#steve binder fanfic
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One for the Money, Two for the Show
Steve Binder x Elvis Presley x Reader Smut
>> so I've had this idea for a while now and I'm just now finishing it! I've mentioned writing this a few times on my blog and everyone seemed really excited about it, so I hope everyone enjoys this!! I stopped proofreading towards the end because my brain just stopped wanting to work, so if there are mistakes, please let me know (:
pairing: Steve Binder x Elvis Presley x reader
warnings: smut, threesome, overstimulation, nipple play (brief), oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, double penetration, MINORS DNI, mentions of assassination, death.
word count: 4577
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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
If you could choose one person in the world to be your favorite, it would be your boyfriend, Steve. Despite his sarcasm and quick wit, he’s kind, understanding, and patient. Steve keeps to himself for the most part- he doesn’t have much to say if the conversation isn’t interesting to him or beneficial in some way. Until he meets Elvis, that is. The two of them can talk about anything, whether it’s business or not. They just flow naturally when conversing, much like you and Steve. It makes you happy to see your boyfriend opening up to someone else, especially someone as outgoing as Elvis. Usually, extroverts made Steve weary, but there’s just something about Elvis. And you’ve picked up on it too.
Elvis had called Steve personally to discuss a comeback special on NBC. He wanted Steve and his co-producer, Bones Howe, to help him put it together how he wanted it. Elvis’ promotional manager, Colonel Tom Parker, prefers a Christmas special as Elvis’ big comeback. But the singer has other plans. And he knows that Steve and Tom are the people to help him carry out those plans. The three of them, along with Jerry Schilling and the rest of the Memphis Mafia, had met to discuss the comeback special further. You didn’t tag along like you usually do when Steve has a business meeting, but he told you about it. You’re going to make sure to be at the filming of the special no matter what. You want to meet the one and only Elvis Presley.
It’s the day of filming the beginning sequence of the special, and you’re standing next to Steve in the production booth, which has an excellent view of the entire studio area. You both watch as Elvis makes his way to the small stage in the middle of the said studio, clad in a leather jumpsuit. He looks undeniably good in it- the leather hugs everything on his body. Everything.
“I suggested the leather outfit when we discussed the special,” Steve says to you as he fiddles with his cigarette, “We needed something raw and dirty.”
“It’s definitely raw and dirty, alright,” you say breathlessly, and Steve smirks from his seat, “But I wonder if he’s as dirty as people make him seem.”
Steve glances up at you and takes a long drag of his cigarette, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
You shrug innocently, “Wouldn’t everyone?”
Steve just hums in response with a somewhat smug look on his face before focusing back on filming the performance.
“Ladies and gentlemen, here’s Elvis Presley!” Bones announces from the small stage, allowing Elvis to replace his position.
Elvis takes a moment to prepare himself before grabbing his guitar. He shakes himself out and takes some deep breaths. When he’s finally ready, a shaky hand reaches up to the microphone as he begins singing Jailhouse Rock. This is his first time performing in front of an audience in years, and in just the first few minutes, everyone in the room is hooked. The way Elvis is moving and singing like he never stopped is captivating. He exudes confidence, and the audience is eating it up. Everyone in the production booth is silent, watching as Elvis’ comeback is in full swing.
“Well, that was energetic,” one of the men from the Singer Sewing Company comments, and his boss side eyes him with a displeased look. You try not to snicker from beside Steve.
Elvis plunges into the next song, just as passionate as before. You roll your eyes as the boss of the sewing company makes a few comments about how Elvis has yet to sing any Christmas songs. He also points out that he wasn’t wearing their Christmas sweater. You bite your tongue to hold back words you know Steve would disapprove of in the workplace. The Colonel abruptly leaves the booth with his assistant following close behind, assumingly going to stop the performance. You turn to go after him, but Steve grabs your wrist and gives a warning glare. You frown, sighing in defeat as you shake off Steve’s grip. Thankfully, after a few minutes, nothing happens and the performance continues.
After a few more songs, Elvis is now discussing how happy he is to be back on stage and playing what he wants to play. A smile graces your lips at his dedication and genuine love for what he does. Steve looks up at you with a proud look, and you return it, knowing he is happy to be doing this. Pride in one’s work is something Elvis has in common with Steve, as well as their love for what they do, and you think that’s one reason why they click. They understand each other.
The performance wraps up, and the stage is cleared as well as the audience. A few more sets are filmed, such as the Karate and Whorehouse sequences. Now the Gospel number was to be filmed next. Elvis is dressed in a nice red outfit and ready on the platforms awaiting further instruction.
“Bindle-” The Colonel says, out of breath after running back up the stairs to the production booth. You figure he had seen enough at this point.
One thing that pissed you off about the Colonel, other than the obvious manipulation tactics and control he had over Elvis, was the fact he didn’t have enough respect for your boyfriend to call him by the correct name. He referred to Steve as “Bindle” instead of his actual last name. Your thoughts are interrupted by Steve’s commanding voice booming through the booth.
“Cue the gospel number now. Go,” Steve demands through his microphone.
Elvis begins singing and making his way down the platform as the dancers start their movements, much to the Colonel’s dismay.
“No,” he says in disbelief, eyeing the performance in a near panic. “N-none of this will be in the special,” he says to the men from the sewing company.
“Can you make a note that, that should be in the special?” Steve asks Bones, leaning over the soundboard.
The Colonel and the men of the Singer Sewing Machine Company look displeased from their seats, and a part of you is proud of Steve and his headiness. Especially if it means men in power are angry.
“Okay, now let’s segue straight into the whorehouse dancers. Go!” Steve instructs.
“Whorehouse? No,” The Colonel mumbles in protest.
The new footage of the Gospel number merges into the Whorehouse number that had been shot previously. The montage plays on the screens in the production booth, and the entourage of the sewing company begins to show their unhappiness about the situation.
“Now bring in the Kung Fu spectacular,” Steve says, letting the set play on the TV screens in the booth.
“What? Kung Fu?” The Colonel is in utter disbelief.
The businessmen begin to argue with the Colonel, saying he’ll be hearing from their lawyers about the lack of Christmas in the special. They promptly leave, and you smile smugly down at your boyfriend, who mirrors your expression as he flicks the ashes of his cigarette. The pride doesn't last long. Suddenly, the Gospel dancers stop upon someone shouting and running toward them. You can’t determine what they’re yelling until they’re finally in earshot.
“Bobby Kennedy’s been shot!”
At that moment, time seems to freeze. Everyone in the booth frantically looks around at each other before hurrying out of their seats, getting ready to run to Elvis’ dressing room, where the television is. Steve stands up quickly and grabs your hand as the two of you join the others in their pursuit. A few of the dancers, some of the crew, Elvis, Jerry, and you and Steve all pile into the room and huddle around the television. You can hear people screaming and crying in the crowd as they surround Bobby Kennedy, who is lying unconscious on the ground. Tears burn behind your eyes as you grasp Steve’s hand tightly, deeply saddened by what you’re witnessing on the screen. You force yourself to rip your gaze away from the TV and gauge the reactions around you. Elvis is sitting next to the person standing directly beside you, a little hidden from sight. But you can see his eyes are red and watery when the person moves forward slightly. Your heart pangs, almost wanting to reach out and comfort him, but you decide against it.
“Steve,” the floor manager mutters, “We’ve gotta get back to work.”
Steve softly lets go of your hand and takes a few steps ahead, muting the TV before turning to face everyone.
“Listen,” he says quietly, “I uh, just wanna say that this nation is hurting. It’s lost, you know. It needs a voice right now to help it heal. We have to say something,” Steve sniffs, looking up at Elvis with tear-filled eyes, “You have to make a statement, E.P.”
“Mr. Presley doesn’t make statements,” the Colonel interrupts from the back of the room where he’s suddenly appeared, “He sings Here Comes Santa Claus, wishes everyone Merry Christmas, good night.”
The Colonel switches off the television, and everyone silently disperses from the dressing room, including you and Steve. Both of you begrudgingly walk out and head to the stairwell where you can converse privately.
“Why is this happening? Why does this keep happening, Steve?” you put your face in your hands when the door to the stairwell shuts behind you.
This was the second major assassination to happen this year alone. And the two people killed were important to you and Steve, as well as many people in the nation and worldwide. Seeing it happen in real-time makes it worse somehow.
“I don’t know, darling. This world is full of evil people,” Steve frowns, pulling you into his chest as he cards his fingers through your hair.
“Elvis seemed really upset about it. Do you think he’ll say something?” you lift your head and peer into Steve’s eyes, searching for any answers you can get to all of this. But there’s none.
“From what I know about him so far, he definitely won’t stay quiet for long.”
“I wanted to comfort him, Steve,” you say, eyeing the wall beside you, “No one was beside him. He was just sitting there alone.”
“It’s not too late to comfort him. I’m sure the rest of filming today will be easy if there’s any at all. I think he’d appreciate someone showing they care,” Steve says, grabbing hold of your shoulders and looking you in the eyes.
“How do I do it without seeming odd? What should I say or do?” you cast your eyes down.
Steve lifts your head with his hand, “You have a gift of helping people when they need it. Whether it’s words or actions, do anything he asks or anything he needs. It won’t come off as odd, I promise. We need to lift his spirits, Y/N.”
“Anything?” you furrow your brows, asking Steve a silent question.
You know Elvis is known to flirt with just about everyone, and if he’s upset, there’s no telling what may come out of his mouth. What if he needs something you can’t give? Would Steve be okay with you giving that?
“Anything.” Steve raises his eyebrows in seriousness, his eyes twinkling knowingly.
“As long as it’s okay with you,” you bite your lip.
“As much as the situation is bleak, find out how raw and dirty he really is if you have to.”
Steve lets go of you, and the two of you exit the stairwell. You walk back in the direction of Elvis’ dressing room while Steve heads back to the production room. As you walk down the corridor, you pass a pensive-looking Colonel Tom Parker. You hope he didn’t worsen Elvis’ already dampened mood. You look behind your shoulder once you pass him to ensure he doesn’t see you enter the dressing room—all clear.
“Elvis?” you call out, gently knocking on his dressing room door.
“Come in,” he says frustratedly.
You walk into the dressing room, feeling a little out of place since you don’t know Elvis all too well. It was a tad weird being in his personal space all alone.
“I know you don’t know who I am, but I just wanted to make sure you were feeling okay,” you say sheepishly, avoiding direct eye contact with him.
“I know who you are. You’re Steve’s girl, right?” he asks, staring at you through the large mirror as he leans against the vanity.
“Right,” you nod, peering up at Elvis.
He sighs, “I’m alright, darlin’. My manager is just on my case about everything,” he growls.
“I’m sorry,” you say genuinely, taking a step forward in Elvis’ direction, “Is there anything I can do?”
He slowly drags his eyes up and down your body, taking you in, “I have an idea, but your boyfriend wouldn’t like it very much.”
“How do you know?” you ask, catching onto his wandering eyes as warmth spreads to your cheeks, “Steve is obviously very open to people’s ideas.”
Elvis smirks at your words, “You are right about that. But my ideas may not be ones he would consider creative.”
You feel a burst of confidence as you move to sit down in the chair next to you, letting your legs splay open a little. You’re wearing high-waisted pants, so there’s not much to reveal, but the insinuation is still there.
“I’m sure Steve would love to hear these ideas,” you smile, “But for now, I think you need to let out some of your negative emotions.”
“And what negative emotions would I have?” Elvis takes a step towards you, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I saw how upset you were earlier,” you say, seriousness taking over your expression, “And you seem more upset now that the Colonel is gone.”
Elvis leans over you, pressing his hands down on the arms of the chair on either side of you. He hums in acknowledgment, eyes raking over your body. You remain still, looking everywhere on his face but his eyes.
“Just how will you go about helping me let out these negative emotions, hmm?” Elvis says, his voice now deeper than before.
“However you need me to, Mr. Presley,” you gulp, staring up at him through your lashes.
“I need you to tell me, sweetheart. What are you offering that’s worth my while?”
Pressing a hand to his exposed chest, you push him away from you, and you stand up from the chair. You walk around behind Elvis and guide him to replace your spot in the yellow accent chair. Once he’s settled in it, you fall to your knees before him.
“I’m offering whatever you want,” you say, “But I have an idea of what you need.”
Wordlessly, Elvis gazes down at you through his impossibly long eyelashes, his pupils darkening at the sight of you pushing up his silken robe. He’s completely bare underneath it, so you don’t have to worry about removing anything. You’ve never done anything like this before. You’re always faithful to your partners and explore a fair amount, but you’ve never gone as far as having sex with someone else other than the person you were in a relationship with. You and Steve have explored your desires in and out of the bedroom, so something like this hasn’t been entirely out of the picture. But you never thought in a million years it’d be Elvis Presley you were quite literally fucking around with. However, Steve gave you permission, so you slowly moved your face closer to Elvis’ cock that’s now hard and against his stomach in front of you.
You lick a long stripe from the base all the way to the tip, where you circle your tongue slowly. Elvis maintains eye contact with you as you do so, a low groan vibrating in his throat. One of his large hands slides through your hair, his fingers gripping softly into your locks. Repeatedly circling his tip teasingly, you suddenly switch gears and take him into your mouth. You use your hand to pump at the other half of his cock that isn’t between your lips. Suddenly, a movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention, but you don’t cease your actions. The dressing room door is slightly creaked open, where you can see Steve peeking through. Your eyes don’t leave his as you let Elvis thrust himself fully into your mouth. He hits the back of your throat, and you let the hand that previously pumped him grip his thigh, your fingers massaging in time with his thrusts.
Elvis notices you stopped making eye contact with him and turns his head to see who you’re looking at. He barely can see Steve but knows it’s him watching.
“It seems we have an audience,” Elvis mumbles, his breath hitching when he hits the back of your throat at a certain angle.
Elvis doesn’t seem to mind Steve is watching- if anything, it made him harder against your tongue. The thought of your boyfriend watching as you took his cock in your mouth is erotic. You hum in response to Elvis’ comment, switching your focus back on his face instead of Steve’s. Quickening your pace, your throat closes around Elvis as he fucks your face incredibly faster. He feels himself twitch and hurries to pull out of your mouth before he cums.
“Wanna cum inside you while your boyfriend watches,” Elvis says hoarsely, his eyes hooded in arousal.
You scramble up from your position on your knees and stand there, waiting for Elvis’ command.
“Why don’t you give me and Steve a little show, hmm? Take off that lovely suit of yours,” he says, lazily pumping himself with his own hand, “Steve, you can come in for the full view.”
A few seconds pass before the door creaks open, revealing a disheveled Steve. He closes the door behind him quietly and remains in his spot behind the chair.
“Have a seat,” Elvis politely motions to the vanity chair despite the situation growing in intensity.
Steve slowly walks over to the vanity and sits down on the chair, taking in your messy hair and ruined makeup with a slight smirk on his face. You wait for him to settle before you begin removing articles of clothing at a slow pace. First, you pull off your blazer, letting it fall to the floor. Then, your blouse underneath, and finally, your pants. Now, you’re in just your underwear in front of Steve and Elvis. Your face burns from the feeling of their eyes drinking in your body.
“Take the rest off, Y/N,” Steve says softly from his spot behind you.
You slip a finger under your bra strap, pulling it down sensually as you connect your eyes with Elvis.
“You’ve got a beautiful lady here, Steve,” Elvis runs his tongue over his bottom lip hungrily, his hand still barely giving his cock attention.
“Don’t I know it,” Steve says, eyeing you from head to toe as you slip your other bra strap down your shoulder before unhooking it all together.
You shimmy out of your underwear and let them slide down your legs where the rest of your clothing is pooled. Now you’re starting to feel nervous being fully revealed in front of not just your boyfriend, but Elvis Presley as well. You aren’t used to so many eyes on you naked at once.
“Come here, darlin’,” Elvis motions for you to come to him, “Gonna ride me like the good girl you are.”
Elvis unties his robe, letting the sides of it lay in the chair by his legs as he reveals his body to you. You walk over to him and throw your legs over his hips, positioning yourself on his thighs. Taking him into your hand, you pump him a few times before raising your hips to line yourself up with his cock. You drag his tip along your arousal. You’re already wet from the fact your boyfriend is about to watch you fuck Elvis Presley. Pushing him in slowly, you adjust to the stretch as every inch enters you. You turn your head to glance behind you, and you see Steve has already untucked himself from his pants as he glides a hand along his cock. You feel Elvis hit your cervix as you take in all of him, wiggling your hips a little to get used to the fullness. Elvis places his hands on your hips, softly digging his fingers into your skin. He starts moving his hips upward, and you gasp at the feeling of him hitting your g spot dead on.
