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#let elvis surprise you
hooked-on-elvis · 15 days
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"He was far more beautiful than his image." — Arlene Cogan, "Elvis: This One's For You".
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doll-elvis · 11 months
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For any of my fellow north american elvis fans that weren’t able to watch the new Elvis documentary on amazon, I have found a way to watch it 👀
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initially I wanted nothing to do with the doc but then I got nosy and tbh it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be but Alanna Nash was somehow worse than expected 😑
Here’s are the steps:
1. Download ExpressVPN through the app store
2. There are 2 options once downloaded: a free trial, or a one month subscription for $13. Personally I chose the one for $13 just because I always forget to end free trials and this one charges $99 afterwards😫
3. Once you have chosen either the free trial or the one month subscription follow the in-app instructions for the set up and once set up you are going to choose New Zealand as the location and then click the power button
(it should look like the first picture once activated and you will know it worked when it’s says “vpn” next to the WiFi symbol in the top left of your screen)
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4. After that, download the app TVNZ+ through the app Store which is a free tv show/movie site only available in New Zealand
5. You will have to make an account on TVNZ+ but it is free and only requires an email and a password
6. On the TVNZ+ app the documentary is called Elvis: Heartbreaker. I recommended not leaving the app while watching because the vpn’s connection can be sensitive and log you out, and then you will have to log back into the app which gets annoying 😭 (also just ignore any error notification that says for NZ residents only, just click out of it and continue logging in)
7. Since Alanna Nash is a spiteful nasty hag, I highly recommend skipping her speaking parts!! 😃
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bluerosefox · 6 months
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Ghost Marriage Allows More Than One!
Tim wakes up in a hotel room in Vegas snuggled against a chest but he wasn't surprised.
He had been in the Sin City for a WE meeting and had brought Bernard along the trip since Tim's birthday was just shy a few days into it and well he wanted to spend time with his boyfriend since most of his family were off world (Dick, Jason, and Bruce all had important missions and they all apologized for missing out and Tim couldn't blame them he understood and he himself couldn't get out of the Vegas meetings no matter what he tried to do.) Or couldn't come to join him (Damian had school as did Duke and Alfred was taking care of them while the others were gone. Steph and Cass were out of country working with some important things with Babs and again he understood.) (Did it still sting yes but they all promised to make it up when they got back, Alfred even promised a coffee cake just for him)
So yeah, Vegas meeting trip turned somewhat birthday fun with his boyfriend. And since Bernard has always been good with encouraging Tim to try things it came to no surprise that during their stay he had managed to convince Tim to try drinking for the night.
Yes terrible influence Bernard was sometimes, but he did make a point. Tim was an adult now and sometimes it's okay to at least try adult dumb stuff, he didn't have to like it and could stop if he really didnt want to but he can at least say he tried it once. That it was okay for Tim to let go of his vigilante brain and just have fun in the one city that was made for it.
So try Tim did. Just for the night.
So yeah, Tim wasn't really surprised when he woke up the next morning, alcohol aftertaste on his breath, head pounding, nose scrunched up from the light of the sun peeking in from the curtains, and snuggling himself into a rather chilly chest...
Wait...
Chilly?
Tim opened his eyes when he realized that. Bernard never felt cold to Tim when they would snuggle, no he was always warm, like a warm heating blanket. It was why Tim loved snuggling him. Why was he-
Tim's eyes widened when he saw not blonde hair on the body in the bed with him but black hair. He almost flung himself off the bed from him startling awake and watched the one he had been snuggled next to mumble in his sleep and turn over.
Tim felt pure dread as he continued to stare, his stomach turning as his thoughts got bad, oh god..God... did he... oh no, no, no no. Oh where was Bernard- FUCK did he really-
Tim flinched when he heard a door open and snapped his eyes towards it. He felt his mouth go dry when he spotted his boyfriend coming out of what was the bathroom of the room and had just finished taking a shower from the sounds of left over dripping water and from the towel he was using to clean his hair.
Bernard stopped in his spot when he noticed Tim staring at him before he gave Tim a very uneasy chuckle, his eyes darting towards the sleeping body on the bed "H-Hey, good morning T. I see you... uhh seen our guest."
Tim felt ready to cry, to beg for forgiveness, but the only sound that came out was a strangled sound because of course he fucked up and ruined one of the best things that ever happened to him and-
But before he could spiral further into his anxiety and dread Bernard kept speaking.
"So ummm. Do you also remember meeting Danny at the bar, getting really tipsy, hanging out, having fun and then like going to a ghost bar with him so he could really drunk because he's like half ghost. And I mean like a legit ghost bar, like we saw Elvis and Marilyn Monroe there and they were like floating. Then we all got like super mega drunk and then... maybe kinda sorta got ghost married... because ghost marriage allows unlimited spouses cause you know, already dead doesn't matter and it's also almost permanent cause again the whole dead thing... Or did I hallucinate all that last night and we just brought in a random stranger to bed?" He asked his voice unsure as he looked between Tim and the stranger Danny in bed before lifting his hand up and showing Tim a glowing ring on it. "I'm pretty sure I didn't dream it up because I kinda woke up with this, and it refuses to come off."
Tim went silent for a moment, wide eyed as he stared back at Bernard before the pounding headache he had hit him harder than ever when the very memories of everything Bernard had said came flooding back to him. With a gasp Tim quickly looked st his own hand and sure enough on his finger was a matching glowing wedding band on it, his eyes snapped towards Danny... Danny Nightingale? Or was it Phantom? said his name was and spotted another matching one as well.
"B is going to kill us." Was the only thing Tim could muster up to say.
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thegettingbyp2 · 2 months
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Austin butler x reader
Reader and Austin are married and Austin does his first interview as a married man and tell them about how he met the reader and there love story plus maybe to add to the cuteness he announces that he is also gonna be a father
A Lot of Changes
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You were sitting front row in the audience, waiting for Austin, your husband, you walk onstage. He was currently in the middle of the press tour for Masters of the Air but this was his first interview since your wedding and you knew that he was going to be asked about it. You looked down at your hand, smiling when you saw the dainty gold band that was now sitting on your ring finger before being jolted out of your thoughts when you heard the rest of the audience applause as Austin walked on stage.
He’d spoken about Masters of the Air for about fifteen minutes before the interviewer changed the topic. ‘So, we’ve seen on your lovely girlfriend, no, your lovely wifes Instagram a couple of wedding photos,’ he said, causing Austin to smile softly, looking down at his ring before lifting his head, his eyes finding yours instantly and his smile growing. ‘How was it?’
‘One of the happiest days of my life,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I’d been ready to propose pretty much a week after we started dating so it’s been a long time coming but it was so worth it. We got married in this big stately home and she looked so beautiful,’ he said, his voice trailing off as he found you once again in the audience.
‘You were ready to propose after a week? And how long had you been dating before the wedding?’
‘So, we met when filming began again for Elvis after lockdown and she was wandering around the set, offering to get coffees for everyone. I’d noticed that she started doing that pretty much every day so one morning when I heard that she was making her rounds, I decided to go and get her a coffee and surprise her. The only downside is I now have to get her coffee every morning,’ he joked, making everyone else in the studio laugh.
‘And how did you propose?’
‘Well, I wanted to make this big deal of it, I had a plan where I’d booked a couple of days off work and I was going to take her out on a date, you know, really try to woo her. And then because we were in Australia, we were going to spend a couple of days in Sydney and on the last evening I was going to take her to a show at the Opera House, she’s always wanted to go and I was going to propose after the show, by the water. It didn’t really turn out like that, I jumped the gun a bit and our trip to Sydney ended up being a bit of an engagement-moon kind of thing,’ Austin explained, laughing softly. You smiled to yourself as you remembered the night, about a year and a half ago now.
You were waiting in Austin’s trailer for him to finish filming, curled up on the sofa with a film playing softly on the TV. You’d spent the day packing a couple of bags for you and Austin after he’d surprised you this morning by telling you that he was taking you to Sydney for a long weekend. The sound of the door opening made your head turn in the direction of the sound and you smiled tiredly as you watched Austin walk in.
‘How was filming?’ you asked softly when he came and sat down on the sofa next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing heavily.
‘Long,’ he replied, the end of the word being cut off slightly by a yawn and you moved your arms to wrap around him, tangling your fingers in his hair and scratching lightly. ‘That feels amazing,’ he murmured, his eyes closing as he let his weight lean onto yours more.
‘Well, you don’t have to go back onto that set for the next few days. We’re going on holiday and I don’t want you even thinking about work for the whole time we’re away, you hear me?’ you asked, tilting his head to face you. As soon as his eyes were on yours, his body relaxed and he leaned in to give you a quick kiss before groaning against your lips.
‘I still need to pack, I was going to on my break earlier but I completely forgot. I won’t be long and then we can go.’
‘I’ve packed your bags for you, they’re on the bed with mine so we’re good to go whenever you’re ready. I didn’t know what kind of things you wanted to take so I’ve packed some hoodies as well that you might - ’
‘Marry me.’
His words cut you off straight away and you pulled back slightly, keeping your arms around his neck, to look at him. ‘What did you just say?’ you asked as Austin moved to sit more upright on the sofa, hooking your legs over his arms and pulling them across his lap, trying to pull you closer to him. He leaned in closer, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at you.
‘Marry me,’ he repeated softly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. ‘I had this big plan where I was going to take you to the Opera House and propose while we were away but I couldn’t wait.’
‘But I’m in ratty sweatpants, one of your hoodies, this isn’t the time to propose to someone! I mean, I look - ’
‘Perfect. You look perfect ,’ he said, grinning at you now as he tugged you even closer, until your nose was brushing against his. ‘So, what do you say? Will you marry me?’
‘Will we still get to go to the Opera House?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, laughing.
‘Then yes!’ you exclaimed, pulling him in for a kiss.
When Austin had finished recounting the story of his proposal, the studio erupted in applause and you couldn’t stop the blush from rising in your cheeks. ‘And how has married life been treating you?’ the host asked, grinning at Austin.
‘Incredible, we had our honeymoon in Spain and since being back, everything’s just felt so right and amazing and there’s a lot of changes going on at the minute so it’s terrifying but so exciting at the same time.’
‘What kind of changes are you making?’
‘Well, uh,’ Austin chuckled nervously, his hand running along his thigh as he adjusted his seat and looked over at you, looking for permission. Smiling back at him, you nodded gently. Austin grinned back at you before turning back to the host. ‘We’ve been changing one of the guest rooms in the house into a nursery. About three months ago, we found out that we’re going to be parents.’
The applause that followed was deafening and you and Austin couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction, neither of you knowing what you were expecting. Once the applause had died down, the host wrapped up his interview with Austin. Austin thanked him and stood. Instead of heading off of the set, he made his way over to you, sitting on the floor in front of you and grabbing your wrists, draping your arms around his neck.
‘You were amazing up there,’ you murmured into his ear, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head as his fingers absentmindedly began to play with yours.
‘Thank you, baby,’ he replied, craning his neck around to look at you, nothing but love in his eyes. ‘How are you guys doing?’
‘We’re just fine,’ you said, smiling warmly at him, ‘the amount of interviews you’ve got lined up over the next couple of months, they’re going to know just how big their daddy is before they’re even born.’
Austin tilted his head backwards until your face was upside down in his eyes. ‘I love you. Both of you.’
You leaned down to quickly peck his lips before moving your hands to cup either side of his face, running your thumbs along his cheeks. ‘We love you too. Now, be quiet, we’re trying to listen to the rest of the show.’
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literaila · 6 months
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"i don''t wanna get you sick"
from either reader or peter (sorry if you've already written a fic like this)
where’d you get your medical degree
tasm!peter x fem!reader
warnings: the ask says it all.
a/n: in lieu of sick season. and because of many illnesses (such as writers block, and insanity) which are preventing me from writing anything serious
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*
“no,” you whine, pushing him away. “don’t touch me.”
peter is looking down at you with an incredulous look on his face. his hair is loose and his eyes are close, and he’s unbelievably pretty. like you have to blink a few times, just to make him appear normal—and a little less blurry.
you think he’s smiling too, but you can’t really see it. you might be dreaming.
“is there any particular reason why not, bub?”
his hands near you again, cold fingertips on your jaw, around your head. you groan and move your face away from them—even though it feels wonderful.
“i don’t know where those hands have been.”
peter snorts. “trust me,” he says, tilting your head back to him, “you do.”
your stomach turns, and suddenly his hands are a saving grace, so you grab both, holding them to your cheeks.
“change your mind?”
“cold,” you sigh, leaning as close as you can get to him.
“you’re burning, love, and not the elvis kind.”
you shake your head, eyes closed. “not funny,” you mutter.
“can you look at me real quick?”
you moan and close your eyes even tighter. “i’m tired, peter. come back when we’re open.”
“just let me see those pretty eyes and then you can sleep. i’ll even get you some comfier clothes. and some water.”
you move your legs around, feeling the stiff polymer pants you wore today, assuming that you wouldn’t be halfway to death by 3pm.
“how bout some ice cream?” you ask, opening one eye.
it is not lost on you that peter is trying to flirt with you. or that he’s frowning.
“your pupils are big,” he says, concisely. “did you get drugged?”
you giggle, moving away from him, his fingertips suddenly ticklish. “yes, from my computer,” you grin at him, closing your eyes again. “at my office job.”
“okay, stoner, what medicine did you take?”
you frown. “none.”
peter is frowning back. you can feel it. but you’re not going to open your eyes, just in case he’s suddenly brushed his hair or something. put on mascara. who knows what lengths peter would go to surprise you.
“wait,” you hold a finger up. “whatever’s in my bag, i think. i took it at work.”
peter sighs, patting your leg before he moves about the room, looking for a purse you must have lost.
you actually can’t really remember how you got home in the first place.
“if your fever gets any worse, we’re going to the doctor.” peter says this from across the room, and you’re pretty sure he’s not even talking to you. “here. this is just acetaminophen. how long ago?”
your face is pushed into the pillow beside you. it smells like peter, so you keep it there.
“loopy, can you just answer this one question?”
“the pillow is speaking to me.”
peter puts a hand on your back. “i am so sure you’re on drugs,” he says, almost adoringly. “the pillow is telling you that you need to clean up. trust me, we’re close. let’s get you into pajamas and then i’ll find you some stuff.”
you don’t move. maybe you didn’t hear him.
“bub,” he says, a bit louder, sterner. “c’mon, it’ll only take a sec.”
“not moving.” your voice is muffled. “ever.”
“how am i supposed to kiss you, then?”
you turn and peek out at him, lip curling at the mention. and then you cough. “you cant kiss me. i’m sick.”
“it’s disappointing that you think that would deter me.”
“if you’re sick how are you supposed to take care of me?”
“i’ll always take care of my baby,” he swears, leaning into you. if you were of right mind you might realize he wants a kiss. you might realize what you want.
but you only nod approvingly, and then smush your face back into his pillow.
peter groans. his hand moves to the back of your head, and he massages your scalp for a moment. “i know those clothes aren’t comfortable,” he pulls at your tight blouse, the one you wear when you want to feel good about yourself and you don’t mind neglecting to breathe. “even though it looks good on you. you’re sweating through it.”
your muffled voice returns: “do i smell?”
it’s a miracle that peter can understand anything you’re saying. “just like you,” he sniffs, “and maybe a bit like coffee? did you spill something on yourself?”
you don’t move. just hum into the pillow, hacking up a lung into it.
peter shakes his head. “i’m gonna need to wash that. up, baby. a shower would help your sinuses, but we’ll change if you’re tired.”
“baby,” you giggle to yourself.
“yes, baby, because you have de-aged significantly in the past hour. do i have to carry you to the closet?” his voice is teasing, but you’re not really sure that you can hear anything.
you finally turn, sitting up so you can look at peter. “am i being difficult?” you ask him, worriedly. your skin has shifted colors, and your voice is more like rock on rock. but you still frown at peter. “i’m sorry. you don’t have to do anything. i can change.”
but as you say it you double over in a coughing fit, and while you can feel peters hand on your back, you’re almost worried he’s already left.
“don’t be ridiculous,” he whispers when you’re silent again, swallowing. “i like taking care of you. though, i’m not loving that cough. do you need some water?”
you look at him, checking his eyes for something that you’d never be able to recognize in this state. and finally you nod, silent.
peter kisses your forehead and leaves for the kitchen.
you sit there, trying to keep your back perfectly straight. even through the overwhelming urge to lay back down in the bed and suffocate in the blankets.
you really just want to smell that pillow some more.
your head is pounding, and you try to remember if you even took that medicine in the first place. how long you’ve been sitting there. if peter even took your temperature in the first place.
but peter is back before you figure it out. “here,” he hands you a glass of water, watching you with narrowed eyes. “drink all of it.”
“i’m not thirsty.”
he glares at you and you smile, sipping on the water.
he smiles back, sitting down next to you and feeling all over your face with his hands. “what’s the status report?”
“still sick, but my mental capacity is coming back.”
“oh good,” peter says, leaning back but not letting go of you. “i was worried when you didn’t laugh at my elvis joke.”
you snort and lean right back into him, your head against his chest. he smells a lot better than cheap cotton.
“sorry ‘bout your pillow,” you cough out, leaning away from him suddenly so you don’t spit in his face.
“it’s fine. i enjoy a little snot with my sleep.”
“gross, peter.”
he grins down at you, kissing the top of your head again, because he is beyond adorable. then he sombers, still staring, carefully evaluating you. “do you want some more medicine? i think we’ve got some cold stuff in the cupboard.”
“the sleepy kind?”
“probably. take some of that. do you want to shower?”
“not really,” you say, letting him hold your head up. “i’m a little dizzy.”
peter frowns at you. “i’d make sure you don’t fall,” he offers.
“that’s okay,” and then you, once again, hack up some mucus in front of his face and sigh pathetically into your own hands.
“how about some tea? for your throat?” his hand moves yours away, brushing the hair out of your face.
“peter, it’s okay.”
you kiss his hand and push it away.
“the teas okay?” he frowns. “as in yes?”
“i’m okay,” you repeat, shaking your head at him. “you don’t have to do anything else. i’m fine.”
“you’re sick,” he corrects.
“i’m a big girl. i just need a nap. i’m probably not even sick.”
you emphasizes this point by choking down a cough, making your eyes water.
peter raises a brow.
you smile, tightly. “i’m just gonna go change now—“ you stand up, and then fall back down. your head spins as you feel peters hands wrap around your waist, his lips pressed against the side of your temple.
“just let me help,” he whispers, into you. “i’m not busy.”
“you had a long day.”
“i just want to cuddle with you anyway. i can take a few extra steps—like making you tea and getting you medicine.”
you shake your head. “i can do it.”
“i miss high you,” peter sighs. “c’mon, bub, stop being stubborn.”
you frown. “you’re the stubborn one. go swing and save someone else,” you tell him. “i just need a nap.”
“then i’m napping with you.”
you tilt your head back, groaning, and regretting it immediately when there’s a sharp stab in the front of your eyes.
peter kisses your now exposed neck, moving his hand so it keeps your head still. “you probably need to go to the doctor.”
“don’t be dramatic.”
peter scoffs. “you’ve got a fever of 103 degrees. i’m not dramatic.”
“i think i missed the era where you got your medical degree.”
peter scowls at you, pushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes and making sure you can see his conviction to never ever let this go. “it’s called webmd. it’s a wonderful place.”
“peter,” you whine, trying to push him away.
“baby,” he whines back, but smiles as he picks you up, like a literal baby, making sure not to jostle your head. “pajamas. what do you want to wear? and what’s the verdict on the tea?”
you sigh and lean your head into his neck. you don’t appreciate this, but it’s hurting to keep your eyes open. you cough into him, muffling yourself from the world. “can i wear your shirt?” you say, softly.
peter smiles like he’s won the lottery. you can feel it against your head. “yup,” he pops, “but it’ll cost you.”
“what?” you ask, sniffling.
“a kiss.”
he pecks your cheek, then your nose, and carries you away.
*
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fangirl-dot-com · 5 months
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Chapter 10 - See ya next year Vegas
Holy heck, what was that race?? I almost had a heart attack multiple times. Surprise surprise, I am a Charlie fan through and through, and I haven’t witnessed him win a race yet (I became a fan right after Zandvoort this year). I would have loved to see him win. Oh well, there’s always next year (I’m crying on the inside). BUT THE OVERTAKE ON THE LAST LAP WHAT THE HECK I WAS IN TEARS. Also, I felt so bad for Lando, that impact seemed huge and I’m glad he’s ok! But here’s a chapter about Max’s 1837460382nd win this season.
The air of the track was buzzing with excitement. And so were you, for mostly the wrong reasons. You were currently hiding behind some tires, trying not to be spotted. You even thought that pulling the hood over would help you blend in better. Without you knowing, Max was staring right at you, trying to figure out what the heck you were doing. 
He was dressed in almost the same outfit that you had worn back on Thursday. You constantly teased him about the stark white race suit. You mentioned that you should have worn your outfit again, so that you could sneak into his car and race for him. He politely declined, saying that the team would have to pay a huge fine and they could not afford to go over the cost cap for next year, before it even started. You grumbled, but begrudgingly showed up in a Red Bull jacket and some shorts. 
Max decided to go talk to you, but not before he took a quick picture. He would never admit to already having an album on his photo app dedicated to you. He stomped over and tapped you on the shoulder. When he did, you let out a squeak, body doing a full screenshot. 
“Max! That was not nice!” You pouted and crossed your arms, before your eyes widened when you looked over his shoulder. You quickly turned away, but not before grabbing Max’s Elvis suit and pulling him closer to the tires. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Hiding.” He deadpanned and rolled his eyes. 
“I can see that. But why?” 
“Uh, well, you see. There’s uh…” You got cut off when Christian showed up right behind Max. He tapped Max and it was his turn to take a full body screen shot. He yelped and turned around, a snicker escaped from your lips. 
“Is there a reason both of my drivers are horribly hiding in the tires?” He put his hands on his hips. Total dad stance, but you would never say that to his face. Your cheeks heated up at the thought of being outed about how bad you were at hiding. 
Max turned to Christian, “Well, before you interrupted, she was about to say something.” The two men peered down at you and you lowered your eyes. 
“Uh, so, you know, there are a bunch of celebrities here. And there’s one I’ve always wanted to meet, but, you know…celebrity crush? Is that the right word?”  
You thought the Brit and Dutchman would start laughing at you, but they didn’t. They looked around the garage, trying to find the source of your embarrassment. Christian was thinking of how he could get you to go speak to said person. Max on the other hand, was wanting to get rid of the threat.
You gasped, “Ben Barnes is not a threat Maximillian!” You got a couple of looks from around the garage before you stepped closer to Max, not wanting to be seen. 
“One, that is not my name.” 
“Yes it is.” 
The two of you started to argue, and missed the fact that Christian had stepped away to go talk to the actor. They said a few words before Christian invited him into the garage. You and Max were still deep in the childlike banter, that you didn’t even realize that Ben and Christian were getting closer. 
“Ah, here is our lineup for the 2024 season. I believe that we have one of the finest drivers,” Christian put an emphasis on his words, trying to get his two “children” to stop fighting. You froze when you made eye contact with Ben. 
Max turned around and gave him a pained smile. If there was one thing he hated more than regular celebrities, it was celebrities that seemed to only come for a sponsorship and to actually not watch the race. You however, were completely enamored. Max wouldn’t go as far to say that your eyes were sparkling, but with all the lights, they basically were. 
“Hi, it’s very nice to meet you,” Ben said as he raised a hand for you to shake. You didn’t say anything and took his hand. Max elbowed your side and you glared up at him. 
