☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

She started shifting in her seat, her brow furrowing in frustration. “Are we there yet?” she asked, her voice starting to edge with impatience.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Austin replied gently, his eyes still focused on the road. “We’ve got a little while to go, but we’re getting closer.”

Ella sighed dramatically, slumping back. “I’m bored,” she whined, kicking her legs against her car seat. “And my butt hurts!”

You glanced back at her with a sympathetic smile. “I know, honey, long drives can be tough,” you said soothingly. “How about we play a game? I spy with my little eye… something green!”

Her eyes lit up for a moment, and she looked out the window eagerly. “Is it… a tree?” she guessed.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Good job, sweetie!” But after a few rounds, Ella’s enthusiasm started to fade again. She shifted restlessly, her face scrunched up in discomfort.

“Mama, I’m tired,” she whined, her voice a bit tremulous now. “I don’t like this anymore. I want to get out!”

You and Austin exchanged a glance, knowing what was about to come. “I know, baby,” Austin said in his calm, soothing voice. “I know it’s hard to sit for so long, but we’re going to have so much fun when we get there, right?”

Ella didn’t seem convinced. She started to squirm around in her seat, her buckle tightened over her chest, only adding to the frustration, and a few moments later, the whining turned into soft crying, her little face scrunched up as tears began to roll down her cheeks. “I want out, Daddy!” she sobbed. “Please, I want to get out!”

You turned in your seat as much as she could, reaching your hand back to your daughter. “Oh, Ella, I know it’s hard, baby,” you murmured softly. “Here, let me help you feel more comfortable.” You gently draped a soft blanket over her legs and carefully removed her shoes. “There, sweetheart. Just rest a little bit, okay? We’re almost there.”

Ella continued to cry softly, but she clung to your hand, finding some comfort in her mother’s touch. You kept your hand there, softly stroking Ella’s tiny fingers while humming a calming tune. “Close your eyes, sweet girl,” you whispered. “Just rest for a bit.”

Gradually, Ella’s cries turned into soft sniffles, and then, as the steady rhythm of the car and the warmth of the blanket took over, her eyes fluttered closed. Her little chest rose and fell with steady breaths as she finally drifted off to sleep.

Austin glanced over at you, a gentle smile on his face. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice filled with admiration.

You smiled back. “It’s a joint effort,” you replied softly, continuing to hold Ella’s hand until you were sure your daughter was deep asleep.

After a couple of hours, just as you were about twenty minutes away from the cabin, Ella began to stir.

She blinked her eyes open, her small face creasing with a yawn. She sat up slowly, looking around in confusion before realizing where she was. “Mama?” she mumbled sleepily.

You turned around, smiling warmly. “Hey, sleepyhead. Did you have a good nap?”

Ella nodded, rubbing her eyes with her fists. “I think so,” she murmured.

Austin looked at her in the rearview mirror, smiling. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Good,” she replied, still groggy. Then, her eyes widened, and she pointed out the window. “Look, Daddy! A deer!” she exclaimed, her earlier excitement returning.

Austin glanced in the direction she was pointing. Sure enough, a deer stood just off the side of the road, watching them with curious eyes. “Good spotting, El!” he said, grinning. “We’re almost there, sweetheart. Just a little longer.”

Ella perked up at this news. “Really? How much longer?”

“About twenty minutes,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder with a reassuring smile. “And then we’ll be at the cabin, and you can stretch your legs and run around all you want.”

Ella’s face lit up with a smile. “Okay! I can wait twenty minutes,” she declared, sitting up straighter in her seat.

You continued down the winding forest roads, the scenery changing from thick clusters of trees to the sparkling surface of the lake as you drew nearer. When you finally pulled up to the cabin, nestled among the trees with a clear view of the water, Ella’s excitement returned in full force.

“We’re here! We’re here!” she squealed, bouncing in her seat.

Austin chuckled, pulling the car into the driveway and putting it in park. “Alright, we made it!” he announced, turning to look at you and Ella.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned around to Ella. “Okay, El, let’s get you out,” you said, opening your door and stepping out. You came around to the back, opening her door and carefully helping her out of her seat.

Ella jumped down, stretching her arms wide. “Yay! We’re here!” she cheered, looking up at the tall trees around them.

Austin smiled as he stepped out of the car, stretching his back before heading to the trunk to grab the bags. “I’ll get everything,” he called over his shoulder. “You two go inside.”

You took Ella’s hand, guiding her toward the front door. Ella nodded eagerly, squeezing your hand. “Mommy! Can we go down to the water?”

“Of course, sweetheart. We’ll do that as soon as we get settled in,” you replied, giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head.

Austin was making trips between the car and the house, his strong arms loaded with your things, dropping everything off in the doorway. Ella giggled, running up to him and wrapping her arms around his legs.

Austin smiled, handing Ella her swimsuit, “if you ask mama nicely, she might help you get changed so you can get into the water.”

Ella looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, “Please mama? Please?”

Elvis, sitting on his stool, was in charge of locking up the studio for the night and returning the keys to the studio manager. His duties kept him waiting, watching as the others gathered their things. You stood close to him, in between his legs, leaning against one of his thighs, feeling the warmth of his presence. His hand rested around your waist, a gentle and familiar weight that made you feel safe and wanted.

The two of you shared a quiet moment, simply observing the room as it slowly cleared. Elvis’ fingers began to trace soft circles on your waist, a subconscious habit he'd developed when you were close. Then, with a gentle pat on your side, he signaled you to turn toward him. You looked into his eyes, seeing that familiar spark, and leaned down to kiss him.

The noise of the packing up, the sound of cars outside, all of it blurred away as your lips met his. The kiss was unhurried and gentle.

But just as you were losing yourself into him, the door swung open, and a voice suddenly resonated through the quiet of the studio. “Hey Elvis, I just left my—” The voice stopped abruptly.

Recognising who, you broke the kiss, your heart skipping a beat as you both turned to face the direction of the door. Scotty stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide, staring at the two of you.

Elvis kept his arm around you, his grip tightening slightly as if to protect you from whatever conversation was about to unfold. Elvis cleared his throat.

“Scotty—” He began, his voice steady but with a hint of tension.

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” Scotty interrupted, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You blinked, surprised. “You…?”

Scotty nodded. “I’m not blind, you know. Like when you tell me you’re with the band,” Scotty said, looking and Elvis before directing his gaze at you, “and you tell me you’re with the girls, but I’m with them both, and you’re the only two nowhere to be seen.”

