#austin theory smut

[aalyssah]

Thirsty

Pairing: Austin Theory x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Choking, Degradation, Fingering, Hair Pulling, Praise, Protected Sex, and Quickie. Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 2438

Summary: When sunbathing outside, your brothers best friend, Austin, thinks it's a good idea to cannon ball in the pool, splashing water all over you and when you cry to your Dad, he is forced to help you clean up.

A/N: Austin is your Brothers Best Friend in this story. Hope You Enjoy!

The sun was beautiful outside when you woke up, and the weather was just as perfect.

You instantly made plans to get a tan, slipping your bikini on and going outside. You made your spot on a lounge chair, letting the sun soak up your body.

The door opened in your home with it being your brother and his friend Austin. "Alright man, I'm gonna go pick up my Mom from work. Dad's been planning a surprise party for her, so my Dad is here and Y/n's probably at the pool, since 'It's a good day outside.'" Grayson said, imitating your voice at the end.

Austin chuckled, watching as his friend left the house and back into his car. He then made his way towards the backdoor, seeing you laying on the lounge chair.

He snuck up behind you, slowly tip-toeing until he got right behind you. "BOO!" You let out a scream, jumping out your chair, turning around only to see Austin. He was cackling up a storm at your reaction.

A frown came to your face as you put together that it was him who scared you. "You asshole! You scared me!" You yelled at him angrily. Austin wiped a tear away from his eye. "Oh man, and it was funny too!"

Your frown was permanent on your face. "I'm gonna tell my Dad, and we'll see who's laughing then." Austin rolled his eyes, sucking his teeth. "Of course you will." You cocked an eyebrow.

What did he mean by that?

"Well, my throat is kinda parched. Go be useful for once and fetch me a lemonade from the fridge." Austin jerked back a little, looking shocked at your demanding order.

He was gonna say something snarky, but if he had to deal with your Dad. He would never hear the end of it from you. "Fine. Bitch." He whispered the last word on his way to the fridge.

Who do you think you are, demanding him around when he's the guest? An idea came to his mind as he grabbed the pitcher and poured lemonade in a glass cup with ice. You're thirsty? He's gonna make sure your whole body is hydrated.

He came back out with the lemonade, handing it to you. "Here you go, my majesty." He joked, taking a bow. You snatched the glass out his hand, taking a long sip. "Thank you peasant, now run along."

Austin turned around, only going into the living room. He stripped from his shirt and pants, only leaving him in his boxers. Once again, he crept around with slow steps, watching you look up at the sun.

It was all quiet until he ran full speed, yelling, "Cannon ball!" You didn't have enough time to react and then you felt it. The cold water, splashing all over you. It felt like a bucket of water was literally dumped on you.

You gasped for air as you quickly sat up, wiping water from your eyes. "You did not." You said in an angry, but calm tone. Austin smiled as he got out of the pool. "I just did."

You opened your eyes, throwing him the most hateful look. "I can't believe you just did that!" Austin laughed, reaching to rub your shoulder soothingly.

"I was looking out for you. I thought you were thirsty since your body was sitting out in the sun all day." You shrugged his hand off your shoulder, an annoyed groan coming out your mouth. "Dad!" You yelled, stomping into the house.

Austin's eyes grew big as he watched you make your way towards the door. He rushed into action, grabbing your wrist, and pulling you into his chest. "Dad- mmm-"

Your voice got muffled as his hand came to your mouth to quiet you down. "Shh, please don't call him." You then bit his hand, earning a cry from him. "Ow! W-Why’d you do that?" He asked, looking down at his hand that began to turn red from your bite mark.

"You had your hand on my mouth! Why are you trying to stop me? I told you earlier that I would call my Dad. Did you think I was joking?" Austin let out a sigh, his head hanging low. "Alright, look I'm sorry, just don't call your Dad. He's gonna yell at me home, and then Grayson gonna be in my ass, and I'll be bored as fuck."

Now it was your turn to smirk. Now all of a sudden, the cocky Austin Theory was begging you not to call your Dad because he didn't want to get in trouble.

"Okay, I won't call my Dad, but on only one condition." Austin groaned, knowing that 'but' was coming. "You have to do everything I say for the rest of the day."

Austin rolled his eyes, knowing you were gonna say something like that. "You always wanna be in control, huh?" You giggled, picking up your sunglasses, and sitting back down in your lounge chair.

"Sure, now go fetch me some grapes, and feed them to me." Austin stood there, looking down at you in disbelief. "Are you serious?" He asked.

You pulled your sunglasses down, peeking at him from over the lenses. "Did I stutter? Now go, peasant!" Austin went back inside, going to the kitchen and getting some grapes before coming back out.

He picked up some grapes and held them up to your mouth. One by one, you ate each grape, a satisfied hum coming from you. "I'm done with those, get me my lemonade." Austin put the bag down on the table and gave you your lemonade.

You took small sips before handing it back to him. You sigh, sitting up in the chair. "I think I wanna take a dip." You stood up and walked to the pool. Austin watched you like a hawk as you slowly stepped in the water.

The bathing suit hugged your body just right. You looked really good and it took everything in him to not pounce on you, but he can't. You're his best friend's sister.

Austin tried to get in the pool with you, but you stopped him. "Uh, no sir, you're not allowed to get in. You better sit on the floor, and watch me swim." Austin didn't even try to argue this time as he took a seat on the hot floor.

He had to watch you swim for 20 minutes, eyes not leaving your body. It was then you finally got out, water dripping from your body.

You fixed your top as it started coming up in the water and Austin had to sniffle a groan. You walked right past him and into the living room. "Come on!" You called out and Austin got up to follow you into the house.

You ended up in the laundry room, hands on your hips as Austin looked at you, not knowing what to do. "Well?" Austin cocked an eyebrow. "Take this wet stuff off me, and put it in the machine." Austin gulped, looking at you.

Like said before, you're his best friend's sister. This is very appropriate and he doesn't think he'll be able to control himself if he sees you naked. It doesn't help that he's still in his boxers from earlier.

"Turn around." He ordered. He reached up and pulled the tied knot in your bikini top and it fell down. He then went for your bottoms, pulling at the knots on each side.

Now you were fully naked, but back still turned to him. "Get my clothes and put them in the machine, and then go upstairs and fetch-" Austin cut you off. He was done. "Y'know what, no! I'm tired of doing this and it's only been an hour, there's no way I'm gonna survive this for a whole day." You turned around to face him, breast swaying at your movement.

Austin's eyes were wide and trained on you. He tried so hard not to look down. He really did, but his eyes looked down at your breast and back up at you. That's when a smirk came to your face. "Oh, I see. You're distracted aren't you?" You chuckled.

"How about this? If you fuck me right here, right now, you can stop being my peasant, if not, I'll tell my Dad everything you did." Austin thought real hard and long about this deal. It was a win-win for him, but it's so wrong. You're his best friend's sister, that's all he could think about.

Something in him told himself to ignore that fact and he picked you up, setting you on top of the washing machine. You let out a surprised squeal, your hands cupping his cheeks. "I knew you wanted to-" Your sentence was cut off by Austin's lips roughly smacking on yours.

You moaned into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. Austin pulled back with a groan from the taste of you. Your lips were so sweet and he bet you tasted even sweeter.

Which is why he pulled your legs apart and ran his hand down your heat. "Fuck, you're so wet.” You whined at his touch, bucking your hips into his hand.

Austin chuckled at your needy reaction, a finger circling your entrance. "Can I?" You nodded, grabbing his wrist and pulling it closer. "Please." Austin slowly pushed his finger in, groaning at how tight you gripped his fingers.

"Oh fuck." You whined, letting your head fall back against the wall. Austin smirked, seeing your cunt suck up his finger and as he pulled it out, he could see the wetness drenching it. "God, you're so wet and I don't think it was from the pool."

Through your pleasurable expression, you gave him a glare which caused him to laugh. "I have a finger inside you and you're still giving me that glare." You wanted to argue back, call him names, or even threaten to call your Dad, but his finger, that damn finger was giving you pleasure.

His thumb came up and circled your clit, as his pace increased. Your legs clamped shut around his arm, a hand coming to your mouth. You couldn't be too loud. "Gotta stretch you out for me. Think you're ready now."

You whined when he pulled his finger out, sucking your juices off it with a hum. "Just as sweet as your lips taste." A blush came to your cheeks at his compliment.

He quickly pulled down his boxers, stroking himself while you reached over in the dirty clothes and searched through a pile of your Dad's jeans. You searched through his pockets and pulled out a condom.

Austin looked puzzled for a second. Were you planning this all along? "My Dad always forgets to check his pockets. And I know him and my Mom be fucking." You winked, Austin's eyes growing wide.

"Hey, they're only 38 and 40, whenever they can get some alone time is when they do it, and trust me, they have a lot of alone time." Austin chuckled, taking the condom out your hand and ripping it open with his teeth.

You watched as he rolled the condom in his cock, stroking it a couple of times. He then rubbed his tip against your entrance, teasing you. "Austin if you don't put it in I'm gonna-" You were cut off with a moan as his cock slowly pushed in you.

"What? You gonna tell your Dad?" Austin said in a teasing tone. He started off with slow thrusts, pushing his hips forward, watching as his cock disappeared inside you.

"You're so tight, and warm." He breathed out, grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer. "C'mere." You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

He was now skin to skin with you and god did it feel good. Your warm body and cunt squeezing around him so nicely.

He fucked you in a slow rhythm, making sure you felt every vein in his cock. "Austin-" You mewled, arms wrapping around his neck. Austin's head went to your neck to muffle his moans, placing small pepper kisses on your flesh.

You even felt him nibble which caused you to whine. "Austin, don't leave any marks. My Dad will kill me." You cried out, but your protests went deaf in his ears. He was too deep and focused on you and your pussy.

He hasn't seen you with many men so it really shouldn't be surprising that you're this tight. "God I don't know how long I'm gonna last. You're- you're gripping my cock so hard- fuck!" Austin groaned as you clenched down on him once more.

Your nails were raking up his back as his hips increased their pace. A small clapping sound was heard in the room as the washing machine shook and it wasn't even on.

His hand then reached in between your connected bodies and played with your clit, rubbing and punching at the sensitive bud. "Oh my god!" You cried out, hands gripping his hair as you came. Austin grunted, his balls tightening up.

The sound of footsteps were missed in your hearing, but the knock on the door. "Sweetheart, you okay in there?" It was your Dad.

You felt Austin tense up as he gave you a look. "Answer him." He whispered quietly. "Uh, y-yeah. I just stubbed my toe and it hurt really badly." You mentally cursed yourself out in your head.

That was a bad excuse.

"Oh okay, I heard you yelling and I thought something was wrong. Anyways, let me get outta your hair." You heard your Dads footsteps walk away, making Austin's body finally relaxing.

Austin pulled out of you, pulling his boxers back up his legs. "That was too close. Imagine if he opened the door." Austin said, worry all in his tone. "Austin, calm down he wasn't gonna come in here." Austin nodded his head, taking a deep breath.

You were right. Your Dad was too busy focusing on planning your Moms party.

You picked up a shirt from the dirty pile, putting it on your body. "Grayson should be here soon. Go clean yourself up." Austin frowned at your words. Part of him was sad that you just let him fuck you and now you wanted him gone.

"Okay, I'll leave, but promise me one thing." You were silent waiting for him to continue. "Promise me the next time you get thirsty, you'll call me?"

At first you didn't understand what he meant by that, but thinking over the whole situation made you realize.

#austin theory #austin theory smut #austin theory fluff #austin theory imagine #austin theory x reader #austin theory wwe #wwe austin theory #wwe smut #wrestling smut

[lxndonorris]

just the tip - Austin Theory

Y/N x Austin Theory Theme: Smutish, not too explicit having a touchy morning before you’re leaving for the weekend x word count: 1250+

It’s rather early in the morning when you find yourself standing at the kitchen counter preparing two cups of coffee for you and your boyfriend Austin. It’s Friday, and you’re about to head out of town to meet up with friends to spend some quality time with them. Sadly, due to his tight schedule, Austin is unable to join you this time. You’ll be gone for about four days, and it already feels like an eternity. For Austin, it’s even worse. Even though he’s a mountain of a man, he’s soft and pretty clingy and won’t leave your side when you’re at home. He’d hide behind his tough guy, WWE persona, but you can see through that easily.

The coffee machine beeps happily, telling you that your caffeine shot is ready. Pouring the black, hot liquid into a mug, you smile, hearing familiar sounds coming out of the bedroom just down the hallway. Austin lets out a long, deep groan, stretching his arms and legs as he’s getting out of bed. You sweeten your coffee with a few drops of milk, using a spoon to blend it in. Without looking, you’re aware of him approaching you from behind, after all, he’s not that light on his feet. Austin runs his hand along your waist, his fingers meeting in front of your stomach as he hugs you from behind. He bends down, placing a kiss right underneath your ear, before lowering his voice to a breath. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” Feeling his warm breath against your skin, and his faint scent in your nose, you immediately get goosebumps. Leaning into him, you rest your back against his strong frame, as he places a few more long kisses onto your neck.”Good morning.” You smile happily, and turn your face towards his, causing his lips to separate from your skin just so you can look into his sleepy eyes. Slowly, you melt into him, your lips on his, both of you longing for each other. Once, then twice, you kiss him gently, before pulling away. Austin lifts his head slightly, looking at you, sleepiness written all over his face. “I smelt coffee?” He growls, his voice breaking for a moment. 

“Just finished.” You nod toward the steaming mug right in front of you. Rubbing his eyes, he steps beside you, one arm around your waist, the other grabbing a mug. “You’re going so soon?” His eyes are focused on the mug, while he pours coffee into it, but his voice gives it away. He noticed you being fully clothed already, a suitcase standing by the door, and the vacant side of the bed when he woke up. Hugging the warm mug in your hands, you bite your lower lip. He’s frowning already, knowing that you’re meant to leave in about an hour. “Yeah.” You frown as well, looking at him, as he turns towards you, taking a sip. Austin grimaces, as the coffee is still very hot. Giggling quietly, you follow his lead, and drink some coffee. You love the taste, and as you put the cup down, you lick your lips. 

“I hoped we could stay in bed a little longer.” He pouts, looking right over your shoulder towards the bedroom. “I know, Austin.” You say, taking a step towards him, placing a hand on his bare chest. You’re used to seeing him just wearing boxers, as most wrestlers either wear tights or basically some kind of underwear. “I am sorry I can’t come with you.” He says, his voice a little deeper than usual. Your eyes meet, and you smile comfortingly. “Next time again.” You place a hand at his neck, tenderly stroking him, running fingers through his beard. He returns the favor, puts the mug down, and gently grabs your hips, pulling you into him. 

“Hey.” You giggle as you steady yourself against his firm chest. At first, he doesn’t say a word, but that devious smirk and the shimmer in his eyes tell you right away, what he’s up to. “How long till you gotta go?” He growls again, and without looking at the clock, you shake your head. “Austin.” Holding back a huge grin, you enjoy the feeling of his hands on your waist. Slowly but surely, he pulls even closer, now, faces just inches apart, you can taste his cologne on your tongue. “How long will you be gone?” He frowns again, very well aware of that. But still, he wants to make a point so you let it slide. “Tuesday.” You bite your lip, letting your hands run down his chest, his abs to his waist. He looks down at your fingers as they trace the visible outlines of his tensed muscles.

“What should I do here without you.” He pouts again, lifting his head to meet your eyes once again. “You’ve got training, and a photo shoot for the new game, babe.” You say and pat his stomach gently. “But I’d rather be with you.” Austin’s face softens. For a moment, the two of you stand there, his fingers sliding underneath your shirt, while yours are stroking his well-formed chest. “How about I make it up to you.” You smile, teasingly running one finger down his abs, his waist across his crotch to his thighs. Mouth hanging open slightly, he cannot pull his eyes away from yours. “What..eh, how?” Austin tilts his head, asking obvious questions. You mirror his movement, stroking his thighs now firmly. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” You let your eyes wander all over his face, then down his neck, body, and even further down to your hands on his thighs. He follows your gaze immediately, and you gently lay a hand on his thick bulge trying to cup it with your hand. Already hooked, he lifts his head again, stretching his neck, letting out another, guttural low groan. “Y/N.” Austin breathes. “You’re too good to me.” Satisfied, you watch him panting for more. “Oh, I know.” You smirk, stroking him with the palm of your hand. Before you can react, however, he picks you up easily, causing you to giggle again. “What are you doing?” You chuckle nervously, as he puts you down on the kitchen counter. 

“But, I thought?” He says, and you grab his chin with one hand. “On Tuesday.” You finish his sentence, smirking widely. Austin frowns, again, bowing his head. “Fuck.” He exhales, and you lift his head up, leaning in to kiss him again, and again, four times, each kiss making him smile more and more. “What about...” He says quickly, and you shut him down. “Tuesday.” Shaking your head slowly, you watch him going through every possible situation in his mind. He considers multiple ideas, and opens his mouth to say something but stops right away. Lifting your head in expectations, you look at him. 

“Just the tip?” He says, pleadingly. “The tip?” You ask him, confused, as he grinds his hip against the kitchen counter. “Yeah?” He breathes deeply. Teasingly, you lean into him, and before your lips meet, you stop. “Tuesday.” You breathe into him and kiss him. He gives in to your kiss. Passionately, you run a hand around his neck, stroking the back of his head and running fingers through his hair. He separates for just a moment, breathing even heavier than before. “Tuesday?” Austin’s eyes locked with yours, and you smile. “Tuesday.” You say and kiss him again. 

You’re making out for a little while longer until it’s time to leave Austin for the weekend.

#Austin theory #Austin theory fanfic #Austin theory fanfiction #Austin theory blurb #Austin Theory one shot #Austin theory imagine #Austin theory smut #My writing: austin theory

[wildladyimagination]

Enemies To Lovers

(Contains smut and adult language. Anyone under 18, read at your own risk)

“Don’t me mad at me.” Peyton said as she pulled into the parking spot of the BnB house. Cameron looked over at her best friend as she turned the car off.

“What did you do?” Cameron asked with slight annoyance in her tone.

“We may or may not have invited Austin for the weekend.” Cameron groaned as her head fell back against the head rest.

“Girl, just because your engaged to the ‘Grayson Waller’ doesn't mean you two had to invite Austin.”

“I know you two go way back, but you’re both single and you need to get laid.” Cameron rolled her eyes.

“How did I not realize you we’re going to set me up?” Peyton shrugged with a smile on her face. The two friends finally made their way into the house where they found Grayson and Austin sitting on the couches on their phones.

“Well, hello there handsome.” Peyton greeted Grayson as she plopped on his lap. Grayson smiled and wrapped his arms around Peyton, enveloping her in a tight hug. Austin looked over at Cameron who sat down on the chair on the other side.

“Viper.” Austin greeted Cameron.

“Asswipe.” Cameron replied earning a cocky grin from Austin.

“Please at least try to be nice to each other.” Grayson said earning a giggle from Peyton.

“Aye-aye, captain…but no promises.”

“Okay, this tension is too much for me.” Peyton chimed in. “I need food and alcohol.”

“Of course, she does.” Cameron retorted.

Grayson made dinner for the four and by the time the sun had set, and the bonfire was started, Peyton was drunk and dancing around to the music that played on the speaker.

“Can you believe that I’m going to marry that?” Grayson asked with a tease. Cameron was sitting in the only other chair next to Austin with her head in her hand.

“The only reason you met that mess is because she dragged me to a show.” Cameron chimed, this time she smiled. “And she made me pay for the meet n greet.” Grayson looked at Cameron and playfully bowed.

“And I thank you…” Grayson pointed between Cameron and Austin. “…what is going on between you two?”

“Long story.” They said in unison.

“Babe, come dance with me, I’m lonely.” Peyton came over beside Grayson with a beer in her hand and held out her other hand.

“Well, figure it out.” Grayson teased as he took Peyton’s hand and walked over to the speaker. Austin and Cameron sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, they were left outside together when Peyton dragged Grayson inside.

“Do I need to apologize for picking on you?” Austin asked as he looked at Cameron. “Or for the whole break up with your friend from high school?”

“Which time?” Cameron asked in response with a half-smile. “And I’m not mad at you because of that. I don’t hate you, even. We were kids. I’m not particularly fond of you because the arrogant and cocky attitude.” Austin leaned towards Cameron, tilting his chair.

“You know it’s all show, right?” Austin was nearly in Cameron’s face as she looked at him. Cameron got closer putting their noses just inches apart.

“I know the real you, not the act you put on for the WWE.” Cameron put her hand on Austin’s face and pushed him back, causing him to laugh as his chair settled back on all four legs. “Just because your attractive and have muscles, doesn’t make me like every clueless girl that would gladly open their legs for you.”

“At least you can admit that you find me attractive.” Cameron rolled her eyes.

“What woman wouldn’t?” She mumbled under her breath.

“How about this? You can say no, and I won’t say anything else.” Cameron turned sideways to look at Austin better. “You come over here and kiss me. If you don’t feel anything at all, you can go back to ‘not being fond of me” and I will never mess with you again.”

“You think I have any feelings towards you?”

“You are the one who followed me on Instagram.” Cameron rolled her eyes as she stood up. She then sat down on his legs and looked at him.

“If I feel anything grow, I will cut it off.”

“I believe that.” Cameron sighed and leaned forward, letting their lips touch. Austin kept his hands to himself. The heat between the two of them was instant. Cameron liked the feeling of his body against hers and the feeling of his beard prickling against his skin. The kiss lasted longer than Cameron meant.

“Damn it.” Cameron said as she pulled away. Austin just smirked. She rubbed her face as she stood up. Austin watched as Cameron walked into the house. Shortly after, Austin made sure the fire was out and walked in as well.

He walked past the room Cameron was staying in and saw that the door wasn’t shut all the way. He looked in and saw Cameron leaning against the dresser with her hands on either side of her. She had changed into a long t-shirt and spandex shorts. Austin slowly pushed the door open as Cameron looked up at him.

Austin took her silence as permission and walked in, shutting the door behind him. Cameron could feel her heart beating so fast, she thought it was burst out of her chest. Austin walked up to her. He put his hands beside her hands as he continued looking at her.

“Just tell me to go and I’ll leave you alone.” Austin said quietly as he searched her eyes. “I just need to hear you say it.” Cameron didn’t answer but didn’t say anything at all. Her fingers dug into the wood of the dresser as his hand rested on her stomach, just above the lining of the spandex and Austin leaned towards her ear. “I’ve always had a thing for you. Just didn’t realized until we met again at the meet n greet.”

Cameron sucked in a quiet breath as she felt his fingers push past the band and his hand cupped her center. The goosebumps rose all over her body as he placed a gently kiss on her collar bone. The hair from his beard ticked her skin.

Cameron bit back the moan as his fingers started move up and down on her sensitive nerves. A smile played on Austin’s face. He looked back at her as his fingers continued their slow movement. He could see her fighting to speak.

“It doesn’t have to be anything official.” Austin said and watched as Cameron’s jaw dropped when his fingers slipped in. She let out a breath. “All you have to do is tell me to keep going or stop.” Cameron felt the wall she built up come tumbling down as she got lost in his eyes.

“Please.” The word rolled off her tongue as she put a hand on his thick bicep earning another smile from Austin.

Cameron leaned forward as Austin pushed the spandex down leaving her in just a t-shirt. She watched as Austin got onto his knees and her head fell back as his mouth attached to her core. She lifted her leg onto his shoulder and nearly fell apart as his tongue entered her.

Cameron couldn’t believe what was happening. She grew up disliking Austin, but the unwanted reunion had sparked something in her when she had seen how much he had changed physically.

Cameron’s hand dug into Austin’s shoulder as he entered two fingers while still using his tongue. A groan fell from her mouth, and she tugged at his arms, urging him to stand up.

The minute Austin got to his feet, Cameron’s legs wrapped around his waist as she pulled his lips to hers. His hands grasped either side of his waist and he groaned as his hard boner hit her still sensitive center.

Cameron’s hands fumbled with Austin’s belt, and she finally got it undone and pushed his pants down along with the briefs underneath. Austin lifted her up on the short dresser and they moaned as he pushed into her.

“Fuck me.” Cameron said as her head fell back when she felt his size. “You feel so fucking good.”

“You want me to hold back?” Austin asked and Cameron quickly shook her head. They finally stripped out of the rest of their close while Austin was still inside her. His hands rested on either side of her body as he began thrusting. Cameron wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him, not knowing whether to moan or cry at the sensation.

The dresser started to make nose as the intensity of his thrusts grew.

“You are a fucking goddess.” Austin choked out in between thrusts as he felt Cameron’s fingers dig into his back. As the feeling engulfed her, Cameron thought back to all the times she’s had wet dreams about Austin and the times she’s gotten herself off to the thought of this exact moment.

“Take me to the bed.” Cameron practically begged. Austin pulled out and carried Cameron over to the bed where he fell on top of her.

Cameron had no time to react as Austin thrust into her once again. Their eyes locked as the sweat poured down their bodies. When Austin reached up and intertwined their hands beside Cameron’s head, she nearly melted. The moans filled the room as Austin’s threats started to speed up and his pelvis hit hers. Cameron felt the intense rush as her release began to creep up on her.

“Fuck, I’m almost there.” Austin said in between the sloppy kisses. “What do you want me to go?”

“Just don’t fucking stop.” Cameron could barely talk as one of Austin’s hands reached down and rubbed her core. “I’m protected.”

“Fuck.” Austin mumbled again then held himself up on his hands and gave it everything he had. Their moans were loud enough for the other two to hear from their room.

Cameron’s toes curled as the release shot down her body. She wrapped her arms around Austin’s back, pulling against her. Austin groaned and fisted the sheets as everything had pent up inside came out and he released his load inside of her.