“You look so good on top of me, baby,” Elvis bites his lip as he takes in the sight of you riding him, his hair falling on his forehead as he thrusts into you steadily.
Steve matches his strokes with Elvis’, observing your side profile. The look of pleasure starting to form on your face turns him on. The whole ordeal is turning him on. He starts to think this is the best idea he’s ever come up with. You begin moving your hips along with Elvis’ thrusts, matching his rhythm as Elvis moves his hands from your hips to your breasts. He pinches your nipples, eliciting a high-pitched moan from you. Steve curses under his breath, but you hear it. You make sure to moan like that each time Elvis twists the sensitive buds between his fingers every few seconds. Both men are getting riled up from the sounds you’re letting out. Suddenly, Elvis starts to turn you around in his lap, forcing you to face in Steve’s direction.
“Steve, why don’t you let your lady please you too?” Elvis says, beckoning him to come over to you.
Steve gets up from the vanity chair and walks to you where you’ve now opened your mouth, prepared to take him. You look up at him through your lashes as you grab hold of his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip. Elvis continues his quick thrusts into your impossibly wet pussy, the sound echoing in the dressing room. Steve feels himself harden even more at the sights and sounds in front of him. He runs his fingers through your hair, gripping it as you pull him into your mouth and down your throat. You let him guide your head along his length, gagging lightly when he hits the back of your throat. You feel so full, but in the best way. Both Elvis and Steve were fucking you in both ends, and it feels indescribable. The two of them match their paces, Elvis hitting the sensitive spot inside you simultaneously that Steve was hitting the back of your throat. Tears stream down your face at the overstimulation, but god, it was so good. You feel a knot forming in your stomach, and you know Elvis is nowhere near finished, and neither is Steve, so you try your best to push it away.
“I can feel that you’re close, baby,” Elvis chuckles, running his hand over the curve of your ass before landing a slap directly on it, causing you to surge forward and sending Steve’s cock further down your throat.
You groan in response, holding back your gag reflex. Elvis snakes a hand around to circle your clit, stoking the fire growing in your belly. You pull off of Steve for a moment.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whine, immediately resuming sucking your boyfriend off as you push yourself on Elvis as fast as you can.
“Cum, baby girl. Cum on my cock and let your man watch,” Elvis smirks, not letting up on his assault on your clit as he slams into your g spot.
Stars burst behind your eyes, and your vision goes white as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t stop letting Steve fuck into your mouth, and Elvis is continuing to slap his hips into your ass. If you felt overstimulated before, it was nothing compared to this. Both men don’t let up on their rhythms, still slamming themselves into you with no mercy.
“Gonna take it like the little slut you are?” Steve grips your jaw, his pace becoming faster as he nears his own orgasm. He keeps his eyes on yours as you try your best to keep them open.
You can’t nod, so you moan around him as you relax your throat and let him do with you as he pleased. Elvis keeps circling your clit with his fingers at the same he’d fuck himself into you. At this point, you’re so buzzed from your orgasm and overstimulation that you let go and let them both do what they want with you. Everything felt so good, and you didn’t want it to stop, even if you felt like you were floating. Elvis’ hips start sputtering, and Steve starts getting sloppy with his movements, alerting you that they’re both close. Steve hits the back of your throat at a different angle and cums in your mouth, and you swallow it with no hesitation. The sound of Steve letting out a guttural moan sends Elvis over the edge, his cum shooting into you in hot spurts. You lean against Steve’s stomach as he runs his hands over your hair comfortingly.
“You did so well, baby,” he says reassuringly, “So good.”
You just hum a reply, unable to move a muscle. Elvis helps you off of him, and Steve assists in getting you to stand up. Your legs wobble, and both men hold your shoulders and waist to steady you.
“Thank you, darlin’. I need some takin’ care of from a beautiful lady,” Elvis flashes a smile as he leaves you with Steve to retrieve a towel.
Steve takes the towel from him and cleans you up, and you’re still trying to snap out of your daze. Elvis offers you some water, and you graciously take it, carefully gulping it down as your brain starts to feel less fuzzy.
“I’m glad to have helped,” you smile back finally, feeling very aware of sweat and tears drying on your face.
Steve zips his pants up and kisses your forehead before gathering your clothes from the floor. He offers them to you, which you accept, and you begin to get dressed as he and Elvis talk.
“Thank you for that. It’s been a weird day,” Elvis says, running a hand through his hair as he reties his robe.
“Yeah, Y/N figured you either need some kind words or some kind actions. She’s good at that sort of thing,” Steve chuckles.
“About what you said earlier, about me needing to say something,” Elvis furrows his eyebrows in thought, “It reminded me of something someone told me once.”
Steve and Elvis converse further as you finish getting redressed. You study your reflection in the mirror, wiping at the smeared makeup under your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you let it out before walking over to where your boyfriend was.
“Hey baby,” Steve tucks you into his side, “E.P. and I are going to head back to the booth to work on something. Do you feel up to joining us?”
“Of course,” you smile, “What are you guys working on?”
“A song,” Elvis returns your smile, “A song the world needs to hear right now.”
“Then let’s get it out there.”
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it ain't stealin' if ya sharin'
fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley | austin butler
rating: m
pairing: dacre! steve binder x gender neutral reader x austin! elvis presley. steve binder x gender neutral reader. a tiny bit of steve binder x elvis presley
word count: 2940
warnings: infidelity on elvis's part. p in v sex ( unprotected ). voyeurism mentioned. switch elvis. switch everyone tbh. spitroasting. lube is mentioned. minor praise kink maybe. choking with ascots. mild cock drunkenness. use of the nickname stevie. use of the nicknames babe and darlin' in place of y/n. no use of y/n.
author’s note: welcome to day 8 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, threesome with steve binder x reader x elvis presley. this is a continuation of ride it, my pony you don't have to read it for this to make sense but it helps. and if you want to think of it this way, the day one fic with the cuckolding and this are two branches of the same tree. this is done specifically for @blurredcolour because she asked and i am a good friend. i know it says austin elvis and all that jazz but it's because she asked for that specifically but y'all know my drill. imagine who you'd like.
"You want to do what?" You ask, your eyebrows practically attaching themselves to your hairline. "Because I don't think I heard you right."
For what it's worth, Steve has the decency to look chagrined, has the decency to look away and act as if he briefly has no idea what both him and Elvis have suggested to you before realizing that you of all the people see right through him. He opens his mouth to speak before Elvis intervenes.
"I think ya heard us just fine. Jus' think ya don't think we're bein' serious. Think I'm jus' pullin' ya leg, don't ya?"
Steve watches several emotions flutter over your face and find that's perhaps he should step in. There's an undercurrent of aggravation he recognizes too well and it worries him. You're his partner, the love of his life if he's being honest and the last thing he wants to do is to put you in a spot where you feel you're being mocked or played with in any sort of way.
"What EP is trying to say is that— it might be beneficial for all of us to just once have sex together." Steve's words are a little stilted and you can't help but smile with a bit of fondness. Normally he has no problem talking about sex, especially with you and yet in trying to broach this topic in a way that has far more tact than Elvis is choosing to employ he has managed to somewhat trip himself up with his own words. "We'd be focusing more on you, I think, but we've— EP's—"
"I've been wanting to see what's so special 'bout ya that you got Steve here wrapped around ya finger." Elvis explains with that smile of his that charms even the most callous of people and you are not a callous person. No, you— much like your boyfriend can respect and admire just how attractive Elvis is from his personality to those eyes that pin you in place and that body that can do the same exact thing. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you watch as his eyes follow your tongue.
"And if I told you there's nothing special but an enjoyment of playing with ascots?" The words are teasing but Steve smirks just a little knowing exactly where you're going with this. It's funny, you always have been good at reading people.
Elvis's pupils expand just a bit and you hear a hitch in his breathing that makes you almost want to laugh. Instead you share a look with Steve that looks downright sinister. Steve remembers a day or two ago where you were grinding on his thigh, practically choking him with his ascot and how he had joked about you needing to choke Elvis and perhaps it had been a bit of a prediction, not that he knew it at the time.
"Playing with, that's not quite what they do, E. They can hold it so tight when you're in them. Practically choke you if you want." Steve looks at you before eyeing Elvis up and down. "You heard the joke I made, didn't you? We've been hearing you and watching you perform for the past few days. Maybe you'd—"
"Steve." Both you and Elvis practically groan out his name partially in warning but partially to allow the image he's starting to paint to sit inside both of your minds. You can see it clear as day. Elvis panting and grunting as he chases pleasure you're bringing him with Steve. Elvis cooing sweet nothings or muttering pure filth in your ear as he has you reaching heights you never have before. Between your legs you feel your most intimate parts pulsating. Your arousal starts to form and curl in your lower abdomen and you can't help but stare at Elvis as it does.
"You really want this, don't you?" You try and tease even if it's undercut by how your own voice wavers just that little bit. "You want us to let you have the pleasure of being a part of what we do? Make it so you're not jerking off to me in the dark corner of a room?"
Elvis's face flushes and you finally let out a laugh before Steve comes to stand next to you. "I told you that they'd be fine with it, Elvis. Even if I didn't know how to explain it."
"Because you're a possessive man. You're worried they're gonna leave ya if I show 'em a good time. Ain't that right?" Elvis turns to look at you. "You said it yourself, ya like me more."
It's then that your hand moves out to grasp the ascot tied around Elvis's neck, fingering the red silk before yanking it forward, watching as Elvis sputters and coughs from the sudden shift in his oxygen intake. "Not what I said. But he is pretty possessive. He's not the only one. Maybe I won't want to give you up. Ask Priscilla for visiting rights with me and Steve."
Both you and Steve watch as Elvis's Adam's apple bobs as he swallowed thickly, words failing him until he manages something quiet. "Don't need her permission."
Steve and you share a look before holding out a hand for Elvis from each of you. Steve manages to speak first. "You've been doing good enough while filming. Let's enjoy the treat we want to give you. The one I want you to give them. Make up for how long I've been working day in and day out."
The thing is, you know better than to do something like this at Steve's work. It's tempting, to be sure, and there's a couch that could fit the three of you with a surprising amount of ease but for situations like this and for discretion a bed is what's truly needed. It's easy enough for Elvis to say something about late filming and it's easy enough for you and Steve to for once in this whole thing to be home together at a sensible time. All those things are easy enough and yet somehow seeing Elvis at the door to your house puts things into a strange surreal perspective. That perspective is only heightened the moment the door to your house shuts and Elvis pulls you into a kiss that threatens to take your very soul from your body. It's all consuming, plush lips that press against yours and a tongue that finds its way in between your lips, deepening the kiss with a ease you have to marvel at in the moment. Your teeth dig into his lower lip, a warning and a promise of more to come that has him pressing you against the wall and has his hand fiddling with the button on your jeans.
Your hands move on top of his, taking in how tense they are, how determined he is to get both of you naked to some degree and you smile against his lips even as you pull away. "Not in the hallway. Steve's already in bed. Come on."
Elvis doesn't waste a minute following you, his hands gravitating to your hips and pressing his arousal against your ass. You can't help but grind backwards even as you walk, earning a groan from Elvis. His lips move to nip and bite at your neck, murmuring against your skin. "Goddammit. Should've known you'd be doing that even if you weren't in my lap. You do this to Stevie? Tease him like this before you get into bed?"
A low hum is the only answer you give even as Elvis's hand moves to undo your buttons and finally manages to get his hand between your legs, cupping the part of you that wants him and your boyfriend so badly it threatens to overwhelm you. You hear him practically growling against your ear as you finally reach your bedroom. "That's all for me? Figured ya were needy from how ya were on his thigh but— darlin' this is somethin' else."
Steve manages to look over at the two of you, naked except for his underwear and his ascot— your specific request— at that exact time. His eyes take in the picture you and Elvis paint. The picture of Elvis coming undone just from touching between your legs, panting behind you and practically dry humping you. The picture of your jeans partially undone with Elvis cupping between your legs, touching what Steve had told him was only his. He's not worried about Elvis stealing you because can you steal something if you're sharing it? His pupils dilate, taking over the entirety of his iris as he moves over to you. Elvis looks over at Steve and waits for the other man to make a move before he shrugs and pulls him into a small kiss that you can watch. A whimper leaves your lips as you buck against Elvis's hand. When they pull apart, their eyes flit to you and how your hips move of their own violation. Steve speaks first, teasing in a way only he can.
"Thought we were supposed to make him beg, babe? You just want to have both of us focusing on you, don't you? You've been so patient with me. Been so patient with how hard he's been working for me and with me. You deserve this."
Your mouth opens to speak only to be cut off with another kiss from Elvis and his hand starting to pull away from between your legs. "This is just all of us sharin', ain't it? Now get on the bed, baby. We're gonna take care of ya so fuckin' well."
A noise that sounds like a whimper leaves your lips and you hear both Elvis and Steve chuckle as Elvis's hands move to your hips to pull down your pants and Steve's hands busy themselves with the buttons of your shirt. It's a marvel none of you trip over the other's feet and a marvel you don't have your eyes roll into the back of your head as you hear praise from both of them about how you're so patient and good and you can be needy right now. They've got you.
Your bed feels different in this moment, with the weight of three people instead of two on it and you inadvertently cant your hips up in the air because it. Elvis's hands on your hips tighten in an effort to get you to stay still only for you to arch more, whining as you do.
"Don't— Don't tease. Want— Don't want to wait." The words tumble out of your mouth as you feel Steve sucking and nipping at your pulse point, his hands moving across your chest and your whole torso. "Need—"
Steve shushes you with a finger to your lips, "we can see, babe. We can see how much you need us. We've got you. Elvis's got the lube, babe. Gonna make it easy to slide in."
You hear the words Steve speaks but don't quite realize until you feel your underwear finally being pulled off entirely with Elvis's hands running ever so slowly down your hips and thighs only to move right back up them. Your legs fall open, giving him the view of your most intimate parts that only Steve gets to see and you feel Elvis shift and rut against the bed for a moment before he takes his cock in hand, pulling his foreskin back. It's as if your eyes are glued to his cock, even as Steve gives attention to every other part of you, his lips covering your neck in kisses, biting your lips red. One of your hands moves to pull down Steve's underwear and moves up and down his cock, marveling in how much precum is already there. It lets your hand glide across the skin of his cock and you almost wish you could taste it right now. A bit of drool escapes your lips at the idea and Elvis notices.
"Steve. Stevie. Think— I think they wanna be in the middle all proper. Cock at the top and the bottom." As if to punctuate the point one of his hands moves to cup your cheek and his thumb brushes against your lips, a smirk forming on his face. "Ain't that right, yittle."
A choked off groan leaves your lips as your tongue chases after his thumb and the word yittle bounces around your head. You're not that much younger than Steve and yet Elvis calling you that sends a rush through your body and has you trying to move to do just that. Only both Steve and Elvis's hands stop you. You start to argue and beg and plead only to have Steve move to sit on the bed properly so that you can do what you want. So you can have his cock in your mouth, so you can have the taste of his cum roll down your throat as Elvis thrusts into you. Steve's hand moves to stroke your cheek as he looks down at you with the sort of love that makes your heart threaten to burst inside you. That look is why you're willing to do this, why you're willing to share yourself and him with Elvis. This man loves you and he'd do anything for you and he wouldn't do this if he didn't want to or if you didn't.
He doesn't speak but he does mouth love you as he pushes his cock in between your open lips and lets out a groan of pleasure at how your lips tighten around him. Elvis doesn't enter you immediately afterward, choosing to play with himself just a bit as he watches Steve's cock slide in between your lips, stretching them around it. Maybe if the three of you ever did anything like this again he could— he could have those lips around his, your tongue playing with his foreskin just a little. The image of you doing that playing in his head spurs him into action finally, making sure he's got enough lubrication for you to be able to enjoy this. Making sure you can take his cock inside you. He starts off slow, his cock entering you bit by bit, savoring the way your body shakes and savoring the noises he hears you making around Steve's cock. The other man can't hold back his own noises as he puts his hand on the back of your head, trying to push you down more, wanting more of your mouth. It takes a moment to find a rhythm once he's fully seated inside you but after a bit, it happens. Elvis thrusts into you, cursing at how tight you feel around his cock, telling you he understands now, understands the spell you've got Steve under.
