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wheredafandomat · 7 months

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Blood Lust

Written by @wheredafandomat and @simplyholl 🖤

Welcome to Whore-O-Ween everyone!!

Summary: You're sent to live with Father Laufeyson who is known for his work with wayward young ladies. But all is not as it seems.

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Blasphemy. Loki going down on you while you're bleeding. Loss of virginity. Masturbation. Voyeurism.

W/C: 3K

Part of the Whore-O-Ween Spooktacular

The glow of the candlelight flickered. You stood to place another log on the fire. You were locked in your room for the third time this week. Since you had come of age, the young men of the village had taken notice of you.

Now you were twenty years old, and your family was desperate to marry you off. But you had gained a reputation among the village. You were to marry the innkeeper’s son, Jonathon. But his family broke the engagement once word got to them.

You had been seen with two men alone. This was all so silly. You had never even been kissed. You were saving everything for your husband, like any devout girl would.

Your father walked in, taking the wood from you, and placing it on the dying flames. “Daughter, you know there has been talk of your sins around the village. I cannot wed you to any of the young men. Even old Mr. Smith wouldn’t accept my offer for your hand.”

Your breakfast threatened to come back up at the mention of him. He was a strange, bald man who lived a few houses down. His wife had died of influenza years ago, and he never remarried.

“Harvey told me about a priest who takes in young girls who find themselves in trouble. He will pray over you and reform you until you are ready to come home. He lives two towns over. His name is Father Laufeyson. I sent him a letter asking him to take you. His reply came this morning, and he agreed. Pack your belongings. We will make the journey when the sun rises tomorrow.”

When you arrive, you notice Father Laufeyson’s house looks more like a castle from your storybooks than the cottages you were used to. That’s probably why it was tucked away far into the woods, away from the other houses.

Two people stood outside the large house waiting for you. One was Father Laufeyson. The first thing you notice is how handsome he is. You blush, God forgive me for thinking inappropriately, especially about a man of the cloth you silently pray.

The other was a tall brunette woman. She appeared to be a few years older than you. She beamed, walking toward you. She pulls you in for a hug, “I’m Esther.” You introduce yourself, returning the hug. She takes your hand, leading you into your new home.

That night at dinner, the three of you talked like old friends. You were starving, you notice Father Laufeyson doesn’t eat much. He just sips his red wine, listening to you and Esther chatter.

The following morning you change into your best church dress, meeting him and Esther downstairs. You and Esther take a seat in the front of the church. You look at the congregation, taking note that it’s mostly women. How unusual you thought.

Where were their husbands, brothers, and fathers? You shrug it off. Church was the only place a lady could go without the company of a man. You carefully watch Father Laufeyson as he begins the service.

There was something off about him, but you couldn’t place it. It could be that you were attracted to him. That had to be it. The priest in your village was old when you were born. You just weren’t used to priests being this young. After church, he took you and Esther on a picnic for lunch. You two ate the delicious sandwiches he prepared, but he refused saying he wasn’t hungry.

You had free reign of the house except for Father Laufeyson’s room. All three of you had rooms on the same floor. Yours and Esther’s were beside each other, making it easy for late night talks. His was down the hall.

It had been four weeks since you first arrived. You liked it better with each passing day. You could take walks along the property. You could read all day, if you liked. He had quite the extensive library.

You wake up in the middle of the night when you hear Esther cry out. You leave your room, candle in hand walking toward the noise. You stop at Father Laufeyson’s room. The door is ajar just enough to peek inside. You see Esther against the wall, head thrown back in ecstasy, legs wrapped around his waist. He thrusts up into her. You gasp, covering your mouth when he looks toward the door.

You know you should leave, but you stay glued to your spot, never taking your innocent eyes off of them. Esther moans when his hand moves between them under her dress. He gathers her hair off her neck, pale face leaning down toward her.

The candlelight in his room shines on his face, putting a spotlight on his long fangs sinking into the side of her neck. He feeds on her slowly as she slumps in his arms. You press your hand harder to your mouth to stifle your cries. Tears streak down your face as you run back to your room.

You had heard about vampires before. Your village and the surrounding ones were once overrun with them. The pale beasts were all destroyed. But here you are living with one who disguised himself as a man of God.

You keep replaying what you saw over and over. He bit Esther, but she seemed to be enjoying it. You feel an unfamiliar ache between your legs from thinking about it. You run your hand up your thigh to your core. You were most likely going to die by the hands of the handsome vampire. You might as well experience a little pleasure before you do. You would beg for God’s forgiveness later. Your fingers swipe through your untouched folds, taking the slick arousal to your clit.

You move clumsily, hesitating at first. Then you imagine Father Laufeyson holding you against that wall, his teeth on your neck. You shake as your very first orgasm hits you. The following morning, it’s just you and the fake priest. “Father, where is Esther? Is she unwell?” You ask him, studying his face for a change in demeanor.

“She’s well. Her family came back for her before daylight. She went to your room to tell you goodbye, but you were sleeping so soundly, she didn’t want to wake you.” You put on your best fake smile. Esther was dead, and the beast before you killed her. You tried to avoid him as much as possible in the following days.

But you had to dine with him, even if he didn’t eat. You still had to attend church with him. Other than that, you stayed hidden in your room. You were terrified of him, but that didn’t stop you from fantasizing about him. You spent your nights with your hand under your nightgown or humping your pillow thinking of him.

It was shameful, but you couldn’t stop. You felt so guilty after making yourself cum twice in one night, you got down on your knees, praying for forgiveness, begging for it. That night, you dreamt that you drove a stake through his heart, ending this misery. You took it as a sign from God. This is what you were meant to do.

Father Laufeyson took you into town. You waited until he went into the store, and you walked to the woodworker’s shop. You commissioned an oak stake. They looked at you like you had lost your mind. They told you the last of the vampires had been destroyed long ago. But the coins Laufeyson gave you put food on the table for their families.

You had to wait three long weeks before he took you into town again. When you got the chance, you went to retrieve the weapon. That night, you decided it was time. You couldn’t live with him anymore, not after knowing what he is. You had to fulfill your purpose. You knew he was at the church preparing his sermon for the next morning. You ran the whole way there, heart racing.

You stepped inside cautiously, trying to ignore the chill of the air telling you to turn back around, to run away. But you couldn’t. Your feet carried you forward, surprisingly confident, unlike yourself. Confidence, that’s what you needed, what you tried to embody, that was your protection against the pale beast.

You flinched as a jolt of lightning shone through the church, lighting everything in a quick spark of chrome before you were in darkness again, except for a few candles. You knew you had to act as if nothing was wrong, as if you didn’t know. Survival was only guaranteed that way.

“Y/N.” You took a deep breath hearing your name fall from his lips in a honeyed utterance. “Father.” You greeted him, the faux priest, as you stepped towards him. “Come, child.” He gestured to the organ, prompting you to follow him. “Sit.” You fought to keep your breathing steady as you approached him, biting your lip to stop it from trembling as you observed him.

You were told that his kind would perish in a place like this, that they would burn. But here he was making a mockery of God, wearing an idle collar and parading around untouchable. But not after tonight. Many times, you had shared this seat with him, ignoring the cold that his presence brought, ignoring the call to sin when he looked at you, emerald green eyes boring into yours.

Tonight was different, you couldn’t relax. “What ails you?” He questioned, lifting his hand and stroking a key with one of his dexterous fingers. “I believe I may have found my calling.” You answered, taking a deep breath as you raised one of your fingers onto the keys. “Your calling” He repeated almost questioningly. “Other than to serve your god?” My God?” “God.” He corrected. “Yes, I believe he has asked me to serve Him in another way.” You continued, both of you gently playing a familiar tune.

“Pray tell, what is this other way? What is this newfound calling?” “I must protect this Earth.” You stated, using your free hand to clutch the weapon in your pocket. “From what?” He questioned, turning to look at you with a small smirk. “From me?” “What?” You gasped, trying to keep your breaths even. “Do you really think a piece of oak would be enough to stop me?” He snickered.

“I mean honestly” He continued, leaning towards you, his mouth dangerously close to your neck as you froze. “You underestimate me.” He noted coyly, reaching around you, grabbing the cross stake from your other hand. “No!” You cry, still frozen in fear as he threw it across the room. “On the contrary, I do believe you have another calling.” He stated, standing before stepping behind you.

“A more carnal one.” He continued; his voice sharp in your ear as he leaned over you. “I mean you serve a man no more virtuous than yourself” He paused as you gasped. “I’ve read the books.” He cut you off. “You serve a man no more virtuous than yourself, yet you reap no rewards.”

“I will be rewarded with an eternity in His kingdom.” You spat. “How about a night in mine?” He smirked against your ear, causing you to spin around. “You’d never admit it, but you’ve sinned more than me.” “Don’t you dare say that!” “You think I don’t know you touch yourself thinking about me, yearning for me, even after you found out exactly who I am, what I am?”

“S-stop.” You stuttered. “Grinding against your pillow, moaning my name. Oh! It’s music to my ears.” He cheered. “I’m offering you a night of sin, a night with me.” He proclaimed. “I won’t judge you. I welcome your debauchery. I’ll cherish your moans. I’ll reward your praise.” “St-stop it.” You continued to stutter, clenching your thighs together.

“Burn with me, Y/N, just for tonight.” He whispered, leaning closer to you, his lips brushing against yours as you close your eyes. “I’ve never been touched.” You emitted nervously; eyes still closed. “I know, but you want to be. It’s what you have spent so long desiring.” He spoke against your lips, one of his hands ghosting down your body as your breath hitched.

He didn’t have to push your legs apart; they were already gapped from your quick spin around. You inhaled sharply as you felt him cup your sex, eyes opening to find him staring into yours. “Is this where you touch yourself when you think about me?” He smirked, his hand moving up and down, massaging against your clothed heat.

“Rubbing yourself, imagining me, my hand, my body until you reach there, that sweet release.” He almost cooed, his hand more pressured now. You tried to stave away the temptation of bucking your hips into his touch, but it was hard. It felt too good. You wanted more. You needed more. You needed him to do what he did to Esther. “Tell me what you desire, and I’ll do it.” “Take it.” You answered almost breathlessly. “It?”

“My purity, take it.” “That’s my girl.” He purred in your ear again, before his free hand gripped your chin, pulling you into a deep kiss. His tongue pushed passed yours, exploring your mouth. His other hand was still between your legs, your hips thrusting into his touch.

Now that his lips were properly on yours, you realized how cold they were, how gelid. Your hands reached upwards, cupping his cheeks which were no warmer than his lips. You tried to stay silent, but you couldn’t, not when you felt his hand slipping underneath your skirt, fingers smoothing over the cloth material of your panties.

“Father!” You gasped as two of his fingers pushed your underwear to the side, meeting your clit. “Loki.” He corrected. “Loki” you moaned, eyes closing as he drew languid circles over your clit. “You virgins are so receptive.” He sniggered. “You’re already so wet for me.” His name fell from your lips again as he continued his movements, his fingers growing slick from your arousal. Lost in the pleasure, you almost didn’t realize that his fingers were venturing lower down your center.

Your eyes flew open, feeling him enter you slowly. “L-Loki” You stuttered feeling full. “Do you like that?” He asked, leisurely pumping his fingers in and out of you. “Yesss” You hum in response, drowning in the sensation. You felt overwhelmed, you were wetter than you’ve ever been.

Small moans escaped you as Loki continued thrusting his fingers inside of you. A metallic scent evaded your nose. As if he could smell it too, Loki stopped his movements causing you to open your eyes, only for them to round in surprise at the sight of his fingers. They were practically glistening crimson. You barely had time to react before Loki was bringing them to his lips, licking off the blood.

“What’s happening?” You panicked, despite not being in any pain. “It’s normal.” Loki answered, releasing his index finger with a pop. The remembrance of what he was overcame you as a blanket of guilt shrouded you. You didn’t feel good anymore. Before Loki could continue, you began closing your legs wanting to leave. You wanted to forget about all of this, but instead you yelped, feeling him grab one of your legs and pushing them further apart as he got to his knees. He slid your panties off your legs, discarding them on the floor.

“One can’t prepare a feast and expect others not to dine.” He spoke cryptically before you felt his cold, wet tongue against your core lapping up the blood dripping from you. Your hands flew to his hair, gripping it tightly as he entered you with his tongue, washing any hesitation away. You couldn’t help but scream in pleasure at the feeling of his nose rubbing your clit as he feasted on you.

“Delicious.” He spoke against you as you shamelessly ground your hips against his face. You were overcome with delectation despite the fact that this was more than just a carnal encounter. “I need you, Loki.” You finally implored, interrupting Loki’s banquet. Glancing up at you, he lifted his head from between your legs, licking his lips clean as he lowered your leg. His hand found yours as he prompted you to join him on the floor.

You did so, wordlessly straddling him like you imagined so many nights alone with your pillow. He felt good underneath you, like it was where he belonged. Your bare sex rubbed against his clothes as you readjusted yourself, Loki looking up into your eyes. “Is this how you want me to take you?” He spoke, breaking the silence. “Yes.” You replied, trying to quell your nervousness. Loki didn’t talk as he unsheathed himself before guiding you above his manhood.