“It’s uh, very nice to meet you too,” you paused, “I’m sorry about your show. I was really rooting for Netflix to renew it.” 
“Ah, so you’re a fan?” Ben smirked, Max did not like that. 
You scratched your neck, “You could say that.” You gave him a schoolgirl grin, Max did not like that. Max stood straighter and pretended to hear something. 
“Ah, that must be Mitch Y/n. I think she’s calling for you. Sorry man, but we need to get going,” Max draped an arm around you and maneuvered your body to where it was on the other side of him as you walked passed. 
You quickly said goodbye to Ben, before you walked with Max. 
Glaring at the driver, you said, “Mitch did not call me. What are you on? Do you need to get your ears checked grandpa?” 
Max huffed. “I did not like the way he was looking at you.” 
Your heart almost melted, but it was replaced with annoyance. “Max, the man is 42. He’s old enough to be dad.” 
“Still. I didn’t like it.” 
“Aw you big softie,” you gave him a hug, before smirking and whispering, “although I wouldn’t mind being an unconventionally young wife.” You unlatched yourself and ran to the other side of the garage, where Mitch actually was. 
Max looked like he was having an aneurism before he shook his head. “Kid!” 
You managed to evade Max’s anger by pinky-promising him that you won’t get married anytime soon, especially to actors who are old enough to be your dad. 
The garage had a quick pre-race briefing before the drivers were called to get in the car. You stood next to Mitch, race headphones around you ears. 
The lights blinked and off they went. You internally cringed as you watched Max “push” Charles off the track. You knew he’d be pissed, because that definitely meant that there was a penalty coming. GP alerted Max that he’d be given a five second penalty. His response made you laugh.   
His voice was rattly, “That’s ok. Send the stewards my regards.” Of course Max would say that. Your attention was redirected at the sight of one of the McLarens crashing into the barriers. You saw the sparks and just hoped that either Oscar or Lando was ok. 
When Lando spoke up, you heart dropped for him. You saw how excited he had been, especially since it was his birthday week. 
The race was very interesting. Most of the teams were pulling the one-stop wonder. It was smart to have Checo pit later so that his and Max’s tires would be newer than Charles’s. You were able to click some buttons to keep up with the race. 
By the end, you were biting your fingernails. Charles was in Checo’s DRS zone and you knew he was going to make the pass. You were sad that Ferrari had such a good driver, but didn’t know how to use him. 
Cheers erupted from the garage as Max crossed the finish line, Charles right on his tail leading Checo behind him. This was really a race to remember. You were still watching the screen when Christian came up behind you. 
“Kid?” 
“Yes sir?” You took your headphones off. He beckoned you with his finger over to a different area. 
“How would you like to go get Red Bull’s trophy for us?” Your eyes lit up and you nodded. Your nerves were suddenly shot with anxiety and excitement. You knew you had a couple of minutes because the Max Verstappen Pod Cast turned into Carpool Karaoke. Mitch was able to give you some pants because it was chilly everywhere except the heated garage. 
You were led to a small waiting room and were told to stay there until someone would come get you. You took out your phone and scrolled through Instagram. When you heard Max’s voice, you quickly put your phone away. 
Max’s eyes brightened at the sight of you seemingly waiting for him. 
“How was the Max Verstappen Podcast on wheels?” you asked as he brought you into a hug. 
“For the last time, it’s not a podcast.” 
There were crickets from you, Charles, and Checo. Max huffed before he took a sip of his water bottle. You looked over to Charles as he also took a sip from his water. 
When you made eye contact, you said, “That was a pretty sweet overtake. You think you can teach that to Arthur next season?” You laughed and so did he. 
Charles raised his eye brows before replying, “We will see. You think he has a shot?” You were able to walk over to him since Max was currently Maxsplaining to Checo, who looked confused and bored as ever. 
“Yeah, he just has to remember which pedal is the throttle. The dude seems to forget often.” 
Charles joined in, “I know right. It’s like his strategist has to remind him where it is. And don’t get me started on his breaking.” 
You cringed at the thought of Arthur’s breaking habits. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.” Soon yours and Charles’s hands started moving, just like Max had been a few minutes earlier. The two of you completely missed the way that Max was staring at the two of you. His kid and his emotional support rival. 
“Hey kid. Why are you here?” Max questioned. 
Your eyes sparkled. “I’m getting the Red Bull trophy!” Your grin filled your face. 
Max was about to say something, but a steward came to get the four of you. You went one by one, you following Checo, standing on the far side. 
The Dutch national anthem begin to play, and you found yourself swaying. Anyone who said it wasn’t a bop were clearly lying. You couldn’t wait to hear your anthem play. You’d join the select few rookies who gets to win a race during their rookie year. But, most importantly, you’d be the first female to do everything. First points, first podium, first win…first championship. You’d do it all. You were hungry for it. 
After the anthems ended, they brought out the trophy for Max, along with his medal. The next person, who happened to be Patrick Dempsey, handed the trophy to you. You were starstruck as you shook his hand. When you were done, you stared at your hand. Your hand was now blessed by the hand of the sexiest man alive. You would never wash your hand ever again. You quickly raised the trophy and the fans roared. 
You could get used to this. 
The crowds were loudest though for Charles and he deserved it. You knew he was going through a drought and you just wished that next year would be it for him. But you also hoped that Max would also win. But you knew that if Max lost to anyone, he’d be glad it was Charles. 
The celebrations were the most fun. This this wasn’t your first podium, you quickly shook the bottle. Your pop wasn’t as impressive as Lando’s fountain, but you had a fun way to get it out quickly. Hauling it over your shoulder like a bazooka, you shook it and aimed it at the three drivers. Max laughed when he saw how you held it, and pointed his own bottle at you. 
You looked over at Charles and winked at him, hoping that he got the signal. His wink (blink) let you know that he did. He “tiptoed” over to Max and dumped the rest of his champagne on his head. Max was not ready to drown in it and quickly turned around, shooting it at Charles. He tried to run away, but Max followed him. Sadly the streams of the liquid died down as the bubbles went away. Your hair was a sticky mess, but you didn’t care. 
Over at the front, you saw this giant red button. You turned to Max, “Hey! What does this button do?” 
Max shrugged, Charles shrugged, Checo shrugged, you shrugged. And your hand landed on the button. 
Fireworks exploded from the top of the nearby building. You were instantly illuminated with the red, blue, yellow, green, and white lighting. With firework reflections in your eyes, you closed them, trapping them in the depths of your eyes, trying to memorize every detail. 
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Max's story
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Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon
I will reply to your comment if I was unable to tag you!
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wolfiesmoon · 3 months
Text
Countless nights
Malleus x gn!reader
i felt like writing something super cute and lovey dovey and basic after listening to can't help falling in love by elvis presley so here we are lol😌🩷
this is nothing revolutionary that hasn't been done before just so much fluff you'll throw up a furball (made of fictional fluff) by the end
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There are many a night which he spends thinking of you.
Lilia had told him about it, a long long time ago. How your chest would tighten, how your face would become warm, how your heart would flutter when gazing at the person you're in love with. But he never imagined that it could feel this amazing, this freeing, this beautiful.
There are many moments he thinks of on these nights...
You run up behind him, yelling the silly little nickname he's grown to love hearing fall from your lips.
He turns around, grinning at the sound of your voice. Truly, you are a sight for sore eyes. Your little furry companion is with you, too, dozing off in your arms.
"It's so nice to see you in the hallways for once." you realise that you mostly see him in front of your dorm when he randomly shows up. Because of that, you kinda forgot that he's also a student at the school and takes classes as well.
"Likewise. It's always a pleasure to see you." He didn't say anything presumptious, so why are you making that excited face all of a sudden? Now he feels giddy.
A silence falls between you.
"Ahaha... Um... I actually have no idea what to talk about... I kinda just ran to you after seeing you..." you admitted awkwardly.
That is... very comforting to hear. All you need is the sight of him to want to be by his side. The warm feeling spreading across his body is very welcome.
He wants to hear you say that sentence over and over, but greed is not a good quality to bear, so he'll settle with hearing it only once.
"Then I suppose you wouldn't mind listening to me talk? Do you happen to be partial to gargoyles?" He takes the opportunity to talk about the passion no one seems to share with him. He's fully expecting you to say no and change the topic, and he wouldn't blame you at all in some regard. He's well aware most humans don't take interest in something as specific as gargoyles.
"I never really thought much about them before. But sure, tell me about it." you actually look really interested, waiting for him to start.
He smiles.
Oh, he just can't help falling in love with you.
.
"Did you hear about that new ice cream place that opened in town recently?"
When you asked him if he could spare 2 hours of his day just for the two of you yesterday, he was certainly not expecting you to open with this.
"Lilia told me you like ice cream, and I was pretty curious about the taste myself." you wonder to yourself if there's any funny flavours you wouldn't find in the human world. If so, you're definitely trying them out.
"So, uhhh... wanna go try it with me?"
You don't even realise how happy you've just made him. He has to hold back the wide smile that threatens to spread across his face.
"Hahaha, you're so strange... Though I certainly wouldn't mind." You seriously just want to... hang out with him? What a pleasant surprise, indeed. It makes his heart beat with excitement.
"Let's go!" you start running down the hill to get to town, excited to share ice cream with him.
.
"Aw man, it's almost impossible to choose." you're contemplating between three different flavours at the moment.
"Shall I choose for you, then?" Malleus suggests. He already picked the flavour he wants and is waiting for you to make your choice. Not that he's annoyed by that. The longer you take, the more minutes he can spend by your side. How greedy of him.
"Go ahead." you sigh defeatedly. You're truly thankful he can put an end to the awkward situation of you just staring between 3 different flavours for like, 2 whole minutes now. You're creating a line behind you, no doubt.
"You should get the strawberry flavour." Malleus recalled a story of Lilia's in which he told him that strawberries are a symbol of love in a country he visited. He feels a bit cheeky, sneaking a subtle hint in like this.
"Uh, sure! I'll have one scoop of strawberry!" you raised an eyebrow slightly at his satisfied smile. Why is he smiling now, of all times?
If he's happy, you're happy, you suppose.
The two of you decided to walk around town while eating the ice cream. It was a nice change of scenery.
You were telling Malleus about a funny potionology mishap you had with Grim and Ace today when someone bumped into you, making you lose grip of the ice cream.
It fell splat on the ground, making it no longer edible.
"Oh come on..." you looked down at the wasted ice cream sadly. It was really good, too.
"I can return it to its original form, do not worry." Malleus suggested, already about to do it when you gently grabbed his wrist. His eyes widened slightly and a strange tightness enveloped his chest.
"No need. Just hanging out with you is enough. Enjoy the ice cream for the both of us." you're really fine with just watching him. He seems very happy when eating ice cream, which you can't get enough of.
"...If you wish." he felt his whole being warming up at your sweet words.
Oh, he just can't help falling in love with you.
.
"Child of man. What is the meaning of this?" his expression darkens when he sees your fingers wrapped in bandages.
"Of wha- Oh, you mean my bandages? It's, uhhh, a bit embarrasing. And also a suprise." you hid your hands behind your back, not wanting him to worry about them too much.
"Tell me." he looked quite scary in this moment, almost like he was ready to kill. Is he really that worried over it? It kinda makes you feel giddy.
"It'll ruin the surprise, I'm just saying." you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. His terrifying gaze didn't falter however, so you gave up.
"Roses are really important symbols in Briar valley, so I've heard. So I kinda wanted to give you a hand-picked rose boquet for your birthday tommorow, but I was dumb and didn't use gloves to de-thorn the roses. So that's why my hands look like this." you still felt a little bad ruining the surprise, but giving Malleus peace of mind is much more important.
"Oh... So it was that, I see." Malleus still witheld a somewhat cold, scary expression. He can't stand to see you hurt, in any way. And knowing it was all for him makes him feel even worse.
Still... you wanted to make him happy so much that you willingly hurt yourself to see it happen. Warmth rushes to his face at the thought of you handing the boquet to him. That's quite a common way of confessing love among humans, is it not?
He can't wait for his birthday all of a sudden.
On these nights, he just can't help falling in love with you.
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aerkame · 1 year
Note
Alright I read your request rules and I’m ready to request!
Wally Darling x Curious Reader
You know that little fic you made where you wrote the puppets coming into the real world? (I commented on it!)——I hope you wouldn’t mind me trying to branch off it! Imaging it happening to me, I would actually like to inspect Wally since he’s clearly not human. Of course, with consent. I would open his mouth- see what’s inside, touch his felt, his hair, all of it.
And I’d imagine he’d be curious about us too.
Sorry for this being a bit late, I wanted a short break from writing and drawing all day. Also I'm perfectly fine with that being branched off of! Most of my previous posts are kind of like foundations for future fics and requests to go off of.
Also for the sake of simplicity I will just call this an AU(Alternate Universe). The Alive AU. It's exactly what it sounds like, the puppets come to life but as their cartoon selves in the real world and are capable of going back to their own world at any time. (Wally needs to do that though or they're stuck, he knows what he's doing). I'm also doing this so that in the future when we do have answers to Welcome Home, it won't interfere with theories or what is considered "canon". This request is based on a previous post (linked below this), for context.
Just a Little Look
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Out of all the other 'puppets', Wally was the one you were most curious and cautious about. It wasn't that he ate differently, it wasn't because his eyes looked different from the rest, and it wasn't because he was always staring at you. No, it was the way he acted. He acted like he's done this before. The whole going into this world and not being a normal puppet bit. You decided that you might as well ask Wally if you could feel him or look inside his mouth...maybe not that first one though, that might come out as weird to him and the others. It's not like he had a reason to say no really, you were just curious.
The 'puppet' with an Elvis cut was sitting down on your couch one leg crossed over the other like the distinguished dude that he was, face buried in a newspaper from this morning. You don't remember teaching him how to read the newspaper, where did he even get that? "Hey Wally..." You shuffled your foot a bit, getting somewhat anxious. "Can I look in your mouth?"
"Hmm?" He looked up from reading the paper with an almost dreamy look to him. "Can I look in your mouth?" You repeated the question, this time he heard you as his head tilted to the side. "Now what would you want to look in my mouth for?" His voice was as calm as usual, though he did have a bit of a smirk today.
"I'm just curious is all, you're not like the others and I've never seen what you guys look like on the inside." You gestured to the inside of your mouth, sticking your tongue out. Wally slowly got up from the couch and leaned over you, smirk still lingering on his face. "Well, I don't see why not, but I'll only let you look inside me if you let me look inside you." You nodded, excited to finally get a look. "Alright, sounds fair." You responded as Wally folded up the newspaper and neatly placed it on the coffee table.
Bending down, Wally opened his mouth quite a bit to let you look, making a small "Ahhh~" like a child would when letting a doctor look at their throat. You peered over to see inside. It was what a normal puppet mouth would look like save for the small black void at the back of the 'throat'. You're not even going to question how Wally speaks or eats, nothing surprises you anymore at this point. Kind of weird to see what is basically a tiny void though.
He closed his mouth once you were done looking before leaning closer to softly grab your face in his hands. It wasn't what you'd thought it'd feel like. You were expecting something like felt, but that wasn't it. It was some other material you've never felt before, it was soft and smooth like silk, but not in a sense that it was fabric. "I believe it's my turn to see the inside of your mouth now." You nodded quietly and opened your mouth as wide as you could, showing off your canines and molars.
It was awkwardly quiet in the living room for a while and you slowly found yourself leaning further and further into the soft hands that held your head up earning a small chuckle from Wally. "Tired?" You nodded. It's been a rough week both from your job getting busy and you being busy at the house trying to keep your new guests out of trouble. "It's like I'm taking care of a bunch of kids.." You mumbled into his hands.
"How about you take a good nap then, you'll be up and full of that energy you need." There it was again. You could feel him staring at you with those eyes. You were too tired to say anything this time though and opted for just getting up and heading to your room. Leaving behind a still smirking Wally.
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I told you guys, I write medium to long posts even if they take a while.
Next up? Barnaby and Wally teach the dear reader how to slow dance. :)
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Text
Co-Stars pt.4
Summary: Y/n post something interesting...
Warning: Sexism/ use of Y/n/ Swearing/
A/n: > Means Y/n's replies
Word count: 890 words
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@Official_Y/n
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@Official_Y/n: Guess who?
Liked by 78 345
Comments:
@User5710: Mother posting!!!!
@Y/n_fan214: Soft lauch?!
@TimotheChalamet: Ew, there's children on this app. > Okay🙂
@Austin_Butler: 🫣 > Sush Elvis
@User9261: Did she just shushed Austin Butler? > She did 💅
@Dua_Lipa: That back tho! 🫨 > 🏋‍♀️💪💅
-
After her post, the Internet was like the volcano that flooded Pompei with lava: Smoking hot. Everyone was talking about the guy in the picture and how intimate they looked. Of course, everyone thought about Callum, and they were right, but they didn’t know it. So, when Y/n, Austin, Anthony and Callum went on the Graham Norton show, they were expecting questions about it.
-
‘’So, Y/n obviously you got a lot of attention this week, because of this’’ Her post appears on the screen. Anthony starts to chuckle. ‘’I know, my back looks great’’ she says, avoiding the question. ‘’You look amazing, but the real question is: Who is the gentleman in the two pictures?’’ Two red arrows pointing at the men in the pictures appears on the screen. ‘’I can’t see him, maybe point it to me’’ she says, sarcastically of course. The publics starts to laugh. ‘’I mean there’s a gentleman in my life, I won’t say who, but yeah. Thought I’d tease the internet a little’’ she says, crossing her legs. ‘’Boys do you know who he is?’’ Graham asked the 3 men. ‘’Yeah, I met him, he’s really nice’’ Anthony says. ‘’He’s amazing, he takes care of my best friend, and that’s all that counts’’ Callum says. Y/n has to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent her from laughing. Hearing Callum talk about himself at the 3rd person almost makes her laugh and blow away the surprise. ‘’Like they said, he’s a really nice guy. Really fun too, we had some great conversations with him. Awesome guy’’ Austin adds. ‘’But what about Callum?’’ Graham asks. ‘’What about him?’’ Y/n asks. ‘’W-w-well you guys. T-t-the internet ships you together!’’ he stutters. Y/n direct answer took him by surprise. ‘’We also have a video of Callum and a mystery lady, let’s take a look’’ What video? Shit?! It showed a video of Callum making out with Y/n, but we couldn’t see her face, it was badly filmed because the only action we could see was between the crack of the door. Y/n tried not to react, and she was hoping that Callum would improvise something. ‘’Graham, I’m sorry, but we’re here to promote our show, Master of the Air, not trying to get to the bottom of the rumors of who’s Y/n dating and Callum’s privacy being invaded’’ Austin said, as calmly as possible. ‘’Austin’s right, plus we have great things to talk about other than Y/n’s dating life.’’ Anthony added the woman smiled to the blonde, who just saved their life. ‘’You’re right, I’m sorry, so Anthony…’’ Graham didn’t talk about relationships that night. When the interview was over and they got backstage, Y/n hugged Austin. ‘’Thank you so freaking much’’ she said. ‘’Thank you, Austin, I really appreciate it’’ Callum said. ‘’Don’t worry we got you’’ Anthony said.
-
After Austin and Anthony’s intervention, the people calmed down on the question, but the internet could still see their chemistry. Callum and Y/n still liked to tease the internet, but they calmed down too. Until the premier in the U.S.A, they kissed at the final premiere, in London. The one in the United-States was the before last premiere they all did. Y/n came on the carpet with a very reviling designer piece that the fans started to speculate.
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-
She didn’t want to come on the carpet dressed like this, but the designer put a lot of effort into the piece, so she wore it. But she already had a team ready inside the movie theater to change her outfit. When she stepped out the car, she felt very vulnerable, she arrived alone this time, she was already gonna get attention for her outfit, she didn’t more publicity. She walked on the red carpet, until she reached her co-stars. ‘’Y/n here! Show us your tits!’’ a male fan yelled, making her very uncomfortable. Callum, who had seen the scene, felt really bad for his girlfriend. He wanted to help her, but if he gave her his jacket, the rumors would just be unbearable, they like to tease the internet, but not like that. ‘’Austin, can you go give your jacket to Y/n, she’s really uncomfortable’’ he whispered. He nodded than went forward, to give Y/n his jacket. ‘’With your boyfriends’ compliments’’ he said, not wanting to be suspicious. She put the jacket on and continued her way on the carpet. They finally did a group photo, after they could go inside, and Y/n could change. ‘’Come on Y/n, you’re not afraid to be shirtless on Instagram! We want to see the tits!’’ another male fan yelled. The guys were all in shook of what they just heard. But Y/n took all the confidence she had left and stepped forward. ‘’Maybe ask politely’’ she gave the men a fake smile before showing him her middle finger. The flash of the camera doubled; she was certainly going to get attention now. But what she didn’t realise was that the hole cast was flipping the guy off. Callum was the first to follow is girlfriend in giving the middle finger, the rest just followed.
-
Surprisingly, it wasn’t her outfit that made the front page, it was the picture of the cast giving the finger to the sexist fan. They didn’t talk about the fact that it was disrespectful, they talked about the fact that men were supporting woman and how it should always be like this. The cast of Master of the Air were now icons in the feminist movement. All thanks to Callum…
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wanderingelvis · 20 days
Note
hi!! so my birthday is tomorrow or the 27th of february and i was wondering if you could do an Elvis imagine and the Memphis Mafia throwing her a surprise birthday party? of course no rush or pressure i hope you have a wonder day ! - 🦢
headcanons for a birthday at graceland with elvis and the mafia 🎂🥂 (kinda possessive elvis!) 🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻
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birthday's are special at graceland.
and yours, is no exception.
see, elvis spoils you every day, he showers you with affection and gifts that it's often overwhelming but you love feeling loved and you love soaking in the feeling.
but today, on your birthday, well, that's when elvis' generosity goes into overdrive.
he's like the captain of a ship, ordering the memphis mafia to do various tasks that will make your birthday extra special.
usually, jerry's scanning crowds making sure no-one is going to attack elvis but today he's blowing up pink balloons to decorate the interior of graceland with.
and of course he doesn't mind, he loves you as much as elvis does.
they all do in fact, jerry, sonny, red, charlie, lemar, you've got a hold on all of their hearts.
it's how sweet you are, even when they've had an intense and rough day, you'll be the sunshine that they crave.
like when jerry got in a scuffle with some guys trying to get too close to elvis and he cut his knuckles pretty damn bad, you sat by his feet, tending to the wound with a warm damp rag and clean bandages, trying to tell him jokes that maybe weren't all that funny, but when you said them, well then jerry had to laugh.
you're like a tonic.
and god, you were intoxicating.
so when it's your birthday, the entire memphis mafia ensure they're pulling out all the stops.
when elvis wakes you up, you're an adorable sight to see, your hair is slightly strewn and you blink several times before the realisation hits that it's your birthday, and suddenly, it's like you're a bush-baby, and the excitement begins to build.
"happy birthday, kid." elvis says, kissing your forehead as you gaze up at him from your shared bed, the kiss eliciting a soft giggle from you that practically melts elvis' heart.
even though you're still a little sleepy, elvis leads you out of the bedroom, your small hand in his larger, more calloused one.
and you practically jump out of your skin when a chorus of "surprise!" and "happy birthday!" roars around the living room, all of the men of the mafia, watching as elvis leads you to them.
of course, it's then that the stage fright hits, and your nerves bundle up inside you, the attention on you causing you to turn and bury your face into elvis' chest.
as if he's your comfort blanket.
but this only elicits another chorus of sound, but this time laughter, and 'aww's' from the men, cooing at just how sweet you are.
"think someone's got a lil' bit shy!" elvis chuckles, wrapping his arms around you, rubbing soothing circles into your back before leaning down his head to check on you.
