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she-is-juniper · 2 years

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Only Ones Who Know — an Elvis Presley x Reader series (chapter one)

Pairing: Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x Reader

Type: series (chapter 1 / ?)

Warnings: fluff, some angst, pining, long lost lovers, slow burn

Prompt: You and Elvis grew up together; he was your best friend and first love, but he and his family moved away. Eight years later, Elvis walks into the diner where you work...and he doesn’t recognize you. But there’s an intense connection between the two of you. Should you let things between you play out organically, or should you tell him who you really are?

Word Count (by chapter): 5K

Rating (by chapter): M (mature)

A/N: This is the first chapter of my new series, Only Ones Who Know! ♡ It’ll be a slow burn but I hope you’ll stick around for the payoff!

I wrote this fic visualizing Austin!Elvis, but you could also read it with real!Elvis as well if you prefer. The events of this series are kind of a combination of real life events from Elvis’ life and the events of the film; thus, it may not follow the outline of events exactly as they appear the film. Inspiration for the plot more closely but loosely resembles real life documentations of Elvis’ life in 1956 (sources are here).

I’m really excited for this one! So please for the love of all that is holy, comment/reblog/send asks if you want to see more of my writing—thank you in advance!

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July 4th, 1956

On a sleepy, sweltering hot July afternoon on the east side of Memphis, the newly-crowned King of Rock and Roll sauntered in the doors of the diner where I was working.

I was refilling a customer’s mug of coffee when I saw him walk in, and I didn’t realize I had overfilled it until the man exclaimed and jumped up from the table.

“Sorry, sir,” I said, frazzled, and hurried to soak up the overflow of coffee from the table with a handful of napkins. My knees threatened to give out as I snuck another glance at the newcomer at the door. It was him. It was really him. Elvis Presley. The King of Rock and Roll. Arguably the most famous—and most controversial—musician in the world right then.

My childhood best friend. The boy I hadn’t seen in eight years. My first kiss.

Elvis surveyed the room full of open diner seats with curious eyes, finally settling on a booth by the windows. He slid into the seat, continuing to scan the restaurant, until he met my gaze, and the world stopped—for me, at least. For him, though…there was no change to his face, no spark of recognition in his blue eyes. Simply a raise of the chin: an acknowledgement for waitressing service.

And it was in that moment that I realized that Elvis Presley had no idea who I was.

I rushed to finish cleaning the customer’s table. I felt Elvis’ eyes boring into the back of my head, waiting for me to come over there to take his order, and I cursed inwardly when I realized no one else was working today who could take his order instead. It was only me.

I could hide in the kitchen, I thought. But the route to the kitchen was right in his line of sight. There was a table toward the back that I hadn’t wiped down yet, I realized, so I avoided the musician’s gaze and took my sweet time spraying and wiping down the table.

A whistle got my attention. Elvis Presley was flagging me down. “What’s a man gotta do for a hot meal at this restaurant?” he said, flashing his white teeth at me.

My heart leapt into my throat. There was simply no way around it. I would have to go over there.

I took a steadying breath and pretended to busy myself in my order pad as I made my way over to the singer. Would he remember me at last once I was closer?

“Sorry for the wait, sir,” I quavered once I reached his booth. It took everything in my might for me to pry my eyes from my order pad and meet his eyes again. But I finally did.

Elvis Presley, there, in the flesh. With his clean suit and styled black hair, he looked like a movie star and exuded a larger-than-life aura. My cheeks felt hot as he gazed up at me with his familiar icy eyes and smiled warmly.

But not a glimmer of recognition.

“Was starting to think you folks might be closed here on the Fourth of July,” he drawled, “‘til I saw that other man sitting over there, the one you spilled coffee all over.”

His voice—his genuine voice, not distorted through my car radio, or through the tiny speakers of my television set—was exactly as I remembered it, albeit much lower in pitch. He was a man, now, after all. God, was he a man.

He leaned forward toward me expectantly, and I realized I had just been staring at him for far too long. I scrambled for any kind of intelligent response.

“We may be slow today, but we’re open,” I said as casually as possible while I handed him a menu.

“And that man’s coffee?” Elvis asked, smirking.

“Oh, you know. It’s our Fourth of July special. Everyone gets, uh, a little extra coffee today.”

The singer laughed, and I chewed on my cheek, mentally praising myself for being able to come up with a joke like that while serving Elvis Presley. I was still reeling at the fact that he didn’t remember me. Beneath the overwhelming feeling of surprise that he’d serendipitously come into the diner where I worked, I felt a twinge of hurt.

Who am I kidding? Of course he doesn’t remember me.

But I remembered him, vividly. Not the Elvis Presley whose crooning voice was currently sweeping the world’s radio stations with his latest single ‘Heartbreak Hotel’. Not the Elvis Presley who had just premiered on the Steve Allen Show a few days prior, wearing a ridiculous tuxedo and singing to a basset hound.

I remembered the Elvis Presley who lived in Tulepo, Mississippi. The boy next door.

The Presley family lived in the run-down house next to my family’s, almost a decade ago. Their only son Elvis and I essentially grew up together; he was like the brother I never had. A flash of memories came back to me…memories of running around the neighborhood with Elvis—all skin and bones back then—holding hands while we explored, because that was just what you did when you were kids. Our worn shoes perpetually dusty from the dirt roads. Our lives immersed in the sounds of rhythm and blues. For twelve years, long before he’d found fame as a musician, Elvis Presley was my best friend.

And now, he didn’t remember me.

If my face had contorted with the sudden onslaught of the memories, he didn’t seem to pick up on it. “Well, hon, forgive me if I order something other than the coffee, then,” he jested. Good natured as ever.

“What’ll you have?” I asked.

“A Coke, for now,” he replied. He was…staring at me, now. An inquisitive smile spread across his face. “Do you…?”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked.

“...Do you know who I am?” Elvis asked.

I gaped. Was he asking if I knew him?

Oh, that arrogant braggart.

“Do I know you?” I repeated with mock naivety. My initial shock reaction was burning into acerbity. “Hmm. Can’t say that I do.”

“That’s too bad,” Elvis remarked. He suddenly seemed as though he was infinitely more interested in me than before.

“Well?” I said haltingly. “Don’t you know me?”

Elvis’ flashed that irresistible grin. “Well, of course I do,” he said with complete seriousness. My heart stopped beating until he said, “You’re my waitress. And a pretty one, at that.”

My blood boiled—either with aggravation or with flattery, I wasn’t sure. It was at that moment that I recognized the unmistakable tension between our bodies, fueled by the flirtatious sparkle in his eyes. I hadn’t felt this way in a long, long time. Not since the last time I’d seen Elvis Presley, eight years ago.

“I’ll be back with your drink, then,” I bit out, but before I could turn away, he speaks again.

“What’s your name, darlin’? I don’t see a nametag on you.”

I touched my uniform where I usually pinned my nametag—the nametag I just so happened to have forgotten on my bathroom counter this morning of all mornings. My name.

This would be it…the moment he realized who I was.

“My name?” I repeated.

He just looked at me expectantly.

I gazed back for too long, praying for him to realize. I wanted to tell him, so badly. But even more, I wanted him to remember. I didn’t know what to do. But before I could decide, a voice thundered from the kitchen.

“Order up! Missy, where you at?” Ray, the diner’s grumpy head cook, tapped the order bell three times and scowled at me through the kitchen window. “Cut the gas and get back to work,” he barked.

“So, ‘Missy’?” Elvis asked.

I blinked. “Missy” was Ray’s nickname for every waitress at the diner, and not exactly a term of endearment seeing as he only said it when he was impatient with us. But Elvis didn’t need to know that.

“You can call me ‘Missy’ if you want,” I responded at last, the coyness in my voice easily mistaken for coquetry. Sure enough, Elvis’ face lit up like a light.

“Missy,” he repeated. “I won’t keep you.”

“I’ll be right back,” I said and smiled tightly as I skirted off to the kitchen.

I still couldn't believe my eyes. Elvis was here, really here. I shouldn’t have been surprised, seeing as he spent his teenage years in this city, and his parents still lived here. I had just moved to Memphis this year when I enrolled for the local women’s college, but I had yet to run into the newly-famous Elvis or his family. Until now.

He was so…different. So sure of himself, no longer the humble, awkward, shy, scrawny boy I’d once known. Perhaps that Elvis no longer existed. It had been almost eight years, I realized, since the last time I’d seen him in the flesh. Eight years since the Presleys loaded up their belongings in their 1939 Plymouth and left for Memphis.

I remembered that day like it was yesterday, although I’d spent the past eight years trying with all of my might to forget it. Trying to wish I could take back what I’d said on that day.

I had to remind myself that I, too, had changed. I had grown up, too. I probably looked completely different from the girl he knew from our modest Tulepo upbringing.

“How many times will I have to tell you to stop flirting with the customers?” Ray, the cook, grumbled as I grabbed a plate of food from the counter.

“I’m not flirting with nobody, Ray,” I said lightly, checking the burger on the plate. “You forgot the mustard.”

Ray snatched the plate back to fix the order. “Who is that kid anyhow? He ain’t from around these parts, is he?” Ray huffed.

“Not anymore,” I grumbled under my breath. But Ray was looking harder through the kitchen window toward where Elvis was seated. His eyes narrowed.

“That can’t be that clown from the Milton Berle show, can it? Vernon and Gladys’ son?”

I said nothing, just took the plate from Ray and poured a glass of Coca-Cola from the fountain. Ray was huffing to himself as I exited the kitchen; I made out the words “those obscene hips” and “corrupting the youth.” Like most of the country, the citizens of Memphis were split between lauding the King of Rock and despising him; Ray, I understood then, was among those who thought the latter. It was as much of a shock to see “The New Elvis Presley” on Steve Allen wearing a tuxedo as it had been to see him thrusting his hips on Milton Berle a few months ago. Maybe his management was pushing for a new image in response to the public backlash.

After delivering the hamburger to the man on whom I’d spilled coffee earlier, I returned to Elvis’ table with a pounding heart and gave him his drink.

“So, Missy,” Elvis drawled and took a drink. “You from around here?”

Hearing the strange nickname from his lips, directed at me, was like the nail on the coffin. I felt all at once hopeless and…well, curious. If he didn’t remember me, and yet he was flirting with me, how would this play out?

“I live here, in Memphis,” I told him.

“Truly?” Elvis toyed with the straw of his Coke between his teeth. “Never seen you around. I would have remembered a face like yours. You always lived here?”

This was becoming just unbearable.

“No, I moved here for the women’s college, about a year ago.”

“Ah. A college girl,” he remarked. “Must be as smart as you are pretty.”

“What about you?” I asked, playing dumb. “Where are you from?”

“Where am I from, or where’d I come from?”

“Well, you seem like you wanna talk about both, so I guess both.”

Elvis tilted his head to the side and continued looking directly into my eyes. “Where I’m from, you’ve probably never heard of it,” he said. You’d be surprised, I thought sullenly. “But where I’ve just come from, you’ve definitely heard of it.” He leaned closer to me, gazing at me through his thick lashes, a playful glint in his eyes. “The Big Apple”.