He watched your expression as he thrusted up into you, his hands on your hips pushing you down against him. You couldn’t help your moans as he filled you, burying himself inside you. You move your hips against his, living out your fantasy. You found yourself growing closer to the end, to your release, to his demise. He was obviously moving slower for you, you had watched him move a lot faster for Esther, and for that you’d make sure you were as quick as you could be.

Leaning down against him, your lips almost brushed his again as you reached out, your fingers wrapping around the discarded stake. Loki was right, it was oak. Well, most of it. What he didn’t know was that the tip was willow, lethal. “You feel so good, so pure.” Loki groaned from beneath you, gripping your hips tightly as you sat back up.

His eyes were closed, that’s how he didn’t see it, how he didn’t know he was in danger. You continued grinding your hips against his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you neared your climax. Walls tightly gripping Loki’s length, you raise your hand before plunging the stake into his chest.

Loki’s eyes flew open, the betrayal evident on his features as his life slipped away. You felt powerful, immensely so, as you took his life, draining him, milking him. You moaned as your climax shook you. This was it; this was your calling.

Tags 🖤

@lokischambermaid @gruftiela @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @itsybitchylittlewitchy @wolfsmom1 @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @buttercupcookies-blog @lokisgoodgirl @donaweasley @muddyorbsblr @litaloni @lovingchoices14 @mochie85 @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @glitchquake @goblingirlsarah @multifandom-worlds @kats72 @eleniblue @mischief2sarawr @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @fictive-sl0th @marygoddessofmischief @lulubelle814 @evelyn-rathmore @lokiestorch @ladymischief11 @valarieravenhearst1 @cakesandtom @monkey0105 @dj-murasaki @ririsutty73 @cindylynn @violethaze @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #loki fanfiction #tom hiddelston loki #loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagines #whore-o-ween #loki x you smut #loki au fic #loki au #halloween fic #Loki

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thatbanditqueen · 6 months

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Bless Your Heart

An Elvis-o-Ween One Shot

A response to the month-long writing prompt for Halloween/Fall

Summary: It's 1957, and Jan's dreams come true when she gets invited up from the gate to join Elvis' parties at Graceland. But not all that glitters is gold, and this new social circle may have a few angels and demons among them.

Warnings: No real smut, suggestions of sex, but there is a teensy bit of scary gore at the end.... so no minors and be forewarned. This was a new experience for me, I easily could have written about Elvis romancing ghost girlies all month, but I wanted to challenge myself. Not sure if it worked but... here goes nothing.

You can check out last week's Elvis-o-ween here:

Little Blue Toes

WC: 6.8 K

6:05 p.m. Thursday, September 19, 1957

Graceland, Memphis TN

The evening sun was slowly turning red when Jan hopped off the bus, and it burned orange circles into the back of her eyelids. She shook them away, distractedly nodding at the driver as she turned her attention to the crowd down the block. The rolling hills of Whitehaven were still a deep green in the fall, but Jan hardly noticed and clutched her purse as she got closer to the gate. She tried not to be too obvious as she craned her head to see Graceland from the back of the crowd. It looked smaller than she had expected, a grey matchbox on a hill in the dusky twilight. Jan told herself that she would have to come back on the weekend, now that she knew how easy it was to get here. Now that she knew, after reading that article in the newspaper, that his fans regularly gathered in front of the house. She could plan her trip out better than she had today. After reading the newspaper at lunch, she had impulsively jumped on the bus to Whitehaven after work. Feeling a pebble in her shoe, she was gracefully trying to hop on one foot and shake it out when two shadows loomed over her.

“See, told you it wasn’t Susie. She’s too dressed up.”

Jan squinted up at the girls in front of her.

“No, uh, not Susie.” She straightened her skirt and hesitantly stuck her hand out, grateful for the excuse to talk to someone. “Jan.”

“Heidi.” The blonde announced and tilted to the shorter brunette next to her. “And Arlene.”

“Y’all regulars?”

“Oh yeah, we come here all the time.” Arlene gushed. “We’re just waiting for him to finish breakfast and give Travis the signal.”

Jan looked through the white wrought iron gate up at house.

“What do you mean, wake up and give Travis the signal?”

“Oh, well, he sleeps through the day. Has breakfast round 4 or 5. Sometimes he’ll come sign autographs at the gate, but -” Arlene leaned in toward Jan and her eyes twinkled. “Uh, well, when he’s in town he likes us to be here in case he wants to have some people up for a party. He has parties most nights. We’re kind of in his gang - OW.” Arlene grabbed her rib cage and hit Heidi back. “Hey, what gives?”

“You shouldn’t be bragging, Arlene, cuz we can't bring her with us and now she’ll feel left out.”

Jan smiled politely, and tugged at the pearl button on her white, linen gloves. “It’s ok - I gotta catch the last bus back home anyway.”

Jan wanted to ask the girls what Elvis was really like in-person. Before she could, though, a loud gasp filled the air and she was pushed into them as the crowd jostled closer to the gates. A tall dark figure strode down the drive dressed all in white. White dress shirt, white sport’s coat, white pants. He looked like an angel. Jan was absolutely mesmerizing and dropped her purse watching his hair flop up and down with each bounce of his white loafers. The kids around her shouted out “Hey Elvis” and cheered, but she couldn’t say a thing. She could barely breathe as her tummy flip flopped watching his mouth form into a crooked grin. She vaguely heard the other girls chatting next to her.

“I wonder if Anita Wood is up there?”

“Nah, she’s down in New Orleans at a beauty pageant, he told me last night.”

“You’re so lucky you don’t have a mom who treats you like a child, Arlene. What I wouldn’t give to stay until 2 or 3.”

The gates opened, and Jan ended up right behind Arlene and Heidi in the semi-circle around Elvis. No one pushed or prodded to tried to sneak past the guard house. It was all very civilized, and a jovial atmosphere percolated between the open gates as Elvis went from person to person, signing memorabilia and teasing the folks he met. When he made it to Arlene, Jan watched in awe as he drew her to him and pecked her sweetly on the ear, asking if she brought him his favorite cigars like she said she would. Jan would give anything to be in his gang. She would bring him all the cigars and if it meant he would hug her and kiss her and tease her too. But when his blue eyes flitted over to her, she found that her mouth had gone completely dry and she couldn’t say a word.

“Who’s ya friend with the big brown eyes?”

“Oh, that’s Jan. It’s her first time here.”

Elvis’ smirk deepened. “Cat got ya tongue?” He winked, kissing the top of Jan’s glove. “S’ok, honey. I don’t bite.” Then his teeth grazed over her knuckle. “Much.”

Jan felt the air hitch in her throat at the way he looked at her from under his eyelids. She no longer needed her hand. He could have it. He could have anything he wanted.

Elvis chuckled. “Why, you’re as shy as a mouse. Got anything for me to sign, lil mousy?”

Jan stuttered and fumbled about in her purse for something, handing Elvis the first thing she found. Her sweaty, monogrammed handkerchief.

“I didn’t know I was coming today.” She whispered slowly, and her voice trailed off as she watched Elvis wipe his forehead with her hankie and pocket it with a wink.

“S’ok, lil gal, bring something tomorrow.” Then he whispered into Arlene’s ear and moved on through the crowd.

Arlene snaked her hand through Jan’s arm and led her toward the house. “Elvis wants you to come up to the party with us.”

Jan squeezed Arlene with a giggle, smoothing her hand over her skirt as they walked. The house got bigger and bigger as they strode up the drive and Jan realized that the round curve of the hill created an optical illusion that made it look small from the road. But now she found herself in front of a grand, Neo-colonial mansion. Large, white columns flanked the front of the house, and two white marble lions stood guard at the entrance way. It was like standing in front of a magical castle. Jan felt that she ought to be wearing a silk, red evening gown instead of her belted navy shirt dress.

They did not enter the front door. Instead, Arlene led Jan around the front of the house towards the sound of music playing and people laughing on a patio surrounding a large, shimmering pool. There was a gay crowd of young people drinking pop and mingling around. Heidi adopted a hushed, intimate tone as she pointed out the others in the gang.

“That’s Lamar, he’s always eager to please Elvis and does anything he asks - and so is Alan - the shorter stout one. That skinny little creep is Gene, and that’s Mack, he usually drives us home. The guy next to him is Richard and that’s Frances, our friend, I’m not sure how she already got up here - “

“- is she going with Elvis?”

Arlene chimed in. “Well, he’s seeing a few girls. There’s a singer, Anita, who he steps out with pretty regularly. But me, Heidi and Frances, we’re just his friends. EP is a very physical person. Likes to love on all the gals. That’s just the warm, sweet kinda guy he is. Sometimes he’ll pull me on his lap, and give me a little kiss.”

“Lucky girl.” Jan murmured.

“Mmm.” Arlene answered. “I’d rather be friends with him than date him.”

“Really? Why’s that? Don’t you find him attractive?”

“Of course, Elvis is the most!” Heidi looked at Jan as if she had questioned the existence of gravity. “But, well, once he goes all the way with a gal, he almost never wants to see her again. His dates come and go. But his friends, well, we’re forever.” Heidi exchanged a knowing glance with Arlene.

“Like Susie.”

Heidi clicked her tongue. “Pretty sure Anita’s got her knees sewn shut til she gets a wedding ring.”

“Well, I keep my knees shut too.” Arlene interjected. “I don’t even know why any girl would want to go to bed with Elvis when they can kiss him as much as they want. There couldn’t be anything better than kissing Elvis.”

Jan raised her eye brow, thinking of a hundred other things that she could imagine doing with Elvis. But she kept them to herself and smiled, hanging back to straighten the lines on her hose as the girls joined the party. She had just finished putting the right leg in place when she looked between her legs to find Elvis watching her. His cheeks flushed, and he bite his lip before walking over. All Jan could do was sigh as he grabbed her by the waist and introducing her to everyone around the pool. His guests, his housekeeper, Alberta, and then his mother who was just about to go inside. Mrs. Presley hugged Jan tightly and thanked her for coming to visit them, adding in a high, chipper voice.

“I’m so glad my baby is making friends like you, I can tell you have a kind heart, Janice. I really can.”

“Nice of you to say, Mrs. Presley ma’am. I like to think I have kind heart.”

“What’s this about a sweet lil ol’ heart?”

The two women turned to find a petite blonde in the doorway behind them.

“Oh Anita.” Mrs. Presley took the blonde’s hand. “I was just saying to Jan here, how glad I am to know her. She is a good, sweet girl. I’m so glad you get to meet her, I thought you were out of town. Can I get you some food.”

The blonde smiled and licked her teeth, her blue eyes looked Jan over with a cool smile. “Thank you ever so, Mrs. Presley, but I just ate and I’m fit to bust if I swallow another morsel.”

Mrs. Presley smiled. “Well, I just know you two will be thick as thieves. Be good little babies.” She hugged them together tightly once more before saying good night.

Jan could not stop herself from staring at Anita. Her platinum blonde hair shone in the silver light and her short, busty figure filled out a tight, pink wiggle dress. Her creamy white skin was so radiant Jan would have sworn it was glowing and the contrast made her luscious red lips stand out all the more. Some of Anita’s red lipstick had smudged around her mouth and on her front teeth, and Jan pointed to her own mouth to mime helpfully.

“Why, bless ya heart, you really are the sweetest thang looking out for me. And you’re so pretty too. I could just eat ya up!” Anita squealed as she pulled out a compact and fixed her lipstick. “I cain’t tell you how many other girls would just let me walk around looking like a fool all night.”

“They’re probably jealous, I, uh, heard you’re Elvis’ girlfriend.”

Anita pursed her lips in a tight smile. “Sometimes I think everyone knows that ’cept him. Excuse me.”

Jan walked back over to where Arlene and some of the other girls were huddled around a bucket of pop watching Anita stomp over to where Elvis stood with his arm around a cute redhead while Lamar told stories about the drive home from LA.

Arlene handed Jan a Dr. Pepper. “I see you met Anita, I could have sworn she was supposed to be at a beauty pageant in New Orleans.”

“Look, I think she’s had her nose done.” Heidi gasped. “Or, well, something is different - she looks prettier than the last time I saw her. I wonder if there even was a beauty pageant. Maybe her plastic surgeon is in New Orleans.”

Jan looked at Heidi as she spoke. “You don’t like her very much, huh?”

“She’s too possessive, and she tries to chase us off. You should have seen her trying to convince Arlene that she should go back to Chicago.” Heidi kicked the pavement with her saddle shoe. “Too bad for her, Elvis wants us here. And I plan to hang around as long as I can.”

Just then, the record changed on the jukebox and The Five Satins song. “In the Still of the Night” began to play. Jan looked over and blushed when Elvis caught her eye staring at him. Yes, I plan to stick around as long as I can too, she thought to herself, looking down at her feet. The mischievous way Elvis raised his eyebrows at her made her feel funny and she couldn’t handle looking at him for too long without grinning like a mad woman.

The night went on and Jan’s whole body tingled from the heady mix of music, moonlight and raw, unadulterated exposure to Elvis under the stars at Graceland. Sitting out in the cool night air, caught between the twinkling night sky and the glimmering pool, Jan felt as though she had finally arrived. The evening had turned out to be more magical than she could ever have imagined. She hated to pull herself away, but she gave in at midnight and went to call a cab.

