at the golden flames licking into the air in front of you. No one seems to notice or care that you have shifted.
That’s when you feel it. The slow, deliberate way he undoes his belt, the ticking of his zipper. You blush furiously, then feel the spring of his heavy cock being released. Before you can react, he unceremoniously and quickly lifts you fully onto his lap, lining you up then impaling you down upon his length.
You cover your surprise and choke with a cough—not unusual considering you’re still recovering from bronchitis. Thank god you are as wet as you are because, even so, it’s a damn tight fit with him having been away these past few weeks. You have to keep yourself from rolling your eyes into the back of your head because he’s finally filling you the way you need him to.
Yes, this is what you wanted. This is what you needed. You just didn’t expect it to be in front of all his (albeit unaware) friends.
By the way Elvis grips your waist and from the soft grunt that escapes him, you know he’s struggling to contain his own reaction to your heat, despite the air of control he’s been exuding. He adjusts you how he wants you: leaning your back over his chest, your legs draped over his, his chin resting on your shoulder. With the way the seat of the chair tips down to the ground and with blanket pulled all the way up, nothing looks amiss.
You close your eyes and sigh, relishing the feel of him stretching you, his cock buried deliciously deep inside you. He envelops you in his arms, one under your breasts, the other at your lower belly. His warmth burns into your back, but he does not let you move. Those wiry but strong arms have effectively pinned you to him. Almost frantic, you try for some semblance of friction, anything at all to ease the tension, but he just chuckles at your near-silent gasps, holding you fast against him.
Finally, once you relent and relax, Elvis swivels his hips, again and again, in a slow rhythm not unlike one monumentally famous performance on TV in the beginning of his career, the one that sent the church ladies off their rockers and the teenage girls fainting. Suddenly, you want to giggle at the fact that his damn hips resulted in both his skyrocketing career and in his censorship because those same hips have certainly become even more skilled in the many years between then and now, but for different, more scandalous reasons. Maybe those church ladies had a point, after all, you laugh quietly. And it causes you to clench around his cock.
Then you hear a low growl in your ear: “What a dirty little girl you are, letting Daddy take you like this in front of all these men. Bein’ so good for me. You like this, baby girl?” Each statement is accentuated with a shallow but pointed roll of his pelvis.
You bite your lip, nodding. His dirty talk has molten heat flooding down your limbs and directly into your cunt. With the warmth of the roaring fire coupled with the passioned heat at your back, your arousal grows with each small movement, each scandalous word, and has you feeling like you might combust before this is all said and done.
So desperately do you want to ride him within an inch of his life, but he won’t allow it. No, this is his show, and you give into him, fully resting back onto his chest. He rewards you by finding your clit again, massaging it in slow time with his barely moving cock. The result is both torturous and delectable, working you into such a state that you dig your nails so hard into his clothed thighs that he hisses.  
“Fuck, little one, you feel so good,” Elvis breathes jaggedly into your ear. He presses a hand to your lower belly, then rolls his hips up. In this position, he’s big enough that you both can feel him there. “Takin’ my cock so well.”
You do your level best not to mewl, to stay quiet for him. Instead, your breathing pants through your nostrils and you try to keep your wits about you, trying to stay good as he fucks you so slowly within an inch of your life. Fucks you with all the guys around, who seem none the wiser.
He must feel you begin to flutter around him, your climax drawing ever closer. You feel like you’re about to burst because you need to scream, to moan out his name, do something that will let you release this pressure, but you tamp it all down as far as you can.
“Daddy’s gonna make you come now, sweetheart,” he purrs.
“N-not h-here,” you breathe out, panicked, knowing you can’t hold on much longer.
“Yes, here,” he chastises. “Right in front of ev’rybody. You’re gonna come so hard, baby, cuz Daddy treats you right, doesn’t he?”
You almost sob at that and nod, that coil poised to explode at any moment.