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Scotty, I’m sorry. We just didn’t want to cause any trouble.”

Scotty shook his head, stepping further into the room. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, the tension that had been building for weeks finally beginning to dissipate. “So…you’re not mad?”

Scotty shrugged. “I ain’t thrilled about the sneakin’ around part, but no, I’m not mad. Just…be good to each other, alright? I can’t wind up pickin’ sides.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, the anxiety that had been building up over the past few weeks finally dissolving. “Thank you, Scotty,” you admitted, your voice soft.

Elvis’ arm tightened around you, pulling you closer as he looked at Scotty. Scotty quickly grabbed the guitar strap he had accidentally left draped on the back of a chair before nodding, his smile widening as he stepped back toward the door. “Alright, well, now you know I know. Keep her as long as you like, Elvis, she has a key.”

With that, Scotty turned and walked out of the studio, leaving the two of you alone once more. The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, you and Elvis just stood there, absorbing what had just happened.

Elvis finally broke the silence, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he looked into your eyes. “Well, I guess we’re good,” he said with a playful smile.

You laughed softly, feeling lighter than you had in days. “Feels kinda nice not having to hide anymore.”

Elvis leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, it does.” His voice was warm, filled with affection as he held you close.

The room was quiet now, everyone else had left, and it was just the two of you in the dimly lit studio.

“You wanna knock off?” He asked.

“Can you play just one more?”

Elvis’s eyes softened at your request, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “Alright, just one,” he murmured, his voice warm and low.

You followed him to the piano. He sat down on the bench, patting the space beside him, encouraging you to sit next to him. You slid onto the bench, feeling the coolness of the polished wood under your thighs.

“What song?” he asked, his fingers hovering over the keys, his eyes meeting yours with that familiar twinkle.

“Surprise me,” you replied softly, a smile playing on your lips.

He chuckled, “Alright then.”

His fingers beginning to dance lightly over the keys, testing out a few chords. After a moment, he settled into a tune, one you recognized instantly— “Earth Angel.”

As he played, he leaned in closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, and began to sing, his voice low and tender. Every word seemed to be meant just for you, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell. You watched his hands move across the keys, the way his fingers pressed with such precision and grace, entirely effortlessly. The secrecy, the sneaking around, it had all been worth it just for this moment, watching him pour his heart into the music. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming happiness of being there with him.

Elvis must have noticed because he slowed down his playing just a bit, his voice growing even softer, more intimate. He finished the song with a gentle flourish, letting the last note linger in the air for a long moment.

He turned to you, a small crease of concern appearing between his brows as he reached out, brushing his thumb across your cheek to wipe away a stray tear. “Why the tears, honey?” he asked, his voice soft and soothing.

You sniffled, letting out a soft, embarrassed laugh. “I’m just happy,” you whispered.

His expression softened. “Me too, darlin’,” he whispered against your hair.

After a while, Elvis pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face. “I’m glad Scotty knows,” he murmured. “We don’t have to pretend anymore.”

You nodded, a smile breaking across your face. “I’ve wanted that for a while,” you admitted.

He grinned, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Well, now we’ve got it,” he whispered against your mouth.

You kissed him back, your hands slipping around his neck as you melted into him, savoring the feel of his lips against yours. When you finally pulled away, you felt breathless, your heart racing.

“What do you say we get outta here?” he whispered.

Again, you pressed, seeing if he’d play back. You felt his hand catch your ankle, the warmth of it startling you for a split second before he began to draw soft, teasing traces over your skin. Your breath hitched, almost gasping at how intimate it felt. You quickly looked up at Danny, expecting to see a smirk, a hint of recognition in his eyes. But instead, you watched him bring both hands to the table, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers. Confusion clouded your head. Danny's hands were both clearly visible as he listened to someone's story.

You felt your stomach do a small flip as your gaze slid sideways, to the person sitting right next to Danny.

Elvis.

He was lounging back in his chair, his eyes half-lidded as he listened to the conversation, his expression unreadable, with one hand resting on his lap. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. But then, as if sensing your gaze, he looked over at you, his eyes locking with yours.

Realisation hit you slowly. It wasn’t Danny at all. It was Elvis. And with that realisation came another—maybe, just maybe, you liked it better this way.

He watched you, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that made your cheeks burn. There was something in his eyes, something that told you he knew exactly what was going on. He broke contact with your skin, bringing both of his hands back to visibility.

As you sat there, trying to compose yourself, one of your girlfriends turned and gave you a concerned look. She’d always been good at picking up on your moods, and tonight was no exception. With a gentle hand, she pressed the back of her fingers against your cheek, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked, her tone laced with worry. “You’re burning up.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden attention. “No, no, I’m fine,” you stammered, trying to wave off her concern. Elvis’ was watching you still, and he seemed rather amused at the way he was flustering you.

Your friend wasn’t convinced. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile as she eyed you. “Come on,” she said, her voice taking on a more playful tone. “Let me fix ya up.”

Before you could protest, she took your hand and gently pulled you up from your chair.

Elvis was leaning back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with merriment. There was a smirk playing on his lips, a look that told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

She guided you down a narrow hallway, past the hum of the restaurant’s main room, until the two of you reached the small, dimly lit bathroom.

Once inside, she turned to you with a mischievous grin, shutting the door behind her. “Alright,” she said, her tone light and teasing. “Let’s see what’s going on with you. You’re all flushed.”

You tried to play it off, shrugging and giving her a sheepish smile. “I guess it’s just a bit warm in there,” you said, but you knew she wasn’t buying it. She always had a knack for seeing right through you.

“Mhm,” she hummed, reaching into her purse and pulling out a compact and a powder brush. “Or maybe it’s something else entirely?” she teased, giving you a knowing look as she dabbed the brush into the powder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, though the words felt weak even as you said them.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she gently powdered your face, freshening up your makeup.

“There,” she said finally, stepping back to admire her work. “Good as new.”

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, noting how much calmer you looked, at least on the outside. Inside, though, you were still reeling slightly.

“Thanks,” you said, giving her a grateful smile.

“Anytime,” she said, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

The rest of the meal passed in a blur, your focus shifting entirely. Every time you glanced up, you found Elvis’ eyes on you, a silent conversation passing between you that no one else was privy to. By the time desserts came around, you were no longer thinking about Danny at all.