The kitchen was dim this late at night, illuminated only by the soft lights above the stove, and Jan finally found a phone book in a drawer under the cupboards. She was leaning against the counter, flipping through the pages when two hands startled her working their way around her waist. She glanced over her shoulder to find a dark mop of hair grazing her cheek. Then Elvis’ breath was warm on her ear.

“Looks like I caught a lil mousy.” He slowly turned her around to face him, grinning at the way she blushed. Then his eyes fell on the phone book and his lips turned into a frown. “Ain’t going, are ya lil gal? Why, it’s still early. Ain’t had the chance to learn all ya secrets yet.” He winked as he said this, and it made Jan’s heart melt.

She would have told him anything he asked. If she could talk, that is. It was difficult for to do that when she looked into Elvis’ earnest wide-eyed stare. She could hear the party out on the patio, there must have been over thirty people here who wanted to be near him. However, to look at his pouting lips and feel the needy caress of his thumb at her waist made Jan feel as though she was the only person in the world and she was letting him down by deserting him.

“I, um, I have to be at work at 7:30 tomorra.” She stuttered, staring at the floor just to be able to get the words out. “It’s time for me to turn into a pumpkin, I guess.”

Elvis rubbed her cheek. “Aw heck, I guess that’s s’ok. I’ll get Mack to drive you home.” He paused, eyelashes fluttering down for a moment. “But, uh, you can’t leave before telling me a few of your secrets.”

“Like what?”

“Like, say, how old are you anyway, huh, lil mouse?” His thumb now rolled over her belt buckle, rubbing her stomach back and forth along the edge.

Jane’s face turned a bright, beet red as she stuttered out her response. “Um, I’m 18.”

“In school?”

She shook her head. “Just finished. I - I’m at Goldsmiths, in the steno pool.”

“Hate to think of these poor lil fingees, banging away all day.” Elvis took her hand, examining her fingers. “Didn’t even know a department store needed a steno pool.

“Um, well, uh - we’re in the business offices on the 18th floor. Most people, they, uh, they never see us.”

“That’s the only floor I wanna see, from now on. ‘specially if all the lil gals up there are as cute as you.” Elvis’ ran his hand through his hair, smirking at the way Jan blushed even harder. Their eyes were locked for a moment, and his forehead dropped on to hers as he murmured in a boyish voice.

“Sorry I didn't get to sign nothing for you, like ya wanted. Come back tomorrow?”

Jan nodded. Elvis kissed her on the cheek and put her into Mack’s car, leaving her with a mouth stuck open in giddy disbelief the whole ride home. She pinched herself at least ten times to make sure she was really awake. That she had really been to Graceland and met Elvis Presley. Then she fell asleep thinking of a pair of playful blue eyes glistening above her.

It was not long before Jan became a permanent fixture at Graceland. She would go home from work, change into a cocktail dress and take the bus to the Winchester Road stop. Every time Travis or Vester let her through the gates she would shiver with anticipation for whatever the night would bring. It was more than just getting to be in the sunshine of Elvis’ affection, though that alone was something she lived for. No, spending the evening at Graceland also meant trips to the skating rink, nights at the fairgrounds, bonfires, music, swimming or fireworks. It was like a never ending summer camp or a holiday resort, like the ones her cousins in New York told her about. And Jan never wanted to check out of this one.

During her days Jan would carry a little notebook around and write down clever things to say to Elvis that she thought would make him laugh, practicing them at her desk while she typed. She often was too shy to actually make these jokes. But she felt more confident just having them ready when she went over. It was usually past midnight when she got home, but Jan just doubled her coffee, determined never to miss an evening at Graceland.

That is, until a big storm hit Memphis the following Saturday.

Jan considered taking a cab over, and called a few of the others to see what they were doing, but she couldn’t get through. The switch board operator told her the storm had knocked down several phone lines through town. Resigned to a night in, she had just made a kettle of hot tea and settled into watch Lawrence Welk when the phone rang and Frances told her Elvis was asking where she was.

The rain poured down on Jan’s cab all the way to Whitehaven. As usual, the curtains were all drawn for the family’s privacy, but tonight it made Graceland look more ominous and the exterior lights cast eerie shadows on a building with no visible life to the outside world. Buckets of rain poured over Jan as she ran from the car to the door, and she stopped at the mirror in the entrance way to try and fix her face. She hated driving in the rain, even as a passenger, she was on edge the whole time and unable to relax until she got to her destination. It made her feel a bit off tonight, and then she felt silly for feeling off. Why, she could hear someone playing a Dean Martin song on the piano, the house was filled with enough music and laughter to block out the sound of the storm, and there she was, feeling like a stick in the mud. She shouldn’t have come.

Jan was distracted from her thoughts of regret when she noticed that someone had put their cigarette out on the floor, staining the beautiful white carpet that lined the entry way. She had just bent down to pick it up when she heard Elvis’ voice, and looked up to see him leaning in the entryway with a few members of the gang.

“Silly lil mousy, scared of a few rain drops. Havta start calling you fraidy mouse.” He leaned his head back and the others joined in with his laughter. “Stead a fraidy cat, fraidy mouse.”

Jan’s eye twitched, and she looked into the mirror. She looked like a wet rat, not a mouse, and she felt like a silly child. She didn’t want to be here anymore.

“You’re not being fair, Elvis, have you even been outside today? I don’t have a car. And it’s a hurricane out there. If you thought about anyone other than yourself you’d know it wasn’t easy coming here.”

Elvis eyes widened and he jumped back as if Jan had slapped his face. “Not fair, huh? Don’t think of others, huh? I cain’t believe my goddamn ears. That’s all I do. You know all you have to do is call and I’d come get you.” His shoulders were back and his hands were at his hips as he roared to the ceiling. “Ain’t fair. aint’ fair. Well if you feel like that you should jus go on back home. No one wants you here anyhow.”

Jan could feel the tears welling up, and she ran past the staircase, through the kitchen and down to the basement so no one would see her cry. She had never seen Elvis loose his temper before. He could be cocky, teasing, oblivious, but now she knew what it was to feel the pummel of his brief, yet intense, bout of rage. Jan slammed her fists down on her knees, mad at herself for loosing her composure. She had immediately regretted what she said, and now she was sure that she had screwed everything up. Elvis would never let her come back. And the thought of loosing her membership in his special, secret club that she had only just began to experience brought forth another round of deep sobs.

Eventually, once she could breathe evenly without blubbering she found her compact and took a look and then promptly put it away. Her makeup was beyond repair. So instead, she began to think about how she could possibly leave without anyone noticing. Then she heard the floor squeak across the hall, and wandering toward the TV room to take a look. She stood in the doorway and looked around.

“Hello? Someone here?”

“Boo!” Elvis jumped out from the projection closet and grabbed Jan, eliciting a high scream that ricocheted through the rooms.

Elvis grinned and licked his thumb to clean off her runny makeup. “See, I was right. You really are a jumpy little fraidy mouse tonight. A pretty, silly, cute and wet lil baby mousy. Come on upstairs, honey, and let’s fix your face.”

Jan let herself slump into Elvis chest as he walked her up to his bathroom and sat her on the counter. Somehow Elvis had a drawer full of makeup, and she gave herself to him completely as he dried her hair and did her eye shadow.

“I’m sorry, Elvis. Bout earlier. I don’t know why I said that, you’re one of the most thoughtful people. It’s just. I’m just.” She sighed. “Driving in the rain and storms always scares me.”

“Aw, honey.” He rubbed her cheek, then puckered out his lips as a cue for her to do the same. “S’ok. Cain’t bare to stay sore at you. You know I ain’t gonna let nothing bad happen to you, baby. Next time, you call me and I’ll come get ya. You’ll always be safe by my side.”

Jan nodded as Elvis drew her to him, holding her tight as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. He began to get a goofy look on his face, as if he might kiss her on the mouth, when Mack knocked on the door and pulled Elvis aside.

“EP, George just called about a story in the evening paper. I gotta tell you, right away.”

Elvis nodded at Jan to go back downstairs, where she found the other guests exchanging hushed whispers and nervous glances. Walking through the various rooms, she finally found Arlene, Frances and a few of the other girls with Gladys on the back patio listening to the rain thump against the green metal awning.

“Oh Jan, we had to get some fresh air. It’s just too awful for words.”

“What is it Mrs. Presley? What’s happened?”

Heidi took her hand and pulled her into the corner.

“It’s Susie, the police found her body in the woods off the Nashville Road.”

Jan’s brow crinkled. “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. I never met her, but - but, ugh, how horrible. What happened?”

“They think she was attacked by animal.” Heidi leaned in closer to whisper in Jan’s ear. “Her heart was torn clean out of her chest. Mrs. Presley is very upset, she was over here all the time.” Heidi squeezed Jan’s hand. Tight. “She was one of us.”

The rest of the night was a blur. Elvis asked most of the guests to clear out before gathering the gang in his bedroom, where he cried openly and asked Alberta to bring them a coconut cake. Then they sat around eating on the bed, sharing their favorite memories of Susie. Heidi left at midnight, and at three Jan looked over at Arlene and Frances and asked if they shouldn’t go to. Elvis’ soulful eyes looked over from where he was slumped across his bed.

“Aw, don’t leave me babies. I can’t bear to be alone.”

Frances. “What, a slumber party with all of us in your bed tonight? What will people think?”

“Fuck ‘em. Nah, people know y’all are good lil virgins, so who cares what they think.” Elvis’ eyebrows went up for a split second when Jan looked away at the word virgin. But if he thought anything of it, he kept it to himself.

The girls went into the bathroom to change in to some of Elvis’ pajamas shirts and get ready for bed. Jan cautiously asked if the others had ever slept over before.

“Oh yeah. A few times.” Arlene handed Jan her comb. “It’s all very innocent. You know Elvis, he hates to be alone. ”

Frances nodded, chiming in. “Yeah, hanky panky is the last thing on his mind. He’s proud that we’re good girls. And when he finds out someone isn’t -”

“Gosh I feel so bad.” Arlene looked at her self despondently as she finished rolling her hair. “I thought that was why Susie wasn’t coming back. I thought she had seduced him in a weak moment, and then he couldn’t bear to have her around anymore knowing she was fast. Boy oh boy, I guess I was wrong.”

“You didn’t know, who would have thought she was dead? Honestly, your theory was the most logical explanation.” Frances rubbed Arlene’s shoulder as they consoled each other.

Jan smiled sympathetically, feeling very awkward because she wanted to share their grief but couldn’t, not really. She looked out into the bedroom at where Elvis lay in the center of his large mattress, staring off into space and wondered if he really banished girls after he slept with them. It seemed an anathema to everything she had learned over the last week about how kind and warm and instantly familiar and sweet he was with women.

Once they were ready for bed, the girls climbed in next to and Elvis he grinned a big crooked grin when Jan scuttled over to claim his right arm. The four of them cuddled in together, talking about Susie, and then musing about the things they wanted to do before they died. Arlene wanted to see the pyramids, Frances wanted to own a horse and Elvis said he wanted to go on a safari in Africa. When it was Jan’s turn, she murmured that this was her dream, to have friends who loved and embraced her so openly. And then she hid her face in Elvis’ chest, blushing as the others cooed over her.

The rain continued, and eventually the conversation moved on to happier topics, such as what people probably eat for dinner in heaven. Spaghetti and meatballs, if Arlene was to be believed. Every so often, Elvis would lean into and start kissing the side of Arlene or Jan’s forehead absentmindedly. Then Frances would claim she was left out and Elvis would make a big production of kissing them all. And then there would be another round of giggles and tickles and little kicks under the covers.

Jan wasn’t quite sure what time she fell asleep, but when she woke up she was nestled into Elvis armpit and the others were gone. Thick black curtains covered the windows and made it impossible to know what time of day it was from the sunlight, at least. Jan hoped it was Sunday morning but she suspected it may already be the afternoon. Pushing her cares aside, she leaned further into Elvis warm body and moving her hand over the cool silk of his white monogrammed pajamas, trying memorize exactly how this felt so she could play it back in her mind’s eye when ever she wanted

“Uh oh, looks like there’s a lil mouse in ma bed.”

Jan felt Elvis’ lips on her forehead, and turned to see his eyes dancing under half open lids. She let out a little snort as she pulled herself closer to him, savoring the cozy cocoon of sheets, blankets and Elvis that enveloped her.

“I wonder where the others are.”

“Probably downstairs stuffing their gob, if I know Arlene.”

Jan swatted Elvis playfully, and he chuckled, stretching his arm out around her with a yawn. She sat up to read the clock on the mantle, and thought of all the little things she had told herself she would do before work tomorrow. Elvis grabbed her pulled her back into his chest.

“Ughhhh, it’s almost 2 in the afternoon.”

“Huh, so, why hurry at this point?” He grinned and caressed her stomach, leaning on his side to hover over her.

“I’m glad ya here, lil gal. Glad we can comfort each other during hard times. An I’m glad you been coming over, you one of my sweet lil girls now, Jan." He kissed her cheek, his lip spouting. "Now, you gotta promise you won't go on no dates when I’m outta town, it would break my heart.”

Jan nodded up, her mouth hanging open. “No, you can trust me Elvis. I won’t see anyone else.”

A lock of his black hair dangled over his forehead, and Jan flinched when Elvis’ hand moved over the low curve of her belly.