"y'okay bunny? it's just the guys, they wanna celebrate y'big day with you baby, see," elvis coos at you, coaxing you into peeking at everyone as he points to the pink balloons over the archways. "jer got up extra early this mornin' to blow them balloons for you baby." elvis tells you and you start blushing, that feeling of feeling loved swelling inside of you.
it's already too much for a little thing like you to handle, and you've only been awake for 20 minutes.
once the stage fright is shaken off, elvis keeps a hold of your hand, leading you through the dining room and the living room, letting you see all of the pretty decorations that he and the memphis mafia have done for you, from balloons, to ribbons, to birthday breakfast pancakes.
and being the good girl you are, you give every one of the big, old men a cuddle, thanking them for making your birthday so special.
and even though elvis knows your cuddles are harmless, he never lets you out of his sight.
he trusts you, of course he does, and he trusts his men, of course he does, but there's just something so irresistible about you.
he knows his men are loyal but you're so heavenly that he knows you're worth risking everything for.
so he always keeps an eye on you.
because no-one else will ever have you, only him.
so he knows he needs to keep you happy.
and of course, that means presents, and extra special ones as it's your birthday.
and what could be more special than your own little puppy?
when elvis gives you the puppy, you can't help the tears that pool in your big, wide eyes.
"really? for me?" you ask with a slight tremble, you're not really ready to believe that the puppy is all yours.
"all yours baby." elvis smirks, he's proud of himself for the gift.
so there you are, with elvis' kitten with her own little puppy.
elvis and the mafia have invited everyone round for a party to celebrate you and by the time the evening rolls around, it's a full house.
the smell of champagne and cigars fill the rooms as does the sound of laughter and chatter.
and of course, you remember your manners, making sure to say hello to everyone and thank them for coming.
even if you have to go on your tippy-toes to whisper in elvis' ear because you need his help - you can't remember that guests name.
as the party continues and elvis is showcasing his new gun collection to sonny and charlie, the two men puffing on cigars, you're sat on the fluffy white carpet, by elvis' feet, your sole attention focused on your new puppy, who you're affectionately playing with.
elvis' talk of guns being interrupted with your sweet giggles at your puppy.
but it's not long before the staff come round with more glasses of champagne for everyone and you can't help yourself, you just want to have a little bit more.
only a little.
so you tap on elvis' trouser leg, catching his attention as he leans down to where you are on the floor beside him.
"please may i have a glass of champagne?" you ask softly and you know the look that he gives you all too well.
"just one more." elvis tells you with that coy look on his face. "can't have my baby being sick on her birthday now, can i?" elvis chuckles and you reciprocate, taking the glass that the staff hands you after elvis nods at them to confirm it's okay to give you one.
you love how elvis looks after you and knows what's best for you.
but the excitement of your birthday is quick to take it's toll, and it's not long until your head is firmly led on elvis' lap with your eyes closed.
elvis' lap is a good enough substitute for your bed, you think.
but obviously, elvis disagrees, and after about fifteen minutes of stroking your hair as you rest your head in his lap and lay on the couch by him, he decides it's time for your bedtime.
"c'mon little one, time to get you to your bed." elvis coos, waking you up ever so that you can say your goodnights and go with elvis to your bedroom.
and it's not before elvis instructs you to say goodnight and thank you to all of the memphis mafia that are sat around you in the living room.
"give the guys a kiss goodnight baby, say thank you fr' makin' y'day so special." elvis chides, patting your butt so prompt you to say your goodnights.
see, elvis is a possessive man, and he knows that his men adore you, and after a few drinks, he can't help but enjoy watching as you innocently go around, placing a kiss on each of the mafia's cheeks, not thinking anything of it, whilst the men won't stop thinking about for the next month, wishing they were as lucky as elvis to have you.
because there's nothing elvis loves more than having something that everyone else wants but can't have.
and for him, that's you.
because now, he gets to take you upstairs, undress you, kiss you up and down your body, taste you, fuck you.
and the mafia will still be thinking about that kiss on the cheek.
but all you feel is loved, and you love feeling loved.
and elvis loves you better than anyone.
and that's why birthday's at graceland are so special.
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be-my-ally · 1 year
Text
Let Yourself Go
Overstimulated Reader! Request.
my darling, what a dream request - thank you anon! for both your very kind words + excellent request!!! this has consumed my brain for the past week; I originally intended it to be short like 2.5-3k, and then it turned into 4k and then I realised that in all of those words elvis had only been treated once so it turned into 6k. so this is 6.7k of pure, absolute, filthy smut just for you that i really hope lives up your expectations!
summary: slightly innocent!reader is convinced girls can't really orgasm - elvis sets out to teach her how wrong she is.
pairing: afab!reader/elvis (big daddy e)
warnings: 18+, 18+, 18+, tiny bit of daddy kink, implied age difference, oral (p+v receiving), p in v sex, fingering, mirror sex, overstimulation, very brief spanking. I think that's it? Reader does attempt to stop the proceedings a couple of times and elvis doesn't stop but it is all consensual.
wc: 6.7k
suggested listening: the end of such a night + of course, let yourself go.
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You’ve not been together very long and you were still learning about each other in many ways. It confused you a little that he, who you knew had girls throwing themselves at him, would take the time to bother to get to know you better. He’d picked you out of the crowd and put you on his lap in his dressing room before he’d even learnt your name. When you’d told him, earnestly, that you didn’t expect to be married or anything but you were a good girl, who wouldn’t sleep around, you’d expected him to tell you that he wasn’t going to see you again. But no, he’d put in the effort and here you were, a few weeks later, at Graceland of all places. You’d been brought back with him after his engagement at the International ended for this year, allowing him a short break before he resumed touring. 
He’d taken you out on his bike earlier, showing you the sights of Memphis and you’d loved the rush, so unlike anything you’d experienced before. Despite the fact that you dreaded the call from your parents at the photos that would inevitably be published of the two of you - you hadn’t really been dressed to go out (the outing unexpected), nor had you been able to help snuggling into his back, your hand resting on his solid thigh at the lights. When you’d gotten back to the estate you’d expected a party - a celebration of his homecoming, and you’d been bracing to have to deal with losing him for the evening, but you’d been pleasantly shocked when he’d kicked everyone out after dinner, announcing that he wanted a night just the two of you. 
You wanted to tell him that his expectations were a bit forward, to not get his hopes and that you still weren’t sure you were quite ready to have actual sex with him but in all honesty, you were ready and only your (perhaps misguided) morals had prevented you thus far. You had been slightly surprised at how unbothered he had seemed at the concept of sex - he’d laughed you off when you’d told him you didn’t want to sleep with him on the first night; telling you that was all very well but would you sleep with him because he couldn’t “bear the long nights all on my lonesome”. He hadn’t pressured you at all, less than your last boyfriend for sure, and seemed to genuinely enjoy your makeout sessions as much as you do. To tell the truth, you weren’t really sure why anyone was that bothered by sex - it felt fine sure, but it didn’t blow your world apart, was mostly very awkward, and you couldn’t understand what the fuss was in general. 
You’d followed him into the bedroom, into his room, and while part of you wanted to inspect every little detail of this hidden, protected space, the other part of you could feel his impatience from the bed and when he smiles at you - all cheeks and teeth, asking; 
“Wanna have some fun tonight darlin’? Cleared the place out for ya, didn’t want you to go all shy on me…some girls get nervy at the number of people in the place. Get real quiet and the like, even though I tell ‘em I got the sound locked down.” You forget any desire to rifle through his drawers and instead stare at him, slightly confused - just hoping he’s not going to be disappointed; 
“Uh, oh, well, I can’t say I’m that loud anyways, always, I always thought that was just a thing girls, uh, exaggerated?” You look down, embarrassed that you may be having to burst his bubble - you don’t want to be the first to tell him that from what you know there’s nothing to be shouting about. But he doesn’t react in the way you expect - blinking at you from under his glasses and patting the bed next to him. 
“C’mere doll, tell daddy what you mean.” You sit where he tells you to, tiny shorts hiking even further, and you curl your legs up underneath yourself. 
“I don’t, sorry, I don’t understand what you’re asking? I’m just, just, saying that I never understood what those girls on the … on the … the stuff you like to watch, what they’re shouting about is all. Never seemed like anything worth carrying on like that is all.” He’s a little shocked but not altogether surprised - you’re young and a little sheltered, perhaps more than he thought at your reluctance to even said the word ‘pornography’ and he knows your only other relationships have been serious with boys from home, less about fun and more about futures, and he knows that they don’t always put the effort in they should. Still, he needs clarification - his eyes burning with curiosity; 
“You mean you ain’t ever .. got your rocks off? Never creamed those lil’ shorts of yours?” His thick hand finds its way onto your thigh and he flicks the hem of your shorts, practically between your legs. You giggle, pushing his hand off.
“Elvis. Don’t be silly, unless you’ve been with some funny sorta people - girls can’t do that! That’s… I might not know much but I do know that.” He looks back at you, utterly stunned, before smiling like all his Christmases have come at once, a full cheshire cat grin. 
“You - you ain’t never?” He’s shocked, but desperate to know your answer, taking his glasses off, leaning closer and waiting with practically bated breath in excitement, clenching his hands on his thighs. 
“I just told you E, that’s not something girls can actually do. Don’t you think I’d know! If you’re just gonna tease me I swear I’m gonna walk right out of here!” He laughs again at your indignation, shaking his head, 
“Naw little one, don’t do that, don’t do that - I just uh, I think I might be able to teach you a few things tonight is all. Just, ah, need to re-evaluate some things’all.” He frowns, “You know the other day, baby, when I stroked your little pussy and you pushed me off - told me you were all done?” 
You remember the incident he was talking about, He’d had his fingers up you, rubbing you exactly how you needed and you’d crunched with an involuntary shudder, couldn’t quite catch your breath properly and had told him to stop. You’d pushed him away in a panic that you didn’t know what was coming, but that that was certainly enough. He’d been a little worried then, worried that he’d pushed you into something you hadn’t wanted to do. But, he’d relaxed when you’d relaxed on the bed - he wasn’t happy with leaving you like that, on the edge, but he’d figured you were just shy, nervous that his entourage was a mere wall away. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him that you genuinely believed that was you finished. 
“Yeah, but what about it? We were done - I was done, it was starting to make me feel weird. I actually think we went too far.” He lets out a pure incredulous laugh, shaking his head. 
“Oh baby, baby. I’m gonna, I’ll teach you baby, it’ll be ok.” You nod, but you’re honestly a bit confused about what he’s even planning on teaching you, but you don’t want to tell him he’s wrong again. You suppose he does have quite the reputation, so maybe he does have some things to show you, you doubt it somewhat but keep that to yourself. 
“Right, yittle, need these all off of ya,” He tugs at your shirt, starting to unbutton it. “and these, these slutty little shorts need to come off, lemme see what I’m working with.” He’s practically crooning at you, slipping your shirt off gently, divesting you off your shorts - undressing you as if you were a babe. He strips you of your bra, leaving you in little white panties, before pushing you back onto the bed to lie flat. He doesn’t give you time to worry about your nudity, cupping your cheek with one thick hand, leaning over you to kiss you. 
His tongue slips in, it’s like he’s mapping your mouth and you don’t bother to fight for dominance, letting him in, submissively brushing your tongue against his. He pulls away slightly, grabbing a breath and you can’t help it, his pouty perfect lips too tempting, you surge forward to softly suck on his bottom lip, nibbling gently. He responds in kind, pulling your head back, baring your neck - he tugs your lip between his teeth pulling as he pulls away. You moan at the little sting, and he presses a soothing peck against it. Before trailing down and pressing little open-mouthed kisses at your cheek, mouthing at your neck - tiny little suctioning touches until his hand, which he’s not resting on, is trailing further down. His fingers spread across a breast, fingertips playing with your nipple. You can feel the heat coiling in your tummy - your throbbing heartbeat between your legs. He’s pressing little kisses down your soft stomach, and he grunts as he repositions himself - up on his knees slightly. It worries you briefly, he’s been using a cane as more than just an accessory more frequently lately - his youthful actions having been hard on his knees and legs, before your mind is wiped by his actions again. 
His hand trails lower, even as he continues to press soft kisses on your stomach, and he swipes down in a languid stroke over your panties, feeling your pooling wetness through the forming damp spot. He pushes it into you, rubbing you over them - the fabric catching slightly, along with your breath. He moves his head back up, sucking you by your collarbone and on your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise. The noises coming out of your mouth are unlike how you’ve ever heard yourself before, and as he hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down and off - the dampness making them pretty much see through - you would normally cringe in embarrassment but as you watch him lift them to his mouth and suck on them you can’t do anything but stare in an absolute state of shock and arousal. He’s still fully dressed although his shirt is so lowly unbuttoned, his chest with its covering of hair, god even his nipples practically out, that it barely counts. You can feel his own arousal growing against your side, still confined in his tight, slightly flared, trousers the heat of it, and can’t help but wiggle against him. He folds your panties, scrunching them up, before shifting to push them into his trouser pocket. You gape at him, 
“Good lord, you can’t - they’re so dirty Elvis - you can’t keep them. They need to be washed!” He smirks at you, smirk turning to a grin as he leans over you to whisper in your ear, moving his hand away from you as he does. 
“Baby, when they taste that good, I’ll do what I damn well like.” He licks your cheek, and it's something that you would have found disgusting from anyone else, but somehow him doing it makes your heartbeat pulse in your core. He lets his hand come back down, lightly slapping against your pussy, you jolt forward, mouth falling open, and eyes rolling slightly at the sudden intense pleasure from it. He chuckles into your ear, tickling your neck, “Oh - you like that mama? Like that baby?” He does it again, and you’re horrified at the wet slapping noise - but also at the sudden surge of wetness, you can feel.  
“Oh god, Elvis, you gotta - gotta do that again. Please.” He obliges, patting you once, twice, three times before letting his hand fly slightly harder, you can feel your heat rising - and you shiver slightly. You’ve reached the peak of where you’d been before. Your heartbeat fast, and a constant thrumming at your centre. He laughs, teasing you in a low tone, 
“God, who’d have thought you’d be such a dirty fucking girl, letting me - begging me to spank that yittle cunt of yours.” He puts an inflection onto yittle, as if even when talking about your ‘cunt’ he’s unable to stop his penchant for baby talk. 
He uses his fingers to spread you apart, middle finger sliding in your slick. The metal of his ring is cold against your burning skin, sending goosebumps down your flesh. You think he can’t make you feel any better when he slips two of his fingers inside you. His huge square ring catching on your entrance for a moment and you buck your hips as he slides it in. He pumps them, in and out, as you squirm on the bed. Your eyes fall closed for a moment and he whispers to you, 
“You like that little? My fingers in you? Gonna show you how girls do it, teach ya how it goes.” You respond with a whine - his words causing a blush to travel from your chest. You’re simultaneously embarrassed at needing to be taught something about your own adult self and aggressively turned on by his narration. 
You’re breathless and while he’s looking at you with a soft smile on his face - pure concentration in his burning eyes, you can’t help but wonder what he’s getting from all of this attention on you. But to be the centre of his focus, him looking at you like you’re the whole world - the only thing in the world, is another level of high. Behind him you can yourself reflected in the mirror above - you look fucking debauched, unlike yourself and seeing him from above, in all his iconic glory, reminding you this is Elvis fixated on you brings you even closer to the cliff edge. 
He pushes into you, unnecessarily - his fingers were long enough he could reach with his thumb without having to strain at all - to reach your hooded clit. He finds it expertly, rubbing it just so. You shudder, and he keeps going just as he was, but kisses down your neck to your nipple again, swirling it in his mouth, pulling it with his teeth slightly and you can feel yourself about to fall. You panic at the unexpected and unknown feeling and try to throw him off, 
“Elvis! Elvis stop - stop I can’t - I can’t do it, it’s too much - you gotta, you gotta st-“ You’re thrashing about the place, arms flailing as you try to push him away, but his fingers don’t stop and he hushes you as he’s suddenly stroking this little spot inside of you. You can feel it’s different but can’t quite tell how until he crooks his fingers and presses. You shudder, your mouth falling open, although you’re still far quieter than he’d like - he makes a mental note that his aim tonight is to make you scream. And then you’re shaking, convulsing on his hand - stomach and core muscles clenching of their own accord. He rubs and strokes you through it. Your mind is blank and all you can feel is your thighs shaking - your head rolling from side to side. He keeps going and you keep going for him, clutching the covers in tight fists, mouth open in a silent scream as one of your legs randomly seems to jump about. He can tell you’re at the end of what you can do for him at the moment. He softlypulls his fingers out, trying to bring you down gently. His fingers leaving feather-light touches across your mound and thighs. 
“That good, baby?” He pats his sticky, wet hand on your tummy and you can’t speak, taking heaving breaths. 
“W-was,” You’re slurring as you come back to, your ears ringing, “Is that, what I’ve been missing? Is that meant to happen?” He laughs at you, finger drawing little shapes on your stomach, 
“Yeah, when you’re with someone who knows what they’re doing.” He puffs his chest out a little, clearly proud of himself, “A real man.” You laugh, and he kisses you again and again until your lips are swollen and bitten raw and you’re gasping for air. You lay back for a few more moments, looking up at him leaning over you. He moves his arm, and you’re not quite sure what comes over you, but the movement had spread his shirt even more and it’s not something you’d ever considered doing ever before, but he did do it to you earlier so you gain the courage to ask; 
“El- can I, can I…please can I taste you?” He raises a brow at your polite request, but is not going to turn down such an offer, 
“Sure baby, lemme get lil’ Elvie out now - “ You frown, interrupting him. 
“No, no… can I just… like you did earlier?” He looks slightly confused, his brow furrowed, but he agrees nonchalantly - clearly used to letting whoever do whatever they like with his body. 
“Sure - “ He starts to say something else, but you’re too distracted by the permission, rushing forward to kiss his chest, moving down to capture his nipple. He jerks,
“Christ - Oh lord,” You’re practically suckling him, one hand threading through his chest hair, feeling his stomach, the hard line where he’s definitely still muscular somewhere underneath but is soft and cushy above, grasping at his pillowy sides. His hips are bucking, circling with the effort not to throw you off accidentally, “Oh gods, baby, christ little one, lord, oh lord.” He’s unable to be silent, constantly babbling a stream of curses and praise. You pull off, and suddenly, you’re mortified. 
“Oh my goodness, Oh, Elvis, I - uh, sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” You’re shocked at yourself but he’s panting, and you can feel him straining against his pants. 
“Oh darlin’, lord, darlin’ it’sss ok, it’s so good, so good baby. Love your lil’ mouth on me.” You smile a little bashfully as he pats at you as if praising a dog. “Think now little Elvis would too baby, get him out - show him how much you ‘preciate him too?” You pant back at him nodding your agreement. He’s resting further up on the bed than he was before, you’d both travelled around the last few minutes and he sits to take his shirt fully off, before unbuttoning his trousers finally and wriggling out of them. He shuffles further back and you get yourself situated between his legs, bracketed by his thick thighs on either side of you, their covering of downy hair tickling your sides. You lean down, gently stroking his hardening cock - but then pause, 
“Elvis, I ain’t ever - you gotta tell me how to do it.” He groans, his head falling back, 
“Goddamn, like you were made for me, fucking made for me honey,” he peers down at you, over the slight swell of his stomach, tucking his chin in - one of his meaty fingers stroked the side of your face before gently grasping your head, lowering it to his cock. “You gotta, gotta say hello little one, give ‘im a little hello kiss now - “ You do as he says, brushing your lips against the very tip. You’d seen it briefly before, so although not this close, and you had given him a … helping hand over the past few weeks so you’re not surprised to see he’s uncut nor at the size of him - generous in length and girth, but it’s still fascinating to you up close. You can't help but study it briefly - assessing how his foreskin is starting to retract back slightly and you absentmindedly reach for it, gently rolling it forward and back a little bit, unsure how far it should go. His hips jerk, 
“Christ, baby, you gotta warn a man first.” You smile, meeting his blazing blue eyes and amused expression. 
“Sorry - I thought me being here was warning enough.” He laughs and pats your cheek. 
“Right little one, back to work. Kiss down little Elvis, let him know how much you wanted to see him - ‘ You obey his orders, pressing little kisses all the way down his shaft. “Ok, now doll you're gonna take him in that hot little mouth of yours - gonna be re-eal careful of your sharp little teeth, got it?” You obediently bob up and down in a nod, making sure not to scrape him.
Instinct seems to kick in and you take a moment to suck down on him, flattening your tongue against his underside. His other hand finds its way into your hair accompanying the one still resting on your cheek and neck, hand spanning across the distance. His hip jerks forward and it causes his dick to knock further back than you were expecting and you pull back with a little cough.
“S’ok baby, sorry, felt so good, couldn't help myself, not gonna make you take all of him tonight, you can use your hand go on, show the rest of him how much you love him.” He pats you again and it’s enough encouragement for you to go back down on him. You do as he suggested, stroking and pulling him with your hand where your mouth can't comfortably reach, growing bold enough to reach down and delicately hold and stroke his balls. His hands are insistent on your head, not forcing you but certainly moving you exactly how he wants you. You can taste the thin salty trickle of precum starting to dribble out of him.
“That’s it, baby, I was already so close, just from touchin’ ya honey, just gotta suck me just like that, that’s it like a damn popsicle.” His hands grow a little rougher, tugging on your hair slightly, as his hips circle and his thighs clench around you. “Gonna, you gonna stroke me now, yittle, you just gonna stroke me, I’ll let you have a taste, give you a treat but that’s enough for now - ’s about you tonight, about you honey.” He's babbling now, and you're not paying much attention to his words coming out of his mouth except when his request filters through to your brain, and you pull off with a little wet pop, stroking him to completion. He squirts over your hand - ribbons of white hitting you on the chin and chest, moaning as he does and his eyes falling closed.
He leans back, breathing heavily as his cock finishes jumping about, slowly softening before your eyes and you glance around, before grabbing his discarded shirt to wipe your hand on. Before you can raise it to your chin to wipe it off of there he sits up and moves his hand from your face to swipe a finger through it. “C’mon baby, gonna have you swallow it next time,” You're uncertain about this, but don’t bother to say anything right now as he rubs his fingers on your lips, “Go on, open up honey, have a taste for me. Lick it clean.” You do as he commands, tasting the salty tang of a man’s cum for the first time. It's not wholly unpleasant, although you're not sure about the texture, but you can’t say you'd be jumping for joy at the prospect of swallowing his full load. He watches as you suck his fingers, licking them completely clean looking up at him under your lashes as you do. 
He leans forward to kiss you but then suddenly grimaces, frowning. Twisting slightly in an attempt to relieve some of the tension from his hips and back. 
“I’m sorry, honey, but I gotta- I gotta lie down again.” You frown, worried. 
“Of course! don’t - you’re meant to be relaxing!” He’s proven himself to you - taught you that there was something on the other side of the cliff edge and it was good. But you weren’t worried - didn’t see any reason to continue, you’d both been taken care of and you were now perfectly happy to be tucked up in bed for the night.
“Oh no, I don’t mean I’m done. Get over here, little girl…” He manhandles you, ringed fingers digging into your thighs as he arranges you over the top of him. He then lies down, sliding between your legs, before huffing a tiny bit as he heaves you up from his chest and down onto him. “That’s it, mama, right over my face. Lemme get to that poor little kitty of yours.” You’re confused as to what he’s going to be able to achieve from this angle - he can’t possibly just want such a closer look, can he? But then, without warning, he pushes his head up licking down your labia before pulling you off balance to literally sit on his face. 