Everyone began to finish up and gather their things, making plans for what to do next. The group was splitting up, some heading out to another spot, others calling it a night. You were about to say your goodbyes when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Need a ride home?” Elvis asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure. But then you nodded, your decision made. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

He nodded goodbye to the other boys, holding the door open for you. The cool night air was a welcome relief as you stepped outside. It cleared your head. You glanced up at Elvis, who was walking beside you with an easy confidence.

He walked you over to a pink Cadillac. The interior was white, the whole thing looked brand new. You couldn’t quite believe it was his. Perhaps this whole music gig was more serious than you originally thought. He opened the passenger door for you, before he climbed in beside you, his presence warming the space as he started the engine.

The drive was quiet at first, with only the hum of the car and the soft sounds of the city filling the background. You glanced over at him, trying to gauge his thoughts, but his expression was relaxed, almost unreadable. After a few minutes, you realized you weren’t quite ready for the night to end.

“Elvis?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He glanced over at you, his eyes warm and attentive. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, a little nervous to suggest anything else. “What time is it?”

Elvis flicked his wrist slightly, checking his watch. “Just past nine,” he replied.

“It’s still early,” you said, the words coming out before you could think better of them.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he nodded, understanding your hint. “You wanna do somethin’ else?” he asked, his tone playful.

You nodded shyly, “Yeah.”

He grinned, turning the car onto a new street. “How ’bout the drive-in? There’s probably another picture showing soon. We could catch that.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as you spoke, “sounds perfect.”

The drive to the drive-in didn’t take long, just, just a few miles out of town. When you pulled up, the large screen was already glowing with the start of a movie, and rows of cars were parked in front of it, people getting cosy or sitting on the hoods of their cars to watch.

Elvis found a spot toward the back, away from the crowd, giving you both a little privacy. He turned off the engine, and you settled into your seat as the movie played on the screen in front of you. The cool breeze brushed over you, and you felt a comfortable closeness to him that hadn’t been there before.

You both watched the screen in silence for a while, the dialogue and music filling the air. But as the minutes passed, you felt his arm slide along the back of the seat behind your head, his fingers lightly brushing your shoulder. Your breath hitched, and when you glanced at him, he was already looking at you, his eyes soft and searching.

Without a word, you shifted closer to him, your body naturally leaning into his warmth. He welcomed you into his embrace, his arm wrapping around you more securely as you rested your head against his chest. It was an innocent enough move, but it sent your heart racing all the same.

The movie played on, but you were barely paying attention now. Instead, you focused on the steady beat of his heart under your ear, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. You felt safe, content, but there was also that undeniable spark of attraction.

At one point, he shifted slightly, his hand coming up to gently tilt your chin up so you could meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense, but there was a softness there too, something tender that made your chest tighten.

“You comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and gentle as his thumb traced soft circles on your upper arm.

You smiled, nodding, too nervous to speak.

His lips quirked up into a small smile, and he nodded. “Good.”

There was something in his eyes, something unspoken that made your breath catch.

“Elvis…” you started.

Then, slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing lightly over yours in a tentative, testing kiss. It was soft, almost hesitant.

You responded without thinking, your hand coming up to rest on his chest as you kissed him back, a little more firmly this time. He made a soft sound of approval in the back of his throat, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek as he deepened the kiss, his thumb gently brushing against your skin.

It was slow, sweet, but there was a heat beneath it, a promise of something more. When you finally pulled back, you could see the desire in his eyes, you were sure he could see it in yours too.

“I’ve been wantin’ to do that all night,” he admitted, his voice hushed.

You smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest. “So have I.”

The rest of the movie passed rather quickly, your focus entirely on him, the way his fingers intertwined with yours, the way he would occasionally press a soft kiss to your temple or the top of your head.

When the credits finally rolled, Elvis glanced over at you. “Guess I should get you home now, huh?”

You nodded, though part of you wished the night didn’t have to end. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He smiled, but there was a hint of reluctance in it. “Don’t worry, darlin’. This won’t be the last time.”

You nodded sheepishly. He gave you one last lingering look before turning the key in the ignition. The drive back to your place was quieter, both of you lost in your thoughts, but there was a new warmth between you now, a connection that hadn’t been there before.

When he pulled up to your house, he parked the car and turned to you, his eyes searching your face. “I had a good time tonight,” he said, his voice sincere.

You smiled, feeling the same. “Me too, Elvis.”

He walked you to your front door. As you stood on the porch, you hesitated for a moment, not really wanting to go inside.

He leaned down, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Elvis,” you whispered back.

Scotty had mentioned his name in passing, but you hadn’t realised that this was the same Elvis who was quickly becoming a sensation. He was laughing with some of the guys, his presence commanding attention even though he wasn’t trying to.

“Elvis!” Scotty called out, waving him over. Elvis turned, his smile broadening when he saw him, and he made his way over to the two of you.

“Scotty! Who’s this little lady?” Elvis asked, his eyes landing on you with a curious glint.

“This is my cousin, Y/N, fresh in from Europe,” Scotty said, placing a hand on your shoulder, gently. “She’s stayin’ with me for a bit.”

Elvis’ gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his smile widening. “Well, ain’t that somethin’? Welcome to Memphis.”

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your composure, but feeling a bit starstruck by his presence. “I’m already liking what I see.”

The rehearsal went on, and you found yourself fascinated not just by the music, but by the way Elvis moved and interacted with everyone. There was an undeniable energy about him, something magnetic that drew people in. And as the evening progressed, you noticed that he kept stealing glances your way, his eyes locking with yours every so often. It made your heart race, though you tried not to read too much into it.

When the session wrapped up, Scotty invited everyone back to his place for drinks. The group was lively, sharing stories and laughs, but you couldn’t help but notice that Elvis had gravitated towards you again. He was effortlessly charming, asking you about life in Europe and what you thought of the States so far.

“It’s different,” you admitted with a smile. “But in a good way. I think I could get used to it.”

“Well, I hope you do,” Elvis said, his tone more serious now, his gaze intense as he looked at you.

The night stretched on, and as people started to leave, you found yourself alone with Elvis in the kitchen. Scotty had gone outside to see some friends off, leaving you two in a quiet moment that felt oddly intimate.

“So tell me,” Elvis said, his voice low, “is everyone where you’re from this pretty?”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Elvis stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours as he leaned against the counter. “I don’t wanna make things complicated, with you bein’ Scotty’s family and all, but… I’d like to see ya again. Just the two of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the idea of dating Elvis Presley both thrilling and terrifying.