“Honey, you know you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about with me, though. I would never hurt you, or do anything wrong to you.”

Jan nodded. “I know - I just - I guess I’m just not used to being around men like this very often. But I like it. I like being around you.”

“Huh, well, that’s good. I don’t want you spending time with anyone else, lil mouse. You know I meant it when I say I’m glad all you girls are good lil virgins. You know I’m not like most guys, I respect you.” His fingers smoothed over the hair above her widow’s peak. “So you ain’t gotta worry bout that.”

Jan broke their eye contact and looked up at the dark blue ceiling.

“What - what is it, honey? Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed talking bout, should be proud that you’re a good girl.”

“I’m - I.” Jan hesitated and met Elvis eyes as she rolled over the pillow and looked into the mirror, watching his face as he nuzzled his chin into her from behind. He ran his fingers over her matching navy blue pajama shirt.

“What’s the word, lil mouse? You know you can tell me anything?”

Jan rolled back into him, murmuring into the white lining above his collar.

“I’m just afraid you won’t want me around anymore. You - the gang - spending time here. It’s the best part of my day. But I don’t want to lie to you, Elvis.” Her voice got even lower and she trembled. “I’m not a virgin.”

Elvis tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. “Ya not?”

Jan slowly shook her head. “But - but I’m not here to try to seduce with you.”

He let out a loud cackle.

“No? Don’t find me attractive, huh?”

“No, I do. It’s just that I know - I ‘ve heard. That is, they say once a girl goes all the way with you, she’s not allowed to come back.”

Elvis’ brows furrowed and Jan wasn’t sure if he was hurt or about to laugh again until chuckle rang out. “What? That’s the stupidest goddamn thing I eva heard. How would any of those lil hens know, anyway?”

“I - I - I don’t know, I never asked.” Jan’s voice trailed off as Elvis chuckled into her cheek as he kissed her.

“Well, don’ worry baby, I ain’t trying to take advantage of ya, virgin or not.” His hands roved over her sides as he looked deep into her eyes. “Man oh man, mousy gal, look so sweet and innocent though, never would ‘ave guessed.”

Jan felt a tingly warmth start to coil in her belly and she gasped as Elvis rolled his nose over hers. He moved closer, his hand roving under her pajama shirt and trailing under her bare breast.

“Thanks for not taking advantage of me, either way.” Jan muttered, slightly distracted by the nips at her ear and the succession of slow and firm kisses that followed on her neck.

“Naw, honey. Wouldn’t dream a it. Furthest thing from my mind.”

Jan didn’t know what would happen the next she arrived at the Graceland gate house, she half expected Uncle Vester to turn her away. But he waved her through, and she chided herself for being silly. Elvis was so kind and warm, she could never imagine him banishing her after what they had shared. He had been so sweet, so kind, so gentle. He had conjured a pleasure from deep within her that she had never experience before, and she felt as if she had only truly been with a man for the first time when she was with him. Still, as Jan walked up the hill to the house she vowed to resist the urge to experience that pleasure again. She didn’t want to loose her friendships with the other girls. And so, as she stepped in the door and removed her coat and gloves, she swore to herself she would never go all the way with Elvis Presley. Again.

Solemn oaths, however, are so very difficult to keep. And Jan found herself changing her mind the minute Elvis whispered in her ear to sneak up stairs and wait for him in his bed room when Mack went to drive the other members of the gang home. Heidi, Frances and Arlene said nothing, but Jan could tell they knew something was up. They must, have, she reasoned. Especially once Elvis started picking her up and dropping her off himself. Sometimes he would take her home alone, but when he picked her up most evenings he would park and honk outside her ladies boarding house with some of the other guys and ask if they had any available rooms for Lamar. Jan caught Arlene staring at her out of the corner of her eye all the next week, and then Heidi trapped her on the landing that Friday.

“Just be careful. ‘Member: keep your knees closed, that’s the only way to make it last now that you’re one of his girls.”

Jan’s brow furrowed “But we’re all his girls.”

“You know what I mean, Jan. Anita is coming back from New York in a few days, I hope you know what you are doing.”

Jan swallowed hard as she watched Heidi descend down the staircase. Had she just been a bed warmer during Anita’s absence? Was there a way to go back to how it had been at first, when the most she did in bed with Elvis was have pillow fights and tickling kisses? But then when he squeezed her hand and rubbed his thumb along the side of her palm she was powerless to stop herself from answering his silent call and going to wait for him in his bedroom.

It was Sunday, Elvis was going back on tour the next day. It was her last night with him and Jan ran out of her apartment the second she saw the winged tips on the back of Elvis’ white Eldorado outside her window. She slid down the banister and jumped off the end, soliciting a humpf and a stern glance from the boarding house matron at the front desk. Jan giggled. She couldn’t help it. But her gait slowed when she noticed the single blonde bob in the driver’s seat.

“Why hey there, Miss Janice, how are you?”

Jan frowned and leaned into the car. “Looking for me Anita?”

The blonde’s a tight fake smile grew across her face. Jan couldn’t help but notice that she had bags under her eyes and the rosy color that had animated her creamy pink skin when they first met had faded. Anita no longer had that radiant glow, she looked sickly and pale. This didn’t seem to dampen her energy, and she giggled and patted the seat beside her.

“Come on, honey, thought we could go for a lil ol drive, have a lil ol talk.” She winked. “You know, girl to girl.” Jan sighed and rubbed her neck, looking around as she considered what she should do. What was the worst that could happen? Anita might yell at her, she might start a scene with Elvis later. Maybe Jan could stop her from doing that, could talk some sense into her or even convince her she was wrong. So Jan took a deep breath and got into the car.

“How was New York?”

They made small talk as Anita guided her car around the block and drove further from the lights of downtown Memphis into the dark, black night. “In the Still of The Night” came on the radio as the Eldorado made its way through the outskirts of Memphis. After a while, Jan stopped trying to come up with things to say, and awkwardly started to suggest maybe they should get back, unless there was something specific Anita wanted to discuss. Anita turned again to smile, and pulled the car on to the side of the road. She shut off the engine and Jan suddenly felt a tremor of fear rise up her spine. An owl hooted out in the woods, off beyond the shoulder. Other than that, there was no one around.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Anita. I thought we were friends.”

Anita shifted in her seat to look at her directly, and Jan could swear she saw a flash of yellowish green in Anita’s eyes.

“Why you must think I was born yesterday, to be friends with a lil tramp that goes doing the hanky panky with my man.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jan whispered, her voice stilted and unsure as she blinked at the ground. She shivered when Anita scooted closer along the front seat and leaned into Jan’s face, sniffing her cheek.

“Heavens to betsy, honey. I can still smell him on you.”

Jan began to mutter that was not even possible, but her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard in disbelief as she watched Anita’s mouth grow wider and wider and her teeth extend into a row of sharp daggers. Jan tried and failed to find the door handle, so instead, she opted to crawl out through the open window. Somehow Anita ran around the front of the car lightening fast and managed to tackled Jan to the ground before she could run. Her small body had the strength of ten men as she held Jan down by her shoulders on the cold dirt that lined the dark road.

“Please, please, I’ll stop, I promise. Cross my heart.”

Anita smiled down at Jan and her yellow eyes burned bright in the black night.

“Bless your heart, that’s just what I’m after too.”

Then, with a flash of her smile, Anita ripped through Jan’s chest with her teeth and devoured her still-beating heart in one gulp, savoring the way it throbbed down her throat. Jan’s screams echoed through the forest and down the Nashville road, but there was no human around for miles and miles to hear them.

Heidi, Arlene and the others looked for Jan at the gate over the following days and weeks. Once or twice, they thought they saw her walking down the street from the bus stop, but they were wrong.

“She must have slept with him.” Arlene explained, smoothing her skirt as they walked around the pool.

“I warned her, I said, once girls go all the way with him, they never come back.” Heidi tutted, looking across the patio and nodding her head at Anita. “Gosh, she looks even prettier than the last time. Must have had more work down when she was ‘at that job in New York.’”

“Oh fooey, to hell with Anita Wood.”

OK, but seriously, look at these photos from before and after she started dating Elvis. You cannot tell me Anita wasn't gobbling up the hearts of innocent gate girls when Elvis wasn't looking!

Happy Elvis-o-Ween.......

I am working on at least one more or two more Elvis-o-ween fics so let me know if you want to be tagged. For now just tagging randomly. So also feel free to tell me to fuck off.

taglist:

@whositmcwhatsit @arrolyn1114 @be-my-ally @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @lookingforrainbows @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis @ab4eva @kingdomforapony @ashtag6887 @dkayfixates @eliseinmemphis @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @louisejoy86 @i-r-i-n-a-a @horror-movieshoes @everythingelvispresley @doll-elvis @j-v-9-2 @notstefaniepresley @richardslady121 @crash-and-cure

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #1957 elvis #elvis-o-ween #a little spooky and scary... not really #banditqueenwrites #halloween fic #halloween

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be-my-ally · 6 months

Text

Autumn Leaves Falling Down

(Like Pieces into Place)

I've inserted the sneak peak/1st part from last week into this to make it easier to locate and read, so if the first 1k reads as familiar that's why.

summary: it's autumn 1972, and Elvis' girl on the side, Laura (from All Revved Up), who is no longer the girl on the side -- has come to stay at Graceland. There's the Memphian, an attempt at a trip to the morgue, and Elvis in a sweater - oh, and smut.

wc: 7.6k

warnings: 18+, kissing, making out at the cinema, there's an argument with Red that results in a gun being drawn but doesn't go off, mentions of dead bodies, p in v sex. this could probably do with a ton of editing but i am fundamentally lazy.

the memphian scenes are totally inspired by @whositmcwhatsit’s The Gate Girl — I've avoided rereading the past couple of weeks to try and forget it but i’ve read it upwards of 55 times and i think i’ve absorbed it all into my brain as fact - and really, she does it much better than me so everyone (if you haven't) pls go and check it out.

October 19th 1972 Graceland.

It’s quiet as Laura pads down the stairs, suspicious of the silence in the house - hoping that Elvis hadn’t actually up and left her on her own. She hadn’t bothered to get dressed, hoping to find him quickly and work out what she should wear today, and besides, it was early - knowing him they’d end up back in bed soon. But she hadn’t really anticipated having to go all the way downstairs before she could call to him. She wraps her arm around herself as she looks around, it’s the first time she’s been cold at Graceland, really she’s only been there a handful of times anyway - and last year in the colder months he’d had her over in Palm Springs. Sure, he kept his room at a frankly ridiculous temperature but under the warmth of his heavy comforter and arm she barely felt it. Now though it feels as though there’s a cool breeze running through the house. The late summer having certainly given way to autumn, bronzed leaves starting to fall off the trees.

Elvis is nowhere to be found as she peeks around doorways and arches, and she wonders if she should give up and just wait for him to show up in the bedroom - but she’s sure he’d have woken her up if he was leaving, so he must be around here somewhere. She’s grateful there’s carpet in the kitchen for her bare toes when she creeps around the corner, the breeze suddenly stronger. The mystery is quickly solved; the door to the hallway flapping from the exterior door being left open. Laura huffs as she slams them shut, but it does at least explain where they’ve all gone (and why it was so breezy in the house). She looks down at herself, considering if she was prepared to venture out, but it’s just this side of too cold, and besides she’s pretty sure Elvis would flip out at her parading outside in just her silk robe. She heads down to the den, intending on just getting a little glimpse before going to get changed.

She quickly spots some of the guys, as she peeks out of the glass, but they’re all just a little too far to the side for her to see everyone. She leans against the windowsill to help her stretch to peer as far as she can out, tiptoes rubbing into the plush green carpet. A football comes flying and Joe comes running past, red-faced and struggling to breathe in an attempt to catch it. She can’t help but giggle watching him as the collection of men come trotting around the corner to join him. Elvis at the end of the group, looking pleased with what had clearly been his throw. Laura leans as close as possible to the window, ducking her head under the little curtain, appreciating the look of him having fun. He’s practically bouncing around outside, dressed casually in a way she hasn’t really seen before - his velour zip-up looking particularly cosy. He’s a little thicker than he was in the height of the summer and in Laura’s opinion it looks good on him; she’s a fan of how he’s styling his hair at the moment too - the slightly longer shaggy length of it that seems to look like he’s either just combed it into a gentle swoop or like he’s been rolling around on it. Both looks make her tummy flip if she looks at them for too long. He’s foregone his tinted glasses, whether because it was overcast and therefore the light manageable to his eyes, or simply from fear of the football being thrown Laura didn’t know. She could, however, just from looking at the set of his shoulders tell that for once he seemed untroubled. As calm as he could ever be, his carefree attitude was evident even from a distance. He spots her at the window after a couple more passes, his face lighting up as he jogged over to the window.

Even though Laura was watching him she still startles when he taps the glass, through the decorative metal, grinning at her. She beams back - thrilled at his happy face.

“How’d’you sleep honey?” He shouts at her, muffled but still audible, she giggles in response - shaking her head at his antics. She’s pretty sure she’s somehow alone in the house, but she wasn’t about to start shouting through a window at him. He folds his arms, leaning back to look her up and down, frowning suddenly and insistently tapping the glass again in mock outrage.