Austin looked down at Cameron who finally managed to catch her breath. Her head cupped the side of the face, and she pulled him down to kiss him.

~~~

Cameron woke up the next day to find one of Austin’s legs wrapped around hers and his arm across her stomach. She looked at his sleeping face but didn’t know how to react. She turned her head to look beside her and smiled.

Cameron leaned in and kissed him, feeling him kiss her back.

“I don’t know whether to punch you or fuck you again.” Cameron said, earning a chuckle from Austin as he finally opened his eyes.

Cameron watched as Austin rolled over slowly kissed down her stomach until he was in between her legs. As his lips touched her core, Cameron’s head fell back. Austin’s arms wrapped around her legs as his tongue went to work. His beard once again ticked her inner thighs. As Cameron’s head fell back, her hands grabbed the top of his and his intertwined with hers instantly.

Cameron lifted her head and looked down as her eyes connected with Austin’s. Her release came too quickly and her back arched as her mouth slammed shut. Austin lifted his head with a triumphant smile as he watched Cameron come down.

“Fuck.” Cameron mumbled as her stomach moved up and down with each breath. He sat down at the edge of the bed with her legs on his lap. Cameron finally looked back at Austin.

“You can’t tell me that hasn’t been in the works.” Austin said as his hand rubbed Cameron’s leg. She sat up and put her hand on top of Austin’s.

“You have to promise me something.” Cameron said.

“What’s that?” Cameron scooted closer to Austin and put her hand in his.

“I’ve been screwed but too many men, and not in a good way.” Austin couldn’t hide the smile. “Don’t be one of those men.”

Austin grasped Cameron’s cheek in his hand, pecked her lips, and rested his forehead against hers.

“I would much rather screw in a very good way.” Cameron smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~

These characters are from one of two WWE fanfics I will be writing. Thought ya'll would enjoy a bit of Austin Theory smut since they isn't much on her.

#austin theory smut #wwe smut

[mrselvisbutler]

THE THINGS I WOULD DO TO MAKE THIS MAN MOAN LIKE THIS OMFG 😩

THE FACT THAT ELVIS IS THE ONE MAKING THESE NOISES ARE MAKING ME GO FERAL 😩😩😩😩

#austin elvis imagine #elvis history #elvis biopic #elvis presley #elvis the pelvis #elvis movie #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #explore #austin #austin butler smut #austin butler #austin theory #austin!elvis #austin butler x reader #fypfypfypfypfypfypdypfypfypfypfypfypfyfpfyfpfyp #fypシ #fyp2022 #elvis #presley #butler

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

I cant fucking believe I’m requesting this… but Austin Theory, specifically this United States title run, got insanely hot for no reason. Just… put me out of my misery and make me a full blown simp please… you’re probably the only writer on here who can. Your work is so good. You already made me a Messiah Rollins wh0re 😂

Please The Champ

Summary: After another successful defence leads to a celebration together after

Warnings: smut, oral sex(make receiving), champion kink??

An: I’m honored that you think I can make you a whore for a wrestler. Also, this is my first time writing for Austin so I hope it’s ok

Taglist: @fiskers7136 @peachmango-kombucha @kcloveswrestling @bellalutionn @xkennyxomegax @tummyyellin @legit9thlunaticwarrior @auburnwrites @melissahausen @thesusbunny @writtingrose

It really didn’t take long for you to be on top of Austin once back to your hotel room. It didn’t matter how it happened, but once again Austin retained his title. Which is call of celebration.

“Killed it tonight baby,” you mumbled against his lips. He was on the couch of your hotel room, and you were sat on his lap.

“I should have killed Rollins.” You rolled your eyes at his words, grabbing his face in your hands. “Fuck Rollins, he’s not here right now. But I am,” you let your hand run down his stomach and to his crotch to rub him lightly through his pants. “And I think, I need to show my champ just how great he did.”

“Ya?” He smirked, watching as you slid to the ground between his legs.

You reached up to pull his pants down just enough to pull him out. He was half hard as you worked your hand up and down. “Is this an ok celebration, champ?”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to put in the work.” He pushed his hand on the back of your head, leading you to his cock. You opened your mouth, taking him in.

You started slow, bobbing up and down to get used to the feeling.

“Come on, we both know you can do better,” he urged, lifting his hips slightly to push just a bit more into your mouth. With his encouragement, you took him further and further into your mouth. You gagged lightly, feeling him push you down just enough for your nose to meet him.

“There we go, making me feel so good,” he mumbled while thrusting lightly. Tears were running down your face as you struggled to breathe through your nose.

He released your head so you could pull off to take a breath. You went back down, continuing to suck on him, running your tongue along the bottom of his cock.

“Come up here,” Austin grunted. You pulled off and stood up, but he stoped you before you could get in his lap. “Get undressed.” You began taking your clothes off, smiling while he watched you. His hand jerked himself lightly before you were naked and climbing on him. You knew what he wanted, and didn’t waist time sinking down on to.

He reached up, whipping your cheek lightly as you began moving up and down. “You look so beautiful like this. Makeup all over, completely ruined by my dick.” You moaned at his words, trying to speed yourself up. “Want to make you feel good,” you mumbled lightly out of breath.

“Ya? Would you do anything to make me feel good?” You nodded, and felt his grip on your waist tighten. He flipped you both over, thrusting fast and hard into you. “Good.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he hammered into you.

“Who’s your champion?” He groaned, bumping your head with his own.

“You,” You called out. “You Are.”

“Fucking right I am.” He could feel you gripping him, getting close. “Show me how good the champ makes you feel.”

“Austin! Fuck…” you scratched his back, shaking as you came around him. Within seconds, you felt him cum as well.

He thrust a few more times to ride out the high and then sat up, keeping himself firmly inside of you. Your legs and arms were wrapped around him, your face in his neck while he rubbed your back.

“We’ve got to celebrate more often,” he chuckled at your words.

“Baby, is celebrate with you every goddamn day.”

#Request #wwe #wwe one shot #oneshot #wwe smut #austin theory #austin theory x reader #fanfiction

[missmaywemeetagain]

Hints hints hints 🔎

Don’t miss out on the next Scarf Exclusive: Part 2 of Pink Scarf Reimagined, out later this week only on Patreon!

Join HERE 🎉💋

What do you think is gonna happen? Will Elvis stop Reader and Jack’s wedding??

Catch up here: Pink Scarf Reimagined: The Wedding

#what are your theories? #pink scarf reimagined #part 2 #pink scarf universe #scarf universe #elvis presley #elvis #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #pink scarf #💗💒❤️‍🔥

[goldenfoxe]

Rules and masterlist

Rules

I will write gore, but I will not write children being hurt

I won't write anything with kids in general, FTK

Basically I'll write anything as long as kids aren't involved.

Nav

my witcher ramblings (mainly season three commentary as I watch it)

I write the following as far as requests go (requests are open!!)

x trans! male reader

x trans! female reader

x nb reader

x male reader

x female reader

who I currently write for

WWE

Austin Theory

Cody Rhodes

Damien Priest

Dominik Mysterio

Finn Balor

Roman Reigns

Call of Duty

John "Soap" MacTavish

Konig

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The Witcher

Eskel

Geralt of Rivia

Jaskier

Overwatch

Baptiste

Cassidy

Junker Queen

Lucio

Mercy

Moira

Rammatra

Reaper

Reinhardt

Soldier: 76

Masterlists

WWE

#dominik mysterio x reader #cody rhodes smut #cody rhodes imagine #damian priest smut #roman reigns smut #judgement day #cody rhodes x reader #damian priest x reader #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe raw #austin theory x reader #austin theory #jaskier the bard #netflix the witcher #the witcher #the witcher x reader #geralt #geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix #jaskier #call of duty #ghost riley x reader #ghost x male reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost call of duty #john mactavish #soap x you

[theoryxwaller]

Man I’m working on my writing skills and once I’m satisfied I’m making more Gunther, Theory and Waller fics 😂 probably be Waller x Theory for them ones though

#wwe gunther #wwe #wwe imagine #austin theory #grayson waller #wwe smut #wwe monday night raw #wwe smackdown

[madamejustice527]

While Matt heals from the psychological warfare Roman inflicted on him, his most loyal follower, Austin Theory, fires back…

By questioning the paternity of Addalynn.

#wwe superstars #ao3 #ao3feed #ao3fic #ao3upload #like and comment #wwe #dean ambrose #roman reigns #smut #solo sikoa #matt riddle #austin theory #wwe smackdown #wwe raw

[shockercoco]

Consequences

Austin butler x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, riding, P in V, overstimulation, dirty talk, jealous!Austin

Word count - 2925 (I didn't intend for this to be 3k words lol)

a/n - request: “Hi! Please can you write an Austin butler x fem reader smut where he's jealous after watching her film a sex scene and he shows her how it's done? Maybe he's a bit cocky as well because he knows that only he can make her moan?” - loved this ty, I hope you enjoy :)

“They need everyone back on set in ten minutes,” you hear your assistant tell you from outside of your trailer door, interrupting your inner turmoil.

“Okay,” you tell her, and you hear her walk away as you go back to your thoughts.

You had been pacing back and forth inside your trailer for the majority of your lunch break thinking about your upcoming scene. It was a sexual scene that included you having to be practically naked in a bed with your male co-star.

When you had accepted the role you knew what it entailed, but back then the intimacy part of the script seemed so minor, and you had brushed past it. Given the fact that this wouldn’t be your first time shooting this type of scene, you really shouldn’t be stressing out. During those past roles, though, you hadn’t been dating Austin so it was simple and wasn’t awkward. It’s also not like Austin would have a problem with you doing this either because he trusts you – after all intimate scenes are a big part of the movie industry.

The intimacy coordinator had talked to both you and your co-star Matthew separately to inform you guys on what was expected. You also knew you could always say no, and you would probably be replaced with a body double, but that didn’t do anything to calm your nerves.

Figuring enough time had passed, you exited your trailer and headed back to set where the makeshift bedroom was already set. You saw Matthew in a robe matching yours standing off to the side getting some final touch-ups from one of the makeup artists. He gives you a small smile when he notices  you walking in before turning his attention back to the woman in front of him.

You and Matthew had grown close over the past couple of months, which isn’t unusual because you were both the lead actors, and he seemed like a nice person –at least from what you’ve gotten to see. Austin would always tell you Matthew was too nice to you each time he visited you on set, but you never saw it and would tell him that you would be okay. Austin is a persistent man and didn’t deter from his theory, therefore, he would always eye Matthew and keep you in eyesight. You would just silently laugh to yourself when you saw Austin behind the camera eyeing Matthew.

“Matthew’s my friend so this shouldn’t be too awkward. This will all be over before I know –,” you think to yourself, but your thoughts are interrupted when someone taps you on the shoulder from behind. You turn around to see Austin there smiling at you.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” you smile back at him as he brings you in for a hug with a quick kiss on your cheek.

“It was a last minute decision. I had to attend a meeting not too far from here, so I thought I’d stop by. I hope that’s okay,” Austin tells you as you lean back to look up at him.

“Of course it is, I was just surprised.”

“What scene are you filming?” he asks you as you two pull away. That’s when he notices the bed sitting in the middle of the room and your robe. “Oh.”

You cringe a little. “It’s just a quick sex scene, you know how it is. It’ll be over before you know it,” you try to reassure him as his eyes find Matthew.

“Yeah, but it’s with him,” he makes a face.

“I don’t get to choose my co-star, Austin. There’s only a couple more weeks of filming, and then we don’t have to see him again until the movie premiere,” you grab onto his arm for him to look at you. He finally tears his eyes away from your co-star to look at you again. He rolls his eyes, not at you, and gives you a nod.

Your assistant comes up to you to tell you that the director is ready to start the scene. You give Austin one last look before going with her and walking into the fake bedroom, Matthew joining you. Crew members start moving around to make sure everything is ready to go, and the assistant director comes over to put you and Matthew into position, followed by the intimacy coordinator. 

You take off your robe underneath the covers, not wanting to reveal yourself too much. Nipple stickers cover the top of you while a skin-colored pad is attached to your lower half. Matthew also has something to cover his manhood.

Once everything is in order, the crew members start filing behind the camera. Austin is also behind the camera standing to the side with his arms folded and jaw tense.

“You okay?” Matthew whispers next to you, and you give him a quick nod. He’s currently laying on his side looking down at you. “I see your boyfriend came to cheer you on.”

You’re not sure how to respond so you just smile at him.

“Just imagine me as shrek or something,” he jokes, making you laugh in response.

“I was planning on it.”

When the lights dim and the director yells action, Matthew doesn’t hesitate to lean down to kiss you, putting his hands on your waist. Austin watches everything from his place behind the camera.

Safe to say Austin wasn’t a fan of the whole process. Austin watched everything from his spot behind the camera – the way Matthew touched and held you, and the sounds falling out of your mouth as you held onto him. There was also more than one take, which made Austin even more agitated and tense. He couldn’t help but wonder if Matthew was getting turned on or if he was messing up on purpose. 

Both you and Austin were relieved when the director called it a day, and luckily that was the only intimate scene that had to be filmed. When you got up from the bed and put on your robe, with the help of your assistant, you saw the look on Austin’s face. You thought it was best to avoid eye contact.

The car ride back to Austin’s house didn’t involve much talking, and when you finally entered the house he was still silent. You decided to take a shower, to wash the day off and to give Austin time to cool down. Seeing that the sun is long gone, you prepare for bed — filming took longer than expected. As you walk out of the bathroom connected to the room you shared with Austin, you notice him already in bed on his phone, appearing to have already showered.

He probably used one of the guest room bathrooms, which isn’t uncommon of him, but given the situation you just find it extremely petty. You can’t help but laugh at Austin’s attitude, but then again you wouldn’t be too happy either watching him have pretend sex with another girl, which is why you try to avoid joining him on set during those days. 

As you climb into bed next to him, he doesn’t even glance at you as he continues to check his emails. You sigh dramitically, hoping to get his attention, as you look at the clock on the nightstand displaying eleven o’clock. Still nothing.

“Austin,” you say, trying to get him to look at you, but he just gives you a hum in response. You call his name again and he just raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something else.

“Are you really going to be upset all night?” You ask him.

“I’m not upset.”

“Are you sure because I’m pretty sure this is what upset looks like,” you point at his solemn face.

He looks over at you pointing at him, still with a plain face, before looking back down at his phone. You roll your eyes at his pettiness as an idea pops in your idea. 

“Is there anything I can do to make it better, at least?” You ask sweetly, even though none of this is your fault, hoping that a little pillow talk will help him get over this. A mischievous smirk grows on his lips before he finally tears his attention away from his phone, placing it aside to look you in your eyes.

“You know, there actually is something you could do,” he says, making you want to rescind your offer at his eagerness.

“What is it?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

He motions for you to sit on his lap by patting his thigh, but doesn’t wait for you to say anything as he grabs your hips to pull you onto his lap to straddle him. He forces your hips down against him causing you to hold back a moan, your thin panties allowing you to feel him grow hard through his sweatpants. Keeping his grip on your hips firm, he then begins rocking your hips back and forth, forcing you to grind down. You place your hands on his chest before gripping the fabric of his t-shirt as your eyes begin to flutter.

“You know what?” he asks as he leans to whisper into your ear, “maybe I am upset.”

“You know what, maybe I am upset,” he leans to whisper into your ear. A shiver runs through your body from the feeling as he continues, “I’m upset that I stood there and watched the way your co-star enjoyed fake fucking you, and after all this time you still don’t see the way he looks at you.”

“He’s acting, Austin, that’s what his role entails.”

Austin pulls away from your ear and looks you in the eye to say,” So he’s still acting even when the director calls cut?”

“He’s just a friend, I promise,” you whine out as you begin to feel arousal pool out of you and form a spot on your panties. Your answer doesn’t bring Austin any comfort. 

“This is exactly what i’m talking about, you don’t see it,” he shakes his head at you and removes his hands from you. “Lift up.”

Confused, you listen and lift your hips to hover above his lap, only for Austin to shimmy his sweatpants down his legs enough for his underwear to be revealed and to pull his hard length out. He then takes the lead and pulls your underwear to the side, grabs himself in one hand, pulls you down a little, and begins to rub himself against your slit. You both groan at the feeling – him at your wetness, and you at his teasing with your knees already growing weak.

“You’re going to take a seat and ride until I’ve had enough,” he tells you, knowing well enough that you weren’t a huge fan of riding. 

You didn’t enjoy taking control, and you would always get tired too quickly, which encouraged Austin to take matters into his own hands and thrust into you until you were overstimulated — not that you didn’t enjoy all of that, you just rather be on the bottom.

You nod before lowering yourself onto him until you’re completely full, taking a moment to take in the feeling before beginning to move. Austin tilts his head up with a sigh, his lips slightly parted at the feeling of your warm, rigid walls swallowing and releasing him repeatedly.

Your hands are on his shoulders now, gripping tightly, using him to help stabilize you. Keeping his grip on your hips firm, Austin looks down at the space between you two, watching as his length continues to disappear and reappear. Your eyes join his gaze and whimper at the sight. 

As expected you feel your legs quickly growing tired, so you lean forward to hide your face in Austin’s neck, using him to place some of your weight on.

“Oh, no. I want you to look at me,” he tells you.

“Austin,” you whine as you move your head away from him. One of the hands on your hips moves to your jaw, forcing your eyes onto his blue ones. His stare sends a wave of warmth to your center, his unpleasant mood turning you on, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem earlier when you had Matthew grinding on you,” he states. He drags his thumb across your lip, tugging it down before releasing it. 

“You know it’s not like that,” you tell him breathlessly as you shake your head. He continues staring into your eyes without responding to you.

Austin finally breaks that contact when he goes to take off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. He leans down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue around your nipple, and eventually moving to the other. He brings his hands up to your back, bringing you closer to him. This just sends another wave of pleasure through your body, making it harder to keep your rhythm strong. 

You whimper as you look down at him getting lost in his own world, and that’s just enough to make you tumble over the edge. You squeeze his shoulders and let out a cry as a strong rush of pleasure flows through your body and down to your cunt. With his mouth still connected to your breast, Austin can’t help but moan at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, causing a shiver to run through your body. He smirks to himself as he watches you fall apart above him.

He doesn’t let you or himself recover, though, as he flips you onto your back. He pulls his sweatpants, and underwear the rest of the way down his legs before pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it. He then proceeds to rip your thin panties and toss them aside, too impatient and needy to take them off the correct way. He goes to hover you and quickly sinks into you with a moan before pounding into you with intensity, trying to chase his own high. 

Still sensitive and not completely over your previous orgasm, your next one comes almost instantly at Austin’s rapid pace. This one is definitely more intense and as you open your mouth to let something out, you’re met with silence, leaving your mouth hanging open and your eyes closed as you toss your head back and release around him a second time. 

Feeling your walls close around him once again, Austin cums with a deep moan as his head dips down. He never stops thrusting into you, just slows down, as you feel his warm load shoot into you. This prolongs your high and brings you into overstimulation as your back arches, and you finally find your voice to let out a sob as your body continues to quiver and shake. Just when you think he’s going to stop, Austin speeds back up into you, making you place your hands on his waist to grip down.

“Please,” you whimper, wanting to tell him to stop with the continuous torture, but you’re enjoying it too much. He just laughs above you.

“What’s wrong, huh? Too much?” he teasingly asks, but you don’t have the energy to answer. He looks down at the spot you two are connected to see the remains of your orgasm pooling out and onto the sheets below. He watches as your flow of arousal coats him as he continues to plunge into you.

“It can’t be too much, I mean you seem to be loving it too much,” he removes your hands from his body and holds them in his hands as he leans down onto his elbows. You're caged in as he pins your arms to your side. Austin rubs his nose against yours to bring you back to reality, watching as your eyes find his.

“Austin, baby,” you breathe out.

“Austin, baby what?” he asks with a tilt of his head, knowing he has you right where he wants you. He leans down a little to spit into your already parted mouth.

You don’t respond, you can’t respond as you continue taking him in. Your body is on fire, and you can feel your walls constantly clenching down around him.

“You don’t want me to stop, right? I mean there’s no way,” he smiles. “It seems like she doesn’t want me to stop either,” he says referring to your cunt releasing a squelching sound with each thrust from how soaked it is. 

What comes out of your mouth next is nothing but a blabbering mess as you give into him, feeling drool – or his saliva – coming out the side of your mouth. You feel more of your wetness run out of you at his dirty talk, before feeling yourself unexpectedly cumming again. You release for the third time with a shriek as you dig your nails into his hands.

When Austin feels himself coming to his second orgasm, he quickly pulls out before jerking himself off the rest of the way. He shoots his sticky load onto your stomach, marking you as his. You feel yourself clench around nothing, your cunt so used to him diving into it.

Austin uses his finger to swipe some of his remains up from your stomach, and then places his finger on your lips, wanting you to open. You bring him into your mouth before tasting and sucking his finger while looking him in his eyes.

“You better stop before we go again,” he looks down at you, already feeling himself growing hard.

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #austin butler x you #smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha

[aalyssah]

A Deal’s A Deal

Pairing: Austin Theory x Fem!Mysterio!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Blowjob, Cursing, Degradation, Face Fucking, Handjob, Oral, (Both Receiving), Praise, Spitting, Unprotected Sex. Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 1,937

Summary: When your Dad has a match for a title, you desperately want him to win, so you go to the champ and try to make a deal for the belt.

A/N: I've gotten some requests for Austin Theory so I'm finally writing for him. Hope You Enjoy!

You were at your Dad's team meeting with the LWO.

He was currently in a lecture about how to beat the Judgement Day after their attack. You love your Dad, but you can't help, but feel like he's fallen apart ever since he joined LWO. Especially after Dominik left him for Rhea, that's when it really went downhill.

He's been losing matches, not getting a lot of TV time, and fans have begun commenting on it, asking 'Why hasn't Rey been on TV the whole week?'

So when Triple H said he had an idea to boost Rey's career, you made him take it instantly, just for it to come out as a Main Event match. Everyone was excited, but you could only wonder who it was he was facing.

A text dinged on Rey's phone, a smile lighting up on his face. "Alright guys I got some good news. Triple H just confirmed that I'll have a match against Austin Theory for his US title this week on Smackdown!"

Everyone cheered, congratulating Rey on his big match, but you sat there with a scowl on your face.

He's fighting Austin Theory? The most ignorant, cocky man you've ever met. You looked at your Dad and team as they celebrated. He looked so happy and proud that he was finally gonna get a title shot after so long.

Through the happy moment a frown came to your face as you thought of Triple H. Although he's worked with Rey before, he's most likely gonna make Austin win, wanting to 'put the younger talent up.'

You stood up, grabbing your phone. As you were about to walk out, Rey stopped you. "Mija, where are you going? Don't you wanna celebrate?" You put on a sad smile. "Sorry Dad, Michin needs my help. Girl problems. I'll be there at your match though!" You went down the halls to search for Austin.

You stopped by people, asking if they saw him and the best answer was 'check his locker room.' So you stood in front of the door, knocking on it.

You could hear footsteps come to the room and the door opened, revealing Austin with just a white towel hanging low in his waist. "Who's knocking at my door when- Oh, Y/n." You scoffed at his change of tone.

Austin's known for flirting with you, but of course you rejected him. "Look, we need to talk, so move aside." You pushed him aside, inviting yourself in.

Austin smirked, closing and locking the door. "Dang, if you wanted me alone so bad, you should've just asked for my hotel room number." You gave him a glare, sitting down on the couch. "So what can I do for ya, pretty lady?"

You sat up, looking at him seriously. "I'm sure you know about the match between you and my Dad tomorrow and I just wanted to see if we could make a deal." Austin perked up at your words. "A deal? What kind of deal?" Austin asked.

You took a deep breath, not ready to speak. "I want to give you head, so my Dad can win the title." Austin's eyes grew wide, an evil smirk coming to his face. "My god, Y/n! I didn't know you had such a filthy mouth!"

You pinched his thigh, him hissing in pain. "Hey!" You ignored his whine. "I'm serious Austin. I want my Dad to win this title and I'll do whatever it takes to see him happy." Austin raised his eyebrows, nodding his head in acceptance.

"Well I love the determination, but you're gonna have to give me something more than just head baby." Your face scrunched up at the nickname. "What? What do you want?" Austin chuckled, trailing his hands to your thigh.

"I want you. I wanna fuck that sweet pussy. Ain't no way you're gonna get me off and leave unsatisfied." Your mouth dropped open as he spoke. You twitched as his hand cupped your crotch area through your jean shorts.

"But that's only if we make it a deal, then Rey will have the title." You bit your lip, looking at him up and down.

Austin wasn't a bad looking guy, in fact you liked him when you joined WWE, it's just that what you're doing is so wrong.

You closed your eyes, nodding your head. "Okay fine, I'll let you fuck me IF you let my Dad win the belt." You hesitated to hold your hand out, but Austin instantly shook your hand with a wicked smile on his face.

You sat there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. "Come on baby, why are you just sitting there, get on your knees and open that pretty mouth." You put your phone on the couch and dropped to your knees, looking up at him.

He eyed his towel, silently telling you to pull the towel off. You brought your hand up and pulled at the loosely tied towel, his cock springing up fast. You gulped, taking him in your hand and feeling the side.

He was big.

Bigger than average.

You slowly stroked him and closed your eyes as you leaned forward and took him in your mouth. He groaned, body shuddering at the feeling of your warm mouth on something so sensitive.

He held your hair and you bobbed your head, taking him deeper and deeper in your mouth before pulling back.

You do have to admit, he tastes so good.

You hummed as his hand fisted your hair before going back to normal. It was obvious he wanted to pull your hair, yet he was being gentle.

You fondled his balls, gently squeezing them. "Damn your mouth feels good." You giggled, the vibration shot up his body.

He groaned loudly, thrusting his hips slightly. You gagged, holding into his thigh. "Fuck, sorry." You took him out your mouth, shaking your head. "No, I liked that. Fuck my throat." Austin looked down at you. "You really are a whore."

For some reason his words didn't hurt you.

They turned you on.

He took a moment to spread his legs and hold your head before thrusting his hips forward. You choked at the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

He was slow and easy thrusting, his cock hitting inside your mouth. He was silently grunting and groaning, trying to hold back his noises. His balls lightly slapped against your chin, your saliva coating his cock.

With a powerful thrust he stilled, you gagging around his cock before he pulled you back with a groan. He quickly picked you up, and threw you back on the couch and pulled your pants down.

"Austin, what are you doing?" Austin ignored you, sniffing your pussy. "Shh baby, I just need a little taste." You watched as he leaned forward with a smile. "Austin this wasn't part of the deal- Oh god."

Your head fell slack against the couch pillow as his tongue licked at your cunt. You gripped at his short hair, as his hands came to your thigh, pulling you close. His tongue lapped at your core, him moaning and humming at your sweetness.

He took his mouth off you with a slurp sound. "Mmm, I knew you would taste good." He said as his finger teasingly pushed inside you. He pushed his finger deeper, seeing how far it could go.

He groaned seeing you swallow his finger whole just for him to pull out and see it glistening from your juices. "So pretty." He praised, bringing his mouth back to you.

He spit on your cunt and pushed his tongue past your hole, thrusting his fingers in and out. You moaned loudly, your grip on his hair tightening. Your legs shook as he didn't slow down his mouth.

Your hands came to his face, cupping his jaw and pulling him away.Your chest heaved up and down as you stared at him, your juices mixed in his beard. "You better stop before I cum." Austin smiled, manhandling you and putting you on all fours.

Austin guided his cock to your entrance, rubbing his tip against your slit. He slowly pushed in, him grunting at the feeling of your warm cunt squeezing him. "Goddamn, you feel good." He started off normal, pumping in and out of you at a normal pace.

You put your face in the cushions of the couch, to try to quiet yourself down since you were still at the arena.

Austin's hand came to your hair, forcing you to look up at him. A moan screeched from your throat at his grip. "You look so pretty like this. What would your Dad think if he saw you getting fucked by the same man he's fighting for the belt tomorrow?" You ignored his words, closing your eyes as his pace picked up.

You looked up at him with doe eyes, igniting something in him. You both stared at each other as your mouth was open. "Kiss me Austin. Please kiss me." Austin hunched down to you, sloppily kissing you, y'all's lips sucking and smacking against each other.

He pulled back, then pushed your head deep down in the cushion and started pounding you. The loud clapping could most likely be heard through the walls, but you could care less. He was making you feel so good.

You were biting down on the couch, your moans slipping past. "Fuck, you're gripping me so damn right, you must be close." You nodded your head, agreeing. "Then cum, cum for me." He rubbed your clit, making you cum fast. Not many men are able to find your clit.

Austin froze up at the feeling, pulling out quickly and cunning on your ass and back. He grunted as his cum shot out of him, painting your body. He stood there watching as your body rose and fell from your heavy breathing.

You tried to move, but he quickly stopped you. "Wait, don't move, let me clean you up." He left for the bathroom and grabbed a paper towel. He cleaned your back up and helped you stand up. "So you'll let my Dad win?"

Austin gave a challenging smirk. "I don't know, will I?" You rolled your eyes at the fact he sounded like a teacher. "We have a fucking deal Theory, don't let me down!" You left his locker room, going back to your Dad.

It was the next night and it was time for his match. Fans are yelling and screaming, ready for the Main Event.

Austin came out flashing his title at the screen, little did everyone know, he was gonna lose it.

Rey's music hit and everyone was on their feet, cheering and singing to his music. It was like his appearance lights up the arena.

Their match played out with Austin falling right into Rey's trap, Rey hitting a 619 before getting into the ring and hitting a frog splash for his buddy Eddie.

"1, 2, 3!"

The count of the referee made everyone jump high. Rey fell back with a smile on his face and you couldn't help, but smile too. For once you could see an actual smile on his face.

The LWO came out and ran to the ring, picking up Rey and holding him into the air. You stood at the side, clapping and cheering for you Dad.

You then looked down at Austin who sat on the mat holding his ribcage. You two locked eyes, him throwing a wink and mouthed, "A deal's a deal." You smiled, shaking your head.

Maybe you can trust him.

#austin theory #austin theory smut #austin theory fluff #austin theory imagine #austin theory x reader #wwe austin theory #austin theory wwe #wwe smut #wrestling smut

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: September 26th, 2003