“Elvis,” you sighed, “Scotty and you are so close, and I don’t know if he’d want—“

“What do you want?” He interrupted, his hand now resting over yours. You inhaled sharply at the purposeful contact. Something about him made it impossible to say no. And you did really want to.

“I’d like that,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The kitchen door suddenly swung open. Scotty walked in, a broad smile on his face as he entered the room, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you and Elvis.

“Hey, what’re y’all doin’ in here?” Scotty asked, his tone light and playful.

Elvis immediately stepped back, putting some distance between the two of you. You could see the flash of nerves in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a casual grin.

“Oh, just chattin’,” Elvis said smoothly. “Y/N here was tellin’ me all about the music scene back home. We gotta tour there, man.”

Scotty nodded, “Oh, wouldn’t that be great? You gotta get the colonel on that, Elvis.”

“Hey,” Elvis suddenly said, his voice a bit louder as if trying to draw attention. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen, and tore some paper off a blank notepad magnetised to the fridge. “You mentioned earlier that one of your friends back home is a fan, right? Let me give you an autograph to take her.”

“Oh, right, thank you,” you replied, catching on quickly. You watched as Elvis scribbled something on the paper. He handed it to you with a small smile.

Elvis gave you one last look before he straightened up and flashed a charming smile at your cousin.

“Well, I should probably get goin’,” Elvis announced, stepping away from the counter. “It was very nice meeting you.”

“Alright, man,” Scotty said, clapping Elvis on the back. “Take care. We’ll see ya ‘round.”

He walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with Scotty. Your cousin turned to you, completely oblivious to the unspoken conversation that had just taken place.

“Glad you’re gettin’ along with everyone,” he said.

“Yeah, everyone is very nice,” you replied, your heart still racing.

Later that night, when you were alone in your room, you pulled out the piece of paper Elvis had given you. His number was scrawled beneath a hastily written message, “Keep this safe. - Elvis.”

A few days later, Scotty had invited you along to the studio again, excited to show you more of the work he was doing with the band.

You quickly spotted Elvis, sitting at the piano. His eyes flicked up as soon as you entered, locking with yours for a brief moment. A subtle smile played on his lips, and you could feel your heart skip a beat.

Scotty led you over to a group of the guys’ girlfriends who were gathered off to the side, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. They welcomed you with warm smiles, and soon you found yourself involved in their conversation, though you couldn’t help but keep glancing over at Elvis.

A couple of hours passed, and the rehearsal was winding down. Scotty walked over to you, wiping sweat from his brow. “Well, looks like we’re about done for the night. You ready to head out?”

Before you could respond, Elvis spoke up from across the room. “Hey, Scotty, how about letting her stay with the girls a bit longer? I can give her a ride home when she’s ready.”

Scotty looked at Elvis, a bit surprised by the offer. He then turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “You alright with that?”

You glanced over at Elvis, who was watching you intently, and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Scotty smiled and gave you a quick hug. “Alright, I’ll see you later then. Thanks, man,” he said, nodding to Elvis before heading out the door.

Once Scotty was gone, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The other musicians began packing up their gear, and the few remaining girlfriends started to trickle out, leaving you and Elvis with just a few others. Elvis walked over to you, his expression softer now that Scotty was gone.

“Wanna get outta here?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

You nodded, a mix of curiosity and excitement bubbling up inside you. “Sure.”

Elvis led you out of the studio, his hand lightly resting on the small of your back as he guided you to his car.

“I would take ya out,” Elvis said as he drove, “but I can’t be sure we won’t get pictured, and I can’t have you ending up in the papers. ‘Specially not without Scotty knowing.”

“I get it.” You said softly. Instead, he took you to his house. Elvis parked the car and walked around to open the door for you, his hand gently guiding you out.

Elvis pushed open the front door, and you were immediately greeted by the comforting smell of home-cooked food. The house was cozy and welcoming, it felt built from love. As you stepped inside, a woman’s voice called out from the other room.

“Elvis? Is that you, honey?”

“Yeah, Mama, it’s me,” Elvis replied, guiding you toward the living room.

You entered the room to find a woman and a man sitting on a couch, their faces lighting up when they saw Elvis. The woman, whom you quickly recognized as his mother, got up and walked over to you with a warm smile.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing!” she said, her voice full of warmth as she pulled you into a gentle hug. “I’m Gladys, and this here’s Vernon, Elvis’ daddy.”

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” you replied, feeling instantly at ease in their presence.

Vernon stood up, offering you a kind smile and a handshake. “Any friend of Elvis’ is welcome here.”

Elvis stood by, watching the interaction with a soft smile. “Mama, Daddy, this is Scotty’s cousin, Y/N. She’s visitin’ from Europe.”

Gladys’s eyes lit up with interest. “Well, how excitin’! You must have some stories to tell.”

Elvis gently guided you toward the couch, sitting down beside you. The living room was cozy, with soft lighting and a few of Elvis’s records scattered on a table nearby. After a few minutes of chatting with his parents, Gladys excused herself, offering to get the two of you something to drink, which you both declined. Vernon followed her, leaving you and Elvis alone in the living room. You spent the night talking, telling stories, getting to know each other, singing (or at least, on Elvis’ part) and just hanging out, but as the night continued, it was soon time to head back to Scotty’s house.

Gladys smiled, her eyes twinkling with affection. “You take care, honey. And you,” she held Elvis’ arm, “make sure she gets home safe?”

“Don’t worry, Mama,” Elvis assured her. “I got it.”

You said your goodbyes to his parents, taking a liking to them already. They were kind and welcoming, and you could see where Elvis got his warmth and charm.

As you approached Scotty’s house, Elvis slowed the car, pulling up a little way down the street, wanting a moment with you that wasn’t directly in front of Scotty’s property line. He cut the engine and turned to you, his gaze soft and contemplative.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, his voice low, almost as if he were afraid of breaking the quiet intimacy that had settled over you both.

You smiled, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “I had a wonderful time, Elvis. Thank you.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if considering something, then leaned in closer. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, one that made your heart race and your cheeks flush.

“I’ll figure somethin’ out,” he promised. “Somewhere we can go, I mean.”

You nodded, still a bit breathless from the kiss. “I can’t wait.”

With a final, tender look, Elvis gently squeezed your hand before turning back to the wheel. He pulled up in front of Scotty’s house and turned to you again.