“Get dressed!” Laura shakes her head again, teasing him and watches as he signals something to the boys who all jog off to one side. She’s too distracted by all the movement to notice Elvis himself disappearing, until the door slams open. She stumbles, caught in the drape when she attempts to whirl herself around - but before she can right herself there’s an arm suddenly wrapping around her middle, holding her tight and close. Despite the plush velour rubbing against her back, she can feel the chill on him; they must have been out there playing for a while already.

“Jesus Elvis! You’re freezing!” He shakes his head, laughing and shoving his cold nose into the crook of her neck, “Elvis!” She tries to dance and wriggle out of his hold, but he has a surprisingly tight grip onto her.

“Not my fault Lor! Y’gotta get dressed, honey, catch yer death runnin’ round like this!” He tugs her away from the window, bundling them towards the middle of the room.

“Didn’t need - didn’t need to before.” His hands brush up her sides and she squirms as he tickles her. “‘Fore someone kept shoving their nose places it didn’t be-” Laura yelps when his nose makes another appearance, now with accompanying snuffle-snorting noises. “-long!”

“Oh yes you do. Can’t have you like this -” Elvis holds her with one arm, the other hand trailing down to brush across her bare thigh, large hand parting her robe and pushing up her nightgown. Laura involuntarily clenches her thighs and immediately feels his huff of laughter as he feels it. His voice lowering as he leans closer to her ear, the gentle vibration sending goose-pimples across her skin. “Not like this.” He flicks at the hem, now high enough to send a gust of air across the crease of her upper thigh, just the threat of exposure enough to make her gasp.

He smooths the fabric back down, mock outrage back in his voice; “Anyone could see you!” As if he wasn’t the one exposing her. He prods his long fingers into her tummy, making her crunch in an attempt to squirm away from his tickling, giggling the whole time.

“No, no!” She shrieks, “No more! I give!” He stills his hands and between gulps of air she tells him, “I’ll get dressed! I give.”

“Y’better!” he growls against her ear, squeezing her tight to his torso for a long second before releasing her with a grunt. Self-satisfied smile on his face when he pulls her around to face him, her own rosy cheeks matching his. He flicks at the hem of her nightgown again, shaking his head at her.

“Go on then.” He turns her to the stairs, slapping her behind as she stumbles calling out to her as she heads up the stairs and back up to his bedroom “Hurry! Want you to be my little cheerleader out there!”

So, Laura hurries. She gets ready as quickly as possible; dabbing on a little makeup and brushing her hair. She’s casually dressed when she heads back down towards the back door - jeans and a ribbed rollneck, fully expecting to change again later in the day. She grabs one of Elvis’ coats out of the coat closet on the way, wrapping herself in the thick fabric and liking how it fell past her knees - she’d really not been prepared for this early fall chill, having brought with her light jackets and layers instead of anything with a focus on warmth. Elvis grins over at her, pretending to throw the ball at her when she finally exits the house, and she giggles back at him, standing to the side of their playing space,

“Gimme a E!” She shouts at him, and he roars with laughter, shaking his head as he loudly tells the boys;

“Oh, you’re in for it now! Got my little good luck charm out here, haven’t I? Where’s all your missus’ huh?” Jokingly shoving and jostling as they come in closer. The game continues - seemingly some sort of bastardised version of football wherein it was every man for himself, and Laura contented herself with watching from the sidelines, every now and again giving Elvis an encouraging cheer at what she hoped was a particularly decent run or pass. It was growing a little boring watching by herself and she wondered where all the other wives and girlfriends were, if they’d had other plans or turned down an invitation to watch - or, as she hoped (despite her boredom) if she’d been specially invited out to the boys-only impromptu game. But Elvis looked happy, practically beaming at her every time he ran close by and so she was more than happy to burrow into the lapels and collar of the large overcoat, enveloping herself in his scent while she watched on. It’s only about ten minutes later that he runs past and pauses, hands outstretched,

“Aw, Lor, baby, I’m all chilled to my booones, you gotta warm me up ‘fore I freeze!” He tries to shove his cold hands up her sweater and she shrieks, dashing away from him -

“Oh no you don’t!” He pouts, arms crossed, and she shakes her head, “Not gonna work this time mister, you’ve got icicles for hands, and you can keep them to yourself!” Elvis huff in a faux put upon manner, and calls the boys in;

“C’mon guys, I’m gettin’ bored of kickin’ all your asses… and ‘m hungry - let’s go have somethin’ to eat and warm up a bit.” Laura goes where he nods towards the house, slowing to let him catch up with her and letting him curl his cold hands onto her warm stomach from behind as they walked in together.

Hours later, after the afternoon light had turned to darkness and they’d spent the day fooling around in the house - if she didn’t know better she’d be wondering where all their energy was still coming from - Elvis was again calling for her to get dressed so they could leave for the Memphian.

“Maybe you wanna get changed sweetheart? You know, into, uh, just something, you know, honey, just, just a bit more, uh, flattering…” He’d followed her up the stairs, and she found it hard to be annoyed at his disparaging comment towards her jeans when he’d playfully chased her into the bedroom. Laura shrieked and danced out of his hands, screeching when he got close enough to dig his fingers into the sensitive flesh just above her knee. She careened through the door and they both fell together once he tackled her when she was close enough to the bed.

They ended up rolling around on the bed for a moment, both laughing. She allows him to pepper her face with kisses, rolling on top of him to return the favour. He clings to her, unwilling to let her wiggle off of him even when she tries to lean back fearing she was squishing him. “Elvis, you’ve got to let me get offa you; I bet you can hardly breathe under me!” He rolls his eyes, flexing his forearms as he squeezed her even tighter to him,

“Can’t breathe! I’ll show you can’t breathe.” She can practically feel her ribs cracking and she yelps,

“Elvis!” Elvis laughs, releasing her, making Laura relax on top of him, sinking against his body. She leans back to observe his face, running a gentle hand over his cheek, stroking the side of his intense eyes and trailing it down to trace his plush lips. He playfully nips at her finger, growling and she blushes at how the noise immediately sent her tummy into somersaults. She feels herself tingle at the sensation of his breath on her now damp finger, and her eyes slip closed for a long second. When they reopen he’s staring at her, mouth slightly open, eyes lidded and she no longer cares about being on top of him, his hands sliding down her sides to hold her as she bucks her hips, manoeuvring her to slip her legs on either side of one of his. She grinds down, tangling her fingertips into his sideburns as she captures his mouth again. It’s delicate for one short moment before they both seem to sense an urgency in the situation and she suddenly feels like she’s a willing victim being devoured, his tongue and teeth everywhere all at once. She pulls back to catch her breath, and he chases her lips even then, kissing the side of her mouth until she recaptures his. He ruts up against her once, twice, before stilling and rolling her to the side - Laura lays there panting,

“El, what’s? what’s wrong?” She pauses, she doesn’t want to embarrass him but she can’t help but ask, “Did you - did you, uh, finish?” Elvis smiles a little bashfully, eyes crinkling at the sides as he shakes his head,

“No, no, honey, no just, just gonna save myself - be better later if we just wait; I’ve got plans for you this evening, jus - just lemme hold off for the mo.’” She nods, it makes sense, even if she impatiently wanted him now - and she whispers as much against his jaw.

“Want you all the time, want you in the morning, in the evening in the - god, Elvis, I just - I want to be here all the time, want you right now.” He rolls them so he’s leaning over her, caging her in with his arms and wrapping one of his legs between hers.

“You got me darling, you got me - we just, I want to make it special, tonight - just, just cool it baby yeah? Gotta,” He leans forward into her to kiss her, pressing his mouth hard against hers, tongue licking into her long and slow, before pulling back, breathing heavily again. Elvis reluctantly stood up. “Gotta get ready now. Get ourselves looking uh, presentable.” He cracks his back, stretching his arms and Laura feels abruptly cold at the loss of his warm body heat, panting as her heartbeat slows and the throbbing between her legs cools to a faintly warm glow.

—------------

Laura stares at her hair in the mirror, pinning half of it up, brushing through the rest gently, trying not to lose too much of the volume from the day. Her mousy roots are showing from where she dyes it near-black and she absentmindedly makes a mental note to ask if Elvis knows where she can get some dye, or if there’s time for her to go to the hairdressers. He’d already left for downstairs, having gotten changed unusually faster than she had and left the bedroom long before she was done in the bathroom, telling her,

“Take your time, baby, ain’t going nowhere without you.” She’d blushed at her own reflection at her reaction to his words - it had clearly been a throwaway sentence for him, not something she should take to heart and yet she couldn’t resist it. It was too much, too soon, too close to everything she wanted that she could practically feel it fluttering around her head, feeling herself locking it away tight in her chest. It had been on the edge of every interaction with him the past couple of years, the knowing that she was kept around for a reason, and that she kept coming back for a reason. She’d never been much of a fan of the men in Vegas; they were all too lecherous and desperate – even those that weren’t there to partake in all the sins and pleasures. The few dates she’d been on with guys she’d met while working out there had ended fast, and often slightly uncomfortably. Elvis wasn’t like that though. She’d thought he might be, expected he would be - had rolled her eyes at herself when her stomach flipped at his fingers calling her over. Had lain in bed telling herself it was just her stupid crush from years ago rearing its ugly head, making her see things that weren’t there. She wouldn’t ever even see him again, and don’t be stupid Laura, he probably wasn’t all that nice anyway. Besides, he has a wife and she knew enough not to get involved.

But somehow, her feelings and heart ruled over her sense and before she knew it her life revolved around him in a not unwanted way. She’d not had to worry as much about the men in Vegas then, they could behave how they wished — her dating life that had previously been slim was pared down even more, too anxious that she might be out when Elvis would choose to call and she’d miss him or have to explain where she was. It meant dates were few and far between, but as much as she thought herself a terrible idiot - she couldn’t bear to let anything get far enough that she might have to turn Elvis down.

She shakes her head at the reminiscence, it's been years since that first encounter during one of his early residencies. She’s getting too emotional about it now she’s allowed to be here, tangled in the domesticity of Graceland life, allowed to be photographed, and publicised. She just needs to stay in the moment, worry about how her feelings are getting involved when she gets home - she’s only here for a month, she should just make the most of it. She finishes getting ready quicker with that in mind, rushing through her make-up, a voice in her head telling her not to stupidly waste time. Before long she had her mini dress on and shoes quickly buckled before she headed down the stairs.

Laura had seen photos of Elvis when he was younger, knew that he wasn’t opposed to knits, it just wasn’t something she’d yet had the good fortune of witnessing. But there he was, sat on the couch in the music room, waiting for her and everyone else to be ready. Open V neck knitted sweater with a little collar. She stilled in the hallway, reluctant to break his silence. He’s just sat there with his thighs spread and his legs stretched out, arms across the back of the sofa, his eyes closed and head tipped back. She must make a noise, or something, because he suddenly jolts his head up to look over at her. They make eye-contact and she freezes even more still, trapped in his intense gaze. He looks well, like she wanted to climb into him and never crawl out, cuddly and soft and yet thick and masculine. Laura swallowed, her hands shaking a little, as he pats his thigh. How ridiculous that something as little as that could make someone so nervous - she’s just about to take a step towards him, ready to curl into the plush fuzzy softness of his sweater and tangle her fingers in the similarly plush fuzzy softness of his chest hair when there’s a sudden ruckus from seemingly all sides as all the other men and woman, ready for a night out, suddenly appear. Laura mourns the loss of her cuddle, but Elvis’ hand in hers as he effectively shows her off on their way out makes up for it a little.

The step out into the late evening air was even chillier than the day, Laura shivered in her thin jacket - it was downright unseasonable for Tennessee in October to be this cold and she wishes for the second time that day that she’d thought to bring a heavier coat, but then the heavy thump of Elvis’ arm comes down around her shoulder, enveloping her in him. She finds she doesn’t mind the cold so much then, able to enjoy the scent of the wet, crisp fall air and how it just feels different to the summer within the warmth of his grasp.

They’d filtered into the Memphian and Elvis immediately grasped her wrist, pulling Laura with him. He ignored the hustle of the others to head straight up the stairs to the balcony, she goes where he leads - he’d taken her to the Crosstown the last time she’d been in Memphis, so she didn’t really have much choice; not knowing where he was going beyond the ‘balcony’ sign on the door. The door slams behind her, and she jumps at its loud echo in the empty movie theatre.

“I didn’t wanna ‘embarrass you ‘round the guys, I just, uh, want you all to myself.” He pauses while he shuffles down the aisle, “Figured this way,” He settled himself into a chair one row back, in the very centre, “this way you can - “

Elvis suddenly realises she hasn’t followed him down the aisle and laughs, “C’mon, darling, what’chyu standing out there for?” Laura hurries down to him, and he clasps her hand as she gets herself comfortable in the seat next to his, bringing it to his lips. She blushes at the feeling - it was so startlingly romantic that she can’t think of what to say, her heart beating like a hummingbird’s. He settles back into his chair, dropping her hand to stretch his arm across the back of her chair. A couple of the others come thundering up the stairs, laughing and joking, but they go silent when coming through the doors, taking seats right along the back wall - Laura’s head turns to see who it was but Elvis’ hand from her chair blocks its path, two fingers pressed against her cheek as he cups her face - keeping her looking directly at him.

