#Baz(OC) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wanderingelvis · 1 year

Note

First things first, in love with your writing style! Have a little request for you: teenage!Elvis taking a bubbly!bookworm! reader to a high school dance at Humes. The reader lives at Lauderdale Courts as well and he often spots her reading on the grass in front of the building. The two bond increasingly over books (he could listen to her enthusing over novels for hours) and this led to his asking. A very cute, softhearted romance overall. Thank you, let me know what you think! 💜

i love this request sm, it was meant to be short but i got carried away and now it's the longest request i've written! 🧚

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

word count: 4,762

pairing: 50s elvis x bubbly, bookworm female! reader

Oh Lord, Elvis adored you. You were practically the human version of a golden retriever and he thought you were awful sweet.

Elvis had a tough time at high school, he was a bit different, he liked to style his hair differently and enjoyed different music to most of the folks at school. Girls loved him, but finding friends was a challenge.

It meant that Elvis was fairly reserved, which was often mistaken for stand-offish and intimidating, when actually, Elvis just wanted to make sure he was surrounded by kind people.

Your mother and father had warned you about the boy from Lauderdale Courts, the one that looked "rebellious" and sinful, even if they actually quite liked Gladys and Vernon Presley. But you knew that Elvis wasn't a mean spirited person, he'd never made fun of you at school like some other people had, when he'd had every opportunity to do so.

You didn't let mean comments from school get to you. You knew that it was just a reflection of the whoever had said the nasty words and that they'd learn better eventually. That's what your book had told you, all the characters that had been the subject of harsh words never let it get to them and you decided that you wouldn't let the words get to you either.

You loved books, they were your passion and you would rarely be found without a book in your hands. Between classes, at the breakfast table, on the lawn in front of Lauderdale Courts, you always managed to find time to start reading your latest favourite novel.

And that's how Elvis first approached you, on the lawn of Lauderdale Courts, under your favourite tree with your nose buried in a book. You hadn't even noticed him standing over you until he coughed to get your attention.

Elvis had been through a rough day, he was graduating high school along with you, but he'd started talks with a record label and there was a possibility of even touring and performing some songs. It was exciting albeit stressful and there were a lot of people applying a lot of pressure onto the young star.

Elvis just wanted to relax when he arrived home after some meetings, to unwind and calm down a little, and when he spotted you basking in the warm, golden sunlight, giggling adorably at the book, he figured that whatever happiness you held was infectious - and he walked over straight to you.

He'd always noticed you but you'd never exactly paid him much attention as your stories were your top priority.

"Hello darlin'," Elvis said, crouching down by you as you peered up at him, squinting a little to avoid the blinding evening sun. "Mind if I join ya?" He asked.

You were a little taken aback at first, no-one ever approached you, especially when you were reading and you knew that Elvis was popular with the girls at school, so you wondered why he wanted to spend time with you. Nevertheless, you didn't question it too much, he was friendly enough.

"Sure!" You smiled, turning your head back to your book in your hands, it was Little Women, a book you'd read before but you really couldn't get enough of it, this must've been the fourth, no, fifth time you've read it?

"You're Y/N right?" Elvis interrupted, making you turn your attention back to him.

"Yup. You're Elvis Presley." You said softly.

"You know who I am?"

"Sure, you're in my History class, you sit next to Jonny Albright. You live on the floor above me!" You said gently.

"And you're the girl who loves books ain't ya?" Elvis pointed out, not in a mean way, just observatory as he laid down on the grass, propping his upper body up by leaning on his elbows as you sat with your back leaning against your favourite tree.

"Guess I am." You giggled. "Do you like books?" You asked after realising that Elvis was wanting a conversation.

"Sure I do, maybe not as much as you do, but I like 'em, I see you a lot out here readin' y'know." Elvis said, making you feel an odd sensation for the first time and you blushed a little at him admitting to noticing your habits.

"I love books and stories, my Momma and Papa, they say that it's good to read but I gotta try to make some friends more and I know they're right but I just can't help it, I start readin' a book and I can't put it down until I know what happens at the end!" You said with a soft smile, you did want some more friends but you felt like you found friends in the characters of all the stories you were reading and you didn't actually mind if they weren't exactly real. You looked up at Elvis who was just watching you with sheer interest and intrigue. "You know, my Papa even put me on a ban from buyin' any new books the other week. I just been readin' all my old ones all over again." You confessed.

"So that one ya got there, that ain't a new story?" Elvis chuckled, you were very sweet, he was starting to regret not having approached you sooner. His thoughts about his meetings were already slipping away.

"Nope, this is my favourite book, it's Little Women, have you read it?" You asked.

"No, but I'd like to, when I got some more time maybe." Elvis said, he wasn't exactly sure if he would like to read it, he didn't really know what it was about truthfully, but he was starting to like you a little already, and when your face lit up with a smile at him suggesting he might read your favourite book, he knew he'd said the right thing.

"Oh wow!" You said, excited at the prospect of sharing your love of books with someone. "Well, I'd let ya borrow this copy but my little dog, Basil, he tore out a few bits of a few pages, it's not too bad because I've read this maybe five times or somethin' like that, so I can understand the missin' bits, but it might not make sense otherwise. But maybe, um, maybe you could try the school library! I could even look for you tomorrow at school if ya wanted me to! I really wouldn't mind!" You said, beginning to ramble, but you were just so excited.

"That copy is sure lookin' worse for wear sweetheart." Elvis chuckled, the spine was torn and chunks of pages were missing and you'd sure like a new one but your Papa was right, you couldn't be spending anymore money on new books.

"I know, but it's my favourite story." You said fondly. "The main character, Jo, well she wants to be a writer ya see, and that's kinda what I wanna do when I grow up, maybe." You confessed.

"A writer say?" Elvis said, raising an eyebrow, impressed.

"Uh-huh! A writer! I ain't written much yet but I got dreams and I got ideas and I think maybe, one day, other people would like to read what I got to write." You told him eagerly.

"I'd read anything you wrote darlin'." Elvis said, being simultaneously flirtatious and sincere.

You blushed at the words, no boy had ever said such kind words to you, let alone one as handsome as the one laid out in front of you.

You babbled on some more in the sticky summer air, explaining why you loved certain books, giving Elvis recommendations and answering all the questions he had - which were a lot. It was only when your mother hollered at you from your window that you had to bid Elvis goodbye and scurry in for your dinner. Elvis watched you dash away, turning back whilst running to give him a wave, knowing he was smitten with you.

You were adorable in every sense of the word, cheery, chatty and charming. It didn't hurt that you were awful cute looking too.

After spending all night thinking about your amazing evening with Elvis, you decided to make a beeline for the library during school the next day. You loved the library and librarians and whilst you wanted to be a writer, you sure did want to be a librarian too. The idea of looking after so many books and being surrounded by like-minded bookworms was such an exciting idea for you.

It didn't take you long to find a copy of Little Women and you took it out straight away. You didn't really know where Elvis would hang out but you decided to wander around the hallways looking for him.

You eventually found him, standing next to what you assumed was his locker. He was chatting to some friends who you would later come to know were Billy and George. Tentatively, you approached him, tapping his arm to get his attention. He turned around, looking down at you with a smile when he realised who it was.

Standing next to him, you couldn't help but notice how tall he was compared to you, you felt so little and the way he spoke to you sometimes made you feel that way too.

"M'sorry, I don't wanna interrupt," You said as you realised he was in the middle of a conversation.

"Not interrupting anythin' important sweet thing," Elvis said, making you blush at the pet name. "Billy, George, I'll meet ya at gym." He said, dismissing them before turning his attention back to you.

"I just went to the library, they had a copy of Little Women, well actually they had three copies, can you believe it!?" You enthused, making Elvis chuckle at how cute you were. "Well, um, anyways, I got one for ya, I figured you might be busy, my Momma said last night that your Momma told her that you got a lotta meetin's and stuff so I thought I'd get ya this! You don't gotta read it but it's real good!" You explained, trying to catch your breath from speaking so quickly.

You were a little nervous in front of him and you weren't sure why, he was very attentive in the short time you'd spoken to him, he didn't make you feel bad for being a bookworm, so you were a little confused at your feelings. You supposed you just didn't want to bore him.

"Slow down lil' mama, you gotta catch some air honey." Elvis laughed at your rambling and you giggled. "But that's awful thoughtful of ya honey. Y'know what I'm gonna do?" Elvis said, as you shook your head, waiting to find out. "I'm gonna come join ya after school by your favourite lil' tree and read some of this with ya, if that's okay of course, I know it's ya favourite lil' spot." Elvis said, as you placed the copy in Elvis' large hands.

"Of course it's okay Elvis! I'd really like that y'know! Oh! It will be like a mini book club, kinda! I always wanted to go t'one of them! We could talk about our favourite characters! I mean ya already know that mines Jo, but you might have a different favourite, I like Laurie a lot too, actually, I kinda like all the characters in a way!" You babbled, beside your little self with joy at the prospect of Elvis reading with you.

"This is awful kind of ya, baby." Elvis acknowledged.

He really was taken aback at your gesture. Lately, he'd been in many situations where people were looking to see what they could get out of him and he was finding it difficult to trust people and accomodate everyones expectations of him. It seemed like you were something of a little guardian angel, finding him at just the right time, with no bad intentions, just a whole lotta love.