“New York City?” I gasped. “How do you get here?”

“By train. Twenty-seven hours. Just got off.”

“Well, you must be starving then.”

“Famished.”

I realized, despite how miffed I was about the whole situation, that I couldn’t resist from mirroring his smile and the way he leaned toward me while we talked.

“What’ll you have?” I asked. Elvis ordered the special of the day—country fried steak with cream gravy.

“So, New York City, then? Must be some kind of big hot shot then, huh?” I mused while I took down his order. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging I knew who he was.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” Elvis replied. “Just a boy come home to visit his mama.”

I thought about his mama. Back in Mississippi, Mrs. Presley used to always thump my head with a rolled-up newspaper for tracking my muddy feet through her kitchen. But she had a warmth about her, and she always cooked the best meals. I wondered if she would remember me, if she saw me now, or if—like her son—she wouldn’t recognize me at all anymore. When I first moved to Memphis, I used to think about going to visit her, but I never did. Never felt like it was my place to do so. The Presleys were the talk of the town now that their son was riding into stardom, and I was certain the last thing Mrs. Presley needed was another girl knocking on her door asking about her son.

“Actually, there’s another reason I’m here,” Elvis went on.

“Oh?” I said. “Got a girl back at home for you, then?” I watched him carefully, curious to see his reaction. It did not disappoint; Elvis’ back stiffened ever so slightly.

“Naw,” he responded. “Well, not anymore.” He flashed his teeth at me again. “That’s not the reason, anyway.”

“Pray tell, then.”

“Do you like rock n’ roll, Missy?”

I did. Like Elvis, I grew up immersed in rock n’ roll’s roots. Like him, the soul of the South’s music had been etched into my bones as I grew up.

When I nodded, Elvis reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a canary-colored ticket. He slid it across the table, and I picked it up to examine it. His name was printed elegantly across the top of the ticket—“Elvis Presley”.

“There’s a concert going on at Russwood Park this evening,” Elvis said.

“You came twenty-seven hours on a train from New York just for a concert?”

“And to visit my mama, of course.” He smiled again. “It’s a benefit concert. Last I’d heard, there’s gonna be ten thousand people in the stadium. And thousands are already waiting in line.”

“Wow,” I said, and bit back a smirk as I traced his name in bold letters. “Must be some big name headliner, then, this ‘Elvis’ guy.”

I couldn’t tell if he knew or not that I was joshing him. “Some people seem to think so,” he said. But his eyes grew hardened. “Other people seem to think he’d be better off in jail.”

“Jail?”

“Jail.” Elvis sighed deeply. “He’s expected to put on a ‘family-friendly’ show tonight,” he said, “but he’s torn. I would imagine,” he added, still putting up a front.

“Torn between what?”

“Between doing what he’s told, and doing what his heart says.”

“Well…” I made a bold move; I slid into the seat across from him and rested my chin on my hand. “You know what I say?“

He looked enraptured. “What say you, Missy?”

“When it comes to matters like this, this guy Elvis…I say, he’s gotta listen to his heart.”

Elvis’ smile grew like a flower blooming across his face. “That’s good advice,” he said. “Maybe you should tell him that some day.”

“Maybe you’ll tell him yourself, since you said you’d be there tonight,” I replied and batted my eyelashes, the pinnacle of naivety.

“Maybe I will,” he affirmed with a laugh.

“Well, you better take your ticket back, then, sir,” I said, handing him back the ticket. “Wouldn’t wanna lose this.”

But Elvis didn’t reach for it. “That’s for you,” he said. “If you want it.”

“For me?”

“You said you like rock n’ roll, didn’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then you’ll like it,” he promises.

“What about you?” I asked.

“Oh, you’ll find me there.”

“I don’t get off work until 8,” I realized.

“That’s alright.” He smirked. “The last band probably won’t start until 8:30. That’s the one you’ll wanna see.”

I didn’t know what to say. “What if I can’t get in?” I asked at last. “You said there were already thousands of people in line.”

Elvis cocked an eyebrow and reached for the ticket in my hands. His hand brushed conspicuously against mine as he flipped it over. There was an official looking stamp on the other side that read, “V.I.P. Backstage”.

“You’ll just show this to the usher,” Elvis said, his voice husky, his hand still touching mine. “And they’ll show you where to go. And if you run into any trouble, you just ask for a Colonel Tom Parker. Got it, darlin’?”

I was, for lack of a better word, dazzled. “Okay,” I quavered.

Elvis seemed enraptured by my sudden befuddlement. He took my hand and folded my fingers around the ticket. And he smiled—that same smile I knew from before, that smile I could never forget.

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Attending an outdoor concert with ten thousand other people in the heat of the Tennessee summer was not exactly my idea of a good time.

But there I was, walking up to the entrance of Russwood Park, clutching the V.I.P. ticket Elvis Presley had gifted me as if it contained my very soul. I could still scarcely believe I had run into him at the diner, and I still had yet to process everything that had happened. It felt as though I were existing in a dream, or some other state of unreality. I had taken the bus from the east side to downtown Memphis, in a daze the whole time.

When I finally reached the gates, the stadium ushers gawked at my ticket. After much debate amongst each other and after calling a manager, they were able to authenticate the stamp on the back of my ticket. As I was led through the crowd, surpassing the long line of disappointed-looking girls who would be inevitably sitting in the very back of the stadium at this point, I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

The other performers had already finished their sets. The only group left to perform was Elvis Presley’s.

Once we descended the stadium stairs and reached the floor level, the stadium usher traded me off with my own personal security guard. I raced to keep up with his huge strides. We shuffled through the crowd, which only grew denser as we neared the stage. There was a buzzing tension reverberating through the audience; it was almost time for the concert to start. Each concertgoer on the floor level had their own seat, but I knew from the rumors about Elvis Presley’s other shows that these seats would become all but obsolete the second he emerged on the stage.

All eyes seemed to be on me with envy as soon as the guard and I reached the stage, which was massive and must have taken hours if not days to construct in the center of the baseball field. He led me around to the side of it, where a small set of stairs led up to the grassy area behind the towering stage set. The security guard instructed me where to stand and left me there to my own devices.

It was a zoo. Stagehands and roadies, sweat dripping down their faces, scuttled about the backstage area, making last-minute adjustments to all kinds of cords and props. I spotted a group of musicians tuning their instruments, wearing suits and bowties—his backing band.

And then I saw him.

He stood with his back to me at the very back edge of the stage. He had changed into all-black attire that suited the color of his greased hair. that fit his body perfectly. His hands, I noticed, were clasped in front of him. He wasn’t moving, save for a nervous bounce of his left leg. I knew exactly why he was nervous tonight.

I moved a bit closer, circling so I could see his profile better. And I saw that his eyes were closed and his lips were moving ever so slightly.

He was praying.

Just as soon as I had caught him in the midst of this reverent moment, he had finished. He tilted his head back and gazed up at the orange evening sky.

Everything happened fast after that. He sauntered to his bandmates and clapped their backs with a nervous smile. I slinked back into the shadows, suddenly anxious about him spotting me. And then the stagehands were leading the boys to the side of the stage, where the stage lights had been dimmed down and thousands of people were already cheering. I trailed behind the line of musicians, shocked beyond belief when I saw the vantage point I would have for this concert. The sea of people looked unreal from up on the stage.

A blinding spotlight shone down on Elvis as he emerged from the stage. The sound that erupted from the audience was deafening.

He hadn’t even played yet, and already it was pandemonium among the crowd. I watched helplessly—and with gratitude for my V.I.P. access—as dozens and then hundreds of fans broke from their seats. In a tidal wave, they swept to the stage, screaming and crying. Security manning the barricades struggled to keep the girls from climbing over.

Elvis reached the microphone. He looked incredible—and I noticed for the first time, under the stage lights, that he was wearing splashes of red with his black suit. A red tie and red socks. Elvis’ voice boomed through the microphone as he greeted the crowd and asked them politely to return to their seats. I wouldn’t have been able to tell he was nervous if not for the tell of his bouncing leg.

But that leg did not stop bouncing. It only intensified.

“You know those people in New York aren’t going to change me none,” Elvis crooned to the screaming crowd. He regarded them heartily, his blue eyes sweeping through each and every person. And then his voice became powerful, wrought with passion. “I'm going to show you what the real Elvis is like tonight.”

He lifted a single finger and wiggled it. The crowd went beserk.

He launched into ‘Heartbreak Hotel.’ The bounce of his leg spread through his body as though he were possessed, but that was what everyone was here to see. I saw girls crying, raking their hands down their faces, trying to fling their bodies over the stage barricades. And he was a fireball of energy. I’d never seen anything like him, and I couldn’t believe this was the same Elvis I’d played street games with as kids.

The concert was a whirlwind. Song after song, Elvis’ hips swiveled dangerously with the rhythm. It was directly in contrast to the squareness of his television debut of “The New Elvis” that had premiered only a few days earlier on the Steve Allen show. No more white tail, no more singing to basset hounds. This was something different entirely, and he knew it. He wielded a strange power over his audience, like a magician casting a trance.

I wanted to see more. The stage view was phenomenal in its own rite, but I couldn’t see his face. I wanted to—needed to—see his face. And part of me longed for him to see mine.

My eyes caught a small space in the crowd right next to the stairs I’d come up to come backstage. The rush of the crowd in the initial excitement left a hole in the sea of people that hadn’t yet been filled again. I decided to go for it. I stepped down the sidestage stairs and was immediately enveloped by the crowd. No one seemed to notice; all eyes were locked on the King.

As Elvis belted out hit after hit— 'I Want You, I Need You, I Love You', 'Blue Suede Shoes', 'Long Tall Sally'—I worked myself closer and closer to the front of the stage I felt, yet again, as though I were in a dream. A part of me knew how absolutely foolish—and dangerous—it was to leave the comfort of my backstage access. A bigger part of me didn’t care. The energy of the crowd seemed to permeate Elvis’ very bones. He was a firestorm, and I was enraptured by him. I was a fish on a line, tethered to him, and he reeled me in closer and closer.

By the time they’d reached their last song, ‘Hound Dog’, I was right in front of the stage.

Elvis towered over me as he sang. I could see the sweat glisten off his handsome face, dripping off his unruly greased hair. People slammed into me from behind, but I couldn’t care less. I felt drunk with the sight of him, a god amongst men. A god who used to be my friend.

Elvis fell to his knees on the stage. Hands reached out to touch him. He leaned into the crowd—suddenly grasping the face of a girl standing a few people away from me. Her mouth was open in astonishment as he leaned in and smiled, just almost brushing his lips against hers but not quite. And then it was the next girl. And the next.

And then it was me.

Still singing in that sultry voice, Elvis’ gripped my chin with his hand like he’d done the others and his eyes locked on mine. And he froze, recognizing me all at once. It was only for half a second, but he’d stopped singing. His expression completely changed. He blinked, hesitating.

I just smiled up at him.

He tightened his grip on my face and kissed me.