“Woah - Oh, Elvis I’m gonna hurt you like this, I can’t just - I’m too heavy!” You try to move away but you can’t escape from his tight grip. 
“Ain’t gonna hurt a fly baby - lemme just.” And he pushes his tongue into you, spearing into your hole. You’re sopping wet already, his fingers having seen to that, and the noises are obscene - the wet smacking and sucking. 
“Elv-oh my god, Elvis you can’t-“ You try to get off but his hands don’t let you move at all - pinning you onto him. But as you struggle your thighs touch and you can feel the wetness and the stickiness that’s spread throughout - tangling your curls, sticking your thighs. “It’s- it’s - it’s dirty, you can’t, you shouldn’t - that shouldn’t, you’re not meant to do that.” You can feel him chuckle, the vibration making you gasp, but he doesn’t even respond, simply holds you down and goes harder.
You’re supporting most of your weight on your own legs but every time you clench or move you can feel his fingers digging tighter in - sure you’ll have bruises where his rings and fingertips have been. You can’t help but move, grinding onto his mouth. It’s outrageous and you can’t believe this is something people do, but now it’s happening you wonder how you’ve lived this long without it, without knowing how this feels. His tongue is flicking between lapping at your hole and your inner folds. Your hips circle and one of his hands comes around your thigh - curling around to join his mouth. He moves his mouth up to suck on your clit, and the warm wet pressure, the suction, the everything - it’s too much. You’re losing control again, fighting the panic for a second time that evening - but this time, the pressure is growing even stronger and though you recognise the feeling now it feels different. 
“Oh my god, Elvis, god, Elvis, Elvis please, please, you gotta stop! I’m gonna-” You grind your hips again, but he must be able to hear the sudden change in your tone - the sudden, very real, panic. And despite his instinct telling him not to he worries it’ll make you lose your relaxed state and he pulls away, kissing your inner thigh, 
“Relax baby, dontcha worry, oh my poor baby’s little neglected pussy - you’ve got no idea, just been waiting for a real man, for daddy, to show you what you’ve been missin’ all this time.” He croons into you, hands stroking your thighs, soothing you into compliance. As soon as you relax into his hold again he surges forward once more. Your folds are swollen and slick, feeling like they’re burning, you feel so hot. And your entire focus is on your cunt and Elvis. Unable to even think about your thigh cramping or your foot falling asleep. He kisses up you, capturing your little puffy clit in his lips again and sucks hard. You think you might be about to pass out - it feels so overwhelming, but suddenly the pressure changes - and as he slips a finger back inside you it starts to feel a little too similar to something else. 
Your panicked noises come back out, and you once again are begging Elvis to stop warning him; “I think I’m gonna pee, Elvis, seriously! I can’t - I can’t hold it! Elvis - daddy, fuck, I can’t, I seriously think I’m gonna - gonna pee.” But he doesn’t stop this time, not even to reassure you, just continuing his steady ministrations, speeding up, and the pressure is steadily mounting again, reaching the peak. Your orgasm rips through you and you have to throw your hands out to support yourself on the headboard to simply stay upright but you’re barely able to think about it, moving on instinct alone. You’re shuddering and he’s continuing, won’t leave you be. And then, the pressure seems to burst - slowly yet somehow quicker than anything you’re ever felt. It’s like your vagina is simultaneously your whole body and also entirely separate from your body as it clenches before you’re gushing, liquid shooting out of you. It drenches his face, it’s in his hair, in his sideburns, and he sits up, as you fall off of him to one side, and he’s glistening. 
You’re in a daze but a little embarrassed, both at him covered in your juices and that he was right and you were wrong about your abilities. But his reaction makes you second guess your immediate response - he’s grinning, licking his goddamn lips like he’s just eaten the best-tasting dessert of his life. He uses one of your discarded shirts to wipe his face off, smiling at the damp patches it causes. 
“There we are baby, Daddy got’cha there, got you to that special place - that’s what it’s meant to be like darling. Told you didn’t I, told you, you just gotta listen to me, let yourself go.” 
You lay back panting - you’re a little sore and a lot tired and you’re sure you’re done. You can feel his cock hardening against you again in a gentle coaxing sort of way, and you reach over a hand. You can do this, but you’ve just not got the energy for anything else - and your pussy is still pulsing, soft and swollen and puffy. He bats your hand away though, 
“Right, mama, gonna show you how it’s really done, you’re gonna reach your little o on my cock, and you’re gonna know that’s how it should be every time.” He kneels up on the bed, pulling you up onto your knees too, and he’s putting you exactly where he wants you. You want to refuse, but he’s so convincing, and you are a little curious at how he might be able to make even this so spectacular for you, an act that you’d been ambivalent about, mostly put up with; knowing it was something women just did to keep their partners happy. He manhandles you into the perfect position for him, your back slightly arched, hands clutching the top of the headboard and he brushes your sweaty hair off of your neck, kissing where it lay before. 
You stay where he puts you, slightly shell-shocked at your easy compliance, and at what he’s suggesting. You glance up from under your lashes and notice the huge mirror above the bed - you’d seen the one above yourself in the bed but not the glass above the headboard - and can see how you look. You watch your face contort slightly as he presses a few of his fingers into you again, testing if you’re ready. But you’re loose, in a novel sort of way - so aroused that it’s easy in a way it’s never been before. You’re studying your fucked out face, shocked at how wide your pupils are, the redness of your lips and cheeks, before you turn your attention to Elvis watching his rosy reflection - his hair sticking down, body and chest shimmering with sweat, clinging to his chest hair, his plush lips bitten red and his face still with a hint of damp, blue eyes sparkling. You’re about to utter something completely embarrassing like, “Oh my god, you’re so pretty,” or “I love you.” But you’re (somewhat thankfully) distracted by him rubbing himself on you a couple of times before fucking into you. You jolt forward, mouth falling open as he simply pushes his whole length in, immediately pulling back out to shutter his hips forward again - gripping your waist and pulling you back onto him too. You’re shouting, finally, garbled noises and moans as he gives you no time to adjust and instead slams you back and forth to him, his balls slapping against your wet skin. 
He spanks your ass and you shudder, the tinge of pain mixed with the pleasure of him hitting that spot in you, getting in so deep you feel like he’s in your soul and not just your body. You can feel yourself starting to go again, starting to ride the crest of that wave when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again and you can barely breathe, noises catching in your throat at the sight. 
“That’s it sweet, that’s it sugar, look at yourself,” He wraps an arm over your chest and grips your chin, pointing it straight at the mirror, “Look at us honey.” You can see him behind you, behind your flushed body - himself pink and damp with sweat from the exertion, its practically dripping down his forehead and onto his chest - he lets go of your chin and moves one hand to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples, the other to slip between your legs. You jerk when he strokes where the two of you are joined. It’s filthy. You’ve never been this visible like this before, having very much been under the covers with previous lovers, and your knowledge of positions was limited to on your back, on your front and your side. Very much lying down. The image of his cock sliding into your folds, the pink fuzzy base barely visible through your own fuzz and his hand splayed over your stomach as if supporting where he sits internally is filthy in the best possible way. 
You feel utterly surrounded by him, you can’t think of anything but how he feels, how he looks, you can’t sense anything else. You can’t see anything but him, it’s all him as you look around - the mirrors on the back wall and above you reflect back the image of the two of you, but your eyes skip over yourself only seeing him. His thick form. He’s muscular in a solid way, an accidental way, and the layer of softness that covers all of him, but especially over his tummy, only makes him more attractive to you, more real. When you close your eyes the vision of him is imprinted on your eyelids, and all you can smell is him. He’s got a slight sweaty musk to him from the exertion and activity, but under it you can still smell the hint of his cologne. His sheets smell aggressively like him, like the Vegas him and the home him - he must use the same products (or his laundry service must) wherever he is. The room too - there’s his unique blend of homely smells but also the heavy scent of the blend of his favourite specific brands of cigarettes and cigars. The smoke, despite him claiming he only smoked very irregularly, clings to his thick curtains and the drapes that surround the room. The room which screams, as much as the rest of his house does, of him - of solely him, of his outrageous, outlandish, tacky, wonderful, style. 
You aren’t able to have any of these thoughts though, as his fingers stroke himself before once again finding your clit. He captures it between his fingers, rolling it, before brushing his finger over it and before you know it you’re quivering - shaking as your orgasm overcomes you again. It’s too much, your body has barely had a chance to recover and while you’re not passed out you’re also not…all there. Your body slack as Elvis holds you up, just a rag doll for him to take what he needs for his own orgasm - chasing his completion. He does, barely a few strokes later, a litany of praises spilling out of his mouth, pulling out as quickly as he could, seemingly caught a little by surprise. And you can feel the last few sprays from him as he splatters over your already sticky and trembling body. You slump down without him holding you up by the waist and hips, and he catches you - laying you out on the bed. He lays next to you, panting, chest heaving for a few moments before propping himself up on an elbow next to you. 
You’re sore, internally and externally and worse - sticky, but he doesn’t let you sleep yet, running his cum-covered fingers through your soft pubic hair, before tracing shapes on your lower tummy, gently brushing lower and lower until his fingers are stroking through your sticky soft folds. You squirm, sleepy, and he hushes you, 
“C’mon baby doll, give me one more, gotta make up for lost time darling. Give em all to you tonight. One more baby, c’mon do it for daddy, give daddy one more.” He’s speaking lowly, so as not to disturb your sleepy state, but what he’s asking you to do is bringing you back to awareness. He’s barely touching you, nudging your little stretched hole with his wet fingers, barely pressing the outer rim before delicately stroking your sore, puffy, clitoris again. You feel your legs shaking, seemingly of their own accord, and can’t focus on anything he says, resorting to begging over top of his continued whispers; 
“I can’t, I can’t, Elvis please, daddy, please, it’s too much, I can’t,” but you’re already so close to the edge that you gasp, mouth open, as he inserts his fingers again, and it only takes him crooking them just so for you to shudder and scream. It’s borderline painful, and your legs are shaking, “Lord, daddy! Oh my god, Elvis, daddy, oh my lord. Oh - “ and as he continues to stroke that little place inside of you, as you ride the waves that wash over you, your words trail off to just noises. You're practically yowling as you slump over, still shuddering and stomach still convulsing when he slows his ministrations and pulls his fingers away. Your vision is white and black and you can't focus on anything he's saying through your ringing ears although you're aware he's talking. It takes a few minutes for your body to calm down, Elvis’ large hands gently rubbing you down like a horse after a race, and it's not until your heart rate slows again that you’re able to open your eyes and try to focus on what he's saying.
“Told you didn’t I, you gonna learn to believe your daddy now? Believe what he tells you?” He’s unbelievably smug and you can hear it in his voice, and in the way his eyes crinkle looking down at you. 
“Course, Daddy,” You blush, “Elvis. Of course, I just - I just didn’t know! I didn’t know what that was…inside me.” He laughs, 
“Well, not everyone can find it doll, it keeps itself real hidden like, less you’re just the right fit.” He squeezes your cheek as he says it before he pats you again and heaves himself up into standing. “Right honey, gonna have to get you all cleaned up - you’ll be drippin’ all night else.” You wince as he wipes at you with a little towel, even his expensive cotton too much abrasion on your still throbbing centre. You roll into the bed, far too exhausted to even stand up, and your eyes are closing as he comes back over with a glass of water, he makes you drink half and you do so, sleepily, while he maintains his grip on the glass. “We’ll have to shower in the morning honey, think you’re fixin’ for a snooze now.” He pulls the top comforter off, throwing it on the floor, and you can just see through your hazy tired gaze that there’s a large wet spot on it. “Least we ain’t gotta change the bed.” He mumbles as he climbs into it. You squirm as he pulls you close against your chest and his hands find their customary positions - one just a little too close to between your thighs but he pets and shushes you, humming a tiny lullaby that makes you fall deep asleep almost immediately. 
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mahg-stuff · 9 months
Text
𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒍
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Prompt: "Only God knows why"
Summary: Big Daddy just wants to try exploring new erotic themes with his sweet dolly but it involves a firearm, though she is wary she puts her faith in Elvis and God.
Pairing: bd!elvis x afab!reader
Word count: 13k
Warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, excessive smut, 18+!, gun play, sorta naive reader, manipulative tactics!?, mentions of religion, age gap (isn’t directly stated), certain themes can be disturbing/dark, lots of manhandling, quick mention of Elvis’ health, implied butt stuff f!receiving (only briefly brought to the attention), first time giving oral m!receiving, use of the word daddy, pet names, Elvis at one point calls himself papa bear, might’ve missed a few...
AN: ITS HERE MY LOVELY'S! I know i made y’all wait so so long for this & I just wanna say sorry. Life just decided to get in the way again and took a toll on me but I'm finally back & ready to give you guys this story you so deserve!
Like I mentioned in my previous post this is my literal first attempt of writing something like this and about Elvis, as well as writing about religion. Hope you all enjoy it! I’m no expert so please go easy on me. hehehe (Though I will admit I had this story idea marinating for a quite awhile, let's just say Big Daddy is a handful.)
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 After wrapping up your usual prayer of gratitude to God for another day of life, something you had started doing since getting with Elvis. You noticed the time on the clock and realized that night was drawing near. Feeling a sense of peace and delight, you closed your eyes, ready to embrace the night and all the possibilities it may bring. You felt grateful for the moment and decided to cherish it. As you opened your eyes, you promised yourself to make the most of the night and enjoy every minute of it. 
 Getting up from your vanity's desk, striding to the bathroom with some pep in each step, and starting to wind down for the night by getting ready for a relaxing bath. You entered the bath and soaked in the warm water, letting your mind drift as you reflected on the events of the day. You remembered what Elvis mentioned earlier today, that he'd be getting his hands on a new toy for the two of you. You weren't sure what this toy could be at all, but you were excited to find out. You trusted him to surprise you with something delightful, even if it meant not fully understanding it at first. However, as you soaked in the warm water, trying to relax, you just couldn't help but wonder if this new toy would be something intimate and sensual, considering Elvis' comment about it being an "adult" toy. Regardless of your slight inexperience in this area, you felt safe knowing that Elvis would be there with you. 
 Finally feeling freshened up, you hop out of the bath, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel before heading to the closet. Looking through it, you spotted your new pink babydoll nightie. You couldn't help but beam at yourself, your thoughts going straight to him. Taking it off the hook, you slipped it right on after putting on some simple underwear. You skipped  towards the mirror, admiring how the pink satin fabric draped over your curves and how the lace details accentuated your feminine features. You couldn't wait for him to see you in it, knowing he'd be pleased. He always told you how pretty you were in pink and how it brought out the rosy glow in your cheeks. You turned your back to the mirror, looking back at yourself over your shoulder with a playful grin, then blowing a kiss to yourself, feeling like a ditz just at the mere thought of his approval. Catching the time on the clock through the mirror, you gasped, realizing Elvis would probably be on his way right now. You rushed back to the bathroom and applied some light makeup and a little bit of eyeliner, just the way Elvis liked it. Before letting your hair down and brushing it out, your natural loose curls flowing against the midsection of your back. Finishing up and giving yourself one last glance in the bathroom mirror, your hand naturally reaches to touch the cross on your necklace, a comforting habit you've developed over the past months of being with him.
You take a deep breath, and as you are about to walk out of the bathroom, you can hear the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing. You feel a flutter of excitement in your chest as you know it's him. You were probably so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even hear his arrival. Composing yourself, you slowly walk out into the bedroom, and there he is, standing with his side to you. 
 He turns to you, revealing a better view of his tall and broad frame, slightly pudgy but taut at the same time. As you approach him, you observe just how tall he is, towering over you. His big shoulders stretch out the fabric of his shirt, and his pudgy belly that protrudes just barely over his belt. You can't help but feel small in his presence. Shyly meeting his gaze, you notice a twinkle in his eyes through his glasses, and you can't help but wonder why he held both of his hands behind him. His deep, honey-colored voice echoed off the walls.
 You felt a sense of security wash over you as you listened to him speak. "There's ma sweet baby 𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒍." 
 You practically pounced on him, embracing him in your arms, they hardly reached to hold him all. You nuzzled your face against his hairy chest that was revealed by his open button up, breathing in his distinctive aroma of musk with hints of cigar and his cologne, feeling safe in his embrace. As he held you tightly, you felt like a kitten being cradled in his large and heavy arms. As you pulled away, you gazed into his eyes but everted them due to his intense stare.
 "I missed you." you mumbled as you coyly ran your little digits through his chest hair. 
He then held your lower back tightly with one of his broad hands and kissed your forehead. 
"I missed ya too, ma sweet angel," he replied in his thick, southern drawl. 
As he spoke, you could feel the vibrations of his bass voice reverberating through your body, making you shiver. You knew that no matter what happened, his embrace would always be your safe haven. He looked at you with such intensity that it was practically begging you to look away. You could feel the weight of his gaze, as if he were trying to communicate something without saying a word. It was both exhilarating and unnerving, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Eventually, you broke the silence. 
"What ya thinking about, bub?" you voiced as you poked at him in a girlish manner.
He let out a soft chuckle and shook his head, breaking his intense gaze. You felt relieved but also a little disappointed that you didn't get to uncover the mystery behind those blue eyes. You spotted him looking at you up and down behind his spectacles, and you were overcome with a rush of shyness. You were conscious of how little clothing you were wearing in comparison to him—you were just wearing a pair of underwear underneath your babydoll and were barefoot—as opposed to how fully dressed he was. He kept staring at you, and you could feel your heart pounding and your cheeks flushing. While you were already his, it took some getting used to the impact he had on you. Sometimes he left you almost woozy with the way he handled you. You made an effort to keep his stare in your direction, but soon you had to turn away since the intensity of his gaze became too much to bear. He made a muttering noise and stretched out to firmly grasp your chin to make you look up at him. The coolness of his rings and roughness of his large hand on your warm skin was a dangerous sensation you enjoyed but knew you'd never admit it to him. As he held your gaze, you couldn't help but feel excitement. You wondered what he was thinking as his thumb lightly brushed against your lips, making you shiver with anticipation.
 "Yur jus tha prettiest lil’ thing, ya know that sweetness?" in a low tone. 
You nodded to him with your doe-eyes, trying your hardest not to break eye contact. While holding his gaze on yours, gauging for your reaction, he let go of your face and slowly lifted your nightie to reveal your undies he stroked his fingers over the waistline, letting his icy rings brush across your belly, giving you goosebumps. His face lit up when he saw your choice of underwear, a simple pair of white cotton undies. You couldn't help but be embarrassed by his attention, but you also wondered what else he was thinking as he looked at you. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but you couldn't deny the little thrill you felt of being so intimately inspected. You felt exposed but also desired, and knowing that he was the only one who could make you feel that way made him even more irresistible.
 Letting your nightie drape over you once again, he held out one of his hands. You took it without hesitation, feeling the warmth of his big palm against yours. He leaned in, pressing his lips to your neck and trailing kisses down to your collarbone that left tingling sensations behind. You closed your eyes, trying your best to hold back any noise that urged to escape. 
"C’mon, tiny, give yer ol' man ah lil’ spin," he encouraged whispering into your ear as he leaned back. 
 You agreed compliantly and did a twirl for him, your nightie flowing up a  bit and revealing your clad butt to him, which he whistled at with praise. As you spun around, you couldn't help but feel a rush of giddiness. 
He liked seeing you this way, it was like you were his own little doll. 
 You liked the sense of being entirely in his hands and enjoyed playing, exploring, and being pleased with him. As he continued to admire you, you felt your body responding to his touch, with that fuzzy feeling in your belly and your panties growing slightly damp. You were immediately distracted when you noticed that he still held something behind his back. You wanted him so desperately. The same ache could be seen in his eyes, but you quickly fought the tension that was beginning to grow between your gazes, leaving only want in its wake.  
 "So, w-what exactly is this new toy you were getting t-today..?" You stuttered out as you wriggled towards the arm behind his back in a kittenish manner, but he was faster than you and withdrew away before you could get a good look. 
"Now, darlin’, you go ahead and sit yer lovely self on that bed there and keep those pretty eyes closed f’me, hmm.." was the command he gave in that thick drawl you adored. 
With a sneer look on his face, he gestured to the side of the bed, and you realized there was no use in disagreeing with him. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, wondering what he had in store for you.
 "Alright, babydoll, now hold out them gorgeous things," he said once you were comfortable on the bed with your eyes shut. 
His voice made you shudder, and you extended out your small hands, palms up, as he asked. You could feel something heavy, metallic, and cold being put inside of them, and you couldn't help but want to have a look. You opened your eyes and gasped when you saw a black pistol gleaming in your hands. You were aware that Elvis owned a variety of guns, but since they were lethal weapons, he never brought them near you. You gave him a confused look as you glanced up at him with wide eyes. 
 "Goddamnit, honey, did I tell ya ta open your eyes?'' He voiced it sternly. 
 You quickly shut your eyes again, unable to utter a word. 
 As you sat there in your and Elvis' shared bed with a gun in your hand, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline. You had never held a firearm before, let alone a lethal one. Your heart was racing, and you could feel the weight of the gun pulling down on your dainty arms. You knew you had to trust Elvis, even though you were unsure of his intentions. You tried to calm your thoughts, but the fear of the unknown was getting overwhelming.
 Suddenly, Elvis broke the silence, seeing the way your hands were starting to slightly shake, and said, "Darlin', now go ahead an open 'em pretty doll eyes f'me." 
You slowly opened your eyes, still feeling the rush of adrenaline, and looked up at Elvis. He saw the rushing thoughts in your eyes, making him feel a twinge of guilt but also amusement. He took a few steps back, and it looked like he was admiring the view. 
"Would'ya look ah that, mah two stunnin' girls look great together." He gasped as he stared in awe. 
The way he referred to you and the gun as his girls sent a shiver down your spine, a strange mix of fear and excitement. You never expected to find yourself in this situation, holding a gun in your trembling hands. But deep down, your assurance in God gave you a glimmer of hope that everything would turn out okay. As Elvis looked at you and the gun, you couldn't help but feel a rush of confused emotions. Elvis was looking at your expression, and he couldn't help but be entertained by your confused state, but then he saw as your expression went from confusion to overwhelm. Your rookie self was sitting there with that cold weapon in your trembling hands, looking at Elvis with knitted eyebrows and a pout. He sensed your emotions were becoming too much for you and quickly moved to ease your distress. With a gentle smile, he reached out and gently took the gun from your trembling hands, placing it safely out of reach on the bed.
 "I ain't mean ta startle ya, tiny. I ain't gon hurt cha." He said it softly, soothing your nerves slightly. 
You nodded hesitantly, still unsure of what was happening.
 "Good," he ushered as he stroked down on your hair, putting a strand behind your ear. 
You took a deep breath and tried to process what was happening. So this was the 'new toy' he went to get today—a gun. Elvis was known for his extravagant gifts and gestures, but this was different. He had presented you with a gun, and although he said it was out of reach now, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. You continued to observe him, searching for answers, but he simply leaned in closer. 
"I trust ya, baby," he said, his voice low and smooth. 
"And I need ya to trust me too." You couldn't deny the allure of his charm, but the fear in your gut was still present. You had no idea what he was implying here. 
"El-" you tried to speak before Elvis interrupted you. 
"Now before you say anythin' darlin', lemme explain. Last night, ..." he paused, "it's just I had a thought, and, w-well, maybe I was wonderin' if you'd like ta bring that beaut into the bedroom, hmm? What d'ya say?" 
 You were taken aback by Elvis’ request and unsure of how to respond. Your gut was telling you to be wary, but you also didn't want to offend or disappoint him. Elvis was now taking off his slightly tinted glasses and placing them on the bedside table. Your eyes connected once again with his sense of urgency.