"S'okay! You got three weeks until I gotta give it back or renew it but Barbara, the librarian, she's real nice and she lets me keep 'em for longer sometimes, especially when they're my favourites, so, um, so you don't gotta read it right away or nothin'!" You insisted, not wanting to pressure him.

"Thank you, Y/N, I mean it, this is awful kind. I gotta get t'gym, but I'll catch ya by your tree?" Elvis checked, he really wanted to spend his time with you. You were oh so bright and bubbly and it just radiated off you, onto him.

"Sure! Bye Elvis!" You beamed, waving at him again cutely, dashing off, not wanting to waste any of your recess time away from your books.

Elvis watched you leave once again and he shook his head, he was falling and falling hard.

Like clockwork Elvis met you by your tree. You were dressed in your little linen white dress, a smock scarf around your hair, protecting your head from the beaming sun and your bare feet with rested on the cool grass as the sprinklers would dust you with droplets of water, instantly cooling you down from the heat. You were practically in heaven, but the heat was a little much for you, even though you usually loved it. It had just been a tough day of classes, you were finding them a little harder as they went on, so you'd concentrate extra hard, giving you a bit of a headache. Mixed with the head, you were finding the words on the page a bit challenging to focus your attention onto.

"Hey darlin, how's ya book comin' along? Think you can guess the ending yet?" Elvis teased, knowing you'd read the book a million times over already.

"Can't really focus, my head kinda hurts." You admitted, feeling kinda frustrated. All you'd been looking forward to during those difficult classes was coming to your tree to read and now your head wasn't letting you.

Instantly, Elvis' protective and attentive attitude kicked in, he was already feeling attached to you and he just wanted to make you feel better.

"Shit honey, can I make you feel better? Can I get ya anythin'? You want some lemonade doll? My Momma just made a whole jug, it's real nice, a bit sweet but you'd like it." Elvis said, suddenly quite worried about you.

You couldn't help but softly giggle at his reaction. You hadn't actually heard anyone you knew curse before, you'd heard strangers do it but never someone you were friends with. "It's okay Elvis, just a little headache from school and the sun s'all. I just wish I could focus on my book, I'd been looking forward to it all day." You said, gazing up at him, admiring the golden glow the sun was giving him.

Elvis instantly removed the light jacket he had on, he didn't need it in this heat anyway. You watched him curiously as he draped it over one of the branches of the tree, offering you a decent sized patch of shade near where you were sitting. Elvis moved to sit down by you, taking the copy of Little Women that you'd got him earlier in the day, with the patch of shade covering his lap.

"Here, lie down honey, it'll help stop the headache if ya rest, you can put ya head on my lap like it's a pillow or somethin', so it's in the shade. Y'know if it's a bit cooler, it'll help stop the pain?" Elvis cooed. "And I can read the story to ya, as long as ya don't mind me startin' from the beginning?" He quizzed.

You felt those funny feelings coming back into your body again, making you feel happy, fuzzy and confused all at the same time. You obediently laid down, resting your head in Elvis' lap as he smiled lovingly down at you. You'd never been so intimate with a boy before, but you felt like you'd known Elvis so much longer than just a mere 24 hours, and Elvis felt the same way too.

The pair of you had such a kinship already that it was hard not to feel utterly relaxed in each others company.

"See? Not so bad is it?" Elvis said, tenderly brushing some hair away from your face that had clung to your temples from the summer air.

"It's nice." You said quietly.

You turned your head to look out at the lawn, watching as the sprinklers periodically spun around, hydrating the surrounding area. It was relaxing to watch as you listened to Elvis' deep voice reading you your favourite story.

You never wanted the moment to end, you finally found a friend who wanted to love everything you loved, and you were in nothing short of paradise.

It was near the end of Chapter 2 that you dozed off in the golden, evening sun, the droplets from the sprinklers hitting your exposed, tanned legs as well as the white little dress you had on, making your thighs appear through the damp wet fabric.

Elvis stumbled on his words after his eyes caught the sight, you were everything he wanted and he wanted all of you.

He paused, noticing the way that your chest rise and fell peacefully as you slept, completely relaxed and headache-free after everything Elvis had done for you. Elvis continued reading the book in silence, enjoying the story and realising why you loved it so much.

It wasn't until a while later that your Momma hollered for you yet again, signalling that your supper was ready, that Elvis pried you awake, your cute little whines making him smile.

"Aw, I'm sorry lil' mama, but you gotta go feed that belly of yours." Elvis chuckled softly, as you pushed yourself up from his lap, a grumpy yet adorable little pout plastered on your face from being woken.

"I gotta go already?" You mumbled sadly, realising you'd drifted off during your time with Elvis.

"Afraid so baby, but we can do this again tomorrow, we can do it whenever you like, kid." Elvis insisted, hoping that you'd ask him to spend every waking second with you.

You nodded, rubbing your eyes.

"You feelin' better now darlin'?" Elvis checked and you gave him another sleepy nod of confirmation.

"Uh-huh. Wanna stay with you." You said shyly.

"I know doll, I wanna stay with you too, you gotta go get your food though, otherwise you won't have any energy to read all your stories." Elvis said and you nodded, knowing he was right. "C'mere." Elvis said gently, opening his arms, indicating for you to let him give you a cuddle - one that you needed right now.

Despite being hesitant, you'd never actually given a boy your age a cuddle, you molded yourself into his arms, relaxing with a soft sight, inhaling his scent of Old Spice aftershave.

"Catch ya later, kiddo." Elvis smiled, kissing the top of your head, making those funny little feelings escalate.

"Ba-bye Elvis." You said, adorably, making Elvis' heart flutter. You were just precious.

Days turned into weeks, and every day after that you and Elvis would meet outside Lauderdale Courts, reading and chatting. He wouldn't often say much, he just loved listening to you enthusiastically babbling away at the current book you were reading. He was impressed at the speed of your reading, you could put away a short novel in an afternoon sometimes and Elvis would try to keep up with you but you'd read more than anyone else he knew.

He loved listening to you every day until you were called in for your dinner. His feelings for you were growing stronger with every word that came out of your mouth and the same went for you, you figured you maybe had a crush on Elvis and you really did hope that he liked you back. He'd never made you feel like a weirdo for being a bookworm, in fact he tried to emulate your passion, just to be able to spend time with you which you thought was awful sweet of him.

You would both look forward to seeing each other in the late afternoons every day, watching the clocks go by in the classroom and counting down until you saw each other. You'd even started walking home together, sometimes Elvis would even drive you if he'd gone for another meeting, which was a special treat for you.

It wasn't until a couple of months later in mid-July that Elvis finally mustered up the courage to ask you a question that had been on his mind after your head hit his lap on that second day, all those weeks ago.

"Y/N?" Elvis said, taking the book that you were reading out of your hands and placing it down on the grass. Elvis was sat against the tree, with his legs opened wide so you could sit in between them and rest your back against his chest.

"Hey!" You said at him taking away your book, you were just getting to the good part.

"I gotta question for you, it's serious now, I'll give you your book back in a minute but you gotta listen to me carefully honey." Elvis said as you sat up and turned around so you could look directly at him, curiosity painting your face.

"What's wrong? Did I give ya a bad book? I can replace it if ya want? Or are you sick? That can happen with the heat remember! I can try and make some shade if you are, or get you some water! You shouldn't be out here if ya-"

"Baby, I'm okay, you just gotta listen, okay?" Elvis said, taking your little hands in his large ones as you watched him intently. Elvis sighed deeply, his nerves getting a little better of him. "Here goes nothin'" He said, partially to himself. "Y/N, I wanna take you to the dance next week. What do ya say?" Elvis said, watching for your reaction.

You felt your heart skip a beat. You had decided you weren't going to go, even if secretly you'd wanted to. You knew it'd be filled with couples and you hadn't really wanted to surround yourself with that if you were going to be on your lonesome.

"Can I bring my book?" You asked shyly and Elvis beamed.

"Of course ya can, sweet thing. Can I take that as a yes?" Elvis chuckled, petting your soft hair.

"Uh-huh!" You giggled, biting your lip excitedly. "Oh boy, I've never been to a dance, I know there was a Spring one last year, but I just didn't have anyone t'go with, and I kinda, actually, no I wanted to go real bad to this one! And I didn't really wanna go with just anyone either ya see, but I just would've thought you would've had loads a girls to ask, I see girls tryna talk to you all the time at school! Especially Sue-Ellen, she sure does like you, sometimes it makes me feel-" You paused, realising you were rambling and maybe saying just a little too much.

"Makes you feel like what, little un'?" Elvis asked curiously. He thought Sue-Ellen was nice, sure, but he and her only talked so much because the pair of you were partners for a Lab test.

"No, it's silly, forget it." You said, brushing it aside.

"No, I wanna know Y/N. How does it make you feel when you see me talkin' to other girls, tell me." Elvis insisted, starting to enjoy seeing you wriggle around. He knew what your answer would be, he just really needed to hear it.

"It makes me, I don't know, I guess, it just makes me sorta wish that, sorta wish that it was me that you were talkin' to," You said gently, looking down at your lap as your sun-kissed cheeks started turning a little pink. "It makes me sorta, maybe, jealous." You practically whispered, but Elvis heard every word.