His mouth tasted like sweat and an unmistakable sweetness. My knees threatened to give out; he could have held me up with just his hand on my chin. This was not just a light brush of his lips on mine, like it was for the other girls. This was a kiss, several seconds long, in front of the whole world. I melted into him. And as he pulled away, his prolonged gaze indicated clearly to me that if he had his way, he’d want to do much, much more than that.

It was our second kiss.

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I don’t know how, but I somehow made it backstage again as soon as the concert was over. I was still reeling from the kiss when I spotted him. He was being escorted by men in security uniforms through the bustle of stagehands. “You were warned, boy,” one of them growled at Elvis, but he was grinning like a naughty child.

“I didn’t do nothin’ wrong,” he said.

“Get in the car, Mr. Presley.”

But then Elvis spotted me. “Hold on just one second, boys,” Elvis said. He broke away and ran up to me. My heart hammered.

“Hey, Missy,” he said, calling me that stupid nickname again. “You made it.” He was absolutely drenched in sweat like he’d jumped in the Mississippi River. He was a mess, but he never looked better.

“Looks like that Elvis Presley really followed his heart tonight,” I grinned.

He smiled so big. “He got some advice from a real smart girl.”

We didn’t speak for a few moments, just gazing at each other and smiling, soaking each other in. I thought about our kiss in the crowd, thought about how much trouble he was about to be in for that performance. Thought about how his features still resembled the Elvis I used to know.

“Why were you in the crowd instead of up here?” he asked.

“I wanted to see your face while you sang,” I admitted in a rush.

He laughed, perplexed, still panting with the exertion of his performance. “I'm so glad you made it.” I thought he would be absolutely exhausted immediately after the show, but his eyes were slight with an infectious fire. He couldn’t take them off of me, and I couldn’t rip mine away. The connection between us was so intense it almost hurt.

“Elvis,” I said.

“Now you know who I am.”

“I always knew who you were.”

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he said, transfixed.

His words shook me to my core. These were words I could have only dreamed about him saying to me eight years ago. And now that he was saying them, here, after what he’d accomplished…

I wanted to tell him who I was. I wanted to, so badly. But the way he was looking at me now…he was looking at Missy, not Y/N. And I was scared of losing that.

Whatever old emotions about the past he’d inflicted upon me, I stifled away. It didn’t matter that he didn’t remember me. It didn’t matter who I was, or who he was, or who we used to be.

The only thing that mattered was right now.

“If that’s what you think,” I whispered, smirking shyly. “Kiss me again.”

Elvis didn’t waste a single second. He grabbed my face again, gently this time, cupping my cheeks in his hands like I was a fragile work of art, and he kissed me. I didn’t care that, to him, this was just a kiss for some random fan who he’d just met that day. Or that, if it wasn’t me, he’d have no problem finding someone else to kiss instead.

Because to me, it was everything.

Compared to his gentle hands, his mouth was rough, desperate. He pried my lips open with his, and I let him, just as eager. A voice came from behind him, one of the security guards: “Mr. Presley, it’s time to go.” He pulled away, eyes wide, and kissed me once more before breaking apart. “I have to go.”

“Alright,” I trembled.

“Beale Street,” he said as he backed away. “Meet me at Beale Street, tonight.”

“Where on Beale Street?”

Behind me, fireworks went off in the sky. His eyes were alighted with orange and red. “Club Handy,” was the last thing he said to me before the security guards dragged him off the stage into a cruiser and drove him away through the crowds.

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A/N: This is the end of Chapter 1 but I’ll be writing more!!! Any predictions?!? I apologize for any typos!! I’m really drunk as I type this so if thre are typos just lmk and I’ll fix it tomorrow! Also here’s my schpiel I copy and paste on the end of every fic haha please read it:

I’m dying to hear your thoughts about it! Please note that I write fanfiction for free; my only request for repayment is a genuine expression of your thoughts, opinions, likes/dislikes, and predictions about the story. Whether it’s simply a “Wow, I loved it!”, a keyboard smash, a series of convoluted thoughts in the tags, or even a full-out review, please know that any and all feedback is welcome!

Please send me asks because they make me smile so hard omg!

Much love ❤︎ from Juniper

Also I do have a taglist but I’m too drunk to tag anyone tonight so i’ll do it tomorrow but ya lmk via my ask box if you want me to ad d you to it@ !!

#Austin butler!elvis #elvis 2022 #Elvis x reader #Elvis Presley x Reader #austin butler #Elvis Presley fanfiction #elvis presley imagine #austin butler imagine

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faegoddessog · 6 months

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Fantasy Come True Ch 7/8

Chapter 7: Confessions

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, angst, Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll), cunnilingus, fellatio, overstimulation, light restraint, fingering, light ass teasing (F. receiving), wee bit of delicious mind fuckery

Series Summary: Breaking into the acting world has been a life long dream. It's been tough, plus your relationship with you partner has some struggles, but who doesn't have struggles. A new guy shows up to your improv classes who seems strangely familiar. He seems rather interested in you and you feel unusually comfortable around him, like he projects calm and reassurance. Once you realize who he really is, and what he really likes... it's game on.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, here there be lemons.

A/N: This little gem is per request for the lovely and talented @purejasmine . It's been a collaborative project designed to meet her every Austin need as best I can. Here's to you darling! <clink> I hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed the creative process with parameters not wholly my own!!

Here is the Masterlist of this series.

Chapter 7: Confessions

You did, in fact, make it to his bed before morning was over, however you didn't make it out until much, much later. Lying in the aftermath of being fucked mercilessly into the mattress, he asks about the scenes you are going to tape. You two spend a little time working on your scenes naked in bed. You have one dramatic and one comedic. You run through lines and talk about character motivations. His insights and process are invaluable to you. Some analogies he makes are a little out there or just not familiar to you, but you take it all in.

“What if,” he says, talking about your character's motivations, “she just wants to do whatever she is told because it’s THAT important to her. It’s not that she is powerless, but that she will do whatever she has to, even if it means giving over her power. But in doing that, she is freed to get what she wants. Y’know?”

“No, I don’t get that, giving up the thing that she wants is how she gets it?” you say.

“It's like dominant/submissive play, but without the sex, do you see?” he asks.

“Not really, I don’t think there is an undertone of sex in the scene,” you counter.

“No it’s not really about sex per se, but… it’s just an idea of how to look at the scene. How do you see it?” he asks, letting the Dom/Sub thing go.

After, you entice him into the shower, kissing and washing each other. You are mostly just enjoying the closeness, the touch of his hands on your skin and the feeling of being pampered.

“I’m in the mood for a movie, should we have some snacks and watch something?” Austin says as you are toweling off.

“Sure, I’m down!” you say excited. You love to watch movies.

Austin tells you to go pick something out as he puts together a plate of apples, cheeses and prosciutto. You decide to watch Kingsman: The Secret Service, it’ll be silly and fun. He brings over two sparkling waters, the plate, and a paring knife.

You snuggle up on the couch with his back between your bare legs. You had never bothered putting your clothes back on, just a bra and panty set that you were super excited about finding, as they fit you perfectly, even if they were pricey. You are leaning up against the back of the couch. Austin, in solidarity with your penchant to wander the house in your underclothes, is also clad only in boxers. His long legs stretch onto the oversized ottoman. The plate is on his lap and Austin cuts pieces of apple and cheese, holding them and prosciutto up for you to nibble on. His warm body against your chest is heaven, the clean smell of him all encompassing.

You have never felt so content, and yet a deep longing bubbles up from within. THIS should be your everyday life. Comfortable sized home, man that adores you and loves to pleasure you, delicious food, the craft of acting and storytelling intertwined in everyday life. You let out a big sigh pushing away melancholy thoughts of your supposed ‘ real life’. Your fingers tangle gently with his hair, massaging his scalp, anchoring you to the here and now and the magic of having Austin’s skin on yours.

“Mmm, I think I’m hungry,” he growls sexily out of the blue.

“Hungry?” you glance at the now empty plate as he sets it aside,”What can I get from the kitchen for you babe, I’ll feed you this time,” you offer.

“That’s not what I’m hungry for, my amazing Princess,” he twists his head around to look up at you with a naughty smile, “but I'll take you up on feeding me.”

He flips over onto his stomach.

“Oh, should I pause?” you ask, picking up the remote.

“Oh no,” he pushes the ottoman away with his feet, “ you keep watching Angel.” He sinks down to his knees on the plush carpet. “I just need this irresistible pussy in my mouth,” he threads his arms under your thighs and yanks your ass to the edge of the couch,” right now.” His face is a picture of nearly animistic lust.

Your eyes get big as he grabs the paring knife and swiftly inserts the blade on the fabric at your hip.

“Like, right now,” he pulls up, slicing through the fabric.

He answers the look of scandalous shock on your face with a gruff, “I’ll replace them ten times over Princess, I just can’t wait any longer to taste you.” He does the same to the other side, his chest expanding with his needy breath, the fabric laying open to reveal your groomed vulva.

His urgency stokes a fire in your belly, your potential outrage at his destroying your underclothes sizzling into inflamed desire. You hadn’t been super wet before, when you were just cuddling, no more than your usual when you are with Austin. But when he grabbed and pulled you toward him, the buzzing down below commenced. When he cut your favorite panties from your body, you practically gushed.

He nuzzles right into your mons, inhaling your scent, smiling. His tongue takes a big, long lingering taste of your lips.

“Mmmggghhh, yes” he moans against you, eyes closed, “your juices are like heaven.”

His head moves up and down as he laps at your labia, dipping in for growling tastes as his hands grip at your thighs, almost like a cat digging in its claws. His tongue tantalizes as it draws teasing circles around your clit. His fingers pull you apart, revealing your sweet inner lips to his hungry tongue.

Just the pressure of his fingers on your lips pulls a soft whining moan of anticipation from your throat. You have one hand curled, fingers between your teeth. The other hand mutes the movie letting it play on unheeded, before twirling his locks around your fingers.

He lifts his eyes to yours.

“I want to make you cum in my mouth, Angel, but I’m going to take my time,” he says. A one sided, open-mouthed smile blooms on his wet lips and he winks.

Something about his wink makes your breath melt away from you in a soft-voiced ‘unghgh’. Your brows furrow together and all you can do is nod in agreement as his ocean eyes glimmer at you from under his long lashes. Your fingers tighten inadvertently in his hair. You feel as much as hear the little chuckle of amusement he gives against your pussy as his lips meet yours.

Long and lightly he drags his tongue up then sucks at your clit just as lightly. It’s so soft as to be almost a tickle, but one that leaves you desperate for more. Luckily, he is here for the eating of your pussy, and willing to give you as much as you want.

He continues his long, slow licks ending in suction on your clit until the sounds you are making and your hand fisting in his hair are clear indications that you need more.

He pushes his long finger inside you. He moans at how wet you are, how hot, how tight.

He slides his coiling finger out and in, licking your clit lightly.

You are sure there will be teeth marks left on your bottom lip when he closes around your clit, sucking you into the vacuum of his mouth.

He falls into a slow rhythmic pace of licking and sucking and shifting his finger in and out with a delicious little curve of his fingertip. All the while, his soft vocalizations of pleasure drift up to your ears. The wet smacking sounds of his suction off your clit drives you wild. He is unhurried, like he could do this for the rest of time.