“Don’ worry about them - they won’t bother us none.” She nods, unable to stop herself leaning her head further into his hand — he smiles softly - cheeks crinkling into his eyes. His hand falls to stroke at her shoulder,

“There we are. Now, what was I saying?” He pauses, “Oh, yeah, if - this way if y’get scared I can cuddle ya.” He pauses, “You’re alright with a…. uh…. slasher flick aren’t ya?” He prods her far shoulder.

She nodded enthusiastically, although her head was ringing alarm bells - she wasn’t normally a huge fan of any kind of horror. She lived alone - life was scary enough without worrying about x hiding behind her doors at night.

But any reservations Laura had were quickly lost when after the title card came across the screen accompanied by some ominous instrumentals Elvis’ hand came creeping across to her thigh,

“You scared?” She shakes her head.

“Course not.” He nods, although his smirk suggests he’s unconvinced,

“Good, but just so you know - ‘m packing…. I could protect you from anything. ‘Specially a man.” He’s looking at her almost too seriously, and she feels trapped under his intense gaze, all she can do is nod.

“Of course - I know, I know you would.” He stares a second longer, before leaning back into his chair, and he indicates with his head the unoccupied seat next to him.

“Besides, if you’re just scared, I got my big ol’ flashlight with me too.” She nods again, not quite knowing what to say in reply - she can tell he’s waiting for her to speak though so all that spills out of her mouth is,

“That’s-that’s the police one, right?”

“Mmhmm… got it direct offa the sheriff.” She turns to say something else, but the opening scene starts to play and he shushes her, pulling his hand off her thigh, enrapt in the movie.

Clearly, it fails in holding his attention for very long. Mere minutes later he leans over, sighing, not bothering to try and keep quiet. She squeaks in surprise as his hands grip hold of her arms - tugging her, she scrabbles over the arm of the chair to go where he’s pulling her — arranging her to be sat on his lap. She looks around, suddenly coming to the realisation that at some point he must have shooed away everyone else from the balcony. He tuts, a finger going to her mouth in a keep quiet gesture when she opens it to speak, pointing at the screen as if telling her to keep watching. Laura does, but she’s lost track of whatever was going on and can’t find it in herself to care when she feels one of his hands curl around to creep gently up her uncovered thigh, the other gripping tight on her side, just below her breast. He teases her like that for a few minutes, although Laura’s lost all sense of time, too focussed on the tickle of his fingers and breath on her neck. She can’t take it anymore, turning to throw an arm around his neck, shifting on his lap to draw him into a kiss. Elvis pulls her tighter, fingers tensing, and she moans into him.

He tugs Laura’s leg a little, pulling her to be straddling his lap. She’s embarrassed almost, or would be if there were anyone around, to be sat on his knee like this, rocking against him and necking him like a goddamn teenager. She’s not done this since college, and he feels so different. He’s got solid thighs and sure hands, manoeuvring her and masterfully keeping his lips on hers - just the right amount of pressure, of tongue, and nibbling bites.

Elvis’ fingers slide up her skirt, toying with the fabric of her slip while his other comes around to palm at her like a teenager himself, hand roving over her breast. She gasps into him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his jaw as she grinds against him. He seems to gain confidence at her reaction, moving to push the wide strap of her dress off her shoulder, tugging it low enough to reach the soft cotton of her bra. His fiddles with her nipples, pinching one just the tiniest bit between his fingers and Laura’s eyes roll back in pleasure. He bumps her panties with the other, but goes no further, moving to grip her back in an attempt to keep her balance on his legs.

She pants, uncaring now if she’s louder than the actors, gasping as he pulls away. She’s never been gladder he’s wearing a v-neck when she rocks against his thigh, leaning forward to suck a bruise against his collarbone. His hips dislodge her accidentally when the pressure gets too much and he bucks up, jerking her away. Laura’s fingers tangle into the fabric on his shoulders, her nails making little divots in the knit; he was going to have to have someone steam this sweater to get it straight again. He’s breathing rapidly against her cheek, hot breath tickling her nose,

“‘s no good baby, I got - I got plans for you tonight.” Laura grinds against him, unabashed at her wanton display.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah baby, wanna,” His thumb rubs a circle on her hip as he slows his own jerking pelvis. “Wanna show you something. Something a lil’ spooky” Laura grins back at him, hand slipping down between them -

“Oh yeah, you got something you want to show me?” She attempts a particularly awful Transylvanian accent, “Something spooky you wanna show me?” She brushes her hand over the not insignificant bulge of his trousers, the outline of his cock clearly displaying he’d forgone underwear. He moans, eyes closing for a moment before he shakes his head, clasping her wrist and tugging her hand away.

“No, no baby, honey, I got, ah, lord, got something serious I wanna show you.” Laura pauses from her playful wriggling, curious.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh Lor, but, uh, let it be a surprise.” He pulls up her strap, patting her shoulder.

“A surprise?” She’s unsure now that he’s not joking about sex.

“You trust me, don’t you?” He’s looking at her so earnestly, lip caught in his teeth that she couldn’t dream of refusing him.

“Of course!” He pushes her off his lap, brushing himself off and straightening her collar when he joins her in standing up,

“Well then darlin’ let’s go.” He holds out a hand and seems to take a mischievous glee in practically running away; leaving the boys downstairs none the wiser to their disappearance. He opens the car door for her with an exaggerated wave and bow before trotting around the front to climb in himself.

They pull up to the nearby funeral home and Elvis starts to climb out of the car but Laura stays frozen where she’s sat, more uncertain than ever. “El I’m not sure about this,” He cuts her off,

“Nah baby, trust…you said you trusted me.” He leans down to peer through the door at her, “Don’t go lying to me now, doll, Cilla liked it - she told me herself it was uh, enlightening!” He’s tripping over his words in his haste to convince her. He’d mentioned his trips to the morgue before - endlessly fascinated with the spiritual and scientific notion of the still bodies. But Laura’s conflicted - she can’t help but feel it’s fundamentally disrespectful to stand there gawking at some poor person’s body but, on the other hand, the reverent way he spoke about the trips and his persistent aura of peace means that she can’t help but feel that it’s ok. As long as she’s with him. She nods, climbing out to follow him. He once again takes her hand, and the unease builds again the closer they get to the door - she was concerned before with the morality of going in there but now it’s her squeamish nature that’s starting to make her tummy hurt.

“C’mon hon, it’ll be good for you.”

“If you say so -“ She mutters back. He raps on the door that was now in front of them. There are no lights on, and she shakes her head,

“Elvis - I don’t think there’s anyone in there, they’re closed.” He tilts his head, frowning, as if confused that a door might remain shut to him before insistently knocking again.

“I got, got special permission, Laura, they - they can’t just lock us out. Hello?” He bangs on the window to the side of the door, he huffs, turning away when there’s a sudden loud crash from inside. Both him and Laura jump at the noise, both whirling back - Elvis jogs down the path, standing back to be able to see all the windows but still no light turns on to indicate anyone inside. He marches back up to the door, raising his arm to pound on it again but Laura catches his forearm, tugging it back to her;

“C’mon El - we’ll come back another night. I’m - I’m scared now, and maybe if they know we’re coming they’ll have the lights on…” He looks down at her, gaze softening at the way she’s quivering a tiny bit - a combination of the anticipatory fear, her jumpiness, and the cold.

“Goddamnit.” He swears, “Well, guess we’ll have to come back another night.” He makes it sound like his idea and accompanies it with a shake of his head. Laura had fully expected him to be more annoyed - and he is, somewhat, ranting the whole way back to Graceland; but thankfully less at the funeral home and his inability to sneak in and more at the movie they’d left. Blaming it for his rash idea to come here with no planning involved.

Most of the cars were already back and parked along the driveway when they got there; either the movie had finished and they’d all left before they started another, or more likely - they’d noticed Elvis’ disappearance and abandoned the movie all together. Red shook his head at Elvis as they walked in,

“Man - don’t you go looking at me like that.” Red baulks at the suggestion,

“I wasn’t Boss, wasn’t looking at you like anything, swear it -” Laura tactfully takes a step back, removing her jacket and taking Elvis’ coat in an attempt to remove herself from the conversation. She goes to the kitchen in the hope of finding someone to hand them off to, before taking a second to collect herself to be, hopefully, a calming influence on the raised voices she could now hear. She slinks back into the hallway,

“I can go where I goddamn like - you sayin’ I can’t protect myself?” Elvis’ waving his pistol in the air like he’s in a western, and Laura bites her lip to stop from giggling. Red’s backtracking now, his hands up as if warding Elvis off,

“Of course, I wasn’t - I wasn’t suggesting that I’m jus’ - just sayin’ you disappeared is all and what with the threats -”

“You hear about anybody threatenin’ me at home?” Elvis roars back, his finger inching ever so slightly to the trigger; Laura panics desperate for them to not get into this now - God forbid there had been a threat made, they’d all be up for hours while they reassessed the security. Red shakes his head,

“Well, no - but people move about, EP, they don’t just stay in one-” Laura takes her chance and steps in, lightly touching Elvis’ arm,

“Baby, I’m tired.” Elvis does a double take at her, completely ignoring Red still talking. “Can we go to bed please?” She blinks owlishly at him to convince him to leave it be, and Elvis seemed to relax, his tense shoulders coming down as he lowers his arm with the gun in hand. There’s a long pause,

“Sure, sure, doll, sure.” He gestures for her to go ahead, pausing at the bottom of the stairs, “Get him the fuck out of my house, I’ll talk to y’all tomorrow.” Elvis ignores Red’s reply, climbing the stairs himself. He shushes Laura when they reach his bedroom, fiddling with the security camera feed until he watches Red leave. He sighs, heavily, and shakes his whole body out, “Awh, baby, I didn’t - didn’t need to get all worked up like that, just - those assholes just don’t understand what it’s like to be me. I can’t be all, all, all cooped up like this all the time.” He whines, gesturing expressively as he talks.

“It’s ok.” She shrugs, running her manicured hands gently up his arm, “They can be pretty overbearing huh?” She presses her chin into the crook of his shoulder as he sighs, kneading his biceps. He sighs back at her,

“I know he’s just doin’ his job, but…” He trails off, taking another deep breath, “Anyway, enough of that now. I want to get back to the night - all m’plans were ruined tonight - you deserve well, you deserve the perfect night.” He turns in her arms, and Laura frowns up at him,

“Why don’t you let me worry about that. I’m fine, I’ve had a great night; such a shame about not being let into the morgue…. How about you let me take care of you?” He shakes his head,

“Naw, naw darlin’ I want to -” He cups her face in his hands, the size of his palms dwarfing her cheeks, “want to show you how much I like having you here.” Elvis tips her head up, bending over a little to reach her lips even as she’s stood on her tiptoes.

She’s enrapt in the moment, not really even conscious of his hands fiddling with her zipper on her back until she suddenly feels his fingertips on her bare skin, chasing the zip all the way down until it's falling off her on its own. His hand comes up to clasp her face to his when she moves as if to pull away, using his free hand to shove her dress to pool at her feet. He pulls back with a tug on her bottom lip, and Laura surges forward to hurriedly tug at his sweater - he takes the hint, pulling it over his head and Laura turns her attention to his trousers. He rushes to unhook her bra, even as he stumbles out of his pants, and it's only a few seconds later before her panties join her dress on the floor.

“C’mon now, honey, s’ok, just - just wanna love on you some,” He pulls on her wrist again, smiling almost shyly down at her naked form. Gently lowering her on top of the covers, he kisses her neck, gentle presses of his lips - every few seconds sucking down with a little more pressure in one spot, before moving to the next. He moves down Laura’s chest, one hand on her waist keeping her still, the other joining his mouth. He kisses across her breasts — capturing her nipple in his mouth, he wets it with his saliva, pulling back to blow his breath across it, Laura’s skin pebbling in response as she quivers. Her hands come up to tangle in his hair, and Elvis stills when she tugs just a little too hard - the sting sparkling down his spine. He pants against her, eyes closed as he rests his head on her chest, trying to regain any semblance of self-control so he could continue, his hands splayed across her stomach. The heat that had been building in Laura’s body all day is back with a vengeance, and already she can feel her heartbeat throbbing between her legs.

He presses little kisses down the soft folds of her stomach, and he grunts as he repositions himself up onto his knees. Laura takes a moment to drink in the sight of him - the way his hair is fluffed out from where her hands were just in it, the dark shadow that hints at stubble around his chin catching her attention, and below that a flush that matches hers colours his chest. She’s almost embarrassed at the little moan that slips out of her mouth as she follows, with her eyes, the thick patch of chest hair past his necklaces, and down, down his soft tummy before she rests them onto Little Elvis. Who’s already popped up to say hello, rosy and chubby. He takes her moment of stillness as his cue to go on and shifts one hand to tweak her nipple, the other going down to gently trail across her thigh. Laura gasps, urging him on. He dances his fingers across, hovering them over her until she’s about to beg. The moment his rough fingertip finally touches her she jolts, legs falling open even as her thighs clench.