 "I understand if ya ain’t comfortable with it," he said softly, his words rolling off his tongue like sweet velvet, "but I jus thought it'd be fun ta try s-somethin' different, somethin' new, together." 
You weren't sure why, perhaps it was the brief tingling sensation that still lingered after your body responded to his touch from the events that occurred not so long ago, but there was something about his request that gave you a rouse deep down. Pushing that feeling away almost quickly and coming back to your senses and reality, you wondered how a gun would do any good in a setting of intimacy, which led your thoughts to race once again. Handguns are made for killing, they are no better for anything else, as you thought. 
 Building up the courage to speak, you expressed, "E-Elvis, I don't really understand, why, why you'd want to involve an item like that i-in our intimate space." 
Elvis looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he let out sternly, "Only God knows why, hon', everythin' appears for ah reason, an that is why this idea was sent to me." 
You paused for a moment before timidly looking up at the cross that hung on the wall of the bedroom.
 "Sweetheart, look, you may not comprehend it right now. That may not appear ta be fair. But God knows what he's doin'." Elvis interrupted your thoughts. 
He took your smaller hands in his big ones and gently squeezed them, speaking, "Trust in the Lord with all yur heart, and do not lean on your own understandin', in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight ya paths."
He had just uttered the following words from Proverbs 3:5-6 as he stared into your eyes. It was clear that Elvis was trying to soothe you and help you find peace in your current situation. Giving the cross another glance brought you back to what you had promised yourself at the beginning of the night after prayer, 'to make the most of the night and enjoy every minute of it'. You pondered for a while and thought that certainly this was truly God's notion, and he was leading you to embrace this unexpected and confusing situation as an opportunity for growth and a test of your faith. He was telling you to fulfill that promise right now. 
 As you looked back at Elvis, you felt a sense of calmness and knew that with him by your side and your faith in God, you could handle whatever came your way. Elvis gave you an encouraging look after observing your train of thought. You took a deep breath and decided to let go of any doubts or worries and instead fulfill Elvis' request by taking a leap of faith. While you knew Elvis wouldn't harm you, you were still a little wary about what role that particular object might play in the night's events. Eyeing the firearm where it now lay on the bed. You felt Elvis' large hand come into contact and rest on your bare shoulder, and your head shot back to his face as he gave you a reassuring smile.
 "Don worry, doll," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and affection.
 "I promise it'll all jus’ be like ah playful lil' game." 
With a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness, you sluggishly nodded to him, “Okay-y then.”
He then went to remove his heavy blazer, slipping it off and tossing it somewhere on the bed. You flitched a little at the sudden movement but couldn't tear your eyes away from his piercing gaze. The uncertainty in your eyes was replaced by a flicker of fever as he approached, his confident steps inching closer to you.  As he stood in front of you, he bent down to meet your gaze as you sat still on the bed. His broad shoulders and tall stature seemed to loom over you, emphasizing how bitty you were in comparison. With a coy smile appearing on your lips, you began to play with a lock of your hair, feeling oh so fragile in his presence. He clutched the back of your head and pulled you in close for a passionate kiss. In your overwhelmed state, your hands fumbled clumsily, unsure of where to go. He pulled back, staring into your eyes, and with a rough motion, reached for your arm, pulling you to stand up from the bed. 
You couldn't help but yelp a tiny, "ouch." 
His grip still firmly on your arm, he went and sat himself down on the bed. He pulled you into him right away and made you lay on your tummy beside him, he handled you like a ragdoll and pulled you over so your lower body was draped across his lap. Your uncertainty and exhilaration were both palpable as you lay there, consumed by a mix of confusion and excitement. His actions left your mind spinning, unsure of how to react or what he expected from you.  You felt his big belt buckle rubbing against your bare thigh, as well as feeling his slightly protruding belly pressing against your upper thigh. In a way, it brought you sensations you didn't understand but liked. You felt his large hand rubbing up and down against your back thigh, going higher and reaching under your nightie to your clad bum as he firmly squeezed it. Feeling your face flush at this, though it wasn't new to you, you still felt shy at his actions. He scrunched the bottom of your nightie, pulling it up and revealing your undies to him. 
"My, my, you are jus ah sight for sore eyes, honey." You blushed even deeper as his words sent a shiver down your spine. 
His touch, combined with his compliment, made you feel excitement. You couldn't help but squirm slightly under his firm grip. As his fingers traced the edges of your underwear, teasingly exploring the delicate fabric. Suddenly, you felt the coldness of something gliding up your calf. You glanced over your shoulder to see him holding the gun. Your heart raced as a million thoughts ran through your mind. Was he really about to use the gun in such a way? You gulped nervously, unsure of what to expect next. His eyes locked with yours, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he brought the gun more upward across your leg, grazing the tip softly over your delicate skin. You slightly moved to lift your upper body, feeling overwhelmed by this new situation.
 Softly you stammered, "Wait... E-Elvis...". His eyes softened as he looked at your frazzled state. 
“I want no harm done ta ma baby doll, hmm, it's only ah little fun," he rasped out. 
"Y'know I'll always take care of ya.” he caresses you with one hand while the pistol rests in the other along your thigh. 
 You start to feel more at ease as he reassures you, and gives you an encouraging look. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing thoughts. As you glance down at the pistol resting on your thigh, you look back at him and give him a timid but sweet grin. While keeping an eye on the pistol, your gaze shifts to the cross on the wall in front of you, providing a comforting sense that everything will be alright. He steadily starts to bring the gun more upward, grazing it on your back thighs and in-between them, slowly inching higher until it reaches over your clothed backside. 
 Despite the unsettling nature of the situation, your mind becomes foggy and your senses dulled. That fuzzy sensation rises as he traces the contours of your back thighs and rear end with the cool touch of the gun, heightening a mixture of nerves and anticipation. He brought his other hand to your hair, grabbing it, making you turn to look at him, and the way he ran the gun across your body left a trail of goosebumps along your precious skin.  
 In that moment, time seems to stand still as you stare into his eyes, a mix of fear and curiosity swirling within you. You watch as he inches the gun towards your undies, dragging it slowly along the fabric, teasingly close to the sensitive skin underneath. Your breath hitches, your heart pounding in your chest, as you wonder what he has planned next. Every nerve ending in your body is on edge, ready to experience the unknown.
 As the gun hovers just above the edge of your undies, you can't help but let out a shaky breath, a silent plea for reassurances. He eyes you as he starts sliding the pistol in between you and the fabric, his gaze filled with both mischief and desire. The cool metal of the gun grazes against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His other hand lets go of your hair and brings it to caress the cheek of your face, lightly squeezing it. With one hand gripping the gun and the other now firmly holding your face, he leans back slightly, to admire you. The contrast between his strong, supple thighs and your petite frame as you lay across his lap sends a jolt of anticipation through his body. As you rest against him, you can't help but feel both breathless and eager for what lies ahead. He chuckles softly, enjoying your muzzy state and the way your lips are slightly parted. 
"Mah sweet yittle baby is doin' so good f'me." You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and arousal. 
His deep, even-keeled voice sends shivers down your spine as you obediently keep still, not daring to make a sound. The weight of his hand on your face is both comforting and controlling—a reminder of how much you love pleasing him and giving your all to him. As he continues to stroke your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, you can't help but surrender further to his control. The intensity of his gaze holds you captive, his eyes piercing into your soul, leaving you feeling displayed and vulnerable. Every word he speaks feels like a command, and you are eager to comply, to show him just how much faith you have in him. He lets go of your face and directs his attention back to your clad bottom, the gun still grazing under the fabric on your buttocks as he inched closer to your dulcet parts. 
 But then he stops and reaches with his other hand, coming into contact with the waistband, and swiftly pulls them down to your mid thighs, revealing your bare ass, and slowly but firmly starts grazing the gun over it. Every nerve ending in your body is on high alert, acutely aware of your every movement. 
 Each stroke is calculated, leaving a trail of electrifying sensations in its wake. As the gun traces its path along your rear, you can't help but feel a strange mix of pleasure and danger—an intoxicating concoction that leaves you craving for more. You feel a tad bit jittery but stiffen as you feel him bring the pistol along your tailbone and drag lower along the middle of your buttocks, going lower until he reaches that sensitive area between your thighs. Your heart pounds in your chest, matching the rhythm of your quickened breaths. 
 He notices your state and coos again, questioning softly this time, "Tiny's doin' such ah good job fer me, ain't she?" 
Your cheeks flush deeper with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement as you nervously nod to him over your shoulder, yearning for his approval. 
As he continues to explore the sensitive area between your thighs, you can't help but feel a ripple of pleasure and shock shoot through your body when he presses the cold metal against your heat.
 "Oh—mmph," you gasp lowly, your words muffled by the intensity of the moment. 
The sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before—a tantalizing mix of pleasure and the forbidden. As he continues to tease you with the cold metal, your mind becomes consumed with a dizzying array of thoughts. You find yourself surrendering to the intoxicating pull, losing yourself in the overwhelming sensations that ripple through your body. 
Elvis sees this and smirks, his grip on the gun tightens, rubbing it against your sensitive core, as he slowly speaks, "You enjoyin' that doll? See, I knows what's best for ya." 
You're too overwhelmed to respond, the mixture of fear and arousal fueling a confusing rollercoaster of emotions within you. He takes a peek and sees how your flesh is pressed against the pistol, he lets out a low chuckle, seeing the slickness of your arousal starting to glisten along the gun. 
"Oh, y’dirty lil' girl." he murmurs out in his smooth voice. 
The physical sensations and his words, combined with the undeniable evidence of his growing desire against your thigh, heighten your anticipation, leaving you flushed. Your face probably looks like a tomato by now, but all you can do is bite down on your lip from the new sensations you're feeling. Elvis decides to push the boundaries as he brings the pistol back up along the middle of your ass, leaving your throbbing core, but this time he goes in-between your cheeks, catching a view of your small hole. You shift in his lap as you feel the cool air hit it, and your breath hitches in response. The charged atmosphere is heavy as Elvis slowly traces the outline of your anus with the muzzle of the pistol, teasingly applying gentle pressure. Your mind races with panic at the unfamiliar commotion, and you try to slowly crawl further toward the bed and away from his lap. He had never been so close to that area, and the intrusion by gun both jarred and frightened you, you felt it was getting too much for your little self. 
 "Wha-, no-o, not there!" you shrieked out in a high pitched voice, hoping he would attend to your plea. Elvis smirked, his hold on you loosening. 
"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered huskily, his voice appearing playful.
 "Is this too much fer mah yittle baby," he said, as he withdrew the gun from your prohibited area. 
You relaxed, still feeling the tingling in your belly but also having scattered emotions. He went and placed his heavy hand on the small of your back and leaned down to kiss your bottom before giving it a light slap.
 "Y’were so darn good, f'me doll." He cooed out as he gripped your arm roughly, lifting you up from your lying position along his lap. 
You stumbled slightly as he pulled you up, your body still feeling weak from the intensity of the moment. As he guided you to your feet, his grip on your arm tightening, you couldn't help but feel a mix of conflicting emotions, excitement, and danger. You balanced yourself, feeling your nightie drape back down, but then heard the slight noise of your undies hitting the carpet under you near your feet, causing a sudden rush of embarrassment to flood over you. You glanced down, and so did he, both of you eyeing the wet stain you had left on them from the actions that had just taken place. Your cheeks flushed crimson, and you quickly looked away, playing with your fingers. 
 He couldn't help but smirk at the sight of your damp undies. Elvis stood up from the bed and towered in front of you, his presence commanding the room. You could feel the intensity of his gaze as he leaned closer, bringing his larger hand to gently pet your head. He then gripped your head towards him, his voice low and filled with a mix of desire and control. 
 "Did ya enjoy that, Tiny?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. Your heart raced as you met his intense gaze, unable to speak. 
You nodded silently, feeling a wave of anticipation and curiosity wash over you. 
His smirk broadened as he noticed your reaction—a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. Slowly, he released his grip on your head and leaned in, kissing your forehead softly. Then he took your lips in a slow, passionate kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. As his enormous hands wandered down your body, the intensity of the moment grew, causing your body to respond eagerly. Your brain goes fuzzy once more, as your nipples harden under your silk pink nightie. As his hands trailed down your smaller frame, his touch felt intense and electrifying. His lips left yours and began to trail a path of kisses along your jawline, down the column of your neck, and to the hollow of your throat. 
Your breath quickened, mingling with his as he pressed his body closer to yours, the feeling of his pudgy belly and big buckle adding a comforting weight against you. His desire was evident in the way his large hands gripped your teeny waist. His bulge grazed against your upper abdomen, and a surge of anticipation coursed through your veins, heightening the electricity between you. You felt yourself growing hotter, the slick between your thighs was starting to ooze out even more, causing your legs to clamp together involuntarily.  Elvis caught this, and his lips curled into a mischievous smile. He leaned in closer, and brought his hand to squeeze your breast over the silk fabric. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you gasp softly. His fingertips danced over the hardened bud, teasing and caressing, as his other hand trailed down your back, giving your ass a light but firm squeeze. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, as the heat between you became almost unbearable. You could feel his desire pulsating against you, almost matching the rhythm of your racing heartbeat. He then dragged his hand down your body until it met the hem of your nightie, his touch tracing the delicate fabric.  
The impatience built within you, as you yearned for him to explore further. His massive hand continued its journey, inching lower and lower, until it reached under and to the center of your innermost desires. With a tender yet possessive grip, he cupped your exposed, sopping core, sending a buzz of electricity through your entire being. He starts softly caressing your sensitivity, carefully switching between light strokes and firmer pressure. 
 "God, darlin', yur drippin' like honey down there," he whispered huskily in your ear. 
The weight of his hand, combined with the coolness of his rings, made it impossible to control the rising tide of pleasure that threatened to consume you. As he continued his intimate touch, you could feel the heat building within you, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through your whole body, making your toes curl and your back arch. Elvis eyed your expression, your scrunched eyebrows, shut eyes, the slight agape of your small mouth, revealing just how lost in the moment you were. He smiled mischievously and pulled his hand away from your heat, leaving you feeling a sudden void that sent a shiver down your spine. You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze filled with amusement. The air around you crackled with anticipation as he leaned in closer, his warm breath grazing your earlobe. 
"How ‘bout we take this lil' nightie off ya, doll?" Your cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and nervousness as his words sent a rush of tingles down your body. 
With a subtle nod, you allowed him to take control, trusting him entirely. 
He gestured for you to lift your arms up, and he carefully slipped the delicate fabric over your head, revealing the curves and daintiness of your body beneath. His gaze seemed to appreciate every detail, from the suppleness of your breasts to the gentle curve of your hips. As the nightie hit the ground, you stood facing him, captivating him with your shy yet alluring presence. He brought his hands to your boobs, kneading them, causing a surge of pleasure to ripple through your body. 
He admired them in his large hands, "You jus got tha prettiest, perkiest pair ah titties I've ever laid eyes on," he whispered in his drawl. 
You blushed deeply, even though he'd always say the same thing every time he saw them. 
 He leaned down into your breasts and placed gentle kisses along the curve of each one, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled further down, exploring the softness of your stomach and the curves of your waist. You arched your back, allowing him to trail his kisses down your abdomen, leaving a trail of heat on your soft skin. He started lowering himself until he almost got to your heat. 
He looked back up at you as he spoke out, "M'gon take ah look at cha doll parts, ok? darlin'." His voice was filled with a mix of lust and tenderness.
 With a mumbled "A-Alright", you watched as he positioned himself lower between your thighs, his eyes locked with yours, before you interrupted.
 "W-Wait, I don't want you t'get h-hurt on your knees." Elvis having health issues, you couldn't help but worry and didn't want him putting strain on his knees due to his age. 
"Don't cha worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. Daddy's takin' good care ah himself." He reassured you with a gentle smile, his hands caressing one of your thighs. 
The concern in your eyes lingered, but his words provided some comfort. Slowly, he lowered his gaze to your throbbing heat, and a mischievous smirk played on his lips. 
"But right now, I think there's sumn else that needs mah attention," he whispered huskily, "M'doll is lookin' so pretty an pink down here." 
You felt a rush of heat spread throughout your body as his words sank in. 
His touch on your thigh sent shivers down your spine, but you couldn't help but feel torn between his desire and your worry for his well-being. However, as his hand moved closer to your throbbing heat, you found yourself giving into his touch, unable to resist the temptation that lay before you. He grazed his fingers against your hot flesh, feeling you shudder under his touch. 
As he leaned his face closer to your heat, he mumbled, "So perfect, jus f'me." 
He stuck his tongue out, giving your cunt a slow, tantalizing lick that made your body arch in pleasure. The intensity of the moment washed away any remaining doubts as you surrendered yourself completely to the passion and desire coursing through your veins. A symphony of soft moans filled the air as he continued to explore every inch of your moistness with his skilled tongue. He reached over and forcibly pulled one of your legs over his shoulder while the other remained balancing your posture and allowing him better access to your throbbing core. His hands firmly gripped your hips, holding you in place as his tongue delved deeper, swirling and flicking with expert precision. He pressed his face closer into your heat, feeling his nose graze your bud, sending electrifying tingles of pleasure throughout your body. The intensity of his actions sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, causing your toes to curl up and your breath to hitch in your throat. Every sensation seemed to be intensified, with every touch and movement driving you closer to the edge of bliss. Your itty-bitty fingers found their way into his hair, pulling gently as you gave in to the overwhelming pleasure he was providing. 
 As he continued to devour you with his mouth, his hands roamed your trembling thighs, gripping them firmly as he held you in place. With each flick of his tongue and every gentle nip, the tension within you built, threatening to push you over the edge. You could feel your body arching towards him, desperate for release. The world around you faded into a hazy blur, leaving only its raw intensity.
 "Elvis-s...feels s-so good," you managed to gasp, your weak voice barely a whisper. 
The words hung in the air, heavy with desire and need. His movements became more fervent, his lips and tongue working in perfect sync to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. You could feel the slight familiar heat pooling between your thighs, your senses heightened as you yielded completely to the pleasure he was giving you. The sounds of your tiny gasps and the lapping of his tongue filled the room, creating a trance of pleasure that echoed in your ears, only pushing you more over the edge. Your body trembled with need, yearning for release, as the intensity of his mouth consumed you. Every nerve-ending tingled with pleasure, the sensation was electric and intoxicating. 
 With each passing second, the climax grew within you, the waves of pleasure crashing against your core. Your nails dug into his shoulders, desperately clinging to him as you rode the wave of ecstasy. His hands, strong and sure, held you steady, supporting your weight as you surrendered to the dizzying pleasure coursing through your body. Lost in the moment, you gasped for air, your breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. His mouth continued its assault on your dripping cunt, his tongue expertly flicking and teasing your swollen clit. Every touch sent electric shocks of pleasure through your overstimulated body, making it hard to think or speak. You tried to push his head away, tell him you needed a break, that you were reaching your limits, but he was stubborn as he continued licking up your release and savoring every drop. The intensity of his actions had you teetering between ecstasy and displeasure, your mind going numb. 
 As you struggled to regain control of your senses, you found yourself yanking his hair and grasping at his shoulder, trying to bring him back up to your embrace, but he wouldn't budge. The conflicting sensations of pleasure and sensitivity overwhelmed you, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably. 
 Finding your voice, "Too much-h..t'much, daddy-y." 
You gasped, your voice trembling with a mixture of pleasure and a hint of discomfort. His actions had pushed you to the edge, and you needed him to ease off, even if just for a moment. As you tugged at his thick hair, you could feel his lips curl into a devilish smile against your skin. His grip tightened around your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he continued to ravish you with his mouth. The intensity of his action nearly blurred your vision, and he pulled away to give you a look. You felt relieved but were still in a gasping and quivering mess as he held your hips to calm you and keep you steady. 
"M'sorry doll, seems like papa bear jus can't get ‘nough uh yer sweet honey," he murmured, his voice filled with appetite. You give a timid smile as you try to regain thoughts.
 With a strength you had never seen before, he rose from his knees, towering over you. His eyes glimmered with a mixture of hunger and adoration as he stared down at you, you couldn't help but rest your body against his from slight exhaustion. In that moment, he saw you as his cherished doll, a testament to his faith in him and the divine guidance bestowed upon both of you.  As he stood before you, you noticed a subtle shift in his posture, he adjusted himself, making his bulge more prominent. You couldn't help but feel a surge of desire as his confidence and craving for you became increasingly evident. And as your fingers grazed across his hairy chest, finally breathing steadily again, he couldn't contain his passion any longer. 
He took hold of your waist firmly, pulling you closer to him and gently guiding you towards the bed. Lying your naked, slender body down, grabbing the small cross that hung around your neck, he paused for a moment, his eyes fixated on the symbol. The contrast of the saintly necklace against the sinful scenario heightened the vague nature of it all. With a passion fed by the shared devotion, he kissed the cross, then left kisses against your collarbone and chest, moving lower, leaving a trail of holy desire across your skin. The sight in front of you made you purr with anticipation, every nerve in your body aflame with a mix of excitement and a tinge of fright. And in that intimate moment, the boundaries between sacred and profane melted into an ecstasy that intoxicated both body and soul. As he trailed more kisses towards your belly, he looked at you, eyeing him, he got up from the bed, and you sat up slightly to see as he tugged at his tucked shirt from his waistline and started unbuttoning it. 
  Your heart races with suspense, desire igniting within you as you watch him undress. The sight of his pudgy yet strong physique only intensifies your desire for him, appreciating every special detail. In this moment, he is perfect to you, captivating you with his raw masculinity and genuine desire. As he finally removes his shirt, your eyes drink in every detail, savoring the sight of his wiry chest and abdomen hair. The beads of sweat already glistening on his skin only add to his allure, making him appear even more irresistible. He watches as you're in awe of his beauty, a smug smile appearing on his face. He knows the effect he has on you, and revels in the power it gives him. Slowly, he walks towards you, his steps deliberate and confident. You can feel your heart race, and your breath quickens. 
"Y'wanna try helpin’ me wit these, lil' girl?" His words flowed smoothly from his lips with that mesmerizing southern accent, the drawl adding a touch of charm to his request to help him with his pants. 
You sit up more and inch closer, your legs dangling from the bed as you try to gather the courage to respond. 
"P-Please, I'd like... to," you stammer at him sweetly in that soft voice he adores , your cheeks flushing with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. 
 As you reach out to assist him, your fingertips graze over the firm bulge in his pants, making you momentarily lose focus. You quickly retract your hand, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood through your body. He chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watches your reaction. Your cheeks grow even hotter as you meet his gaze. He stares into your doe-eyes, his smile never faltering. 
"No need ta be afraid, hon’. Y'seen him before," he says, his voice filled with a hint of mischief.
 You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure, knowing it would be the first time seeing it so up close. 
With a nervous laugh, you reply, "Yes, b-but... not like this." 
He can't help but chuckle louder, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. 
"Well, darlin', consider it an introduction then," he teases, his touch sending shivers down your spine. 
 Despite your flustered state, you manage to regain composure and slowly begin undoing his big belt buckle, the trembling in your hands being noticeable. As you struggle with the clasp, you can't help but notice the stark difference in the size between his buckle and your hands. His deep chuckle vibrates through you, a sound of amusement. With determined focus, you finally manage to loosen the belt, feeling a surge of confidence wash over you. And reach over to his zipper, your voice small and shaky. 
"C-Can I...can I undo this too?" you ask, biting your lip nervously.
His eyes lock with yours, a mixture of adoration and desire shining through. 
"Uh course, my yittle baby can do anythin' she wants," he whispers huskily, his hands caressing your flushed cheeks. 