"The hell ya spendin' so much time wit' me when ya got this at home, Binder? Fuckin' Christ, yittle. Gonna— I ain't gonna last. Fuckin'— Gonna make me cum like 'm a fuckin' teenager." Elvis slurs out the words, his accent thickening the more he thrusts into you, his fingers gripping your hips with a strength you knew he had but is invigorating to be on the receiving end of. As you push back against him he lets out a soft laugh and one of his hands move between your legs, touching where you need to be touched so that you can cum just the same as the two of them. "That's it, I gotcha. Steve's a little busy, but I got ya. Cum for us, make a mess that we gotta clean up."
That coil inside you, the one sitting low in your abdomen that's so wound up you could scream finally feels like it's starting to snap. You don't want to cum first though, you want Steve to cum down your throat before you do. Thankfully you know how to do that, know how to get him to do it and though it makes you a little unbalanced you move to grab at his ascot and yank it ever so softly but it's enough have Steve breathlessly cursing as you feel his cum fill your throat. A litany of praise and declarations of love leaves his mouth as you start to swallow only slightly choking. Your own orgasm hits you with a certain movement of Elvis's hand and despite your best efforts you can feel Steve's cum slide out of your mouth, dribbling ever so slightly. Elvis's thrusts are getting rougher and less controlled and you want to pull your mouth off of Steve to say something only to feel Steve yank Elvis forward by his ascot in for another kiss and a murmured request.
"Let yourself go, E."
As if it was an order you feel Elvis cum inside you and hear the muttered curse as he does. He hadn't meant to but as he pulls out and sees it dripping from you, he can't complain. The three of you are breathless and silent in the afterglow as you all flop onto the bed, arms and legs tangled just so in a way that feels oddly right. After a moment you finally speak.
"If that's what I get for letting Steve work with you till all hours. You— you can work all night and all day," you whisper, looking a little shell-shocked as you pull on Elvis's ascot to get a kiss. "Can— can we do that again? Reversed?"
Steve and Elvis share a look over your head before shrugging. "Better than filming all night. And I think we need to properly share."
taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @amydarcimarie, @justrae9903, @thegettingbyp2, @stylespresleyhearted i know i am missing people but i am unsure whom at this point.
#elvis presley#austin butler#austin butler elvis x you#austin butler elvis#austin butler elvis x reader#elvis presley x reader#elvis presley x you#steve binder x reader#steve binder x you#steve binder#steve binder x y/n#elvis presley x y/n#austin elvis x reader#austin elvis#elvis presely smut#austin elvis smut#austin butler elvis smut#elvis presley fanfic#austin butler elvis fanfic#ally writes#ally's wet hot smut summer#( i am missing tags but i don't know which ones i need any more. )
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A Whole Man is Hard to Find - chapter 13
an Elvis Presley fanfic AU
Warnings: the typical universe warnings apply for this chapter, special emphasis on dated views both held and aspersions cast, by various characters
Summary: picking up from where we left off, this particular one is a bro chapter, -as I like to call the ones sans Rosey- though perhaps the underlying homoeroticism and money talk dampens the broship a bit ;)
Love note from a nutty author: thank y’all so much for all the feedback, love, screaming and prompts, it means the world to me that we’ve gotten as far as we have with this story and I cannot wait to continue on, sharing it with y’all has been such a bright spot of my year. Here’s to hoping this chapter isn’t too boring or grammatically offensive. Apologies to Steve Binder for me always making him a twink, it’s a cross some have to bear
“Captain Presley!” Calhoun’s panted greeting and the boy’s flailing limbs collided with Elvis the minute he stepped on deck, “I was trying t’stay awake last night t’tell ya but I fell asleep and then Mr Schilling wouldn’t tell m’where ya where when I done woke up this’mornin an’ I was tryin to find Miss Beaumont, -and he weren’t no help with that either, and just had to find ya…“
“Breathe my boy, try takin a breath, that it!” Elvis huffed good naturedly, patting his scrawny back as the kid gripped his fine clothes and babbled a mile a minute, “You found me now, and I’ll listen but ya gotta hold it for a lil longer, got a real powerful man comin aboard any second now.”
Cal bit his lip in frustration with the one front tooth left him, “But I gotta tell ya what I saw-“
“-And I wanna hear it, more than anythin’, but in a minute.” Elvis insisted with firm gentleness, spinning the boy around and tucking him under his arm as he walked them both towards the head of the gang plank. “Jerrah!“ he greeted his friend who looked like he was about to be sick by the sight of the approaching dandified official, “Who ya watchin? Oh why, if it ain’t the cute lil fucker with the crush on me.” he mimed surprise at the sight of the approaching visitor just for the satisfaction of seeing Jerry Schilling turn a shade greener, “Mr Bundle, wasn’t it?”
“Binder -as you know damn well.” Jerry seethed, “And if we aren’t all locked up for your obscenity by breakfast then it’ll be due to the intervention of a loving god.”
“Goodnessme.” Elvis clucked his tongue, “Mind yourself in front of the boy.”
“I should be telling you that.” Jerry shot back. “Only the pleasure of delivering a fate that’s real painful for both of us would give that man the energy and bravery to show his face after last night.”
“Since you’re so peckish, why don’t ya take Cal down below, allow me to handle this.”
“I don’t trust ya to handle that fancy man in any way shape or form that would be beneficial.” Jerry belligerently stuck a cigar in his mouth and his hands in his pockets, “I had to tuck him into a carriage like a helpless child he was so wobbly after you were finished with him. Reckon I’ll mind my post, thanks very much.”
“Goin down with boat, hmm, Jerrah?” Elvis snickered.
“Besides,” Jerry ignored him, “that fat fuck of yours is down below givin instructions to clear the boat out and won’t elaborate when he said he’d imprison me for obstructin federal orders when I told him I only take orders from you.”
“The hell?” Elvis muttered in bewilderment.
“So, you don’t know what he’s up to either? Damn him. How’s Miss Beaumont?” Jerry turned with Elvis to face their oncoming guests, calculating that brevity would force his friend to be honest.
Elvis could feel Calhoun’s hopeful, upturned face waiting for his reply. He tightened his hug on Cal’s shoulders and murmured a tersely comforting “Well enough, she’ll be at breakfast.” out the side of his mouth while turning to greet Mr Binder as that fellow gingerly stepped off the ramp and onto his polished deck.
Gray suit, gray waistcoat, blue tie. Elvis' little lesson had not gone unheeded. The pretty official’s eyes were near azure with the new touch of dyed silk.
“My dear Mr. Binder!” Captain Presley greeted with obnoxious familiarity, “This is an unexpected treat!”
Binder looked at the hand offered in a handshake like it might bite him before thrusting forth his pallid one and squeezing the Captain’s hand so tightly the rings bit into his fingers and bruised. It made Elvis grin wider.
“To what do we owe this visit?” Elvis queried, taking stock of the multiple federal soldiers arranged behind Binder like personal Pretorians, stiff and ready to guard the government’s dutiful clerk from a second defilement. “Ya here for business or pleasure?”
Mr. Binder’s hitherto stoic face flushed crimson as the Captain’s rankling pleasantries angered him enough he found his tongue, “Business, Captain P-Presley, b-business -of course, what else.”
“Oh I dunno, didn’t wanna presume,” Elvis raised two placating hands in surrender, causing his bracelet round his wrist to jangle against his time piece, “gotta whole lotta ‘else’ aboard.”
“I-I’m here to tell you, Captain Presley,” Binder’s tone grew firmer after managing to at last say his name without a stutter, “that the government has requisitioned your boat -for a brief period, not long, just a brief period to transport troops upriver to the territories.”
“And it just had to be my boat?” Elvis glowered, his amusement fast fading.
“Yes, yes your boat is required and, and your skill recommends you as perfect for the handling of…handling of -your skills as a captain I mean, of course! -handling of men…troops, government property.” he brought his clutched order up to his face and examined the paper frantically before quoting: “-Captaining government assets up the treacherous waterway to St Paul.”
He rallied at the end after consulting his orders, managing to find a vocabulary that did not provoke double entendres, lowering the paper and looking at the Captain with federal expectancy.
Elvis mourned Binder’s success only briefly before allowing himself to absorb the reality of a trip up north under government orders, all protest against it resulting in a even worse demand. Or prison. Jerry gave a snicker beside him at their ill luck, the self inflicted karma of Elvis’ fucking with this dainty fellow.
“I am ever at my country’s service, Mr Binder.” Captain Presley replied with grave decorum before remembering the importance of keeping so easily flummoxed an ally on his side, “-and at yours.” he added in a tone he had not heard himself use in a coons age.
His tongue felt sour from how easy it had been to slip back into it, even sober. How effective it yet remained on the man before him who’s professional reply died on his lips with that personal addition.
Mr Binder’s betraying flush lasted one single, damning moment before a genuine scowl of derision replaced the fawnish wince of before. Mr. Schilling feared this had gone too far at last, a death blow was about to be struck to his incorrigible friend’s long streak of bridge burning immunity. Jerry often wondered if Elvis perhaps wanted to burn the whole operation to the riverbed floor, so as to be done with the carnival shit. Handing that job to someone else would make him blameless. No one was better positioned than Mr Binder to damn them so expertly.
“And I came to aid you, Captain.” Mr. Binder continued with admirable indifference to his momentary slip.
“Oh?”
“Yes, I’ve a question for you.” Mr. Binder nodded, looking once at Mr. Schilling and then the boy Calhoun who was watching these proceedings with fascinated bewilderment.
“Ah now, I’ve never known a question that was helpful, Mr. Bi-“
“Don’t.” Jerry begged, slapping Elvis’ hand from its intended journey to Binder’s flinching shoulder. “Just don’t, for once in your life.”
“I’ve been sent by President Grant’s Administration to clean up the laws and commerce of the Mississippi River, Captain Presley,” Mr. Binder stated his well worn script of the evening prior, “and you best believe I intend to do so. But I’d rather not lock up its most able captains when I think the corruption I seek is ashore. Do you understand me, sir? Or do you only speak in the lustful language of the depraved? Your…purser led me to believe you were a -deeper- sort of man.”
Mr. Schilling’s cough was grating and deafening enough to make Cal jump in surprise. “There was mention of aid and a question, Mr Binder?” he redirected with effortless, homespun charm.
“Yes, I suppose there was.” Binder flicked his clear blue eyes over to the second mate, “Do you men not want to partner with me or do you actually enjoy slowly declining into outdated, useless finery?”
“Beg pardon?”
“What I’m trying to understand, Mr. Schilling is why after agreeing to the boat race one of you would put in an offer, tantamount to a request, to be used by the United States army, thus disqualifying you from such a race for nigh on half a month's time? Do you really hate the idea of making money so much you’d wreck your own ticket? Or am I right in judging that neither of you knew about this development until now?
Mr. Schilling and Captain Presley exchanged a look that was a non verbal communication of a resounding “told ya so” on Jerry’s part in regards to the basic command structure aboard.
“I am correct?” Binder prodded, a prim sort of authority having bloomed in him when left in peace from fiddling fingers and dancing blue eyes, “Right, then, the next question is, who actually owns this ship?
“It’s a boat, sir.” Elvis corrected gently.
More silence followed and Cal craned his neck near backwards to observe the Captain’s silent seething from the vantage point of under his jaw. It seemed to him that conversations between important men involved a great deal of glaring and not much talk. If Rosey had been there she would have taken note of the thumping vein in his neck, giving away how very much Elvis appreciated Colonel Parker wrecking his first, profitable, basic chance for autonomy.
“It was mentioned to me,” Mr. Binder went on, “-in the early morning as I had not bothered with sleep and the light was on and a fellow felt free to approach my desk- that Colonel Parker left the gala last night and departed straight away to the telegraph office, and thence to the railway office, before coming back to his lodgings aboard. Does any of this interest you, Captain Presley? I’ll repeat, who owns this boat? And why would they rather it act as a human cattle car than make a profit by submitting to a constitutionally elected committee?”
“That would be one Colonel Parker, of telegraph and railway office fame.” Jerry made a brave decision and smiled placidly, even as Elvis gave him a look that would strike most men dead. “Very fond of the old method, that one, you know, the dancing, singing, gambling, carnival style method that the railway is gonna make obsolete in a couple years.”
“I own this damn boat.” Captain Presley growled over Cal’s head and the boy felt his shoulder nearly crushed under his clenching hand.
“Not according to Mr. Moore, ya don’t, been goin through all those papers like ya asked….” Jerry kept smiling the smile of someone who enjoys a victory at all costs, and Elvis smiled the teeth-clenched smile of one who’d rather seethe than cry over a betrayal.
“How bout we take this somewhere, more private.” Elvis offered to Mr. Binder with admirable decorum for a man in such dire need of breakfast.
“Yes.” Mr. Binder was hesitant to leave the pure, open air of the deck and the federal guardians of his purity for an enclosed office and Captain Presley’s wiles, “Some discretion might not be amiss.” he conceded.
“Excellent, be so good as ta follow me, and you, Schilling,” Elvis pushed a firm hand against his mate’s chest, “will stay above with Cal and see to it that no more unloading happens until I can sort this little miscommunication out, hmm?”
“Yes, Boss.” Jerry donned his now quite common look of sullen mutiny but he took Cal under his arm nonetheless, watching with stubborn hope as the two men descended the stairs to the Captain’s practically unused office.
“What was it that you so badly wanted to tell the Captain about, boy?” Jerry asked Calhoun after a split second’s decision to make business that wasn’t his business his business. He had a strange presentiment that all business aboard would soon be everyone’s business with the way things were devolving so rapidly.
“Colonel Parker pointed a gun at me.” Cal shrugged with aggrieved pride at having been put off so long.
“Now that weren’t very patient of him.”Jerry remarked, “What’d you do?”
“I didn’t do nothin!” Cal remonstrated viciously.
“What’d he do, then? -No, no you ain’t taken the piano anywhere, not nothin else is goin off here till the Captain comes back up!” Jerry broke off to yell at a few movers who were beginning to haul out the dining halls' more entertaining furniture, “Go get, move your asses back, nothin comes out till he says. Now, you were sayin, Calhoun?”
“I was goin into Miss Beaumont’s office for my lesson-“
“-that’s really Rosetta’s office, boy.”
“-yes, right, well, it’s got the safe in it, and it was empty ‘cept for the Colonel and he was busy diggin’ through it and pullin things out,” Cal explained, “and they were things I’d seen the passengers give Miss Beaumont and she done locked them up and had them slip things-“
“-deposit slips.”
“-yeah, depot slips, and he was takin the jewels out and he spooked real bad when I came in.”
“Why’d he point a gun at ya?” Jerry gnawed on his cigar placidly much to Cal’s irritation.
“He told me not to say nothin bout what I’d seen. And I asked him why not.” Cal shrugged as if this were explanation enough.
“Then what?”
“I done told ya, he pulled a gun on me!”
“Jus’ like that. You didn’t say nothin smart back or nothin?”
“Well I-“
“C’mon now, what’d you say?” Jerry fancied himself a decent detective when it came to children, the trick of it he figured, was never to outgrow one’s own childish logic.
“Well I may have told him that Miss Beaumont had killed over less.” Calhoun smiled the smile of the crooked and the besotted and Jerry offered up a prayer for him that his teeth would grow back in at a rapid pace.
“Yeah, that’ll be what done it.” Jerry leaned back against the bulkhead and looked out at the slate gray sky where it met the muddy river and imagined going northward under these conditions.
“Stick next to me or ya might get tossed over to the gators, not be the first to go that way.”
“There ain’t any gators this far north!”
“You wanna test that, boy?”
“No! No sir!”
“You done told anyone else about this?” Jerry inquired in the way of those making conversation for lack of a better pastime.
“Rosetta, rights before you hauled me up here.”
“Oh, that’s excellent.” Jerry observed, “She’ll have told most the boat but now in her righteous fury, and there won’t be no way that fucker won’t hear it somehow or other.”
“What fucker?” Cal inquired placidly.
“Elvis.” Jerry replied as if the words were synonymous.
Elvis felt himself in about as foreign a space as Mr Binder, so little used was his office and entirely stocked with his father’s materials, not his own. It was sobering, that recollection of his father’s plight and he ushered Mr. Binder into the cramped space with the gravity befitting his station. He flicked open the blinds and let the now overcast sky make a dent into the gloom and settled himself behind the desk.
“How can I help you, Mr. Binder?” he asked placidly.
Mr. Binder took time to seat himself and flick out his coattails, adjust his cravat and scan the office before folding his hands in his lap and replying with tepid politeness, “I spent a rather sleepless night last night.”
Elvis' arms tensed on the chair rests and his fingers began to stipple on the desk top uncontrollably. He himself had done a great deal of thinking about how far he’d go for a pardon, for Rosey’s pardon, and he had comforted himself that his promises and vows to God might be easily upheld if he had so antagonized Binder against him as to turn away the fellow’s desire as well. Mr Binder, to Elvis inward alarm, did not seem particularly antagonized. “I spend quite a few of those myself.” he ventured. “I like to spend them reading.”