Plot: There are very few tragedies in life that come with warning.

Word Count: 12.8k (longest chapter yet)

Warnings: tlou ep.1 spoilers, language, canon-typical violence, gore, blood, guns, death, loss of a child, injuries, implied smut (16+)

A/N: Well, we’ve arrived at that fateful chapter…this took so long to even be emotionally able to write. There are so many small details that I hope people catch, and plenty of things to remember for future chapters.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist unless your age/range is specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I hope y’all enjoy this one, and thank you so much for all the kind words, theories and general love I receive throughout the week 💞

————————

September 26th, 2003. Austin, Texas.

There are very few tragedies in life that come with warning.

Families of the terminally ill are given a vague timeline of when they’ll lose their loved one.

Soldiers are told before marching into battle that they may lose their life.

But a car crash does not announce itself before causing the collision.

A heart attack doesn’t prepare its victim before it steals their breath.

Nor did Cordyceps feel it owed the world any notice before it arrived.

On the morning of September 26th, Y/n was awoken by strips of sunlight coming through the blinds of Joel’s bedroom window. She was the early riser out of the two and she never minded, it gave her more time to admire the handsome lump weighing her down.

Y/n brushed a strand of hair off her boyfriend’s forehead and pressed a feather light kiss to it. Joel didn’t wake easily, but she liked to say she at least tried the sweet way before having to go nuclear. She gently rubbed his back, running her palm up and down the warm skin, but it only made him settle deeper into her chest. Y/n smiled and shook her head, knowing that in mere seconds….

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

It truly was miraculous how deep Joel could go into his rest. Y/n rolled her eyes and tried to reach across the pillows to switch off the clock, her fingers wiggling in the air as she strained. With his arms firmly wrapped around Y/n’s body, Joel didn’t even budge.

Finally, salvation came in the form of Sarah banging on the bedroom door, jolting Joel awake.

“Alarm,” the girl called, raising her voice the second time, “Alarm!”

“Thank you,” Y/n called back.

Joel rolled over, barely aware of his surroundings, and switched off the clock. He pushed up on one arm and turned back to his girlfriend, watching him with a smirk.

“What?”

Y/n shook her head, “You must be great in emergencies.”

Joel rubbed at his eyes, “Maybe I’m a little tired because someone wore me out last night.”

“Oh, don’t blame me for this,” Y/n laughed, “A year and a half and I’ve never seen you wake up when your alarm goes off. Not once.”

Joel looked down at her, squinting from the sunlight, a small smile playing on his lips, “Maybe I hear it, but there’s a more compellin’ reason to ignore it.”

He slipped back down into the sheets, resting his head once again on Y/n’s chest.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Y/n began to shimmy out of his arms, “We gotta get up.”

Joel tightened his hold around her torso, “My birthday, I make the rules.”

“No, it’s your birthday and Sarah and I make the rules,” Y/n corrected. Joel had never been one for celebrating the day, meaning it was up to Sarah and Y/n to make the day special, “What you want actually ranks very low on the list.”

Joel was paying very little attention to his girlfriend’s words, trailing a line of kisses up the chest of his t-shirt she was wearing and across her neck. “Five minutes,” he mumbled against her skin.

“No,” Y/n denied, her pulse speeding up the further his lips travelled.

“Yes,” Joel ignored her protests, making his way up to where her jawline met her ear.

“No,” Y/n laughed, her words not lining up with her reaction as she ran a hand over Joel’s hair.

“Say it again, honey,” Joel whispered against her ear, “And mean it.”

Y/n was teetering on the edge of letting him take what he wanted, but her loyalty to Joel’s daughter won out. “Sarah’s cooking you breakfast,” she said, slipping her hand between their chests, “And I’m not gonna be the one to tell her that her dad missed out on her efforts because he was horny.”

Joel snorted, dropping his head and laughing against Y/n’s chest.

Y/n pulled his face up to hers and laid a kiss on his lips, “Happy Birthday.”

“Just another reminder I’m gettin’ old,” Joel grumbled.

“True,” Y/n smiled, taking his scratchy cheeks into her palms, “But you’re my old man.”

Joel chortled, running his hands over Y/n’s body one last time before reluctantly rolling off of her. Their day had to begin, whether he wanted it to or not…

The two got dressed for work, while Y/n hadn’t officially moved in with the Millers, it was her second home. She kept practically one of everything in Joel’s room because of how often she slept over.

Y/n was the first of them down the stairs, landing in the kitchen where Sarah was already laying strips of bacon in a pan, “Can you take this so I can get the eggs?”

“You got it,” Y/n responded, switching places with the girl.

Sarah opened the fridge doors, getting a whiff of the inside, “When was the last time we cleaned this out?”

“Uh, two weeks ago, I think,” Y/n replied.

“Well, something died in it recently,” Sarah stated, grabbing a bowl to whisk the eggs in.

Sarah and Y/n’s relationship had stayed as steady as her and Joel’s. She’d expected some sort of pushback eventually, Sarah had just hit the teenage years, but it had yet to come. Y/n theorized it was because the young girl was just happy to have a woman in her life, but she felt like that was giving herself too much credit.

With the protein cooking on the stove, Sarah started searching through the cabinets. Joel had just come downstairs, still buckling his belt.

“Where’s the pancake mix?” Sarah asked her dad.

Still groggy, Joel scrunched his brows. “Oh, I was-” he’d forgotten the trip to the store he was supposed to take the night before, “Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

“I was gonna make you birthday pancakes,” his daughter complained, marching to the fridge and muttering to herself, “I swear…”

Joel ignored the smell of the food cooking and headed straight for the coffee pot, “You know, I don’t really like pancakes.”

“I know you don’t,” Sarah replied, pouring a glass of orange juice, “It was for my and Y/n’s benefit.”

“We’ll survive,” Y/n said, working on the eggs while Sarah was away, “Though pancakes are a weird thing to not like.”

Joel bristled at his girlfriend’s remark, turning around and facing Sarah with the glass of juice extended towards him.

“Vitamin C,” she explained.

For as much as Joel took care of his daughter, the roles were beginning to shift the older they both got. Sarah could spot his bad habits and tried to fix them wherever she could, the biggest one being his lack of actual nutrition. The man existed on coffee.

Joel took the glass from her, setting his mug down and humoring Sarah with a sip.

Y/n chuckled as she watched his expression turn sour, “Look more enthusiastic. I dare you.”

Joel grimaced, proceeding to pick up the coffee as soon as Sarah was back at the stove.

“You get your, uh, homework done?” Joel asked Sarah, waiting for her smile when she turned around, “Fractions?”

Sarah laughed, it was fact not only that she was ahead of her classmates, but Y/n was her tutor when it came to math. Joel wanted nothing to do with the subject.

Y/n and Sarah plated the feast and the three of them sat down at the table, as they did most mornings. Between Y/n and Joel’s work schedules and Sarah’s extracurriculars, it was the only guaranteed time they had each day to spend together.

“How old are you again?” Sarah asked her dad.

“Thirty-six,” Joel answered with a mouthful of egg.

“Gonna have to start wearing diapers soon,” Sarah joked, her tone remaining remarkably even.

”Who says I don’t already?” Joel replied, it wasn’t hard to track where Sarah’d gotten her humor from. He proceeded to pick something out of his teeth, looking to his daughter, “Shell.”

“Calcium,” she said, grinning wide with a mouthful of eggs on display.

“Lovely,” Joel muttered, looking over at Y/n as she laughed, “You’re encouragin’ bad table manners.”

Y/n shrugged and held her coffee mug to her lips, ”I see it as supporting a potential future as a comedian.”

The truck engine in the driveway signaled that Tommy was there to pick his brother and Y/n up for the day.

“Is there enough for Uncle Tommy?” Joel asked Sarah.

“There would’ve been,” Sarah grumbled into her plate, still bitter about the lack of pancakes.

“I can whip him up something, if we’ve got time,” Y/n offered.

Joel shook his head, “Nah, we gotta get going.”

Tommy entered through the garage door, the most carefree of them all. “Ay,” he clasped Joel’s shoulder, “You’re still alive, you old fucker.”

“Language,” Y/n chastised, she’d been trying for months to curb Tommy’s soldier’s mouth around Sarah. It wasn’t working.

“Aw,” Sarah cooed to Joel, “He loves you.”

“He’s dependent on me,” Joel watched his brother begin to raid his kitchen, “Not the same.”

Sarah shrugged, “I think it’s the same.”

“It’s definitely the same,” Tommy said, examining the countertops for food, “I thought we was havin’ pancakes.”

“The age started to take his memory last night,” Y/n’s tone turned serious as she pressed a hand to Joel’s bicep, “We’re meeting him where he is.”

Joel’s smirk contradicted the glare he shot his girlfriend, letting her hand stay on his arm through the teasing. “We’ll pick you up somethin’ on the road,” he addressed Tommy, “Concrete guys gonna be there?”

“Yeah, they said maybe,” Tommy replied as he opened up the fridge.

“‘Maybe?’” Joel echoed, “We can’t frame until we pour. We’re not gettin’ paid until we frame.”

Tommy started sniffing through various leftovers, “Well, we could bring someone else on, get the job done faster.”

“No, no,” Joel shook his head and cut up another bite of eggs, “I’m not splittin’ this job, I barely wanna split it with you. We could work a double.”

Sarah and Y/n both turned to him.

“Literally?” Sarah asked, “Today?”

“Joel, come on,” Y/n agreed, “Not today.”

“I know,” Joel was quick to remedy the moment, “I’d be done by nine,” he called to Tommy, “By nine, right?”

Sarah gazed across the table to Y/n, the two of them sharing a disbelieving look.

“I’ll bring back a cake,” Joel looked between the girls, “I promise.”

Y/n sighed, holding her coffee cup to her chest. Joel had been pulling double shifts more and more recently. She’d been meaning to talk to him about it, how she and Sarah had been missing him, but she was in no position to stop him from working. Money was tight and contract work was never a sure thing.

A news broadcast broke up the top 40 station Sarah had turned the radio on to while cooking. “Continued disturbances in Jakarta…” the voice announced, the clinking of silverware against plates breaking it up, “But are advising U.S. citizens-“

“Jakarta?” Joel repeated, “Where is that? Middle East?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Tommy shook his head, holding a coffee cup, “It’s definitely a country. Or maybe a part of Asia?”

Y/n smiled and tilted her head at Sarah, who was already prepared to answer.

“Jakarta isn’t a country,” she interjected, “Being a part of Asia isn’t mutually exclusive with being a country and in fact, it’s the capital of Indonesia.”

“That’s my girl,” Y/n said proudly.

“Shit,” Tommy grinned, “Hope for us yet.”

Joel took a final sip of his coffee before slapping his hand against his bare wrist, still expecting his broken watch to be there. He, instead, dug into his pocket checked the time on his cell phone.

“All right,” he announced to his daughter, collecting his and Y/n’s plates, “Finish up quick. We’ll drop you off.”

“I’m still eating my eggshells,” Sarah said.

“You got seven minutes,” Joel replied, dumping the dishes in the sink for later.

“Your t-shirt’s inside out.”

Joel looked down, deflated at the trip he now had to make back upstairs, “Shit.”

Sarah waited till he was out of the room and cocked a suspicious eyebrow at Y/n.

“Pop that thing down, missy,” Y/n pointed downwards, “Your dad just pays shockingly little attention for someone who works with power tools.”

Tommy smiled over the wings he’d taken for himself, “He’s losin’ it.”

Y/n laughed and nudged Sarah’s leg, “C’mon, finish up.”

Sarah scooped the last bite of egg into her mouth and handed her plate to Y/n, who brushed past Tommy on her way to the sink. She reversed a few steps to get a whiff of the chicken.

“Found the smell,” she called out to Sarah, patting Tommy’s shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Stomach of steel,” he replied, setting his plate on the edge of the sink and planting a kiss on Y/n’s cheek. The two of them had become as good as siblings.

Y/n climbed up the stairs and down the hall to Joel’s room. He emerged just as she approached, brushing his hand across her hip as they passed one another. As much as they both loved pouring out the fullness of their affection, the casual intimacies were their favorites.

Grabbing her keys and wallet off Joel’s dresser, Y/n peeked out the window and waited till she saw Joel outside with Tommy. “Sarah,” she called down the hall.

Sarah tiptoed her way in, just to be safe, “Good?”

“Yep,” Y/n nodded.

Sarah found the assigned drawer, digging through Joel’s possessions to pull out his broken watch. She’d developed the plan to fix it as a birthday present last month and had gotten Y/n in on it.

“You’ve got the money?” Sarah checked.

Y/n flipped through the bills in her wallet, “Should be enough.”

Sarah thumbed through Joel’s cash and pulled out a few extra, smiling mischievously, “Now we can be sure.”

“Sarah! Y/n!” Joel called from the truck, Tommy was honking the horn.

Slipping the watch into her backpack, Sarah and Y/n quickly left the bedroom and headed down the stairs. Y/n hung back to make sure the coffee pot and stove were off before exiting out the front door. From the porch, she could see Sarah was in conversation with Mr. Adler next door. Or rather, dodging conversation.

“Make ‘em happy,” Joel encouraged, passing Y/n to grab another load of tools.

“I could come by after school, but just for like, a little bit,” Sarah offered.

“She’ll take what you got,” Mr. Adler replied as he fed his elderly mother-in-law, “Y’all can bake or whatever. Speakin’ of,” the man held up a plate, “We got a lotta extra here, y’all want some biscuits?”

“Dad,” Sarah masterfully tossed the ball to Joel, “You love biscuits.”

“I do,” Joel replied cheerily, “But Y/n’s got me on Atkins.”

Y/n snorted, watching the exchange go down from the bed of the truck.

“On what now?” Mr. Adler asked.

“It’s uh-“ Joel stopped himself, “You know, we gotta run but Sarah’ll be by later. She’ll stay as long as you want,” he smiled genuinely to his neighbors and smugly to his daughter, “Tell you all about Atkins.”

“Great, I’ll let Connie know,” Mr. Adler called back as Joel took Y/n’s hand and led her around the truck, “Hey, Y/n, you’re invited too.”

She peeked over the truck’s flatbed, “I’ll be working, but I’ll come grab Sarah on my way home.”

“Thank you,” Sarah smiled at her dad’s girlfriend, glaring at her father himself, “Solid.”

Joel held the door open for them, smirking at Y/n. “Thirty minutes, then you can rescue her,” he instructed.

“I never suggested Atkins,” she replied, sliding into the backseat beside Sarah.

“Can’t tell you how exciting it was listenin’ to that fuckin’ conversation,” Tommy commented, his speech molding around the cigarette between his lips.

“Put that out,” Joel said, a second before Y/n could form the same words.

Tommy flicked the smoke out onto the driveway, “Happy birthday to you.”

The truck pulled out into the cul-de-sac, carrying each of them off to their separate days.

Once Sarah had been dropped off at school and Y/n at the hardware store, Joel and Tommy headed across town to their construction site.

“Y’all got plans for tonight?” Tommy asked as they rode.

“If I don’t bring a cake home, they’re gonna string me up,” Joel answered, “Other than that, nothin’.”

His brother chuckled, “Least they gang up on you together. I got a buddy who just brought his girl home, his kid can’t stand her.”

Joel wasn’t an idiot, he knew how lucky he was that his girlfriend and daughter got along. No, they did better than just get along. They were practically inseparable. He’d take as much shit as they could give him, so long as they did it together.

“When’re you gonna marry that girl?”

It wasn’t the first time Tommy had asked that question. It had been increasing in frequency over the last few months. After they’d passed their one year anniversary, it became a thought consuming more and more space in Joel’s mind. It had taken enough time to sort out his thoughts and fears on the subject of going into marriage again, but it had been something that week that had settled him on the matter.

Monday night, Y/n had dropped by after her shift to help Sarah with homework. Joel had been at work, but when he got home, he expected to see them waiting for him at the kitchen table. Finding only silence, he climbed the stairs and peeked into Sarah’s room. Y/n was sitting against the headboard of Sarah’s bed, the young girl tucked into her shoulder, the math homework spread across their laps.

In the seemingly meaningless display of affection, Joel saw so much more. He saw the rest of his life. He could finally give Sarah a crucial piece of happiness that she’d been deprived of. He could have the love he’d craved and denied himself for so many years. The three of them, a family.

He was going to ask Y/n to marry him that weekend.

“I was gonna head to that place in the mall tomorrow morning,” Joel replied, his fingers rubbing together in anticipation. The last few weeks of working double shifts would pay off if he could find the perfect ring.

“Oh, shit,” Tommy grinned, “You’re actually doin’ it.”

“No reason to wait,” he said, staring ahead as if he could see his bright future.

“Think she’ll say yes?” Tommy asked, practically bleeding from the daggers Joel shot at him. He heartily laughed, “You get Sarah’s blessin’?”

A small smile stretched across Joel’s lips, “I know I already got it. But yeah, I’m gonna show her the ring, ask her officially.”

“Girl’s not gonna say no,” Tommy replied, making a turn onto the street the construction site was on, “She’s as crazy about her as you are.”

Joel couldn’t see any reason why Sarah would reject Y/n, she liked her better than she did Joel half the time. But he’d still never make such a big decision without consulting his daughter.

“You fucker,” Tommy chuckled, smacking Joel’s chest, “Won the damn lottery.”

Joel smiled out the window, he knew it too.

——————

Y/n’s day went by as slow as possible. She kept moving around the hardware store, helping employee and customer alike with anything they needed. All she needed was to stay busy until 3PM when she’d clock out an hour early, pick Sarah up at the house and they’d head downtown to the watch repair shop.

She absentmindedly spinning down one of the aisles, passing Melinda, one of her co-workers.

“Head outta the clouds, kid,” she chuckled.

“I’m on the ground,” Y/n replied, doing another twirl, “I just need this fucking day to end.”

Melinda went back to hanging inventory, “You and Joel got big plans tonight?”

“I was gonna grill us up some steaks,” she shrugged, “Cake. He’ll get squirmy if Sarah and I spoil him too much.”

“I got a question,” Melinda rested her arm on a shelf, “And if it’s too personal, you tell me. I won’t care, but you can tell me.”

Y/n giggled, “Okay.”

“Are you two ever gonna get married?”

Y/n’s movements came to a stop in the middle of the aisle. She’d been thinking more and more about what it might look like to marry Joel. It wasn’t like she was daydreaming about meaningless details like what dress she’d wear or what color roses would serve as centerpieces. She thought about waking up in Joel’s arms every morning, cooking breakfast for Sarah, being there for every moment, big or small. That was what she cared about.

Joel had eventually opened up to her about his ex-wife and what her abandonment had done to both him and Sarah. Y/n knew it was a scar that was as healed as it could be. She would never rush Joel into making a decision about their future, but she’d have been lying if she’d said she didn’t want to eventually wear his ring on her finger.

“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly.

“Well, he needs to lock you down,” Melinda pointed towards Y/n with a hammer, “My cousin, came in last week, got one look at you, he’s been asking me for your number all week.”

Y/n laughed, “Ring or no ring, I’m locked down. This is it for me.”

The women turned their attention down the aisle to a man, taking sloppy steps down the aisle. It was barely two in the afternoon, a little early to already be drunk, but Texas took the rules of happy hour very loosely.

Melinda groaned, “Ugh, you want me to take him?”

“No, I got it,” Y/n put on her cheery voice and walked up to the customer, “Can I help you find any-“

The man spun to face her, snarling, and took a swing at Y/n. She jumped back just in time.

“What the f-“

Growling, he charged towards her again, this time using her shock against her and tackling her to the floor. Y/n screamed, shoving her hands against his chest in an effort to push him off of her.

“Fuck!” Melinda yelled, pulling at the guy’s legs, “Help! We need help!”

Y/n stared into the man’s eyes, they were glazed over entirely, filled with pure, animalistic rage. He snarled and bit at the air before wrapping his hand around her neck. She used all her strength to push him away, her breath stuck in her throat. He lunged to burrow his face where his hand lay, Y/n couldn’t get him off her, but she kept him from getting any closer.

The manager, Don, sprinted down the aisle with a few other guys and pulled the attacker off of Y/n. The man fought back, growling and clawing relentlessly at her. One of the employees dropped him on the ground and sat on him, ensuring he didn’t go anywhere.

Y/n scrambled to her feet, Don came to embrace her.

“You okay?”

She was fighting to catch her breath, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“I’m callin’ the police,” Melinda announced, rushing off to the phone at the front desk.

“What happened?” Don asked, moving to hold Y/n’s arms.

“I-I don’t know,” she ran a hand through her hair, “He came down the aisle and just lunged at me. I-I just offered to help him.”

With the man still fighting to break out of his hold, making sounds that made him seem possessed, Don pulled Y/n out of the aisle.

“I’m sorry, Don,” Y/n apologized, her voice still trembling.

“You got nothin’ to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he quickly shook his head, “Men gotta learn they can’t go gettin’ rough on a woman just cause they’ve had a bad day.”

The police arrived within ten minutes, running down the aisle and cuffing the monstrous man. Y/n stayed far away from her attacker as he was dragged out of the store, residing between Melinda and Don. She’d been asked if she wanted to press charges, but she declined. She just wanted the whole thing to be over.

“Take off now,” Don offered after the officers left.

“No, I-I’m okay,” Y/n smoothed her apron down with shaking hands.

“Don’t even try,” Don shook his head, “Get on out of here.”

Y/n took the first breath she could actually feel, wasting no time in dashing back to the break room and grabbing her purse out of her locker. She wanted to be as far away from anything about the afternoon as she could. Plus, it would mean she could pick Sarah up straight from school instead of the Adlers.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Y/n bid her co-workers farewell on the way out.

Don rasied a hand alongside Melinda, “See ya tomorrow. Wish Joel a happy birthday from us!”

The mention of his name got a smile out of Y/n, “I will.”

With Joel and Tommy having dropped her off, she had to call a cab to take her back to her apartment. She held in her tears until the front door was locked and she knew she was safe.

Why hadn’t she fought back? Fought harder? She was great with her words, but she’d never been able to physically defend herself. In the world they lived in, it was becoming more and more necessary for a woman to be able to throw a punch. Y/n felt weak for not fighting for her safety with the ferocity that Joel or Tommy would have. It just wasn’t in her nature to be violent, even if her own life was on the line.

She managed to collect herself, drying her tears and heading back down to her car. She was determined to put the incident behind her and not let it ruin her day.

Y/n parked directly outside the front of the school so Sarah couldn’t miss her. She waited against the car door, tapping her heel against the asphalt until a barrage of kids came pouring out of the building. Sarah clocked her just before she headed for the bus.

“I thought you were picking me up at home,” she called across the street.

“My shift ended early,” Y/n explained, excluding the reason why.

Sarah opened the passenger side door and jumped in, “Can we grab ice cream or something after?”

“Nice try,” Y/n started up her car, “I’m dropping you off at the Adler’s after this.”

Sarah let her head fall against her seat, with a small groan.

“Half an hour and then there’ll be some big birthday emergency,” Y/n offered, turning onto the next street over, “Seatbelt.”

It was these small domestic moments that showed just how good of a parent Y/n would make. She still didn’t believe she was doing anything exceptional, but the smallest acts of care meant the most. Making sure Sarah walked on the inside of the street, making sure she’d eaten enough, helping her with homework…all of that equated to Sarah knowing she had someone else looking out for her.

They made it downtown to the jewelry-clock repair shop within minutes. Their part of Austin was small enough that everything was five minutes away.

The owner at the front counter examined Joel’s watch, “Twenty.”

“That’s it?” Sarah asked, surprised.

“Okay,” the man smiled, “Thirty.”

“My little negotiator,” Y/n looked down at Sarah, smirking, “Let’s stick with twenty.”

“It’s a spring,” he explained as Sarah pulled out the twenty she’d taken from Joel, “I’ll do it right now.”

Y/n put an arm around Sarah’s shoulders and tugged her into her side, the two of them absentmindedly hugging as they glanced around the store. Behind them, a line of police cars followed by a fire truck sped down the street. It pulled Y/n back to an hour before.

“All day, I swear,” a woman emerged from the shop’s back room, switching between speaking in English and Arabic, “We’re closing.”

“It’s 3:15,” the owner responded, “We close at 7.”

The woman anxiously stood at the window, staring down the street. She lapsed back into Arabic as she addressed her partner, before putting her hands on Y/n and Sarah’s arms, “I’m very sorry, he cannot finish.”

“I already finished,” the man replied, holding out the boxed watch to his wife.

She pressed the box into Y/n’s hands, “You should go home.”

“W-wait,” Y/n stuttered as the woman rushed them out of the shop, “Wh-“

“Go home,” the woman urged, staring into Y/n’s eyes with a desperation a child could never understand.

She shut the door on Y/n and Sarah, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ after and pulling the blinds.

“That was weird,” Sarah muttered.

“Yeah,” Y/n watched as the woman continued shutting the blinds in the windows.

Successful in their quest, Y/n and Sarah loaded themselves back in the car and headed home. On the way, they passed four more police cars and one more fire engine. Austin had its fair share of crime, especially downtown, but this was out of the ordinary.

“What do you think’s going on?” Sarah asked at one point.

“No idea,” Y/n answered, pulling them into the driveway of Joel’s home and unbuckling, “I’ll check the news. Go be a good person.”

“I’m timing you,” Sarah said firmly.

Y/n smiled, “Go.”

Sarah dragged herself and her backpack out of the car and trudged across the Adler’s lawn. Y/n watched her lovingly, she had the biggest heart of anyone she knew, it was just butting heads with teenage hormones.

Y/n let herself into the Miller’s house, her body relaxing as soon as the door shut. She kicked off her sneakers and headed for the living room, switching on the television. She changed the channel to the local news station, expecting to see a fire or mass shooting. All the anchors said was that there had been reports of heightened violence throughout the day and that citizens should avoid going downtown. That lined up with what Y/n had experienced at the store, apparently the city of Austin was acting like a collective asshole.

Satisfied, Y/n busied herself with laundry and taking care of the dishes from breakfast until she scanned the clock, seeing it was ten past the time she said she’d pick Sarah up at.

She went outside, crossed the shared lawn and knocked on the Adler’s front door. Connie was the one to open it.

“Well, there she is,” the woman exclaimed, “Come in!”

They entered into the hallway, which smelled like cookies and mothballs, and Y/n spotted Sarah sitting in the kitchen, bag packed and a barely concealed frown on her face.

“I’m sendin’ you two home with some cookies,” Connie said, bustling around the kitchen for a Ziploc, “They’re raisin.”

“Oh, yay,” Y/n feigned excitement, following her in and stroking a hand across Sarah’s hair, “Those’re Joel’s favorite.”

Sarah fought the laugh caught in her throat, Joel would’ve rather died than touch anything with raisins in it.

Connie handed Y/n the bag and took her other hand, “You tell him happy birthday from us.”

“We will,” Y/n smiled before they headed down the hall and to the door.

“Wait,” Sarah mumbled just as they were walking out. She stopped to see Mercy, the Adler’s dog, whining at Nana Adler, seated in her chair as usual.

“Dogs are super tuned into their owners,” Y/n explained, “Some studies suggest that they can sense if their person’s in pain.”

Sarah hummed and accepted the answer, exiting out the front door with Y/n. “You were late,” she stated.

“I was doing your laundry,” Y/n replied, dipping her hand along Sarah’s through a lawn sprinkler, “So I’d say we’re even.”

The sun was just setting, a warm pink taking over the sky as night’s opening act. Kids, home from school, were playfully screaming a few houses down. Everything felt perfectly in place.

An overhead thundering encroached on the peaceful scene, drawing Sarah and Y/n’s attention skyward. Three fighter jets in formation blew over their heads, flying in the general direction of downtown.

“Air Force base isn’t too far from here,” Y/n commented, it was the only explanation that made sense.

Sarah didn’t seem too concerned, cutting ahead across the lawn and up to the front porch.

Inside, Y/n busied herself with cooking dinner while Sarah sat at the table finishing up homework. The steaks she’d bought a few days prior had gone bad, and she was searching the fridge for anything she could turn into something special.

Pressing her forehead to the appliance’s cool steel, she admitted defeat.

“You know Dad’s not picky,” Sarah tried to comfort her.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to do something nice for him,” Y/n replied, kicking her foot lightly against the fridge, “But I suppose ordering Chinese is just as special.”

“We could always run by the store,” Sarah suggested.

“Mm-mm,” Y/n shook her head, digging through the takeout menu drawer, “No one’s going anywhere while there’s all those cops on the road.”

They ended up ordering enough for themselves, Joel and Tommy, if he decided to stay for dinner. As the night went on, the food grew cold, and by eight o’clock, Y/n and Sarah grew too hungry to wait and sat on the couch with their cartons.

“If he’s home by nine,” Sarah thought the next part of her sentence over carefully, “I’ll give you a whole week off of helping me with my homework.”

“Doesn’t feel like much of a win,” Y/n shrugged, picking at another piece of orange chicken. They were coming up with bets for when they thought Joel would actually return home, “I don’t mind being on homework duty.”

“Okay, fine, um…” Sarah continued drafting, snapping her chopsticks together, “I’ll do the dishes for a week. Every load.”

Y/n waved a chopstick at the girl, “Done. But if he’s home past nine, I will…get him to learn one of the Halican Drops’ songs,” she tilted her head, “That’s a win for you and will definitely cost me.”

Sarah laughed, “Deal.”

They spent the evening talking and watching tv, the later hours eventually tiring them. Sarah leaned up against Y/n, lost in a magazine while Y/n read a book she’d left on the coffee table. The television played lightly in the background, though they’d stopped paying attention long ago.

Eventually, five after ten, a pair of keys jingled in the front door lock, signaling Sarah had won the bet.

“You locked the door this time,” Joel said, addressing his daughter, “Good job.”

“Yeah,” Sarah switched off the tv and sat up, “Y/n reminded me.”

Y/n scooted over to give Joel a spot on the couch, he flopped down on the cushions, digging his palms into his eyes.

“It’s 10,” Sarah said what they were all thinking.

“I know,” Joel groaned, pulling back up to take off his boots, “They…gave us the wrong size for the headers,” he looked over his girlfriend to Sarah, “That doesn’t mean anything to you, barely means anything to Y/n. I’m sorry.”

Y/n’s fingers walked across Joel’s leg, “And dessert would be…?”

Joel slumped forward, “Shit.”

“Come on, man,” Sarah bemoaned.

“I’ll get us one tomorrow,” Joel promised for the second time that day.

“Swear,” Sarah replied, “Or you don’t get your present.”

Joel turned, brightening up adorably fast. “You got me a present?”

“Swear,” Sarah continued.

Y/n smiled, eyeing her boyfriend with the same loving frustration as Sarah.

“On my life,” Joel swore.

Deeming it an acceptable answer, Sarah rotated and dug behind a pillow. Joel slid his hand over Y/n’s, flattening it down against his knee.

Sarah presented the box, holding it out to her dad.

“Wow,” Joel said, making a theatrical face before opening it. He hadn’t expected what was inside.

“Fixed it for you,” Sarah beamed with reserved pride.

Joel ran a thumb over the watch and held it to his ear, furrowing his brows, “Did you?”

“What?” Sarah reached for his hand.

“I don’t hear anything,” Joel continued.

“It was working four hours ago,” Y/n exclaimed, adjusting herself to sit up and examine it for herself.

The two girls barely had to raise it to their ears before they could hear the strong ticking. Sarah groaned and lightly shoved Joel, who was heartily laughing.

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Screw you, man.”

“That was lame,” Sarah smiled, “You’re lame.”

“Yeah, I know,” Joel chuckled, taking another second to admire his gift, “Where’d you get the money for this?”

“Drugs,” Sarah answered, “I sell hardcore drugs.”

“It’s better than what I do,” Joel slipped the watch onto his wrist.

“It was only $20, which I stole from you.”

“Which I had,” Y/n interjected, “If you’d have given me two seconds...”

“I could have stolen $60, but I put the change back,” Sarah defended herself against Joel’s parental stare, “Because I’m an honest thief. Besides, it’s the thought that counts. And you were never gonna do it for yourself, so…”

Joel, never one to be selfish, looked on lovingly at his daughter and co-conspirator, before turning his head downward. “Thank you.”

Sarah smiled, looking to Y/n victoriously. “Oh, there’s one more,” she dug behind the pillow once again and retrieved a DVD case, “Borrowed it from the Adlers.”

Joel wasted no time in taking it from her, it was Curtis and Viper, the guiltiest of all guilty pleasure movies. “Oh, this is the one with the deleted scenes.”

“Yeah, imagine how bad those have to be,” Sarah commented, “Come on, pop it in, while it’s still your birthday.”

Y/n got up alongside Joel, “I’ll go heat up dinner and brace myself for the cinematic masterpiece I’m about to experience.”

“I showed it to you a while back,” Joel called out to her, “Remember?”

“I remember,” Y/n swung into the kitchen, “And yet I’m still with you.”

Joel smirked to himself, setting the disc in the tray and jogging off to join Y/n. “Chinese?”