“Oh Lord, you’re, you’re, Christ Lor, you’re ready for me already.” He strokes his finger up her wetness, adding a second to the mix to expertly spread her sticky folds. Laura tries to respond but all she can manage is a frantic nod as she struggles to find her words while Elvis busies himself with teasing her in little circles, dipping his finger in just the teeniest bit to gather more wetness and bring it back to circle almost directly on her clit. He’s got the same burning focus he does on stage, eyes blazing and his mouth open a little in concentration, pouty lips looking even more appealing in their bitten state. Laura’s eyes fall closed and she feels Elvis’ hand come back to her stomach, pinning her in place while his other plays with her, stilling her jerking hips a little. Laura doesn’t know what to do with her hands, but the problem quickly resolves itself when Elvis leans back to rub his wet hand over himself, before lining himself up and sinking into her hot, soaking, heat. Laura’s hands fall to grip at his shoulders, uncaring of her nails sinking into his delicate flesh.

“El-Oh, god, bit, bit of warning - next time, would be, ah, would be ni-ice.” She was ready but it didn’t stop her from feeling the stretch of him pushing into her. He pauses,

“You want, you want me to, fuck, come out?” He looks pained as he says it, and Laura grins,

“Christ no! Just, give me a-,” She wiggles a little, “No, no. It’s fine.”

“Yeah? You sure, honey? I don’t wanna - meant to be about you baby,” He says this, even as he can’t help but nudge further into her, his eyes begging her to say he can stay.

“Elvis. God, you can move.” He’s slow at first, barely rocking his famous hips, eyebrow quirking as he teases her.

“Yeah, baby? That - that what you wanted?” She groans, red-faced and sweaty,

“Elvis. Please.” It’s the magic word for a reason and he smiles before he concentrates again, his own eyes rolling back a little at the pleasure of it all as he builds up speed, rapidly fucking into her.

Laura rocks her hips into the air, legs shaking as Elvis brings his thumb down to rub directly over her clit, and their tight connection keeps her in precisely the right position even as her legs seem to flail. Her orgasm hits suddenly, and she falls off the precipice with a yell, mouth open and eyes wide as she catches sight of them both in the mirror, Elvis’ sweaty self-satisfied grin as he slows his fingers.

She shivers with the aftershocks, suddenly realising there were tears streaming down her face.

“Oh - Lord, what’s, ugh, what’s wrong baby, am I - am I hurting you?” He slows himself until he’s almost completely still, although, not totally. His voice strains with the effort of not moving, high-pitched, and Laura just shakes her head, “No - honey, I gotta know, you want me, you want me to stop?”

“No, no,” Laura sniffles, “‘s just, just a bit much - please Elvis, I want more.”

“Bit much?” Elvis takes her at her word and thrusts into her again,

“Just can’t get over you wanting me - ‘s just,” she moans, “just over, oh, overwhelming.”

“Baby, you feel what you do to me? What you done to me all day?” He pushes the hair from her face, staring down at her. She gazes back at him, glossy-eyed. “Awh, now baby, don’t look like that - you’re so pretty - Jesus, Lord, even,” He thrusts again, starting to fuck into her at a solid pace, “Even, fuck, even crying baby - makes your eyes all big, and your cheeks all rosy … god you look so fucking pretty.” He drags her even closer to him, his hands tight on her hips and waist, finger bruises being left - she babbles at him that he looks good too, pretty, and handsome and sexy. He doesn’t last much longer, maybe another thirty seconds before he’s shouting,

“Oh fuck, baby,” and his hips still, mouth falling open and his eyes rolling back as he groans. He collapses half on her, half on the bed and despite the almost overwhelming heat of him Laura welcomes the sensation of his heavy presence over her and the way he rubs his face on her shoulder. It should disgust her, the fact that he’s essentially covering her in his musk and sweat, but instead she finds it endearing, her pulse jumping in reaction to it. She kisses the top of his head and he responds by gently pulling out of her, rolling to one side. She tries to find it in herself to be brave, the afterglow making her bolder than she would normally be, but still not quite enough on her own.

“Can feel them cogs whirrin’ from here - did I not give you ‘nough attention?” He rolls over to face her. Laura shakes her head, taking a deep breath - it’s hard to have this conversation when she can literally feel his cum still sliding out of her, and she doesn’t know what she’ll do if he refuses.

“Elvis, can I - I want to stay here. Can I stay?” He pauses,

“For Christmas?” Laura frowns, starting to shiver at the cooling sweat and her stress at the discussion. Elvis tuts, rubbing her arm,

“Well, maybe? I mean I’d love to - if you’ll have me. But I mean, maybe that could - I’d really like to stay with you.” He hums, as if finally understanding what she’s getting at, there’s a long enough pause that Laura opens her mouth to say she didn’t mean it, explain that she was caught up in the emotions of the evening and she didn’t want to - honest, but Elvis beats her to it.

“Well, hon-ey,” He’s talking slower than normal, his southern drawl even more pronounced, “I don’t, I don’t see why not - I sure like having you around.” Laura turns to face him, finally,

“You mean it?”

“Wouldn’t say if I didn’t.” He says it sarcastically but he’s smiling softly at her and Laura grins,

“Oh! Thank you,” He strokes a circle against her arm, and she continues the only thing she can think in her mind that’s not just Elvis Presley agreed I could live with him is the next thing that comes falling out of her mouth, “I’m gonna need a thicker coat.” Elvis laughs,

“Baby, you wait ‘til Christmas - I’ll get you the warmest coat you’ve ever seen.” She smiles back laughing a little with relief, “Now, let’s get you warmed up again.” He rolls himself back over her and she giggles as he digs his fingers into her sides and his lips find hers once again.

—————

taglist!

@thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @lookingforrainbows @literally-just-elvis-fics @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @arrolyn1114 @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @18lkpeters @lettersfromvenus

#elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fanfiction #be-my-ally #fic rec!!#elvis x oc #writing prompt game #elvis-o-ween #elvis fanfiction #1972 elvis smut

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veryspacecowboy · 6 months

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Fic-O-Ween 2023!

Day 1: First Frost

Characters: Finn O'Hara

Ships: Finn O'Hara/Logan Tremblay/Leo Knut (referenced)

Rating: General/Teen

"Mornings are for running and contemplations", featuring an autumn run from the mind of Finn O'Hara.

@noots-fic-fests for the prompt, @lumosinlove for the lovely boy(s)

Enjoy! :)

Alarm at 4:30.

(Pull himself away from the glorious warmth and snugglyness that is his boys in their wonderful bed.)

Gather clothes and put them on in the bathroom.

Check weather. 44° in Gryffindor currently, with a high of 68° at 3:00 PM.

Water bottle. Earbuds. Phone, wallet, keys.

Head out at 4:50.

Turn on your tracker.

Run.

It was cold, colder than it had been all week. They'd had a bit of a second summer the week before and now it seemed winter was fast approaching, even with all the tourists coming to New England for all the gorgeous fall colors. If the weather continued like this, Finn would need a gaiter for his face by November 1st.

His shoes hit the pavement in his warmup mile to the BeeGees and ELO. He left behind their house-- their house oh my god they have a house together and a mortgage and a water bill-- and approached the park only a few blocks away. Picked especially for easy walks with future little ones. Across the sprawling grass, Finn noticed a silver sheen sparkling under the laplight as he ran along the swaying trail. First frost, October 19th, two days earlier than last year. He'd have to tell Logan when he got home, he and his sisters tracked that sort of thing.

Warm up mile.

Change playlist, then 5 more miles.

Pause and stretch, consider which cafe to stop at to pick up breakfast-- or did Leo have plans?

Decide to stop in at Java Hut during the cool-down mile on the way home to get coffees and pastries. Yum.

Remember to call Alex soon.

Give kisses to the boys.

Finn arrived home-- home!-- with caffeine drinks and treats and 10 miles done today and fished his keys out of his zipped jacket pocket.

Open the door and go inside.

#oknutzy #sweater weather #lumosinlove #finn o'hara #fic o ween #Fic-O-Ween 2023 #adhd finn is me and i am him

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violetfairydust · 7 months

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Countdown to Halloween

#22

....

“Are you really going to kill me off?” Derek crossed his arms. “I can’t believe this.”

“After everything he’s been through?” Stiles went on. He crossed his arms as well and stood next to his husband with a matching expression of disbelief. “Why can’t it be Isaac?”

Isaac spun around in the kitchen to send a glare at Stiles. He gave him a sarcastic smirk before he reached for the handle on the refrigerator. “Didn’t I go through enough in my life?”

“Did you lose most of your family?”

“I lost my entire family.”

Stiles scoffed under his breath. “You’re not Derek.”

#my fics #snippets #derek hale #stiles stilinski #isaac lahey #sterek #teen wolf #hale-o-ween #title: here for the boos

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itsaash · 6 months

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Hamptons Cubs: Midnight

Prompt credit to @noots-fic-fests and character credit to @lumosinlove!

Today we're back to the Hamptons featuring some boys just trying to figure it out

Rated M, 1900 words, Read on ao3, if you prefer

Finn didn’t know what to do with his heart. It was 8 sizes too big and yet felt like it was in a vice. He wanted to pull it out and put it on ice and turn it fucking down .

Logan was in his house. With Leo. Going into Leo’s bedroom with him after an awkward evening of talking about careers and apartments and absolutely not college.

Leo must have made himself dizzy from all the darting around his eyes were doing, between the other two men, who were dancing on conversational thin ice. Finn didn’t blame Leo for yawning and pulling Logan into his bedroom with a kind goodnight. Finn had retreated to his own room and tried to force himself to sleep, hoping it would all make more sense in the morning.

But all Friday Logan had been with Leo in the kitchen like an adorable snarky shadow, and god, they were so cute together. Between frittatas and pasta salad and paninis Finn saw Logan cleaning up behind Leo like he was made for it. He saw Leo laughingly take a steak knife out of Logan’s hand (that he was trying to cut peppers with) and guide him to the sink full of dishes instead, with a kiss to the curve of his neck that forced himself to walk away from watching.

Friday, Saturday, Sunday passed with Finn trying to work, trying to not see the extra love that was cooked into their meals with the presence of Logan being around Leo. His parents loved having someone new there and at any meal they ate all together it was easy enough to stay polite but quiet. To only see the love shimmering between Leo and Logan out of the corner of his eyes because to look at it full on felt like it would burn his retinas like the sun.

Logan and Leo .

On Sunday after a dinner of grilled local sausages, a green salad from the garden, and smashed potatoes, Finn grew the courage to offer to help with dishes. Missing the time he usually had with Leo felt like a gaping opening in his heart and so he shuffled into the kitchen and settled in at the sink, aiming for casual.

“Oh hey Finn, thanks sugar. You might want to leave that pan soaking for a bit yet, the meat got nice and stuck on there.”

“Sounds good Leo, happy to help,” Finn said, holding his hands under the running water for just a breath.

“Busy weekend? Seems like you had a lot of work to do,” Leo asked.

“Hmm? Oh, oh, yeah. I didn’t get done what I wanted to this week, so I was trying to catch up. I got put on a new book recently. It’s a really great project, but I’ve just kind of … stuck on it lately, for some reason.”

Reasons including: it’s hard to focus on editing when his mind wasn’t sure what year it was, was time travelling every time he looked up and saw Logan.

Leo nodded in understanding as he finished bringing the dirty dishes to the sink. He put away the leftovers in silence as they worked together for a while. Finn took a deep breath as he scrubbed the extra dirty pan.

“I’m guessing Logan told you all about how he saved me in that history class, huh?”

Leo propped a hip against the counter near Finn, relaxed with his arms crossed. “Well he was actually pretty sure you saved him, so I guess it sounds like you helped each other.”

Finn dropped the sponge and turned to Leo, his breath heaving.

“I’m sorry,” Finn blurted out.

Leo cocked his head to the side, eyes soft. “For what?”

“That I kissed your boyfriend,” Finn said in a rush, making it sound like all one word.

“Oh sugar, Finn, don’t apologise. It’s ok. It was ages ago, I didn’t even know him then.” He picked up a towel and started drying the cookware Finn had washed before continuing. “I’m actually really glad you had each other. It makes me happy to think about the two of you studying, helping each other out.”

Finn managed a half smile at the thought of his and Logan’s study session.

“Is it ok that we’re here, Finn? If it’s weird, it’s totally fine. We can head home for the week. You’ve been … quiet …. this weekend and we really aren’t trying to mess up your week.” Leo hesitated. “Not to get in the middle of it, but Logan did mention you might feel like he ghosted you. Or that maybe you feel some anger towards him?”

“No, no! Did he say that?” Finn ran both hands through his hair, getting it wet, and took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I don’t remember it that way. Please, stay. I was surprised, like shock and awe , like get me a fainting couch type surprised. And I think it made me seize up a bit. But I see the two of you are really happy, it’s so sweet. Please, stay. Have a fun week out of the city.” Finn turned and finished cleaning the last dish and dried his hands.

Leo smiled, towel moving slowly over the dish in his hand. “Thanks Finn. That means a lot to me.”

Finn nodded and turned, meaning to head upstairs. That was about as much of confronting this weirdness that he could handle for today. Logan might be back in from his conversation with his parents at any time.