You try to inhale a big breath, but it catches up in short, little pants. Tingling tightness loops inside you with every drag of his tongue, every immersion of his digit, every wet and sloppy sound as he sucks at your nub.

Slowly you climb that ramp like a click-clack of a roller coaster, every moment bringing you closer to that plummet into ecstasy. Then you are there, on the cusp. Falling, falling, falling, and he keeps his measured pace of feasting at your cunt. Your body goes tight, eyelids fluttering, vagina clamping onto his finger. Little grunts shake your body.

Spurred on by your climax, he pulls his finger out and buries his face in you, fingertips wrapping under and digging into your thighs. His mouth sucks greedily at your entrance, not wanting to waste a drop.

His hips are pumping against nothing, his deep moans vibrating against you, heightening your orgasm. He looks up with dark eyes, face messy. You watch as his wet finger disappears into his mouth and he sucks all your juices off it.

“Do you want my cum, Princess,” he says low, looking for all the world like a feral predator.

“Yes, ple-,” is all you get out before he stands up, pulling you with him. His mouth closes over yours in a hard, salty kiss, you don’t even notice that he has turned you around in the process.

“Far be it from me to deny my Princess what she wants.” He says against your lips. His rock hardness is pressed against your belly, you don’t remember him taking his blue boxers off. Still a little dazzled from your orgasm, you reach out to stroke him, but he grabs your wrist.

“Now, now, if you want it, you’ll do as I say,” his demeanor suddenly changes entirely. He seems taller and more commanding. Your eyes narrow for a second, wondering what he’s playing at, then you recognize the line from the scene you had been working on.

“And if I don’t?” you ask in quiet defiance, pulling out your character and the next line.

“Oh”, his look has a tinge of evil in it, ”I assure you, you’d prefer to follow my directions, Pet,” he adds the nickname to the line.

“Now,” he lets go of you and leans back away from you, “turn around.”

His voice and the serious look in his eye, make you lose your breath just a bit. You turn your back towards him, pressing your thighs together, still sensitive from his oral ministrations.

“Bend over,” his words are neatly whispered in your ear, “all fours.” He isn’t pulling lines from the scene now, just commanding you. Clearly he is thinking about his earlier point.

You hear him sit down on the couch, or would if you hadn’t been gulping so hard. Why did just his tone make you clench?

“Open up further, I want to see,” you hear from behind you.

You step your knees apart.

“Wider,” you feel a finger tip brush your inner thigh, it’s like electricity zig-zagging to your core.

“Push those gorgeous hips back.”

You do, in sort of a puppy pose with your back arched. You feel so deliciously exposed to him.

“Oh, that IS a pretty pussy,” he says almost to himself, then louder, “open it up for me.”

Balancing on your left arm, you reach between your legs and use your fore and middle fingers to spread apart your labia. His spit is beginning to dry on your outer lips. However, the glistening of your inner lips betrays to him how much you are turned on by being told what to do.

‘Now, “ a little rasp of desire sneaks into his voice, “finger yourself.”

Suddenly, you feel unexpectedly hesitant, like this is pushing you out of your comfort zone for some unfathomable reason. You are fine touching yourself, even fine doing it in front of him, but there is something about being so vulnerable bent over and exposed. You are stopped in your tracks, trying to figure out why you feel this way out of the blue.

“Do you still want my cum?” you can almost hear his eyes narrowing in his voice.

“Oh lord yes, Austin,” your tone boarding on begging. Just his name out of your mouth is scintillating. His words snap you out of your hesitation.

You feel his thumbs hold you open, his finger splayed out over your ass and hips bones.

“Then finger yourself,” he insists.

You move your middle finger to slide slowly through your wetness.

“Yes,” he breathes, “just like that. God that is beautiful.”

After a couple minutes, he leans his body over your back, his breath hot on your neck.

“Do you trust me, Pet? “ his hips tuck forward. His hard dick nudges almost lazily against your crotch.

“Yes,” your voice wavers slightly. You stop your finger movement.

“Are you sure?” you can hear his sexy smirk. You twist to look over your right shoulder at him, and are met with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The little dimple that appears over the left corner of his mouth evaporates any equivocation.

“One hundred percent, Austin,” you give in totally.

“That’s my good girl, my sweet Pet,” he croons sweetly in your ear. “Keep fingering yourself,” his tone back to demanding as he moves back to watch you.

As you slide inside yourself again, rubbing over your clit. You smile at his words, at being his good girl.

He is petting the back of your opening, pulling at your wet, pink inner lips. You feel his finger sink in next to yours. He moves in opposition to you, when you go in he pulls out, and vice versa. Fuck, the extra friction is so good.

Then he pulls out and up and you feel his wet finger drag unexpectedly over your asshole. It makes you jump forward.

“Tch, I thought you trusted me,” he admonishes, grabbing your hand.

“I do, Yes, I do” you pant, “ I just…oh!” you feel his tip nudge again against your wet pussy. He gives you no time to finish your sentence.

“Good,” is all he says as he slowly pushes in. “Ohhhh,” he lets out his breath in a long low groan. Your hand lingers, playing with his balls as he sheathes himself fully.

His wet thumb returns to your asshole, just placed there no rubbing, no teasing. You are still a little nervous about what he might do, you aren’t really into things in your butt. But you DO trust him, you remind yourself.

At this angle his cock feels long, prodding your cervix, making you groan.

“Do you want it, beautiful Angel?” his deep reverberations are almost hypnotic, “do you want my cum inside you?”

All you want is for him to fuck you into next week, but he just stays still, dick in you deep, thumb on your ass.

‘I do, yes, give it to me baby, please,” affirming in all the ways you can think of in your Austin-addled state.

“Give?” he questions with an incredulous smile, “ Oh no, you have to come get it, my sexy little cum slut.” The fingertips on his free hand push you slightly forward, then wrap around the front of your hip bone guiding you back. Once you get the gist he takes his hand away.

You can’t help but move on him.

“That’s it, pretty Princess,” his voice is hot caramel pouring over you,”fuck it out of me.”

Your breath leaves you with an ‘oh fuck’ as his words incite a sexual riot in you.

On all fours, you rock back and forth in front of him, along his length. As you rock on his cock, you rub your asshole against his thumb. It’s unexpectedly good. So good, you let go being jumpy about your ass. Your body wants what it wants.

“Oh look at you,” his sexy voice rolling over you, “so greedy for my cock, so starved for my cum, and it's only been a couple hours.” His breath huffs from him in rising passion, ”grinding your ass against my thumb, all hot and wanting. Fuck you are mesmerizing, Princess.”

He starts to lose his own control, unable to stop thrusting into you. “You make me so… fucking… hard. I just want you all the damn time.”

You are moving in synchronicity, his cock in you and you back on his cock. His thumb is giving you that glorious friction, your fingers on your clit; it’s a whirlwind. A veritable tornado of friction, desire, perfect mind-fuckery and magic; Austin Butler magic.

Your pussy clenches hard around him.

“Oh fuck, that’s good,” he groans.

You hear yourself moaning loud Uhhghh’s and Ohhhh’s as you undulate in front of him. You jerk forward involuntarily as your orgasm hits you hard.

Austin’s hands clamp down on your hips, riding you down. There is no way he isn’t filling you with his cum now, no matter how long it takes.

Groaning into the upholstery of the ottoman, you continue to be pounded from behind. He simultaneously holds you down and spreads your cheeks with his hands. Fucking hell, at this angle he is triggering all your buttons and you keep cumming. It’s so good.

He sounds feral behind you. The moans hissing out through his teeth become deep chested growls that become open voweled groans as he fucks you harder and harder. Sweat drips onto your back.

You are losing your mind. Your fingers, trapped under you, are twitching against your clit, you want to stop them, but just can’t quite get them to still.

Finally he pushes in deep, muscles straining. All sound frozen in his lungs, until his deep growls and groans of satisfaction make their exodus from him to wash over you. His hips jerk pushing him just that much deeper as he empties into you.

“I guess,” he pants just behind your ear, “I gave it to you after all.”

“I love it,” you just barely stop yourself from saying ‘I love you’.

Still in you, Austin rolls onto his side, clinging to you like you are the only refuge in his personal storm. You curl up in the cradle of his arms. Taron Egerton is cleverly, yet silently, kicking ass on the TV, although you are both too blissed out to give it any mind.

When you wake up from dozing some time later. When had you fallen asleep? You find that you have rolled over in Austin’s arms to face him. He is petting your hair and holding you to him. He has a weird look on his face, like conflicting thoughts are running through his mind. Once he sees your eyes on him, he smiles big.

“Good nap?”

“Oh lord yes,” you stretch and sit up. “I’ll be right back,” you stand up, but Austin grabs your arm.

“I mean it,” he blurts out. The words clearly by passing his conflicting thoughts and going straight to his mouth.

“What do you mean, Austin,” your brow furrows slightly. Your hand automatically cradles his face.

“I meant what I said, when we were…” his eyebrows lift, conveying his meaning for him, “I want you all the time, I want you here, to stay here, to be with me always.”

“What?” you are dumbstruck by this sudden confession.

“Move in with me, be mine,” his hand covering yours on his face.

Your heart jumps in your chest. It’s like every dream you’ve ever had is being plopped into your lap. You blink once, twice, unsure what to say or do next. Then your bladder reminds you why you got up in the first place.

“I need,” you gesture towards the bathroom,”be right back.”

Sitting in his beautiful little powder room, you attempt to absorb this new information. You had literally been thinking about wanting this life. The fires of hope that spring in your heart are quickly doused by your practical mind.

‘Is this stable? Is it smart to leave all else behind and move in here?’ it asks. Fucking fuckity fuck. You look at yourself in the mirror.

“God dammit,” you whisper to yourself, knowing you can’t ignore her, as much as you want to. As much as you hate it, you rely on your partner financially right now and that is, if not a satisfying life, a safe one. Your sense of self preservation insists that you make sure this isn’t some two month infatuation that will leave you in the cold.

As you walk back into the living room in nothing but your bra, Austin is sitting naked on the couch with his head in his hands. The TV is off.

You sit down in front of him on the ottoman.

“Did I just ruin everything?” he asks, still looking at the floor.

“Huh?” you ask, not expecting him to sound so emotional.

“I asked you to move in and you walked away,” he says looking up at you, the shadows of abandonment flitting across his face, fearful tears shining in his eyes.

“Oh Austin, darling,” you take his face in your hands, “I just needed to pee and clean up and think for a second. You didn’t ruin anything.” You kiss him tenderly on the forehead.

He blows out a big breath, trying to regain his composure.

“Before you say anything, no matter your answer, I need to tell you something, ok?” he states. You nod.

“Remember when I told you before I was falling for you? Well, that was sort of a lie,” he admits.

Your heart falls into your stomach without warning. What the hell is going on? He wants you to stay, but as what? Just his convenient tight pussy? Someone whom he can control by ‘taking care’ of them. Would this just be out of the frying pan and into the fire? Heat rises up your tightening chest. ‘I will NOT cry when he tells me it’s a fling,’ you tell yourself resolutely. You are usually so positive, but the idea of Austin lying to you about falling for you is like a punch in the gut. You brace yourself with a big breath.