With a sense of reluctance, you both got out of the car. Elvis walked around to your side, offering his arm as you approached the front door of Scotty’s house. The night air was cool, and the street was quiet, with only the soft chirping of crickets breaking the silence.

As you reached the front door, Elvis hesitated for a moment, then gently knocked on the door. You could tell he was trying to be respectful, even though he probably wanted nothing more than to steal another kiss before saying goodnight.

You stood beside him, your heart pounding as you waited for Scotty to answer. The door creaked open, and there was Scotty, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to recognition as he saw the two of you standing there together.

“Well, look who it is,” Scotty said with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Elvis nodded, a slightly sheepish smile on his face. “Didn’t wake you, did we?”

Scotty chuckled and shook his head. He stepped aside, holding the door open for you.

“Thanks for bringing her home, Elvis,” Scotty said, his tone friendly but with an underlying hint of curiosity. “Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

Elvis laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, she’s a good girl.”

You blushed slightly at the exchange, feeling the warmth in the room despite the teasing.

With one last, lingering glance, Elvis leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Goodnight, Y/N’.”

“Goodnight, Elvis,” you replied, your heart fluttering at the tenderness in his voice.

“Night, EP,” Scotty said, closing the door. You pulled your coat off, hanging it up, smiling as you caught a whiff of Elvis’ smell, realising some of his cologne had rubbed off onto you.

“Had a good time?” Scotty asked.

“Yeah, the girls are all lovely.” You reply, heading up the stairs to go to bed. You didn’t love lying to him, but you didn’t love the thought of not seeing Elvis even less.

—————

A/N: thank you so much for this request, I had so much fun writing it!! if you want part two where you tell Scotty/Scotty finds out, just drop another request and lmk how you want him to react!! (Happy, been knowing, surprised, upset, etc) <3

In the living room, Elvis had been sitting with a few of his friends, joking around, playing the piano, enjoying the afternoon.

At the sound of your voice, he excused himself with a grin and made his way to the kitchen. You didn’t notice him at first as you were pulling plates from the cupboard, but you felt him step behind you, his arms slipping around your waist.

“Hi, sugar,” he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply. “Smells nice,” he murmured, his voice low and warm.

You leaned back into him, smiling. “Here, try some.” You turned in his arms, holding up the fork. Elvis took the bite, his eyes closing as he savored the taste. He hummed in approval, and you could see the enjoyment on his face.

“That’s real good, darlin’,” he said, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

You smiled at his praise, feeling a swell of pride. “I’m glad you like it.”

He reached for another forkful, but you playfully swatted his hand away.

“Hey now, wait until everyone else has a chance to try it!” you laughed, but handed him another small piece anyway. “Just a little bit more.”

Elvis chuckled, taking the bite and nodding in approval. “I ain’t gonna be able to move on stage if ya keep feeding me like this.”

You laughed, reaching up to run your fingers through his dark hair. “Nonsense, Elvis.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. The warmth of his affection made you melt into him, the two of you enjoying the quiet moment in the kitchen.

“How ‘bout we bring some of this out to the guys?” You suggested.

“They’d love that,” he agreed. You grabbed a knife to slice the crumble into portions. Elvis grabbed the plates you’d gotten out, and you followed him back to the living room.

As you served up the apple crumble, the room filled with appreciative murmurs and compliments. Elvis sat beside you on the couch, his hand resting on your knee, and you could feel the pride in his touch. He was always so admiring of the way you went out of your way to look after everyone, a trait you and he both shared.

“This is really somethin’,” Joe said, taking a bite. “You’ve got a real talent here.”

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a bit bashful under the praise. “I just enjoy it, that’s all.”

Elvis squeezed your knee gently, his smile full of pride. “She’s bein’ modest. She’s been keepin’ us all spoiled.”

“Can I take the recipe home to Pat?” Red asked, finishing his slice.

“Of course,” you said, your smile widening.

After everyone had finished, the conversation shifted back to whatever they’d been discussing before, but Elvis stayed close by your side, his arm draped comfortably around your shoulders. You leaned into him, enjoying the easy companionship of the moment.

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear.

“I love you too,” you mumbled.

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.” You spoke. Standing up, you took a moment to let the world around you stop spinning, before heading towards the house, cocktail glass still in hand.

Turning a corner, you almost collided with Elvis, who was making his way through the hallway, his presence immediately bringing a smile to your face.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Elvis greeted you softly, his hand resting gently on your waist.

“Woah, hey there, handsome,” you greeted him back, your voice playful, “I am so proud of you,” you raised your glass in a toast, but Elvis gently intercepted it.

“Alright, let’s switch to something a little lighter, huh?” he suggested, taking the drink from your hand and exchanging it for a glass of water from a nearby table.

His brows furrowed as he watched you attempt to down some water, with most of it ending up down your chest instead of your throat.

He refilled your glass of water and led you to a quieter corner of the house, away from the bustling party. His touch was gentle yet firm, guiding you with care.

“You okay?” Elvis asked, his voice soft with sincerity as he wiped some water from your chin. You lent your forehead fall against his shoulder, an action he took as a ‘not really.’

He guided one hand to your chin, holding your head up, the other holding the glass against your lips, titling it ever so gently.

“Here, baby sips,” he encouraged.

You obeyed, allowing the cool water to soothe your parched throat.

“That’s it,” he murmured as you took another small sip, his tenderness once again making you feel better. As the minutes passed, the feelings of dizziness and nausea started to dissipate.

“Feeling better?” Elvis asked softly, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders.

You nodded, leaning into his warmth. “Thank you for looking after me.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his affectionate gesture a silent reassurance. “Always.”

The night continued on with Elvis keeping a watchful eye, occasionally refilling your glass with more water and steering you away from the bar.

“Austin, slow down!” You protested, trying to keep yourself covered in only your robe, but he just kept going, his grip on your hand like a vice. Finally, you reached your trailer, and he yanked open the door, pulling you inside. The door slammed shut, and he spun you around, his eyes burning holes into anything he looked at.

“You have no idea how hard it is for me to watch you with him,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I know it’s not real, but I hate it.”

You reached up and cupped his face, trying to soothe him. “I'm yours, Austin. Only yours. That's just a scene, it doesn't mean anything.”

But he just shook his head, his eyes flashing at you blindingly. “I need to…” he spoke, never finishing his sentence, yet claiming you with possession.