“As do I.” Mr. Bidner smiled and it was a pleasant, sparkly sort of smile Elvis suspected only made a show when the fellow didn’t intend for it to, the thought of books had brought it out, “Usually Milton or Shakespeare, the Brontës.”
“Mm.” Elvis smiled encouragingly.
“Last night,” Mr Binder continued in this way, “ I was kept enthralled by twelve years of case files on one Elvis Aaron Presley.”
Elvis knew his face had gone white, he knew the tell tale signs of that cold cheeked response, but he kept his mouth firm, his eyes glinting, his body painfully still.
Binder went on, “I’ve had my officers taking a look into things regarding this whole operation, not just yours but the whole of it up and down the river. Shocking amount of corruption, mostly from authorities ashore I found, though of course there’s the gambling and the prostitution and the murders, all charged to various accounts -and through it all, yours was a shockingly thick stack of case notes. And then it just…ends.” he had no lilt of glee or triumph in his voice, they could have been critiquing the latest Dumas’ publication, so placid was his narrative, “Just a single line of aquittal, stamped with a Judge’s seal and every heinous crime they don’t even let people talk about gets swept under the rug and you get yourself a nice little river boat and a life -of sorts. If you call this living.” and there was the old, now familiar derision Elvis was hearing more and more in the voices of the younger set.
“So what?” Elvis asked, his voice lowly ominous as he allowed himself to swivel back and forth in the desk chair, childishly unconcerned, “You gonna arrest me now, ya pant wetting pansy?”
That barb had the intended effect, Mr. Binder’s face flushed red and what bit of dominance he had secured in the room fluttered precariously in the heat blast of Elvis’ scorn. The poor man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and undid the meticulously pressed thing with careless haste, pressing it to his sweating eyes. Elvis thought the room rather chilly. He may have commented to that affect.
“We have an opportunity here, Captain Presley,” Mr Binder rallied, but took care to address himself to the floor, and the foot of Vernon’s desk, “a very brief window of opportunity where we can pass the buck to certain officials currently being investigated and culled in preparation for President Grant’s termination and the reign of the ever so scrupulous Mr. Hayes. He’ll get the nomination, don’t even argue the point sir, he’ll get it. What that gives us, is both a tiny window in which to entirely reinvent the Mississippi River into something modern and respectable -a river upon which families and merchants may traverse without impunity- and toss the crimes, such as you yourself engaged in with bribery, back to the officials themselves, instead of the poor, innocent captain’s from whom the bribes were extracted. Do you get me?”
“You wanna keep your captains while locking up a bunch of senators and congressmen and judges?” Elvis summarized patiently.
“Yes, yes I do!”
“That’s real cute, sir.”
“Oh for God’s sake man! It’s already happening!” Binder cried through a face aflame, “Three in Arkansas and two in Mississippi last month! General Grant has taken stock of his presidency and found that it’ll be recalled as a trash fire of corruption and back room deals. He’d rather his deputies' sins not have the last word so he is cleaning house, monumentally, and it’s effecting the juries. They hear about the corruption in other states, they hear of action being taken and actual resignations occurring -they’re voting with the common people caught in the middle. It’s dismantling reconstruction faster than policies and trust me, men like your idiotic partner know their time has come. Middle men are going down to hell with their crooked beautocrats and that’s the way it should be.”
“Mr Bidner, I think you’ll find that -this dirty money you so abhor, it’s what’s made these illustrious captains you wish to save.” Elvis observed him closely, “And I’ve personal stakes here, I do gamble, I do have women aboard who make their living on the passengers, I do have a record such as would prevent me from being offered any common job -but most importantly, my father is in a Memphis jail cell, and has lingered there for months, no bail.”
“I’m sorry to hear that and-“
“Mr Binder!” Elvis insisted on being heard, “You can play the reformer all you want, but if this backfires, it’s goin to be me and my dependents gettin scorched. There’s not a single city councilor or judge in Memphis who I trust worth a damn, and I’m tellin you in confidence, I’m telling you that I’m about to send a pile of gold down to them in exchange for my father, and I’ve sent piles and piles before this to keep them happy. Now is that something you can just…write off when you accuse these men?”
“Yes.” Binder smiled and Elvis wanted to smack the man, “Yes I can, Captain, if it’s just gold that we are talking, I can. Such are the last days of the Grant Administration.”
“My darlin man,” Elvis leant forward over the desk, “you’ve no idea what you’re up against.”
“I think I do.” Mr. Binder’s pretty brows were drawn in a stern line and he too leaned forward, “All I’m asking, is that you don’t fight me on it, that you let me sort this out, that you do not come to the defense of your partner when and if he is implicated, that you warn me here and now if there is more to be found than a money trail. Is that so very hard?”
“You want me to betray a man I owe everythin, to, and then ask me to trust ya?” Elvis laughed.
“I ask you acknowledge the way of the future, sir, and I ask you to see that a man who has made a living taking homes from the impoverished, providing blackmail for politicians and who saw a skilled tart in yourself and took advantage to build this fucking carnival has been long overdo in reaping what he is about to sow.” Mr. Binder’s voice had steadily rose throughout this tirade and Elvis was surprised to find instead of shrill it became rather impressive, “And trust me, I’ve got my damn sickle out, and I’m going to harvest this operation you’ve got going here, and you can either have your pretty neck snapped for past crimes and your Purser’s neck, too, or you can aid me in this. Those are you options, sir. I don’t like threats, Captain Presley,” he sniffled briefly as he smoothed himself back into decorous moderation, “they don’t inspire loyalty. But I’ve brought a gift of sorts, a goodwill token, if you will. To show you I mean business, and that my business is not to your detriment.”
Elvis slowly extended his hand over the desktop to grasp the offered documents. In the pale, overcast light of the office window he could read that one was a telegraphed but nonetheless officially stamped and signed pardon for one Miss Savannah Beaumont of Belle Meade plantation.
He looked up at Binder, incredulous that the man had accomplished this in less than twelve hours. Testing the pansy as to whether he had any grit in him had paid off. Here was his girl’s pardon and the offer of immunity,
which, as this miracle shimmering with barely dried ink, seemed more substantive than a few moments before.
“And the other, Captain.” Mr Binder prodded.
Elvis flicked the page over and found a rather rumpled and aged one, a case report, stamped by the warden of the prison of Golddust Tennessee, stating the particulars of his arrest for crimes of lust and perversion. He’d never actually read the damn thing, had only heard the court harrang with its usual, elevated language. The document in hand read like a rather sordid novella in which his name appeared with nauseating frequency. He made it halfway down the report when he decided that was quite enough for the outdoor at hand and flicked up a inquiring eye to Mr. Binder.
“Is this one a threat or a gift?” he snarked, swallowing down the sick he felt over revisiting the trip home and the thought that here sat a man in regards to whom Jerry’s cautions would have been best heeded.
“A gift.” Binder assured, as if the damning paper was a pineapple or yo-yo, “What I am keeping behind is your pardon, less salacious for certain but a shockingly terse document with no explanation or hint of a jury. I’m sending men down to Memphis, as we speak, Captain, to go through the papers of your Partner, and for your sake I’m hoping that they find evidence to damn those judges besides that pardon. But trust me, if they don’t, it’ll do. I’ll use it. Unless, of course, you can provide me some aid.”
“I’ve said before,” Elvis made sure to smirk in that sad but winsome way that most found anything but aggravating, “I’ve assured you, Mr Bidner, I am ever at your service.”
“Right then. I’ve three things to ask.”
“Ask them.”
“Firstly, promise on whatever you hold dear that when you return from this…troop maneuver,” Mr Binder made a face at having to mention the odious interruption, “that you will sign on with the Waterways Commitre -don’t worry about your partner objecting, I intended for him to be securely out of influence by the time you make it back down to Memphis.”
“Alright.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Well…swear on something!”
Elvis hesitated, thumbing at the pardon and weighing the chances of all this backfiring terribly. It seemed a better cause to die in, at least. He’d been missing something of that nature for awhile now. “I swear on my mama's grave.”
Mr. Binder took a great, steadying breath that served to make his victory rather unimpressive. Elvis clutched the miraculous pardon to assure himself that the wee fucker before him actually had some serious governmental authority. “Excellent, oh that’s very good, yes, yes alright.” Binder mopped at his eyes again and went on, “The second requirement is quite simple, it’s that you are to make no intimation to Colonel Parker of any such investigation having commenced.”
“Naturally.” Elvis agreed dryly, propping his boot on the desk and getting comfortable, grinning at the thought that Rosey would have really enjoyed being privy to this conversation.
“Parker has already stated he does not intend to make the trip north-“
“-Now hold up -how the hell did he know about this trip before me?”
“He arranged it, Captain, quite plain to see.” Binder sniffed, “I’ve the telegraph logs back home to prove it, if you wish -“
“Sweet Jesus he…” Elvis trailed off, loathe to appear any weaker before Binder by giving away just how little he knew about what went on under his very nose. They were both thinking it, he could tell by the contemplative pity in Binder’s bright blue eyes and the next requirement confirmed it:
“Mr. Moore agrees there been a great deal of uh -embezzling might be the best word for it- going on aboard, every payment you’ve made for the ship-
“-it’s a boat-“
“-has been allocated elsewhere, and is in such a tangle as to confuse anyone looking at it facevalue. You’re about to be out a great deal of money, what with unloading the prostitutes and entertainers-“
“-what now?” Elvis balked.
“The army won’t allow your gambling men, your whores or your band to remain on a government vessel -which the Proud Marie now is until you are released from this commission.”
Elvis bit his nails and wagged his boot atop the desk, grinning venomously at the barer of this new bout of fuckery. “Course.” he gritted out. “Wouldn’t want a buncha bored soldiers to have a way to pass the time while getting shipped up to have their asses handed to them by the natives.”
“I don’t make the rules.” Mr Binder simpered and Elvis wanted to smack the man, see if he’d be into that, too. “But I do suspect you’ll be paying wages for all your offloaded dependents and so, we come back round to the books and the depleted money and I’m saying that something drastic needs to occur so that the Waterways Committee has some security.”
“You want the boat?”
“Oh I wouldn’t be so cruel.” Mr Binder tutted, “I’d like a contract drawn up, signed by yourself and myself and Mr. Moore, perhaps Mr. Cash’s mark would add weight, and the details of it are benevolent -I’ve left it with a fellow to give Mr, Moore, it’s already drawn up- but it would ensure that stupendous half percent that is currently flowing from Parker’s pockets to the gaming tables will, eventually, be the Committee's share.”
“You think you’re real slick, don’t ya. Gonna offer me a deal no better than the last? How bout 40 percent.”
“How about,” Mr Binder put his finger to his pretty little lips and pretended to ponder, “I get you a new boat as this one is, god bless her, hardly staying above water. And uh, 30 percent, with a clause in there for a pension.”
“Who’s pension?” Elvis puzzled.
“You’re wife’s, Captain.” Mr. Binder huffed impatiently, “that extra ten will go to her, in case anything should befall you. Prison or the Colonel, you see I make provisions for innocents, just as you do.”
“I don’t have a wife, Mr. Binder.”
“No? Well, I suggest you make one, speedily, before that contract gets signed, in fact.”
“Make a wife?”
“If God managed it out of a rib, surely Elvis Presley can out of a Purser?” Mr. Binder was growing a bit giddy in his success and Elvis had to close his eyes and recall the fellow’s tear stained humiliation last night in order to press on.
“This is gonna serve what purpose?”
“Mr. Moore suggested that as things are, it’s all a muddle, and trying to untangle your affairs from Parker’s -including who owns the boat- would be hopeless. If taken to trial, the jury would vote for the wife. Parker hasn’t got one, but you, you would have one by then wouldn't you?” Binder seemed to have some second sense that this morning had been hellish and that pressing the point before breakfast was an easy way to make the Captain break.
“You’re suggesting I enter and pervert a sacred institution in order to save some money?” Elvis bit out.
“Wouldn’t be the first time you bent such a thing to your will, would it?” Binder sniffed then flinched as Elvis rose to his feet with uncanny speed and charged him, fists clenched, “And think, sir,” he aimed for respect as Elvis stood there ready to inflict pain, “Miss Beaumont would not only be provided for, she would also make certain that the half allocated to her would support your dependents. Say you were arrested, say the malaria catches up to you, say you get shot for being a bastard,” Mr Binder smiled almost fondly at that, “she and your dependents would have your money. If you can’t trust her, if what I thought I saw between you last night was not all theater, or perhaps one of your mulatto women will do.”
“You’ve been talking with Jerry and Moore, haven’t you?” Elvis muttered, fists slowly uncurling.
“Ah, yes.” Mr Binder had the goodness to look abashed, but that was more likely brought on by the ominous way Elvis was still standing over him, barely pacified, “And Sister Rosetta, that’s your uh, uh”
“Quartermaster.”
“Yes, her!” Binder agreed, “It would seem there is a benevolent mutiny aboard, Captain. And if your conscience smites you for turning in Parker to his just desserts, I suggest you tell it to consider the well being of your crew?”
“And the well being of your pockets.” Elvis pointed out.
“My goal, Captain, is to do so excellent a job in the position afforded me on this godforsaken river that when President Grant’s dismal excuse for a term runs out and the great reshuffling begins, -no fault will be found with me. Or those under me. And not for one single minute will the Bureaucrats think to relieve me of my post and return me east to the shadow of my father and the arms of a wife I cannot stand. Do you hear me now? And I’m offering you a chance to not get culled with the chaff.”
“Has anyone else’s boat been requisitioned, Mr. Binder?” Elvis asked, quietly and in a tone Binder could not decipher.
“Well, no one else asked to be used.” he laughed at last, “But I’m sure someone else’s will be as yours alone is not sufficiently large.”
“Then may I ask you a favor of my own, Mr. Binder?” Elvis ventured from beneath fluttering lashes.
“Uh, yes, of course, if it’s in my power.”
“Mmm, sounds like just about anythin is in your power, sir.” Elvis intoned alluringly, slinking to a crouch beside the arm of Binder’s chair, much to that official's shivering foreboding, “Is there any way you could manage to purloin Captain Jones’ boat as well?” he asked, voice going soft and high, sounding about as young and harmless as a child.
“What are you up to?” Binder asked, warily taking in the elegant hands clasped atop his chair arm and the alluring v of the Captain’s squat and the calculated harmlessness that the man, well past thirty, was swathing himself in, to an alarmingly successful effect.
“I-I just thought…” Elvis trailed off as if bashful of his thoughts.
“What did you think?” Binder demanded with outraged morality, about to flee from the scene of his second, imminent ruination and this terrifying, forever morphing creature squatted before him. “What did you think, Captain?”
“Well, t-t-there’s no need for all that, sir,” Captain Presley’s soulful eyes looked wounded and his cherubic lips, highlighted by the no doubt calculated slant of those damned sideburns, wobbled in hurt, “I-I just thought maybe Jones an’ me could have a lil race up the river while we’re at it, just a teaser of sorts.” He confessed, bashfully looking down at his hands and shrugging his shoulders in the manner of the forever falsely accused.
“God damn you to hell, Presley.” Binder seethed through his own mirth as Elvis’ shoulders began to shake up and down in something besides pantomimed hurt. Eventually both men were laughing, the act abandoned, one perhaps more uproariously than the other, but there was humor found at last. Captain Presley also rose to his feet, by some merciful intervention of a loving God looking out for Mr. Binder’s soul.
“You know.” Binder huffed when some sobriety had been regained, “The whole world isn’t full of dogs and bitches, there’s no need for this whole…whatever it is, you do.”
“Don’t you ever just do something for the fun of it, Binder?”
“Yes, occasionally,” Binder rejoined, “Do you?”
“Yeah,” Elvis got a fond look of reminiscence which suggested it had been awhile, “I race riverboats and charge the extra coal to the colonel’s account.”
“I’ll see to it that Captain Jones’ coal is charged similarly.” Binder smirked and Elvis felt the first taste of genuine like for this man, “Although Parker’s assets may be frozen due to imprisonment by that time.” he quipped, “Best to transfer the rest of the funds to a Mrs. Presley lest they take the brunt of such expenditures.”
“I’m hearin you.” the mirth had gone right out of the Captain's voice, “Can I not just sign it to my father?”
“What? With him in prison, too? Be sensible, Captain. It’s either a wife or child. Wait -have you got a child?”