 You start bringing his zipper down, and as you do this, Elvis' heavy hand goes and gives your supple breast a light squeeze, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The touch is both gentle and possessive, sending a surge of electricity through your body. You can feel the heat between your legs rise as you continue to undo his zipper, revealing his hard on as it springs out, you can't help but let out a tiny gasp as it captures you with his size and girth up close. Despite not wearing any underwear, his arousal is evident on his glossy red tip as a bead of precum glistens at the slit. Your curiosity grows as you bring your shaky hand to give him a teasing stroke from base to tip, feeling the throbbing pulse of his large member in your hand. The combination of his commanding presence and your newfound control ignites a fiery desire within you. 
 Your heart racing, never having done this before, you looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
 "Is this-s okay?" you asked in a shy, uncertain voice. 
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he gently placed a hand on your cheek. 
In his deep, southern accent, he reassured you, "Doll, ain't nothin' to be shy bout’. Yer doin' just fine. Keep goin' like that, nice an slow."
 As you held his cock in your hand, you marveled at its size and how it felt, barely fitting against your palm. With every stroke, you tried to mimic the rhythm you'd seen him do before when he'd spew himself on your tummy. The softness of his touch on your cheek reassured you, making you feel more at ease with each passing moment. As deep, low groans started flowing out of his mouth, you felt yourself grow more wet. His grip tightened on your cheek. The sound of his pleasure, mixed with the rush of the moment, sent shivers down your spine. You kept stroking him as you eyed it in front of you, glistening with anticipation. The sight of his throbbing member made your heart race, fueling your desire even further. His breathing became heavy, and the way his hips involuntarily bucked against your touch made it clear how much he was enjoying this moment as well. As you continued to stroke him, you felt his grip tug at your face to move closer to his manhood.
 Panic shot through you as you gazed up at him with wide eyes and knitted eyebrows, unsure of what he wanted next. 
"Awh, darlin’, don be scared," he whispered lovingly, his voice filled with tenderness. 
"Jus wants ya to give him some gentle kisses, show me how much ya adore me," he said, his words both soothing and tempting. 
You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart as you processed his request. This was so new to you, you'd never felt his with your lips or hands before. Slowly, you leaned in closer, your lips hovering just above his shaft. You could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and with a mix of nervousness and desire, you pressed your lips against him, planting soft, delicate kisses along the length of his throbbing member. As you pressed your lips against him, his scent filled your senses, it was a distinct aroma that aroused you even further, making your heart race with want. The way his flesh felt on your lips was like velvet—soft and smooth, yet with a subtle roughness that made it all the more exhilarating. You could feel his pulse throbbing beneath the surface, echoing the desire coursing through your own body. 
 He reached out to hold your face, making you look up at him as he ran a swipe across your lips with his thumb, "How bout' cha give him ah lil’ taste, baby," he whispered in a low, commanding voice. 
 The words sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned with a mixture of nervousness, knowing it'd be your first time taking him in your mouth. With a shaky breath, you obediently parted your lips, allowing him to guide his throbbing shaft towards your waiting mouth. As the tip grazed your tongue, a surge of electricity shot through your body, causing your senses to heighten and your arousal to intensify. You could taste the saltiness of his arousal mingled with a hint of his musky scent, a heady combination that intoxicated you further. 
 As you slowly began to take him in, your mouth stretching and adjusting to accommodate his size, a mixture of pleasure and slight discomfort washed over you. You were a bit clumsy and couldn't help but gag a little at first, trying to relax and focus on your breathing. Your rookie inexperience was evident, but you were willing to please him. Slowly, you went just past his tip trying to find your own pace and rhythm. You felt him buck into you, making you tense up a little and unconsciously attempt to back away a little, he then firmly brought his broad hand to the back of your head. 
"Relax, f'me doll, jus wanna feel more of tha pretty little mouth," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. 
You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to panic as you looked up at him with your big eyes. 
 His grip on your head tightened slightly, guiding himself deeper into your mouth. Starting to gag, you struggled to maintain control and suppress the instinct to pull away. The taste of him overwhelmed your senses, and the musky scent of his skin filled your nostrils. As his hand continued to grip your head, his pace quickened, and you could feel his desire building. Your mind raced with a mixture of fear and arousal, unsure of how to navigate this new territory. 
 His other hand went to caress your face, giving it a soft slap, "Doin' so good, tiny," he groaned out. 
The sensation of his hand connecting with your cheek sent a jolt of conflicting emotions through your body. You felt the corners of your mouth starting to burn due to the stretch from his size, and you couldn't help but squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming sensations. The intensity of the moment was almost too much to handle, but you liked this, you liked the thrill of exploring uncharted territory with him. It was a delicate dance between pleasure and pain, and you found yourself surrendering to the unknown. As his hand continued to explore your face, you felt him trying to horse himself in deeper, but you weren't letting him as you brought your hands up to rest against his upper thighs.
 He brought his large palm to stroke your throat, breathing out, "C'mon, baby, r-relax tha itty-bitty throat ah yours."  
His voice was low and velvet-like, sending shivers down your spine. You hesitated for a moment, but you did as he said. As you did this, he bucked straight to the back of your throat, almost fitting his whole shaft inside. The sudden intensity took you by surprise, causing a gag reflex to kick in. You fought against it, as you let out a tiny cry that sent vibrations to his cock and only seemed to heighten his pleasure. The tip of your nose is just barely grazing against his pubic hair. The sensation of his soft curls against your skin sent a jolt of electricity through your body, fueling the fire that was already burning within you. 
You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and the scent of his arousal filled the air around you. 
 As he thrust deeper into your mouth, your eyes began to water. The taste of him, slightly salty and intoxicating, lingered on your tongue, further abusing your senses. Your mind became a blur of sensations, the taste of him, the pressure against your throat, and the sound of his ragged breaths. He groaned above you, the sounds of your sweet muffled yelps and his cock hitting the back of your throat seemed to just rile him up more. But just as he was reaching the edge, he suddenly stopped himself. Harshly, he pulled out of your mouth, his length glistening with arousal and your saliva. 
 "Goddamn, honey!" he panted, his voice filled with lust. 
You gasped for air, your lips still tingling from his intense assault. Your eyeliner smudged from the force of his movements, matching the chaotic state of your mind. The taste of his saltiness lingered on your tongue, intertwining with the bitter sensation of adrenaline that coursed through your veins. You went to wipe your lips, feeling the mess of him and your drool covering your soft lips and chin, but he grabbed your hand before you could clean yourself up. His eyes locked with yours, and he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, sealing the taste of him on your lips in a deliciously filthy embrace. He pulled back, seeing your puzzled state, and reached up to clean some of your smudged eyeliner with the pad of his thumb. 
"Lordy, girl, ya sure make this old man feel young again," he chuckled, his voice laced with passion. 
You felt a rush of warmth surge through your body at his words. Not having a chance to answer, he gripped your face closer, giving you a harsher kiss. 
As he pulled back from the kiss, his grip on your face tightened, and he forcefully guided you back down onto the bed. You let out a low gasp at his sudden roughness as you lay there, arousal coursing through your veins. The sound of his pants and buckle hitting the carpet was heard in the room, only making you more aware of the intensity of the moment. You couldn't help but bring your hand and rub your small digits over your cunt, the ache almost paining you. Elvis saw the way you were growing needier and needier, and he let out a low chuckle. As he climbed onto the bed, the mattress shifted underneath you, sending shivers down your spine. You glanced up at him with your doe eyes, feeling both needy and shy at the same time. His gaze intensified, and his lips still formed a smirk, he brought his hand down over yours and pulled it away to catch a look at your throbbing core, glistening with desire. 
"M’god, yur all rosy an swollen," he teased, and he went to cup it in his hefty palm, relishing in the wetness that coated his fingers. 
You felt your body jolt at his touch, showing just how sensitive you were. Your breath hitched as he continued to stroke you, his fingers dancing lightly over your pulsing center. Giving your pussy two light slaps to heighten your arousal, he chuckled lowly, reveling in the way you flinched. He pulled his hand away and positioned himself in front of you as he pulled your legs apart and made them bend so that your knees were raised, exposing your most intimate area more to him. You watched as he reached for something, a dark glimmer in his eyes. As he retrieved the pistol another time tonight, a rush of anticipation and fear coursed through your veins once again. 
"It's alright, doll. Only wanna have more fun wit cha." The mix of arousal and trepidation overwhelming you. 
"O-Oki," you mumbled softly after some time, your voice barely audible as you tried to steady your racing heart. 
 You watched as he moved closer between your legs and raised his arm over to your face, grazing the barrel along your cheek and slowly moving it towards your mouth. You look at him, and he gestures to open your mouth. You're hesitating, but comply. He swiftly inches the cold metal into your hot mouth as it grazes over your tongue, it tastes metallic and foreign. You can feel the weight of it against your tongue, the coolness spreading throughout your mouth. He slowly moves it in and out of your mouth, staring at him, his expression filled with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. As the cold metal continues to dance against your tongue, you feel him withdraw it as a string of your saliva comes along the tip of the metal. You can't help but shudder at the sensation, a mixture of discomfort and a strange, illicit pleasure. He brings the gun down along your neck, brushing against your necklace, then to your chest, tracing a chilling path along your skin. The metal's touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Bringing the gun to your breast, he traces it over your hardened nipple. You let out a shaky breath.
"Daddy-y," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and desire. 
He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he replies, "Does it excite cha, doll?" 
Your heart races as you nod, unable to form words. 
Your body hums with anticipation as he continues his tantalizing exploration. The cold metal trails down your abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moan threatening to escape your lips. He stops the gun just above your lower abdomen, his fingers gently tracing circles across your sensitive skin. 
His voice drips with seduction as he murmurs huskily, "You want more, don't ya, tiny?" 
Your breathing quickens, as you notice how close he is to your aching cunt. Gulping, you watch as he hovers it just above the bundle of nerves with a quick motion. You reach to stop him, your mind filled with hesitation. But he was quick to raise his hand with the gun in his grip. 
“Aye now, none of that babydoll, hmm.” he asserts firmly.
You brought your balled up fists to rest on your chest and gave him an understanding pout, letting him graze the gun on your bud. As he does, a mixture of fear and excitement surges through your body. The dangerous thrill intensifies as you feel the cool metal brush against your hot, sensitive flesh. Your soft whimpers escape in short gasps as he rubs the barrel along your outer lips. As the tension builds, his touch becomes more deliberate, tracing the outline of your entrance with the cold barrel. Your heart pounds in your ears, and you feel yourself tense up as you feel him trying to push the gun inside you. 
 "Wait, wait!" you stammered, your voice trembling with nervousness. 
"Is-isn't.. this, too dangerous Elvis?" you stumbled over your words, feeling hazy and disoriented. 
The rush of adrenaline mixed with fear creates a dizzying sensation, clouding your thoughts and making it difficult to articulate your concerns. He looked at you with a stubborn expression, his gaze unwavering. 
"Come on, darlin," he said, his eyes gleaming with desire.
 "'Member why wer doin' this hmm, the Lord struck me with this vision, and I ain't one ta ignore His call." His words echoed in your mind, intertwining with the doubts that swirled within you.
 The weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders, he leaned in towards you. Placing his forehead against yours as his grip on the gun continues toying with your entrance for access. 
"No, no," you stammer, your voice shivering. 
"I don't— f-feels wrong." 
Fear grips your heart as his eyes bore into yours, a flicker of anger crossing his face. His grip tightens around the gun, pushing against your opening.
 "Don't cha understand?" he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and fervor.
 "This is tha path we must walk together, doll, guided by His will." 
Your mind races, the conflicting emotions tearing at your soul. You look into his eyes and see a glimmer of hope—of someone who believes in something greater than themselves. In the midst of the intense moment, mingling with your feelings of desperation, you seek divine guidance. You hold onto the belief that, through this unsettling path, you and Elvis are bound by a higher purpose, walking together under the will of a greater power. As the intensity builds, Elvis places a hand on your cheek, seeing how your racing thoughts are slowly starting to disappear. 
"Attagirl, trust in Him, in Me." he uttered in his soothing drawl. 
As you look into Elvis' eyes, you find solace in his words and the comfort of his touch. In that moment, you give him a nod and surrender to the newfound growing faith, allowing yourself to trust in a higher plan. The pressure against your center intensifies as he continues rubbing it with the gun. Despite the unease, you remain connected through the shared purpose and the touch of his hand on your cheek. You feel as he retracts the gun from your entrance and backs up along your clit trying to give you pleasure in the midst of your discomfort, his movements becoming more deliberate and controlled. The combination of unease and pleasure leaves you bewildered, yet strangely more aroused. Your mind struggles to comprehend the conflicting sensations, but your body responds instinctively, arching towards his touch. He watches as you enter a state of bliss once more, the pistol getting easier to glide along your folds from all your slick. Inching the gun back towards your entrance, he presses it against you with a firm yet gentle pressure. 
"Quit clenchin', honey," he grumbled, his breath tickling your ear. 
You try to relax, and let go of the fear that still lingers in the back of your mind. As he eases the pistol's tip inside you, the cold metal sends shivers down your spine, contrasting with the warmth radiating from your core.
 "Look at cha tiny, yur doin' purfect." he purrs out as he lifts himself from hovering over you to take a look at how your cunt clenches at the muzzle. 
 As he begins to move it in a slow, rhythmic motion, you can't help but be amazed at the conflicting sensations overwhelming your body. The fear that once gripped you tightly begins to fade away, replaced by curiosity. The coldness of it all sends shivers down your spine. Elvis feels a mix of satisfaction, desire, and a hint of surprise as he sees how your body responds to his actions. He puts more of the pistol's barrel in, so you're taking about two inches of the gun. You hear him chuckle as he sees how wet and heated you are, and your face flushes deep with embarrassment. He moves slowly in and out at a delicious pace that has you letting out low gasps and moans of pleasure. As the pleasure intensifies, every movement of the pistol sends waves of ecstasy through your body. The combination of fear and arousal fills the room, creating an electric and forbidden ambience. With each thrust, you tighten around the barrel, your soft gasps and moans blend into a symphony of pleasure, driving him to push slightly deeper into you. The sensation of the cold metal against your walls only heightens the intensity of the moment, as you surrender completely to the dangerous passion enveloping you.
 "Daddy-y..I-." You start to feel that heat pooling in the low part of your belly, spreading through your entire body, reaching your fingertips, and curling your toes.
 Elvis sees that you're on the brink of pure bliss and pulls the pistol out of your throbbing heat, leaving you feeling empty, his eyes filled with hunger. With a mischievous smile, he grazes the pistol against your folds and up to your bud, and you can't help but shudder with anticipation. The cool touch of the metal against your sensitive clit sends a jolt of electricity through your veins. As Elvis continued to tease and taunt, you grabbed his wrist with both hands, barely able to wrap around it and pressed the side of the barrel more firmly against your bud while slowly moving your hips upward. 
Elvis saw this and was amused, smirking, “Look at cha honey, goin' crazy over ah piece of metal.’’
 Lost in bliss, you didn't pay attention to his words, you were so drowsy from the feeling and trying to chase that sensation you craved again. This ticked something in Elvis though, he had gotten jealous over the thought of something else but him giving you such grand pleasure. He yanked the gun from you with a growl, and threw it across the room, you let out a whine while looking at him dumbfounded. 
"N-no, Elvis-s!" You stammer, your voice laced with nerves and frustration. 
"W-Why did you, you do that-t? I was almost-." 
His eyes narrowed, and his voice was filled with annoyance. 
"You was almost wha, huh? Y’were gettin' lost in some dang stupid piece ah metal!" 
You bite your lip, the familiar sensation of nervousness coursing through your veins.
 "but.. but you.." you stutter, confused. 
He shakes his head, his bitterness evident as he moves over so he's resting against the headboard, "I jus... I don like seein' yur little pussy gettin' all soppin' wet if it ain't cause ah me. I ain't gotta be competin’ with no damn gun."  
Your heart races as his words sink in, a mix of desire and uncertainty swirling within you. You bite your lower lip, feeling a sudden rush of excitement coursing through your veins as you sit up and crawl in front of him. 
"But," you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation. 
"I-I was only feeling so, so good b-because you were there w-with me." you said quietly.
 His eyes darken with a dangerous intensity, and a smirk plays at the corners of his lips. His mood instantly switching again.
 "Is that so, doll?" he growls out. 
"I reckon, ya c’mere nd make me feel better then," he gestures you over to his lap with a swift motion. 
Your heart races as you obediently move closer, your body trembling with desire, but nervous hoping he wasn't still angry. As you straddle his lap, you can feel the heat radiating from his body, igniting a fire within you. His strong hands grip your hips firmly, and you can't help but let out a small whimper as you hover above his hard throbbing cock. 
"Why doncha give me ah sweet ride, darlin' '', his blue eyes dark with want. 
You gulp, feeling the weight of his words and the intensity of the moment. With a raised confidence, you slowly lower yourself onto him while holding on to his broad shoulders for support, gasping at the slight stretch. Still not quite used to his size, you feel your legs quiver. His deep groan echoes in your ears as he tightens his grip on your hips, guiding you lower. 
"Lord, honey, this lil' pussy needs sum stretchin'," he blurts out in a low tone. 
You let out a pitiful cry as you took him in fully, your bodies becoming entirely intertwined in a passionate embrace. 
"Oh...oh god," you whine, your voice trembling with pleasure.
 You feel Elvis slowly beginning to thrust upward into your dripping heat, filling you completely with every movement. Each thrust sends waves of intense pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you powerless to resist his advances. As the intensity builds, the rhythm of your bodies matches the beat of your racing hearts. With each deep thrust, you can't help but surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, your senses consumed by the touch of his skin against yours. 
Elvis whispered in your ear, his voice filled with lust and desire, "Y'feel so good, tiny. F-Fuck, can't get enuff of yuh." 
His words sent shivers down your spine, adding to the already intense pleasure you were experiencing. As he continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate, Elvis let out a low moan that echoed through the room. The sound of his moan only fueled your own desire, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. Your body arched against his, seeking more of his touch, more of his passion. 
 The room was filled with the intoxicating scent of his musky scent mixed with a hint of sweat, a potent aphrodisiac that heightened the atmosphere. Each breath you took seemed to draw you deeper into the moment, as if surrounding yourself with his essence would somehow bring you closer to him. The sounds of heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin echoed through the air, creating a trance of pleasure that drowned out all other thoughts.  
 As your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, you couldn't help but run your hands through his chest hair, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips. His groans filled the room, fueling the fire that burned between your legs. The feeling of his large arms wrapped tightly around your small waist provided a sense of security. You felt him ram into you deeper and couldn't help but let out a wail of pleasure as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed you. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, building towards an inevitable climax. His lips found yours, their touch igniting a fire within you that matched the one consuming your every sense. 
You pulled away, “Oh, I, I can-n feel it in m’tummy.” you softly cried out.
 "Is ma yittle d-dolly feelin’ all good in... er t-tummy?" He panted, sending shivers down your spine.  
 "Mhmm," you moaned, barely able to form words as the pleasure intensified. 
As his thrusts continued, the sensation in your stomach intensified—a delicious ache that made you yearn for it. You could feel the tension building, the coiling of desire ready to explode into an overwhelming release. He held you even tighter, his thrusts becoming more passionate. Your vision blurring, you felt his other hand glide over to your bundle of nerves, pushing you to reach your peak of ecstasy. Each movement drew you closer and closer to the edge, until finally, you couldn't hold back any longer. With a breathless cry, you shattered into a million pieces, waves of pleasure washing over you and leaving you completely spent. Collapsing onto his hard yet soft chest, your legs trembled above him as you both basked in the impact of your intense orgasm. You could tell he was still yearning for release, his need was evident as his cock still throbbed and thrust inside you. 
 Catching your breath, you felt him shift underneath you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He flipped you over onto your stomach, positioning you exactly as he desired. You gasped in shock, but your jumbled mind prevented you from fully comprehending the situation. The aftershocks of your orgasm only made you struggle to process what was happening. As he entered you again, every thrust sent waves of pleasure and confusion coursing through your body. His hands firmly gripping your waist, he guided the rhythm, leaving you vulnerable and powerless to resist. Although your mind was clouded, your body arched in response to his commanding touch, willing to surrender once again to his insatiable desires. The weight of him pressed down on you, enveloping you in a delicious mix of pleasure and submission. Every movement seemed to blur the lines between pain and bliss, blurring the boundaries of your own identity. His chest brushed against your bare back, adding an extra layer of sensation to the already electrifying experience. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine, making your breath hitch and mingle with his own ragged exhales. The occasional sound of a low, guttural growl escaped from deep within him, further fueling the fire that consumed both of you. And then, unexpectedly, another climax crept up on you, taking you by surprise and leaving you gasping for air.
"E-Elvis" you wailed out.
Your voice cracked with desperation, and your body quivered with the force of the pleasure coursing through you.
“Mmf, h-hang in there, baby.” He comforted trying to soothe your overstimulated mind and body.
He continued to move against you, his own release imminent, but he didn't falter in his rhythm, driving you to the edge once again. As your mellow moans filled the room, the air crackled with a raw and primal energy, and you could feel the intensity of his desire he was clawing at. The world seemed to blur around you, your senses consumed by the blend of pleasure and drowsiness. Your mind was clouded, lost in a sea of sensations that left you highly sensitive.
 Every touch, every stroke sent electric currents coursing through your body, heightening your pleasure to an almost unbearable level. The intensity became too much to handle, pushing you to the edge of sanity. You felt your body exhausted and your mind going empty, the only thing you could do was clench the sheets beneath you, desperately trying to ground yourself in some semblance of reality. The room around you felt like it was spinning, a dizzying carousel of colors and shadows. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, the air feeling heavy and suffocating against your skin. He lets out a gnawing grunt, pulls himself out, and sits up on his knees. Swiftly stroking himself until he spews his release onto your ass. You feel a sense of relief and soreness as you try to come down from your powerful orgasms and still your breathing. 
 He chuckles weakly, spreading his cum over both of your cheeks with his smooth tip, "T-Tiny, yer lil’ booty sure looks even p-perttier covered with mah babies." he pants out.
If even possible, your face heats up even more at his witty comment, and you gather the strength to look over back at him through half-lidded eyes, the feeling of drowsiness and contentment consuming you.
 "D-did I do good, b-bub?" you murmur, your voice carrying a soft, low tone. He smiles wearily, his hand gently stroking your hair. 
"Y'did more th-than good," he slurs, his voice filled with exhaustion yet affection. 
You are can feel his weariness as he lies back against the pillows, his chest rising and falling heavily as beads of sweat glisten on his forehead. The room is filled with a comfortable silence and your breaths as you both bask in the aftermath of the erotic, hazardous experience. Slowly, he reaches out to caress your cheek, his touch tender and loving. 
"You were perfect…perfect f'me, sweet, yittle, doll," he murmurs, sleep already taking him. 
As his hand caressed your hair, you couldn't help but feel a sense of divine connection. The words wrap around you like a warm blanket, and you know that you have pleased him, fulfilled his message. The intertwining of the pleasure and fear you faced made you question the boundaries of your faith. Still drowsy, you inch closer to Elvis and rest your head against his fluffy, warm chest, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath. You looked up at his face, his eyes were closed in peaceful contentment. The room is dimly lit, with the soft glow from a lamp in the corner as you both lay in each others mess. On the wall, the cross hangs, casting a shadow that dances alongside the gentle sway of his snores. You close your heavy eyelids, cuddling closer to his warmth, succumbing to exhaustion from the nights events as sleep overtakes you both.