“There was going to be something home cooked,” Y/n scooped some food onto a plate for Joel, “But the grocery gods were conspiring against me.”

“Kidding? This is great,” Joel replied, coming to hold Y/n’s hips and move around the kitchen with her. He settled his chin against her head, “Thank you. For all of it.”

Y/n leaned back into Joel’s chest, “I don’t see how crappy Chinese food and aiding your daughter in thievery deserves thanks but,” she twisted her neck to plant a kiss on his cheek, “I’ll take it.”

Joel absentmindedly ran his hands up Y/n’s arms, gazing down at her skin. His eyes drifted to her exposed neck, the glow of the microwave illuminating a purple splotch across her throat.

“What’s this?”

Y/n was watching the timer, “Hm?”

Joel pulled back the rest of her hair and lightly ran a finger over the skin, “Where’d you get this?”

Y/n pulled away, confusedly grabbing a spatchula out of a drawer and relfecting it back on her. Sure enough, there was a large purple bruise developing where the psycho in the hardware store had choked her.

“Hm,” Y/n thought, she hadn’t intended to ruin the levity of the night, “Uh, are we sure you didn’t put that there?”

Joel bristled at the idea, even at his most passionate, he wasn’t rough like that, “I’d never do this to you.”

Y/n sighed, pressing the ‘stop’ button on the microwave before it could beep. She pulled Joel’s food out, set it down and leaned up against the counter.

“A guy attacked me today at work,” she said softly, not wanting Sarah to hear.

Joel’s eyebrows raised two inches, his voice got low, “What?”

“He came down the aisle and just,” Y/n gestured suddenly to herself, “Tackled me to the ground. It took three of the guys, plus Don just to get him off of me.”

Joel surged forward, hovering his hand over Y/n’s neck and examining her, “How bad is it?”

“I’m okay,” Y/n gently took Joel’s hand, bringing it down to his side, “Headache from smacking my head on the floor, little sore, but fine.”

“Please tell me you called the police and pressed charges” Joel asked, fully in protector mode.

Y/n shook her head, “I didn’t wanna drag it out, I just wanted the whole thing to be over. The cops took him, they can deal with it.”

Joel braced himself against the counter to Y/n’s side, halfway-caging her in. “And you weren’t gonna tell me about it?”

“It’s your birthday,” Y/n smiled softly up at her boyfriend, “I just wanted to come home and have a normal evening with you guys. Forget it ever happened.”

Anger swelled in Joel’s stomach for whatever freak had gone after her, but his gaze stayed soft. Her pain was his pain.

“Wanna know what the worst part was?” Y/n asked, looping a finger through Joel’s and smiling sadly, “I could have fought back…but I just laid there. I tried to push him off but…”

There was no need for her to finish the sentence. Joel’s mind flashed back to the night they’d met, when that creep had laid his hand on her and she hadn’t fought back. It was one of his deepest worries, that one day someone would come at her and he wouldn’t be there to protect her.

“Can you please,” he begged, “Enroll in a self-defense class?”

“Yes,” Y/n agreed, saying whatever she could to get the night to return to normal, “I think there’s one down at the community center.”

Joel’s shoulders rose and fell with his sigh, cupping the back of her neck and drawing her into his body. She wrapped her arms around his middle, digging her face into his pec.

“I hate the world sometimes,” Joel said over her shoulder.

Y/n scoffed, “You and me both, bucko.”

They stood in each other’s arms a moment, letting the stress of the day melt away.

“Your daughter’s waiting,” Y/n smiled into Joel’s chest, “And she’s been waiting all night.”

Joel broke from her, stroking a thumb over her cheek. He was looking forward to revealing the reason for his late night hours.

With dinner in hand, Joel and Y/n headed back into the living room, where Sarah was waiting with the remote. Joel settled down in the middle of the couch, giving him room to be surrounded by his two favorite people.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he warned, as Sarah snuggled into his shoulder.

“‘Course I won’t,” she said, “It’s too riveting.”

“I make no such promises,” Y/n replied, hanging one of her legs on Joel’s knee.

Both of them were out cold within an hour.

Joel couldn’t complain even if he tried. With Sarah passed out on his leg Y/n tucked under his arm, it was the happiest he’d been the whole day.

While watching the movie, Joel’s mind kept spinning around proposal ideas. If he got the ring in the morning, he could do it that night. Or did he need to spend more time, crafting some elaborate idea involving doves and roses and all the movie shit? Y/n wasn’t fancy, she probably wouldn’t care if that was missing. All he cared about was that she said ‘yes’ and that the ring was something she could cherish the rest of their lives.

Joel gazed down at his daughter and soon-to-be fiancé, fast asleep on him. A lifetime of that was a thought he could get used to…

The vibration of his cell phone broke Joel out of his daydream. He reached forward, trying not to wake either girl, bur Y/n stirred enough to come to.

“Sorry,” he whispered, picking up the call, “Hello?”

“Joel, it’s me,” Tommy’s voice cut through, Y/n’s head was close enough to hear the call, “Uh, I’m okay.”

“Yeah?” Joel asked.

“But I’m in jail.”

Y/n sat up groggily as Joel arched back into the couch, rubbing his eyes in stress.

“Wasn’t my fault this time,” Tommy was quick to defend himself, “I was at the bar, some guy goes crazy, starts swingin’ at waitresses, I stepped in, knocked him out, cops showed up-”

Joel and Y/n shared an exhausted look, both from true tiredness and Tommy.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Tommy hurried, “You gotta bail me out.”

“Now?” Joel hissed.

“It’s Friday,” Tommy said, “You don’t get me out, I’m in here all weekend. It’s a fuckin’ madhouse, Joel. I gotta get out.”

Y/n rubbed the sleep out of her eye, and lowered her voice, “I’ll go get him.”

Joel’s hand shot out across Y/n’s legs, “No,” he switched conversations, “Well, which jail. Travis County?”

“Yeah, on 10th,” his little brother answered.

“Damn it, Tommy,” Joel shook his head.

Tommy took a breath, “I’m sorry…please.”

Joel waited before answering, “Okay,” he hung up his cell, “Fuckin’ idiot.”

“Joel, just let me go,” Y/n offered, gesturing to Sarah using his leg as a pillow, “You got him last time.”

“I don’t want you out this late,” Joel shot down the idea a second time, “Especially in that part of town. I’ll be back, hour tops.”

Carefully, Joel eased Sarah off of him and lifted her into his arms. He carried her upstairs to bed while Y/n stayed on the couch, trying to get her bearings.

Joel came back downstairs, grumbling to himself as he collected his wallet and keys.

“We do all this,” Y/n gestured to the empty dinner plate and gift box, “And Tommy’s still gotta one up us.”

“Yeah, well,” Joel muttered, throwing his cell phone in his pocket, “I shoulda just left him in there.”

Y/n looked up amusedly at her boyfriend, “Yeah, like you’d ever do that.”

Joel’s instinct was to protect, he couldn’t have left his brother to rot for the weekend if he tried.

Y/n got to her feet and slid a hand up Joel’s chest, bringing his restlessness to a halt. She wrapped her other hand around the base of his neck, rubbing at the permanently tense muscles.

“Happy Birthday to you,” she sleepily smiled.

Joel leaned forward to connect his lips to Y/n’s. In an ideal world, he’d carry her upstairs and they’d fall asleep in each other’s arms. But after rescuing Tommy, they’d have the whole weekend for that. Still, he poured as much love as he could into his kiss.

Neither of them knew it would be the last one they shared.

“Be safe,” Y/n told him once they broke apart.

“I will,” Joel replied, heading for the front door, “Go to bed. Be back soon.”

Y/n nodded, her eyes following him till he was out of the house. In her stupor, she wasn’t thinking of how packed the streets had been earlier in the day with cop cars. Or how the news had said there’d been increased violence in the city. Or how the story Tommy had recounted sounded eerily similar to hers. She was just tired enough that all that made sense to her was climbing into Joel’s bed and going back to sleep.

Slowly climbing the staircase, Y/n made her way down the hall. She paused outside of Sarah’s room, poking her head in to make sure she was settled. Joel had thrown a blanket over her and she was rolling over. Satisfied, Y/n pushed off of the door frame to leave.

“Mom?”

She froze in her tracks, she’d barely moved out of sight before Sarah had called for…someone. Not her. It couldn’t be her. But who else? She had no memory of her birth mo-

“Mom?”

Y/n’s chest fluttered, it could only be her. She hesitated to answer, “Yeah?”

“Where’s Dad?” Sarah asked, her eyes were still scrunched but she was looking to Y/n’s silhouette.

“He had to run by Uncle Tommy’s,” Y/n answered, saving the full answer for the morning, “He’ll be back soon.”

Sarah seemed to accept the response, nodding a little and settling back into her pillow.

“Goodnight,” Y/n wished, her hands awkwardly fidgeting against her chest.

“Night,” Sarah mumbled.

Slipping against the nearest wall, Y/n’s breath trembled with joy, shock…she couldn’t tell. Sarah had made up her mind as to what Y/n was to her…and what she was was a mother.

Feeling like she was floating, Y/n made her way down the hall to the bed that was as good as her own and slid underneath the sheets. Her smile stretched so wide, she thought her cheeks might split. She couldn’t wait to tell Joel when he got home….

—————————

First came the sirens.

Then came the choppers.

Then the car alarms.

And the flares.

Y/n was the first to wake, the sound of helicopter blades and the sensation of the house rattling waking her. She reached over in the dark for Joel and grasped air. The clock read 2:15AM, he’d left at 11.

That was enough to wake Y/n the rest of the way up.

She rolled out of bed and went to the window, peeking through the blinds to see flares being shot into the sky. Though her vision was blurred from sleep, she could see the smoke cloud in the distance. It was coming from downtown.

“Dad?” Sarah called down the hall, “Y/n?”

“In here,” Y/n said, still watching the sky as another round of helicopters flew over their neighborhood.

Sarah came through the door, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n answered, her stomach twisting in confusion, “Go check if your dad’s downstairs.”

Sarah left, calling for Joel as she descended the staircase. “He’s not here,” she yelled up.

Y/n’s chest sank, anxiety beginning to creep its way up her throat. Was this some kind of invasion? It had barely been two years since 9/11, was something of that scale happening in their backyard?

“Y/n!”

The urgency in Sarah’s voice got Y/n moving out the bedroom and down the stairs as quick as she could. “What is it?”

Sarah had switched on the tv, the emergency broadcast signal was on every channel, delivering an ominous message to stay indoors and wait for law enforcement.

A thud against the window had Y/n pulling Sarah to her chest, the girl wrapping her hands around Y/n’s wrists. Mercy, the Adler’s dog, had his paws against the window and was trying to get inside.

“Stay here,” Y/n told Sarah, heading to unlock the front door. She crouched down on the porch and the dog leaned against her legs, whining. “Shh, Mercy, shh…”

“Is he okay?” Sarah asked, right behind Y/n.

“I think,” Y/n answered, clueless as Mercy panted furiously under her touch. She looked across the street, finding nothing out of the ordinary visually. Audibly, there were car alarms coming from all directions and the chopper was making another circle around the subdivision. Something felt very, very wrong.

“Stay here,” Y/n told Sarah, “I’m gonna take a look around.”

“No, I’m coming with-“

“No,” Y/n’s tone firmed up, “Take Mercy inside and stay-“

Mercy started barking as if he knew he was being discussed. Y/n knew nothing she said would get Sarah to listen, she was out of options.

“Let’s get him back home,” she said.

Sarah led Mercy by the collar across the lawn and onto the Adler’s driveway. Once he realized he was back at his house, Mercy began to whine and pull away from Sarah.

“C’mon, Mercy, please,” Sarah begged.

Mercy pulled one final time, the collar unclipping and letting him loose. He took off into the night.

“Mercy!” Sarah called, he was too far gone to hear her.

“It’s okay,” Y/n quickly tried to smooth Sarah’s heartbreak over, “We’ll find him. But first, we’re going home and-“

Clanking from inside the Adler’s home drew their attention.

“Mrs. Adler?” Sarah called, receiving no answer, she looked to Y/n to decide their next move.

Y/n was torn between following the noise and running back home to call Joel.

“Stay behind me,” she decided, placing herself in front of Sarah as a barricade.

They crept up the Adler’s porch, letting themselves in through the ajar door. The carpet runner was scrunched up, something the meticulous Connie would have never allowed.

“Connie?” Y/n announced their presence.

“Mrs. Adler?” Sarah repeated, the two of them frozen in the hallway.

Another loud sound from the kitchen, followed by a distant gunshot and chased by a car alarm.

Y/n tried to inhale steadily, but the trembling came anyway. The long stretches of silence broken up by what sounded like war were creating a steady pit of fear in her chest.

She reached backwards, pulling Sarah closer to her body. The girl was already holding onto Y/n’s hips. They took soft steps through the hall and to the kitchen.

“Con-“ Y/n held on to the room divider as she stumbled, looking down to see the slippery substance across the floor.

Blood.

Sarah and Y/n’s breaths caught in their chests as their eyes followed the trail of crimson through the kitchen…to Mr. Adler, laid against the cabinets.

“Help me,” he whispered, a particularly gory wound to his neck oozing blood down his body.

Y/n moved to help him but was yanked back by Sarah, who already had eyes on the next terror.

Nana Adler was hung over her daughter, her face burrowed into her neck.

Y/n eased Sarah back, making no sudden movements, as the elderly woman slowly looked up to them. There were strands of something springing from her mouth, it was something out of a horror movie.

Nana rose to her feet, her movements choppy and careless, and Sarah wrapped her arms around Y/n’s torso.

The woman, animalistic, shrieked and ran towards them.

Y/n shoved Sarah back towards the door, racing out of the house and onto the lawn. She was pulling the girl toward their house when the roar of a pickup truck came barreling down the street.

Tommy’s truck.

Tommy pulled the truck up onto the curb, Joel jumped out before it had even stopped.

“GET IN THE TRUCK,” he yelled at Y/n and Sarah, “RIGHT NOW!”

With Sarah in her hands, Joel grabbed Y/n and pulled them to the vehicle, “Move!”

Nana Adler came screaming out of the house, Y/n and the Millers watching the bones in her body violently crack under her skin before she fell to the ground. They waited in anticipation until she startled back to life with a gasp, stumbling to her feet and charging towards the family.

“What are we doin’, Joel?” Tommy yelled, his rifle pointed at the grandmother.

Y/n wrapped Sarah in her arms, shielding her body from any harm, but not her eyes.

Joel wasted no time in making the decision, it was either her, or the women he loved. He slashed the wrench he was clutching into Nana’s head, the life leaving her as she dropped.

After, he turned to Y/n and Sarah, their tearful eyes widened in horror. He rushed to them, bending to cup Sarah’s cheek.

“You killed her,” the girl said, unable to form a deeper thought.

Joel pulled his daughter and partner into his arms, “Baby, I’m sorry.”

“Joel, we gotta go,” Tommy warned.

“Joel,” Y/n shook, “What’s going on?”

“Listen to me,” he looked to both his girls, “It’s not just the Adlers,” he took Sarah’s cheeks into his hands, “But we’re gonna be brave, and we’re gonna get out of this.”

A flash of green to their left and Joel was covering them with his arms. The transformer at the end of the block had exploded.

“Hey,” Tommy rounded the truck, “Let’s go. C’mon!”

Joel and Y/n hurried Sarah in front of them, “Get in.”

Y/n stopped before joining her, gripping Joel’s arm, “Joel…”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, posessing no more answers than she did, “I don’t know.”

Y/n dove into the truck, pulling Sarah into her arms the minute she was seated.

Joel slammed the door shut, his neighbor calling his name out in concern.

“Denise, you get back inside the house,” he yelled, “You lock your doors! Now!”

“C’mon, c’mon, get in,” Tommy urged.

The second Joel’s door shut, Tommy was already pulling them around the cul-de-sac. As he rounded the turn, Mr. and Mrs. Adler came across their lawn and into the street, in the same possessed state as Nana had been.

“Get your seatbelt on,” Joel told Tommy.

“Hold on,” his brother said, accelerating the engine and ramming into the Adlers head on.

Y/n tried to pull Sarah’s head into her shoulder, but the girl was too quick, already looking out the back to see Mrs. Adler on her feet.

“You take 70-“ Joel began to give directions.

“71,” Tommy finished, “I know.”

A line of police cars blew down the opposite lane, speeding towards more chaos they didn’t even understand.

Sarah’s breath had steadied enough where she could speak clearly, “Daddy-“

“We don’t know,” Joel cut her off.

“They’re saying it’s a virus,” Tommy explained, “Some kinda parasite.”

“What parasite does that?” Y/n asked, knowing none of them had an answer.

“Is it from terrorists?” Sarah asked, her voice getting watery.

“We don’t know,” Joel repeated himself, watching his brother as he drove.

“A-are we sick?” Sarah’s panic was growing.

“No, we’re not sick,” Y/n answered immediately.

Joel fiddled with the radio, getting static back in return.

“Why did things blow up?” Sarah asked.

“No cellphone, no radio,” Tommy mused, “Minute ago, newsman wouldn’t shut up.”

“They were broadcasting emergency signals on the tv,” Y/n recalled, as if it made any difference now.

“How do you know?” Sarah kept up her questioning.

“What?” Joel acknowledged her.

Sarah couldn’t hide her tears any more, “How do you know we’re not sick?”

Y/n stroked her hair, offering what little comfort she could while also sharing Sarah’s terror.

“They’re sayin’ it’s mostly people in the city,” Tommy explained, “That’s why they got the highway blocked off.”

Joel craned his head to meet Y/n’s eyes, “This what happened at the store today?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered, flashing back to 12 hours before. Her attacker hadn’t had the strange strands hanging from his mouth, but he’d had the same animal-like rage.

The car fell silent again as they passed a house, the whole structure consumed by flames.

“It’s Jimmy’s place,” Tommy said as they drove by.

“The Adlers would take Nana into the city,” Sarah continued to try and solve the puzzle, “To the hospital for stuff.”

“That’s right,” Joel agreed, “They would. That’s probably why.”

“But…” Sarah’s brain worked double time, “You’d have to go a lot…right?”

Tommy shook his head slightly, “We’re fine, trust me.”

Through the dashboard mirror, Y/n’s worried eyes met Tommy’s. He was saying a prayer rather than stating a promise.

On the side of the road, a car was pulled over, a family standing outside it waving their hands wildly. “Here! Right here!”

Tommy began to slow down, drawing Joel’s confusion. “What’re you doin’?”

“They got a kid, Joel,” Tommy gestured to the family.

“So do we,” Joel said firmly, “Keep drivin’.”

The father panicked as Tommy followed orders, screaming for them to stop.

“We could put them in the back,” Sarah offered just as they passed them by.

Y/n’s heart sank as the father’s cries echoed in her ears, her eyes drifting to the back of Joel’s head.

“Somebody else’ll come along,” he said to the car, but mostly to himself.

Sarah, trying so hard to remain calm, let her tears fall silently. Whatever shred of reality they could make of the chaos around them was starting to sink in on Y/n too. She pulled Sarah deeper into her arms, feeling the girl’s sadness land on her skin.

Tommy sped down the lane, trying to get on the freeway, and meeting the sea of likeminded cars.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed, “Everyone had the same fuckin’ idea.

Panicked drivers were speeding towards them, the little white lines on the asphalt ceasing to matter.

“I can’t get through this,” Tommy said, dodging the cars.

“All right, all right,” Joel tried to remain calm, “Let’s think it through, we’ll think it through.”

“Tommy!” Y/n cried as another reckless driver nearly clipped them.

“All right, take the field,” Joel directed, “We’ll cut across and pick up on the-the west side.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tommy’s breath shook, “West, west, all right. All right, hang on.”

Sarah held onto Y/n a little tighter, bracing herself as Tommy went off road into the tall grass. The truck dipped and bounced with the land, until they met smooth dirt…giving them a view of the freeway. The military had already set up shop.

“Shit,” Tommy exclaimed, “Fuckin’ army!”

“Isn’t that good?” Sarah asked

“It’s good for them” Tommy said, “But that’s the highway we’re tryin’ to get to.”

Joel’s brain was spinning with roads, “All right, keep movin’. Head north.”

“Could be a lot of people,” Tommy pointed out.

“Well, we can’t go south, we can’t go east, we can’t go west,” Joel replied, “Hell else we supposed to go?”

Tommy hesitated, his hands nervously gripping the wheel.

“Tommy, come on,” Joel yelled, his own anxiety beginning to show itself.

Listening, Tommy turned the truck north, leading them towards the distant light of a small town.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that place,” Joel said, “This can work.”

“Joel,” Y/n spoke up, “What then? Where are we going?”

He didn’t know, he barely could remember the numbers of the highways. All he knew was he needed to get his family to some sort of safety. “I don’t know, Mexico,” he blurted out, “Just far, far as we can,” he looked to his brother, “How much gas?”

“Three quarter tank,” Tommy answered, it was enough to make it to the border.

“Go through town,” Joel began to list off directions, “Golf course by the river, straight across, we pick up the highway on the other side of the blockade…” he exhaled, “Then we’re out.”

“Maybe it’s everywhere,” Sarah theorized, trying so desperately to make sense of what was happening, “Maybe there’s nowhere to go.”

Joel and Yn’s worried eyes met in the dashboard mirror, they were both wondering the same thing. Illnesses didn’t stay quarantined to just one city in one state, they spread like vines, reaching for any life they could. What if this parasite worked the same way?

A loud roar began to encroach on the truck from above.

“What the fuck?” Tommy exclaimed.

Sarah and Y/n shielded their ears from the noise, looking up through the roof’s glass top to catch a low-flying plane directly above them. There were a line of three more trailing the sky behind them.

“Shit,” Y/n whispered, her facade for Sarah was fading.

Down the road, the red white and blue lights of a police car became a stumbling block. “Son of a bitch,” Tommy complained, “Gotta go around. Grab somethin’!”

Joel reached an arm back, both to brace himself against Tommy’s seat and give Y/n something to hold onto. Sarah held fast to Y/n as Tommy made a hard right down the next street. The town they’d turned into had descended fully into chaos, its residents running wildly through the streets, either screaming for help or attacking one other.

“All right,” Joel talked his brother through the roads, “Keep goin’, keep goin’,” he looked to his left to see a truck barreling towards them, “Shit, Tommy!”

The tire screech had Y/n flipping Sarah’s body over hers, making herself a human shield. Thankfully, the crash never came.

The next street Tommy turned them down was even worse. People were beating each other senselessly in the street, the screams of the wounded piercing their ears.

“Tommy, you can’t stop here,” Joel said as his brother slowed the car.

He gestured to the crowds, “I can’t drive through ‘em.”

“Are you serious?” Joel yelled, “Just keep goin’!”

Up ahead, an explosion shattered the windows of a building, eliciting every person inside to run for their lives, all headed towards the truck.

“Go, go, go,” Joel urged, smacking the dashboard a little harder with each utterance, “Back, back, back, back, back, back, back!”

“I’m tryin’!” Tommy yelled back.

Y/n caught the faces of people as they ran past, the terror, the confusion in their eyes. One woman had blood streaming down her chest, the deep red turning her white blouse deathly crimson.

“Tommy, go faster,” Joel berated, “We gotta go!”

“I’m tryin’, there’s nowhere to fuckin’ go,” Tommy said, maneuvering them backwards.

“Tommy,” Y/n couldn’t stay quiet, “Fuck, anywhere!”

“Find an alley!” Joel added.

“What alley?! There’s people everywhere!”

“Roll the fuck over them,” Joel ordered, “We gotta get off this street.”

Sarah had shifted out of Y/n’s arms and was staring out the back, watching as the humanity was sucked out of her city. In the sky, she could spot bright, blinking lights headed straight for them.

She blindly reached for Y/n’s hand, “Dad?!”

Y/n and Joel both turned, their eyes falling on the same sight. One of the planes was headed straight towards them.

“Fuck,” Y/n uttered breathlessly.

“Move…” Joel managed to say, “Move!”

The plane completed its nosedive into the road behind them, exploding in a fiery inferno. Joel reached back to grab hold of Sarah, Y/n shoved her down into her lap.

None of them saw the piece of debris heading for the truck.

—————————

Joel was the first one to wake up. He struggled out of his seatbelt, dropping to the roof of the flipped truck and looking into the back.

Y/n and Sarah were out cold.

Sarah’s leg was elevated, her foot caught in some part of the truck. Y/n lay in a terrifyingly still ball.

“Sarah…Sarah…” Joel weakly called, tugging on her free leg and startling her awake, “Stay right there. Don’t move,” he looked to Y/n, “Y/n, wake up.”

No response.

“Rosebud,” Joel urged, his voice betraying him and turning to a whine, “Honey, get up.”

“Y/n,” Sarah disobeyed her father, fear-stricken, and stretched her arm out to shake Y/n.

Y/n gasped, waking up the same way she’d passed out; panicked.

“Joel,” she cried out, “Sarah?”

“We’re here,” Joel reassured her, a hand to her arm, “We’re here. Tommy? You okay?”

Tommy grunted, trying to free himself, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

With a pounding headache, and the feeling of air hitting small cuts across her face, Y/n struggled to her knees. Nothing felt broken inside her, just weak.

Sarah’s breathing began to pick up, turning her body to stare out the busted window. Twenty feet away, someone was heaving over a body, draining it of blood the same way Nana Adler had.

“Sarah,” Joel moved to the back of the truck, “Don’t look. You look at me or Y/n, okay?”

Y/n was at Joel’s side instantly, gently holding Sarah’s calf so he could free her leg. The girl winced as Joel worked.

“I’m sorry, baby, I know, I know,” he apologized profusely, letting her leg drop into Y/n’s hands.

“Come here,” he urged his daughter, “Put your arms around me. Come here, come here,” he pulled Sarah into his embrace, “I got you.”

Y/n was crawling past, into the driver’s half of the truck, “Tommy?”

Tommy was already out, kneeling down at the window, “Come on, take my hand!”

Straining to reach him, Y/n slapped her palms against his and he dragged her out. She could feel the glass scrape against her skin, trying to hold her cries in for Sarah’s sake.

Tommy and Y/n pulled each other to their feet, Tommy reaching for his rifle after. Joel and Sarah had made it out on the other side. Y/n rushed around the wreckage of the truck to reach them, grabbing them both, “What’s wrong?”

“My ankle,” Sarah strained.

“We gotta get off the street,” Tommy urged, a fast approaching siren sending him diving for the asphalt, “Shit!”

A police van slammed into their truck, creating a fire between the two vehicles. Joel and Y/n shielded Sarah from the flames, “Tommy?”

Y/n wrapped her arms around Sarah, trying to take some of the weight off her ankle and freeing Joel.

“Tommy!” Joel screamed again.

Separated by the two totaled bodies, the brothers found each other.

“Head to the river,” Tommy shouted, “I’ll find a way!”

Joel hesitated to leave his brother behind, regardless of his competency.

“Get ‘em out of here,” Tommy insisted, “Go, Joel!”

It was the mention of Y/n and Sarah that snapped him back, he immediately turned and bent down to Sarah’s eye level.

“We can’t leave him,” she argued.

“Joel-“ Y/n began.

“He’ll be fine,” Joel said, “Can you both run?”

“No,” Sarah said as Y/n nodded.

Joel bent over and swung his daughter into his arms.

“You keep your eyes on us,” Joel half demanded, half begged Sarah, “Okay?”

“Okay,” she breathed.

“And don’t look anywhere else,” he finished, his panicked gaze moving to Y/n, “Don’t let go.”

Y/n locked one arm around Joel’s shoulders, the other under Sarah’s legs, needing one hand on them both.

The three of them rushed through the street, lost as to how to get to the river. Joel stopped in fear when they found a grouping of bodies, groaning, writhing, devouring one another on the ground. He guided Sarah’s head back into his body, but she’d already seen too much.

One of the monsters popped up, eerily fast.

Y/n and Joel’s hearts collectively stopped, anxiety kick starting them to run for the back door of a building. They dove inside, Y/n running ahead to bang on the locked door.

“Move,” Joel cried, kicking down the wood and pulling them through it, “Get ahead!”

Y/n jumped in front of them, racing down the length of the diner. She could hear the frantic footsteps and growls of the monster chasing them.

Slamming her body into the second door, Y/n cleared the path for Joel, the two of them sprinting away from the encroaching death nipping at their heels. The monster snarled as it came after them, too quick for Y/n or Joel even at their fastest-

BANG!

A shotgun fire silenced the animalistic sounds, Joel spun around to see the creature laid out in the grass, blood spilling from its head.

“It’s okay, baby,” he assured Sarah, “You’re safe.”

Y/n’s hands dropped to Joel’s arm, resting her head against his shoulder in an effort to catch her breath.

“C’mon,” Joel urged, turning around for the way of the river.

A searchlight hit them.

“Don’t move,” a stern voice commanded, through the light, Y/n and Joel could make out it was a soldier.

“My daughter’s hurt,” Joel explained, “Her ankle.”

“Stop right there,” the soldier ordered, they’d barely moved in his direction.

Y/n and Sarah both trembled, in shock at the sight of the rifle pointed at them.

“Okay,” Joel backed down, taking them the slightest step back, “Easy now. We’re not sick!”

The soldier reached for his radio, reporting into it, “I got three civilians by the river, one of ‘em injured,” he waited for a response, “Ankle.”

“What about Uncle Tommy?” Sarah looked up to Joel.

“We’re gonna get you somewhere safe first,” Joel panted, “Then we’ll go back for him, okay?”

“Okay,” Sarah accepted.

Y/n rubbed a hand over Sarah’s uninjured leg. The horror still had yet to be named, but they were so close to asylum from it.

An impatient Joel took a step forward, earning another up and close look at the rifle’s barrel.

“Hey,” the soldier shouted, “No one told you to move.”

Y/n trembled against Joel’s arm as they waited, why was it taking so long?

“Yes sir,” the soldier said into his radio, his voice having shifted and making Y/n and Joel’s stomachs tighten.

The gun came back up.

“We’re not sick,” Joel echoed, knowing what was about to happen.

“W-w-wait,” Y/n’s lips began to shake, she held out a hand to the soldier, “We’re not sick.”

“Sir,” Joel urged again, his voice rising with every second of silence, “We are not sic-“

Bullets rained down on the three of them, the force of the lead sending them rolling down the hill.

Joel pushed himself off his stomach, a harsh light on him drawing him onto his back. The soldier was mere inches from him, his rifle trained on Joel’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, he almost sounded genuine.

“Please don’t,” Joel begged, raising his hands.

Y/n had rolled farther than Joel, already weak from the crash and now with a pain radiating in her side. One of the bullets had definitely grazed her. She was able to push up onto her arms, dragging her gaze across the dirt and spotting the position her boyfriend was in.

“JOEL!”

The soldier was thrown forward, a bullet from behind lodging in his chest. Joel looked up to see Tommy, marching forward with his rifle still trained on the dead soldier.

Joel hurried to sit up, running a hand his side, a bullet had scraped across the skin.

Y/n let out a breath as she watched Joel move, her eyes scanning around her for Sarah.

“Oh, God,” Tommy breathed.

Frantic breaths could be heard, closest to Y/n and furthest from Joel.

Y/n froze at the sight.

Then she was rising, racing to the spot.

Joel was right behind her. “No…” he mumbled, “Oh, no.”

Y/n made it to Sarah first, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes ran over her body. Her attempts at breath were wracking through her violently.

“No, no, no,” Joel shushed his daughter, pressing a hand to her neck, “Okay, you’re okay. You’re okay, move your hand, baby.”

“Sarah, move your hand,” Y/n rubbed the girl’s cheek, “We gotta take a look, babe.”

Sarah let her hand drop to her side, revealing the blood that covered her entire lower abdomen.

Joel felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Y/n felt her entire body lock up.

Joel was the first to move, slipping an arm under Sarah’s shoulders. She let out the most heartbreaking cry, pain flooding her body as she reached to push her father away.

“I know, baby, I know,” Joel agreed, “I know, I know, I know. I know it hurts.”

Sarah’s breaths came quicker, groans accompanying them as she strained to take in air.

“Eyes on me,” Y/n urged, taking her face into both palms and rubbing her thumbs across the skin, “Don’t look down. Look at me.”

Sarah struggled to move her lips, barely pressing them together and humming. She was trying to say something.

“Shh, shh,” Y/n tried to keep her calm, “It’s okay.”

“Come on, baby,” Joel soothed as he examined her wound, “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

Another wave of unbearable pain hit Sarah as Joel pressed down on her wound, trying to slow the bleeding.

“I know, I know, I know,” the panic finally reached Joel’s voice, “I know, baby. I know, I know. I know this hurts. You’re gonna be okay.”

Sarah’s breaths grew ragged.

“You’re okay,” Y/n fought back the relentless tears, keeping her hands on Sarah’s cheeks, “You’re okay. I promise. You’re okay.”

“All right, baby, baby, baby,” Joel tried to talk over and in between Sarah’s noises, “Listen to me, I gotta get you up, okay?”

Sarah shook her head, her eyes widened with terror she couldn’t physically put into words.

“Babe, we have to get you up, okay?” Y/n continued, “It’s gonna hurt like hell for a second, but it’ll be alright.”

“All right,” Joel couldn’t wait any longer, “You come on.”

Y/n moved around to help lift Sarah’s back, her and Joel working as a team to raise her. Sarah groaned and wept as they shifted her body.

“I know, baby,” Joel was on the verge of tears as Sarah strained to help herself up, gripping his neck. “I know, I know, I know,” his voice rose in fear, “I know, I know, I know.”

Joel turned to where he’d left his brother, “Tommy, help me!”

Tommy didn’t move, “Joel…”

Sarah’s body stopped shaking under Y/n’s hands, her chest went still.

“Sarah,” Y/n begged, “C’mon, babe.”

“C’mon, baby girl,” Joel whimpered, moving frantically to loop an arm around her, “I gotta get you up. Come on. Come on, we’ll get up.”

Rising on her knees, Y/n hung her head over Sarah’s. The girl’s eyes were blank, her lips were parted.

“Come on,” Joel sobbed, his pleas dropping off as reality began to invade his blind hope, “Come…please…”

It was too late.

Joel took Sarah fully into his arms, wrapping around her so tight, he thought he might be able to physically put her back together.