“No.” Elvis could finally say that with certainty thanks to Rosey’s report. Maddy’s son was not his.
“Shocking.” Binder teased and Elvis might have been in the mood to laugh were he not contemplating marrying a woman who he thought was a different woman twelve hours before. “Invite me to the wedding won’t you? I was thinking this evening would be best, I’ll even ensure the Colonel is on the noon train down to Memphis so as not to meddle.”
“I ain’t gonna make this a church weddin.” Elvis insisted.
“Well, alright, easier in court anyway.” Binder shrugged, watching Presley’s sullen demeanor curiously, “I had thought such a thing was already imminent between you two-“
“Is that all, Mr. Binder?” Captain Presley cut in.
“Until this evening and the contract, yes, I suppose so.” Binder rose, sensing his blatant dismissal, “I’ll arrange the Colonel’s ticket and uh, meet you at the courthouse, yes?”
“I’ll send word if that particular endeavor is on.” Elvis parlayed.
“Oh it had better be, sir.” Binder reiterated, earnestly. “Or you and she will be wiped clean of funds, and my efforts for that pardon will be as nothing.”
“I’m hearin you, Mr. Binder.” it was a wonder that so ominous a voice, like an earthquake or the rush of an elemental force, could have affected brainless innocence so capably a few moments ago. Binder’s brain and other organs were confused by the change, but that was becoming a familiar feeling when in Captain Presley’s presence.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Mr. Binder muttered, at a loss as to how to conclude one of the most eventful interviews of his life when his opponent (or was it ally?) had his back to him, staring out the window with soulless eyes.
Binder let himself out.
Captain Presley followed shortly after, his steamrolling gait bound for the mess hall and a long overdue breakfast.
“Captain!” Calhoun waylaid him right in front of the mess hall doors, right where he could smell the scent of bacon and eggs and his sought after sanity.
“Lemme guess, you wanna complain ‘bout the Colonel ta me.” he slurred exhaustedly while dragging the boy along from where he hung on his jacket sleeve.
“Matter o fact, ye-“
“Take a number, boy.” he sighed, pushing open the doors to the mess and vowing to eat something before he heard another word spoken in English or otherwise about his benevolent partner.
I’ve made the following one time taglist for those of you who used to like and comment and enjoy this work on my previous, deactivated blog. I thought I’d alert y’all that this project is still ongoing, I’m still ticking and there’s new chapters if you have any interest. Cheers and all the love 💋 ~Marina/@aconflagrationofmyown
@tacozebra051
@notstefaniepresley
@tyne18
@horror-movieshoes
@lillypink
@blurredcolour
@bisexualwatson
@j-v-9-2
@pearlparty
@crash-and-cure
@dkayfixates
@woundmetender
@captainthisamerica
@eliseinmemphis
@lindszepplin
@foreverdolly
@ab4eva
@jelliedonut
@powerofelvis
@thatbanditqueen
@lookingforrainbows
@vintageworld
@robinismywife
@from-memphis-with-love
@steph-speaks
@avengen
@butlersxbirdy
@ash-omalley
@eliseinmemphis
@stylespresleyhearted
@missmaywemeetagain
@prompted-wordsmith
@whositmcwhatsit
@snowf86
@vinnvered
@butlervol6
@artlover8992
@coolgirl462
@cigaretess
#elvis fanfiction#mine#a whole man is hard to find#elvis imagine#elvis fanfic#elvis presley#elvis x reader#elvis x you#elvis smut#austin butler elvis#austin elvis fandom#austin elvis x reader#southern gothic
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Hey Mila. I was wondering what is your favorite type of fanfic to write. And what is your favorite fanfic you read this year? Have a great day and take care of yourself and stay hydrated. 🖤
omg these are such hard questions! i think my favorite type of fanfic to write is either smut (like the soft, sensual stuff) or fluff! i kinda hate writing angst and i don't think i'm very good at it tbh 💀 so that's my least favorite
and for the fanfics i've read this year, omg i've read so many and this fandom has published sooo many good ones this year 😩 but some just from the top of my head:
Guitar Man - Steve Binder - Sage (@sagesolsticewrites), Sage just gets me and all of her fics are truly *chef's kiss
Freckles (M) - Austin Butler - Ana (@floralcyanide), I requested this one and I just...it's so so beautiful
Ruin You (M) - Austin Butler - Jackie @mamaspresley - I vividly remember reading this and having to literally stop to blush
Diner Date - Austin Butler - Sage (again hehe), What more can I say, Sagey you never miss darling
Heart's Got Teeth (M) - Vampire!Austin Butler - Ally (@elvisabutler), This legit got me hooked on vamp!Aus and the smut was 🔥 as usual
strongly recommend reading these and all the other word these authors have published!
#answered#fic recs#if i didn't mention you pls don't take it personally there were so many these are just the ones i remembered immediately!
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I posted 197 times in 2022
That's 197 more posts than 2021!
28 posts created (14%)
169 posts reblogged (86%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@karamelcoveredolicity
@troubleinapinksuit
@sagesolsticewrites
@p-oolshark
@powerofelvis
I tagged 31 of my posts in 2022
#elvis presley - 29 posts
#elvis presley fanfiction - 26 posts
#elvis x reader - 25 posts
#austin elvis x reader - 22 posts
#elvis fluff - 22 posts
#elvis fanfic - 20 posts
#anything for you darlin - 20 posts
#dad!elvis - 20 posts
#elvis smut - 20 posts
#austin elvis smut - 18 posts
Longest Tag: 29 characters
#thank you thank you very much
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Anything for You, Darlin’
- - -
Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader (can be Austin!Elvis if you prefer)
Word Count: 738 words
Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of the Colonel, Teasing of Smut, Language
Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Thanks for all you love you have shown this series! I’ll be busy this weekend so I will try to upload another chapter or two.
- - -
Chapter 5
June 1968
Things were definitely looking up for Elvis. Filming began for the Christmas Special, which you and him knew there was no way in hell it was gonna be a Christmas Special. Ever since little Mallory was born, Elvis had a fire lit underneath him. He wanted make something she would be proud of. He demanded that you and Mallory would be filming the whole time, against the Colonel’s wishes.
You had to admit, seeing Elvis in that black leather suit made you crazy for him. It made you want him even more than you already did.
“Elvis, I don’t know if I told you this already, but you are sexy as hell in that black leather,” you said to him as you kissed him all over his face.
“Darlin, I can see it on your face,” Elvis replied back while also blushing. He knew he had you in the palm on his hand. “(Y/N, baby, you look sexy as hell too, I mean just look at you lil mama.” The kisses began flying, but before anything could begin, Mallory woke up crying.
Both of you jumped and ran over to her, and you scooped her up in her arms. “Mallory, what’s wrong baby?,” you cooed to her while Elvis watched with concern and love in his eyes. Elvis loved his girls more than life itself. Everything he did, he did it for you and Mallory. As soon as you changed her, Elvis picked her up to soothe her.
“Hey there princess there’s no need for all this cryin’ daddy’s got you,” Elvis said to her lovingly and gently. It was like he could read her little mind because she almost instantly calmed down. Mallory Love Presley was your whole world, but she was also a daddy’s girl. She had him wrapped around her pretty little finger since the day she was born.
“Elvis stage in five minutes,” Steve Binder called out. Steve Binder and Bones Howe were the masterminds behind the special. Binder knew Elvis wanted more than just a “Christmas special”. This was do or die or Elvis’ career.
“Alright I’m ready,” Elvis called out. He looked at you holding little Mallory and walked over to kiss you both. “This is all for you two, my baby girls. I love ya,” he said to you and Mallory. The three of you walked out to the stage area where you and Mallory were seated next to Jerry. Filming began and once again, lightening had struck. You saw Elvis in his full glory performing like there was no tomorrow. Smiling, laughing like he did back in his early days. Every chance that man got, he was looking over at his girls.
December 3, 1968
When the ‘68 Comeback Special aired, the whole Presley household was watching. No one could say a word. The room was so quiet. Elvis’ leg was bouncing like crazy while you tried to settle his nerves. Of course, that’s when Mallory started to cry, so you went upstairs to get her. You brought her down so you didn’t miss a second of it.
“Come here little darlin’ daddy needs ya,” Elvis cooed to Mallory. She was truly a daddy’s girl. He could get her to calm down and vice versa. When the special ended, she was asleep in his arms and that’s when it hit you all at once: Mallory Love Presley was turning one in three weeks. Tears starting streaming down your face. Elvis looked to you when he heard you sniffling.
“Doll, are you ok? What’s wrong mama?” He asked while wiping away the tears. “Elvis….. she’s turning one in three weeks… our ba..ba..baby girl is growing up,” was all you managed to get out before you really started crying.
“Aw (Y/N) I know. It’s ok lil mama, let’s get my girls up to bed,” Elvis said. First Elvis went upstairs with Mallory to put her to bed, then he come back down to get you. He scooped you up in his arms and held you close to him while walking up the stairs. For the rest of the night, he held you close and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until you fell asleep. Not much longer after that he fell asleep with you. This was what he dreamed of: the perfect wife and family. Little did he know, life was getting ready to change again.
131 notes - Posted October 28, 2022
#4
Anything for You, Darlin'
- - -
Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader (can be Austin!Elvis if you prefer)
Word Count: 651 words
Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of child birth, Language (let me know if I miss anything)
- - -
Chapter 4
December 24, 1967
Back in your private suite, you finally rested while Elvis held baby Mallory. It was safe to say he was wrapped around her pretty little finger just like he was with you.
“Hey little darlin’ god you look your mama’s twin,” Elvis said to her softly, “you know princess, no one is ever gonna hurt in this world I promise you that. You and your mama are my girls and I’m gonna do everything I can to protect you two.”
Elvis looked over at you fast asleep in bed and then back at her. In his mind, you and Mallory were both sent from heaven and her birth date confirmed it for him. Christmas Eve. The most wonderful time of the year just got a little more wonderful.
It was around 4AM when you were awaken by Mallory’s crying. Elvis handed her over you and you fed her for the very first time. You were already a pro at everything involving baby Mallory. After you fed and burped her, you couldn’t help but to tear up when you looked into her little baby blue eyes
“Elvis, I just wanna say thank you”
“(Y/N) why are you thanking me. I need to thank you. For giving birth to our daughter. For never giving up on me. For loving me.”
And he was right. You never gave up on him; the proof of that was in your arms fast asleep. Elvis kissed her little head and then kissed you. In that moment you knew that you had made the all the right choices in your life to lead you to hear.
With Elvis. With Mallory.
Of course, Elvis called Vernon first to tell him the news of Mallory’s birth. Then Jerry, Red & Sonny West, the rest of the Memphis Mafia and eventually the Colonel. You were still on cloud nine along with Elvis. Mallory wasn’t even a whole day old yet she has already made an impact on your lives.
December 25, 1967
It was Christmas Day. You and baby Mallory finally got to go home. It was perfect. Elvis drove home so slowly compared to only two days before driving like a maniac. When you got home, everyone was there waiting on you. Elvis hurried up and opened your door with a big smile and proclaimed, “Everyone meet the newest Presley. Little miss Mallory Love Presley!”
You blushed and he took the chance to kiss you right on the mouth. Mallory was sound asleep so she had not a clue to the commotion. You finally got inside and that’s when you realized something: Mallory was gonna be spoiled rotten. She already had gifts around the tree. Her little stocking was already full now, probably thanks to Jerry, her godfather.
“Merry Christmas baby,” Elvis said in his true southern gentleman voice. Elvis took Mallory while you sat down on the couch trying to get comfortable. Sure you were still in some pain, but you didn’t care. You loved Christmas almost as much as you loved Elvis and you wanted it to be as normal as possible.
Of course Elvis had the home cameras going. It was magical, the lights on the tree twinkled. Laughter and smiles all filled Graceland. The Memphis Mafia got their turns in holding Mallory, the newest heir to the Presley family. Everyone said the same thing: she was your twin.
After everyone left, it was the three of you. Elvis shut the door and then scooped up Mallory from your arms into his. “How was that for your first Christmas baby girl?,” he cooed to her, sleeping away.
“I think she loved it babe,” you replied back to him,” thank you for everything E.P. I love you.”
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151 notes - Posted October 27, 2022
#3
Hi everyone!!! I’ve finally built up the courage to post my first Elvis fan fic. It’s a series I’m still working on, but here is part one! Please let me know if there is anything I can work on/improve.
Anything for You, Darlin’
Chapter One
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Pairing - Elvis Presley x Reader (can be Austin!Elvis if you prefer)
Word Count: 447
Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Smut (please let me know if I miss anything)
- - - -
April 16, 1966
You still couldn’t believe it. You were actually Mrs. Elvis Presley. Who would have believe Elvis would chose you, out of all the girls in world, to be his wife? He loved and adored you. He treated you like a queen, waited on you hand and foot, and would give anything to make you happy.
While on your honeymoon in Hawaii, it was just you and him. No Memphis Mafia, no family, no paparazzi. Just you and him. Husband and wife. Your first morning together was magical, just watching sleep was beautiful. His black hair somehow perfect even in his sleep. His perfect jawline that led to his face. Everything about him was perfect.
When he woke up, he looked at you with his dreamy blue eyes and said, “Good morning (Y/N), or should I say Mrs. Elvis Presley?” You smiled at him and kissed him right on the lips. Both of you got up, had breakfast and cuddled up on couch. Elvis just knew you loved being in his arms because you felt safe and loved. He knew your past of not feeling like you were ever enough for your parents and the rest of your family. He knew every little goal you had in life, including getting married and becoming a mother. He loved you, for you.
“Now (Y/N), you know we don’t have a lot of time on this honeymoon due to the Colonel,” Elvis said with pure annoyance and eye rolling, “So let’s make this special while we can and make some of our wishes come true.” By the way he was looking at you with that classic Elvis smirk you exactly what he meant by that. “Wait? You wanna start trying for a baby now? The Colonel won’t like that,” you replied to him with shock and surprise. He looked back at you and said, “Well then fuck him. I know you want to be a mother more than anything and I’m willing to do anything for you, darlin’”
The tears starting to form in eyes. You couldn’t believe it. This man was willing to risk it all to make your dreams for you. So you two didn’t waste anytime going back to the master bedroom.
After the honeymoon, it was back off to Hollywood to film the latest movie that Elvis didn’t want to do, but was under contract to do. He made sure to make him for you, his queen whenever he could. He showed you off to the whole world proclaiming, “This is my better half, Mrs. (Y/N) Presley.” You were his world, and you knew it. Life was perfect for you two. Heaven on earth.
154 notes - Posted October 25, 2022
#2
Anything for You, Darlin’
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Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader (can be Austin!Elvis if you prefer)
Word Count: 1,236 words
Warnings: Fluff, Puking, Pregnancy, Language (let me know if I miss anything)
Author’s Note: Thank you so much for all the love you gave chapter one!! I hope you continue to love this because this is gonna be a long one!
- - -
Chapter 2
March 1967
It was almost a year since you and Elvis became one. You two had become the it couple of Hollywood, Memphis and across the entire country. Everyone loved you two together. Of course, you two were still trying on and off for a baby, but decided that if it was meant it be, it would happen sooner rather than later. Elvis was still filming three movies a year in Hollywood, something he was becoming bored of.
After filming for “Easy Come, Easy Go” ended, it was back to Graceland. For you, Graceland was so much more than a mansion. It was home, your safe place and the turning of a new chapter of your life.
This time when your feet hit the pavement of Graceland, something felt different. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you had the feeling that big changes were coming your way. Maybe he felt that way too because Elvis looked at you with his blue eyes and said, “Baby doll, I gotta a feeling that we weren’t gonna be alone for much longer.” You look at him and say, “Elvis. Jerry and them won’t be here at least for another day or so since we left early.” But quickly, you knew that wasn’t what he meant.
“(Y/N), I don’t mean them,” Elvis said with a certain tone in his voice, “I’ve noticed you’ve been getting sick here lately and that’s not like you doll.” He was right. You never got sick, you were one of the healthiest people he knew on this earth. At first, you both assumed it was the travels making you sick since you never been more than two hours from home before you met Elvis.
Hours went by after that conversation. You saw Elvis fast asleep in your king sized bed, snoring lightly so you decided to do something you knew needed to be done while he was deep in slumber. You knew you needed to take a pregnancy test to rule that out before he dragged you to the doctor. You found the unopened box in the bathroom and took it. Quietly pacing, you waited for those results to come, which seemed to take an eternity to you, but was actually only minutes. “Come on, (Y/N),” you muttered to yourself, “you can do this.” You finally muster the courage to look at the test. What you saw shocked you.
Two baby pink lines.