He swallowed audibly, then wrapped his arms around you, pressing you up against his body, and kissed you, his tongue sliding along yours in an unforgiving fashion. His body shook against yours, his need for you almost painful to see. His hands slipped down your back, digging into your hips as he pulled you against him. You ran your hands down his chest and stomach, making him suck in a sharp breath. He swore under his breath, shaking his head.

“Are you okay?”

He pulled back and growled at you, “I need to mark what's mine.”

He lifted you up, pressing you against the wall beside the door, then grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head. His lips found your throat, and he sucked hard, sinking his teeth in.

You cried out, surprised by his dominance, but his other arm was quick to slide under your thigh, holding you against him, letting you feel his need for you. His lips moved down your neck, nipping and kissing as they went, you let out a moan when he reached your tits. He chuckled, running his teeth over one nipple, then the other. You squirmed in his hold, arching your back, wanting more, wanting everything. He chuckled again, nipped at your side, moving lower, and lower.

You watched has his body creeped closer to the ground, resting gently on his knees, taking his time. His right hand untied your robe, parting it, his lips hit your hip bone, you shuddered, letting out a groan. His fingers found the waistband of your underwear, pulling them to your ankles. You stepped out of them, gladly, looking down at him on his knees in front of you. He ran a thumb over the wet patch of your panties as he held them.

You watched his face as he did it, and he smirked up at you, licking his lips. "Sweet, so sweet," he growled, slipping his fingers between your legs. Not high enough to be touching your pussy, but high enough for you to wince at how close he was. He massaged the skin of your inner thighs gently. He encouraged you to lift your leg. You complied, slipping your foot out of your flip flop, he guided it to rest on his shoulder, leaving you spread wide open in front of him. He groaned at the sight, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up at you, his eyes darkening, his pupils swallowing his irises.

You bit your lip, your heart racing, your core tightening at the sight of him in front of you. He placed a wet kiss to your thigh, then dipped his tongue inside you. You let out a loud moan of relief, your fingers finding his hair to grip. Your head fell back, you gasped at the sensation. Austin licked you leisurely, his tongue dipping inside, then back out, then swirling around your folds, lapping at the juices there.

His thumb gently lifted the hood of your clit, exposing it, and began to circle it slowly. A bolt of electricity shot through you, and you shuddered in his hold, his name falling from your mouth.

He hummed against you, the vibrations of his deep voice playing on your sensitive nerves. He pushed two fingers inside you, curling them inside, and circled your clit with his tongue again. Your hands, still gripping his hair, pulled his head back and forth, fucking yourself with his face, wanting more, needing more. Earning a chuckle from him, he pulled your ankle further over his shoulder, getting your core even closer to him.

He began to lick harder, faster, eating you like a man starved of your taste. He sucked on your clit, and you cried out, heading in the direction of orgasm. Every spare breath of air he could get, he dedicated to moaning for you, letting you, and anyone else within earshot, know how much he loved eating your pussy. The sound of his voice, his whimpers and moans, and the wetness of your juices against his face was doing its job perfectly. The tell-tale string of whines that he knew all too well fell from your lips, the ones that signaled the beginning of your orgasm.

“God, Austin,” you squeezed your legs around his head, your entire body clenching as if it was trying to hold him in place. He kept licking and sucking until you were crying out, clawing at his head as he continued to pleasure you. A desperate chorus of screams and cries came from your voice as you lost your composure all over him. He didn't change a thing, not wanting to interrupt your climax. He drank every drop of your come, savoring each spasm until you were finished.

He slowly pulled his head away from you, his chin and lips, even his nose glistening with your slick. His cheeks flushed, he smiled as he took a few deep breaths.

“Fucking delicious,” he said, standing, wiping off his chin with his sleeve. He reached to the shoulders of your robe, pushing them away, watching it fall off of you, leaving your body bare in front of him. He felt his cock press against his jeans.

Your hands soon found his bulge, rubbing against the hard length there, sending his mind spinning. He groaned at the feeling. He didn't blink once as you unzipped his pants and let his cock spring from his underwear, kissing his tip, stroking him, teasing him. He groaned again. “All yours” you whispered, letting his cock part your pussy lips, gliding between them.

He slid inside of you, and you felt your walls begin to tighten. He had barely entered you before you cried out, gripping him tighter, holding onto him. You did as best as you could to bounce up and down on him, but it didn't work too well when you were standing up like this, his height made it difficult. He picked you up, you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. He stepped out of the pool of denim at his feet and began to thrust in and out of you. You locked your ankles together behind his back, using his shoulders to push yourself higher, driving him deeper. He began to pound into you, his hips making yours ache as he repeatedly smacked into them. You pressed your lips to his neck and jaw, leaving a trail of kisses everywhere you went. His grip on you tightened as you took his earlobe between your teeth, an action that always drove him wild.

“Gonna come again for me, baby?” he growled, his voice low, dirty, and very fucking sexy. “Y-Yes.” You panted. He squeezed your ass hard, plunging himself back inside of you.

“Then you better let me hear it.”

“ Oh, fuck, Austin,” you cried, feeling his thrusts get sloppier, each one taking more effort from him. “Come inside of me, Aus, please.” You continued. “Good, good girl.” He praised you, his thrusts not relenting. “Come with me,” he huffed, his balls drawing up tight. “Mhm,” you cried, trying to hang onto your orgasm.

You felt him coming first, the way he shuddered, pulsating inside of you. He pumped several times, his body locking in place, and he groaned loudly, spilling his cum into you, his arm trembling as he held you up. You too, writhed around, your orgasm further coating his cock with wetness.

He shook violently, but didn't let you go. He kissed you again and again, nibbling on your lip, your neck, and your chin. You laid your head on his shoulder, both of you panting, exhausted, and utterly content.

He lowered you to the floor, his eyes never leaving you.

“My girl,” he muttered, gently placing you back on your feet. “Only yours, Austin.” You affirmed. He picked up your robe off the ground. He grimaced in amusement, watching his own cum pour from your pussy, pooling between your feet. He held your robe behind you, letting you slip your arms in and get covered and comfortable. After redressing himself too, he found a towel to wipe you and the floor clean with.

He tossed the used towel in the corner of the room where he had found it. “I love you.” You spoke. “I love you too, my darling.” He pulled you into his chest, kissing the top of your head. “You should get jealous more often.” You teased.