Elvis took your cheeks in his large hands, lifting your head so you would look directly at him.

"You know you're my number one girl, don't ya?" Elvis grinned, making your tummy do somersaults. You recoiled with giggles at the words, you were just putty in his hands at this point.

You ended up chatting away as the evening drew on, telling Elvis about the perfect dress that your Momma wore to her own dance, you'd actually tailored it a little so it would fit you and be able to attach a corsage onto it.

When your Momma called for you at the same time as usual, you gave Elvis a hug, telling him that you couldn't wait to go the dance with him and you thanked him for asking you.

You glanced at him momentarily before pushing yourself forward and placing your pink lips on his cheek, giving him a gentle kiss. It was the most forward thing you'd ever done but you felt so comfortable around Elvis that you didn't mind.

Elvis was a little stunned, he watched you as you giggled and crawled off his lap, running towards your Momma with bare feet on the grass and your dress flying up every now and again, exposing your thighs as usual.

Elvis would be the first to admit that he'd never experienced love in a romantic way but after today, he was sure that had changed.

When the dance finally came around, you were naturally a little anxious, even skittish, constantly fiddling with the corsage that Elvis had given you, as well as the lilac tulle of your dress. Elvis kept reassuring you throughout the evening that not only did you look completely beautiful but that you were both going to have a great time and that there was nothing to worry your pretty little head over.

"Y/N, I wanted to give ya somethin, it's nothing big or anythin' but I wanted you to have it." Elvis said before the pair of you arrived at the dance.

He placed a familiar shaped item in your hands, wrapped up in brown paper with a wonky bow on it. You glanced up at him, looking for him to give the go-ahead to open it, which he did. You didn't waste any time in taking off the wrapping, only for a gasp to leave your pink lips.

"Elvis..." You said, little tears pooling in your eyes, touched at the gift. It was a brand new, latest edition of Little Women, one that didn't have half of the pages ripped out.

"Is it the right one? The lady in the store said it was the best one they had, and I know you love that raggedy old one ya got but I thought my little girl should have one that at least has all the pages intact." Elvis said, hoping that you'd love it.

You'd never had anyone do anything so thoughtful for you before. You looked up at him with your glassy eyes and he immediately cooed. "Oh baby, don't cry now, it's just a book." Elvis said, thumbing away the tears.

"It's more than a book, Elvis, it's the nicest thing anyones ever done for me." You told him with a wobbly voice. Elvis leaned over and kissed your cheek, making you blush. Little did you know, that Elvis went to the store the day after he'd met you and bought that book for you, all those weeks ago. "And I can fit it in my purse!" You said with pride, showing Elvis who laughed at how adorable you were, as you looked forward to taking it to the dance.

The pair of you began to make your way to the dance, with Elvis holding your hand tightly, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand soothingly as you entered the dance hall. Your eyes lit up as you looked around, admiring how beautiful and pretty everyone looked as well as all of the pretty decorations.

"Wow..." You gasped as Elvis chuckled, looking down at you and watching your reaction. "I feel like a real grown up Elvis." You whispered to him.

"Not quite lil' mama, the fruit punch ain't got no alcohol in it just yet." Elvis laughed. "Wanna dance with me?" Elvis offered, leading you to the little dancefloor.

The pair of you slow danced to the music, Elvis occasionally pulling a funny face to make you do that giggle that he would now hear in his dreams, he loved it so much. You felt your spine tingle as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Neither of you noticed all the eyes on you, the odd pairing of the up and coming rock 'n' roll star student and his little, bubbly, bookworm, but as the night went on, everyone got a little more used to it and no-one even noticed when you two headed off in search of the library in your party dress and Elvis' smart jacket, desperate to curl up together with that sparkly new copy of Little Women that you'd stashed in your bag.

#elvis x y/n #elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis #elvis fluff #elvis presley #elvis x reader #yandere elvis #baz luhrmann elvis #austin butler elvis #70s elvis #50s elvis #60s elvis #elvis x you #elvis x oc #innocent reader #little reader

420 notes · View notes

whatwooshkai · 4 months

Text

they're making them guess

#no patience more art #maccadam #transformers #transformers fanart #transformers rescue bots #tfrb heatwave #tfrb chase #tfrb blades #tfrb boulder #tf quint #tf baz #tf quicksilver #<-A NEW CHALLENGER IS APPROACHING #transformers ocs #tf ocs #my art #woosh ocs

52 notes · View notes

cattocavo · 19 days

Text

Six sentence sunday!

It’s not sunday anymore but I’m just gonna ignore that because i didn’t have any time yesterday to write this post but I do have something to share!

Thank you @monbons and @thewholelemon for tagging me!!

Some days ago i picked up this old wip for an instagram reel. I started the first frame in February, so don’t expect it to be done anytime soon😭

The reel is gonna be in a cartoon style, because even though I’m not used to drawing cartoon, it’s still quicker than drawing realistic.

Heres the first frame:

Aaaannd heres the second frame, the one I’ve been working on recently:

For those wondering: Fionas drinking an entire pot of coffee like the maniac that she is.

Fyi the backgrounds aren’t finished yet

And for the few who are interested in my art in general, even something thats non simon snow related, theres some bonus content under the cut :D

This is a sketch of my oc whispering concepts to her keen eared statue. The hushed words shall start a revolution >:)))

27 notes · View notes

aconflagrationofmyown · 1 year

Text

The Great Elvis & Elaine Conspiracy of ‘58

A Sarge and lil Mama fic

Summary: Elaine’s father, Mr. Phipps’, perspective on that two week engagement

Warnings: lots of talk about wifely duties, virginity and sex-ed being withheld from a bride, Elvis continuing to be a very sweet but slightly creepy fiancé if ya think too hard about it (or think at all), grinding and an untouched male orgasm resulting in ruining pants, brief, blink and you miss it mention of entrapment

Special thanks to my darling and ever so capable beta reader @prompted-wordsmith for her plotting and her editing and her killer addition sentences 🌹

Hope y’all enjoy and don’t hold back in my comments and dms, your feedback is aqua vita. And trust the process, this got you one shot closer to that wedding night fic 😈

“Who’s gonna tell her…about her…marital duties?” Mr. Phipps, alone in his truck, asked his speedometer the question that had been tormenting him ever since Elvis informed him he was gonna marry his daughter.

Mr. Phipps missed his Eleanor every day since she passed, but the days leading up to the wedding of their only child made him miss her more than ever. Elaine was as ready and molded and perfect as any mother could have hoped for in a child, steady and good, even in Eleanor’s absence. But decorum and hostess skill and tax smarts don’t prepare you for falling into bed with a rockstar. Mr. Phipps was young once, too, and hungry, dirty, uncontainable passion for his Eleanor had created Elaine, after all. He knows the drive, the spine tingling urge, the rabid hunger of a man for a woman. It shames and terrifies him to speak of it now that object of his passion is moldering in the ground. She would have known how to phrase it in lofty, gentle, tender words that would elevate so crass an act as sex into the sacred verbiage of marriage. But she was gone.

And there was never a good time for it ever since, stupid hope had led him to believe that what his daughter didn’t know would not tempt her. Now he wished she knew more, every hint he dropped to test her knowledge she passed with flying, pearly white colors of stellar virtue. And meanwhile the days passed and Elvis Presley watched her like a man possessed, large hands already entitled to holding her own whenever they were together, his smoldering eyes raking and surveying his imminent conquest—her ripe, young body.

Mr. Phipps shuddered over ham sandwiches and asked Elaine if she believed in storks. She had laughed long and hard over her lunch before rolling her eyes in bemused exasperation with her father and returning her focus back to the list of personal items to be moved to Graceland tomorrow.

“Who’s gonna tell her?” he asked his truck, pulling into the back of the groom's mansion.

This would be his girl’s place, legal and symbolic, before the week was up. She’s a clever one, his Elaine, business savvy even in the thick of romance, just as she is terribly, terribly innocent in carnality. He has a sick feeling that Elvis, like a lotta young men including Mr. Phipps himself twenty years back, finds that combination achingly delightful. That thought always kills right in its tracks his cowardly impulse to leave it to Elvis himself to tell his bride all about it.

God knows what sorta perversion that could lead to. Eleanor would kill him, he’d kill himself if he let Elvis hurt her, shame her, defile her.

But it’s a slow death as is, trying to clear his throat and think of a way to describe phalluses going into vaginas that ain’t inappropriate for a father to relay to a daughter. These attempts always end as they begin, with his daughter looking expectantly at him and offering lozenges, confused as to why he interrupts her preparations when he has nothing to say.

He thinks Divine inspiration has struck when upon pulling up to the back of Graceland he sees Mary, the hired cook who’s more family than employee, coming out to help him unload Elaine’s dishes and servingware. Eleanor’s heirlooms, famillair china pieces of no great value beyond sentimentality, but Mr. Phipps loves his daughter for the fact she moves her mama's dishes into the fully stocked mansion, solely because they were her mama’s.

Elvis had cleared a place beside Gladys’ newer collection with his own two hands, pressing kisses to Elaine’s forehead and swearing his home was her home now. The married cutlery in the drawer proved it.