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₊ ⊹ Taglist: @18lkpeters @doll-elvis @eliseinmemphis @prompted-wordsmith @rockstarg1rl @dkayfixates @livelaughelvis @honey6578 @girlblogger2002 @justinlovewithjulesvaughn @velvetelvis
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strniohoeee · 2 months
Text
Hidden In The Shadows Pt. 4(Final Chapter)
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Waking up dazed and confused, Y/N is taken by surprise when certain events seem to take place. Unsure of how to feel Y/N battles with the decisions of staying or leaving for good
Warnings⚠️: SADDDDD NGL😭, but like not really but also IDK??? I wasn’t sure how to end this installment, but I know I didn’t want to make it some fairytale type shit LMAOOO
Songs for imagine: Blue Moon- Elvis Presley, Bang Bang(My Baby Shot Me Down)- Nancy Sinatra
Tags: @lacysturniolo @gamermattsgf @nicksmainbitch @s7urnfilms @sturnssmuts @vickyzloserz @mayhem-72 @sturn3g1rl @mattsturniolowifey
Blue Moon
You knew just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayer for
Someone I really could care for
If my mother could see the position I was currently in she’d be so ashamed….disappointed even. She’s always taught me stranger danger and leave it to her daughter to sleep with the stranger and the danger….
I can’t remember much, but I can remember the emptiness….the cold darkness of my mind. My physical body slumps somewhere while my conscious fights to wake me up.
Who knows what’s going on in the real world right now. I could be tied to a pole and slow roasting like a pig, or maybe even locked in someone’s dungeon. Or what if this is all some crazy bad dream and I’m actually back home in my comfortable bed….
My thoughts were slowly coming to a halt as my eyes began to open slowly. Squinting at the sensitivity they were facing I groaned and cleared my throat. The throbbing in my head and the burning of my nose leads me to believe Matt used an awful lot of chloroform to knock me out. He’s lucky he didn’t kill because I’d haunt his ass.
Opening my eyes fully I realized I was tied to a chair in a basement? Oh actually my basement? Looking around I realized I was in the same place I was when Matt caught me.
I began to move against the ropes, pulling and yanking as I groaned in anger.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you” I heard from behind me, causing me to stop and jump
“Who’s there” I asked trying to look over my shoulders
“Why’d you have to be so nosy? Making everything so complicated” I heard him say
“You fucking psycho….Matt let me fucking go” I said pulling harder against the ropes
“You see I just can’t do that” he replied to me walking from behind me
“You fucking weirdo….oh god….oh my god I had sex with a fucking psycho… please just kill me that would be less embarrassing” I say shaking my head and tapping my feet on the ground
Coming from behind me Matt stands in front of me. Except he doesn’t look angry…. He looked concerned and scared. Which made me a bit scared and anxious
“What are you doing?” I yelled at him yanking myself around
“sit still” he said in a firm whisper
“Fuck off” I said in annoyance to him
Grabbing my face to have me look at him I attempted to yank away.
“GET OFF OF ME” I yelled at him trying to bite him
“STOP IT AND LOOK AT ME” he says with wide eyes
Letting go of me he steps back. Looking over his shoulder he turns back to me. Placing his pointer finger over his mouth he motions for me to stay quiet and then with the same finger points behind himself and then points to his ear.
“Listen here darling you’re going to do as I say” he says sternly and loudly
Digging in his back pocket he takes out a piece of paper, unraveling it he faces it to me so I can read.
They’ve been on you this whole time and they used me to get to you. At first I was going to do it, but I like you too much. They’ve been in your house multiple times and have found all the information you have on this town. I’m so sorry for who I am and what my family has done; but I don’t want to hurt you. They are having me watch you while they put all your stuff in your car. They’re planning to kill you and make it seem like it was an accident. However I won’t let that happen. I’m going to get you out of here and I have a plan! But they don’t fully trust me and are listening to me and watching my every move. So please just do as I say. I’m sorry.
After reading the note a tear slipped down my face and I looked up at Matt. His eyes softened and his lip trembled, swallowing thickly he nodded his head. Folding the paper back up he put it in his back pocket.
“You will listen to me and me only! Make any stupid moves and I will kill you myself” he says loudly with a sincere look
“Go to hell” I spat at him
Listening above he heard the two men walk away from the basement door. Ushering over to me quickly he got down and began to whisper
“Okay so here’s the plan. There is only one way out and only one chance to get this right so please do as I say. They’re loading up your car and they’re planning on having me drive you to a secluded area a little outside of this town. They want me to set your car on fire” he says shaking his head and looking down
“What?” I say shocked and beginning to panic
“My getaway car was planted in the area and they will be checking tonight to see that your car is completely burnt. However it won’t be there because you’ll be on your way back to Vegas. You’ll be out of their hair which will give you time to leave Vegas” he says grabbing my hand
“But what about you Matt? They’ll kill you….” I say as my voice shakes
“Exactly” he says nodding his head
“No….no you can’t do that! Come with me” I say to him looking at him in the eyes
“I can’t…they’ll catch up before we leave and we’ll both be dead instantly. Suzie and I tried it when we were 14. Thought we could leave and be young lovers together. They shot her dead in front of me… told me I’d be next if I ever stepped out of line again. You remind me so much of her I can’t see that happen again” he replied wiping tears from his eyes
“Matthew no…. I can’t leave you to die” I say sobbing
“Maybe it’s been my destiny all along” he says to me
“Maybe you can escape right before they come looking for my car. You’d get a good head start on them! Meet me in Vegas. We can run away together” I say nodding my head and licking my tear stained lips
He chuckled lightly and shook his head, opting not to answer as he stood up.
“I need you to walk outside with me when it’s time. Pretend to mouth me off, kick, scream holler! I’ll stuff you in the car and we’ll be on our way” He says to me
“Okay yeah yeah” I respond nodding my head
“But for now we wait” he states, backing up and leaning against the pole.
About thirty minutes passed before we heard anything. Barely mumbling a few words to each other. My throat had run dry from the anxiety. The fact that I could die if one thing goes wrong but mainly the fact that the last moments I’ll be sharing with Matt is him helping me escape my death that will then become his death….. my heart couldn’t take letting him die
He was destined for more. The way his eyes would light up anytime he asked me about what Vegas is like or what any other place I’ve ever visited was like. What stuck with me the most was the way his face would change when he’d realized the life he was living and what he’d have to go back to. The twinkle always disappearing. It made my heart heavy.
I wouldn’t let him die. It’s not happening and I don’t care what I have to do to prevent it. He’s had such a painful life and he’s going to honor it by dying….
My thoughts were interrupted by Matt, my eyes slowly shifting from the basement window over to his face.
“They called us up, I’m going to grab you by the back of your head and I need to just start lashing out immediately, got it?” He asked me
“Got it” I said to him
Quickly helping me out of the rope that held me to the chair he grabbed the back of my head as my arms were tied behind my back.
Gripping my hair harder I knew it was time to give it my all. Taking a shaky breath I began to yell
“LET GO OF ME, YOU AND THIS TOWN A BUNCH OF CRAZIES” I yelled as I thrashed against his grip
“Quit it” he yelled back as he pulled me up the stairs with him
“You think you can get rid of me huh? MY WHOLE FAMILY WILL COME HERE LOOKING FOR YOU” I said firmly
“LET GO LET GOOO” I kept yelling as I pulled against him, tears streaming down my face
He walked us towards the front door and that’s where Beaufort stopped us.
“Such a fiery little lady! I knew from the moment you called you’d be a problem. But one thing about me is I make my problems go away” he says sucking his tobacco and grinning at me
“You won’t get away with this you sick son of a bitch” I spat at him
“Watch me” he said smiling and opening the front door for me
“NOOO STOP NO PLEASEEE” I yelled as I kicked and thrashed against Matt. My legs swinging as I tried to “escape” his grip
“Should’ve stood in your home town. So sad you’ll be having a little accident” Beaufort says to me as he steps onto my porch
“I’ll kill you all just you watch” I yelled as Matt shoved me into the back seats as I continued to kick and hit things
Beaufort smiled an evil smile as he waved goodbye. Matt hopped in the front seat as we began to back out of my gravel driveway.
Driving down the road Matt looked in his rear view mirror before looking at me
“Okay we’re in the clear” he says to me
Sitting up I looked at him opening my mouth to talk but stopping once I saw him shaking his head no at me.
“You can’t get me to change my mind” he says
“Matt this is not okay. I basically just signed your death wish” I said to him
“And I told you maybe it’s what’s best for me” he replied shrugging his shoulder
“Okay and maybe it isn’t! Maybe it isn’t” I said sternly to him as I began to lose my patience
“Matt we’ve had such an amazing connection this past month, a connection I’ve never had with anyone else before and you can’t just leave me” I said pleading with him
“Don’t you get it? I can’t have them coming after you. I care for you lot sweetheart and if I had to live with another love of mine being hurt I couldn’t live with myself.” He replied gripping the steering wheel harder
I huffedd out a breath of annoyance and sat back in the seat, letting a few tears fall from my face. This is pure insanity! I couldn’t live with myself if Matt got hurt or even killed. I felt confused, one hand I’d be safe but on the other hand Matt would potentially be….. dead.
I hadn’t even realized how long I was in thought until the car came to a halt and I heard Matt put the car in park.
Hopping out of the car I followed suit
“Take the car and run like hell outta here darlin” he said handing the keys to me
“Please come with” I begged as I chewed my bottom lip
“I can’t little lady” he responded shaking his head and wiping his nose
“Ditch your getaway car and come with me burn your car and let’s go, we can run like hell out of here together” I said gripping onto his arms
“I can’t, I have to go back” he says looking me in my eyes
“Can you at least attempt to leave town? Maybe tonight before they come looking for my car, leave before them” I said basically begging
“I can try, but I can’t make any promises darlin” he states swallowing thickly
“Please Matt…. For me” I say wiping my eyes
“The best I can do is try, this is for you. Whether I make it out alive or not just know I want you to be safe and I will always be with you” he says to me pulling me in for a hug
“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done” he says to me as he pulls away
“I’m going to miss you” I say to him
“I’m still here” he says smiling at me
I shook my head and hugged him once again
“I better head on back” he says pulling away
Turning on his heels he walks over to his car as I follow behind. Hopping in his car he rolls down his window as I lean on it.
“Now darlin you have to promise me that you’ll listen and you’ll get out of here. Don’t try and save me” he says smiling as he bats tears from his eyes
“I promise” I responded in a whisper
“And you have to promise to never forget about me” I told him as I smiled
“I could never! I swear I’ll try and contact you if I can pretty girl” he says back as he nods his head
“Thank you Matt for getting me out of here” I say one last time
Looking into his eyes I lean over and plant my lips on his. The kiss was needy and sad. It was a goodbye kiss…. A goodbye that meant forever. There was no see you later with Matt….
We hugged and shared one last final kiss. Parting ways I got in my car and we both drove off. I was numb the whole way home. I mean how does one process all of this? My life felt so unreal?
There were many hours of crying, sitting in silence and contemplations of turning back around. I just felt so confused, I didn’t want to leave Matt and I also didn’t want to die…. I didn’t have many options
Arriving home was the most bittersweet moment. I couldn’t really tell anyone what I really went through. What that town and what those people are truly like
I spent many days in and out of therapy really trying to understand what happened to me and how to process it. What really ate at me was the fear of being found, the fear of dying and especially the fear of never seeing Matt again.
One year later
If I knew that that day I hugged and kissed Matt goodbye would be the last time I’d ever see him, I’d hold on tighter. When I finally realized Matt wasn’t coming back it hurt bad… I mean I’d hid away blaming myself for all of this.
Wondering well maybe I didn’t push hard enough because if I did he would’ve caved and came with me. Not knowing if he was dead or alive really ate at my soul. Many days went by where I wanted to call his landline, but that would be a one way ticket to my grave.
It was hard moving. After experiencing something so intense with someone and needing them by your side to never seeing them again will always sting the most.
I was angry because I felt he didn’t try hard enough. Because if he did then he’d be here right now. And then that was filled with sadness and worry. I wasn’t sure if he was okay and I had to live with the fact that I would never know.
It’s so crazy how you’ll be living your life one way and then it flips upside down so randomly.
As I finished typing my chapter on my computer I let out a sigh. Writing a book about what I went through and losing Matt was the only way I could seem to cope.
It was actually Professor Wayne who convinced me to write this. He was actually helping me a lot through all this and he truly saw how it changed me. But everytime he saw the excitement in my eyes once I finished a chapter he knew it was genuinely helping me mentally.
Pressing save I closed my laptop and looked out my window. The rain is pattering against the glass. Such a bittersweet feeling. A year ago today I was about to sleep with my weird neighbor and friend and now I’m here in my empty apartment staring out the glass and reminiscing.
It’s still an open wound that I’m working on daily to stitch close. No one prepares you for traumatic events, especially ones that chemically alter your brain. I watched the rain trickle down the warm glass as I blink slowly. Racking my brain for answers…. I mean hell I’m just looking for one simple answer
I just want to know is Matt truly dead, or is he just
Hidden in the shadows….
The End
Yallll I hope you enjoyed the finale cause I hated it🤭 this is why I don’t write series because I’m so shit at ending things. But anywho I hope you liked it and I can’t wait to write some more for yall 🥹🖤
-J💅🏽
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senseless-writing · 2 years
Text
All Over Again
Pairing: Austin Butler x reader
Summary: It wasn’t Austin’s talent or looks that reminded Priscilla the most of her husband. It was his undeniable adoration for the woman he loved. 
Warnings: Painful reminiscing?
 A/N: This request smacked me in the face, and all of a sudden it was fully written! Love it when that happens. Also, I’m aware Priscilla never actually visited the set of “Elvis” (from what I gathered through interviews and such), so you’ll have to use a bit of imagination with this one. Hope you like it!
If you would like to be added to any of my tag lists (I’ve got a general tag list, along with specific ones for each fandom I’ve written for thus far), plz leave me a comment or ask and let me know which one!
Masterlist
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Priscilla was used to seeing her husband wherever she went. 
Not just in her daughter, or the grandchildren Lisa Marie gave her. There were so many other reminders. It seemed as if the whole world was as desperate as she was to fill the Elvis-sized whole in their hearts. She heard his voice over every loudspeaker, saw his eyes in every magazine, and felt his presence anywhere that reminded her of the things that brought him joy. 
It was lonely sometimes, being the only one who understood him in that way. Even lonelier once he left this Earth for good. But Priscilla was used to it by now, and even found solace in seeing parts of the heart she left behind still reflected in the world around her. 
So no, it didn’t surprise her to see Elvis in the eyes of another. 
However, she wasn’t so accustomed to seeing herself. 
At least, not in that way. Sure, people dressed up as her, which was always sort of awkwardly flattering. And once they started casting for the biopic surrounding her husband's life, Priscilla was shocked to meet someone like Olivia, who captured her essence to a tee. That was difficult to explain, and even more difficult to understand. But nothing compared to meeting Y/n. Or, rather, meeting Y/n with Austin. 
She first realized it at Graceland. It was the place where Priscilla felt the most safe, loved, and 100% connected to her husband. It was only right that this was where she would meet the people in charge of telling his story. She greeted them at the front of the house, and it was only then that she took note of someone new. 
“And you are?” she turned her gaze to the woman in between Baz and Austin. Surely this wasn’t Olivia? Priscilla had never been so forgetful with a face. 
The woman shuffled where she stood and fought the urge to duck her head. Priscilla then noticed Austin’s hand resting gently on her lower back.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Presley. I’m Y/n, Austin’s girlfriend, and a huge fan of your family and your husband's work. They said it would be okay if I tagged along for the tour.” 
Priscilla smiled warmly and took Y/n’s hands in her own. The poor girl was shaking like a leaf. The older woman knew what it was like to be dragged along by your star of a man to places you felt you didn’t belong, drowning underneath the pressure of trying to fit in. The sight was so symmetric, it almost froze her in her tracks. 
“Call me Priscilla, dear. And you are more than welcome here,” she lead them all inside. “That’s how he always wanted it to be.” 
While walking through the door to what used to be her home, Priscilla watched the couple with something new shining behind her eyes. 
No. Not something new. Something painfully familiar. Something she thought she’d lost forever. 
She watched as Austin leaned down, his lips brushing gently against Y/n’s ear. “I told you, baby. It all worked out just fine.” 
Y/n bashfully smiled and turned to tuck her face, warm with embarrassment, against his chest. In response, Austin chuckled to himself and wrapped her in his arms, rubbing up and down, before giving her one good squeeze and letting go. She seemed better, then. Calmer, even with uncertainty still simmering on her skin. 
It was such a senseless interaction. One of little import to everyone but the two of them. And yet, Priscilla felt as if time itself was rolling backwards.
Memories of her 22nd birthday flashed through her mind. Walking down the stairs hand in hand with her husband, tucking herself in his arms to hide from the overwhelming amount of gifts, candy, and love he showered her with. 
It wasn’t a private moment, not with the entire Memphis Mafia there to watch. And this moment between Austin and Y/n wasn’t any more personal. But that didn’t matter to either couple. Not then, and certainly not now. Love truly was strong enough to blind all. 
The trio continued their way through the home with Priscilla as their own personal tour guide. Truth be told, that wasn’t at all what she came here for. But after meeting Y/n, she was desperate to continue learning more about the girl from afar. Watching her and Austin walk through her home together, smiling and holding each other close, was horrifying and peaceful all at the same time. 
Once in the living room, Priscilla decided to fall back from the group, allowing them to observe everything on their own. Austin ran his fingers gently across the keys of the piano, a sound that sent a shock down the older woman’s spine. And Y/n, with special permission of course, had settled comfortably on the white, plush love-seat. Her bright eyes were wide while scanning the room around her, but fluttered shut with a blissful sigh after hearing the music Austin was producing. Priscilla watched in real time as the young girl's whole world centered, if only for a moment, around the man she loved. 
She remembered that feeling. She remembered fleeting moments of alone time with her husband, who despite all the fame, money, and screaming fans, found the most serenity sitting at this piano. 
“You hear that, ‘Cilla?” he’d call out after finishing a song, the final notes of a gospel tune still echoing on the walls. 
Her eyes would open to see his awe-filled expression. “Hm?”
“That’s God’s voice, honey.” 
And she would turn to look at him with stars in her eyes. “I just hear yours.” 
Something would always flicker behind his gaze, then. Understanding, with a twinge of pride. Or rather, pride bathed in humility. After years of watching Elvis search for truth in religious texts and songs, she knew this expression well. “Sometimes, baby, I think they’re one in the same.” 
“Y/n?” 
Austin’s voice broke Priscilla from her reverie. She could daydream all she wanted, but hearing Elvis’s voice, in her own home, coming from the body of another was something she would never get used to. 
He was no longer playing the piano. Instead, he’d moved to stand directly behind Y/n’s chair, and was squeezing her shoulders gently to grab her attention. His girlfriend tilted her head back and opened her eyes with a smile. 
“Hey,” she whispered up at him. 
Austin’s eyes were full of admiration. “Hey, baby. Where’d you go?” 
“I just love listening to you play. This house feels so…ethereal.” 
“Hm,” he hummed in agreement, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Let’s keep moving, yeah?” 
A quiet laugh fell from Y/n’s lips as she stood, accepting Austin’s hand and walking towards the next room. It was the kind of laugh where there wasn’t really anything funny, but joy was enough of a reason. Where happiness was a common occurrence, and blissful chuckles were the only way to truly express it. 
Oh, how it was to laugh because of love. Priscilla hadn’t realized how much she missed that. 
----------
She noticed it again during her visit to the set of the movie. 
Priscilla had been hesitant about visiting at first, what with the pandemic and all. And although she would never admit it to anyone, that wasn’t her only reason. She hadn’t yet decided how she felt about seeing her whole life be recreated for the big screen. 
But curiosity killed the cat. At the end of the day, the offer was too compelling to ignore. 
Olivia wasn’t there that day, which was both a blessing and a curse. Priscilla was certain that seeing a replica of herself from the ‘70s would be enough to scare her away for good. That time was…difficult. Still, that doesn’t mean a part of her wasn’t painfully interested. 
Despite it all, she was shocked to find herself enjoying her time on set. Everyone was so kind as Baz dragged her around, introducing her to them while explaining each intricate detail that went into telling her husband's story. 
God, seeing Austin in costume was something she truly wasn’t prepared for. It was like there was a ghost on set, smiling and charming the pants off everyone who dared to approach him. A sight straight out of the past, she was sure of it. Looking perfect in the ‘69 press conference outfit, Priscilla held back from walking up to him for fear of not knowing what to say. 
She just needed more time. 
It was a complete coincidence that Y/n was there as well. And again, Priscilla was overcome with the indescribable need to watch her. 
The girl sat in her boyfriend's chair, which said “Elvis” in big white letters on the back. Her legs were crossed, though she quickly uncrossed them, only to repeat the motion yet again. Clearly, she was nervous to be sitting there all alone. But before Priscilla could walk over and provide an easy distraction, Austin was already one step ahead. 
“Everything okay, darlin’?” he asked her in that voice that Priscilla knew so well. He placed either hand on the armrest of his chair, leaning forward until nothing else existed but the woman right in front of him. 
Y/n leaned back with an easy expression, nothing like how she looked only moments before. She was teasing, forcing him to come closer while her hands fiddled with the colored scarf around his neck. Her face was proof that she knew exactly what she was doing, and Austin ate it up. He was the moth to her flame. 
“All good here,” she reassured him. Her eyes ran up and down his towering form before meeting his gaze again with a knowing grin. “I think this one is definitely my favorite.” 
“Oh?” he mused. “This old thing?” 
“Never mind, I take it back.” 
Austin’s whole face shined when he smiled at her. “Nope! Too late, you already admitted to liking the look. No take backs!”
“It’s ‘cuz you look the most like yourself!” she protested with a groan. “I’ve seen you in fancy suits a hundred times. Sequined jumpsuits with capes, on the other hand…” 
“So you’re saying you wouldn’t mind if I grew out some sideburns?” 
Y/n’s expression fell to a deadpan. “Don’t you dare.” 
Austin’s laugh echoed across the room. His happiness was absolutely contagious, and anyone could see it. 
That was another thing the actor had in common with Priscilla’s husband. 
She watched him lean forward, whispering something in Y/n’s ear that Priscilla couldn’t hear. Her whole face relaxed into a gentle smile, her hands moving to the sides of his face to hold him close. When he was done, Austin pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, before leaving her to herself again. 
Priscilla was so caught in the moment, she didn't notice him making his way towards her until it was too late. 
“Priscilla,” he greeted her with a smile she’d seen a million times, but never on Austin’s face. “I’m so glad you were able to make it! How do you like everything so far?” 
She accepted the side hug he offered her. “I’m glad to be here. Though I must say, movie sets have changed so much over the past decades! I’m afraid I might get lost.” 
“Trust me, I feel the same way sometimes. You should see the ‘International’ set, it’s unbelievable.” 
Priscilla thought this man couldn’t possibly know how true that statement was. “Oh, that stage was…truly something special.” 
The conversation settled quietly after that, but it was a comfortable sort of silence. Priscilla wondered if the déjà vu would ever fade. 
“So you and Y/n,” she spoke after a moment. Austin’s gaze snapped to hers. “How long have you two been together?” 
His smile was so wide after just the mention of her name. “A little over a year.” 
“So it’s serious, then?” she mused with a knowing look. 
“Oh, definitely,” he answered quickly. “I…I really love her.” 
Austin shuffled awkwardly after the confession, and his eyes suddenly clouded with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, that was weird. You shouldn’t have to listen to me babble like a love sick puppy,” he chuckled. 