Any air Y/n still had in her chest left her body, her hands resting in midair as if she was still holding the child.

She crawled to Joel, covered in blood, rocking Sarah’s body and sobbing breathlessly over her shoulder.

It was real.

“Sa-“ Y/n whispered, tears starting to flood down her cheeks. Her voice dropped to a whimper, “Sarah.”

If the universe could grieve a human being, it was Sarah Miller’s passing that brought it to tears. No part of the Earth would be spared from the chaos that had claimed her. No corner of the planet would ever bloom and flourish as it had when she was alive. When she ascended, she took humanity and all of its beauty with her.

And the souls of the two people cradling her corpse, screaming into the night, went with her.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags continued in comments)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fic #twenty years later

[mrselvisbutler]

Whole lotta Shakin going on

Summary: Elvis gets very antsy during a makeout

You hummed to yourself as you piled the homemade Mac and cheese onto the plates for you and Elvis. The television sound was coming in from the other room and it was some musical you didn't know, but you pretended to know the rhythm as you hummed along.

Then you got the plates and brought them into the living room, glancing at Elvis on the couch. He looked handsome tonight, really handsome. He'd been forced to go to some meeting where he'd had to wear a suit and tie, and while he'd taken off the jacket and loosened the tie he still was dressed sharply for laying casually on the couch. His legs were spread wide and his black hair was long, falling on his forehead with a slight curl.

He looked at you and grinned wide, a perfect row of white teeth on a slightly crooked smile.

"Thank you, doll." He said when you offered the plate to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence as the movie played on the television. The lights of it bounced off his face and illuminated it in a sweet, tender way. You tried to not stare too intensely, but Elvis was ridiculously handsome.

You finished and put the plate on the coffee table, stretching your legs out in front of you and casually laying them on Elvis's lap. When he thought you wouldn't see, Elvis smiled at the contact and brought a hand to run up and down your leg while he ate and watched. Then he finished, the movie came to a close and he clicked the television off.

It was just the two of you, Elvis's knee bouncing beneath you and his hand sliding up and down your skin with a soft hum on his lips. That hum, that soft note that carried through his body and sounded all sweet and gravelly, sent a certain warmth to your core. You found yourself closing your eyes and twisting your hips a little as you imagined his voice against your skin.

"Whatchu thinkin bout?" Elvis asked, and when you opened your eyes he had a mischievous grin on his face.

You licked your lips, pulling your legs to you so you could crawl to him. You placed a knee on either side of his hips and held his face in your hands.

"May I kiss you, Elvis?" You asked breathlessly.

"Always," he responded, shutting his eyes as you claimed his lips. They were plump, soft, and warm. Elvis didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, opening his jaw wide to accommodate for your warm tongue. You went slowly, caressing him with your lips to figure out what felt best in this angle.

His knee was still bouncing from under you, shaking your body, and his hands seemed completely restless. They traveled up and down your torso, quickly squeezing your boobs then touching anything nearby. He was very antsy today, more than usual.

You parted from him, breathing heavily as you said, "there's a whole lotta shaking going on, Elvis."

"Sorry baby," he said, his voice a slight groan and his fingers tightened as they slipped to your ass.

You dropped your head down and peppered hot, open kisses along his jawline and neck. Elvis groaned, still shaking beneath you.

"Now that won't do," you said with a playful pout on your lips. Your hands, which had been resting on his chest, felt the fabric of his loose tie. An idea struck. You undid it, then held it in front of Elvis's face to ask for confirmation. His eyes widened but he nodded.

While you maintained eye contact, purposefully looking into his blue eyes, you tied his wrists together. Then you lifted them and tucked them behind his head. He could easily bring his arms back down and slip from the ties, and he knew it. But instead he watched with bated breath as you slowly stripped off your clothes while on his lap. Then you went for his.

His arms made it so you couldn't fully remove his shirt, but you didn't mind. You unbuttoned it slowly, kissing each patch of exposed skin until his tanned chest was revealed to you. You couldn't help but rake your nails down his abdomen, feeling the way he shuddered under your touch.

"Please," he moaned, moving his hips to match yours. The tent in his trousers hit your thigh and it was surprisingly rock hard.

"Please what?" You said, lifting your chin and removing your hands from his body. "Use your big boy words."

“I want... Oh god”

"Elvis," you said in a singsong voice, starting to fiddle with his belt buckle. Then you dropped to his ear, "what do you need, baby?"

"I need to be inside of you," he said in one quick breath, like it pained him to say it.

You obliged, removing his belt buckle and pushing his pants down enough until his cock sprung up. It was throbbing and pink, dripping with precum. You fisted him, getting in position to guide him into you as you said, "All you had to do was ask, handsome."

It was a bit of stretch to get him inside of you, it always was. You rolled your hips until you were full to the hilt, then paused to look at Elvis. Oh you wished you had a camera.

He never looked as handsome as he did when he was having sex. His head was thrown back but you could still see his brows furrowed together and his mouth shaped in an O as breathy moans came from him. The long lines of his neck were defined by his position, his tanned chest taking deep, deep breaths as you rolled your hips. The muscles in his arms flexed, using all his mental energy to keep them there. He was being a good boy, he knew to not move his arms despite wanting to desperately touch you.

You leaned forward, hands on his shoulders to help his arms down as you started to really pick a movement. At this angle, your clit ground against his pubic bone making you moan in delight.

You rode him, slowly at first. Your hips rocked back and forth with gentle movements until it hit that moment of passion. You started to really ride him, knees aching slightly from holding you as you bounced.

Elvis glanced down and saw your breasts, audibly moaning at the sight of them bouncing combined with the feeling of being inside of you. You sped up, sweat starting to cover your body.

You were close, God you knew you were close but you wanted Elvis to come first. Snaking a hand behind you, you gingerly Elvis's balls in your hand. His moan turned into a scream as he poured inside of you and you followed him after, your body turning into complete jelly. You got off of him, legs weak as you slumped to the couch.

Elvis was taking deep breaths, eyes shut tightly as he came down from his high. He brought his hands to his lap and you quickly untied them, rubbing at his wrists for him. You kissed each of them in gratitude.

Elvis had a lazy little grin on his face as he watched you. Then he pulled you into a searing kiss. The two of you cleaned up and went to bed, Elvis falling asleep with you in his arms.

#austin #austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #austin elvis imagine #austin theory #austin!elvis #butler #elvis 2022 #elvis biopic #elvis history #elvis movie #elvis presley #elvis the pelvis #elvis x reader #fyp2022 #fypシ #elvis #fypfypfypfypfypfypdypfypfypfypfypfypfyfpfyfpfyp #presley #subelvis #subaustinbutler #subelvispresley

[crash-and-cure]

Burnin’ a Hole Where I Lay (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader) (Omegaverse)

Gif by @troubleinapinksuit

Summary: In which you long ago decided that the standard Alpha and Omega Relationship wasn’t for you, but your best friend Elvis had other plans.

A/N: This is a backup post I made because I absolutely refuse to let this be a case of this one not ending up in the tags again. Based on this request. Semi-Relevant, as i’ve been writing, in my head I’ve been ranking each reader as to how likely they are to bite, and undoubtedly this is my most feral creation, too bad she exists in a world where it may as well be a whole ass love language. So as a quick note as to the dynamics of this Omegaverse, relationshipss are primarily judged on their ability to Breed so A/O are the preferred/seen as the standard, wtih B/O and B/B being seen as acceptable, as a result an A/B relationship is seen as unacceptable. Also Alpha Presentation is marked when they gain their unusually elongated canines, and later go into a rut, Omegas go into their first heat, and Betas essentially present by not presenting whatsoever. Knotting is a bit of a secret in this world, as it only occurs under pretty rare circumstances. Probably some other rules I’m spacing on right now, so feel free to ask if any questions arise. Also I fully acknowledge that there is no way they would be watching The Twilight Zone, but for the purposes of this story let’s pretend.

Warnings: First and foremost this is a Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of delusional and manipulative behavior. VERY dubious consent, (in which reader is a slave to their own desires of consciously not wanting, but their body uncosciously does want it). Set in an Omegaverse so expect the usual. Implied birth control tampering. Bit of a breeding kink implied. Sexual harassment masked as being especially touchy. Smut depicted, that includes penetrative sex (m/f), knotting, cockwarming, cumplay, marking, and a bit of blood play. Also depictions of Parental abandonment and neglect towards reader. Reader is not in a good place y’all and as a result has humor as an unhealthy coping mechanisms and self-depreciative attitude. Instances of reader being yelled at both by Elvis and another character. Best friends to lovers (albeit reluctantly) Please do not interact if you are under 18 years old.

Word Count: 21k (I need to be stopped)

My Masterlist

Denim jeans were a mistake, you think to yourself trying your best not to fan yourself in a very indecent place as you and your group walked back to the rest of the motorcade sitting idle on some backwoods route somewhere in the Florida panhandle. It was a nice cool 102 degrees this morning when the lot of you had taken off so by noon it was hotter than hades, which had been the perfect time for Hank Snow’s car to all but combust, forcing the entire convoy to a screeching halt. The Louisiana Hayride apparently operated the same as the Military: No man left behind.

You and your naturally-run-hot-thighs were having a wonderful time, walking down this stretch of road, along with the other non-talent people who were roped into making a snack and refreshments run at the nearest service station about a half-mile back. You dab yourself, praying you haven’t sweat the last of your face off, as that is the last thing you need right now. The last leg of the hayride tour was proving to be the most arduous as now home felt so close yet still so far off. And this hiccup further proved your theory that hell is to be found on tour.

Though upon seeing them not too far away from you now, your group does admittedly make this far more bearable. You’re not about to let them know that though. So before your thoughts get too chummy about them you set the brown bag from the service station down onto the grass and grab a hold of one of the bottles before you silently stalk forward. Some of them see you and are all too willing to comply when you hold a finger up to your lips in order to better sneak up on your mark. Your prey none the wiser to your dastardly scheme, gleefully tells the tale of seeing Big Boy Crudup as a boy, before it’s interrupted by a yelp and then a subsequent long string of curses as he’s taken by surprise by the cool kiss of the bottle to the back of his neck.

He whips around ready to unleash his fury on the poor soul who dared interrupt him, until you watch in real time as the fire in his eyes dissipate and turn softer upon seeing you giggling up a storm. “Goddamn Y/N, what was that for?” Elvis says exasperated, but doing a piss poor job of hiding his amusement as he wipes the now cool sweat off the back of his neck.

“Felt like it,” you shrug, handing him the bottle before you turn around to retrieve your bag where you had left it, and return bearing gifts.

“Say lil’ lady, you got anythin’ in that bag for some talented musicians?” Scotty asks.

Quick as a whip, you reply, “Sure do. Ya know any?” as you set the bag down on the hood of the car.

Elvis gives a full belly laugh at you, and a beat later, do the others follow suit.

“Did they only have orange soda?” Red remarks as he’s digging through the brown bag.

“No, but one of you mooks, and you know who you are,” you say, pointing to the lot of them. “Have not eaten a single goddamn fruit or vegetable since Texas, and this was the only way I figured I could get y’all to not die from scurvy.”

“Don’t be stupid Y/N,” Billy asserted, nervously trying to hide that he was the one you were talking about. “You only get that when you're out on the sea.”

“I thought you get it when you eat too much salt,” Scotty questions, unsure as to your words.

“No you get it from bad fish,” Red asserts, all the confidence of a man who has never been out to sea.

“You’re all wrong,” you say as you look through your bag trying to find a bottle opener. “You get it when you don’t listen to the Pharmacist’s daughter and eat a goddamn orange every once in a while. Now drink.”

You can see it clear as day as, simultaneously, all of their hackles raise at the thought of being ordered around by a Beta, so they do what they usually do when you do this: they look to Elvis.

Elvis, who has been able to open his own drink with his keys, stops drinking for a moment only to state, “You heard her.” And without a second thought they all sigh in defeat as they each grab a bottle for themselves.

“That’s what I thought,” you state, triumphantly, as you fail to locate anything close to a bottle opener. “You mind,” you say to Elvis, holding your bottle up to him. He gives a little smirk as he brings the still capped bottle up to his mouth.

As he uses his teeth as a makeshift bottle opener, you catch a glimpse at his pronounced canines, and you can’t help but absentmindedly swipe your tongue on that errant tooth in your own mouth. The one that tricked you into believing that you would present as an Alpha only to disappoint nearly everyone in your life.

You’d like to believe you’re past your admittedly childish envy of his status as an Alpha, still that does little to quell that funny feeling you get in the pit of your belly when you see him pop the cap off the bottle with ease.

“I meant use the keys dummy,” you say exasperatedly, swiping the orange drink out of his grasp. “You’re gonna crack a tooth like that one a these days.”

“Aww you do care,” he half-sings to you, and you can only roll your eyes and tell him to shush. He nonetheless listens and uses the keys for his second bottle.

While you languidly sip on the orange drink, that word circles your brain for a bit. Caring is not something you’re exactly used to being called. Years ago you were called protective or watchful, when the entire world was sure as to how you would present. Nowadays in spite of the fact that you doubt you’ve changed too much over the years, you’re called nurturing or motherly.

It’s actually part of the reason you even went on tour with them. You had initially refused Elvis’ invitation to join him on tour, figuring that now was as good as any to move out of the Lauderdale courts. He begged you to go with him and be his makeup assistant on tour as you had been for every show he’d performed up until then. You were reluctant to go due to not wanting to leave the good thing you had going with your job at the Cathouse salon but then Gladys had convinced you to go in order to prevent the boys from getting too buckwild on the road. After all her years of hospitality and refusing your rent payment, you figured this was the least you could do to compensate for your extended stay in her home.

The irony of which was not lost on you as there were many nights after the two of you had your nightly phone calls with her where you would have to kick Elvis out of your motel room to go “talk” to some little chicky that would be skulking around his room (More like you slapped him on the ass and told him ‘go get em tiger’... because you absolutely did do that a few times). You did this mostly to get him out of your hair for the night, but also because in those days you had no idea how long any of this would last and you wanted him to make the most of it. You knew better than most that all things are temporary, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the ride.

Your musings are interrupted by The Colonel’s speaker car announcing the issue had been fixed and everybody better be ready to leave in less than a minute because “Time is money.” Your group quickly packs up, making a beeline back into your respective vehicles.

You quickly check your makeup in the mirror (wouldn’t do for THE Elvis Presley’s makeup girl to look anything less than immaculate, even in this abominable heat, though he’s not exactly a THE yet) as Elvis gets behind the wheel making sure Scotty and Billy got into their car, while Red scurries into the backseat (he lost all privileges to shotgun after a legendary loss to you at a bowling alley back in Baton Rouge). And just like that you’re off to hightail it to the next venue, though not before you catch a particularly nasty side-eye from Hank as he passes your car. With all his huffing and puffing every time Elvis performed, you figured it would only be inevitable the Alpha would eventually burst and blow the lot of you all the way back to Memphis. Especially as his Beta boy kept glancing your way.

So imagine your surprise when by the end of the night Hank ended up leaving and Elvis had news that that Colonel fellow wanted to go into a partnership with him. You’re gone for all of five minutes to get funnel cake and suddenly Elvis is officially on the up and up, with a new manager and everything.

Elvis trusted everybody and you trusted nobody: it made you two the perfect team. It was your natural suspicion of others that had you look over The Colonel’s initial contract and when some of the wording wasn’t sitting right with you, you called in a favor with your former boss, Kitty, who was in turn owed a favor by a Lawyer friend of hers. Even with the favor in place, he ended up taking a good chunk of your savings, which in your book was fine, as it was mostly made up of the rent that the Presley’s refused to accept from you for the past few years. Your intervention would actually prevent Elvis from going 50/50 with The Colonel, and unknowingly save him from so many headaches later down the line.

The Beta Man didn’t quite make your skin crawl, but just about, and he made it no secret how little he cared for you or how much Elvis valued your opinion. Were it not for Elvis’ insistence that you’re the only make-up artist in the world that could achieve the right look for him, you think The Colonel would have elbowed you out early into his career.  

And much to his chagrin you go everywhere with him; shows, movie sets, tv appearances, you name it. Those weeks when you had back to back shows with him and just as many public appearances to keep the momentum of his career going, those were the days where you found yourself longing for the far simpler days.

You honest to god miss 8th grade year. When the world made about as much sense as it could to a twelve year old. The days when you were called the Boldest Little Girl this side of Memphis you were called after you brazenly told your music teacher to shut up when she told the stuttering new kid that he had no future in music in front of the entire class.

After a long lecture on respect and Mrs. Whatsherface made sure your knuckles had a meeting with her ruler, you left her classroom only to be met with that same kid you defended turned around and talking to himself in an empty hallway. He still somehow managed to stutter even when no one was there.

"Th-th-thank y-you," he would say before taking a long steadying breath, before squaring his narrow shoulders and looking as though he were preparing for war.

"Who ya talkin' to?" you would say over his shoulder, and instead of words he would let out a very undignified shriek. "Sorry 'bout that. I'm Y/N."

"El-Elvis," he would say, looking down at his shoes. He’s all sandy hair and knobby knees, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a boy with such long eyelashes before. He was just a bit shorter than you, and with the growth spurt you had recently your mama was hopeful that you would present soon.

"So Elvis… you new to Memphis?" you would say, after a painfully long pause, waiting for him to say something else.

"Ye-ye-yes," he said, still trying to find the secrets to the universe in his shoes. You can’t exactly pinpoint why but in that moment, he reminded you of a wet puppy. One that's just pathetic enough that you want to pick it up and take it home to dry it off and give it a snack.

So that's exactly what you do and you throw an arm around his shoulder, “C’mon, Elvis,” you say as the sandy-haired boy blushes up a storm. “I’m gonna show you around these parts.”

You end up taking him to some of your favorite places around your neck of the woods, and finish this little impromptu trip with a stop off at the neighborhood drugstore, where you ask him what his favorite soda is, and he nearly has a heart attack when you grab one from the cooler and walk out without even attempting to pay for it. Annoyed but willing to humor the boy, you walk up to the counter and tell your daddy you were taking them for you and your friend. You could see the bit of pride in his eyes as you took rather than asking for what you wanted. Elvis meanwhile seemed to be in awe of you. Though he quickly goes beet red when you show him how to open a bottle with your teeth and hand it to him.

“Y’know you don’t stutter when you sing,” you say as the two of you were making your way to his place in the lauderdale courts. “Why’s that?”

“I-I-I don’t know,” he said solemnly, sipping on the Pepsi you gave him. “I gu-guess, it’s cuz I-I-I’m good at it… or I th-thought I wa-was.” he says sadly.

“You do sound good,” you say matter-of-factly, and it makes you feel warm as he lights up at the compliment. “Not everyone’s gonna think so, but you do.”

“But some of ‘em are gonna hate it?” he blanches at the thought.

“Yeah, but that’s just  the way a things ain’t it?”

“I-I guess…”

“Elvis trust me on this,” you state, more sure of yourself than any twelve year old has a right to be. “If people don’t like how you sound, it’s on them to not listen, because there are plenty more people who will love it.” Simple piece of advice really, and not applicable to all situations you recognize now, but with the way you watched him hunching in on himself to look smaller only for him to walk straighter into his home, it looked like it’s what he needed to hear.

Elvis would return to music class the next day with his own guitar in hand and sing his little heart out in front of the entire class. Mrs. Whatsherface still didn’t approve, stating how she “didn’t like how he sounded.” But he in turn looked her right in the eye and told her what you had told him, and you had never been more proud of another person in your entire life.

“Well Mrs. Wilson, you don’t gotta listen.” he asserts, more confidence in him than you’ve seen in all the time you’ve known him.

Your friendship however was really solidified after that jerk that sat behind you in class, Leon, cut Elvis guitar strings as a “joke” he claimed. Seeing Elvis' heartbroken expression and knowing his family’s financial status, awoke some latent protective streak within you that had you dip into your meager savings for a record player to buy two things that night: guitar strings and gum.

The next day you would give Elvis the replacement strings before school would start as well as an ominous suggestion to watch you during study hall. And he would watch as you proceeded to stick a wad of gum in your own hair and proceed to flip over the table behind you and try to knock Leon’s lights out. Nobody ever really made that connection that it had anything to do with what he did to Elvis’ guitar. No, all anybody ever knew was just that Leon sat behind you and someone had put gum in your hair, and you swung first and asked questions later.

Elvis would watch in utter awe of you as the teacher escorted you and Leon out of the class by your ears, and you would wink at him as you passed by, but you think the sentiment of it was lost considering the eye you used was the one already swelling shut. Unbeknownst to you at the time, Elvis would return home that night and let his Mama know he found the girl he was gonna marry.

You saved Elvis the embarrassment of having to be defended by a girl, and the focus was solely on how Leon had gotten beaten up by one. You would even cleverly and cruelly dub him “The Cowardly Leon,” for the rest of the year, and only let it die out after you needed to start flying under the radar once you had presented.

You cared a lot about justice back then because that’s what your father instilled in you. In fact the first thing he said to you when he came to pick you up, was asking whether or not you won. God he was so proud of you for standing up for yourself, and he ended up taking you out for ice cream. In retrospect not the best thing to teach a kid, to handle conflict with physical violence. Back then it was seen as blooming Alpha behavior of play-acting at being territorial and rough-housing. But once you presented as a “Beta” that same behavior that was seen as charming, became deviant or atypical of how a proper beta should act.

That year was the last one of simplicity you would ever experience, as you were comfortable in what your future would look like. Your daddy's side of the family came from a long, unbroken line of Alphas, both male and female. And it only felt inevitable that you would present as one, and one day you would inherit your family drug store, you would settle down with a nice omega partner, have a couple kids, who would also be Alphas, pass it on to them, so on and so forth.  With his ever present, yet endearing stutter and his unabashed love for his mama, you had thought Elvis would be such a partner. And the way you sometimes caught him looking at you at times, you didn't think he would be entirely opposed to it either.

You were an only child and your daddy did his best to teach you long before you were even close to presenting how an Alpha acts. Lessons to always be bold and aggressive. To take what you want and how to fight for what is yours. The benefits of remaining stoic, and relying only on yourself. How to essentially be the perfect Alpha.

Lessons that would ultimately be wasted on you, you would learn that summer after 8th grade. It was just supposed to be a nice ordinary trip to visit Nana up in Nashville. First day, you would be slightly uncomfortable and very tired, nothing cool refreshments and a nap couldn’t help. Day two you felt a lot warmer that wasn’t the least bit helped by Nana’s brand new Air Conditioner. Day three you would spend covering the windows with blankets in order to better curl up into a corner on your bed with pieces of clothing you had taken from your parents. Day four there was no more denying what was happening as you cried into mama’s lap, feeling oddly betrayed by your own body as you waited for all of it to pass.

Your daddy put you on suppressants the second you were all finished and were back in Memphis. He was the only one whose disappointment in your presentation matched your own. Mama tried her best to convince you it wasn’t so bad to be an Omega, but the words feel hollow as you overhear her insistence to daddy that she wasn’t too old to try and get it “right” this time with another baby.

Nothing felt real those summer days, and by the time newly presented Alpha, Elvis Presley, strolled into the store, you officially accepted that you were in some sort of upside down world. You didn’t even really see him at first, you were so used to seeing him at less than eye-level to you, that it didn’t register to you to look up, and find the previously waifish Elvis Presely having been replaced by a taller, broader -and dare you say it, handsome- young man before you.

Of all the people you knew, you thought Elvis would be the one that you would be able to tell, but as the light softly glints off his newly descended canines you knew that could never be.

There’s a part of you that wants to tell him. To admit to someone, who will undoubtedly accept you as you are, but you catch sight of your parents staying on opposite sides of the store. A painful reminder that nothing is ever a sure thing.  

“My what big teeth you have,” you instead remark as you lean against the counter.

“Heya sweetheart,” he says, propping an elbow on to the counter, though not without some awkwardness as he catches your magazine and slides forward a little before catching himself.

“Sweetheart? What is that about?” You ask, acting dumb and hoping you’re wrong.

He grins even wider at that

“Oh yeah,” you say, trying to be as non-chalant as you possibly could be. You hook your pinky into the corner of your mouth to show him the normal canine you have. He perks up ever so slightly as he sees it, only to deflate once he hears your muffled “Beta.”

“O-oh… oh, ummm…” he stutters, unsure of what to say to you.

“Disappointed? So’s my daddy,” you say flippantly.

“N-no it ain’t that,” he stutters. “It’s just I-I… well I…”

“Was expecting something else?” you finish for him. “You and me both buddy,”

“...Y-yeah umm….” he says glancing down between you and the floor as though waiting for the sike.

“C’mon, don’t be upset for my sake, you’re an Alpha now, cream of the crop and all that,” you say, hoping you don’t sound too jealous. You hand him a Pepsi on the house and call for the next customer knowing you’re gonna have to be on inventory later so you’re daddy won’t notice it missing.

In short order by the start of your freshman year you would learn three awful things. First, that while the state of Tennessee’s single bond and marriage laws were still in place, they do make an exception for Alpha business owners who wish to pass down their legacy to an Alpha Child. Secondly, that your daddy was aware of this exception because he had done it once before, as you and your mama were his second attempt at an alpha child, after his first born son presented as an omega. Third, the reason you had a babysitter until you were fourteen, was because your daddy apparently needed a backup for his backup.

That is how you found yourself moving all of your belongings into the Lauderdale Courts, where you would find a familiar face. He was surprised to see you there, especially with the load of boxes behind you, but he wasn’t about to let your surly demeanor get in the way of him rolling out the welcome wagon for you and your Mama.

Elvis is not one to be ignored, and you find it amusing that he was now the one that more or less bullied you into doing things. And as loath as you are to admit it he more or less did become somewhat of a protector to you when Leon tried to get his licks back. It is a strange reversal, but not a wholly unwelcome one. You do at least try to find the comedy that is the tragedy of your life now.

Your mama was with you, but you could hardly say she was present anymore. The days she wasn’t drinking herself into a stupor, were the days she was cursing your father’s name and long-winded rants about how he stole the best years of her life. For all the passion and fury in her words, they were hollow, as instead of getting on suppressants to combat her heats, she instead went back to him every single time to take care of her. There would be times you would come home from school only to find your place empty, cash in an envelope on the table, nary a note in sight, and you would spend the week with a neighbor.

You try to justify it in your head with the fact that Mated Omegas could die if they go into heat without their Alpha, but that was exactly what suppressants were made for. They weren’t true mates so there should be no problem for her alone to break the bond, and yet like clockwork every three months she would be gone for the entire week, and wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes for about the next two weeks following that.

You hated those days when you would come back to the apartment only to find her missing, that ominous pink dot on the calendar, and some money left in an envelope for you to take care of yourself for the week. Gladys Presley didn’t even hesitate in offering you a place to stay so you wouldn’t be alone, but as welcoming and kind as the Presley’s were to you during those weeks you felt humiliated not only for having to rely on their hospitality, but also the reason why.

You knew where exactly she went. Everyone in the Lauderdale Courts- hell, everyone in Memphis- knew where she went, as those were the same weeks that your father and his new wife would disappear off the face of the Earth. All those pitiful looks and derisive snorts when you walked by felt the same, they said “oh look, there’s the little unwanted girl.” Your mother went from wife to glorified mistress in a matter of months, and people shaped their own opinions on you solely around that.

You got by though, especially after you were able to get a part time job in Sophmore year. Kitty LeBlanc is perhaps the most feared Alphas this side of Memphis. She and her wife, Jeanie, have been running the Cathouse Beauty Salon, for the last twenty or so years, the place to go when you’re looking to get done up for a date night or a divorce. It’s well known in these parts that any Omegas having trouble with their Alphas need only come to Kitty to get them to start doing right by them. So suffice to say, she was furious at what your daddy did to you, and the only thing stopping her from launching a full scale whisper campaign against your daddy’s store, is that you and your mama were still financially dependent on him and so didn’t want to leave him completely destitute.

But you also had the underlying reason that you needed him to stay open so you could still get the suppressants you needed. They were created way back when during war times, to prevent mated omegas from dying due to their Alphas being gone so long, and nowadays they are only prescribed to mated Omegas under the most extreme of circumstances. Legally you’re not supposed to be on them whatsoever, but while normally your father being a pharmacist had few perks, this was absolutely one of them.

It’s bad enough he’s known for having more or less abandoned an Omega Partner, but it would have absolutely devastated him, socially and legally, if it had gotten out that he had abandoned not one but two Omega children of his. So rather than having that be his reputation he made everyone believe that you in fact were a Beta. And you’re fine with this, because you already push it by acting like an Alpha when you’re known as a Beta, you doubt you’ll be tolerated anymore if it comes out that you’re an Omega.

Kitty would respect your choice and instead offered you a job, mostly sweeping the floors and taking out the trash after school, for a little extra cash on the side. That’s where your interest in makeup first began, seeing how someone could be having the worst day of their lives, but their appearance exhibiting none of that.

“Think of it like a mask,” Kitty would explain to you as you attempted eyeliner for the first time. “You’re only showing the world what you want them to see.”