Mr. Phipps couldn’t deny the boy's sincerity when it came to his feelings for Elaine. Those feelings gushed out of him in gifts and promises and tears and thanks, in petting and holding and kissing and watching and in grinding—her father suddenly squinted at Mary and the Divine thought came to him.

“Say Mary, uh, you’ve been around awhile,” he stuck his foot in his mouth and marched right on over it, “uh, do you reckon you could take Elaine under your wing? Ya know sorta, show her the ropes, fill her in on uh… womanly duties and such?”

“Why, Mr. Sam,” Mary had chided him with a large smile on her face, stacking the heirlooms lovingly, “course I will. Though I reckon that girl knows all there is to know, never seen a child so proficient in the kitchen as your daughter. Makes Mr. Elvis’s eyes pop clean outta his skull the way she handles a spatula.” Mr. Phipps did not want to think of just what went on in that wiggly boy’s head concerning his daughter in an apron and wielding such an utensil.

Mary’s voice had trailed off, a dreamy look of admiration on her face as she reminisced on Elaine’s culinary proficiency. His hint entirely misinterpreted, Mr. Phipps returned to his truck in melancholy resignation.

“Wish we could give ya a weddin’ shower, let the ladies at the church spoil ya a bit.” He had later tried this track with Elaine, too, meaning he wished they could spill the beans about the upcoming wedding so the church ladies would squawk and flutter round to give the necessary advice to the young bride.

“Oh daddy we can’t!” Elaine had dropped her fork and grabbed his hand earnestly, acting as if he’d just proposed betraying government secrets, which come to think of it was about the scale of leaking Elvis’s intention to marry, “They’ll let the papers know and that'll alert Parker an’ it’ll be a mess! Just the family, it’s gotta be just the family, and I’m alright with that.”

Family. The remaining female population of the family consisted of a sister of Eleanor’s and Minnie Mae “Dodger” Presley.

Dodger no doubt could do the job of educating the girl well enough, but Mr. Phipps was loath to bring up the subject of sex with the wizened old bird. Not so much out of embarrassment so much as a gnawing presentment that such a lady could sniff out a man’s background and inner thoughts, that she could look into his skull as if it were a crystal ball and see that he had once nearly failed his own vows and banged his secretary. He had no appetite for chancing Dodger being as intuitive as he worried she was.

So that left the aunt, Eleanor’s sister. And initially, when he asked her to talk to the girl about wifely duties, it went over shockingly well. The aunt had marched up the stairs to the girl’s room right away, and came back downstairs five minutes later, saying it was done. Mr. Phipps wanted to know what all had been covered and explained in a meager five minutes, wanted to know if Elaine had taken the lesson well or was perturbed by it.

“Brother,” she had corrected stiffly, “these are not matters for a man and woman to discuss. I told her to be good and obedient. That’s all she needs to know.”

And the aunt was right, there was nothing proper about discussing it, but somehow not discussing it and letting poor Elaine bounce into her fancy new bed on her wedding night only to have that boy roll atop her and shove himself in with no explanation struck him as equally horrible. And it kept Mr. Phipps awake at night. Someone had to tell her. Someone, he thought with a growing headache, that he had yet to find or convince or conjure up. He was running out of time to perform this miracle, too.

Elaine herself had an irksome feeling something was being kept from her. But now that her curiosity was burning and her clock was ticking, she found all avenues of knowledge thwarted. Books she went to rent raised eyebrows and she could not bear to approach the library desk and have them checked out, the prospect of returning them once known and famous as the new Mrs. Presley a very real hurtle. Similarly, asking young girlfriends or their mothers would cause chatter and later be remembered and tied together with her union to Elvis. People would talk and say he married someone unprepared, a girl and not a woman. What she did in these upcoming weeks would reflect on him for the rest of their lives, every interaction, every glutted curiosity, every blush would be recalled and documented as hints of the Great Elvis and Elaine Conspiracy of ‘58.

So she contented herself with Elvis’ assurances that they would work and his promises that he would teach her in due time. She watched the silver screens fade to black during movie kisses and had to assume the scene fading before her hinted at sleep. What else was there?

Until that “what else” arrived, she was worked off her feet to keep the wedding under wraps and shift her belongings and schedule to align with Elvis and his orbit.

And in the meantime there were his kisses.

It was right and proper to hold hands now, Elvis assured Elaine. It was permissible to let him put his arms around her. Acceptable for him to map out the curves of her hips and waist over her day dresses when he kissed her.

Kisses, oh his kisses… now, those were new, exciting, and bizarrely addicting. A large hand cradling the base of her little noggin and the other wrapped around her waist, those kisses could be gentle or fierce, but they had her melting in his arms, awakening a deeper level of that hunger she’d first tasted when he had lifted her skirts and proclaimed her perfect.

He was still sore, deeply mourning his mama and wildly veering from joy to melancholy, an emotional rollercoaster she patiently rode alongside him. His entourage were not aware of their plans as yet, but already they accepted Elaine as a feature and a staple in his life. Miss Gladys haunted that place and seemed to arm the girl with authority and wisdom.

And Elvis clung to her like a lifeline, cuddling her and taking comfort in it, wrapping his body around hers like a giant child and sure, it caused Mr. Phipps to fret when he came across their intertwined bodies on the living room floor, but nothing objectionable was ever occurring, all hands quite visible and clothing buttoned primly. It was a gentle communion and he did not have the heart or moral high ground to disrupt it.

It was a lost cause, anyway, his baby girl was gonna get plucked in mere days, and he trusted Elvis to be right about it, kind about it, wait for the proper time. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a shock to have a man stuff himself inside her if he’d held her hand first.

So, without even speaking, the men in her life came to an agreement and Elvis clung to her a little harder and longer as the days went by, standing in the kitchen, sitting on the piano bench, laying on the couch, keeping her overnight as her father slept in the armchair just to keep up appearances.

“Elvis, son, you’ll be gentle with her, won’t ya?” Mr. Phipps couldn’t help himself from pleading as Elvis flopped next to him, worn out from spinning Elaine around to the suggestive lyrics of “The Girl Can’t Help It,/She Was Made to Squeeze”.

They’ve got a nice and private little shindig going on here at the old studio, a rehearsal dinner of sorts if they had bothered with a rehearsal. There’s been finger foods and music and laughter, the happiest he’s seen Elvis since Gladys passed. The young man was back in his civvies and he’s got some of the old carefree swagger in his step. He had doted on Elaine all evening. Watching him go over across the room to kiss her bashful lips in front of the crowd of friends and family, insisting to her she was family now—it had settled the panic Mr. Phipps felt growing in him as each subsequent night had marked one day closer to giving the girl away. That calm was unsettled by then watching Elvis twirl Elaine around, at arm's length so he could fully admire her figure as she spun, a reminder of the boy’s hunger. Miracles, as it turned out, were rather hard to come by on such short notice.

Mr. Phipps had no doubt Elvis was very good at… making it good. That was hardly a secret around town. It was just that good was very different from gentleness, from patient explanations while sitting on the bed with a clueless virgin. What he needed to know was, if he was gonna be passing the buck to her virulent young husband, Elvis must know it and swear to treat her innocence as the precious thing it was, not an embarrassing oversight in her education to be disposed of quickly and savagely.

“I’m gonna worship her, sir!” Elvis had sworn in response, not wasting breath or vanity in acting offended or embarrassed by the injunction.

Elvis Presley was a good boy, and an honest boy, Mr. Phipps reminded himself. She could do much worse.

So Mr. Phipps let it rest. He comforted himself that night—when he went up to bed, leaving them together on the porch swing—he comforted himself with thoughts of young people on desert islands who knew nothing but came to understand each other by the time of their rescue, of Adam and Eve and the command to have children, the way they had figured out how left to the fog of time.

Mr. Phipps would allow Elaine’s carnal education to run the same course.

Below him on the porch swing Elvis has Elaine snug in his lap, her legs folding over his own as his feet push against the peeling porch boards to propel the bench swing to move. Back and forth, back and forth in the cozy veil of night, his large hands interlocked over her belly a steadying weight and the sway of it makes her ache strangely and wiggle atop his thighs.

When she isn’t at Graceland with him, he is here with her, his motorbike hidden in the garage and the dead honeysuckle vines draping up the porch, their screen from the outside world. It’s too cold for fireflies or cicadas, but the wind makes a tinkling choke of the swing chains and Elvis’ frozen nose sniffles softly in her ear. He has wrapped his oversized coat around them both and buttoned her up in it with him like a baby kangaroo, much to her delight. It’s a furnace in the fleece-lined haven and her legs are chilled beneath the thin fabric of her dress but neither can make a move, it would invite a chill and they just got warmed up and a little sweaty, his lips smooching her neck and his cheek pressed to hers.

Besides, despite the late hour they’ve no desire to part and Elaine is regaling him with details of her machinations to combine their lives without alerting the general public. It’s a full on special service style operation and he finds he loves this side to her more than he ever realized. Watching her run the March of Dimes was one thing, witnessing her play cat and mouse with the Colonel is hella funnier still—and alarmingly sexy. The fact she’s doing this for them, dodging, scheming, bribing and finagling all so he can have the private wedding he longed for… it hits the spot and he finds himself holding her closer, the rocking of the swing speeding up as her story progresses, a tale of lying to caterers about the need for cake at Graceland.