“It’s a lie because I’m already so far gone for you. I am so in love with you, my Princess,” his eyes are pleading that you’ll hear his truth, “I know it’s not been that long, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, like I’ve just been waiting for you this whole time.”

His words stop your internal destructive narrative in its tracks. That was NOT what you expected him to say. The look in his eyes is like a release valve for your breath. In a flash you realize you almost fell into your own trap, the one you’ve been cycling in for over a decade.

“Oh” is all you can get out. Your mouth is trying to say words, but you are caught, in his eyes, in his hands, in his heart. You finally recover a little from your shock.

“I love you, Austin,” the words simply slipping past anything else you thought of saying, “I’ve wanted to tell you so many times. I love you, Austin, oh god how much,” your words tumbling out before you can stop them.

Relief floods his face, he pulls you in. His kiss is intense. You had no idea what he had been holding back, until suddenly, he is holding nothing back. It’s like a wave of adoration and affection washes over you as he kisses you and holds you in his arms. It’s so hard to describe, like light flooding into your cells.

He breaks the kiss and crushes you to him.

“So you’ll stay?” he says eagerly.

“Babe, I don’t know.” you are on the verge of tears from the yo-yo of emotions.

“What?” he responds almost incredulously before he takes a second to gather himself back in again, terrified his tender heart will get trudged upon. “Ok, what don’t you know,” he says much more calmly.

“Do you know why I have stayed with him?” you say matter-of-factly,” Security. No, he isn’t a great lover or even a good partner, and sometimes he is an outright asshole. But I know he won’t leave me in the cold as I try my hand at this acting thing.” You ignore the counterpoint of you leaving him, but at least he won’t be in the cold, he’ll just be getting the partner he deserves. Which isn’t you. Austin is the one who deserves all your love and devotion, your thoughtfulness and caring. FUCK, how can you you say no to him, but how can you simply say yes? How can you make this right in your head!

“I would never leave you in the cold Princess, I am offering you security as well as everything he isn’t giving you and more. Please,” he pleads. Even begging with unshed tears in his eyes, he is so utterly beautiful.

“Oh god, this is hard,” you mutter to yourself, looking up at the ceiling, trying to control how topsy-turvy your emotional world just got.

“I know, I know Austin. Please hear me when I say that there is literally no one else on this planet that I would leave for, only you. It’s always and ever only been you. It’s… “ you grab his hands, ‘no… you are everything that I want and so much more.”

Tears spring to your eyes, knowing what you have to say next.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you the answer you want, the one I want, not yet anyway. And I do want to, my darling, I do. I want to scream yes and go back there, gather my stuff and just walk out. The idea of this being my home, of YOU being my home? It’s intoxicating and almost scary in how perfect a dream it is. But my practical side just won’t let me. Austin, you have to understand, I have to be sure. I have to know that this is forever, that this,” you gesture back and forth between you, ”can provide me some stability before I drop that safety net. Once I leave him, I can’t go back and I have nowhere else I can go.”

Miraculously, Austin is nodding, “Ok, I - I hear what you are saying. I can understand that point of view. It’s a big thing to ask of you.” He ponders in silence for a moment, gears turning in his head. “If I can prove to you, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am committed to this, that your security and stability matters as much to me as it does to you, will you?”

“I would do it in a heartbeat, I want nothing more in the world, than to be yours mind, body and soul, Austin” you say, sniffling. Geeze, usually you aren’t this emotional.

“Okay, ’he nods again, “okay love, that gives me some hope to go on, something I can work towards.”

“Something we can work towards,” you correct him. “I love giving you control over me during sex, this,” you push his hand between your legs, ”truly is your pussy, my mouth,” you kiss him, “is only for you now. But, if we are really going to go down the relationship road, I don’t want it to be based on ‘ownership’ like that. I want a partnership, where we can be of equal, if different, support for one another. I want to take care of you as much as you take care of me, y’know what I mean?”

Austin is nodding at you, his hand still pressed to your crotch.

“I love that and I love you, my Princess,” he pulls you into his lap, wiping an escaped tear from your cheek. “It feels so good to actually tell you. I was holding it in, not wanting to scare you away.” His arm closes around you, cradling your head against his naked shoulder.

“Austin, how could your love ever scare me away,” you snuggle in close.

You press his hand back between your legs, suddenly craving him, craving the comfort of sexual contact, of what you DO know, what you ARE sure of: that his body was made for you, and yours for his.

“Please,” you whisper in his ear, “I just want you inside me.”

He turns towards you, brushing his cheek against your lips. “Are you sure baby?”

“Austin Butler just told me that he loved me, yes I am sure,” you smile at him, biting your lip.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, capturing your eyes with his. His wet fingers stroke your labia.

“I DO love you,” he presses in lightly, finding your own wetness already gathering there.

His fingers stroke you, playing around your clit.

“And I want you,” he pushes his finger inside of you, ”to be mine...” You moan low as his thumb lazily arcs, tracing the archway of your clit.

…forever,” he whispers in your ear.

You melt, you pool, you ooze. You are, in this moment, almost willing to say ‘fuck security’ and never leave. Almost.

When you cum in his lap and on his fingers, it’s to his whispered voice in your ear repeating over and over, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You straddle his leg to face him on the couch, gathering his face in your hands.

“I love you Austin Butler, I love you, I’ve always loved you,” now that you have no qualms saying it outloud, you can’t seem to say it enough.

Arms around his neck you press your lips to his, and your pussy to his leg. He flexes his muscular thigh, which pushes right up into your wet folds. You groan slightly into his mouth. His hands are on your hips pulling you towards him, then pushing you away. Your wet pussy laying down strings of slick on his skin.

It’s like some door inside you unlatched and you are suddenly horny as hell. His sexy gaze on you and his tongue unconsciously wetting his gorgeous full bottom lip before capturing it in his teeth. His hands guiding you on him. You get so close to cumming as you ride him. You finally climb off him, panting, heart racing, unsure of what you need next to get you there. The look you give him is so sexy and utterly debauched.

“Oh hunny,” he rumbles, “C’mon.”

He stands and pulls you into a deep kiss, takes you by the hand, walks backward to the stairs. He guides you up the first step. Now, even with his height, he kisses you again. He begins forcing you, with intense kisses, to take steps backwards up the stairs. His hands are on your breasts and your ass; grasping, rolling, kneading. Your hands are all over him, outlining muscles, fingertips in the light hairs on his chest, rubbing his nipples with the pads of your thumbs.

Suddenly you sit hard on the bed, you hadn’t even realized you were in the bedroom.

“Back up and spread those legs, my Princess,” his breath is shaky trying to control his desire for you. “You are fucking incredible and enchanting,” he crawls up your body, until he is croutching above you like a predator over its kill. “I just can't ever get enough of you, my Angel. You drive me crazy in the best ways possible.”

If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined. After this, the bedspread may need to be replaced.

“And in case you are wondering,” his eyes and voice so full of desire, “I’m going to bring that pussy, my pussy, to so many orgasms tonight you won’t be able to walk right tomorrow,” he kisses you hard, pushing himself inside you.

He spends the entire evening and into the night making good on this promise as though it were the first step in proving just how serious he is about keeping you. You cum on his cock as he steadily thrusts into you. He cuddles you sweetly, kissing your forehead, letting your heart rate calm down. Until his hand finds its way to your crotch. You cum on his fingers as he stares deep into your eyes. He holds you tight, nibbling at your neck, kissing your sternum as it rises and falls. He pulls your nipples into his mouth, sucking them one, then the other. He showers your belly with kisses, growling just a little as he does. Now he is settling between your knees, his tongue dipping greedily into your wet snatch. You cum on his tongue as he laps you into oblivion.

You beg for his cock in your mouth. You suck his tip as he strokes his own shaft. You hold his base in your left hand while your right, seemingly of its own accord, plays with yourself. It’s like you just can’t stop. As his hot milky seed spurts onto your tongue, you twitch and swallow, jerk and swallow, cum and swallow. Moaning deep as you lick up every fucking drop of his cum like it’s the nectar of the gods.

After every orgasm, your body searches for more, you just can’t get satiated. And each time, he waits until you come down from your peak before ramping you up again.

Late that night, you are floating in a surreal cloud of oxytocin and dopamine, time meaning nothing. Austin has you bent over the bed, your wrists are in the small of your back. His long fingered hand is wrapped around them, using them as an anchor point as he slams into you. You had begged him to go hard and deep into you and never stop. Maybe, if he fucks you hard enough you might be done. You are moaning on the end of his dick.

“No, I need…” you moan as you twist one hand out from his grasp.

“What do you need, my Princess,” he pants out.

“Over,” you twist your spine, flipping on to your back, legs wide.

He plunges right back into you. You moan. There’s no reprieve for the wickedly horny. His hands are wrapped around the tops of your thighs, thumbs digging in.

You hold up two fingers, his tongue licks up the pads then over, sucking your fingers and swirling his tongue. You withdraw your wet digits and press them between you. Your clit feels huge, engorged as your fingers brush it. Your voice breathing out little yeses as you draw the invisible sigils that you know will get you there.

He watches you. His brows furrowed together, mouth hanging open in a little ‘oh’. This is so much better, being able to see him. He is panting, sweating, straining, doing everything in his power to make you cum yet again. Good lord he is so unbelievably sexy, and he loves you. The thought strikes you, hard.

Suddenly the tinder catches, fire shoots deep into your core as you clench around him, erupting into flames that envelop your pelvis, your spine, your chest up your neck and into your brain.

“Fuck yeah, that’s my girl!” His voice is deep, almost harsh as his hips snap harder, faster back and forth.

You are jerking on him, your orgasm filling you, just as you expect he is going to with his cum. You remove your fingers only to have them replaced with his, light and fast rubbing side to side on your sensitive nub.

“Nonononono!” you scream hoarsely, pushing uselessly at his hands.

“Oh yes, yes,” he says through clenched teeth. “My pussy is getting the works tonight my love, you know what to say and I’m gonna suck, finger, fuck, and shake that pussy until you do.”

You realize he has lulled you into a comfortable cycle of orgasm, come down, relax, then back to orgasm. Now his beautifully evil plan unfolds, and you are so unbelievably sensitive.

You try wriggling away from him, but his hand is clamped down on your thigh as he keeps fucking you. Your eyes are squeezed shut, it’s overwhelming, but oh so good. In a flash he is gone, for a split second there is nothing touching you, and your eyes shoot open, trying to breathe. Then his mouth closes over your pussy. Your breath is gone again as he pulls your clit into the vacuum of his mouth. His tongue is merciless against you. Your hips vibrate, your hands grasp his hair. Your screams fill the room, you can’t even hear the sloppy suction of his mouth on you.

“ SS… SSS… No,no, no! STOP!” you finally cry shaking your head. He rises, immediately grasping your pussy in his large hand, shaking it, keeping you writhing.

“No, I won’t my love, you know that,” his voice is so smooth and relaxed. The palm of his hand pressing and shaking your mons.