High school was a bit of a blur, and before you know it you’re in your Senior year. Prom was something you had been looking forward to. You had saved up all your money from the Cathouse to buy a beautiful red dress, had been asked out by a nice Beta boy from your art class, and Kitty promised you the full salon treatment for such a special occasion. Really everything was looking up with the only hitch being how weird Elvis had gotten when you told him about your plans for the evening.

After the talent show (where you almost resorted to pushing him onto the stage), Elvis certainly wasn’t without options, but he still insisted on going Stag with you and the rest of your friends for Prom. Those plans didn’t change with your news but he clearly seemed to have become grumpier as of late.

But you didn’t pay it any mind, as afterall the shit you’d been through up until that point, was one night really too much to ask for. Evidently it was, because as you were getting into David’s car, you realized you had forgotten the evening gloves your mama was letting you borrow, and you ran back into the building only to be met with your mother with a suitcase in hand as she set down an envelope on the small dining table.

You vividly remember how she would look up at you with only the slightest hint of guilt in her eyes, before her expression steels itself with a calm demeanor, as she gives you a cool smile, places the envelope in your hand with a friendly pat, and then she walked out the door without even a glance back.

You would never see her again.

To My Darling Daughter,

I’m sorry for what I have to do, but you must understand that while this is a choice, it’s not an easy one.

If you can take comfort in anything, know that it is your strength and resiliency and seeing you as bold as you are for what you are has inspired me to take control of my own life. I’ve met a Beta man who has promised me a better life away from this place. My only regret is that I can’t bring you with me.

But I know for a fact that you, unlike me, can and will survive on your own.

I Love You So Much,

Mama

You had to read her letter several times, not fully believing the words before you. You recognize that there was a part of you that had wanted this for years. For her to run far and fast from your father, but you had just always assumed she would’ve taken you as well.

You hardly have time to process that as you hear David’s horn honking out at the front. No, instead of sitting with your feelings about the matter, you fix your makeup, grab the gloves, and walk out to the powder blue chevy. After David offers whatever was in the flask he swiped from his daddy, the entire dance turns into a haze, with the only evidence that you were even there being the commemorative photo and the blisters you feel forming on your feet.

“Say Y/N, my folks are outta town this weekend.” David says idly as you’re walking out of the school gymnasium.

“That’s nice,” you slur, not really having heard a word he said, trying hard not to fall on your face as you stumble in your kitten heels.

“So why don’t we head back to my place?” He asks practically buzzing with anticipation.

“Sure fine,” you sigh apathetically, understanding what he’s implying, and going mostly because the prospect of going back to an empty apartment is far more terrifying to you.

You can see the excitement on the Beta boy's face grow until he looks past you and you watch as the blood-drains from his face. “There you are Y/N,” you hear from a strained yet distinct voice behind you. You turn around only to see Elvis’ icy blue eyes somehow burning holes into your date, as he says through gritted teeth. “Your mama made me promise to get you home early.”

You can hardly be faulted for your almost knee-jerk reaction at Elvis’ blatant- well to you-lie: you burst into a near hysterical fit of laughter, to the point tears are streaming down your face. You laugh a little too hard and a little too long at a joke neither boy seems to understand, that David, by the time you’re mostly done, is long gone. It doesn’t matter though, because in your drunken state your thoughts turn to how embarrassed Elvis is going to be when he takes you home and realizes he got caught in a lie, because you don’t have a Mama anymore.

As you’re stumbling to Elvis’ car, he stops you in your tracks, “Y/N, you alright there?” he breathes and you see his nose flares for a moment, no doubt smelling whatever the hell was in that flask. “What did he do?” He hisses, with murder in his eyes.

“Oh dontcha worry about ole’ Davey over there,” you dismiss, as you grip onto one of his forearms to keep yourself standing (when did they get so big?). “How ‘boutchu take me back home because… I. Gotta. Surprise. For. You.” You say, punctuating your last few words, tapping his nose each time. You can see his eyes widen and his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows nervously, before he quietly agrees.

He gets you back into his daddy’s car seemingly content to have gotten you away from your date, until you’re on the road, and in a fit of… grief… madness… something, you open the window and let one of the evening gloves your mother had let you borrow fly out into the night.

“Ain’t those your mama’s?” He asks, slightly perturbed at your seeming indifference, when you’re usually so careful with your clothes.

“Mmm-hmm,” you hum as you let its twin also fly out. The rest of the ride back to the Lauderdale Courts was filled with a thick silence, as you were upset, and Elvis could tell you were upset, yet neither one of you knew how to address it, so you both remained quiet.

Elvis gets you into the building and in repayment for his act of chivalry, you didn’t vomit all over his rented suit. No, instead you bolt into your apartment, that you had left unlocked for your mama without another word. After brushing the taste of bile and fruit punch out of your mouth, you would find him sitting on your couch with that damn letter in his hands.

It is at that moment where you enter and you see the heartbreak and pity in his eyes for you, did you finally recognize that this wasn’t as funny as you thought it would be. No, in fact it leaves you with a hollow feeling inside of you, seeing him that way, but instead of dealing with that you choose to laugh at the situation.

You laugh because otherwise you’ll cry.

“Tell me Presley,” you joke with him. “You make it a habit of reading through other people’s mail?”

“Y/N, I-I’m so sorry, I had no idea,” he would say, tears welling in his eyes for you.

“Well we got that in common,” you say, wishing to be numb to the whole world by this point.

“I-I just don’t understand wh-why she would do somethin’ like this,” he states, genuinely unbelieving that a mother could do something like this. You’re confused for a different reason, as you can’t quite find the logic in leaving you behind when she was so close to being able to do so legally after you had graduated.

Guess she just wanted out that bad.

“Oh I know why,” you stated as you threw off your shoes and tossed your legs over his lap. “I’m unlovable,” you say flippantly, while shrugging your shoulders. You weren’t seeking his pity nor his comfort. In your mind you were simply stating a fact. The same way you would state that the sky is blue or that water is wet, Y/N is unlovable. How could you not be, as both people that were all but hard-wired to do so, want nothing to do with you?

You see so many emotions pass through his face at your statement. Until he throws his arms around you and brings you as close as possible to him. “You’re not unlovable,” he declares.

“No I am,” you say, resolved to your fate. “I just need to accept that.”

“You’re not unlovable, Y/N,” he blubbers a bit, tears in his eyes, holding your face in his hands. “Because I lo-”

You quickly slap your hand over his mouth, shushing him, truly not wanting to hear the next words to come out. You’re not an idiot, you remember the way he would look at you before either of you presented, it’s the same way he looks at you now, when he thinks you’re not paying attention. But you know, as did he you suspect, that if either one of you were to ever verbally acknowledge it, everything would be ruined.

It’s not like you haven’t thought about it before. Nothing would be wrong considering you are actually an Omega, and anybody would tell you being close friends with an Alpha would eventually lead to this. But one thing throws a wrench into this idea: the fact that the thought of being bonded to an Alpha, even Elvis, terrifies you to your core.

You’ve seen how wrong those relationships could go, what happens to the omega and how the Alpha could get out scott free. You know yourself well enough to recognize that you are far too willful and bold to make for a good wife for an Alpha when most would prefer a more demure, submissive mate. Add in how apparently easy you are to leave behind, you doubt your odds of having the ideal life for an Omega look too good.

In your quieter moments you would wonder who you were supposed to be. If you hadn’t been raised with the expectation that you were going to be an Alpha would you have actually exhibited the traits that go with being an Omega. Or would you have still ended up the same way? Neither scenario fills you with comfort.

You try not to dwell on these thoughts too long, as afterall, as far as Elvis knows, being with you like that is impossible. Besides you and Elvis have a good thing going on right now and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

You’ll later blame the alcohol for what had happened next, as you sat next to him, doing your best to stop crying, in spite of your feelings of being unwanted and unloved. But you’re somewhat comforted by Elvis being so close to you, and you liken your next actions as some latent part of your omega brain trying to compensate for your crippling loneliness that night by trying to start something with the nearest Alpha, who just so happened to be your best friend.

Your face buried in his neck, you could feel yourself steady the longer you breathed in his heady scent of leather and rose water, disparate yet no less intoxicating, all tied to something uniquely him. Something you had never really noticed before, given that the suppressants did a good job of dampening your smell capabilities, but being so close to him now, you begin to understand why the other omegas would get giddy moments before he walked into a room.

You remember just every breath filling you with a sense of comfort and warmth, and simply wanting to be as close to its source as possible. His scent reminded you of burrowing yourself in warm blankets on a cold morning or taking the first sip of hot cocoa on a frigid night, that feeling of being so comfortable in your discomfort that you don’t even recognize what it was until you felt the slightest bit of relief from it.

Wanting to further immerse yourself in that scent, you find yourself quickly going from leaning on him, to full-on straddling him, all so that you could better nuzzle your face into his neck. Though from the rumbling in his chest he didn’t seem to mind your invasion of his space too much. In fact he had followed suit by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose into your neck.

Though his discontented snarls tell you he’s apparently having a hard time. As a “Beta” you hardly even register as an option for him, the suppressants apparently making your scent so subtle, you’re about as appealing as a houseplant to him. You on the other hand were practically getting drunk on what little scent was making its way through to you.

So drunk were you in fact that you didn’t realize what you were doing with your hips until he let out a strained groan that reverberated back onto your neck. You don’t exactly know where your head was at, you just remember that he smelled so good and felt even better against your burning core, which is why you felt little shame as you continued to grind into him, the salacious act being hidden from your view by your skirt.

Your eyes meet his and you’re not exactly sure who leans in first, just that somebody did. But almost like magic, that tentative and nervous brushing of your lips against his, broke you from your spell, and made you realize what exactly you were doing.

You tear yourself away from him, nearly cracking your head on the low table as you land on your rear in front of the couch. Horrifyingly you’re now put at eye-level with his legs where you see something tenting the front of his pants. You take advantage of his utterly bell-rung state as you would pathetically crawl away from him and into your own tiny bedroom, to get away from this confusing and frankly terrifying situation.

There’s no lock to speak of so you block the door with your own body, crying into your hands, praying that he sees himself out, though like usual your wishes go unheard.

“Y/N?” You hear from the last person you want to deal with, knock at your door. His voice quivering as though he’s close to tears.

You sob harder.

“Y/N, I’m beggin’ ya here. Please talk to me,” he says, sounding genuinely distraught.

“Go away, Elvis!” You beg through your blubbering. This back and forth continues for a while until your stubborn nature prevails, and you’re left alone.

And all is right in the world.

You would wake up with a god-awful crick in your neck, and feeling unpleasantly feverish beyond belief. You quickly take your suppressants as you have done religiously since you had started on them, and you would spend the day barricaded in your room waiting for your fever to cool down.

Come Monday, Elvis wouldn’t be in school, and in spite of the fact he was the last person you wanted to see, you were given the task of passing along his school work to him. You were no stranger within the Presley household, oftentimes spending the weeks your mother was in heat with them, as Gladys couldn’t stand the thought of you all alone in that apartment. So it was surprising to say the least when she was the one to bar you from entering the door.

“Sweetheart,” she sighs, looking tiredly between you and the apartment behind her. “Elvis is umm… a bit… sick, and he won’t be fit for seein’ for… a few more days.” The blush on her face and the embarrassment in her voice tell you exactly what exactly is happening to him. You quickly dismiss yourself back to your empty apartment.

Well that at least explained why he let you do… that. He was a young Alpha going into his first Rut, he probably would have done the same with a box of cracker jacks if it promised him a good time. It meant nothing, so you were going to treat it like that.

It made more sense than the alternative of your “mini-heat” sending him into a rut. Afterall everybody knows that only true mates are capable of doing that. Most mated couples take a few cycles in order to sync up properly, while in contrast true mates can almost immediately trigger the other's time just by being in the same vicinity while going through theirs. You’ve also heard rumors of something else happening with those couples, but you’ve never bothered to dive too deep into that, and all you know is that it had something to do with how they almost always get pregnant during their first cycle.

True Mates are just rare enough to be special, but happen frequently enough that everybody at least knows one pair. It felt like every single Omega you met dreamed of finding their true mate regardless of how unlikely it is to happen. It also had all the hallmarks of being devastatingly romantic, with the idea that these are the only bonds that are truly unbreakable and that both parties could potentially die without the other, rather than just the Omega.

In theory it should sate your worries about being left by an Alpha, but it does little to help, as the idea scares the shit out of you. The idea that regardless of your own wishes to never be mated to an alpha, some force has apparently fated you to be with someone. Add to the fact that they have yet to make suppressants sufficiently strong enough to quell an omega with a true mate because apparently the bond is that strong, and all you see is a disaster waiting to happen.

You spend the next week trying to figure out the logistics of living on your own. You know Graduation is roughly a month away and without your mother to renew the lease or your father not willing to pay past his legal obligation, you’re going to be homeless. You can chance it with the foster system you suppose if you declare yourself an unaccompanied Omega, but more than likely they’ll send you back with your father, and he’ll more than likely hock you off to the first Alpha that gives you a second glance.

By the end of the week you’ve accepted that your best option for the time being is hoping that Kitty is kind enough to allow you to stay in the storage closet while you get your full salon training. If you sell everything in the apartment and by the time you're making full salary you may just be able to afford a room in a girl’s boarding house. That is until Gladys Presley, after three days of you dancing around the question of “Where’s your Mama, sweetheart?” finally sat you down and refused to hear any more excuses, and you had to quietly admit how you didn’t know.

Gladys is surely a force to be reckoned with as within an hour of your solemn confession she has you at her table with a warm meal, her couch already set up, and the landlord agreeing to forward you the last two months of payment your father is supposed to pay for rent. But what she can’t fix is the fact that you are suspiciously not making eye contact with Elvis.

You had insisted on making yourself useful and helped Gladys clean up afterwards, but once she and Vernon called it a night, you knew there was no getting around it anymore. At around midnight do you hear Elvis shuffle into the living room, clearly hesitant to have this conversation as well.

“You up?”

“No.”

That gets a short huff out of him before he plants himself on the opposite side of the couch as you, essentially sitting on your feet. The room is too dark to really see him, but the slight shaking in his leg and constant shifting tell you he’s just as uncomfortable as you are.

“Elvis about Prom ni-”

“Are you really a Beta?” he cuts you off.

In spite of the darkness within the room, you still try to school your expression to one of confusion rather than shock. “What kind of question is that?” you say, managing to sound tiredly exasperated with him, while your heart is going a mile a minute. “Of course I’m a Beta, why’d ya think I wasn’t?”

“It’s just…” he pauses. “That night-”

“The night nothing happened.”

“Y/N,” he says severely, a tone he has never in his life used with you. “I need an honest answer here.”

You think about your next words carefully. As far as you know Alpha’s can’t literally sniff out lies, nor do you have any reason to believe he can hear some sort of minute difference between a lie and a truth.

For a brief moment you contemplate being totally honest with him, but you quickly dismiss that notion when you shift slightly and feel the hard edge of the couch armrest. Your situation is far too precarious to risk it on a gamble that he may want you, when if anything this past month has proven how unwanted you are.

“Elvis… you’re my best friend,” you state, as this much is true. “Do you really think I would lie to you about something like this?” you say, too cowardly to lie through your teeth and say no, instead you put it on him as to whether he believes you would do such a thing to your best friend.

He sighs in defeat, believing you wouldn’t invoke your relationship on a lie this big. “No… No, you’re right,” though you can hear the slightest quiver in his voice. “It-it’s just bad luck, that all that happened in the same night.”

“Exactly,” you say relieved that he came to the same conclusion that you did about that night. “E, I-I didn’t get a chance to say this yet but… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking me in,” you sigh, not a fan of the coy act.

“It was nothin’ Darlin’,” he says though you can hear him relax a bit at that. “Mama wasn’t ‘bouta let that stand.”

“Well then thanks for nothing Presley,” you say with a grin.

He laughs at that, and says “C’mere you,” as he brings you in close for a hug. You do notice as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, and pointedly takes an extra long whiff of your neck. He’s undoubtedly trying one last ditch effort to prove his theory right only to find nothing.

“But I hope you can accept that I’m your mama’s favorite now,” you say as seriously as you could to break the tension, in an effort to ignore what he just did.

He pauses at that before pushing your face back into the pillow and saying around a smile, “alright, go back to sleep, you.”

Those months following your graduation, there was something so simple about those days, almost idyllic, in an odd way. You would be the first up in the household, so it was on you to push Elvis out of bed, take care of breakfast and lunch for the both of you. He would drive you to work in his company truck listening to the early morning radio and you would muse that it would only be a matter of time before the two of you would be hearing him. He would always get red in the ears at that and drop you off at the salon. He would occasionally drop in for lunch and afterwards the two of you would hit up Beale street for a while before heading home. Have dinner with his folks, go to bed, repeat all of that the next day.

You would often practice your makeup skills on him when Gladys was unavailable, giving you a better understanding as to how to not only put makeup on someone else, but how to also highlight a person’s best features. And working so close on him, did you realize that Elvis had many. In return for your “experimentation,” you would go to every single performance of his as support which evolved into doing makeup for him. Oftentimes you’re the last person he talks to before he gets on stage, as you would often help him clean himself up when he got too in his head about the whole thing, but also the first one to greet him once he got off the stage.

Though as the years went on and performing became more routine, and you find yourself in the midst of show business alongside him. Traveling the country and working on movie sets are never things you ever expected to happen, even in the days when you had your life set out before you.

Those days seem so far away now, as though they were a dream of a different life. But now you were in a new era, the “New Elvis” era, which would be one of the worst you ever had the displeasure of witnessing. It was like watching a Peacock be plucked and be told to still be just as eye-catching, and you let the Colonel know as much. You thought it was bad enough having to see him dressed in tails, but you knew the disaster that was headed your way the moment you saw that damn dog being rolled on stage with him.

When they moved into Graceland, the Presley’s took you along with them, and even tried to offer you a room on the top floor, the one specifically designated for family. It was one of the few times you and the Colonel were on the same page about… anything really, as you were vehemently against the initial room he offered you and instead took a moderately sized room on the first floor.  You did this as you know that keeping some distance between you and them will make it hurt a lot less when they inevitably drop you.

Elvis Presley being in your bed is not an unusual experience, something you had gotten used to way back when your bed was the Presley’s couch, and he made it a habit of letting himself in as he pleased in your room at Graceland. So you hardly blink when you wake up to him laying next to you in the middle of the night. Or rather you do several times in order to get all the sleep out of your eyes and try to get a grip of your bearings as you suddenly awaken to a bed full of rockstar.

You had watched him storm out earlier, all passion and fury at the world that wants different and contradictory things from him all at once. Now all that fire has seemingly been extinguished as he lies next to you hands on his stomach, voice quiet and unsure of himself as he asks “You awake Y/N?” imperceptible through the non-existent lighting in the room.

“No.”

He huffs at you, and you can almost hear the smile on his lips, before the room turns solemn once more. And you give a big tear-welling yawn, but you’re still willing to help him through his identity crisis.

“Sweetheart, be honest with me,” he says into the inky darkness. “This ‘New Elvis” thing… ya’ think it’s a mistake?”

“Yes” you answer without missing a beat. You were never one to mince words for him and you’re not about to start now. “Now answer me this: is your name Frank?”

“No,” he answers confused.

“Is your name Bill?”

“No.”

“Is your name Buddy?”

“Y/N, what the hell are ya gettin’ at?”

“What I’m getting at is if they wanted a old crooner in a boring suit, they woulda gotten Frank Sinatra. They wanted clean sanitized rock n’ roll, they woulda gotten Bill Haley. If they had wanted someone popular but not so controversial, they woulda gotten Buddy Holly.” You say, impassioned as you are sleepy, hoping you’re making even a lick of sense to him. “They didn’t get any of them. But you know who they asked to be there?”

“Me?”

“Who?”

He chuckles before saying, “Elvis Presley.”

“That’s right,” you say, poking his chest. “They want you E, controversy and all, because you know what, ain’t nobody better at getting asses in seats and panties on the floor.”

“Y/N!” he exclaims, scandalized and, you can just imagine, red in the face.  

“It’s true though,” you continue. “Being controversial these days hardly makes a difference anymore.”

“How’d ya figure that?”

“Elvis…” you say solemnly. “To my face people shake their heads and click their tongues as to what my daddy did to me and my mama. That doesn’t stop them from patronizing his store and giving him their money to better support his new family.” You feel him give a comforting rub on your shoulder. “Look what I’m trying to say is that, when what you give is good enough, people will overlook just about everything else. And trust me what you sell… sells.” You pause when you feel something hard beside your feet. “Are you wearing your shoes in my bed?”

“...maybe?”

“Get outta here weirdo,” you huff annoyed at his antics, and use all of your might to push him out.

“Alright, alright,” he says, acquiescing and getting out of your bed. “Guess I’ll head to that diner you love all by myself.” You can almost hear the smirk when his statement gets the pause he was looking for.

“You’re a cruel, cruel man Elvis Presley,” you declare. “Give me 20 minutes.”

The next day at Russwood Park, you’re putting the final touches on him before he gets on stage. You can still see the tiniest bit of conflict still on his face so you tickle his nose with your makeup brush to get his attention. “Remember. They don’t like how it sounds…” you trail off.

“They don’t gotta listen.” he finishes, apparently remembering your bit of 12 year old wisdom. Once he got on stage, he would take your advice, but the next time he would crawl back into your bed would be the night he got his draft notice.

None of you were exactly surprised, as everybody had known to expect it sooner rather than later, especially given that Elvis had slowly and steadily become one of the most controversial singers in the country. However the days immediately following it were some of the bleakest you’ve ever experienced.

With The Colonel’s whole rebranding spiel, and how much trouble he got in after Russwood Park, the fresh start idea isn’t terrible at this point, but you wish you could have gotten out easier. As cold as it sounds to say, you now saw the writing on the wall. You’re fully aware of the fact that, of his crew, his make-up girl is on the lowest of priorities. Regardless of how fond he is of you, he is undoubtedly about to be put under a microscope and whether he realizes it or not, he’s about to embark on a new chapter of his life, a chapter that more than likely doesn’t include you.

You want to do your best to put on a brave face for him, the last thing you want to do is add to his stress. And besides it isn’t like you ever truly believed that this was in any way permanent. As life had taught you that nothing is permanent, so why would living with the Presley’s be any different?

It’s just a hard fact of your life that people inevitably get tired of you, and you get left behind for something better. As fun as it’s been with Elvis and his family, never once did you trick yourself into believing that this is how it would be forever. Maybe in those simpler days of practicing makeup on him in the bathroom and lunches in the bed of his company pick up truck… maybe. But as Elvis’ star burned brighter, you were snapped back to reality at how temporary and tenuous your situation was. The same way Elvis outgrew Lauderdale courts, he would outgrow you.

What would he even need his make-up girl for while he’s deployed? The Colonel made it clear he’s not to perform while he’s enlisted, and you doubt wearing makeup will do him any favors in the barracks. And besides, Omegas are unable to even get a passport in Tennessee without explicit permission from their designated Alpha, who in your case, would still be your father.

The father whom you interact with very little these days, the last time being almost a year ago and that was simply to stock up on a year's worth of suppressants. Your father whose business is not seeing as many customers these days because as far as Kitty knows, you don’t need anything from him any more.

Bright side of this is that at the very least you’re not without options this time around. Kitty had made it loud and clear that you’ll always have a place at the Cathouse, and hell you have enough savings to see you through the next few years in Memphis if you simply wanted to wait out his time in the army. But neither seemed appealing to you, as either way your future would still rely on others' good will.

When Elvis had started making movies, of course he dragged you along for the ride up there. You were still the only one he trusted to do his makeup and as a result the studio ended up giving you a crash course as to how to do movie makeup, which you learned was a completely different beast to stage makeup, as you now had to toe the fine line of subtlety. Regardless of all that you did end up making a pretty important discovery, in regard to potential future prospects for yourself. You learned that in the movie making business, Betas are like gold in Hollywood especially for the more practical and technical parts of movie making. This is all due in part to the fact of their overall lack of appeal to Alpha actors, as well as not being as distracting for Omega ones either, not to mention they are far more reliable as they don’t have to worry about pesky heats or ruts.

You also learned that up in Hollywood, you could get access to suppressants about as easily as you could get your hands on a packet of M&M’s, as unlike in Tennessee you didn’t need to be mated in order to gain access to them. As a result, you discovered there were more than a few behind the scenes hands who were also Omegas that masqueraded as Betas in order to get work on the sets, doing wonders to make you feel less out of place there.

Janet, the head of the make-up department Paramount, was initially reluctant to have you aboard but was nonetheless impressed with your ability to pick up the craft as quickly as you did. You had kept her phone number from way back when and decided that now would be a good time to take her up on that job offer. She was ecstatic to bring you onboard but the hiring process being what it is you still technically need to be recommended by former employers.

“You sure I can’t sway you to come back here,” Kitty says as she’s signing the bottom of the letter. The sentimental part of yourself that you had believed you had smothered long ago is screaming yes in your head, not wanting to leave everything you ever knew in Memphis, but the pragmatic part of you knew that your days here are numbered.

You want to be able to bury yourself in her chest and tell her how she’s been like a parent to you all these years. To thank her for all the years she’s cared for you in whatever way she could, taught you your trade that has proven invaluable, steered you in the right direction. But all of that feels too final for your liking, and instead you remark “Unless you got a rich Beta man in the back, then no dice,” all the while giving a casual shrug.  

“Well at least you ain’t followin’ that good for nothin’ boy across the world,” she sighs in relief. Kitty was not a fan of Elvis, she made no secret about it, less so when you turned in your resignation to be his makeup assistant for the Louisiana Hayride. Your best guess as to the animosity is how eerily similar they are when you really pay attention. The same way Kitty could give a single look to any fellow Alpha she had ever met, and make them act right, Elvis could do the same, except make them act however he liked. They’re the type of people that just magnetically attract those around them.

But you also think that it is also on the principle that she dislikes any and all partners her children bring around… Which is ridiculous because everybody knows it’s impossible.

You decide not to waste the trip into town and start heading toward your least favorite place in Memphis. You only make this trip once a year anymore, and you’re hoping to make this as quick and painless as possible. But as the little shop below your old home comes into view, do you recognize what a tall order that is.

“What in the hell is this?” your father seethes as you approach the counter, throwing down a newspaper before you. You see yourself wide-eyed looking into a camera with Elvis leading you by the hand into the car after Russwood Park. The draft notice had left the paper's tongues wagging and apparently of all the photos of him that have been printed, it was just your luck that this one was apparently the one most worthy of being reprinted.

Rather than react with the same guilt or shame that any normal Omega would have when confronted by their father as to why they were seen with perhaps the most controversial Alpha in America, you idly pick up and open a candy bar that was sitting at the front.

“A newspaper,” you say with a mouthful of Baby Ruth. “Can I have what I came here for now?” He throws the pages at you, but if you learned anything from him, it is that flinching earns you nothing but letting the other person know you’re scared of them.  

“Don’t be cute with me girl,” he spits that last part as though you were a stranger and not his daughter. “Why the hell do I find out like this you’re living with that boy?”

“You didn’t care a single goddamn bit where I was livin’ before, why’s it matter now?”

“It matters because what you’ve been doin’ makes me look like a bad father lettin’ my own daughter run around with that… that…” he says snapping his fingers, searching for the right word.

“Degenerate?” you finish for him, as it is the most common insult you’ve lobbed Elvis’ way.

“Don’t interrupt me,” he seethes, a rumble emanating from his chest, but after being surrounded by the likes of Elvis and Kitty, this does absolutely nothing for you, and you wonder how anybody has ever been intimidated by this man.

“Well good news, the only reason you look like a bad father, is because you are a bad father,” you tell him with a smile on your face. “No one thinks of you enough to bother telling lies about you.”

“Outta the kindness of my heart, I been footin’ the bill for these,” he holds up the bag for emphasis. “Only to find out you've been holdin’ out on me.”

“Mmm-hmm, of course that’s what this is about,” a smirk on your face, figuring ou what has got him so worked up. “Why you so worried about money? Saving up for your next attempt at an Alpha kid that’s not gonna happen?”

“Don’t think I don’t know about you and that vicious bitch of a woman, you been costin’ me more money than what these pills are worth for years,” he spits.

“Pills you put me on,” you accuse. The argument ceases almost immediately when you hear the tell-tale ring of the bell at the front of the shop.

“You gonna pay me what I’m owed, or no?”

You want to refuse on principle alone, but you’re so close to being free from all of it, so you don't want to risk it so soon. But you know the kind of trouble something like that could dredge up for you specifically. So it’s with a heavy heart that you agree to pay for them once you get paid for the next movie.