“But you’re gonna be good and so, so quiet cuz it’s just for me baby. You ain’t gonna cry out or move a muscle, okay?” he whispers and though he’s commanding, you know he’s close to losing control himself by how labored his breath is and how tightly he’s holding you.
You nod, and he flicks your clit with expert, rapid precision. “Now, lil’ one. Come now.”
That’s all you need. Quite suddenly, you are consumed by fire as hot as the one blazing in front of you. Your body tenses, then shudders violently in his lap and he holds you to him as you careen over the edge, lost to the dark night. It takes every ounce of self-control in you to not cry out, resulting instead in your huffed breaths. Long nails bite into his arms, clamoring for some outlet for your pleasure. Your eyes close, stars dancing behind them. Your walls clench and flutter around his length and you feel his slow rhythm begin to stutter.                                                        
“Fuck, baby, Jesus fuck, so good for m-me. Daddy’s gonna fill y-you up now. All mine. Aw, h-hell.” He pulses inside you, covering his own orgasm by biting deep into your shoulder, so hard you can feel it through the heavy winter coat you’re wearing. His thick, hot arousal throbs and coats your insides and you ride him through it with the tiniest rocking of your hips, feeling lighter than air but also grounded by him.
That’s what life with Elvis is like, you think. He grounds you to him, to his orbit, and sends you both shooting to the moon and the stars.  
Completely blissed out and spent, you fall into him, and he slumps back in the chair. As you come back down to Earth, you feel your breathing sync with his. You close your eyes and revel in the wonderful way he’s made you feel, this man you are so wildly in love with.
You’re no longer upset.
You’re just glad to be back in his arms.
Elvis nudges you and you realize you may have dosed off, as he is now soft inside you and the fire has dimmed some.
“I think you made quite the mess, lil’ mama,” he whispers, nipping at your ear.
Indeed. You can feel the cool pooling of your collective arousal coating you and his lap.
“I made the mess, huh?” you whisper back with a roll of your eyes.
“Oh, most definitely.” You can feel his boyish grin as he kisses your neck.
“Sure. And how exactly are we supposed to get back in the house without everyone knowing we had sex in front of them?”
He pauses and then you can feel the vibration of his chest as he starts to chuckle, that way he gets just before he has a laughing fit.
“Oh, don’t you dare start, E,” you warn. It’s contagious, of course, and you feel your own laughter bubbling. “You didn’t think this all the way through, did you, love?” you shake your head.
“That’s what I have you for!” he laughs.
“Well, I guess we’re just gonna have to sit here and simmer in our juices until everyone decides to go to bed, now won’t we?” you try to whisper sternly, but giggles escape at the complete ridiculousness of the situation.
“Not in our juices!” he cries with laughter. He’s completely beside himself, pressing his forehead into your back in an effort to hide his amusement.
“What was that, EP? Thought you both fell asleep over there,” Lamar says.
“N-nothing!” Elvis hiccups. “Just go about your business! Y’all must be getting’ tired, right? Time to go inside! Time for bed!” He flails his arms in the general direction of the house.
You are both trying, quite unsuccessfully, to hold back your laughter, and the guys are looking at you two like you’ve grown horns.
“Um, sure, EP? I guess it is getting late,” Charlie throws out.
Quizzical, the guys grumble a bit and begin to mosey their way towards the house.
“You comin’?” Lamar shouts.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it! We’ll get there!” Elvis calls, shooing him away, then dissolves into another peal of breathless laughter.  
“Okay, Crazy,” Lamar mumbles.
Elvis is sniffling and snorting by now. Your face is red and tears poke at the corners because the more he laughs, the more you laugh.
“I love you, Satnin,” he says, kissing your cheek gently once everyone is gone and your giggles have subsided.
“I love you, too, baby boy.” You press your forehead to his. “Now please tell me you have a handkerchief or something cuz otherwise you’re gonna need to wear this blanket around your waist to get inside.
“Anything for you, baby, anything for you,” Elvis says, holding back another peal of laughter.
And you know it’s true.
*
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