It hit you all at once like a ton of bricks. You didn’t know how to feel. You clung to the test with you left hand as you slid down the bathroom wall. You were too focused on your feelings to realized that Elvis had woken up from his slumber to make his way to the bathroom.
“(Y/N), why the hell aren’t you in bed yet?It’s past midnight, doll,” he muttered still half asleep, “you need to get your sleep princess.” When he saw what was in your hand, he woke up and got on the floor next to you. “Is that what I think it is? You.. you’re pregnant?” Elvis said in the most concerned and shocked way possible. You thought for a second he was mad so you began crying.
“Yes, I guess I am. I know it’s not the best timing I’m sorry Elvis,” you said to him with tears in your eyes.
“Baby doll this is nothing to be sorry about,” Elvis said almost shocked, “our dreams are coming true.” He held you there in his arms while you both cried tears of happiness. After a few minutes, he carried you to bed and you both fell asleep in each other’s arms knowing that your gut feelings were right. Life was about to change forever in the best way possible.
June 1967
You and Elvis waited for what seemed like forever to tell your closest friends and family the news: a little Presley was on the way. The Memphis Mafia was happy for you both. Vernon was excited to have his first grandchild. The damn Colonel seemed hesitant at first, but eventually came around. Then, the news got out to the whole world that the king was finally getting a heir. Life was about to get chaotic, but it would be worth it.
September 1967
The nursery was all set up for baby Presley even though you weren’t due for another three months. Elvis was in overprotective mode of you as if he wasn’t already before. He didn’t want you bending over, lifting anything, etc.
Every time you tried to, he would look at you and say, “Now (Y/N), how many have I told you not to do that?! Neither you or little munchkin here need to be getting hurt.” Munchkin was one of the few names he had given to the baby. You would almost death glare him for trying to tame your stubbornness, but at the end of the day, how the fuck could you stay mad at him? “Elvis I know baby, but we don’t get much time left,” you would always say to him. Hell it was already September and it seemed like yesterday you just found out you were pregnant.
Neither one of you wanted to find out what baby Presley was until the time that he or she was born. Of course, it seemed that almost everyone thought it was gonna be a boy. Deep down however, you wanted it to be a little baby girl. You had always wanted to have a girl as your first child since you were thirteen. You told Elvis that you would be happy no matter what, and he believed you. He also heard your reasons why you wanted a baby girl first.
You wanted to prove to your “blood family” and yourself that you could raise a daughter better than they raised you. Treat her with love and respect. Elvis knew your life story and he knew and promised you that there was no way in hell that history would repeat itself with your kids.
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171 notes - Posted October 26, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Anything for You, Darlin’
- - -
Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader (can be Austin!Elvis if you prefer)
Word Count: 1,052 words
Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy, Child birth, mentions of the Colonel, the Colonel being an asshole, language, yelling (let me know if I miss anything)
Author’s Note: Thank you again for all the love you’ve shown this series so far! My plan is to upload two chapters today so stayed tuned!
- - -
Chapter 3
December 1967
Finally it was your favorite time of year, Christmas. Graceland was all decorated with lights, wreaths, the Navity scene outside and so much more. The stocking were hung inside with everyone’s name on them, one of your personal touches. This year, a tiny little red stocking was a reminder of something great: It was also close to time for baby Presley to make their arrival. You wanted a Christmas baby while Elvis just wanted the baby to get here before the new year came. The bags were packed and placed by the door in case of a moments notice. You and Elvis were ready.
December 23, 1967
Two days before Christmas. You were excited, but miserable. You wanted this baby out now. Your back hurt, nothing fit right the list went on. Elvis and the Colonel got into another yelling match about him wanting Elvis to go start production on another movie right after Christmas.
“Now Elvis my boy…, we have contracts to hold up. They won’t like it if we don’t hold up…. our end of the deal,” the Colonel said as if he completely neglected to look at the situation.
“There ain’t no way in hell I’m leaving (Y/N) here by herself! She’s having my baby for God’s sake…… they will fucking understand!,” Elvis shouted back.
You had heard Elvis yell many times, some of those occasions you were the recipient of. However, this was different. He was being defiant, finally standing up for himself, you, and his family. After the Colonel left, he went upstairs to your bedroom. He saw you on the bed hiding your face in the pillows to hide the tears. He was concerned so he sat next to you.
“Baby…… he’s gone. You don’t have to worry about me leaving you. I love you too damn much,” he said to you hoping you would lift your head up. “Now (Y/N), please let me see your little face, doll,” Elvis said to you. You slowly sat up and clang onto him.
“Elvis, I’m proud of you. You finally told him off it’s about fucking time,” you said to him with a chuckle. “Anything for you, doll,” Elvis said as he kissed you on the lips. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. “I’m leaving the door open. Holler if you need me!” Elvis called out as he walked away. Just as he turned the water facet turned off, the worst pain in your life shot up your back. You yelped in pain and looked down: your water had broke. You were about to cry again.
“E.P!! Elvis!,” you yelled at him. He came running to you with the frantic look in his eyes.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked you
“I…i..I.. I think my water just broke,” you said to him softly.
He held your face in his hands for a moment just to silently reassure you that everything was going to be ok. He helped you get dressed and carried you down the stairs. Still in his pajamas himself, he grabbed the bags, called Jerry and a few others of the mafia and took you to the hospital. He was driving so fast you told him to slow down at least ten times.
You finally got to the hospital at around 11:30PM. Elvis carried you in and demanded a wheelchair and room. You tried to quiet him down, but there was no point. Elvis was nervous and scared for you and the baby. Nurses brought the wheelchair along with the clipboard with paperwork which seemed ten miles long. Everything seemed to happened so fast with him wheeling you up to the maternity ward.
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281 notes - Posted October 27, 2022
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So,SO tempted to make a Steve binder x male reader,because I’ve seen NONE and he’s fine asf,what do ye think?I have seen 0 fanfics abt him-
Idk I’ve only seen a few edits of him so maybe I’m missing something but-
#Steve binder#elvis movie#elvis presley#Steve#binder#Steve binder x reader#Steve binder x Gn reader#Steve binder x male reader#tumbleweedbee
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Hey Kay! I was wondering... I'm thinking of writing a Byler fic. Is there anything that's missing from the current fic library that you think would be good to see, in terms of tropes, characterisation, things to explore, etc? I would also appreciate hearing from your followers. Just any ideas that people would like to see in a fic.
yeah sure ...
1)We need more povs from Mike’s perspective. (Almost all are from Will’s pov - let’s mix it up sometimes)
Mike in canon is the pinning-gay -(overly romantic) whipped one , but we never see it. And he’s pretty much never written this way! Mike in s3 has 6 drawings from Will on his wall (he kept them up since s1-for years- despite replacing the poster on the same wall). Has even caressed extra drawings of Will’s that he’s kept in his binder. In s1 wrote a whole story for Will about defeating a monster and giving the king it’s 7 heads (cause Will rolled a 7 when the demogorgan attacked him.) And as a Star Wars fan he had his own character be given a medal by the king (like how leia gave the medal to Han for his heroism.) He attacked people for insulting Will. Literally hates apologizing -but is quick to do so for Will . Boy ran in the pouring rain twice for Will- disobeying cops, the government, and his parents to do so. He initiates every byler moment (arm thing, hand touch, ‘best thing i’ve ever done’, ‘crazy together, right?’, always asking Will “what’s wrong?” or “are you ok?” etc). And was upset at Will dancing with a girl + insecure about Will replacing him -after he moves away.
-but 90% of byler fanfics (don’t get me wrong some are good) are from Will’s pinning perspective. Also do people realize Mike is clearly the more romantic/ emotional open of the 2 while Will is clearly the more emotionally closed off/aloof one? He loves Mike too- but he’s def less obvious about his feelings- based on how he behaves. Will rarely opens up to people (Mike being an exception). But, it’s never written that way (usually it’s the opposite).
2) as a gay women all the reductive stereotypes annoy me. it’s obvious when fic writers try to have the gay romance be modeled after het romance- and try to make one into the ‘girl’/ ‘guy’. Duffers don’t stereotype Mike or Will but a lot of fanfiction writers do in order to make the gay romance resemble a straight one more (canon character traits, be dammed). Please, stop pushing heterosexual dynamics on gay and lesbian couples and trying to make one “the girl” and “the guy”. It’s very offensive and innaccurate.
Because he’s taller and most people head canon him as bi they make Mike a jock (despite in canon having horrible aim and not being able to run as fast as the rest of the gang). And Will (since most see him as gay) is weak/ sucks at sports compared to mike...despite knowing how to use a bat, shoot a gun, and being able to tear castle byers apart with his bare hands . Also nothing in canon shows Will likes to wear makeup and dress in drag (but it’s a constant thing that i’ve heard come up or heard others mention). It would be fine if he wanted to express himself in such a way. And if it only came up in an occasional fic it wouldn’t be a big deal. But it’s such a common theme that comes up (despite no canon evidence) that in most cases it just screams ‘straight writers trying to make Will into “the girl”’. Not to mention the huge emphasis of their height difference (shows this too). It can get annoying calling him “short” & “petite” (a term used for women) when will isn’t even the shortest guy member- and now his actor is way taller than gaten (dustin) a bit taller (I think?) than caleb (Lucas) and barely shorter than finn (Mike’s actor). But writers even in future fics write him as short...ok? ya’ll really can’t let go of making Will “the girl.” Cause ya’ll incorrectly equate shortness to femminity. It’s tiring. Some writers straight up say he’s “pretty “, “feminine” or “looks like a girl” 🙄
3) it’s not byler if it’s unrequited- stop tagging it as such
4) more emphasis on Will’s passions(art, writing, horror movies). Maybe in his upbringing with Lonnie.And jon being a good bro to him. Will’s Mental health issues maybe ?
5) mike is a socially awkward, clumsy, unathletic, (caring) science/sci-fi /D&D loving nerd. In au whatever- but mike is not a bro-y jock, or a cool bad boy. 😂 plus , more writer mike would be nice to see
6) headcanon him all you want -but at this point it’s pretty obvious (to me at least) Mike never loved el,and was just lying/confused/ projecting Will on her. And El is/was also confused and never loved mike. so it would be nicer to see that instead of Mike just ‘falling out of love’ with her. Mike is gay. people say in s3 Will saying “a day free of girls” is gay coded but everyone ignores Mike in s3 saying “BOYS ONLY”. same energy. writers even threw in a telemarketing joke so Mike says in s3 “El? no. sorry not interested.” And Mike has more rainbow refs than Will. Boy is clearly gay not bi (way too much evidence to talk about here) . They even compare mileven to ted/karen who “never loved each other.” The writers make fun of mileven constantly and say over and over it’s not actually romantic - (if you choose to read just 1 link read this one and get with the program) . plus, most Bi dudes wouldn’t stop being attracted to a girl the more fem she gets (and only be attracted to her when she looks like a “guy”(specifically their guy friend).which yes the characters in s1 said over and over again that El looked like a “boy”/“will”. And then they have him Makeout with her while putting up a drawing of said male bff on the wall (cause now she looks less like him) and so he needs to look at said bro, to stomach the makeout seshes/ and in an effort to transfer said romantic feelings from guy friend to gf. Then push his gf’s hands off himself during the kisses- sing to stop kissing, and kiss to mostly show off how straight he is. And without said pic- not kiss back and just keep his eyes open and not reciprocate. Nor would they have Mike equate het romance to something he thinks he has to do as a part of growing up . Bi dudes consider falling for a girl as simply romance not a foreign idea that has to be done cause there’s no other option and that’s ‘just what old people do’. Mike claims el is the only girl he’s ever had feelings for - but like dustin said mileven is “bullshit “ (stancy parallel -where nancy was not in love but faking it). So mike’s never been into a girl and is also into Will... so...
7) it’s the 80s they can’t just be open/ have pda in public (you could have gotten k*lled or beaten severely.) And most of their friends/fam would not take it well initially. (I think jon, Karen , and steve/robin would take it well... but not most of the crew.) although they’d all prob come around eventually . -Takes me out of a fic to have such historical revisionism when everyone is just totally fine with byler and they’re out to the public/strangers.
but that’s just me. What about you guys?
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Re: fanfiction questions post. Got any answers for 3, 14, 28, 39, and/or 50?
Boy do I
3. What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in?
I’d love ot say Homestuck, but as special and formative as it was for me, Homestuck won’t be winning any “Best Fandom” awards, like, ever.
The communities I’ve joined for FFXV though are some of the chillest, funniest, and easygoing folk I’ve ever encountered in fandom.
14. Go on, who are your BroTPs?
Steve&Bucky forever. Steve&Bucky& the Commandos, especially. I miss them daily.
Noctis & the chocobros, all day every day.
Kaladan & Shallan, from Stormlight. They bonded over puns and could get up to so much mischief together if Kaladin weren't so high strung.
28. If someone were to draw a piece of fanart for your story, which story would it be and what would the picture be of?
Ohh I do have some frog-status crack in the works that I toadally want to commission art for if/when it’s done.
Otherwise, when I get back to it, I hope “Nocits Accidentally becomes Captain of The Kingsglaive” gets enough attention to spark some fanart. I would cry, die, and then resurrect myself and forgo sleep and water to speed write the rest of the fic to show that artist the depths of my appreciation ;0; I’d hope for some Noctis&Nyx interactions, because they will be very good friends.
But, if it must be a published work, the Zaerith drabbles I did have some real cute moments in them that I would also die to see drawn. Wishing on flowers, or maybe conspiring in the garden.
39. What is your greatest strength as a writer?
I’m not self-aware enough of my abilities to answer this x3′’. I can say that I love to sneak in headcanons and worldbuilding, and being able to work characters into using their settings.
50. How did you get into reading and/or writing fanfiction?
I started reading fanfic because my BFF would send me Harry Potter crack fic she’d found on Deviantart to read. I quickly learned that I hated reading long swaths of text on computer screens, and that I didn't care at all about Harry Potter. We soon co-wrote our own Kingdom Hearts crack fic (by passing a spiralbound notebook back and forth at church activities,) which I do believe is still out there in the depths of deviantart, where I hope it remains buried for all of time.
Timeline gets blurry after that, but I remember reading and writing Twilight fic on FFN, definitely in middle school. I vaguely recall printing out fic to read in high school, scouring the pre ao3 internet for any flavor of Blood and Chocolate fic.
I was writing my Cyborg 009 self insert epic in High School, but quit when my only ficc’ish friend refused to read it (BFF had moved states years ago). We also co-write Hellsing fic together, upgrading to a 3 ring binder of looseleaf paper that we passed back and forth in geometry. At some point I also had Pern fic churning around in my notebooks, but ficcish friend’s rejection really hurt my feelings and miiiight be the source of why I struggle to show off anything I write, now that i'm thinking about it, and so in notebooks it stayed.
(I also got to write fic as a creative fiction assignment as a freshman, it was glorious.)
Anyway then I got super depressed and read “real books” in the way normal healthy folk drink water (Like, I took Wheel of Time down, one book per week or less) until i got entrenched in Homestuck and started reading and writing fic again in 2011/12 ish
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I was watching the latest Good Content show (it’s the formally unnamed show) by the Grumps and they were using this auto-completing text thing in order to make fanfiction. Sonic fanfiction.
Aside from the Sonic fanfics, I thought... wow, this seems pretty cool so I decided to give it a whirl myself.
I’m just going to have like, five snippets of random sentences I’ve thrown in there of my own making and see how it turns out. I can’t guarantee that they’ll make sense but maybe something will. Bold is what I had input--the rest is what was auto-completed for me.
1. Dot, Jon, and Damian had planned for an eventful outing. But a superhero's work is never done and sometimes, there is no time for rest and recreation.
Just as Dot was about to serve the boys a piece of pie while sitting on their checkered picnic blanket, an explosion sounded off in the east.
Jon and Damian looked at Dot and then at each other.
"Oh-oh, that sounds bad." Jon said. "Who's behind that?
"Damian looked at Dot, who was already on the phone.
"Well, I guess it's time to come clean. You see, I am, in fact, the Flash."
Dot held up a hand, shaking her head.
"You're the Flash?" she asked, confused. "You've never been here?"
"I can't remember ever being here. It's all a blur, now. It's like the past."
"It's really quite incredible, actually." Dot said.
"So why are you calling now?" Damian asked.
"It's an emergency, and you're too late."
"I was in the midst of trying to save the world and then all of a sudden you were there."
As you can see, this got confusing as fuck, really fast. But! I loved the part where Damian looked over at Dot and she was already on the phone like that fucking meme.