“No!” she reached out to rub his arm comfortingly. This may not be the man Priscilla loved, but it was someone who had dedicated the last three years of his life to honoring him. That automatically made him someone important to her. “Honestly, it’s a beautiful thing to love someone like that.” 
Priscilla hadn’t realized the confession was resting on the tip of her tongue until tears were welling in her eyes. 
“Priscilla?” Austin was immediately concerned. 
She shooed him away in an instant, clearing her throat before speaking. “I’m alright, dear. It’s just…” 
Priscilla swore it was her husband's eyes she was looking into at that moment. 
“...it’s just so nice to see that kind of love again.” 
Austin felt his whole chest cave in. With the breath suddenly knocked from his lungs, he wasn’t sure how to process what Priscilla had just admitted. Bringing Y/n here wasn’t meant to distress her in any way, and he felt horrible for whatever unwanted memories doing so might have brought up. 
And yet, he could see sentiment in her eyes. Austin knew she meant her confession in a good way. They were here to tell the story of her husband's life, and her own as an extension, so even Austin could admit he was proud to be able to reflect a piece of that in her eyes. But he hadn’t stopped to think about how it would make her feel. He was suddenly at a loss for words.
Priscilla noticed his spiral at once, and moved to hold his hands in her own. “Cherish it, Austin,” she spoke with the most serious tone he’d ever heard. “I mean that. Most people never find it for themselves.” 
Austin’s eyes were full of understanding. “I will.” 
But Priscilla wasn’t done. “Elvis and I,” she broke off with a sigh. “We made so many mistakes. So many.” 
Their relationship wasn’t perfect. Elvis wasn’t perfect, and Priscilla would no longer allow herself to believe in that delusion. 
Their life wasn’t perfect. But it had been their own. And in times like this one, she missed it more than anything. 
Priscilla squeezed Austin’s hands to emphasize her point. “I don't think things could have been any different for us,” she said without an ounce of regret in her voice. “But I hope they can be different for you.” 
Her smile reached her ears as she continued. “After this movie, everything is going to change for you. I just know it. But you need to prioritize this. What you have, right here, with that beautiful girl. Don’t ever let that change.” 
It was Austin, now, who had tears in his eyes. His mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the words to express the gratitude he felt towards her. But when Baz made the announcement that cameras were ready for shooting, he suddenly found himself out of time. 
“Go,” she urged him forward. “They’re ready for you, hun.” 
He shook his head, squeezed her hands, and smiled with his whole face. “Thank you, Priscilla. Just…thank you. For everything.”
Priscilla noticed his gaze sway to Y/n after walking away, even with his direction set towards all the cameras. She watched their eyes meet, and noticed the way they relaxed underneath each other's gaze. Two hearts, one soul, and a lifetime of love between them. 
Austin and Y/n were proof, if anything, that history has a way of repeating itself. At least, it was all the proof Priscilla needed. She could only hope her cautionary words were enough to break the cycle she and Elvis created all those years ago. 
And she hoped, more than anything, that this couple got the ending they deserved.
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flowersforjude · 1 year
Text
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A day at the market with you and the kid has Din going over all the reasons he’s falling in love with you.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,253
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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | None, just some soft Din. There’s some pining and whatnot.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I’ve jumped on the Pedro Pascal train with the premiere of The Last Of Us and I binged both seasons of The Mandalorian in two days, so expect much more Din Djarin, Joel Miller, and Pedro Pascal content. For those of you who follow me for my Elvis stuff, don’t worry. E is still top on my list and he won’t be going anywhere.
masterlist | read on ao3
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He has to keep stopping himself from reaching for your hand. His glove-clad fingers itch to wrap themselves around yours. He wants to feel the warmth from your skin seeping into his through his gloves. He wants to pull your body closer to his so that your shoulders touch as you walk around the market.
You’re talking about something funny the kid did the night before, and he finds himself struggling to pay attention. Not because you're boring him but because the very sound of your voice makes him lose concentration. Your soft lilt is so captivating and hypnotic. It’s like the whole world stills, and the only thing that matters is the ethereal sound of you speaking.
“And then he–oh Din, look at this!” You gasp as you halt in front of a booth selling textiles.
A blue blanket embroidered with green designs along the edges hung in your arms. It looked to be made of some kind of thick material. Sure to keep you warm in the coldness of space.
“It’s perfect for him, don’t you think?” You smile brightly as you lift it up to inspect it properly. Din has to force himself to keep breathing.
Your gaze goes down to the child held in Din’s arms. The creature in question locks eyes on the blanket and immediately reaches for it. He coos up at you as if asking for permission to touch it. You giggle softly and nod to let him know it was alright.
“I think he likes it,” you laugh. “We should get it. He needs a new one anyway.”
He knows this isn’t true. He knows back on the Crest there is a pile of blankets stacked in one of the cubbies under his bunk. He knows that they got there because of situations like this. “He has many blankets already, cyar’ika.”
Din knows you know this as well, but you’re so enamored by the kid that you just can’t help yourself. Din is too, though; that’s why there’s a growing collection of children's things on the Crest. At some point, you guys are going to have to stop spending so many credits on things like this. But the happiness he can see from you and the kid overrides all else.
You huff playfully and fix him with a look he knows will ruin him. “Yeah, but do you know what that means?” You ask. “It means we’re the best parents in the galaxy.”
He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips under his helmet. His parents.
You two were not a couple, but you’d been with him almost as long as the child. You had first met on Tatooine. He was there on business and had gone to the cantina in hopes of buying some information he was in need of. Instead, he found you pressed against the back wall by some lifeform you clearly didn’t want the attention of. He came to your aid despite hardly ever doing so before. He blamed the kid for making him go soft. You had thanked him profusely, and he was just going to leave it at that, needing to get back on track. But the surprised gasp leaving your lips at the sight of the child poking his head from the bag made it clear that wasn’t happening.
One thing led to another, and you were watching over him while Din went about his business on the desert planet. When the time came to leave, he shocked you and even himself by asking you to join him. His excuse being he was in need of a full-time babysitter for the kid. In the back of his mind, Din knew this was going to be the start of something troublesome.
That’s how he found himself where he stood now. Sighing as he took the heavy blanket from you. “I’ll buy it. Go look around a bit more; we’re leaving soon.”
You beam up at him and skip off to a nearby booth, the items laid out have your full attention. He’s extremely thankful his helmet hid the love-struck look that possessed his face at the moment.
He glimpsed a pair of brown leather gloves lying on the booth. They looked to be your size. His mind traveled back to a few days ago, when you’d mentioned you could use a new pair. Something about how there was a hole in one of the fingers.
Should he?
He glances down at his son to find him already looking up at him. The baby can read the situation far too well. His gaze on Din is practically dripping with expectations. His little green head turns from his father to the woman he sees as his mother and back again. “Stop it,” Din mutters. He paid the vendor for both items and looked around for where you had bounded off to.
That was something Din had come to love about you. Your endless energy. It was a strong contrast to the tiredness he often felt, but in the time you’d been with him, he felt your spirit rubbing off on him. He also noticed that he smiled more. Before, he didn’t have anything to warrant smiling frequently, but with you by his side, he found he did. You had brightened the light in his life that had already reappeared with the kid.
He found you at a booth that seemed to sell children's toys. You began to enthusiastically wave him over once you found him in the crowd. He shook his head and chuckled as he walked in your direction.
“Find anything else?”
You take a quick glance over the items before turning to him. “No, let’s go home before I spend all my credits on kids toys,” you laugh.
Home. Your home.
He tries and fails to keep the fuzzy warmth from spreading through him. As a Mandalorian, the most important thing to him was family. You and the kid were his family, and his main mission in life now was to protect you both. He’d been so sure that you only saw him as a place to lay your head. Employment, and maybe after all this time, a friend. But here lately, with his feelings growing and you doing things like calling the Crest home, hope started to sprout in him that possibly you felt more.
“What do you have there, little one?”
The sudden question had Din jerking his head downward to the child. Sure enough, your gloves were being waved around in his tiny green hands. You take the gloves from him and look closely at them. Your brows come together as you tilt your head to the side.
“These aren't mine,” you state. “They're way too new looking, and they’re too small for you..”
He remained silent while you spoke, and only once you trailed off did he clear his throat.”Very keen observations, cyar’ika.”
Your face became even more confused at his bad joke.
“Did you get me new gloves, Din?”
“Yeah.” He has to clear his throat once again. “I remember you mentioned you needed new ones.”
He tries to pretend he doesn’t notice his pulse quicken when you look at him like he hung the stars. It’s when you look at him with that that he has to stop the urge to rip his helmet off and kiss you breathless.
“You are the kindest man in the galaxy.” You say softly.
He’s not, but he hopes he’ll be enough for you one day.
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I hope you guys enjoy this! I thought something short and sweet would be a good way for me to begin writing for Pedro and his characters. More to come soon!
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eee-lordy · 3 months
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Hiiii! Can you write about jacob elordi x fem reader who is in charge of the makeup and outfits on saltburn or elvis?
Maybe there is a video going viral where he is looking at her (WITH THOSE PUPPY DOG EYES HAHSHAJDVDSJ IM GONNA EAT HIM) while she is doing his make up and she is clueless, yk those videos where the music is lana del rey and the caption is like "me when im literaly obsessed with her" or "when hes completely in love with u>>>>>"
And when that goes viral, the cast teases him and they go on a date?
Idk i think its cute :3
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───※ ·❆· ※───
You were never one to get star struck. In the year and a half you'd been professionally applying makeup to the mugs of many stars, you'd been unfazed by celebrities captivating auras. You hardly blushed when Chris Pine tried asking you out as he sat in your makeup chair. You'd laughed in understandable assurance as Billie Eilish apologized for almost knocking your powder kit from your grasp; when her brother burst in the room to surprise her. You saw your clients as just that, people who trusted you to properly apply blush and fake scars.
But all the composure you'd been proud to claim went out the window when you'd been assigned to work with the cast of Sofia Coppola new film. You hadn't expected to lose your cool. In fact, you'd been rolling your eyes as the hair stylist that shared your caravan had droned on and on about this new Elordi fellow and how dreamy he was. Some of the other workers in the hair and makeup department parroted her yearning for the guy. But you were certain you'd remain calm and cool in this supposed deities presence.
And then he sat down in your chair. And he looked up to you with an intriguing set of droopy dark eyes. And you knew Jacob Elordi was about to be a real problem for you.
It wasn't his fame. You weren't swept up by his essence because of the collective crowd on the internet drooling over the guy. It wasn't even his magnetism. Because he did have a lot of that, you wavered it was necessary to survive fame. But it was more the way he would look up at you from that make up chair. With those dumb stupid big beautiful eyes.  And his smile that followed. And then the infuriating way he'd start conversations with you, those first few days on set.
"What'd you have for breakfast this morning?" Jacob would wonder, watching as you readied a sponge. You would answer and ask for his in return. He would mention stopping by a cafe earlier and go on to ask you where you grew up and if you liked it there and what the best book you've ever read was called. 
"You've got to stop chatting away, makes it hard to do your touch up's." You'd smile, reaching out to adjust Jacobs perfect fucking face so you could work on his brows. 
"Sorry." He breathed out, seemingly genuinely guilty. He went on explaining himself still, slowly as you continued to do your job. "Don't like awkward silence. Or bullshit small talk. Getting to know you seemed like the safest route. Since you'll be covering the dark circles under my eye's this whole shoot."
You laughed in understanding before announcing that you got it, and waved over the hairdresser on site today. 
"Wait, before you go, that book you mentioned..." Jacob pointed your way as you turned for closing up your kit of brushes. Then you watched as the guy wrestled his cellphone from his jacket pocket. "Here," Jacob said, extending the device your way. "Write the title in my notes app. I will forget, but I don't want too. It sounded properly readable."
"Oh." You turned your lips down in a twisted grin of surprise. As you took the device from Jacob's grasp, you felt a surge of gratification that the guy trusted you enough with his phone let alone wanted to read a book you mention not having read since uni. 
Not missing the way the hairdresser rolled her eyes, you grinned and found Jacobs notes app with ease, straining not to glance beyond your means. With the press of a few buttons you wrote down the title, and fought off the impulsive urge to include your very own phone number as well. That would be embarrassing, knowing full well this man would never call or text or probably even dare to glance your way beyond the makeup chair. 
///
The next few weeks went by the same. Jacob would yammer away until you almost had to hold his mouth shut to finish his makeup. And you would fill the silence by telling stories of your own, because he'd mentioned he wasn't fond of silence and you knew your job went beyond applying lip liner, it was also to keep celebrities happy as royalty.
And all the while you blinked away thoughts of how funny he was. How beautiful Jacob was. You wouldn't let yourself realize he was exactly your type. You wouldn't let yourself dream that you might be his. You simply relished the times you made him laugh. Once you made him laugh so hard he cried, tear tracks ruining the powder you'd only just applied. 
The hairdresser who was the leader of fawning over Jacob as soon as he left the room had taken to frowning in your direction most days. You reckoned it was because she'd never been able to make him laugh that hard, or at all, ever. And the stories she told him when he asked her to seemed to lose his interest halfway through every time. Try as Jacob might, you saw his eyes glaze over as the hairstylist droned on about her retirement plan or the grocery list she'd put together that day.
After acknowledging her sorry excuse for conversation Jacob would stop you from packing up and heading to lunch so he could ask you for more books to read, more films to watch, more stories from you. Then his assistant would interrupt, or he'd be called to set and you'd be left to head to the craft table with dangerous feelings of lust and intrigue to push away. You would not let this boy break you of your career long streak of professionalism, damn it.
///
One night, in the middle of a week break from set, you spent an evening scrolling mindlessly. When a tiktok with Jacob's name in the tags popped up, you scrolled away at the speed of light. You didn't let yourself linger too long on posts with him there, not wanting to know anything good bad or otherwise so long as you were assigned to work with him on this project. But it wasn't long before another tiktok popped up featuring the guy in a very familiar setting. He was too famous at this point. You watched as you saw leaked footage from behind the scenes of Priscilla, but weren't too shocked. The stars of the film were occasionally being interviewed by publicists between takes to document their experience, beginning to promote the film.
And maybe you let yourself keep watching out of a sense of entitlement, you'd been working on this set. You could watch a video of Jacob from work, right? You couldn't tear your eyes from him no matter how hard you tried now anyway. You watched as the person holding the camera zoomed in on the guy while he adjusted his suit jacket. You watched as he seemed to talk to the costars at his side. You watched as he looked up and smiled. And you couldn't help but melt a little at the sight, he seemed so happy, so at ease. And then you watched as Jacob's grin widened as he waved someone closer. And much to your horror, you saw yourself step into frame. 
You remembered that day, where you waited on the side lines to fix Cailee's eyeliner. While the director was storming up a new camera angle, Jacob waved you over to mention the last chapter of your favorite book he'd almost finished reading. He was laughing over a bit that you'd warned him about the week before. And you were laughing over how excited he was about it, finally having someone to gush over your favorite plot with.
Now, huddled beneath the blankets of your bed, you slammed your phone down at your side, bewildered to know someone had caught your interaction on camera. Raddled to have just seen Jacob lighting up at the sight of you. Angry at yourself for hopping you'd read his body language in a way that suggested he really liked you that much.
When you picked your phone back up, you watched the candid moment over and over, trying to debunk Jacob's smile. Trying to convince yourself he was only being friendly, only cared because he had to find someone to mingle with during down beats. 
And then you read the comments. 
"If Jacob smiled at me like that, I would die."
"Imagine making him laugh like that she's so lucky."
"Who is she??" One comment read. "Her last name will be Elordi if he hasn't married her already, calling it." Someone replied.
You shouldn't have read the comments.
///
When you were due back on set you swallowed away the excitement bubbling up in you at the prospect of seeing Jacob again. This was so unlike you, to be awaiting the arrival of your client with an embarrassing giddiness. As you reminded yourself that this was your job and Jacob was simply a guest in your makeup chair- the man himself eased into the caravan, ready to get ready for the day.
"Hey, you! I had a bunch of points earned up to get two free coffees so I brought you one. I remember you said you like almond milk so I asked for that." Jacob was all smiles as he extended a latte to you. Awe fuck. 
"Thank you, Jacob." You struggled not to sigh with angst as you accepted his very generous surprise. Luckily, he seemed none the wiser that you'd answered through gritted teeth. He just kept smiling as he headed to your chair.
"Oh, me first today lovie. Need to start your dye straight off, you're little makeup girlfriend will have to wait." The hairdresser announced, daring to grab Jacob by his sleeve, yanking him toward her end of the trailer. The other workers around rolled their eyes, sick of her endless commentary. You bit your tongue as you leaned against the counter, shaking your head when a coworker scoffed in the hairdresser's direction. Luckily, Cailee waltz in, ready for you before anyone else. You thanked God for the distraction, readying your brow pencil and chatted to the girl about her break from set. 
All the while, your least favorite coworkers voice demanded to be the loudest in the room. She made everyone listen to some boring ass story and practically whinnied when Jacob got up to trade Cailee places. 
"No offence, you're fine and all, just don't have hair as silky smooth as Jacob's." The hairdresser told Cailee but made sure her comment was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Oh wait, silly me," 
As Jacob settled in the makeup chair and began to ask if the drink he'd brought you was good, the hairdresser of your nightmares shoved her way between you and the person you were meant to be working on. 
"I left of a bobby pin, how'd I forget," She droned in an annoying pitch, nearly shoving you over in her attempt to get closer to Jacob. 
"Can you please get out of my space?" You called, annoyed that she was pushing you away from your station without a single polite excuse.
"Can you please stop being such a jealous bitch?" The hairdresser whipped to face you with a manic smile.
"Oh my God?" You almost laughed in shock at her comment when another coworker dared to reach out and pulled her away, and out of the trailer. Another hairdresser apologized to the room for the previous girl's behavior and stepped up to lead charge of Cailee's wig.
With no time to shake the rage that had been born in you, you pushed it down, biting your lip hard as you went about finding the right sponge for Jacob's foundation. 
"Are you okay?" He asked, seemingly worried. And that pissed you off too. Why'd he have to act like he cared so much? Why'd he have to be so damn wonderful?
"I'm fine. Thank you again for the coffee, it...is kind of bitter but it was a really sweet gesture, I swear. Close your eye's please." You responded as calm and cool as possible.
"Bitter... sweet..." Jacob winked, just for you to see. It was the best thing you'd ever witness. And the worst all the same. You were sure you blushed. You tilted his chin and struggling to suppress how much you'd miss when you didn't get to be this close to him. He stayed quiet as you finished his face, and so did you. When his makeup was done, almost everyone else had left the trailer. The last remaining beautician was walking out as you'd closed the case to your kit. 
"I thought you didn't like awkward silence." You dared to mention, as Jacob stood to leave. It wasn't like you'd thought to ask. It was just a thought that ended up blurted out. And then you were bold enough still to look up and right at the guy with those perfectly shaped eyes to find he'd already been staring right at you. 
"S'not so awkward with you."
You really wish he hadn't said that. You really wished you'd never prompted him too. You really wished he wasn't still standing there looking across the features of your face like he was waiting on you to respond. There was a knock on the door just in time, and a voice calling for Jacob to hurry to set. 
"I'll see you after lunch, right?" Jacob wondered as he moved toward the door. You muttered something like "Yeah sure," as you turned to start collecting your things. As far as Jacob knew you were headed to the craft table. But as your feet started marching out of the trailer, you found yourself headed toward the manager of the crew you'd been hired in with. You explained to her that you really thought it was best you turned in your resignation. 
You'd never dared yourself to tread the line during work. Never been so enamored with someone you were meant to be professional with. It wasn't in your best interest to see how far this went. And it wasn't in Jacobs best interest that you kept lingering around distracting him with stories and novel suggestions.
So, on a decided whim, you packed your things, swallowed frustrated tears, and headed home for good.
///
You let yourself be mad once your front door was shut and locked. You threw away the stupid coffee Jacob bought you. You turned the telly off and tossed the remote toward the hardwood when Euphoria came on. You muttered and cursed and slammed cabinets as you made a carb heavy comfort meal and called your best friend. 
The day went on and turned to night as you tried to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You began getting ready for bed, talking yourself into sleeping off all the weird feelings and events that had transpired today. Tomorrow, you'd find a new job and make sure to decline any with that one awful hairdressers name on the list of beauticians. 
As you sat on the edge of your bed and set a reminder for yourself to job hunt tomorrow afternoon, a notification interrupted your typing. 
Instagram was alerting you that one certain Jacob Elordi was sending you a fucking message. He'd followed you a couple weeks ago, when you handed him your phone to show him a picture of your beloved childhood pet. He scrolled away from it and found your handle to promptly pull up on his very own Instagram, following you with a smile.
Your eyes widened and your thumb worked faster than your brain, clicking the popup before you could talk yourself out of it. Oh, shit now he was going to know you opened his fucking stupid ass message. You really wished you hadn't met this boy. He wasn't even here and he was torturing your every thought. 
"You were NOT there after lunch as promised. Call me? xx"
Before your eyes displayed a row of numbers that if pressed would call Jacob Elordi's cell phone. You tried really hard to talk yourself out of it. But being away from him for the last ten hours had really done a number on your heart. It missed him more than your brain was afraid to admit. Your thumb clicked the numbers. Your phone started to ring. 
After one buzz he answered. 
"I got off set to hear you'd quit and left me to bear that horrid hairdresser without you? Was the coffee really that bad?" Jacob's voice crackled through the line, soft and saccharine. You chuckled morosely at his coffee joke before responding.
"No pleasant greeting. What if it wasn't me calling? What if it was some crazy fan girl?" You dared to venture. 
"Are you saying you're not a fan of mine?"
You wanted to assure him that you were probably his biggest, but sighed in place of a response, struggling to choose your words. 
"What happened? That hairdresser should be fired. You shouldn't've left." Jacob spoke, as you watched the traffic out your window and relished the sound of his voice in your ear. 
"It..." You couldn't help it. You couldn't hide it any longer. "It wasn't really her. I quit because of you, Jacob."
"Me? I- I'm sorry I thought we-" He sounded too worried, and you realized you'd spoken a little too cryptically.
"Not because you did anything wrong." You hurried to explain, interrupting his unnecessary apology. "It's me, not you." 
"Is this a break up? I never even got to ask you on a proper date." He laughed a humorless laugh.
"That's the thing." You said. "I like you way more than I should've ever let myself. It's too unprofessional for me to work with you and have these feelings. I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be telling you this. Everyone treats you like a piece of meat, I hate that I-"
"So... what I'm hearing..." Jacob's voice rose a bit as he interrupted you, catching your attention off guard. "Is that I can actually ask you on a proper date? And this doesn't have to be a break up at all."
"Oh! I- wait are you joking?" You blurted, shocked by the tone of his voice and the fact that it seemed like Jacob Elordi was asking you out. 
"I like you too, dummy. I've been doing my damnedest to make that clear. You know I don't just follow every wardrobe artist on Instagram and bring camera men cafe treats. I used my free coffee on you! I'm so sorry it was no good though." 
"It wasn't the worst coffee ever." You smiled, feeling a calm and hopeful buzz wash over you. 
"Well, let me take you on a proper date, for a proper cup of coffee, and talk you back on set." 
"I can date you, or be your makeup artist, but I will not allow myself to do both. I have a very strict moral compass as a working lady." 
"I'll choose the first option then by a long shot." You could hear Jacob's smile in the tone of his voice. You let him ramble a little longer about the day he'd had and how bad he felt that you'd been moved to quit. He asked you to meet him at the cafe across from the set during lunch tomorrow, and you promised you would in fact show up without a doubt this time. 
Fuck finding a new job tomorrow. You were going on an absolute dream date with Jacob. But you were most definitely ordering your own coffee.
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