"This song," he began, his voice smooth and dripping with intent, "is dedicated to a special someone in the audience tonight."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, heads turning to look at you. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your grip on Austin’s hand tightening. You leaned closer to him, whispering, “This is humiliating.”

Austin’s jaw clenched, his protective instincts kicking in. “Do you want to leave?” he whispered back, his voice barely audible above the applause as he began to sing. The song’s lyrics were painfully obvious, a lament about a girl leaving and finding happiness elsewhere—clearly aimed at you and your new relationship with Austin.

Maybe only 20 seconds into the performance, and you couldn’t take it any longer. You squeezed Austin’s hand, your way of telling him you wanted to go, and without a moment’s hesitation, he stood up, pulling you with him. He walked you out of the room, the curious gazes of celebrities and cameras trailing after you.

Once outside, you found a quiet corner away from prying eyes. Your composure shattered, tears of frustration and embarrassment welling up in your eyes. He lifts a finger up to your eyes, drying them before you could ruin your makeup.

"Who does he think he is?" You exclaimed, your voice quivering. "That was so embarrassing, Austin. How could he do that?"

Austin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot. I promise he’s embarrassing himself more than you."

You buried your face in his chest, taking comfort in his steady heartbeat. "Do we go back in?" You asked, her voice muffled. "There were already so many cameras on us."

Austin kissed the top of your head, stroking your back gently. "We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, okay? We can leave if you want, or we can go back in there."

You took a deep breath. "I don’t want to let him ruin our night. Let’s go back in. But can we wait until he’s done?"

"Of course," Austin said, his voice soothing. "We’ll take our time."

You stayed in your secluded corner for a while longer, Austin holding you close, whispering reassurances and planting gentle kisses on your forehead. Eventually, the sound of applause signaled the end of his performance, and the energy shifted back to excitement for the next performer.

Austin looked into your eyes, his expression filled with love. "Ready?" he asked, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

"Ready," you replied.

Hand in hand, you made your way back into the hall, your heads held high. The moment you re-entered, the atmosphere shifted again. As you took your seats, Austin leaned in close and whispered, "I’m so proud of you."

You smiled. "Thank you, Aus."

No reply as you scrolled aimlessly, waiting. Figuring his silence was a ‘no,’ you put your phone down and tried for the hundredth time to fall asleep. Just as the the room fell back to darkness, a buzz beside your head alerted you back to full consciousness.

“I am. Come over, door will be unlocked for you.”

You didn’t hesitate. All the cast and crew were staying in houses along the same strip and Austin’s was conveniently just across the road. You slipped on your shoes and quietly made your way over, the early morning air cool and refreshing against your skin as you knocked lightly before pushing the door open. You found Austin in the kitchen, already making his breakfast and a coffee.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a warm smile, “you look sleepy.”

“Because I am,” you replied, with slightly more attitude than you intended, “I just couldn’t get comfortable.”

You turned to leave, going to curl up at the end of the couch in the living room.

He soon joined you, placing his food on the coffee table. You lifted your head from the back of the sofa to look up at him.

Austin motioned towards his bedroom. “If you want to try and get some more sleep, I promise you the bed will be so much comfier.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, hesitating for a moment.

“Yeah, of course,” Austin said, leading you towards his room. “Make yourself at home.”

You slipped into his bed, instantly feeling enveloped in comfort. Austin closed the curtains but left the door open, ensuring you could rest without feeling too closed in. His sheets smelt divine, just like the way he smelt every day, but softer. And between you and well, you, there may have been some feelings starting to develop for him.

You actually did manage to get some rest, when the sound of conversation woke you. You heard Florence’s voice ask if he’d seen you.

Austin replied, “Yeah, she’s in bed,” nodding towards his room.

Concern painted Flo’s face, “she slept with you?”

Austin shook his head, setting down his coffee. "No, she came over earlier. She’s just having a nap. She couldn’t sleep at your place."

Florence crossed her arms, studying him carefully. "Mhm. And are you trying to sleep with her?"

Austin met her gaze evenly. "No, I’m not trying to sleep with her."

"So, there are no feelings for her? And it’s normal for you to let anyone you’ve known four weeks sleep in your bed?" Florence pressed, her concern evident. She was your best friend, and you did only know Austin a few weeks. She really was only looking out for you, even if she was being a bit pushy for half seven in the morning.

Austin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Right now, my feelings for her are friend deep because that is all I’ll let them be. If she makes it clear to me that she wants me to make my move, then I will allow myself to feel more.”

Florence nodded slowly, her expression softening. "I just don’t want you hurting her."

"I promise, that is the very last thing I want to do," Austin assured her.

Florence glanced towards the bedroom, then back at Austin. "Alright, I’ve got to go. I’m already late. Thanks for the breakfast," she said, holding up the small to-go container he gave her.

"No problem," Austin replied with a warm smile. "Don’t work too hard."

Florence gave him a cheeky nod and grin before disappearing, her voice yelling, “I will hurt you if I find out you try anything on her,” earning a laugh from Austin.

You decided to pretend to still be asleep so he wouldn’t know you heard any of their conversation. Austin took a moment to gather himself before heading towards his bedroom where he thought you were still sleeping. He approached the doorframe and knocked gently. You groaned softly, stirring but not quite waking.

"Sorry," Austin whispered, not wanting to startle you. "Are you ready for some breakfast?"

You shook your head, still half-buried in the pillows. Austin smiled softly, about to walk away, when he heard you mumble his name.

"Yeah?" he responded, turning back towards you.

You reached out towards him, and he stepped closer, thinking you were asking for help getting up. But instead of taking his hand, you wrapped your arms around his neck, insisting on being held.

He leaned down, his strong arms easily lifting her from the bed. You nestled against him, your head resting on his shoulder.

"Where do you want to go? The couch?" he asked softly.

You shook your head, your hair brushing against his cheek. You laid your head more comfortably on his shoulder, and Austin took the cue, gently swaying back and forth, like rocking a baby. His arms were strong and steady, capable of holding you for as long as you needed him to.

You stayed like this for several minutes, the morning light casting a soft glow through the partially closed curtains. Austin felt a deep sense of peace, content just to be there with you. Eventually, he felt you shift slightly, a sign that you were ready to move. He lowered you gently back down, your feet touching the floor. You looked up at him with a shy smile, your eyes filled with warmth.

"Let’s get you some breakfast,” he smiled back.

“Don’t you dare pull some crazy stunt on me.” You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you, easing some of the tension in your chest.