2. Dot stopped in the doorway, hearing loud singing from Cooper and Beau. When she peered inside the room, she saw that they both had their arms around each other and were shouting--
"DO YOU COME FROM A LAND DOWN UNDER?"
It appeared they had gotten into Pop's very strong alcohol cabinet. She opened the door and, as she had done so many times before, stepped in to try and calm them. The alcohol would not calm them.
"What's wrong, you two? Is it hot in there?"
It took them all of thirty seconds to figure out the answer.
"No, it's nothing," said one of the young men. "It's not hot. It's cold."
"We thought it would be nice to have a good old-fashioned ice cream party, so we went over to Pop's."
I don’t even know where to begin with this.
3. Dot stood in-between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. In her hand, she had a list of all the items they would need to survive a trip to the moon.
She discovered that to survive a trip to the moon, it was essential to pack:
– 3,000 kg (6,624 lbs) of space supplies
– 2,000 kg (3,264 lbs) of liquid oxygen
– 1,000 kg (2,838 lbs) of food
– 1,000 kg (2,838 lbs) of water
– 400 grams (12 oz) of propellant
– 300 grams (8.5 oz) of liquid nitrogen
– 500 grams (16 oz) of nitrogen and oxygen
Dot turned to give Tony a dry look. “Did you have to be so technical in this list?”
Steve Rogers was still trying to understand how they were going to fit all of this in their backpacks.
‣ "This list is pretty big,” ‣ and all the pictures need to be numbered,” ‣ and I need to tell everyone” ‣ where everything is” ‣ and it's all in a binder” ‣ and I can't figure out” ‣ how we're going to fit it all in” ‣ it looks like I'll have to do it again tomorrow” ‣" ‣ he was getting very frustrated,” ‣ "‣ and I'm not very sure how to go about doing this,” ‣ and I think if I make a mistake I could mess this up” ‣"
Towards the end there, it sounds like Dot and Steve ganging up on Tony about this huge ass technical list, throwing idle comments back and forth at each other about it.
4. Peter Parker was wrapped around Dot's leg, sobbing about how he lost a dollar in a subway train.
"I really needed that dollar!"
"It's all right. We'll take care of you," Dot assured.
"I don't want to die. I need to go back. I'm still here," he said.
The couple began to walk around the block together.
"It's going to be OK," Dot assured him.
As they continued their walk, Dot became concerned about Parker, who she said was still acting "irrational" and could not answer any questions.
"We have to take him to the hospital," she said.
Lmao, there’s a lot I could say about this. It’s so fucking hilarious. It sounds like Dot was being interviewed at the end and Peter freaking out about his dollar and needing to be hospitalized...
5. Dot Dreadful was never one to swoon over Batman until she realized that he had lots of children. She became his assistant, doing his paperwork, keeping records, and even writing him love letters. Eventually, she was chosen to be the Batman's partner. But then she realized that all the letters she had written him were all nonsense and that she had never even been to the Batcave.
In the end, she went crazy, went into a catatonic state, and broke the cave so that Batman wouldn't get hurt in it. And in this state, she turned to ash and went to live in Gotham in the belly of a giant volcano.
The End of the Golden Age
WHAT THE FUCK LOL
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Do you have trans Steve headcanons? (Either stonathan or not)
Hm, I don’t think about trans Steve very often (although I have considered trans guy Jonathan but that’s another story) but let me tell you about some things that have been brought up that I do like.Steve chose his name because of Stevie Nicks, he really loves her music and her stuff is his go to on sad days. ( From a fanfic written by a friend of mine, tanniswright )Steve is very afraid to tell Jonathan he’s trans, especially because they go from friends to kind of together and he still hasn’t told him. Jonathan doesn’t care of course, when he does find out he’s a little confused but he knows what it’s like to be different so of course he accepts it.Steve’s parents moved to Hawkins because of Steve’s transition, they don’t support him but they really don’t kick him out or cause a stir about it because Steve is set on it and they want to be the Perfect FamilyTM. Jonathan worries about him binding his chest like all the time. They spend a lot of time together alone and Steve trusts Jonathan enough to take off his makeshift binder around him after a while. Steve never thought about dating a guy before Jonathan, he thought men were okay but he never found one worth going after. He was really freaked out about it and eventually ended up spilling everything to Nancy, who sort of mediated the entire thing… Because those two are absolute fools tbh.Steve really likes being taller than Jonathan because he likes to kiss his head a lot and it always makes Jonathan really blushy (not really a trans Steve headcanon but I mean honestly, it’s true)Steve acts really confident about everything but he’s super insecure about his body, he only lets Nancy and Jonathan really touch him (mostly Jonathan, who gives nice belly rubs when Steve stretches out on the couch in his lap). He has no idea how to style his hair, he’s honestly just winging it. But girls love it so he can’t be doing terribly despite the fact that it looks like he sculpted his hair with a giant rock on top of his head hidden inside.Steve makes Jonathan repeatedly call him his boyfriend in private, and Jonathan always complies and smiles while saying it because it makes Steve grin so big. Steve doesn’t compare himself to Jonathan very much because of how different they are, and he thinks that’s why they get along so well. Steve compares himself to every guy he meets except Jonathan. In general, Steve loves his smol n soft angry boyfriend no matter what. And Jonathan is a sweet supportive boyfriend that loves Steve lots and lots even though he refuses to admit it. “You love me”“Meh, I kinda don’t hate you”“yOU LOVE ME”“I NEVER SAID THAT!”Cue lots of wrestling and Steve pinning Jonathan down and tickling him until he admits defeat or can’t breathe (it’s usually the latter).
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Steve Binder "Firsts" Headcanons
>> ngl I feel like these are kinda boring and the list is short but I wanted to post something!! I'll probably make another few of these with Elvis and Jerry who knows. I hope ya'll enjoy! (I'll probably rage edit this later lmao)
masterlist || add yourself to the taglist HERE!
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
❁ you first meet Steve when you begin your internship at NBC. you’re there to shadow Steve and Bones and gain some experience with producing. even though it’s probably not appropriate, Steve immediately takes an interest in you. you aren’t afraid to admit you also find him very attractive, but keep those thoughts to yourself.
❁ after some thinking, Steve decides he wants to take you out sometime. he’s super nervous asking you out on a date even though he’s a very carefree person. there’s something about you, but he doesn’t want to ruin the steady friendship and work relationship you two have made. however, he desperately wants to know you better.
❁ to Steve’s surprise, you say yes to his offer for a lunch date after days of him deliberating on whether he should ask. you said yes a little too quickly, much to your embarrassment, but he didn’t notice. he was too busy being glad you actually agreed to a date with him.
❁ you’re a giggling mess the entire first date. Steve doesn’t hold back on his witty comments and sarcastic jokes. the things about him that others find annoying and sometimes irritating (like his wittiness and sarcasm), you found endearing and funny. you both get so caught up in each other that you nearly forget you have to go back to work.
❁ your first kiss comes at a very solemn time. Robert F. Kennedy has just been assassinated, and you and Steve are in the corridor outside of Elvis Presley’s dressing room. everyone had gathered around the TV in the dressing room, and after watching the events unfold, Steve needed a moment alone in the hall. after a few minutes of him being out there, you join him.
❁ at first, Steve doesn’t want you to see him upset, but you don’t care about that and make it known. you take him into your arms and let him embrace you as you both let out your sadness. Steve lifts his head to look at you, his face pretty close to yours now, and he loses himself in your eyes. before you can realize what’s happening, Steve is kissing you.
❁ a few moments later, Steve pulls away and begins to apologize profusely. but you tell him it’s okay, and you kiss him again.
❁ despite the sad events of that day, it brought you and Steve closer. you began dating and would see each other outside of work whenever possible. at this point, you were seeing one another almost 24/7 since you worked together too.
❁ you decide that you’re ready for the next step in your relationship with Steve. it’s been a few months of seeing each other now, and the thought of having sex has crossed your mind a few times. you two have been officially a couple for a month now, so you wonder if Steve would be ready to have sex as well.
❁ Steve is always very to himself and doesn’t give any indication of what he’s thinking unless it’s by sarcastic comment or a crack of a smile. so, when you drop some hints that you’re ready to have sex, you can’t tell how he feels about it. you can tell how he’s feeling about some things now that you’ve been around each other for months, but this is one thing he’s not budging on.
❁ “Y/N, if you wanna fuck, just say that,” Steve says with a completely blank face. you look at him, stunned, and then he starts grinning at your reaction.
❁ it’s a Friday night after a long day at NBC, and you’re at Steve’s place like every Friday after work. he butters you up with some wine and a romantic movie before he starts making his moves. his hand running up your thigh is the first indication, and the second is when his lips attach to your neck.
❁ your first time with Steve is slow, sensual, and sickeningly romantic. he takes his time with you, making sure to kiss everywhere he has access to. making love with Steve is an experience you’re glad to have had.
taglist: @cozacorner @onxlymnsn @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @jolovesfandoms @austinbutler17 @slutforblueeyes @misspygmypie @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @bobbykennedyfan @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @sarachacha @kittenlittle24 @alltheflowerstomav @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @csmt-m @apparently-sunshine @amiets2 @emchickynuggies @mrs-butler @satninbeaulieu @ari-nicole @xmusse @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @jessieeisenburg @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhore @shelbysbitchh @mavericksicybabe @sassy-ahsoka-tano
#steve binder#steve binder x reader#steve binder x y/n#steve binder x you#steve binder headcanons#steve binder fic#steve binder fanfic#steve binder fanfiction#steve binder imagine#fluff#headcanons#elvis#elvis 2022#elvis movie#elvis film#elvis (2022)#austin butler#elvis presley#floralcyanide writes
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ᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴇʙ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ – Peter Parker fanfic (4/of many)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
"I told you I never saw her coming out of the building!" I flutter my eyes hearing Happy's altered voice
"Then where the fricking fork is her?" my dad shouts back
I walk to the living room where the shouts were coming from and scratch my eyes, the drowsy feeling makes me stumble with my own feet
"What time is it?" I say between yawns
"wha... hey! where were you, missy?" my dad comes running at me
"on the I+D floor, working but I obviously fall asleep there, my back is killing me," I say without opening my eyes "now if you don't mind, I need my bed" I slowly stroll my way to my room and shut the door behind me
"She's going to become you" Happy whispers at the other side of the door before I doze off again
------------------
I quickly run downstairs, I take a donut and head to the lift
"what about your lunch?!!" my mom snorts surprised it's the first time I stayed asleep
"I'm running late, I'll buy something there!" I shout back and get inside the lift
When I find Happy at the street I nudge him and he starts driving to Midtown, I almost choked with the donut but survived. I close the door behind me and wave goodbye, I quickly walk to my locker and see that the guy from yesterday was trying to open it, I just stop some meters away from him.
"mmm hi!" I raise a little my voice for him to listen "what are you doing? huh?"
He turns at me and smiles "oh hey! it's you! well... I'm trying to open it but I think it's stuck" he continues to force the lock
"well..." I step closer "maybe because it's my locker?"
He squints his eyes making a confused face "what? no, they even wrote me down the number... look" he hands me a paper and I look at it
"yeah... mine is 896 and maybe if we turn this paper the other way... we have... 968... here" I give back the paper and he looks at it and sighs in embarrassment
He touches his messy hair "well, this is awkward... I almost ruin your locker... and mine is just across from yours..." he points to the other wall with lockers
"oh well, what a coincidence, go and break that lock...go on" I laugh
I open my locker and watch as he opens his and laughs, I take out my books and someone pokes my shoulder, the boy is now beside me.
"Hello again" he mutters "my name is-" but he was interrupted by Morita
"Classes are beginning! come on everyone! with energy!" he cheerfully claps and I look at the boy who rolls his eyes and then looks at me
"Need to go, running late" he smiles and starts walking away
"hey! what year are you in?!!" I shout at him
"JUNIOR!!!" he shouts opening the door of his classroom
Mmmm junior, he is 16...I stop the thoughts and walk to English. All the class was boring, just a debate about if love is the main topic in Romeo and Juliet, I avoid talking and so as Peter. Next was Biology with Harrington which consisted of a freaking show of plants and a talk about dinosaurs where most of the boys allow their inner child out. Then at Chemistry, I'm dangerous, I know that. Because I love to experiment with everything I can. I was beside Flash much to my disappointment so we started working but one of the Petri glasses fall so I spin to grab it and spot Peter experimenting with some mysterious liquids, he notices me eyeing the weird mix and he hardly gulps stopping everything and nervously smiled at me.
"what's that?" I whisper pointing at the weird mixture
"it's just ummm, nothing actually. I was bored" he whispers back
"hey! Penis Parker just close your mouth" Flash turns to him and whispers
"something you want to share Eugene?" Cobbwell raise his voice, making us turn and do our work
In the end, I see Peter running quickly the other way. So I ramble to the cafeteria, I'm starving. When I step there, all eyes were on me, but the look everyone was giving me it wasn't a look of good attention... it was resentment, angry looks, I knew it was about Sokovia, the topic it's kinda fresh. I walk to the food counters and start picking what I wanted, the cafeteria was now more silent than ever but eh, can't please everyone, it's not my fault, it's not my fault. Then someone pokes my left shoulder so I sigh and turn around, preparing to hear a speech of hate but it was that boy from earlier.
"Hey, you" He smiles with a tray of food in his hands
"hey," I happily say and shake the serious face "how were your first classes?"
"I loved them, I really like school, to be honest" he shrugs "so umm, I have nowhere to sit and people here already have friends so... would you like to sit with me?"
"ReallY' Oh, best decision you could ever make... I... yeah sure, let's go I have a good place for us"
I walk in front of him leading the way. Before I could open the doors I turn my face and see a bunch of girls sitting around a crying girl... oh... it's Natalie Spencer, sister of Charlie Spencer... a casualty of the Sokovia accident, from what I heard... he was building sustainable houses there.
I gulp, a sting of sadness outpours me. It's not my fault, it's not my fault.
The cool air hits my face, I walk across the damp grass and slump in the benches in front of the field, my usual spot.
"What a view!" he examines all around and sits beside me "it's like we are VIP" He grabs his burger and starts eating, not questioning me why I'm not presenting him to other people "I never told you my name by the way..."
"you look like amm a... Stephen?" I start eating my pizza
"am I a joke to you?" he touches his heart"
"all right! tell me your name then"
"I'm Harley Keener but Harley is ok" he kindly smiles
"nice to meet you Harley...pizza?" I offer and he nods
"maybe half a slice..." he cuts the pizza "you never told me your name... you want some fries?"
"Tannie, my name is Tannie and yes, I was staring at your fries..." I snort
"never heard that name before, I like it"
All the recess we talked about ourselves and what we like, my sense of humour was complemented with his, with so little time we already began a fight of witty comments, we laughed too hard that I even think that now I just have a six-pack like Steve now. We walk back, he has Chemistry, and I have music.
"So Rose Hill, Tennessee, that was a big change huh?" I ask feeling a Deja-vu, I heard that name before...
"It was, but I'm happy here now. It's just my sister, my mom and me so..." he steps in front of his classroom "see you later maybe?"
"of course! bye, Harley!" I wave goodbye and walk to music
When I enter the classroom I see everyone already holding their respective instruments, I see Peter with his flute and I internally laugh, he's so bad that I need to tell him...
"Hey Tannie!" he flashes a thin smile and I lower myself
"You're holding your flute so wrong Peter" I gently snatch it from his hands and demonstrate him the proper way "like this, see?"
"oh, uh... I've been doing it so wrong... thanks! I suck at this" he stutters and I squeeze his shoulder
"It's the first time someone touches your flute, Parker??!!!" Flash mockingly shouts from the other corner of the classroom and I almost choke when I hear his double sense so I turn to him and fulminate Flash with my stare
"oh! I didn't see you there Tannie...umm you are not... touching... umm Peter's flute of course..." he nervously says, trying to fix it but making it worse
I snort and turn to look at Peter who's ears are red and cheeks are blushed. I just hand him his flute without saying anything. Music and Art were bearable enough, then I head to Robotics and sigh when the only decent person skipped the club, again... so now I have to socialize. Minutes later I begin designing the official blueprints of the EMMA project, my concentration was broken when someone pokes my shoulder. So I spin.
"well, are you stalking me?" I quirk my brow at Harley who's carrying a bunch of papers
"You wish, you are the one stalking me!" he replies slumping beside me
"here, let me help you" I stand up and grab some papers that were almost falling "maybe you need a binder?"