Your orgasm rocks you again and again. Again and again you beg him to stop, but never use your word. You have backed yourself up to the headboard in an effort to get away from his hands, his fingers, his mouth. But in the next second, you are pushing against it and towards him. Your body and mind are locked in conflict; it’s too much, it’s not enough. You are pushed so far into pleasure you don’t know how much longer you can stand it. At the same time, you never want him to stop.

“Ok Princess,” he says, getting on his knees, lifting your ankles to his shoulders,”I’m gonna fuck my sweet little pussy until I cum. Until I’m satisfied.” His grin is nothing short of devilry as he slides, long and hard, inside you. Your body is responding without your consent, attempting to plank on his shoulders to get away from his cock.

“Oh no you don’t, “ he pushes your hips back down, impaling you once again, “you are gonna take my cock, darling, like a good girl,” he admonishes.

He leans down, your legs sliding down his arms, your knees close to your armpits. He grabs your arms near the elbows pinning you down like a frog on its back. You can’t push him off, you don’t want to, not that your body is listening to you. It’s insane how fucking maniacally good it feels to be so overstimulated. He slides in and out experimentally in this new position. Fuck, he is deep as he slides right into your g-spot.

Oh. Holy. Fuckballs.

You grit your teeth, shaking your head ‘no’.

No to him.

No to yourself.

You refuse to say the word until he orgasms again. You want to hear what a good girl you are, you want to be his incredible Princess, you want to take everything he can give you.

He rails into you, grunting, growling, moaning; sounds he knows drive you wild. You had no idea that being held down like this would be such a fucking turn on. No idea that you could feel this good for this long. You are about to give in, scream the word. When he pulls out of you and pumping his cock with his hand, spatters your pussy and your belly with thick, creamy cum. His panting groans fill the air, his sweat drips onto your legs. You think you are home free, until his palm starts rubbing his cum into your pussy in circles.

“What a good girl you are, taking my cock so deep” he croons at you. “You want more?” He slips his finger in you, “I’ll keep going Angel, my sweet love.”

You can’t believe he still has the energy to keep going. His thumb falls onto your clit and you just can’t anymore.

“FUCK! Sushi!” you cry out once. You are fucking worn out. Your whole pelvis is buzzing and sobs start shaking your body in an effort to process the whole fucking thing.

He stops instantly and gathers you in his arms.

“Shh, darling. My good Princess. I’m so proud of you, my good girl, my love,” he says softly against your temple.

He is fucking amazing.

He holds you, messy and sweaty, until your heart rate slows and your breathing evens. He holds the bottle of water as you drink, then takes you to the shower. You sit on the little bench, trying not to pass out. He cleans and dries you both quickly and tosses the ruined bedspread off the bed before tucking you into the sheets. He covers you with a blanket he pulls out from his closet and turns out the light. He climbs in behind you, warm body pressed against your back.

“Good night my love. I love you,” he whispers into your ear.

“Mmm, my Austin, love you,” is all you can get out before sleep claims you.

Your eyes flutter open in the morning and you are absolutely relaxed. The revelations of yesterday slide into focus. Austin is in love with you. Austin wants you to stay with him, forever. Austin plans to show you how much your stability matters to him too. It’s like the pieces of your real life are sliding into focus and that fake unhappy life is melting away. When you think about living happily ever after with Austin, you are calm and completely happy. Austin is breathing heavy and even behind you, still deeply asleep. When you get up to use the bathroom you find you are definitely sore, but it’s the best kind of sore you have ever been. When you snuggle back against Austin, a little smile creeps over his face.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler smut #austin butler fic #austin butler x reader #@slowsweetlove #@purejasmine #@richardslady121 #austin butler/reader

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itsnickgalitzine · 4 months

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joyeux noël et bonne année, seasons greetings, happy holidays! been a tad busy with travels, seeing those i haven't much and getting used to events and stuff again. however, i had to send something anyway. you've helped make my life fun, i appreciate knowing you and hope to have you around next year. all my best, nicholas galitzine

for taylor @therestayzakhar - long distance pillow, face creams, picnic kit, diy chocolate, bucklist travel book, desert subscription service

for hendery @hvnderys - mug & cookies & hot chocolate bomb, ramen bowl, british treats, hedgehog succulent pot, bread coasters

for soobin @socbins - drink openers, crystal growing lab, coca cola ornament, necklace, coffee mug

for lucy @hale-raiser - glowing gummy bears, t-shirt, crystal advent calender, british treats, fish rod but for campfire cooking

for joey @joeykvng - snoop dog cookbook, movie night kit, bracelet, a pair of socks

for joel @joelcourtncy - bread coasters, poster, lazy af throw blanket, tiny hands, hype button

for flo @florenvcepugh - kermi mug, icee maker, drinking card game, bluetooth banana phone, misfortune cookies

for miley @milcycyrus - keychain you can add pictures of nova and you know, personalized plate to honour your and awsten's anniversary, non-alcholic drink, christmas gift box

for vanessa @queenvh - candle holders, sleep mask, bluetooth karaoke mic, coffee mug, murder mystery puzzle & game

for sarah @hf-sarahhyland - gourmet milk & dark chocolate, at home facial, hammock chair, wine preservation, self cleaning water bottle

for sabrina @carpenterbrinas - tiktok based light, desk orgainzer, birthstone bracelet, smores in a jar, flowers subscription

for maxence @famemaxence - shirt, the secret box, homemade gin kit, luxury robes, shakespare insults mugs

for louis @lw-tomlinson - harry potter light, cocktail kit, monster cookies in a jar (recipe on the jar), bracelet of your favourite sports team, retro mini fridge

saying their friends, if that's cool, through taylor aka his birthday twin of course

for tom @tcmhcll - harry potter hat, a way to help you find your keys and wallet, custom connect four, grilled cheese toaster, hot cocoa in a jar

for nat @thatnattyice - pajama set (got you two sets for during and after your pregnancy), necklace, non-alcholic wine, personalized kids apron, kids & todders toys subscription

for bruna @brunamrqzn - lamp, personal smoothie maker, electric smores maker, perfume, best scented candles

for taylor @tylrswfts - a way to lounge in the tub, personalized initials bracelet, embroidered bookmarker, remote control string lights, compliment pencils

for kaia @kaia-gerbcr - british treats, custom mug set for you and austin, warm comforter, 100 scratch off date ideas, peppermint pappering

for carrie @carrieunderwccd - win holder, wine glasses, rainbow wall hanging, essential oil diffuser

for lily @lilyjxmes - cookies, a heat changing mug, flower clock, snow cone maker, vegas gift basket

#gifts; tba #gifts; giving a piece of my heart to you #friends; the best of the best with friends til the end #[ see any repeat gifts.. no you didn't as this was a lot to do ]

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searchingforgravity · 1 year

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The New Maid - PART 1 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You have just moved to Memphis, Tennessee as a young woman wanting to gain independence in her life. You land a job as a maid at Graceland after searching for a way to make ends meet. You have ambitions, but aren't sure which direction to go. You feel as if everything is about to change, and not just in your career. (Fem!Reader)

TW: None (in this chapter, smut is to come)

Rating: PG

Word count: 1380

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first fanfic that I'm posting ever so I hope you like it! There's no smut in this chapter but fear not, there will be much smut to come along with varying degrees of violence just for the record. This chapter is a bit short, but the next one will be extra juicy to make up for it. Well, that's all I've got for now and I hope you come on this journey with me! I imagined Elvis for this fanfic, but Austin!Elvis could work as well! Happy reading!

"So, you’re here for the cleaning position?” Dee Presley questions with a raised eyebrow. You are a 24 year old young woman, and to be blunt, you did not look like the usual candidate for this position. But you were new to Memphis, and your family was miles away. You needed to start somewhere, and the pay was extremely good. You would would be working for Elvis Presley, after all. But you knew it would be a bargain interviewing for this job. So you put on a friendly smile and responded as best you could. “Yes ma’am. I know I’m young and may not seem as experienced as people that have worked for you in the past, but I’m very hard working. I have been working in the cleaning service since the age of 13, and I know that my skills can meet your expectations.” She seems to ease up the slightest bit when hearing about your years of experience. But her demeanor just as quickly returns to it’s cold exterior. “Do you have references?” Her mouth set in an unpleasant look. You will yourself to keep your confidence. “Yes ma’am, I have three references,” you say short and sweet, sliding over a paper with the listed names and numbers. She nods approvingly. “Well miss (y/l/n), I wouldn’t usually consider someone as young as you, but your resume is rather impressive. I will call these references of yours.” She stops and contemplates for a moment. “Maybe having a pretty thing like you around, my step-son will taking an interest in cleaning up after himself,” then she looks you square in the eye, “But don’t you get any funny ideas, missy. I will not have my stepson entertaining himself with the help.” This felt like a slap to the face. Of course you idealized Elvis, but you hardly imagined you would see him nearly enough to even dream about being close and personal. “Of course not ma’am. I’m very professional,” is all you respond with. She doesn’t bother to answer, instead saying “I will call you this evening to let you know if you have the job. If I choose you, You’ll start tomorrow at 5:00a.m.” then she stands up, signaling for you to leave. “Thank you ma’am,” you say and walk out the door.

After walking outside, you finally allow yourself to feel some excitement. You would be working in Graceland for God’s sake. The home where Elvis frequented often. Of course, you weren’t expecting to see him much at all because most of his spare time was spent with his Memphis Mafia; a group of his friends that stayed around quite often. On top of that, you weren’t one hundred percent sure that Dee Presley would even hire you. You had a feeling that you would have to put in an intense amount of effort to be cordial around her. You walk to the small motel you were staying at just down the road and flopped down on the dusty bed after your shower, waiting with bated breath by the phone. And finally, after what seems like days, the phone rings. you jump up and grab the phone on the second ring. “Hello?” You say as calm as you can manage. “Hello miss (y/l/n), this is Dee Presley. Congratulations, you start tomorrow at 5 a.m. If you are so much as one minute late, don’t bother showing up. We can replace you in less than a second.” And without another word the line was disconnected. You would be irritated if it weren’t for your great excitement at getting a secure job. You hung up the phone and ran to your bed, jumping and lying on it like a school girl. You can’t contain the laughter that escapes your lips as you cover your face with your hands in disbelief. Your luck was finally turning around, after months of trying to find a job and living off of what little money your parents could afford to give you. You decide you’ll call them tomorrow after your shift to tell them the good news.Your mother and father were very disappointed that you hadn't gotten married, but they would never tell you that. They loved you too much and wanted you to live the life you wanted for yourself. You had even gotten a proposal from a very nice boy you went to school with, you just didn’t love him. And you absolutely would not settle for someone you didn’t love, it just wasn’t in you to limit yourself. And if you were being quite honest, you didn’t want to be married, not yet at least. You wanted time to be independent, no matter how controversial it was in today’s society. You push your thoughts away as you look at the clock. 6:47p.m. You decide you better eat and try to sleep soon, even though you would be getting barely any sleep tonight. Your life is about to change forever. little do you know just how much it is going to change. Some for the better, and some for the worse.