She had told them it was Dodger’s birthday, the day after tomorrow, and she wanted “forever and always” in icing piped to celebrate turning seventy. Elvis can’t stop his giggles which spurs her on to more dramatic tellings, and he can’t stop swinging the swing and making them rub against each other, his loose trousers strained as his throbbing cock innocuously wedges itself between the globes of her ass. Elaine can feel the thump thump thump of his heartbeat down there, matching the way hers is always bounding these days, worse when the butterflies hit her belly or his kisses melt her insides. She can feel the pulse of him down there, and there’s a funny little twitch occasionally when his feet shove off the porch just right, it drags against her lil house just so, and her story suffers from the momentary jolt of pleasure.

These lapses of clarity are happening more often in his company, his kisses wipe her active mind blank in a way she craves, like sleep to the insomniac. Such helpless responses of her body to his have felt natural since he first rocked her to sleep, now they are lawful, too. She has logistics and a future to worry about, the way he makes her shudder and gasp from a lick or press is not of consequence.

“I told the fella that Fettucini Carbonara isn’t the same without bacon bu—Elvis?” his hands had begun to clutch her belly, fingertips digging into the plush curve of her achy womb and his breaths were tumbling out quick and urgent against her neck, a reaction entirely unwarranted by the story. “Elvis?” she repeated, sensing something building, though she didn’t know what.

It’s funny, Elvis is thinking, one never knows what a person will be like in bed until you’re, well, in bed with them. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have clues. And he’s done his fair share of detective work and then proof proving in his time with women.

Elaine has taken up more of his curiosity than anyone before or after he first began to think of her that way. From her athleticism and vigorous competitiveness he can assume she has stamina, her curiosity and lack of judgment indicates a propensity to experiment, her selflessness suggests she would be generous and eager to please but it’s her… craftiness… that makes him shudder now, that strong capability he always liked about her, but is now taking an edge that makes him think of laying beneath her and being used up himself. The fantasy has never veered this direction before but it hits him sticky, searing and potent, even as he shudders through it, hips jerking up to the rhythm of the all consuming thought -use me use me use me, Elaine, use me for your clever purposes—

“Elvis?” much softer this time, her tone is unmistakably concerned, as it should be with him limply shuddering behind her and a wet patch forming between them. “What’s goin’ on, darling?” her hand, that was occupied inside the jacket spinning her large new diamond ring, snakes down to his thigh and rubs it solicitously, unintentionally extracting a last little sputter out of him as he sucks in the chilly night air like he’d been cut down from the gallows.

These past few weeks she’s dealt with his moods and snot and that clammy, sweaty way he gets when worked up, never once flinching or so much as grimacing over it, used to children and hospital work, bodily functions have little power to disgust her. But he reckons that wetting the back of her skirt might be the thing that pushes the envelope, and he thinks he should explain, explain he didn’t just piss himself or half die on her but all he can think in his hazy post-release haze is to mumble

“I love you.”

against her neck, ardent and boyishly certain despite his awareness she won’t, can’t say it back just yet.

“Oh, E,” she whispers, turning her face to him, her nose cold as it nuzzles his cheek sweetly even as she probably thinks he just soiled himself, “Are you alright? What can I do?”

That’s her version of “I love you” and it’s one he’s happy with, now his mama is not there to say it, Elaine must and she never fails to.

“M’alright,” his mouth is dry and his brain is jelly and he can feel his mess growing sticky and cold where its excess drips down his pant leg, he wants to never let her go or he’ll get similarly cold all over, “I jus’ got excited, s’all.” he mumble into her ear and she listens intently, always curious, always eager to learn.

“Excited?” she repeats in a whisper, as if alone on the porch, hidden by the inky blankets of midnight she can preserve his dignity with a whisper, “So that’s not—what were you excited by?”

She changes course midway through her sentence and his drugged mind suggests now might be a great time to talk about sex but this whole arrangement it tenuous enough as is, he can’t bear to spook her with the mechanics and details until she can’t back out, ‘till the law says she’s lawfully his to keep and use, not until she’d have a mound of divorce papers ahead if she doesn’t like that concept of them joining. He has a smug feeling that even if she pursued a separation initially, he could make her like it, bring her around to the idea before she filled out more than two pages. It’ll keep.

“Was ‘cited by you.” he answers truthfully, “by bein’ with you, always makes me happy.” and that’s not a lie, not at all, his heart and his soul and his body cleave to her and adjust themselves to her presence like sunflowers to the sun.

“Oh.” she sounds so pleased, even as her eyebrows are drawn together with the weight of so much knowledge just out of reach.

It’ll keep her up tonight if he knows her, thoughts and confusions and he contemplates reaching beneath her skirt and stroking the ache he prays is there for him to soothe. But that seems risky, too. Day after tomorrow, he can do anything he damn well likes to her. And he’s got a laundry list, it’ll keep. He worries at that thought like his guitar strap. It’ll keep, it’ll keep.

“Ya know how you get damp down there when you’re excited?” he figures this tiny part of the lesson won’t harm anything.

She jolts in his lap and gasps like she’s been caught with her hand down the cookie jar, and if the light were better he knows he’d find her blushing like mad. “H-how’d you know?” she hisses urgently and he’s smug as hell she has no shame to ask him, that he’s the one she wants to learn from.

He wants to laugh but forces himself not to, even if his lips keep trembling in a happy smirk, “Oh baby, it’s natural, jus’ a natural way of your engine revvin’ up. Figured a healthy girl like you—gotta be real slick sometimes, waitin’ to get used.”

“Used?”

“Like the ache ya told me ‘bout,” he deflects, “it’s there to help ya grow those babies. I saw ya glistenin’ when I checked ya house, ‘member?” he prods and she begins to relax in his lap as facts slot into place in her mind, his brand of logic taking root. He pets her belly again, hoping it makes her ache worse, trying to recall her own terminology about this to use against her, “And that’s how ya know you work with someone, if they warm your engine, get ya drippin, means they excite ya.”

Elaine thinks of the night he crashed her date, driving her home and bullying her in the car with sensations and emotions she’d never felt before, and then in the kitchen as he backed her against the stove, delighting in making her uncomfortable. His whole act had been alarmingly purposeful despite his protestations of loyalty to his girls. She knew then he wasn’t playing, or not to the degree he said he was, and now she knows why. It wasn’t a lack of being comfortable with each other, it was suppressed excitement.

She excited him, and he had excited her.

But back then it had been wrong. It wasn’t right to excite someone you’re not gonna marry, not right or not even possible, she’s unsure which. Maybe that’s the problem everyone has with Elvis, he excites girls—a nation's worth—that he’s not gonna marry. She huffs out a relieved prayer of gratitude that he’s gonna marry her and she doesn’t have to be sorry for or fight against this feeling for the rest of her life, that all those nights of wedging a pillow between her legs and begging for that ache to burst were out of loyalty to the man ordained for her.

She nestles back against him contended, even as she wonders at the sheer amount of his excitement soaking her backside and making her dress cling to her. “I’m glad.” she whispers with a wide grin on her face as she stares up at the porch’s beams, “I’m glad I excite you, Elvis.”

Upstairs, as he tosses in his sleep, Mr. Phipps hears the chains of the porch swing resume their creaking rhythm again. He doesn’t recall when the rocking grind had stopped.

#elvis fanfiction #Sarge and lil mama #the great conspiracy of ‘58 #elvis one shot #elvis x you #austin butler elvis #elvis the king #elvis fic #elvis imagine #austin elvis imagine #elvis fanfic #elvis x reader #elvis x oc #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis x y/n #elvis x elaine

200 notes · View notes

burninlovebutler · 2 years

Text

Masterlist🦋💫

~🚧i know this is messy rn pls ignore it is under construction 🚧~

-> Welcome to my Blog Introduction

ao3 - BurninLove

Wattpad - FaultInMyCodes

-> Worship (Secret Santa)* - Possessive-Obsessive!Austin x Fem!Reader

-> Candy Hearts ♡ (vday)* - Sub!Austin x DomFem!Reader

-> Camp Counselors - Pt. 1 + Pt. 2 - Austin x Fem!reader

-> Talkshow Host!Austin Headcanons

Bikeriders Asshole!Austin x Makeup Artist!Reader

-> Pt. 1 *

-> Pt. 2*

-> Pt. 3*

-> Pt. 4.1 *

**last updated; 04.30.23**

-> Pt. 4.2 [coming soon]

-> Pt. 5 [coming soon]

Just an Intern Spotify Playlist ⛓️🖤

𝙸 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚣𝚣𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙻𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘

Themes: friends to lovers, SLOW burn, ANGST, eventual smut, Austin x fem!oc, midsize oc, sad boi/addict aus, fluffy, semi-AU (indie actor austin)

Summary/Intro: Best friends since college, Austin and Elsie are each other's safety nets. Austin has secrets only Elsie knows, and Elsie has too many closet skeletons for Austin to count.

Austin battles internal demons since the death of his father, which caused a switch to flip that would change him forever. His father’s death happened 4 years ago but it still haunts him – in his mind and in little pills.

Elsie has a weakness for wicked, vile, abusive men. Her boyfriend, Nox, is the latest culprit. And Austin can’t fucking stand him.