But if your father is good at one thing, it’s believing in his own myth of being the big tough, and in charge Alpha. That you as an Omega will have no choice but to obey his will, even as he hands over the very tool that negates his influence over you.

You have no intention of ever paying him a single goddamn cent of any of it. You’re only on them because of him, and if he wants to scream and holler about how you owe him money, but he won’t be able to do a damn thing, lest he out himself as well.

Besides, you'll be long gone by the time he wises up to the fact that you won’t be paying.

Now there’s only one more letter you need, and it’s not as easy as you would have hoped for. After getting your medicine, you take a few days to really pluck up the courage to do so. He’s been a lot testier these last few days, as was to be expected considering the circumstances.

If all goes well you’ll be able to work on this final movie together with him, before you part ways, and leave with the crew back to California. If not… well you’ll probably just start making your trip far earlier than expected.

You find him in the upstairs office, looking through mail, a stony expression on his face, but it lightens considerably when he sees you with the food Gladys has sent you up with. Well, more like you insisted on taking it up as you’ve been hoping to catch him in a good mood, as there are few things on this Earth that put him in a better one than his mama’s cooking.

“Sorry to bother you E,”

“Ain’t no bother,” he insists, moving some papers out of view to make way for the dish. “I’m tryin’ to get a head count for how big a house I need on base in Texas.”

“How many you at now?”

“Including you? 7,” he says casually, taking a bite out of his food.

“Why would you include me?” You say genuinely confused.

He pauses at that, positively shocked by your response, until a grins splits his face and he gives a short huff of a laugh. “You almost had me there, Y/N,” he chuckles at your apparent antics, settling back into his affable disposition.

You swallow nervously at that, “That’s actually kinda what I came to talk to you about. I-I got offered a job from Paramount out west to work for them, but they’re saying I nee-”

“Jokes over,” he declares, his smile dropping a little, bypassing what you were trying to say. “You got me, alright?”

“... Not alright, Elvis,” you state trying to get your point across. “I’m trying to tell you I’m getting another jo-”

“Y/N,” he says, cutting off your plea, the look in his eyes familiar, but you’ve never had the misfortune of it being directed at you. “Quit the jokin’ now,” he says, his tone severe which you do not care for one bit, but you have to tread lightly if you want to get his sign off.  

“I’m serious Elvis… this… this probably isn’t the best time,” you sigh, for once in your life trying to be careful with your words. “Th-the studio needs letters from former bosses to know that I can do the job, an-and I was hoping you could write one for me.”

The tension hangs thick between the two of you once you are finally able to make your point. You swallow nervously but you don’t sway and inch as he stands from his desk.

“If this is a ploy to get a raise,” he said coldly. “You win Y/N, I’ll pay ye’ whatcha want?”

“No Elvis…” you sigh, trying to keep a cap on your frustration. “You’re not listening. I’ve got a new job lined up in Hollywood, I just need you to write a letter for them telling you I can..” you trail off seeing the expression of fury in his face.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me right now Y/N!?!?”

“I think we’ve established that I’m not joking right now,” you say bitingly, your hatred of being yelled at overriding all other things.

“So what… you’re gonna leave me high and dry when I need ya’ the most!?” He says, something akin to heartbreak painting his features.

“Why do you gotta say it like that? Like I’m breaking up with you?” you argue, not liking how he’s making this a bigger deal than it is. “It ain’t like you’re gonna need a make-up girl while you’re doing drills.”

“But I’m gonna need you!” He asserts, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Oh don’t be like that,” you tell him, literally shrugging him off. “It’s not like I’m gonna be able to live on base with you.

“Then we don’t gotta live on base.” he waves away, as though it were that simple.

“Elvis… I don’t wanna go with you,” you say simply leaving it at that leaving no room for him to argue the logistics of it. It hurts but you know you gotta get out now while the getting is good, because if you wait any longer, he’ll be the one that leaves first and that will be all the worse. For the first time in your life, you want to be the one that walks away on your own terms. “E, I-I gotta go where the work is,” you try to justify.

“So that’s it ain’t it,” he says, his pursed lips turning into a frown. “this was all just a job to you and you’re leaving cuz there ain’t one no more?” he shakes his head at you, disappointment evident on his face.

That… that cuts deep. That he can reduce not only his role in your life like that without guilt, as though you’ve been playing the longest con in history, when you first decided to defend a scrawny 12 year old from his nay-saying music teacher.

“Yes Elvis, if that’s what you want to hear,” you say without a hint of hesitation, willing your tears not to fall now of all times. “This has all just one big job for me, has been since the very beginning. Now there ain’t no job to have and I gotta fucking move on with my life because I don’t fucking need you anymore!” It doesn’t feel great as it leaves your mouth, and the angry tears streaming down your face prove it.

Nor does it get any better when you watch him stagger a bit at that, as though he had just been shot, even taking a hold of the corner of his desk for full effect. A million emotions pass through his face in seconds until he eventually lands on pure unadulterated fury. “Get out! I don’t wanna fuckin’ look at you right now!” he shouts dismissing you, his hands shaking as though itching to wring your neck.

“You got it Boss,” you say bitingly while giving a sarcastic curtsey, to which you turn around and walk out of the room, paying no mind to the destructive sounds coming from behind you. In spite of the biting cold outside your rage is keeping you warm as you pace back and forth along the back patio, trying to figure out your next move.

You’ve had your fights with Elvis before, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen so upset past the point of not wanting to talk with you. Even the biggest blow out between the two of you was exactly that, when he had walked in on you with that Beta who served cotton candy.  

“Well now you know what I’d do for cotton candy,” you tried to joke after they had left, but Elvis proceeded to scream in your face, asking how dare you do something like this to him. You’d seen his territorial side before, as you’re not stupid enough to actually believe there isn’t anything behind all the times he’d casually pick you up and take you away when you happened to be talking to some Beta. But you did not care for being screamed at whatsoever, so you packed your things and proceeded to walk to the nearest bus station. You proved yourself to be far more stubborn than him, as you walked down the road, ignoring his demands that you get into the car as it crawled at a near snail’s pace to keep up with you, and talk you out of going back to Memphis.

As the cars lined up and started honking, you refused him still, even his threats to throw you into the trunk if need be, you didn’t falter. It wouldn’t be any sweat for him to do so, what with that crazy alpha strength of his, but you both knew that would hardly be the end of it if he resorted to that. Finally as the bus terminal got within view did he finally crack and promised to never yell at you like that again.

“You drive me up the goddamn wall, Y/N,” he says, rubbing his eyes.

“You love it,” you declared, glad to finally be able to rest your feet, having picked the worst shoes to walk in.

“Yeah… I do,” he sighs and looks over at you from the driver's side. There is a bit of an awkward pause as you find your faces much closer than you remembered and he glances down at your lips.

“God, I’m starving. I don’t know about you,” you quickly say, turning your torso fully around to look out your window, trying to break the tension. “But I could go for a bite and I think I saw a diner up ahead.”

You hear him clear his throat, as he hoarsely replies with a simple “Yeah.” By the time the two of you returned to the motel, you’re the best of friends once more, and neither of you ever mentioned that awkward bit again.

You had hoped after all this time he would’ve let go of that weird possessiveness he has over you. With all the girls that he could have, why do you matter to him so much? You know you’re good with makeup, but you know so are many other girls. And he is capable of opening up to them as he does with you if only he ever got his head out of his ass.

Christmas Eve, Gladys spends the day cooking up a storm, roping in you and Dodger, determined to make this the best Christmas yet. Elvis is still not talking to you but you do find him when you’re looking for your purse, and you watch briefly as he stares deeply into the fireplace, something he’s been doing a lot since your fight.

But he’s got another thing coming if he thinks that you have anything to apologize for. You’ll be leaving with or without his permission… which you absolutely do not need either way. And if he chooses to end your friendship like this, then so be it.

Hell if need be you’ll go over his head and ask the Colonel for a letter. You have no doubt that if it means getting you away from Elvis, the Colonel will write nothing short of a glowing review and personally hand deliver it to Paramount.

Christmas day comes and everyone and their mother is over to celebrate. Everybody is living it up and trying their best to not acknowledge the big ole’ elephant in the room. Elvis seemed to be in higher spirits though as he proceeded to act like nothing was amiss, trying to make this a good Christmas for all. It’s almost as though the weather itself knew his plans for a perfect Christmas with the fresh blanket of snow that covered the outside.

Everyone tries to follow suit with keeping up the festive denial, though it doesn’t take long of the both of you obviously avoiding each other for seemingly everyone to notice something is wrong. Some point blank ask what happened between the two of you.

Some of the guys, weirdly enough, ask if you’re feeling sick, which is an odd experience considering that their eyes tend to slide right over you most days. You find yourself compulsively checking yourself in any available surface over and over again, trying to figure out what had them questioning your state. Nothing is out of place, your makeup is flawless and your outfit is perfectly coordinated and festive.

You look beautiful and nothing is wrong. You’re hoping if you repeat that enough times you’ll start to believe that.

You eventually call it a night after a few hours though not before presents are exchanged and you get the pleasure of seeing Elvis' eyes go a bit glassy once he puts on the new coat you got for him only to find the pockets filled with Gum and Guitar strings, because as upset as you are with him you’re not about to break tradition.

By the time you make it back to your room you all but pass out fully dressed on top of your sheets, and you feel the slightest twinge of guilt when you wake up wrapped in Elvis' old Crown Electric Jacket. You don’t really get a chance to dwell on that too much though as after taking your suppressant, do you notice the noise- or better yet the lack thereof.  

Graceland is many things but it is definitely never quiet, you learned that early on into moving in. There was always something happening, someone visiting, and something new to do, with the occasional errant chicken running around the house, so it takes not even an hour that first day for you to notice the silence.

It’s almost like a ghost town on the floor below, with the only soul to be found, being the head of this household idling away at the piano. You’re about to head back to your room, wanting absolutely none of this until you hear a “Y/N?” from the piano room. You silently curse his uncanny knack for sniffing you out when others couldn’t, while simultaneously breathing an internal sigh of relief that he no longer sounds angry at you.

“Yeah it’s me E,” you state as you walk into the room, resolved to whatever fate you had signed yourself up for.

He turns around to see you see his face flushed and his eyes puffy, no doubt he’s been having trouble sleeping again.

“Y/N… we’re close right,” he asks genuinely, and you know that that boss comment hurt him deeply.

“We’ve both seen each other without makeup, absolutely nothing is closer than that.” you answer.

That gets a chuckle out of him at least, and it’s almost a relief to hear it after going without it for so long. “How many years we been knowin’ each other?” he asks solemnly, as you sit next to him on the piano bench.

It’s as you're saying 8 do you actually realize how long it’s been. “Time is one sneaky sonuvabitch,” you say, your eyes still wide at the revelation.

He laughs a bit at your reaction, “It sure is,” he says. The next look you can’t quite read as he says, “That's 8 years of believing in my dream longer than even I did at some points.” His eyes wide and his face soft.

You’re very uncomfortable at the amount of vulnerability being shown right now and you quickly course correct by lightly moving his chin with your fist and saying, “Hey now don't chu go gettin’ soft on me Presley,” you say, laughing to mask your nervousness.

He takes your hand in his as he says “What I’m tryin’ ta say Y/N, is th-that it’s been 8 years of you supportin’ me in whatever way I needed.” He gives a sad smile at this, before he continues, “I figure it’s ‘bout time I pay that back. I’ll write whatcha need darlin’.”

You’re stunned at this, truly having believed you would be the first to crack. But here he is, subverting expectations as usual. You’re not the most physically affectionate person, you’ll admit, but you can’t help the overwhelming urge to hug him. Not the obligatory side hugs you give on occasion, nor the awkwardly stiff stance when someone hugs you. This is a full on arms-behind his neck bury your face in his neck kind of hug, as you squeal you thank yous over and over to him.

You remember yourself, you pull away slightly once you feel his hands on your lower back tenderly holding you to him, and with your hands on his chest you look at him directly in the face. His eyes gazing up at you, a soft smile on his plush lips, his breathing steady and strong, as opposed to yours which hitches in your throat.

You clear your throat, “Say where is everybody?” you ask casually releasing yourself from his grip and turning your attention toward the window, which showcased the freshly fallen untouched snow of December.

He approaches you from behind and idly places a warm hand on your shoulder, before saying“I let everyone know I need some alone time and I didn’t really wanna see anyone, till we hear back ‘bout the deferment.”

“Shit sorry,” you say, quickly trying to get up. “I’lll get outta your hair,” you say, only for his grip on your shoulder to slip down to your waist.

“You’re not just anyone to me Y/N,” he drawls, his face far closer than necessary.

"Okay weirdo," you say, turning away hoping your face isn’t radiating how warm you’re feeling. You focus your attention on the snow covered lawn before you declare, "But if this ends up like the Donner's, I'm eating you first."

That gives him pause and you see as he purses his lips, clearly trying to hide a smile before he leans in real close to your ear. You don’t fully understand why your heart seemingly skips a beat as he says in a husky drawl, "Not if I don't eat you first."

There was the briefest of moments when you feel your face heat up at his tone until you roll your eyes at him and move him and his stupid little lip bite away from you. You turn around and try to leave the room, content that your little orphan angry ass isn’t going to be thrown out into the snow just yet. But before you can do so, you feel him grab a hold of your wrist, “ain’tcha cold like that darlin’?”

You look down only to be reminded that you had not in fact dressed for the weather today and your short-sleeve blouse and light skirt reflect that. Though oddly you don’t feel the least bit cold, and you feel mildly perturbed as to how in fact you are feeling very comfortable like this. Though of course you hide your concern by saying “You forget, I’m cold-blooded Presley.”  

“Of course you lil’ lizard you,” he says with a smile on his face, as he’s taking off his own jacket. “But mama would have my hide if she found out I let you walk around like that and get sick,” and he drapes the warm material around your shoulders, and then chucks you under your chin to look at him. In spite of your supposedly “cold-blood” you feel uncharacteristically warm as he looks at you.

You quickly make your way back to your room, to open up that secret compartment of your purse to find your suppressants. You take them religiously and know exactly how many you should have left by this point, and you’re relieved to find the correct amount left. You quickly think back to everything that you’ve eaten in the last few days, and nothing sticks out to you that would have affected them and you don’t drink whatsoever so it couldn’t be any of that.

Finally you’re left with no choice but to chalk it up as nothing but you being paranoid. You decide to read on the couch, and somehow between the warmth of his jacket and the soft notes he’s playing, you find yourself in a hypnotic trance and you give into the heavy feeling of your eyelids.

You’re later startled awake when you feel something hit you squarely in the face, confused until the snow begins to melt on you and you feel the cool burn of the cold water on your chest. Elvis is laughing his ass off seeing you like this and nimbly dodges when you throw one of your house slippers at him.

“There were easier ways of wakin’ me up,” you remark through your exasperation.

“Ain’t one of ‘em as funny though,” he says slyly, and you roll your eyes, but your sigh tells him you can’t help but agree. “‘Sides that Twilight show’s ‘bouta start, and I knew you woulda done worse if I let you miss it.”

You’re surprised at that, and as you look out to the dreary looking sky you see that it has in fact been more than a few hours since you’ve been asleep. But it hardly feels like any time has passed between now and then as you still feel like you could sleep for another few hours or even days. You quickly disregard these thoughts though as he tells you it’s only a matter of time before your favorite shows starts.

You take a seat next to him just in time to catch the beginning of Twilight Zone, placing the popcorn between the two of you. You have always loved scary stories like this, and Elvis loved scaring you when you got too wrapped up in the stories. Low and behold as you’re anxiously waiting for Inger Stevens to come across the hitchhiker once again, you feel his cool hands grasp at your side making you all but jump out of your skin.

“I hate you,” you say mulishly as he continues to laugh. Though he doesn’t remove his arm from around your waist which takes your full focus off of the screen, as you look down at his hand curled around your side. You move slightly away from him only for his grip to tighten and you’re pulled even further into him until you're all but sitting on his lap. You’re viscerally reminded of Prom and wonder briefly if he even remembers that night anymore, or if it’s become lost in the shuffle amongst all of the other girls he’s had over the years, and an ugly feeling of jealousy shoots through you in that moment.

“Oh there’s the popcorn,” you say, as you use your whole body to stand up and get off of his lap. You grab it and rather than get back on the couch, you sit yourself on the floor, clutching the bowl in front of yourself as though it were a shield, as Perry Mason was just about to start. You’re hesitant to look at him right now, until he reaches down and grabs a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

“Wait I know how this one ends,” Elvis says, with a cheeky grin. “Perry Mason wins.”

He’s just a naturally touchy person, you justify to yourself, don’t read too much into it. “It’s not about if, it’s how goddamnit,” you assert, with a smile on your face. As the show continues you hardly notice when Elvis makes his way to the floor or when he casually throws an arm around your shoulder, though that’s mostly due to the fact that by the half-way mark of the episode, you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Even finding yourself leaning on him more and more, and if you weren’t so tired you would wonder why, considering that you spent most of the day napping.

No, you just find yourself silently grateful for that crazy Alpha strength of his to carry you to bed, your bed feeling more comfortable than you can ever remember it as you settle in.

Waking up to find Elvis in your bed is not unusual. Waking up to him under the sheets with you holding you around your waist is rare but occasionally does happen.  Waking up to find that you’re in his bed as he nuzzles his nose into your neck with a handful of your ass while… something… pokes your belly, absolutely unheard of.

You try to peel his hand off and carefully remove yourself from his grip, only for him to roll over fully on top of you and bury himself between your breasts. You stop breathing entirely for a moment, too worried that any sort of chest-heaving may wake him and make this whole situation all the more uncomfortable. Part of you wishes to go back to sleep and hope that this was simply a bad dream, but as he shifts you feel his thigh place itself firmly by your core, the action so sudden and shocking that you audibly gasp.

You feel him stir at that and your face is burning, embarrassed by this whole ordeal, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling you get as he plants a sleepy kiss on your neck and removes himself from you. You think you’ve reached new heights of humiliation, until you find him between your thighs and feel one of his hands start to travel up your skirt.

This has got to be a dream, you think.

“Ok, you’ve had your fun,” you say, trying not to make your skittishness so apparent. “You can quit it now,” but then his other hand travels further up and you’re almost too distracted to notice its twin hook on to your panties and begin to drag them down. And before you can make any noise of protest, it turns into a surprised squeak as you feel his hot breath waft over your now naked cunt. You’re frozen in place as to what the hell is going on, both fearful and hopeful as to what he’s about to do next.  

Those seconds seem to drag on for hours, there’s nothing stopping you from closing your legs or even covering yourself with your hands, but neither of these occur to you. Instead you lay there paralyzed as he further parts your thighs and using his tongue lightly trace up the seam of your cunt.

That sends you into overdrive and removes any possibility that this is a dream, as he languidly tongues your core. Your hips almost immediately buck up but he keeps you down with a forearm across your lower belly, as he tenderly nurses at your clit.

You grab at his hair but that only seems to further invigorate him, as his groans seem to reverberate off of your walls and he goes from focusing on that bundle of nerves, to delving lower and lower to that seldom explored entrance of your cunt. You restlessly try to push his head away from you, but your thighs apparently have a mind of their own as they box him in when you feel the tip of tongue lightly trace the rim of your fluttering hole.

His tongue, you are learning, has talents well beyond singing as you feel that wicked muscle eagerly delve into what little access you have (reluctantly?) granted him. The pleased hums he’s making, demonstrating how much he’s enjoying the act don’t help either.

Eventually you find your hands running through the hair that you, probably more than anyone in the world, are most intimately familiar with, even seeing the hint of his light roots that you’ve neglected to touch up in the last few days. You’re at the very least glad that the two of you are alone in the house, because you doubt you would have been able to muffle the downright filthy sounds coming out of your mouth.

The noises you’re making seem to only spur him further, as his thumb goes from an unhurried pace to a far more goal-oriented motions as his tongue goes rigid and plunges as deep as it could go and then, almost playfully, wiggles within you.

You’re left seeing stars, your pussy clamping down around his tongue, though he removes it almost immediately in order to prolong your euphoria by sucking on that little button of yours.

Even after all of that, you still held out hope that this was some weird sleepwalking episode and somehow feeling another warm body, he was going off of instincts until he removes himself from your pussy, nonchalantly wiping his mouth with his thumb, and looks you right in the eye with a look that tells you he has an appetite that has only been mildly wetted.

“Guess I ate ya’ first darlin’,” he remarks with a very sweet kiss to your lips, as though he didn’t just make you have the best orgasm of your life. God you’re so familiar with these lips, yet it still takes you by surprise as to how soft they feel against your own. You’re only human so lord forgive if you wish to indulge in the fantasy of perhaps every teenage omega in the country. But quickly you gain your bearings, remembering that as far as he’s concerned, you’re a Beta through, and through.

It kills you a little to remove yourself, breathing raggedly as you try to come to grips with what is happening. His eyes are blown out entirely, and he licks his lips as though you’re a meal waiting to be devoured, but even then you instinctively know he’s seeing you as you are.

This trance you’re both in is broken by the shrill ring of the phone from the upstairs office. He gives a soft curse, before he rolls out of bed and casually walks out of the room. You’re left leaning against the pillows. Looking up at the ceiling, utterly shell-shocked, mindlessly fixing your skirt to cover up your bare pussy as you try to figure out what the hell just happened.

But it’s as you’re doing that does an unbearable fire come upon you. A terrible fever emanating from your lower belly overwhelms you and as you helplessly inch out of his bed every instinct within you is screaming how bad of an idea that actually is. Every step away from that bed is agony, as though you’re wading through lava, away from any safe haven you may have found. Even trying to move your panties back into place feels scalding and you’re left with no choice but to remove them completely, leaving you completely accessible. You shiver at the thought, and not from the cold.

Briefly you wonder if maybe Elvis had something to do with this sickness you’re experiencing, but as you feel a throbbing emptiness from deep within you, do you realize that this is in fact a long ignored part of yourself that is simply roaring back to life. You finally recognize what exactly this is and recognize what sort of trouble you’re in.

You skittishly look out the door and, finding the office door closed with his voice behind it, you make a quick beeline to the staircase, and from there dash to your room, where you quickly barricade yourself in with your vanity table. And in the mirror are you forced to face what you are. Your eyes blown out, your clothes wrinkled and disheveled, the makeup you neglected to take off before bed smudged, sweat running from the warmth emanating from within you, and your whole body trembling under the effort to not flip over the table and run directly back to him. Not to mention the slippery feeling of your thighs as your slick runs freely, unhindered by any. You look at the very image of the idyllic debauched Omega and you finally recognize something is very wrong.

You have never in your life neglected to take your suppressant a day in your life, and quickly counting them, you find no extras, so that’s clearly not the case. It is as you are doing a double count do you realize something off about them. Looking directly at your suppressants underneath the light, they looked off. They were a slightly more yellowish white than they usually are and picking one up to inspect it, your nail catches the edge of it and it crumbles a bit. Neither of these things bode well for you. You desperately look for your extra doses of suppressants only to find them missing.

That’s when it goes from less than ideal to utter nightmare territory. You don’t know how nor do you know why, but your suppressants are no longer effective and you may very well be hurdling full force into heat, alone in a home with an unmated, virile Alpha. You immediately get to packing what you can, trying to figure out your best means of escape.

You try to assess your options as to where you can go for the next few days, but with all your options being either Alphas or out of town, you have no choice but to go back to your father. But your most pressing issue as of right now is how you’re going to get out of this room. Your windows are sealed shut, so you’re left with no choice but to venture out back into the house and pray he’s still upstairs.

You’ve done your best to ignore the steady stream of slick that has been running between your thighs, but the idea that he’s out there somewhere, causes a new rush of it to burst out, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you lose all restraint and give in to what your biology is demanding of you.

You made a beeline for the front door, your mind determined to make it out of Graceland but it was upon actually getting to the front door do you find your hands hesitating for a second. Some latent part of yourself really questions if it would be so bad to be his, questions why you have to fight it when he’s been nothing but good to you.

But it was your moment of hesitation that gave enough time for a familiar ringed hand to slam the door shut on you. “Baby, there you are,” despite the door now shutting out the cold, you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine.

“Elvis I-I-I,” you swallow, his scent so heady and powerful you can almost taste him on the back of your tongue. “I need to leave.”

“I just got the good news,” he states, completely blowing past what you just said. “They granted me the deferment for the movie.”

“Elvis, I’m begging you,” you plead, as a bruising grip on your wrist forces you to let go of your packed bag. You’ve only ever cried once in your life in front of him, but now the tears flow freely down your face.

“Don'tchu worry your pretty little head ‘bout anythin’ darlin’,” he coos, wiping the tears from your cheek. “You go where I go, ain’t nothin’ gonna change ‘bout that.”

Even after all the time that had passed, you can still vaguely taste yourself on him, not an unpleasant taste, but your thoughts quickly turn to wondering how he would taste, or better yet how the both of you would taste together. The kiss becomes heavier and deeper as you wrap your arms around him and boldly run your tongue over those sharp canines of his, some masochistic part of you demanding to press harder.

Your chest is heaving, needing more oxygen than you personally think is necessary, and yet you find yourself giving pathetic little whimpers as he leaves your lips in favor of marking a trail of kisses down your body.

He kneels down before you, burying his face in the crevice between your thighs, the only barrier between you and him, being the thin material of your skirt. It was only then did you notice the brief relief from the fever you felt, all due to his close proximity. “You smell ripe for the pickin’ sweetheart,” he breathes out in a raspy tone, looking up at you as though he were in prayer, as his hand drags the zipper of your skirt down. It slips down fully with only the slightest of tugs, and your left trembling, bare from the waist down in front of him, as your thighs shift uneasily the slick that’s gathered making it all the easier.

You try not to look down at him, as though that will stop what’s happening right now. His tongue is now collecting every trace of your wetness it could find and just barely missing where you feel you need him most, to which you’re not afraid to voice your disapproval of.

“Don’t mind if I take the first bite,” he whispers, the tip of a canine barely scraping the smooth skin of your thigh. It’s that contact that reminds you what exactly is at stake here. Without warning you do your best to push him to the ground. He’s caught off guard but manages to catch himself before he lands on his ass, but the momentary surprise gives you just enough room to slip out.

You are about to sprint all the way back to your room, hoping to lock yourself in, until you feel an iron-like grip on your ankle. You’re barely able to catch yourself with your hands, but you're quickly dragged backwards. You desperately claw at the carpets, trying to find some kind of purchase only for him to grab a hold of both your wrists in one hand.

And that’s that. You’re thoroughly wrangled, no means of escape and no one coming to save you. You recognize how thoroughly fucked you are (or ar going to be) and that really no point in fighting it anymore, but you can’t even trust yourself enough to say that it wasn’t intentional on some level.

Let it never be said you’re not stubborn until the very end.

“Now I didn’t appreciate that one bit,” he hisses at you, and you hear the tell the shifting of fabric as he moves his pants down his hips, still holding your wrists down.

“Please Elvis,” you say desperately, only managing to wiggle your hips slightly which doesn’t help your case whatsoever. His hand is now splayed along your lower belly, as he lifts your hips into a new position to you, your cheek still stuck to the carpet. “You don’t want to do this,” you sob hoping he’s not too far gone, though with the way he groans at the feeling of your warm ass on the underside of his cock, even you understand there’s nothing that’s going to stop this from happening.

“What I want is ta tan your hide, for denyin’ me this sweet little pussy a yours for all these years,” he growls hungrily next to your ear, and those words shouldn’t have you keening and writhing like you were, but they do and you are. “But we’ll save that when it won’t be so pleasant for you. ‘Sides your cunt is achey enough already, ain’t it?” he purrs, the head of him prodding at your core, barely catching the rim of your entrance.

“Yes, oohh yes Elvis,” you whine, pathetically. “Please-”

You can’t say for certain whether or not you were gonna continue to deny him, all you can say is that all thoughts or hesitations seem to melt away as you feel him push himself in. Your eyes threaten to roll back all the way into your head, it felt so good. You're practically dripping wet at this point, but even still the girth is still something to contend with, as you’ve never had to handle equipment this big before, and at the angle you’re at you can’t quite make-out how much more of this you’ll have to take.

Elvis though is about as patient as he could be under the circumstances. He’s like steel wrapped in velvet, silky yet unyielding, as he sinks into you like hot butter, until finally his hips meet your ass. His heavy member has found a home in your cunt, and with the patience of a goddamn saint, he waits until your moans and groans aren't so ambiguous, and has the sound of a woman enjoying herself.

You’re low groan when he moves out, turns into a high-pitched shriek when he slams back into you. You sympathized with him when the papers started calling him The Pelvis but now being here underneath him , you can’t think period, let alone think of a more fitting nickname considering how well he’s wielding his to go at a harsh yet tender pace behind you.

In his rutting frenzy, he’s seemingly forgotten his hold on your wrists, but you in turn have abandoned your initial fervor to get away from him. You find yourself pushing backwards, desperate to keep him inside as best you can, frantically rubbing tight little circles on your clit with a single-mindedly chasing release, while you push off your other hand and try to meet his thrusts.