"Probably but my kind of organization is disorganization" He shrugs and all those papers fly all over my desk
"Harley, this is cool" I grab one of his blueprints and raise it "I like how you fusion this part with this one" I point out
"really?" He leans to look at the paper "I like it too! you know, I got this inspiration since I was little, a friend of mine help me with super-advanced tools and yeah..."
"What a friend" I answer listening to his story "You know, if you ever need to work with more super-advanced tools, you can come to my place" I absentmindedly say
"Thanks, Tannie!" he then starts collecting all his papers and begin working
---------------
"and then I just ran to the river, the bees were all over me and my adrenaline was over the top" Harvey walks with me to the entrance
"and never got stung?"
"never! but I learned my lesson, not eating honey outside" he scratches his neck, I see Happy and wave at him
"that's me" I point to the car
he laughs "so the desperate driver is your desperate driver?"
"that's the one" I huff "you need a ride?"
"oh no! I just walk don't worry, thanks though"
"come onnnn!! I insist" and I insisted too much because grab his backpack frogmarching Harvey to the car and Happy's expression is priceless "Hey!"
"Hello Miss" Happy pretends to professional, he grabs his dark glasses and puts them on, I know he's staring at Harley "hello Mr....?"
"Keener but please call me Harley" he smiles at Happy shifting his backpack to his lap
Harley told me he lives in Queens near Highland Park so we were heading there, all the drive we were joking and talking about our robotics ideas.
"Sorry to interrupt but Cooper Ave and local streets are closed because of an accident" Happy announces
"well... what about if we go to my place?" I offer "maybe streets will open in some hours?"
"I don't want to be a burden," Harley says
"good..." Happy whispers but I manage to listen to that
"come on, I can show you everything I have for building robotic things" I throw my hands in the air and he chuckles
"just a for a little while then..." he nods and Happy grunts driving to the tower
When we arrive at the tower I see three trucks of U-haul full of boxes and furniture, the moving was faster than dad told me. I step inside waving at the daytime workers inside and Harley is eyeing everything in awe, when we enter the complex it was almost empty, I stroll to the kitchen and Harley behind me.
"want something? there are frozen vegetables, a weird dish that says paprikash and waffles..." I close the fridge "or take out?"
"last option sounds more appealing," he says leaving his stuff at the counter
We start talking, Harley is trying his best not to blurt a bunch of questions about my home. Then, I hear someone coming in, it's my dad that jogs directly to the bar and pours himself a glass of something, he looks up sensing a pair of eyes watching him and he smirks at me.
"Hey kiddo" he approaches me and instantly catches Harley at the other end of the kitchen "and hello male kiddo..." he says the last thing awkwardly
I see how the face of Harley changes to a surprise one, he totally knows who is Tony Stark and then I notice my dad's face changing as well and he covers his mouth.
"wait there..." my dad points at Harley
"Tony The mechanic!!" Harley shouts sliding from the high bench
"kid Keener!" my dad also shouts "I thought you were throwing potatoes at Rose Hill?" he excitedly palms the back of Harley and I just watch the scene quietly and confused
"still a hobby but after what you did for me... I improved my stuff"
"Can someone explain to me what is happening?" I finally speak and both turn to me
"well, honey... wait how you are here... with her?" my dad points between us waiting for an answer
"He just transferred to Midtown and we just met" I explain and my dad nods
"and Rogers was right, it's a small world after all" he mutters
"so you are his daughter?" Harley talks to me
"Better and improved" I proudly nod making y dad laugh "so... how you two met?"
"You know the story, about your mom's weird ex"
"Killian..."
"and the fact that I had to fake my death for a while"
"yeah... I was pretty traumatized..."
"while doing so, this fine kid or teenager I must say now... gave me asylum in his garage"
"he is the friend I told you who gave me those fancy super-advanced tools" Harley now speaks
"well, I wasn't expecting that" I honestly say while scratching my nose
"but hey! you grew up!" my dad turns to Harley
"yeah that is life ya know," Harley remarks making me laugh
"Are we still connected??" my dad touches his heart and makes a funny face
"shut up," Harley says and my dad laughs even harder, I'm feeling like the third wheel here
"is this lady offered you something?" my dad then points at me "you want a drink?" he says bringing his drink to his lips and I quirk my brow at him "I mean...like Minute Maid or a Capri Sun?"
"it's fine, we just order some take out" Harley sits beside me and my dad approaches us
"T, watch out for this kid, he's a pain in the a-"
"dad!!!!" I interrupt him
"Do you still have panic attacks?" Harley asks suppressing a smile making my dad spin to me
"I'm telling you T, a pain in the private parts" he grabs his glass and walks to his office "I'll be there if you need me. Not throwing potatoes please!" he shouts and closes his office door
"well... that was so bizarre" I finally add
The take out came and we ate at my room, we really had a great time laughing, joking and we begin designing a prototype of a machine, he was really smart and witty, a weird sense of humour. The highlight of the day was his face lighting up when he saw the robotics lab at the tower so we stayed there some minutes but in the end, it wasn't minutes, we were there for three hours. Finally, it was time for him to go so I told Happy if he could drive him and he refused but I blackmailed him with a video I took at the summer of him dancing to the Backstreet Boys so he reluctantly drove Harley.
From my room, I spot Uncle Rhodey walking to my dad. Nat, Steve, and Vision following him minutes later. Everyone with a tired face... no Scrabble today I see, so I decided the only thing to do is homework. I went to bed drooling all over the pillow
---I totally know it's a Peter Parker Fanfic but PATIENCE MIDGARDIANS! some drama and confusion is necessary---
A/N: hope you liked it! Also available in Wattpad! https://my.w.tt/sw2CZNdCv1
#peterparker#peter parker x reader#spider-man#spiderman#peterparkerfic#tomholland#tonystark#marvel#marvelcinematicuniverse#Marvelfanfic#fanfic#wattpad fanfic#tumblr fanfic#civil war#Avengers#midtown#steverogers#pepperpotts
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I DONT KNOW THE TITLE YET LMAO
Yo I wanna make a shit ton of marvel fanfic yo as my first one will include
•transboy!spooder man( MAJOR HEAD CANON)
•super family AF (poly version)
•steve+Tony+Bucky / dad + papa + daddy
•adopted peter (not mpreg )
•spoodypool (OF COURSE)
•WADE IS THE TOP AF
•tiny lil bottom PETETETETETTE
•tom standaddy Holland!spoodyboi
•ryan mcdaddy Reynolds ! Daddypool (cause who else is relevant duh)
•disphoria tw (trigger warning)
• Gore tw (come on it’s deadpool)
•inproper binder use tw
•deppression and anxiety tw
•probs gonna be 15 - 20 chapters
GET READY HEHEHEHEEHEHEHEHHEHE IM EXCITED
It’s gonna be on my WATTPAD @kinkylittleryden Link - https://www.wattpad.com/user/kinkylittleryden
#wattpad#superfamily#spidypool#gay#fanfic#polyamory#steve rogers#tony stark#bucky barnes#steve x tony#steve x bucky#tony x bucky#steve x bucky x tony#marvel#mcu#fanfiction#wade x peter#wade wilson#peter parker#iron man#captain america#spiderman#tom holland#winter solider#RDJ#chris evans#super husbands#supersmut#smut
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hey. I love your fanfic. And I was wondering what is your favorite part of the Elvis movie? And I hope your doing well. And taking care of yourself. And don’t get to burn out. Have a great weekend and great week. Can’t wait to see what your next fanfic will be. Send you my love👍🏻😊
aw thank you!! i appreciate you 🥺
ooh my favorite part of the movie is the Polk Sala Annie scene (of course who's surprised 💀 ) but i also really enjoy the Beale St. scene and the whole '68 special sequence!!! steve binder is my hero hehe
💕 thank you for asking sweet nonnie!
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corvid’s fic recs
Okay so I read A LOT of fanfic and this list is just a small fraction of the amazing work I’ve read that I want other people to read. Otherwise, I could yell about all the great writing out there for days and days.
Haikyuu!! is my main jam, so here is a (very incomplete) list of my favorite fics:
Quiet by @silvercistern - This is, hands-down, the best fan fiction I have ever read. I recommend it even if you know nothing about Haikyuu!! Essie does an amazing job of giving it the tone of a fairy tale and writing about a deaf character in a nuanced and carefully well-researched way. It is engaging, poignant, funny, and sexy. Seriously, just go read it. And then read everything else she has written because it is all great. I am super into bokuaka purely because Essie writes them so well.
bell, book, and candle by @skittidyne - If you are part of this fandom, you probably already know about this 500k+ still in progress fic. But it still needs to be in this list because it is amazing. Magical shenanigans, mythos from many different cultures, gratuitous use of non-English languages, the biggest cast (pretty much every canon character makes an appearance), lots of problem solving in creative ways, carefully processed character death. I could go on, but I feel like skitty already thinks I’m too into her story.
the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle by kittebasu - This fic makes me cry every time I read it. It is an amazing iwaoi non-linear narrative exploration of internalized homophobia, with added insect facts and academia woes. So, basically everything I’m into.
Flock Together by @lavenderfebreze - Canon-verse Ukai and Takeda, addressing what it’s like to be queer in a small town. There are at least two poems in every chapter and they all fit perfectly. This fic is still in progress, and as one of its betas, I can tell you the next parts of the story will be worth the wait :)
Sunflowers and Fireflies by @bluecoloreddreams - This fic is a great kidfic without falling into any of the common heteronormative bullshit tropes that kidfic so often falls prey to. It is also a great depiction of yamatsukki and a character with anxiety, and is clearly well-researched in terms of Japanese culture and laws.
Point all the fingers by @notallballs - A kyouhaba body swap fic. Hilarious. Trigger warning for sexual assault in one of the later chapters though.
The Sweetest Smile by @findingschmomo - 100% kyouhaba fluff and seijoh shenanigans. Kyoutani just wants to decorate cakes and I love it.
A couple of fics from other fandoms:
Known Associates by thingswithwings (Marvel Cinematic Universe) - This is the best queer narrative I have ever read. It addresses queer culture through Steve’s life before and after becoming Captain America, before and after being frozen. It is so well researched and thoughtful in its portrayal of what it means to be queer and especially in its exploration of gender. I bought my first binder because of this fic. The eighth chapter is an impressive bibliography. I refuse to read other Captain America fic because this is the Captain America of my heart.
Pseudesthesia by @universe-c (Star Wars: The Force Awakens) - Listen, I don’t ship kylux. I have only seen this movie once. I didn’t even really remember who Hux was. But my friend wrote this fic and they are a stellar writer. This story is full of extremely well done body horror and repressed feelings and analysis of the force. I am really looking forward to part 2.
The Observer Effect by thingswithwings (Welcome to Night Vale) - Another fic by this author! I met them at a con once and was to shy to talk to them about how great their writing is, so please read it and send them praise. Sexy in a very nightvalian way.
Fight For Your Fate by @guardiankarenterrier (Original Work) - This is a take-down of the classic red string of fate trope. It is a queer scifi story with a happy, hopeful ending, and I really like its interpretation of all kinds of relationships, not just romantic ones.
I know there are lots of other fics that aren’t on this list. I didn’t want to overwhelm people! So look forward to next time :)
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Kinktober Day Five
Praise Kink - Steve Binder
I thoroughly enjoyed writing this tbh. I wrote all of it while on campus between classes so if it's not flowing right, I apologize! to all my fellow Binder Bitches, I hope you enjoy this (:
pairing: Steve Binder x Reader
warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), cum eating (if you squint), praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up, y'all), public sex/ bathroom sex
word count: 919
masterlist || add yourself to the taglist HERE! || kinktober prompt list HERE!
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
Having sex at work is always messy, quick, and thrilling. It’s hard being quiet, though. Especially when Steve is fucking you. He knows exactly what he’s doing and how to do it, even when you’re sitting on top of the bathroom sinks with one leg propped on the counter and one dangling freely. It’s a compromising position but a fantastic one when it comes to hitting certain angles.
“Are you gonna be good?” Steve asks, his hips snapping forward as he covers your mouth to keep you quiet, “Gonna be quiet for me?”
You nod from underneath his hand, grasping onto his wrist when he hits your g spot suddenly. You gasp but keep yourself from moaning to obey Steve’s wishes.
“So good for me,” he grunts, running his fingers through your hair and down your neck, going past your collarbone and to your clothed breasts, where he grasps one.
Steve moves his other hand from your mouth to your throat, and your eyes widen a little as he’s never tried choking you. You don’t mind it, though. The dizzying pressure freezes you to utter silence. He squeezes the sides of your neck harder as he pounds into you, your ass moving backward on the counter with every particularly hard thrust. Steve moves the hand from your breasts down to your clit where he rubs tight circles at the same pace as his hips. You swallow a moan, eyes boring into Steve’s as he stares back into you with hooded eyes. His hair is messy now, and his shirt is slightly unbuttoned, revealing his hairy chest. You take advantage of his shirt being open by pressing your palm into his collarbone, digging your nails into the skin when he pushes your propped leg into your chest. Steve is now going even deeper, and you fight off letting out a cry.
“You’re doing so good, baby. Staying quiet so no one can hear us. I’ll reward you when I’m finished with you,” Steve smirks, his fingers still wrapped around the column of your throat.
“Keep telling me how good I’m doing,” you whisper, accidentally voicing your thoughts out loud.
Steve raises his eyebrows, a smile growing on his face as he slides his hand that’s on your neck up to your jaw. He presses his thumb and fingers into your cheeks, puckering your lips out.
“You’re taking this dick so good, sweetheart. Behaving so well and staying quiet for me. You just love hearing how good you’re being, don’t you? Does it turn you on?” Steve is close to your face, his breath hitting your skin. You clench around him at his words, and his thrusts falter for a moment.
“Fuck,” he growls, attaching his lips to yours hungrily, letting go of your face to return his grip to your neck.
Steve’s tongue traces your bottom lip before it slips into your mouth, and he licks around as his hips grind into your thighs. He continues to swipe his fingers along your clit, but opts for giving it a little pinch to see how you react. You whimper into the kiss, but Steve doesn’t pull away or get onto you. Instead, he does it again and again to challenge you, and you have to focus on your breathing. His movements begin to get sloppy as you feel him twitch inside you. You clench to get him further riled up, and he has to bite his lip to keep quiet.
“Gonna let me cum inside you, pretty thing? You’ve been so good for me,” Steve asks, and you nod in response.
He pinches at you again but doesn’t let up as he quickens his thrusts even more, causing stars to float behind your eyes. You cum first, clenching hard around him, which causes him to follow suit. You have to bite your fist to not make any noise as you come down.
“Now, about that reward for obeying so well,” Steve says, tucking himself away and zipping his pants back up, “Legs down and spread for me.”
You do as told, letting your propped leg dangle like the other one, spreading your legs apart, and waiting for further instruction. Steve sinks to his knees, and he’s just tall enough to meet your core face-to-face. He delves a finger between your folds, gathering the cum slowly spilling from you. Steve circles it around your clit before spreading you open and lapping up your entrance. The sight below you is enough to turn you on again. Your hands find Steve’s hair as he licks everywhere he can reach with his tongue, swirling and flicking. He sucks your clit into his mouth, rolling it around between his tongue and teeth. It sends a shock of electricity up your spine as your hips begin to thrust forward. You struggle to stay quiet, barely audible mewls leaving your lips.
Steve looks up at you through his lashes, his hand still spreading you apart as the other one grips your thigh. You cum again when he nips you with his teeth, a silent scream wracking your body. Your chest heaves from the overwhelming feeling, and you rest against the mirror behind you.
“You did so well, baby,” Steve pets your head, kissing you again before helping you get redressed, “When we get home, you can make all the noise you want.”
“Only if you tell me how good I am at being loud,” you wink, only half-joking.
Steve picks up on it and chuckles at you, “Deal.”
taglist:
@onxlymnsn @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @austinbutler17 @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @bobbykennedyfan @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @kittenlittle24 @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @amiets2 @mrs-butler @mesbouquins @ari-nicole @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @beautyofelvis @mavericksicybabe @coco-bitch @bobthefishiesworld @emmymaehereeeeee @myguiltypleasures21 @rainydayz101 @finelineskies @cryingabtab @kaitaesupremacy @ash-omalley @latenighttalking13 @tom-whore-dleston @presleylust @oh-kurva @cece05 @poppet05 @sassy-ahsoka-tano
#steve binder#steve binder x reader#steve binder x you#steve binder x y/n#steve binder imagine#steve binder smut#steve binder fanfiction#steve binder fanfic#steve binder fic#steve binder x you smut#kinktober#floralcyanide kinktober#elvis movie#elvis 2022#elvis#elvis (2022)#steve binder x y/n smut#floralcyanide writes
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