Between trying to rescue each other and struggling to save themselves, is there something lying underneath?

18+ as this contains both smut & mature sensitive topics. Please check TWs for each chapter. General overarching warnings at the bottom of this post.

Since this is slow burn-ish so some themes/smut do not show up until later

Chapters containing smut that have * by their name

Forever Winter Spotify Playlist ❄️💞

FW Chapters:

01 - Has He Texted You?

02 - Dependency

03 - The Close Call Clause

04 - Not The First Time

05 - Fix-It Pancakes

06 - Cold Showers

07 - Giving In

08 - Of Course I Do

09 - Thanksgiving Pt. 1

10 - Thanksgiving Pt. 2

11 - Winter Break

12 - Truth or Dare

13 - Dressing Room Games

14 - Hot or Cold? *

15 - No Touching **

16 - When The Night Ends

17 - Do Not Disturb

18 - Nothing There

19 - Not Even For A Second

20 - I Know You’re Lying

21 - Blue M&Ms

22 - Christmas - Pt. 1 - (ft. The Grinch)

23 - Christmas - Pt. 2 - Comeback Special**

24 - Ski Slopes**

25 - New Years Eve (Pt. 1) - Til You Come Back for More*

26 - New Years (Pt. 2) - Say It Again**

27 - The First Close Call

28 - Temporary Fix*

29 - Be My Mistake*

30 - It's Not Living (If It's Not With You)

31 - Mr. Percocet

32 - [TBA - coming soon]

**last updated 05.31.23**

[more chapters to be announced lol]

Author’s Notes:

Each chapter will contain a related song suggestion and matching lyrics. I highly recommend listening to each song as they beautifully mesh with the themes of each individual chapter.

Austin/Elvis yanked me from fanfic retirement so when I started writing FW, I fell in love with the characters & the storyline. I’m posting here so that maybe others can fall in love with them too.

I haven’t written in a while so sorry if it’s a little rusty, especially in the first couple chapters.

This post ended up being really long so sorry if it was a lot, thank you if you made it this far.

I hope you love it, please let me know if you do.

475 notes · View notes

vaquero-azul-art · 14 hours

Text

My partner @chaotic-zora is obsessed with Zora's and they love receiving gifts and fanart, so most of these are little surprises I've given them. I have a lot of square watercolor paper I haven't used in years so I've been making Zora portraits with it. Bottom right OC "Rowan" belongs to @chaotic-zora

#zora #zora oc #zora may #prince sidon #sidon #totk sidon #sidlink #baz #totk baz #gaddison #king dorephan

18 notes · View notes

golyadkin · 5 months

Text

A wound for a wound

#endless mouth #oc's #baz #julian #blood //#art tag #the more art i do for this the more it looks like he's a vampire but i promise you he's not #it's much more fucked up than that

39 notes · View notes

thataestheticpersons-blog · 1 year

Text

I hyperfixiate too much on fictional queer idiots

#henry montague #the gentlemans guide to vice and virtue #percy x monty #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #baz and simon #jeeves and wooster #bertie wooster #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #yes they are all queer you cant change my mind #especially my oc’s #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex diaz #firstprince #fuck jk rowling #fuck jkr #anti jkr

106 notes · View notes

foreverdolly · 2 years

Text

would it be a sin? | austin butler x fempresley!oc

part one

pairings: austin butler x fem!oc

word count: 3,422

summary: austin is over the moon about getting the lead role in the up and coming elvis biopic, but he's beginning to buckle under the immense pressure. there's a fine line that had to be drawn between himself and elvis presley, but it's beginning to blur as the days go by. when austin is introduced to lisa-marie's daughter, it's love at first sight. he's terrified of blending work with pleasure, but it's getting impossible to deny his heart.

warnings: mild cursing and fluff- the mouthwatering smut comes later.

notes:i wanted to start this first chapter off by saying that all of this is a work of fiction. i will be talking about things that are personal to both austin butler as well as the presley family, but i will be doing it with the utmost respect. this first chapter is tame, but there will be smut as well as the mention of the loss of family members through unfortunate circumstances in future chapters. the topics of drug use and death will not be romanticized or sensationalized in any way. if you have any requests for one shots for austin!elvis or austin butler x reader, please feel free to ask!

masterlist | requests are currently open for business !

Austin, most days, no longer felt like himself. It was hard to differentiate where Austin started and Elvis began. Over the months of nonstop research and dedication, the two of them melded together somehow. Who was who? He didn’t know anymore. Couldn’t really remember, either.

Austin wasn’t just playing a part in a film anymore. It felt too real. Too dangerous. It was bound to all get worse before it got better. When Baz officially calls it all a wrap and shuts off the cameras for good, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He was already flailing, trying to get a grip on things. . . on life. His long term relationship of nine years had ended towards the very beginning of the project. He had just cut and dyed his hair and had thrown himself into his art. Maybe it was his fault that things ended, but he didn’t regret it. Not even for an instant; no matter how horrible that may sound. Working on the movie had made it an easy transition from living everyday life with a long term partner to suddenly being single and alone. He had hidden himself away in his new flat in Australia. Due to Covid he rarely had any visitors. He had been able to sort out his own feelings back then. He took the time to really sort through his emotions and wrap his head around things.

His ex had been a major part of his life. She had helped to mold and shape him into the man that he was today. Austin had learned what he liked and didn’t like in a relationship. He learned how to be patient and how to properly care for a woman. She would always be an essential part of who he was- but as a building block. She had been an essential stepping stone. That first relationship had acted as his training wheels- but Austin knew how to ride now- so it was natural for him to take them off. So he had.

He mourned the relationship for a few short days, but the tears didn’t last for very long. He had ripped off the band-aid, and there was something oddly cathartic about it all. He felt better than he really had in years, and it was because things felt right. He had been resolute in his decision, and though he knew that it had been painful for her, she had agreed with him on all points. All that they had ever known was each other, and towards the five year mark, that had been the only thing that really kept them together. Familiarity and comfortability had been the glue that kept them stuck in that odd state of limbo. Austin stopped thinking about marriage and children as the years ticked by with her. He had stopped planning out their future. Instead they seemed to live day by day, making excuses to themselves and loved ones whenever anyone pried or if they tried to do any serious soul searching.

The call where he had ended things had only lasted fifteen minutes and thirty-nine seconds. He had kept things simple- sugar coated some things so that they would be easier for her to digest- and waited for her reaction. There had been tears. He could hear them, but she understood. He could tell that she agreed, and maybe that had been the hardest part of it all for her. The realization that they had been clinging onto each other for dear life, all while knowing that they weren’t the ones for each other. Change was a terrifying thing, and so they had ignored their own feelings and desires, hoping that eventually it would fade out.

Austin’s true feelings never flickered out though. They had stayed, and with it came the doubt. Then the decision.

He had told himself that he wouldn’t date for a while. He needed to dive head first into his project, and he couldn’t have any distractions. For a time that was exactly what he had done. He had put so much pressure on himself to do well that he found it hard to think of much else. He lived and breathed Elvis. For four long months there hadn’t been much else. It had been a lot to get used to for his friends and family. For the first couple of weeks, his sudden change of accent had been shocking for them. His father had been the most worried about it. He was scared about what would happen after they finished everything. Austin had assured everyone that he wanted the accent to feel natural to him, and that he had just chosen to take a more method approach so that he could fully immerse himself into the project.

These days, he had trouble remembering what he sounded like before they started filming. That was terrifying. He felt his grip on reality shifting. He was losing an uphill battle, because if he was going to be completely honest with himself, his mental health had never been all that great.

It was the day after that self realization that he had sought out personal advice, going to Tom Hanks in the hopes that he’d help to ground him. The man’s words had been simple, yet crucial. He needed to take time for himself. Not Elvis. Austin.

Austin had ordered a book later that night that reminded him of his years in high school. He had been forced to read it for an essay, but had found himself unable to put it down. Every night that week he curled up on the couch and read The Great Gatsby. Instead of feeling like somebody else completely, in those moments he only felt nostalgic. The line between Austin and Elvis had slowly been carved, no matter how faint.

But then she came along.

It had been a regular day on set, and a particularly hard one at that. After all of the karate lessons, dialect coaching, and dance classes the man was absolutely exhausted. He didn’t have too much left in him to give that day, and he was excited to crawl back home and fall asleep under his weighted blanket. He had moved to stand behind the camera, one of the crew member’s playing a scene back for him so that he could see exactly where he had gone wrong. Rather than moving his hips while he performed, he had been using his knees instead. He was hurting badly because of it, and it didn’t look the same. It didn’t look right. His mood had soured instantly, his blue eyes narrowing on the small screen as he took a step closer, watching his footing again and again. “Play that back one more time for me.” The crew member started to wind the shot back, but Baz had stepped in, his arm wrapped tightly around an unfamiliar figure. Austin was in no mood to meet anyone or exchange niceties with any of the extras. Not today at least. Today he was feeling majorly self conscious, and it was bleeding into his attitude.