You wake up the next morning to the sound of your alarm clock. You look over, 3:00a.m. You fell asleep at 1:00a.m. which means you got a whole 2 hours of sleep last night. Great. You always were cranky in the morning. You step out of bed and slipped into a pair of slippers you brought from home. It was the beginning of November, so it was especially cold this morning, and the heating didn’t work so well in this cheap motel. You make yourself some instant coffee and start getting ready for your first day of work. You smile to yourself as you look in the dingy mirror. Everything is about to change. You were excited and a little nervous for what is to come.

When you walk up the steps to Graceland, you barley have time to reach your hand to knock on the door when it swings open, letting out the most delicious smells of cooking food, along with a warmth that makes you want to wrap up in a blanket, and read a book while sipping on some tea. You are pulled out of your thoughts when you see the look on Dee Presley’s face. It was urgent. “Good, you’re here early. We have unexpected visitors coming at noon today, so you’ll need to put your ‘skills’ to work," making sure to put a hint of sarcasm in the word ‘skills’. Then she looks down at you, and a look of disgust paints over her face. “Dear heavens, what on Earth are you wearing? Where did you find that outfit, a department store?” You look down at your modest dress. It’s a faded pink, and a little worn over the years, but its form fitting and you thought it would be practical for the job. Apparently this is choice was a major offense.”This will never do. The staff has a uniform anyway that we will provide you. You can change in your quarters. Where is your bag?” You look at her blankly for a second. You had no idea you would be living here! She gives you an exasperated look, in realizing you weren’t aware of this. “Never mind with that for now, we’ll get your things later. Now hurry up and get inside, we don’t have time to spare!” You rush in and are stunned by the view. It is the grandest thing you have ever seen in your life. everything you looked as was pure art, from the chandelier in the dining area on your left, to the couch and chairs in the living area on your right. You don't have much time to look around as she leads you upstairs to your room. she grabs your uniform and tosses it on the bed. It shorter than the one you have on but still modest. You quickly change and prepare to be on your feet for the next few hours. You have a fleeting thought that Elvis could be one of the people Dee was expecting, and it made your stomach drop. But of course you wouldn't be introduced or probably even meet him beyond passing hellos. You were just the new maid, after all.

Masterlist

#elvis presley #austin!elvis fic #graceland #elvis imagine #elvis presley imagine #elvis the king #elvis 2022 #austin butler #elvis fanfiction

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that-one-anxious-mango · 2 years

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Hi!!! I love the days of our lives oneshots and how it pieces together the main puzzle!! It’s really really good and I really like your writing style! If you’re taking prompts for it can you do one where austin helps with your hair on wash day and spend time together talking about what’s been planned for the rest of the week?

Wash Day Whims

Summary: It’s wash day at the butler residence and you better believe Austin butler is involved.

Contents: Wash day Stuff! Shampoo. Product talk! Mad amounts of fluff. Little angst if you squint. Sleepy Magnus! Gooey Feelings.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Black! Reader

A/N: Hey guys! Arie here! To the person who requested this oh so long ago. Thank you so much for the love! I try my best and I really enjoy writing this series! Your words mean a lot! Also I am sorry lol I was trying to figure out the best way to write this and it accidentally started collecting dust in the drafts lol But hey we’re here now! So I hope you enjoy!

P.S I am still actively working on pushing out the drabble event things so bare with me. Comments are always encouraged as well as sending me letters with drabble and prompt ideas!

Much love! * Hugs*

�� _______

" The water's not too hot is it? " Austin questioned for what seemed like the hundredth time making you giggle. He was too cute sometimes.

" No Austin. The water is perfect. Thank you." You reassured reaching up to rub your man’s bare arm that was exposed due to his rolled up sleeves.

" Good. Now lean your head back for me, baby." Austin instructed softly cradling your head as you leaned your head back into the sink.

Doing as you were told you now closed your eyes and relaxed as Austin grabbed the TGIN moisture rich shampoo dropping some in his hands before going to work lathering up your hair.

You proceeded to coach him on how hard to scrub in some areas to get the gunk out and what areas he had to be especially careful with to avoid any bruises or tugging while he handled your springy coils.

All in all, it was a good experience. You loved the way he was in no rush and took his time with you. You couldn't help how ever so often you would let out the tiniest breathy moan or wiggle around a little bit at how good his hands felt on you.

They always felt good on you.

Especially in other places.

Austin couldn't lie and say he wasn't purposely scrubbing and massaging your head certain ways to provoke these sounds that was music to his ears. He enjoyed being with you like this. Taking care of you.

The intimacy of this act of service like this was what both of you loved.

He knew that his baby definitely didn’t just let anyone play in her head. So the fact that you were allowing him to do this silently told him how much you trusted him.

He loved that.

After washing twice and rinsing twice. Austin shut off the water helping slowly guide you up while wrapping a soft microfiber towel around your head, making sure to wipe any stray specks if water off your lovely face.

Once you were all the way upright, you got out of the chair grabbing your honey manuka hair mask and going over to your side of the his and hers sink.

Taking off your towel you proceeded to section your damp hair into four parts ( of course with Austin helping you straighten and clean up the parts with your rat-tail comb) You attempted to apply a even amount ( it wasn't) of the hair mask to your hair while gently detangling along the way.

Situating yourself and popping on your deep conditioning cap you set the timer for thirty minutes and decided to venture into the bedroom to find Austin lying flat on his back with a content magnus perched on his stomach listening to unreleased Elvis tracks.

Walking over you tapped his leg grabbing his attention, " Baby?"

" Yeah, Mama? " He answered turning his attention to you.

" Do you maybe wanna...maybe....i dunno....order in some Celia's and watch Ozark." You sheepishly suggested putting a innocent smile on your face and swaying back and forth.

You knew in prep for Dune there were certain things Austin wasn't allowed to eat which included the glorious taste of the flavorful birria tacos from a little family owned shop around the way.

Popping his head up quirking a eyebrow to shoot you a knowing look, you did your best to keep us this sweet seduction you had going. You reached a hand out rubbing his leg in a soft way to match the cute pout you had going.

Groaning he smirked running a hand over his face.

This woman will be the death of me...but what a beautiful way to go. He thought.

Sighing he reluctantly agreed, " Of course babe...You already know I can’t say no to that face. Grab my phone honey so I make the order." He confirmed watching you giddily jumping up and down.

Anything to see his best girl happy.

Happily handing him the phone you left to go rinse your hair as he dialed the number of the taco house.

Upon thoroughly rinsing out the mask, you applied nice amounts of Shea moisture JBCO leave in conditioner, Jojoba oil, and Mielle Hawaiian ginger hair butter. You flat twisted twelve twists into your head for the twist out you had planned for this week.

And letting his scary accurate intuition kick in, on queue to you picking up the hair oil to oil your scalp Austin's voice bellowed from the bedroom, " You got to the part where your oiling your scalp yet? "

Grinning you responded, " Yeah babe I am. I got it."

Which you didn't know why you even replied because you knew he'd whine back a , " NO! Bring it in here so I can do it please, baby." He called back.

Knowing better than to argue with your man you gathered the needed items and entered the bedroom to a already, ready Austin who had a throw pillow set up on the floor for you to sit on in-between his legs.

Not wasting anytime you plopped down handing him the oil before letting him do his thing.

You both sat in comfortable silence for a minute until a curious question popped in your head, " So what do you have planned up for this week, honey? " You inquired.

Slathering his fingertips in oil he went on to say ," Well, tommorow Monday Baz has me heading to the studio to do some vocal corrections on that's all right and hound dog so I might be late coming home depending on how late he decides to keep all of us. Then Tuesday and Wednesday are going to be press days so interviews with E!, Mojo and all them guys. Thursday I'll be having a meeting with Ian and the team about things for Dune 2 and some other offers that have come in." He listed letting his hands slip into your now clean parted head gently using his fingertips to massage your scalp while being careful not to pull or snag anything loose.

" Mmhmm. You mumbled leaning your head back, eyes shut as you soaked in the feeling you were getting. It felt so good.

Smiling at your face he continued, " And then.....on Friday I have dinner plans that more than likely will run later into the night... sweetheart. He finished.

Upon hearing his last statement you couldn't help the way your eyebrows bunched to accompany the frown that took on your face.

Dinner Plans?

On Friday?

Friday is date night.

Austin could feel your body tense up against him a little bit. He already could practically hear the wheels starting to turn in your head. So he opted to keep massaging.

At the start of your relationship you and Austin had hit some bumps in the road about time management and how often you guys were seeing each other. It was really bothering you both to not be together as consistently as you wanted to.

So you two came up with age old idea of Friday date night. A time where no matter if you guys were a whole ocean apart on facetime watching a movie together, dressing up and going to try some new restaurant, or even just staying in tangled up together while someone read to the other. Friday was your guy's night and usually nothing ever came between that.

Ever.

" Oh sounds like your super busy, babe." You whispered out wrapping your arms around yourself a bit.

He sighed noticing, " Yeah it's a jam packed week, honey. So that's why it'll all be worth getting through it to have dinner with you Friday night and then go back to my place to have some...dessert." Austin teased causing a heavy sigh to escape you as you hit him on his knee only encouraging his laughter to get louder.

" Austin don't do that! You had me thinking you had up and abandoned our date-night to have dinner with god knows who, you pointy eared elf. " You insulted never letting him forget his Shannara chronicles days.

Craning his head down laughing he assaulted your cheek and neck with kisses mumbling a " sorry." and a " You know Friday is all about me and my best girl, baby. Always." he affirmed.

And then there it was that gooey feeling that made your cheeks hurt and turned your stomach into a butterfly garden.

This man. That’s it. That’s the thought.

Reaching your hands up to cup his face and bring his lips to yours in a spiderman type kiss, you claimed his lips lovingly before pulling away and saying, " Yeah they are. And they better stay that way buddy."

#austin butler x black! reader #austin butler x reader #mangoasks #austin butler #dayofourloves #austin butler x black reader

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nikkeisimmer · 11 months

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Homeless in Hylewood

Prologue

Welcome to Hylewood, it’s a wonderful little town set on an island, out of the way of the urban rush, and great for people to get away from it all...

…but not when you’re the first group of people to ever set foot in this place.

After putting in their twenty in the service of the people of the United States of America, this little group decided to uproot everything they knew and head for the hills…er…island. This cute little island off the coast.

Captain Harmon Rabb Jr., United States Navy, former aviator and judge advocate decided to pool his money with his old RAG buddy, Admiral Tosh “Animal” Nakamura who even at his advanced age; he’d completed thirty years in the Navy and was still single, was still a strapping individual and muscular.

Animal’s former XO, now with eagles herself, Captain Kimberly-Anne “Jugs” Benton had also retired after serving her twenty and pitched in her investment money.

Harm had gotten his best friend, Mac to join in with some of her money and after not having heard from one Meg Austin for quite some time, she had popped back up, asking after Tosh and his whereabouts. Harm’d let her in on their little venture with a bit of a discount on her cut – she was a friend after all…and a friend in need… Needless to say, Mac was not pleased. But then again, when was that Marine ever pleased about anything?