“And Finn?” Leo called. He turned back, leaning against the wall, hip popped out, listening. “Don’t avoid us, okay? If you don’t want to? I promise there’s no hard feelings on our end.” Finn just gave a small smile and nod, but the worried look lifted, just a bit, before he turned to go upstairs.

~~~~~

Logan had been helping Leo and between frittatas and his pasta salad and peach pie they had been busy all weekend. Logan was so impressed by his boyfriend, was soaking up every moment of watching Leo in his element, and with a backdrop worthy of a postcard too. Leo had even let Logan peel the peaches and mix the salad, although mostly Logan cleaned and organised and prepared while Leo cooked.

But, Finn. Logan didn’t know what to think. The shock had faded somewhat in the past two days of helping Leo with meals. It was a busy gig, an easy distraction. But then he’d glance out the window and catch a glimpse of Finn’s red hair out the window, amidst the beautiful garden and sprawling lawn. And his heart would stutter and he’d forget where he was for a moment. He’d think of books and candles and highlighters until he looked at Leo. Then reality would spin itself around him again and he’d kiss his boyfriend on the cheek as he walked to the fridge to put something away and tried to live in the present.

Sunday night they sat outside to watch the sunset, it wasn’t fully dark until nearly 10, and they sipped their drinks and watched the colour fade from the garden and flowers and trees as colours bloomed across the sky instead. And then those faded too, and the stars started sparkling out of nothingness. They sat in loungers beside each other, gaze shifting from the horizon to the sky. Leo’s hand was still warm in his with blankets over both of them.

Logan turned his head from the stars to Leo, just as awed by the sight of his love, even in the dim light.

“So are we staying the week still?”

Leo hummed. “Yeah, Finn said he wants us to. You ok with it? It’s ok if you’re not.”

Logan took a moment to trace his eyes over Leo’s cupid bow as he collected his thoughts. “I still want to. It’s beautiful here, and I have some guilt about how I treated Finn, but really I have nothing but good memories of him.”

“Yeah? You ready to talk more about it?”

Logan took in the stars. Orion’s Belt, the Big Dipper, the sparkling dots that could tell any story, told them all. When he had gathered his thoughts from the spaces between the stars, he went on.

“It was just a few months. But it’s burned into my mind like when you close your eyes after looking at something too bright. Finn is … bright.”

Leo chuckled and nodded at that, Logan squeezed his hand three times.

“Really, we pretty much just studied. We were in the zone, essay writing and memorising,” Logan continued. “Then we went to a party, and we kissed.” He set his head back against the lounge chair. “And Le, it was such a good kiss. It was a long, beautiful, hot kiss.” Logan sighed. “And I think I said something like I’m not gay ? And then the semester was pretty much over, and I was scared, and I didn’t call for months. And when I did, his number had changed.”

Leo reached over and took Logan’s hand in both of his, running his thumb in circles.

“And I kissed boys after that, and slept with girls, and never felt a hint of the spark I had with him.” He turned his head towards Leo. “Until I met you, of course.” Logan turned onto his side and ran his fingertips down Leo’s cheek. “Remember? We talked, and ate, and when you kissed me, there were the sparks of sunshine filling every part of me.”

Leo smiled, and gripped his hand tighter. “I’m glad you had each other, love. That sounds lovely, and kind of really sad.”

Logan smiled a half smile. “I love you so much. Leo, you are the light of my life. I kissed Finn, one evening, years ago. Today, I’m with you and I want you .”

Leo smiled and they leaned across the small space between chairs to press their lips together.

“You want to stay?” Leo asked.

“Yeah, I do. Let’s have our little vacation, let’s relax, and eat, enjoy the scenery,” he said, waving a hand vaguely around at the dark.

Leo’s watch beeped, midnight.

They sat in the deep quiet for a minute, hands connected between the chairs.

“You told me once your first kiss with a guy had been in college. Was that Finn then?” Leo asked softly into the darkness.

“Oui, soleil, it was.” He made the move to forgo his chair in favour of joining Leo in his. He climbed on top of Leo, pressing them chest to chest. “You were my first everything else, though.”

He leaned down and pressed their lips together and Leo tilted his head up into the kiss.

“I tried with other people in college, but it was never right, never felt good, until it was you,” Logan peppered Leo’s face with kisses. The darkness hugged them as they kissed, making them feel like the only people in the world.

Logan pressed a deep kiss down to Leo's lips, leaving him breathless. Then he stood, one leg on either side of the chair, and pulled Leo’s body down the lounge chair until his hips were near the edge. His long legs sprawled off the end onto the soft grass. Logan backed up and dropped to his knees under the midnight bright stars. The grass was only darkness, but was soft under his knees, cool in contrast to the hard heat that was soon filling his mouth.

“I love this, I never get to make you come on Sundays,” Logan murmured against his skin.

Leo huffed a laugh, arching his back involuntarily. “I think it is Monday by now, baby, ahhh.”

Logan just hummed and swallowed in response.

Leo could hardly see Logan through the darkness, but the stars twinkling in the sky kept him company when stars sparked and exploded behind his eyes.

#o'knutzy #characters by lumosinlove #coast to coast #fic-o-ween 2023 #hamptons AU #midnight

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tea-moon-ster · 6 months

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Hello! Welcome to the fourth part of the Fantasy Magic Au (that still doesn't have a proper name!)

I think it's time for some québécois sprinkles. So, enter Logan.

Characters credits to @lumosinlove, prompt and hosting credits to @noots-fic-fests. read it on ao3 here.

It was a dark and stormy night.

Except that it was noon. And it was only raining slightly. Leo just read too many books.

But it was still a rainy day, with a strong wind coming from west that brought black clouds onto the Lion Shire. The forest waved and danced in the distance, a black and moaning mountain that did nothing to calm Leo’s nerves.

He had no idea where Roux was. He just knew that he was outside, and that an actual storm was coming that night. Roux never spent too much time outside with rain, and always made a point to come back during his longest wanderings, as if to tell Leo, see, I’m fine, don’t worry.

But Roux wasn’t coming back. And Leo didn’t know what to do.

That day, the cottage had been stormy even before the rain arrived. Leo woke up already tired, on the verge of tears for how little he’d slept that night. And Roux had been restless. For the weather or the birds outside or his own frustrations, growing with each day, Leo didn’t know. Then Leo had tried and failed another potion for Roux, with seaweed in it. Needless to say, it had been a fiasco and Roux had started hissing at it, before running outside and not coming back for hours.

Now.

Leo knew seaweed couldn’t taste good. And he knew that each fail made their cause feel more hopeless, useless, and pointless. It mustn’t have been easy for Roux to keep up with all the recipes, spells and incense baths Leo had put him through -or to trust Leo, still. Even more, the witch could see how disgruntled Roux would turn every time he caught himself behaving more and more like a cat. Truth was, he’d been in that body for months, and he was forgetting how to be anything else. That scared him more than all the failed attempts Leo threw on him.

Still, it had been hours. And he wasn’t coming back.

Leo tried to give him his own space, letting him have his well-owed existential crisis. Then he panicked and, with the excuse to go put a few protection spells on the oldest trees of the forest against the upcoming storm, he looked around for the cat. But nothing. He only gave up when the darkness became too engulfing even for his magic lantern and made his way back to the cottage. He felt silly for thinking that he would’ve found Roux waiting for him on their armchair.

Hours later, the storm was in full force, and Leo a nervous mess. He busied himself with potions, cleaning, cooking soups. He jumped at every small noise against the windows, already picturing a wet, red mass of fur and two big eyes looking up at him just like all those months ago. The memory made the weight on his chest even heavier.

Leo almost dropped the spoon in his hand when he heard knocking on his door.

He didn’t have the time to consider himself silly for thinking it could be Roux -cats don’t knock- as he reached the door in a few, long strides. But it could be a villager who’d found him or needed help. There could be damage caused by the storm, or the forest could be in danger. Instead, he found a man under a dark cloak -a traveler, then- trying to fit under his entrance and repair himself from the heavy rain.

“Yes?”

The stranger nodded from under the soaked cloak and, despite the storm, revealed his face to Leo. The witch didn’t say a word- he certainly didn’t expect to have his breath taken away by a pair of deep, green eyes. The vagabond squinted against the rain.

“Hello, I’m Logan.”

In the distance, a thunder rumbled, and Logan flinched.

“I’m looking for my friend.”

Leo tried not to stare too hard at the stranger in his living room. He was now engulfed in a warm towel, staring at the fire in front of him -or the soup heating on top, Leo couldn’t tell. The brown hair was curling more and more as it dried, and his cheeks were less pale, but he still flinched at every thunder.

When the soup was ready, Logan nodded a quick merci, and ate quickly. “Thank you,” he repeated once his bowl was empty. “Haven’t had a proper meal in days.” Leo filled it again, of course.

Logan emptied the bowl in silence, and Leo studied him as he looked around the room. The décor gave him away: a few cauldrons were stacked in a corner, and his pointy hat was hanged next to the window. Piles of books on the table, maps of the stars and the planets on the walls. The witch shifted on his chair. In this land, witchcraft was widely accepted -protected, even- but he knew that in foreign countries it was a controversial topic. That’s why he was so far from home. But the traveler didn’t seem bothered.

A tentative, kind smile made Leo relax in his chair. Logan was clearly exhausted, but the way he carried himself, the hesitant politeness, the endless nods at every scoop to let Leo know the soup was good, did more to the witch’s nerves than all the remedies he’d tried that day. Logan cleared his throat as he put the bowl down.

“I know the rules of hospitality say to take care of a stranger before asking any questions, but thanks anyway. Haven’t found this kindness in many miles.”

“You must be coming from the Slytherin kingdom, then,” Leo guessed, and Logan nodded. He didn’t look happy about it, but no one ever did. Leo had been at the border a few times, accompanying Kasey during his apprenticeship. It was a strange, cold land. And extremely dangerous, many said. Especially Kasey. He didn’t want Leo to go there on his own.

“Ouais,” Logan continued. “I’ve been travelling for two months now. I come from Krios Kepék, and I’ve crossed the lands of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. We’re still in Hogwarts now, yes?”

Leo nodded. “That’s a long way you’ve come.” He didn’t mean to push, but wanderers were rare, and Leo had never hosted one. Even if the rules stated that Logan now owed him his story, Leo could see how tired and worn out he was.

I’m looking for my friend.

“Yes,” Logan nodded again, looking down at the carpet. He traced the pattern with a socked foot. “Someone very important to me disappeared six months ago, and I still haven’t found any trace of him.”

“I’m sorry.”

The traveler shrugged. He took his time before continuing. “His name is Finn. He comes from my village, and we’ve been friends since I can remember. He’s in every memory I have, somehow, somewhere. He owns this bookshop with his brother, he loves books. They both do. His brother disappeared a year ago, and Finn was warned, because…well, we don’t exactly know what happened, but it’s said that dark magic was involved. That he upset someone. But Finn didn’t listen- of course he didn’t.” A frown was bothering his face now, green eyes fixed on the dancing flames.

“Was his brother a witch?” Leo asked softly.

“Is,” Logan corrected sharply. Leo bit his lip. Then Logan sighed, shaking his head. “No, no magic in their family. But he’s a writer, and he was doing research about witchcraft when he disappeared. Against the stigma, he said. But he did…he did see a witch, quite regularly. A native, who either visited or hosted him. But they were friends, worked together. No one would curse Alex if they knew him. And same goes for Finn.”

“Finn was trying to find his brother when he disappeared. Some—” he blinked rapidly, glancing down at his hands, “Some say he came too close to the truth. But no one would look too deep into it, not after two villagers vanished in so little time.” The traveler leaned towards the fire. Leo did that too, sometimes. When nothing would warm him, or heat was the only thing he was able to feel. “My…my family, our friends, they all told me to keep my head down. To keep working, worry in silence, stay safe. But after four months, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

A loud thunder, closer than the others, made Logan jump in his chair. Leo watched him close his eyes and inhale deeply. When green eyes slowly opened again, they were more tired than before. Leo didn’t have to look too deep to see the heartbreak in them. The fear, the sorrow. He wondered under how many storms had Logan walked, looking for his friend.

“There’s a guest room you can use for the night,” Leo murmured. And for the next, and the one after tomorrow. “I’ll get it ready for you. You really need some rest.”

Logan gave him another one of his polite nods, but before Leo could get up from his chair, a loud rumble made the windows tremble, and a firm grip stopped him by the wrist. The thunder echoed in the valley after a flash of white light. Logan was now breathing harshly, eyes shut in a deep frown and crouched on his seat, as if to make himself smaller against the storm. Leo immediately sat back down, taking both hands in his, and waiting for the boy to relax. When Logan did, his eyes were rimmed. From exhaustion, for his friend, the storm or being so far from home, Leo could only guess. He passed a reassuring thumb oh the back of a big, calloused hand.

“How about you help me fix the bed?” he asked softly. “And then we drink something hot to relax a bit.”

Logan looked up at him for a second before nodding. He got up with a deep breath, one last glance at the fire. He didn’t look like he would let go of Leo’s hand any time soon.

“Hot chocolate?” he asked hopefully.

Leo laughed quietly. “I have no cocoa in here, I’m sorry. But I have just the thing for you. No poison, I swear.”

Logan laughed too, and Leo decided to take it as his victory for the day. “D’accord. Lead the way.”

Outside the safe warmness of the cottage, the storm was still in full force.

Roux was still not home, and Logan’s friend was still lost.

But, as two pairs of hands flattened the blankets in the low candlelight, it was easier to think that even the darkest, rainiest days would pass.

#fic o ween 2023 #fic fest #lou's writing #o'knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #fic o ween #fic-o-ween

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