“We’re about to wrap up for the day, so I wanted you to meet someone.” Austin wanted to groan. To ruffle his greased up hair and throw an absolute fit. The entire Presley family were eventually going to see the film, and he was letting them down, he just knew it. He was letting everybody down by this performance. How the hell was he supposed to smile and play nice? Austin turned on his heel, wishing that he had mastered the art of the fake smile over the years he had spent in Hollywood. He was good at acting, but he had the inability to be fake.

He turned on his heel, shoving his hands into the pockets of his blue slacks before eying Baz. The older man gently pushed the mystery woman forward, motioning with his head in her direction. Austin let his eyes focus on her in the dim studio lighting. He found himself instantly regretting everything. His initial expression, his inability to properly execute today’s scenes, the fact that he had eaten garlic hummus with his lunch that day- all of it.

Oh god, it was almost as though the world had shifted beneath his feet. His heart jumped up into his throat, his hands began to sweat, and he found it nearly impossible to function. All words escaped him. The only thing that left his lips for the first few seconds was a breathy huff, his blue eyes locking on her small figure. She was short and compact, daintily made in a way that made his protective instincts flare. Her hair was dark against the bright colors of her dress, the contrast a bit shocking. The first thing he noticed were her large eyes- so bright and so very blue. Then she smiled at him. The words weren’t the only thing to escape him. So had the ability to breathe. If Baz noticed the man’s reaction, he didn’t say anything. Instead he took the opportunity to fill the silence, gesturing between the two of them.

“Austin, this is Elliot. She wasn’t able to meet you back when we had the original luncheon with the rest of her family.” His reaction was delayed as he tried to piece together exactly what his director was trying to say.

It wasn’t until she reached her hand out towards him that it finally registered. “You’re related to Priscilla then?” He felt stupid the second the question left his lips, and he couldn’t help but smile nervously as he reached out and took her small hand in his, giving it a couple of shakes.

Thankfully she found humor in his reaction and laughed, and though the busy studio overshadowed the gorgeous sound, it reverberated in his ears nonetheless. “I’m one of her granddaughters. Lisa-Marie is my mother.” Austin’s eyes really honed in on each one of her dainty features. Her small pointed nose, her warm smile and bright blue eyes. He felt embarrassed that he didn’t instantly recognize her. It was almost as though he was shaking hands with Priscilla back when she was in her twenties. The resemblance was uncanny.

“That’s it for today people! You all did great!” Baz called out, the bright lights shutting off loudly as the cameras were moved out of position. Elliot stumbled out of the way, moving to Austin’s side so that extras could begin making their way off stage and to the dressing rooms. She lingered by his side, her arm gently brushing against his as cast and crew filed past. A few people looked in their direction, staring a little too long as they tried to decipher just who she was and what they were doing together. “I got here about thirty minutes ago, so I saw the last few takes.” She explained.

Austin pinched the bridge of his nose, his cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. Of course she just so happened to show up today of all days. He had been off of his game all day long. “You were dazzling.” His eyes flickered open so that he could stare down at her, his mascara coated lashes brushing against his brow bone as he watched her expression carefully. He raised an eyebrow dubiously at her, completely unbelieving of the sweet sentiment. She threw her hands up in surrender, her smile widening.

“No, no. I’m serious, Austin. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. It was surreal.” He had been getting a lot of positive feedback as of late, but he still wasn’t used to it. He couldn’t keep the grin off of his face as he stared down at his feet, raising his hand so that he could nervously rub at the back of his neck.

“Well that means a lot comin’ from you.” He felt like an idiot talking to her in the accent, but he was already neck deep in it. He was positive that he couldn’t turn the voice off even if he tried.

“Baz is incredibly proud of you, by the way. He kept telling me about how dedicated you are to playing this part, and it really shows.” Elliot would never know how much her words meant to him. Today, of all days, he really needed to hear those things.

The fear of getting it all wrong kept him up most nights. Last night had been incredibly hard for him. The anxiety was eating him alive. He hadn’t even been able to keep down his breakfast this morning, his nerves getting the best of him. “One of my grandfather’s biggest fears was people dehumanizing him. Everyone has turned him into more of a character and less of a man. He wanted to do something important with his life- make an impact, you know? Your performance felt human.” The woman was quick to reach out, placing her warm palm against his sleeve. Her fingers wrapped around his arm, giving him a few quick squeezes. Austin wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure him or comfort him. Either way, she was handling him with a sort of softness that he wasn’t used to.

The actor could listen to her talk all day, he was positive. There was something about her voice that made his muscles untense and his mind quiet. It was soft and melodic, and if it wasn’t the kindness in her eyes that made him melt, then it was certainly the gentle way that she spoke to him that did the trick. Austin was certain that his knees were quivering beneath him. “I want to pick your brain,” He spoke up before he had time to second guess himself. “Would you like to have dinner with me? If you have other plans, I completely understand. Just thought it would be nice, is all.”

The girl shook her head, her dark locks falling off of her shoulders with the movement. For a second he was scared that he was being rejected, but she motioned towards the door with a sweep of her hand. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.” He let out a sigh of relief, a nervous laugh bubbling up and out of his throat soon after.

“Just let me go get changed, okay? It will only take a minute.” He had to remind himself not to run through the studio, his heart pounding in his ears as he closed the door firmly behind him. He had been terrified out of his mind whenever he had met Priscilla and Lisa-Marie for the first time. He had called Baz the night before, hoping for some sort of guidance. The director had become more of a mentor over the last couple of months, and he was hoping for some kind of a pick-me-up. Despite his constant words of nonchalance and encouragement, the anxiety lingered. He carried it in the pit of his stomach the next afternoon, and it didn’t ease throughout the entire luncheon. Austin wasn’t quite sure how he had managed to eat, but he had scarfed down way more than he was used to consuming. He went home with sweaty palms, an overactive imagination, and a stomach that was packed to full capacity. This felt oddly similar, but different at the same time.

This wasn’t a date, but Austin couldn’t seem to get the point across to the rest of his body. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath, reaching for the hanger so that he could neatly begin taking off the outfit. He took the time to make sure that everything was hung up to Catherine’s liking before grabbing his leather duffle bag, pulling on his clothes like a mad man. He had worn a pair of light washed jeans and his favorite pair of brown boots to the studio this morning. He had spilled coffee on his shirt early in the afternoon, so Catherine had given him a spare white tee to wear home. He made a mental note to thank her whenever he saw her in the morning. Clearing his throat he moved closer to the mirror, taking a look at his hair that had been slicked back hours ago. He ran his fingers through it, trying his hardest to disarrange the hairstyle, but it only made his hair look dirty. With an exasperated groan he used his fingers to put it back into place, taking a step back to look at the eyeliner that had been dragged over his top lash line. He had half the mind to try and rub it off as well, but he knew that he’d only make himself look like a raccoon, what with the mascara on his top and bottom lashes.

This entire situation was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. Here he was, giddy over the potential of getting to know her better, all while dressed like her grandfather. The humor of the situation was lost on him. Instead he rubbed his large hands down his cheeks, letting out an aggravated groan. He felt like he was in high school all over again. He hadn’t been this nervous about a girl in. . . well. . . - now that he thought about it, had he ever been this nervous over a girl? He hadn’t been single since he was twenty-one. He had been fresh out of high school, and the only dates he had been on prior to his ex had been double dates that his guy friends had coerced him into. He was nearly thirty years old, acting as though he was still in his twenties. He felt ashamed.

Austin braced either of his hands on the dressing room counter, staring up at himself through his lashes. He had rather liked the dyed black hair, but he suddenly felt ridiculous standing there in the mirror. He had to go ahead and set himself up for disappointment. If he didn’t try, then there would be no chance of rejection. He needed to go ahead and dash whatever fantasies were floating around in his brain before they got the better of him, because how embarrassing would that make things for him? He wouldn’t just be friendzoned, he would be grandpa-zoned. Elliot saw him as one of the men tasked with telling her family’s tragic story. This was important to her, he could tell. This dinner was going to be nothing more than two potential friends talking with one another. It was going to be a great opportunity for him to hear rather intimate stories about the legend, passed down to her by the only woman that really knew the true Elvis. After a few deep breaths he stood up, brushing his hands over his shirt a few times before heading out the door. The overhead studio lights had been turned back on, a few of the crew members still lingering around as they taped wires to the floor, readjusted certain lights, and readied themselves for tomorrow's busy schedule.

Elliot’s back was to him, so he took the opportunity to get a better look at her. Her dress was a seventies style slip dress that brushed against her upper thighs. Her short dress and calf high boots made her look a lot taller than she really was from where he was standing. Of course he had seen her up close, and knew that she was well below his chin. Both her mother and grandmother were on the shorter side, so he wasn’t surprised. Her hair, which he hadn’t gotten a very good look at when the two had first been introduced, was incredibly long. It cascaded down her back in loose waves, ending right at her hips. Austin didn’t allow himself to stare at her for too long, not wanting to get carried away. ‘Friends’, he reminded himself as he walked up to her. “Elliot,” He called her name to get her attention, his eyebrows furrowing when he noticed that there was something in her hand. She turned her head to face him, grinning ear to ear as she flashed him a pair of ivory white panties. She had her fingers looped into the waistband, and it didn’t take him long to figure out that she had stumbled across the prop by accident. She must have been laughing to herself for a little while. Her cheeks were slightly red from smiling. “Nice.” She said simply, tossing them into one of the crew member’s folding chairs before nodding her head towards the door. “Shall we? I’m starving.”