But he hasn’t quite gotten over that sadistic streak of his as he stops mid thrust and holds your waist preventing you from moving any further. You want to cry, you were so close, but the part of you that wants to be good and obey him wins out over the willful side of you, and you bury your forehead into the carpet. And as still as you can manage, you wait with bated breath for his next move.

“I tried bein’ nice ‘bout it, let you come to me,” he whispers in your ear as he moves the collar of your shirt out of the way, kissing the newly exposed skin. “But you gotta be so goddamn stubborn ‘bout everything,'' He hisses and you feel his warm breath waft on the back of your neck, and you know what’s coming next. You’ve dreaded this happening for years, but it’s so much worse than you ever could have imagined, because it’s coming from the last person you expected. You feel his lips curl into a small smile against your skin, and you feel the light scrape of one of his canines against your skin. “But I ain’t about ta have you any other way.” And without wasting another moment, he sinks his teeth into your neck marking you as his until the end of your days.

The sheer amount of pleasure and pain surging through your body makes you feel everything and nothing at all. All that registers really is the euphoric feeling as to where the two of you are joined together -at long last- so you didn’t miss a single moment as you feel the base of his cock start to swell. You're so startled that you try to pathetically crawl away only for him to take a hold of your still sore hips and bring you flush against him, as he seemingly grows and grows within you, well past what you ever thought could have fit up there.

You briefly black out for a moment not so much reaching your peak, but being rocketed to heights beyond what you could have ever imagined. Longer and more intense than you’ve ever been able to achieve, with a partner or otherwise, you’re a shivering pile of flesh, no longer tied to another worldly want other than the man behind you.

His moans are pure ecstasy, his hands undoubtedly leaving bruises on your hips, and his member resting heavy inside of you. Even though, on some level, you know it’s a fool's errand, you nonetheless try to separate yourself from him only to be given a painful reminder why this thing was often described as being “locked in.” You could feel yourself already stretched past your limit, refusing to let go of him, and you hear him groan from the new sensation, as tears flow down your cheeks from the pain.

What’s worse is that when you finally give up and snap back into place do you both shudder at the sensation as he reaches some part deep inside of you. You black out for a moment from going from intense pain to immense pleasure almost immediately can do that to you only to now find yourself on your side with Elvis behind lazily rocking his hips into yours as he leaves blistering kisses where he can and scorching trails everywhere else he could reach.

You’re left with no choice but to stay put and try not to enjoy every roll of his hips against yours, though you stubbornly bite your own lip to prevent yourself from making any noises, approving or otherwise. But this plan quickly falls apart as your mulish defiance of him and his wants are nothing compared to the swift slap on your pussy that causes you to bite down hard on your own lip. Your stupid protruding canine gets your lip, and upon your instinctual cry and release of your lip do you begin to taste the coppery flavor of your own blood. You attempt to hide your face only for him to grab a hold of your jaw, only to lick up the small trail of blood to your chin. You’re way past being able to be shocked by him anymore, and simply choose to relish in this sinful act, with a man who has been trying to clean up his image for the past few months.

If you had to guess, you’re like that for roughly an hour, until finally he’s at a size where you're finally able to remove yourself from him without discomfort, other than the veritable flood that comes gushing out of you without his cock to keep all of it in. Towards the end, he had shifted you so that you were back on your knees, your head resting on your forearms, with your ass in the air and you could only watch mesmerized as a small stream of his milky white seed runs down your thigh only to stop where your knee meets the floor where it proceeds to disappear into the ivory carpet beneath you.

You hear him purr behind you, apparently just as captivated by the show your pussy is giving him. In one swift motion you find yourself on your back and as he follows the path his cum had trailed down your leg, back to its source. You gasp as you feel him dip his fingers back into you and he hooks some of the seed out of your cunt only to use your now open mouth to stick them in there.

It’s almost like a switch goes off in your head with that first real taste of him. You no longer try to fight with yourself, not even choosing to give in really, because with the way you're feeling right now it’s not even really a choice anymore.

“Anything that ain’t goin’ into your pretty pussy is goin’ in that smart mouth a yours, you understand lil’ mama?” he purrs, satisfied as your tongue splits his fingers trying to get every single drop of him you could. “We don’t wanna let any of this go to waste now do we?”

“No,” you cry desperately, truly ashamed as to what you’re becoming. But you have no time for those thoughts as he surprises you by returning back down to your pussy.

“Keep your mouth open,” he orders between your thighs, words slightly muffled as they are against your lower lips. You're confused as to what he’s doing until he gives a light press on your lower belly and his cum gushes out of your poor abused hole and into his waiting mouth. He takes what comes out before he crawls back up to you to get a hold of your jaw, a dangerous look set in his eyes.

You dutifully do as he says and open up. Once that hot, heady flavor of your combined fluids hits your tongue you’re gone, without ego and fully submitting yourself not only to him but the primitive Omega brain that wants nothing more than to be his. You even wrap your arms around his neck to bring his lips to yours, so that the two of you could fully share this obscene cocktail that you both have managed to create.

“Aww baby,” he breathes, his lips brushing against yours. “We wasted so much goddamn time not doin’ this.” In your state of mind you can’t help but agree.

He takes you on just about every available surface of the house, and you truly believe that the only reason he didn’t venture outward was due to how cold it was. If you had the capacity to think beyond seeking your next release you would feel ashamed as to what everybody will undoubtedly smell when they return. But all you could really focus on at any given moment was how good he felt inside you, or tasted on your tongue.

As frantic as he was to keep as much cum inside of you as possible, he also seemed to gain a specific kind of pleasure seeing you drip with his seed and having you swallow it in penance. You can’t get enough of any part of him and he makes good on his promise as to where his cum would go (where it belongs,) and for a solid week you are sustained almost solely on that save for whatever Elvis can scrounge from the kitchen. There’s almost a soft melancholy when you swallow him, as though he’s truly saddened over the lost potential of that particular load, as though he’s not stuffing you full of it seemingly every hour.

But in your haze you were all too happy to take what he could give you, you cunt greedy for all that he can give you.

And it’s underneath him that you learn about Alpha anatomy. Knotting, as you learn it’s officially called, is something Elvis can only do two to three times a day before he has to rest. Doesn’t stop him from trying every single time, nor does it stop him from having you

It becomes easier and easier each time, until you find yourself after each peak desperately grinding on to him, hoping that his knot would make a reappearance and make you feel whole. By the third day you even find yourself falling asleep with it within you, finding the fullness comforting, as though reassuring you that he won’t disappear on you in such a vulnerable state. The few times he’s left the bed you’re left a helpless, writhing mess desperate for him, even when he’s promised you he would be gone only for a few minutes. Part of you thinks he leaves more often than strictly necessary, considering the smug look he gives seeing you so needy for him and practically begging for his cock as you fruitlessly tried to replicate that sense of fullness only he could give.

“Empty,” you mewl, at this point incapable of full sentences.

He’s decided to torture you a bit rubbing the head of his cock on your clit. The hand splayed on your soft stomach prevents you from moving too much, wanting to take his time with you. Your whimpering begging for what you want desperate

“You ain’t ever gonna feel that way again,” he whispers through his kisses along the mark he left. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, ain’t no way you won’t be carryin’ my baby. Ain’t that whatchu want sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you cry desperately, willing to agree to anything, if he would only give you what you wanted, perhaps marking one of the few times he’s won a battle of wills against you.

You’re more animal than woman that week, a slave to her desires, a creature whose sole purpose is to be fucked and have his babies, if Elvis’ whisperings during this time are to be believed. You worry as to whether or not this more primitive side is due to your lack of experience with being in heat or if this is what to expect from every heat going forward. You feel as though someone else has taken the reins to your body and you’re simply meant to enjoy the ride.

Elvis on the other hand stays aware, and he takes care of you throughout it all, making sure you eat enough and drink water, makes sure your lips don’t dry out, licks at your wounds to help speed up the healing process, etc. You’ve never felt so needy, and you’re barely coherent enough to form complete sentences, and so you show your appreciation by being both as vocal and as obedient as possible.

He usually spends recovery periods licking you clean, though not necessarily where you initially thought he would’ve. You can’t help but conclude his love affair with the taste of your blood considering how much time he spends on the small wounds he’s made all over your body.  In his initial eagerness to explore your body in those first few hours, he had “accidentally” nicked you every so often, the sole exception being the twin crescent marks you can feel on your neck and on your ass, which was clearly nothing less than intentional. Though your state and his efforts have significantly sped up the healing process, you know by the end of this you will be left with a constellation of scars.

“This one” he said lightly running his fingers along the marred skin of your neck. “That one’s for the world baby,” he coos, as he gives it a light kiss, making the slap that lands perfectly on top of the mark on your bottom, all the more surprising. “That one’s just for me and you. So you best not forget who that belongs to.”

“Never,” you sigh happily.

It’s almost funny when you think about it, how the world demands a clean-cut, sexless teen heart-throb, as though a majority of them aren’t also beholden to this primitive state of theirs. Looking at him now above you, his teeth sharp and bared, his grunts and groans echoing throughout the house, the bruises and scratches you’ve been able to leave on his torso, even the stubble you’ve felt more than you’ve seen, all paint a very primal portrait of him. He’s something wild, untameable even, someone who isn’t afraid to show how he is beholden to his own desires and instincts as the rest of the world hid from them, and tried to act like they don’t exist.

If it weren’t for the knot you would be hard-pressed to find much of a difference between this Elvis and the standard one.

By the end of your heat, you’re thoroughly exhausted, you don’t even have the energy to be mad at him anymore. You’ve just resolved yourself to your fate that will forever be tied to the boy you once thought you knew. You don’t even have the luxury of knowing whether these thoughts are your own, and not some long suppressed Omega part of you that simply wants to enjoy the way his calloused guitar hands gently rub the soft part of your lower belly.

But if this week has been about satisfying long-standing desires you’re not about to hold back on your desire for knowledge. Specifically how he discovered your secret.

“I wasn’t ‘bout a let you go without a fight baby,” he whispers, comfortable in not needing to hide anything from you anymore, as you’re thoroughly ensnared. “I was cookin’ up some not so nice plans to keep you by me no matter what. Only for a goddamn Christmas miracle to drop into my lap.” he says, allowing you to make your own pace at which to ride him.

“Your daddy sent me a bill in the mail, and I think you know what he was charging you for, dontcha?” he purrs, lazily thumbing at your clit and watching as your breasts bounced in rhythm with your frantic bucking.

“Bein’ the good mate I am, I let him know that you weren’t gon’ need any of that shit no more,” he says, giving a firm slap on your ass seemingly just because he felt like it. “And I some interestin’ things about them pills. You know what stops them pills from workin’ right?” he asks, lazily rutting into you.

“What?”

“You add a lil’ heat,” he growls, and suddenly his obsession with the fireplace these last few days makes perfect sense.

He spoke to you of how he’s been dreaming of this for years, and how he’s known that you were it for him, even when he thought nothing physical could happen between the two of you.

But even as he spoke, there was an ever present air of inevitability when he spoke to you as to how he envisioned your future together as though this was always meant to happen. And it was only a matter of you catching up to him. Afterall you were the one who taught him to ignore what he didn’t want to hear. And he didn’t want to hear no from you.

Taglist

@venus-haze @djsjs13949 @ilovehobi101 @butlerslut @richardslady121 @giabelia @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051 @myradiaz  @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale @j-v-9-2  @eliseinmemphis @dkayfixates  @immi547 @thatbanditqueen   @marriedtoeddie @cuteejeno @itlover8000 ​ @isthlsfate ​ @mgparker ​ @thatbanditqueen ​ ​ @softsatnin ​ ​​@literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis #iswtg #if this shows up in the tags i'm gonna scream #yandere elvis #it did show up y'all #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #elvis movie #elvis presley #elvis film #elvis smut #yandere austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis fic #austin!elvis #yandere x reader #yandere!elvis x reader #yandere!elvis #yandere #austin butler #austin!elvis angst #austin butler elvis #austin butler x reader #omega!reader #omega reader #alpha!elvis #alpha elvis #omegaverse #austin!elvis x reader #sorry for spamming y'all in the tag list but trust me when i say i didn’t want a repeat #did not write 21k for this not to be in the tags

[darlinboypresley]

lotta true crime

pairing: serialkiller!austin x reader

summary: serial killer Austin kidnaps reader who has a podcast about true crime with her friends cus she saw something she shouldn't

trigger warnings: mentions of murder and well death kidnapping Stockholm syndrome.. mentions of various serial killers talk of blood and knifes psychotic thinking... and smut in the next chapters last but not least my shitty writing

authors note: AAAH HALLOWEEN KICK OF HERE WE GOOOO it's spooky month so here is serial killer Austin on the way to make you all swoon. hehe hehe please i swear i'm sane and honestly if you cant handle this subject please leave it and don't pay anymind to it

special tag: @asshlyyyyy

Part 2 here

It was currently 3 am in down town LA and Austin was out looking for another victim. He couldn’t help it he never understood what was wrong with him and after a while he stopped caring he liked who he was. Even if that meant he hurt people it made him feel some type of way….

 He knew it was bad and that he shouldn’t feel that way but he does and that damn podcast wasn’t helping one singular bit. He didn’t care about her friends he would’ve killed all of them in an instant if they were ever to cross pads but her…. 

It was all about her. He put on the latest episode of your podcast. It usually started with your friends bitching about men like bundy….. or Ramirez…. But you… you seemed to understand him. He sighed as he heard your friend speak up again

 “I mean I hope this doesn’t seem to impolite but Ted Bundy was just never that fucking bright he was just sorta charismatic and white and he was so fucking sure he had the right but he’s ugly and I’m glad he’s dead because there was no fucking candle in his pumpkin he wasn’t special for winning his game with women who never even played they could’ve have killed him.” Her annoying voice ran trough his air pods… 

and then you spoke up “well I mean I’m sure it went deeper than that I’m sure there is a more psychological reason your missing here… he had a pattern and I-“. You were cut off again by your other friend. 

“There’s a new killer in town…” she said as Austin looked up from his phone a bit surprise… could it be “they call him the butler killer or something he prints out anything bad his victims do.. and then he sighs it “butler” that’s all that’s it…* she said and Austin smirked ever so lightly to himself..  they were talking about him he waited for your response kinda nervous as if your opinion really meant something to him.

“Hm… butler killer” you hummed and he smirked to himself. He never met you but he just felt connected as if you knew what he was thinking the whole time and then he heard you speak up again. 

“Hm so he kills people who like kill or hurt others… there’s gotta be some good childhood trauma for that..but he isn’t big enough to talk about in the media … yet interesting “ you said and Austin smiled proudly to himself. He was proud of you, you were his clever girl even tho you don’t know that yet. 

If you were thinking in theorie which he knew you did you’d probably be on your phone googling what ever you could find about him. Your friend her annoying voice ran through his headphones again as he let out a low groan. 

She just needed to run her mouth again as always if she wasn’t careful enough she might get herself killed one of these days…. “So what does this guy do? Does he kill butlers” she laughed that annoying laugh. 

He heard You sigh  softly and speak up again “no amber this article says that the killer leaves business cards at the crime scene with the name butler on it and the sin of his victims on the back of the card, police hasn’t found any other evidence at the crime scene whatsoever” you read to them ever so effortlessly from your phone. 

As Austin smiles proudly to him self of-course his little bunny wouldn’t disappoint.. and of course he wouldn’t be stupid enough to be leaving evidence behind you see. That’s one thing he didn’t have in-common with  other serial killers whatsoever his work didn’t get sloppy. He always made sure to wear gloves and hide his face. 

The sound of your voice died out for a bit as your friends went on and on.. until you spoke up again “he uses a knife.. “

 you said “there have been no signs of gun powder and no one ever heard a bang so my theory is  that he uses a knife to avoid brains flying around… or any organs seeing that’d leave a bigger mess than a knife he likes to prevent the mess from happening he’s a clean killer..  also his name… maybe it’s not about who he kills he kills people who sinned here cheating wife… fraud ect ect  I don’t think he’s a butler tho maybe maybe it had something to do with his name” you said. 

He smirked at him self that was his clever girl he agreed with your theorie about the knife seeing ge never used a gun because of how loud it would get and it’s more traceable Austin liked working clean. He wasn’t like others he had feelings he knew how to feel hurt and sad and angry. 

But what about Happy….. in full honesty he hadn’t been happy in a while… it had been a long long while since he had been happy. 

And the theorie about his name was even more brilliant. You did your research he’d give you that much.  He leaned back in his car seat putting his feed upon the dash board. As he listened to your voice once again.

“It almost seems like… like he’s following the 10 commandments honor your father and mother his first victims were two teens who set up their parents for their money and then his second victim was a neighbor who gave a false testimony against another neighbor…. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor and here… cheating wife found dead while lover was still inside her … thy shall not commit adultery… and the most resent one was a man who stole billions from the company he worked for… thou shalt not steal” you said as your friends spoke again. 

He was kinda dumbstruck honestly it was like you knew all of his moves all his thoughts that’s why you were his bunny you understood him…  if he wouldn’t know better you’d be a killer yourself. 

But he knew nothing more than your name and that you went too the same college.. he spoke in your criminology class a view times your professor mentioned your podcast. That’s how he found his bunny but you wouldn’t remember him for the life of you. And he knew that

At around 4:00 o’clock the podcast ended and that’s when Austin spot his next victim a boy about 19 years old who killed a little girl in a hit and run… thy shall not murder so it was Austin his time to make him pay. Little did he know you were walking home. 

You walked through the alley way he was in just about to finish it he took his mask of. As you approach them your blood ran cold.

Austin looked up quickly and cursed to himself before you could let out a scream he grabbed your waist and pulled you. Around the corner his hand covering your moth and the tip of  his knife. Pointing into your stomach with a bit of pressure 

“Wouldn’t scream if I were you little bunny.” He whispered in your ear. And the last thing you felt was a hit to the head and then everything turned black 

But little did he know that one night would change his whole life… 

this is halloween everybody make a scene

part one out of 5 of lotta true crime let me know what you guys think

love j xxx

#austin butler #x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #elvis movie #austin butler fanfiction #elvis 2022 #austin butler elvis #austinbutler!elvisxreader #elvis presley #austin butler smut #austin!elvis #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis smut #halloween #serial killer austin

[juceynightmare]

pink carnations part 2 - cody rhodes x reader

my masterlist

pink carnations masterlist

pairing(s): cody rhodes x reader, cody rhodes x brandi rhodes, austin theory x reader

warning(s): hanahaki, swearing, smut implied (comment if i should write a separate smut post for this part), mentions of death, vomiting

genre(s): fluff, heavy angst

<< previous part || next part >>

if this is what heaven was, then y/n wished to never be alive again. she was stood at the entrance to the designated women's locker room backstage at ohio valley wrestling, facing a much younger, more youthful cody rhodes with a bouquet of pink carnations in his hand and a nervous smile on his face.

“cody? who are these for?” she heard herself asking. the experience was odd for her. y/n already knew who the flowers for as she’s already experienced this, however, it felt as if she was reliving the memory all over again: word by word, detail by detail.

“i, well, they’re for you actually. i know we’re already planning to go get some tacos tonight but how about we call it a date this time?” cody asked, the nerves in his voice as obvious as the blush that fell across the both of their cheeks.

y/n reached for the bouquet, holding it in one arm as she wrapped her other arm around cody’s neck. “i thought you’d never ask, codes.” she whispered, feeling the warmth on her cheeks become increasingly hotter.

he laughed, and let out what she could only assume to be a sigh of relief as he melted into her embrace. “sorry it took me so long. i will admit, though, it did take some jealousy for me to finally grow a pair to ask you out on a proper date. the assholes in the locker room just wouldn’t shut up about you after finding out that we weren’t even talking in that way… yet.” cody apologized to her, placing a kiss on the side of her head as he has always done.

y/n could feel the warmth of his arms as they wrapped around her. she could smell the hint of cologne under the smell of his sweat as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, unable to contain the wide smile that had graced her lips. she felt him pull away from her embrace, and for a moment disappointment settled in her stomach. however, the disappointment disappeared just as fast as it formed, as she felt his hand tilt her chin up.

she closed her eyes as he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her lips as if to test how far he could go while still being respectful. y/n could still taste him on her lips, feel the way his hands had fallen to rest on her hips and pull her close to his body as she deepened the kiss.

the memory seemed to have fast-forwarded for the mentally-matured y/n that was reliving the entire situation. somehow between y/n deepening the kiss with cody and the backstage area being the setting, when y/n pulled away from the kiss and opened her eyes, she found herself being pushed down and landing on what she remembers to be cody’s bed.

she stared up at cody who was in the process of pulling off his shirt and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. y/n wanted to laugh at the smell of tacos that filled the room, remembering how the two of them hadn’t been able to keep their hands off of the other and settled for taking the tacos home. of course, the tacos would be forgotten until the morning after.

“c’mere beautiful, i’ve waited long enough to have you like this. now, be a good girl and let me take care of you.” y/n heard him mumble as he leaned down on top of her to capture her lips in a kiss.

the immersion in her memory broke all too quickly when she tasted something like water on her lips, and the smell of cody had faded into the smell of austin.

“hey, drink up, y/n.” austin said to her, reaching for her hand and bringing it up to the water bottle so she could hold it instead.

y/n didn’t recognize the area austin had brought her to. they were surrounded by stage equipment and now that she’s conscious, she realized she wasn’t even sitting on a proper chair. austin had hoisted her up to sit atop a random crate of stage equipment and stood in front of her between her legs.

she downed the water bottle without even realizing it, it was only when austin pulled the empty water bottle away from her and placed it beside her legs that she realized she was finished. austin took a step away, realizing the position they were in and how inappropriate it would have looked to any outsiders. especially after he felt cody shooting him a death stare until they were finally out of his sight. austin felt a chill creep down his spine at the recent interaction.

“he was outside when i carried you away. he saw us but i have no idea what he thinks happened in the bathroom between us.” austin told her, pushing himself up and shuffling around slightly so he could sit beside the woman.

“you’re fucking lying to me right now. he saw me like that? did he see the flowers?” she questioned him, seemingly so full of energy in that moment. y/n had turned her head to look at austin, her eyes wide with fear. cody would know the flowers were for him - they were the same flowers he gave to her after all.

“y/n, i’m willing to bet money that cody has probably seen you in less favorable conditions. but no, he didn’t see the flowers. i managed to flush it all down the toilet before i took you out.” austin reassured her, meeting the girl’s gaze and flashing her a small smile to reassure her.

y/n found it odd to be comforted by austin’s words. before this, the two were acquaintances, and now austin had heard y/n’s entire cody rhodes rant all while the girl coughed up flowers on to his chest.

she shifted her body so she was facing more towards austin, and leaned forward until she felt her head hit the man’s chest. although she was certain that she didn’t have the energy to cry anymore, she could feel the tears pool in her eyes.

“you know, i had it too. hanahaki, i mean. not a crush on cody.” austin found himself admitting to y/n, shocking even himself. the woman hadn’t responded besides a small laugh at the mention of cody, and austin took that as the okay to continue. he wrapped his arm back around y/n, rubbing her back as he continued telling her his experience.

“i guess a similar situation to yours. she was my childhood best friend, been friends since diapers and even used to take baths together when we were really young. our moms are best friends, even to this day. i remember having to sit through every guy that she went through, and then, she ended up getting pregnant by her fiance at the time.” austin took a moment to pause, feeling you shift in his arms. he loosened his grip around you, looking down at you as you lifted your head and made eye contact with him.

“and then? clearly you’re fine now. are you and her together?” y/n asked, unable to hide the hint of hope and excitement that had crept into her voice. perhaps it’d go that way with her and cody… maybe.

“it’s been a little over a year since i got the surgery.” austin admitted, not liking the way y/n had deflated after the fact. he took the chance to bring the woman back in his arms, pulling her back into his chest so he could hold her. he knew what he was about to say next could potentially make or break the situation.

“we’re not friends anymore. i can’t even tell you how i used to feel about her because it’s just not there anymore. i knew the risk of the surgery, the way they said that it’d remove all emotions towards the person but… you know, i never thought about the implications. the fact of the matter is, even though we tried to remain friends, i couldn’t even feel an ounce of that happiness or connection that friendship gives with her specifically.” austin sighed, feeling his heart drop in his chest. “it’s weird, if i’m honest. i know at one point i knew what love felt like and i know that it was once directed towards her. but now, i can’t even think of her as a friend because there’s nothing there.”

“but you told her. you told her that you were in love with her?” y/n questioned, to which austin answered with a slight hum. she could feel how heavy her heart had become, how the tightness in her chest had returned. y/n fought back a cough as she asked her next question, “but you can still fall in love, right austin?”

surgery. y/n knew how precious life was and how unlikely it’d be for cody to return her feelings. however, would life be worth it if she forgot the feeling of falling in love and being in love with cody? would life be worth living if she would not even be able to continue a friendship with cody? would she even be able to fall in love again after the fact?

and for austin, he hadn’t ever thought of the answer to that question before. it wasn’t like he was actively searching for love again. sure, he loves his job, he loves his family but he wasn’t in love with anyone. but a little voice in the back of his head would whisper that if he were to pursue someone like that again, he’d imagine that it’d be directed towards the woman that he had pressed against his chest and that he’d have the same thought of “protect her” as he does in that moment.

so, he would settle for an “i don’t know” as an answer.

just as austin was about to answer the woman, he heard the sounds of someone making their way through the other crates of stage equipment. he could only assume that it was cody who was making such a ruckus, after all, who else would be rushing through an area that was practically hidden away if it wasn’t for stage equipment or to find someone.

and eventually, cody finds them, although he’s certain they do not know that he sees them. he takes note of the way austin had you in his arms before pulling away and getting off of the crate and standing in front of you almost protectively. before y/n can even ask what austin was doing, cody made himself known.

“hey, settle down guard dog. it’s just me.” cody said, stepping in between two larger crates that had been used to block off the area to reach the two. his comment didn’t seem to sit nice with austin, who only clicked his tongue in acknowledgement.

y/n perked up at cody’s voice, her eyes widened at the sight of cody. she could only remember seeing the photo of brandi in her mind, and she bit back another cough. she jumped down from the crate and landed on her feet, taking a step towards cody. “cody it’s not what it looks like.” y/n found herself saying, although she didn’t know why she felt the need to defend her and austin being in an area together alone.

cody cocked a brow at her words. now he certainly believes its exactly what it looks like. he was certain everyone already knew that y/n was his girl, well, technically she was no longer his girl but cody would just push that thought aside. and he certainly was not going to let austin theory be the man to think he can even try with getting with y/n. after all, he knew y/n and everything she liked and wanted in a relationship: austin would never meet those standards.

“if its not what it looks like then why was your roided-up german shepherd carrying you out of the men’s restroom and bringing you back here?” cody questioned, beginning to make his way towards y/n and reaching out his arm as if to grab her hand and pull her away.

austin immediately stood in front of y/n, staring down cody. “look, it’s seriously not what it looks like, rhodes. y/n and i are friends. and if anything, i should be asking you what your wife thinks about you kissing another woman on the forehead and always being so touchy with her. especially in such a public are where all of your coworkers can see.” austin practically spat at cody.

y/n’s eyes widened at the altercation that could potentially grow into something more. “austin it’s okay i-“ y/n tried to say before being cut off by cody.

“listen here, theory. i am completely in love with my wife and have been married to her for years now. in fact, we are about to start a family so for your information, my wife clearly doesn’t see y/n as a threat because she trusts me. and you don’t know a damn thing about y/n and i’s friendship. she and i have always been and forever will be only friends. never have i felt an emotion beyond friendship for her. now let me have a talk with my- y/n?” cody’s tone had turned harsh, not liking how austin had seemed to “protect” you from cody. it was as if austin had taken his spot in y/n’s life from right under his nose and in such a short time. however, he had been cut short by the sound of y/n falling to her knees and dry heaving.

it hurt. that’s all y/n could remember thinking of in that moment as she listened to cody. each sentence had felt like the man had personally took a knife and repeatedly stabbed her. her chest tightened, her throat burned, and she struggled to breathe. y/n wasn’t even aware that she had fallen to her knees, and she certainly didn’t feel the two men quickly falling to their knees on either side of her.

y/n could feel as if her lungs were splitting in her chest, as with one cough a pink carnation flower emerged from her mouth. she continued coughing, collapsing in the two men’s arms as a seemingly endless rope of pink carnations continued spewing out of her mouth with every cough she let out.

before she fell unconscious, she could only wish to forget the look of realization, hurt, and unspoken apologies that appeared on cody’s face as austin yelled for an ambulance to be called.

|| next part >>

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