Well, evidently, they got smoked…good. Because all the talk about cabins from the owner vanished once he’d gotten a hold of the money. He’d signed over the deed by himself at the city hall and sent the papers over by courier…

…and promptly amscrayed to the Bahamas presumably, which meant that they were completely pee out of luck. They had a property…and no cabins. Needless to say, it was a big property and one that could potentially be developed, but unfortunately, as far as they were concerned, they were out in the cold (quite possibly wet and miserable too, if there was an itinerant hurricane).

And then to top it all off…the Navy carked up the disbursement of their retirement pay. So…now on top of being homeless…now they were broke at least until their disbursement of their initial retirement pay came in – goodness knows when that will be.

And then, guess who shows up but their resident favorite pain-in-the-posterior-end, Lieutenant Commander Phil “Metalman” Burrows.

After hearing that his favorite CO and unrequited love interest Kimber had retired, he’d tossed in his hat too, since he’d completed his twenty in 2010 and decided to head out to the last known locale that he’d known her to be and was told that she had gone to the “island”. After carefully putting two and two together, he’d come to the conclusion that her parents were talking about Hylewood so he hired a boat and asked the driver to take him out here.

“Looks like a bloody campground.” was Animal’s first assessment of the location once their tents were pitched and a place to excrete was dug out and a rock-shower was implemented so that they could at least keep clean for however long it would take in order to get some sort of finances straightened so that they could build something on this lot.

Things couldn’t be worse…Harm thought to himself, tempting fate to give them another one-two combination. Of course he was interrupted in his train of thought by a jingle.

Oh goody, a food truck that we can’t afford to eat from and it decided to park right across from us. This was going to be torture.

How exactly were the six going to eat with absolutely no money? At least there were some apple trees on the property, thanks to a magnanimous Watcher. And Lieutenant Colonel Sarah “Mac” Mackenzie decided to head over and harvest the apples to distribute amongst the six. When she was done, she came back over and started distributing the apples to the rest of the group. “Admiral, I’d suggest saving those apples until later on in the day to eat.”

“Good idea, Colonel.” Animal replied. “You heard the Colonel…” he raised his voice to the rest of the group. He’d interrupted Phil who was in the middle of taking a bite. The lunatic never bothered listening anyways. Now he was overstuffed and out of an apple. He was going to be ravenously hungry in the morning because he wasn’t getting another one.

Animal suggested that since they were surrounded by water, that perhaps now might be the time to learn to fish. Taking the admiral’s suggestion as an order, the other five decided to head down to the beach and start casting their lines into the water. The admiral had come down following them.

He idly picked an azalea flower and then went off by himself to toss a line in the water.

Harm’s eyes followed him. His friend, being of flag rank, kept to himself most of the time and even when retired, Animal tended to carry himself with a military bearing, meaning that fraternizing with non-flag-ranks were strictly metered – he simply refused to be a part of the regular group.

Meg, on the other hand, thought that it was sad that Animal seemed to think that the rules of the Uniform Code of Military Justice and its rules regarding fraternization still applied to him and to his interactions with his friends. Kimber or Jugs as she was called by the aviator community, also agreed with her assessment. And even though Meg was suspicious of Kimber and her ties to the admiral, she was certain that Kimber worried about her former CO as well.

(Prologue to be continued)

#JAG-Sims3 Homeless in Hylewood #Nilxis Worlds #Hylewood #Sims 3 #JAG TV Show #JAG Fanfiction #ts3 story #sims 3 gameplay #ts3 #sims 3 storytelling #ts3 scenery #ts3 screenshots #ts3 simblr #ts3 stories #ts3 storytelling #ts3 simmer #jag

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texasobserver · 11 months

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”200,000 Steps on the Lone Star Hiking Trail” by Sergio Chapa, from the May/June 2023 issue of Texas Observer magazine:

I grew up in northwest Austin at the edge of the Texas Hill Country, where hiking through the woods and playing in creeks were daily activities. So, I’ve always been an “outdoors person.” After moving to Houston for a journalism job, I quickly began running and biking along the city’s mostly concrete-lined bayous. Then an environmental activist told me something intriguing: Just an hour north of the traffic and skyscrapers of downtown Houston is the 96-mile Lone Star Hiking Trail, the longest footpath in Texas.

During April 2020, I began a quest to hike the full trail along with a friend in my “COVID bubble.” It was a sunny and unseasonably hot day as we embarked from mile marker zero inside the 163,000-acre Sam Houston National Forest. So early in the pandemic, we hiked without seeing another person, hearing a car on the road, or spotting an airplane in the sky. The only sounds were chirping birds, squirrels and lizards scurrying, and the wind blowing through the leaves.

It was a Coronavirus-safe activity and I was hooked.

On maps, the national forest is depicted as a massive patch of public land. But on the ground, hundreds of U.S. Forest Service tracts are broken up by private timberlands, farms and ranches, and a growing number of rural homes and subdivisions. Mostly flat to rolling terrain, the forest is laced with creeks as well as the east and west forks of the San Jacinto River and the not-so-scenic lanes of Interstate 45.

Starting near Richards and ending near Cleveland, the Lone Star Hiking Trail proper is 96 miles through the forest with five optional loops adding another 32 miles. Depending on one’s height and weight, that’s roughly 200,000 steps. Given a pace of about three miles per hour, it would take roughly 32 hours to hike the entire trail nonstop. Hiking about eight hours per day means less than a week of hiking and camping.

But that’s not the path I chose.

It took me sixteen trips with various friends over two years to hike the entire trail. Confession: We weren’t disciplined about it; sometimes weeks or months lapsed between forays. Most often, I’d park my car at one of the 15 trailheads and we’d hike for five or six miles and then head back. On every visit, the trail provided valuable relief with its clean air, social distancing, and an escape from the four-wall confinement of lockdown and stress. Our slower approach allowed us to experience the forest in all four seasons.

Spring is marked by fresh light green leaves, wildflowers and white color pops of dogwood and magnolia blossoms. The summer can be brutally hot, but it’s the best time to enjoy Lake Conroe or Double Lake. The fall brings orange, red, and yellow hues as purple beautyberries and red yaupon holly berries ripen in the understory. Pine trees and oaks stay green during winter while colonies of colorful mushrooms and fungus sprout on the forest floor.

I shared our hikes on Twitter and Instagram, and the Lone Star Hiking Trail became a hit with my social media followers too.

It’s much easier to hike the trail virtually. To do it in person, you need plenty of water, snacks, insect repellent, spare socks, powder, paper towels and wipes, and willingness to rough it, since there are no bathrooms or vending machines aside from spartan amenities at the Stubblefield and Double Lake campgrounds. Good walking shoes and long pants with high socks reduce risks of scratches, bug bites and ticks. Snakes on this trail mostly flee from people. However, mosquitoes and spiders are fearless.

Early morning hikes meant the person in the lead breaks overnight cobwebs. Scat with fur signaled coyotes and bobcats, but the most worrisome signs were the wallows and rooting of feral pigs. My worst fear was encountering hogs, which can attack when frightened or startled. Luckily, we never saw any.

Sam Houston is one of the state’s four national forests created by Congress during the Great Depression. The timber industry previously clear-cut large swaths of the Piney Woods. State lawmakers bought hundreds of barren tracts in 1933, with the intent of adding them to the national forest system. President Franklin D. Roosevelt proclaimed Angelina, Davy Crockett, Sabine, and Sam Houston national forests in October 1936. Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corps planted millions of trees. The U.S. Forest Service gave the Lone Star Chapter of the Sierra Club permission to build the trail in 1967. The trail and all its loops were complete by 1978.

It’s big enough that you can easily get lost. I’m an experienced outdoorsman, but we’ve gotten lost on the Lone Star Hiking Trail, marked by small reflective markers nailed into the trunks of trees. It’s easy to lose track of the markers after leaving U.S. Forest Service land and walking down a rural road to the next section. Cell-phone service can be spotty, so it’s best to download Lone Star Hiking Trail Club maps in advance.

But not all of this wilderness is protected. Legally distinct from national parks and refuges, national forests can be used for hunting, fishing, timber, grazing, mining, oil, and natural gas. By law, the U.S. Forest Service must manage Sam Houston with no single resource emphasized over others. To that point, the 163,000 acres also include trails for ATVs, mountain bikes, and horses. Lakes are stocked with bluegill, largemouth bass, and catfish. Oil wells and easements for pipelines and power lines are common.

Historically, wildfires kept the forest from getting too dense and unhealthy. Today, the U.S. Forest Service uses controlled burns and sustainable timber harvesting in efforts to control a pest known as the southern pine beetle and improve habitat for the red-cockaded woodpecker, an endangered species that favors open “pine savannas” and nests from April to June. Over the decades, environmentalists and forest managers have sparred in court over forestry practices related to the beetle and woodpecker.

I looked for those woodpeckers, but only heard their distinctive high-pitched chirps and tap tap-tapping hidden in the canopy.

Sprawl and suburbanization are the biggest threat to the forest and to this trail. I-45, the busy thoroughfare connecting Houston and Dallas, divides it in two, creating a formidable barrier for wildlife and people. The Texas Department of Transportation spent millions improving a 15-mile stretch of highway between Huntsville and New Waverly but spent little on allowing hikers or wildlife to cross safely under the roadway where cars speed past a white 67-foot statue of Texas founding father Sam Houston.

I wish the Texas legislature would use some of its $32.7 billion budget surplus to create a buffer for this trail—and improve the crossings that either don’t exist or have been damaged and make a through-hike so challenging. Unfortunately, this year has seen news in the opposite direction: The state recently lost a lovely park further north on the I-45 corridor that offered its own woodland paths.

In theory, animals can use the narrow corridor where Big Chinquapin Creek goes under the highway, but hikers must trudge four miles along three rural roadways and the I-45 frontage road in order to reach the next trail section.

Country-club communities such as Elkins Lake and the Texas Grand Ranch subdivision with its two- to five-acre lots allow people to live at the edge of the forest. As an unintended result, nonnative ornamental plants are escaping into the wild and becoming invasive species. The average person may not notice, but I kept spotting exotic plants like nandina, wax-leaf ligustrum, Chinese tallow, chinaberry, bamboo, and hardy orange all along the trail.

Volunteers with the Lone Star Hiking Club and the Houston area Sierra Club maintain the trail and try to clear out invaders. I’d love to give back and join them one day.

But it’s a big job—and progress is often slow.

A vehicle bridge to the Stubblefield Campground washed out during Hurricane Harvey in August 2017 but was not rebuilt until 2022. A footbridge over scenic and shaded bluffs of the east fork of the San Jacinto River in the Magnolia section of the trail was destroyed more than eight years ago and never replaced.

Hikers are forced to take a complex detour, though I opted to park my car at the next trailhead and walk to the opposite bank.

Even as the pandemic fades, I’m still going back for more, particularly to hike the loops outside the main trail. To me, this escape seems even more valuable with Houston growing at a pace that will see it overtake Chicago as the third-largest U.S. city. Even as the metropolitan area expands in all directions, the forest still offers respite.

#hiking #east texas #Houston #nature #outdoors

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