582 notes · View notes

mirykka · 4 months

Text

this bunny says woof

#its baz!!! my partners oc #its a redraw of an old piece and some sketches #digital art #artists on tumblr #digital drawing #original character #myart/#oc #oc artist #original character art

24 notes · View notes

pxnsneverland · 1 year

Text

Beauty and the Boss | austin!elvis x oc (part 9)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana’s most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he’s just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she’s on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 1845

warnings/notes: Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since I posted a part, but I finally got some time today :)

Chapter 9

The funeral of Gladys passed in a blur, and before we knew it, the wake was upon us. A steady stream of visitors flowed in and out of the house, all eager to pay their respects to the departed soul lying in the casket. It was a somber sight, made all the more poignant by the fact that it now occupied the very spot where Elvis's grand piano once stood. Beyond the threshold, amidst the ebb and flow of visitors, a throng of journalists and the flicker of camera bulbs stood poised, anticipating Elvis' emergence and any utterance he might offer. The dogs were ravenous, and they seemed intent on exploiting his grief. In the interim, Elvis had not crossed my path since our return from the church. He vanished up the stairs, never to return. I empathized with the agony he was experiencing and yearned to offer solace with my words. However, I was aware that words would be futile in this situation. The death of my mother continued to linger in my mind even after all these years, and it was not an unexpected heart attack like Ms. Gladys.

Perched upon the plush velvet carpeting of the steps, I observed the bustling crowd from a safe vantage point. I was disinclined to respond to inquiries or receive expressions of sympathy that were rightfully intended for Elvis. The memory of Mama's funeral flooded back to me, overwhelming my senses. Hollow utterances emanating from individuals who lacked sincerity in their speech. It was precisely the phrase one utters to console those who have suffered the loss of a cherished person. Their assistance fell short of your expectations. With a firm grasp on the hem of my black dress, I attempted to free myself from the labyrinth of my own thoughts. I found myself being pulled into a recollection that I had no desire to revisit. I felt a sense of gratitude as Colonel descended the stairs, his expression conveying more than just dissatisfaction.

The Colonel grumbled, “He won’t come out of that closet.” Though he averted his gaze, I sensed that his words were directed towards me. He leaned against the wall adjacent to my position. “There are some fine folks from the press waiting outside. A few questions, pictures, and they will leave us alone.”

With a cool gaze, I observed him closely, and his subtle response indicated that he was aware of my piercing stare. “You want him to go talk to the reporters? After his Mama just died? The person he was closest to in the world?”

“I know, I know.” The insincere tone of his voice sent shivers down my spine. “He trusted her like nobody else, and now she’s gone and who does he have now?” He finally looked at me.

“You’ve picked the wrong person for an ally, Colonel. I ain’t forcin’ him to go talk to nobody.”

“No, no. That’s not…that’s not what I meant. I care about my boy whether you believe that or not, Ms. Walker. I tried talking to him but it’s really not my place. You, however, have his heart perhaps just as much as his dear Mama did. He trusts you. Despite our differences, you and I, we have one thing in common. We want what is best for that boy. And today, you are what is best.”

The art of deception is often employed by conmen, who skillfully blend elements of truth with their own ulterior motives. The art of perception was a skill passed on by my father, and it allowed me to easily discern the true intentions of the Colonel. Perhaps his interest in Elvis was genuine, but it was overshadowed by his preoccupation with his own celebrity and public persona. As the reporters continued to exploit Elvis's sorrow, the Colonel's pockets grew increasingly lined with cash. Despite the presence of the man standing next to me, my adoration for Elvis remained paramount. I rose to my feet, delicately smoothing out the fabric of my skirt.

“I’m not makin’ him come down if he don’t want to,” I declared, preceding my ascent up the stairs towards the room that was once occupied by Gladys.

Not a single thing had been disturbed since her passing. The room appeared to be suspended in time, a poignant tribute to a person who would never again occupy its space. The faint sound of Elvis's subdued weeping emanated from the depths of her closet. I advanced cautiously, mindful of the potential for startling him. My trepidation stemmed from a fear that he might bolt from my presence, much like a skittish cat. The door of the closet was slightly ajar, allowing a breath of fresh air to seep through. With a hesitant hand, I gradually pushed the closet door ajar. Inside, I was met with a heart-wrenching sight - Elvis was seated on the floor, his thin frame huddled amidst his Mama's dresses. Tears streamed down his face, his sobs wracking his entire body with each passing moment. He stole a quick glance in my direction before turning away, pressing his cheek against the soft fabric of a dress.

I lowered myself onto the ground, maintaining a safe distance from him, as I positioned myself directly in front of him. “Hi, baby.”

“She’s gone…”

“I know. But all your friends and family…they’re wonderin’ where you are.”

A deep sob escaped his lips. “I can’t go out there, Laura Jean. I can’t. I just want to stay in here forever.” Tears streamed down his face as he buried it into the soft fabric of the dress's skirt.

My heart shattered into even smaller pieces for him than it had for myself when I experienced the same misfortune. With a deep breath, I closed the distance between us and enveloped him in a warm embrace, my arms encircling his broad shoulders. He maintained his grip on the garments, yet refrained from deterring me. “I know how you feel. When my Mama died, all I wanted to do was crawl into the ground with her. I felt like my whole world was in pieces and the person who usually picked them up wasn’t there anymore.” I gently massaged his back. “No one could ever replace her. Why, Ms. Gladys was a one-of-a-kind woman who raised a one-of-a-kind son. I wish I could be half as strong as she was some day.”

Elvis buried his head in my shoulder and embraced me with such force that it became difficult to catch my breath. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without her. She was everythin’. All this…all this was for her.”

My fingers glided through his hair. “You cry now. You cry your little heart out for as long as you need to. And day by day, you just keep on movin’, keep on livin’. Cause that’s what your Mama would have wanted. For you to live your life as fully and as happily as you can.” I gently pressed my lips against his forehead. “And I’ll be here for you, too. Whenever you need me. I’ll work and I’ll worry in your Mama’s place. Okay?” With a nod, he buried his face deeper into my shoulder. To hold him felt like I was holding a baby who was twice my size. Gradually, I rose to my feet, pulling him up alongside me until we were both standing upright. With a gentle touch, I wiped away the tears that had gathered on his face, my fingers softly caressing his cheek. “Now we’re gonna go downstairs and you’re gonna go say goodbye to your Mama.”

With a sniffle, Elvis enfolded me in a warm embrace, pressing my head against his chest. He clasped my head firmly, as if he feared that I might vanish into thin air. All the while, I listened intently to the rhythmic thumping of his heart. “I ain’t never gonna let anyone take you away from me, you hear? Not your Daddy, not the Colonel, no one. I don’t care about money or stupid mafia business. I just care about you.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” I vowed.

With tears streaming down his face, he whispered, “I love you, Laura Jean.”

“I love you too.” I grasped his hand firmly and led him out of the bedroom, descending the stairs in unison. Silence fell over the room as Elvis made his way towards the open casket of Gladys. No expense had been spared for her funeral, from the casket to the flower arrangements and every detail in between. As I gazed upon her, she appeared serene and undisturbed, nestled within the soft and luxurious velvet that lined the interior of the casket. Elvis gazed intently at her, his grip on my hand unyielding. He parted his lips, as if to utter words to her, but they were abruptly stifled by a wrenching sob. I rested my head upon his shoulder.

The Colonel shuffled up behind us and placed a hand on Elvis's shoulder. “I can’t even begin to understand what you are going through, my boy. But you have comforted your friend and your family. You need to go comfort your fans too, hmm? They are worried about you. And if you don’t go do that all that your mama sacrificed for you will be for nothing.”

The desire to expel acid from my mouth consumed me. Using Elvis at this time? How could he? He was in no position to have a conversation with anyone. He needed the freedom to simply exist as a young man who had suffered the loss of his mother, rather than being burdened with the weighty expectations of embodying the iconic figure of Elvis Presley. In spite of my innermost insults directed towards Colonel Parker, Elvis gravitated towards him and sought solace in his embrace, shedding tears upon his shoulder. I yearned to persuade him that the presence of the elderly gentleman was superfluous. The Colonel hesitantly rubbed Elvis's back.

“You stay with my through thick and thin, okay?” he asked, his eyes searching for reassurance. Elvis expressed, “You’re like a father to me.”

My eyes locked onto the Colonel's, and he met my gaze with a smug expression that made me itch to wipe it off his face. Despite my constant challenges, he relished the sense of power he wielded over Elvis. I persisted in my efforts to liberate Elvis from the clutches of the snowman, refusing to give up until my mission was accomplished. As Elvis withdrew, the Colonel offered a reassuring pat on his shoulder. “Just a few questions and some photos and we will be done.”

“C-Can Laura Jean come with me?” Elvis sniffled.

The Colonel's gaze met mine, but I refused to back down, my expression daring him to confront me. I was determined not to leave Elvis, even if he forbade my presence. He let out a deep sigh and replied, “Of course. You need her now.”

With a nod, I followed Elvis as he led me through the throng of microphones and cameras outside.

Stay tuned for part 10!! Click HERE to view!

94 notes · View notes