He laughs, “I promise, baby.”

Just then, your best friend and maid of honour, Emily, approaches, her dress swishing softly as she walks. “Alright, you two,” she says with a grin. “It’s time. Colt, you head to the altar. It’s almost showtime.”

“See you soon, beautiful. I love you,” Colt says, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting go. The absence of his touch feels strange and momentarily unsettling, but you take a deep breath, grounding yourself.

"I love you too," you reply, your voice barely a whisper.

Once he’s gone, Emily turns to you, her eyes shining with excitement. “Ready to do this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you say, a smile spreading across your face.

Your father appears then, his eyes misty with pride and emotion. He offers you his arm, and you take it. “You look amazing,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead gently.

“Thanks, Dad,” you reply, your voice thick with emotion.

“Let’s go give Colt a run for his money, huh?”

You laugh softly as you both step forward, and the double doors of the church open wide. The soft strains of the wedding march fill the air, and you see Colt standing at the altar, his eyes locked onto yours. He looks incredibly handsome in his suit. The moment he sees you, a visible shift happens. His strong features soften, and his eyes well up with tears. By the time you’re halfway down the aisle, those tears have spilled over, streaming down his cheeks. Your eyes blur with tears too, watching as he brings his hand over his mouth to stifle a cry.

You can’t feel the ground beneath you. You body is heavy, you move in slow motion against, hyper aware of all the eyes on you, yet the only thing in focus is Colt. When you reach him, your father places your hand in Colt’s and steps back, tearing up at the sight of you.

“Hi,” he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

The intensity of the moment hits you, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek as you whisper-laugh, “Hi.”

He reaches up to gently brush it away, his touch tender. The ceremony proceeds, a blur of words and emotions, but every moment is etched in your heart. When it’s time to say your vows, Colt is up first, his voice earnest as he speaks to you.

When the officiant finally pronounces you husband and wife, Colt holds you, one hand on your waist, the other on your back. He dips you, placing a gentle, passionate kiss on your lips.

The reception had been everything you’d dreamed of—laughter, dancing, and love filling every corner of the grand hall. But now, the lights are dimming, and the music has faded into a soft murmur as the last guests say their goodbyes. You stand by the door, your arm looped through Colt's, watching your families exchange hugs and parting words.

“Take care of each other,” your mom says, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she hugs you tightly.

“We always have, Mom,” you assure her, squeezing her back before turning to Colt’s parents. They embrace you warmly, their approval and happiness evident.

As the last of the well-wishers leave, Colt looks down at you, his eyes filled with tenderness. “Ready to go, Mrs. Seavers?”

A thrill runs through you, at the sound of your new name.

“Almost,” you say, glancing around the now-empty room. “Let’s just have one more moment here. Just us.”

Colt nods, understanding. He leads you to the center of the room where earlier you’d shared your first dance as husband and wife. The remnants of the celebration—a few scattered petals, empty chairs, and half-finished glasses of champagne—create a quiet, intimate atmosphere.

Without a word, Colt pulls you into his arms. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he begins to sway gently. There’s no music now, just the sound of your footsteps and the faint hum of the night outside.

“Today was perfect,” you murmur, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the feel of his arms around you.

“It was,” he agrees softly. “But this—just you and me—this is what I’ll remember most.”

You smile against his chest, your heart swelling with love. "Me too. This is all I’ve ever wanted."

The two of you continue to sway, the room silent except for the rustle of your dress and his suit.

Colt tilts your chin up, his eyes searching yours. “I promise to make every day feel like today,” he says, his voice wet with honesty.

It’s dark, but he can see your bright smile. He leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, you’re both smiling, your foreheads resting together.

“Let’s go, Colt.”

The night is still and full of promise as Colt opens the car door for you, and you slip inside. As he joins you and starts the engine, you take his hand, feeling the warmth and strength of his grip. He turns to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Wanna do some doughnuts?” he asks, a playful smile spreading across his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. Why aren’t you surprised? “Sure.”

With a grin, Colt revs the engine, and the his truck roars. The two of you share a quick, exhilarated glance before he maneuvers the car into an empty section of the parking lot. Then, with his stunt man expertise, he whips the steering wheel, and the car spins in tight circles, the tires screeching against the pavement.

You’re both laughing now, the rush of adrenaline making the moment even more thrilling. The night sky spins above you, the stars blurring into streaks of light as he wraps his free arm around you, holding you to his side.

When he finally brings the car to a stop, you’re both breathless, your cheeks flushed with excitement. Colt turns to you, his eyes shining. “I love you,” he says, his smile shining through his tone.

“Hi, baby.” He enveloped you in a warm hug, his arms wrapping around you in a familiar embrace that felt like home. As you leaned into him, he pressed the flowers into your hands, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss.

“Elvis,” you mumbled, kissing him on the jaw, “these are beautiful. Thank you.”

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with affection as he watched you admire the flowers, “you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

“Come,” you pulled him inside, going to search your cabinets for a vase for them. Your parents weren’t home, they went out for dinner, otherwise he would have gone and said hello to them. You rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out a delicate vase from the back of the cupboard. Elvis stood by, covering the countertop with hand to protect your head as you stood.

While arranging the flowers, you discovered a small note hidden among the blooms. You hadn't noticed it before, and your heart skipped a beat as you read the words. He held you from behind, resting his chin in the crook of your neck as you read it.

To the prettiest petal there ever was.

All my love, Elvis.

“Oh, you!” You squealed with delight as you gave him a peck on the lips. “Elvis, you are too sweet.”

He chuckled, his hand resting on the nape of your neck, his touch firm yet calming. “Nonsense,” he whispered, his voice gentle, “now, you ready?”

You gave a satisfied nod, heading for the front door. His tall frame reached out to grab your coat off the hook before you could, wrapping it around you with a gentle touch that sent shivers over your skin.

With a quick peck on the cheek, you shut the front door and headed to his pink Cadillac. The drive to the restaurant was filled with laughter and conversation, the anticipation of the evening ahead palpable in the air between you.

As you arrived at the restaurant, you were greeted by the warm glow of candlelight and the aroma of delicious food wafting through the air. Over dinner, you shared stories and dreams, lost in each other's company as you savored every moment together.

As you sat across from each other, sharing ice cream for dessert, Elvis reached across the table to take your hand in his, clearing his throat.

“Y/n, there's something I-I've been w-wanting to ask you.” His nervous stutter that you adored so much made an appearance, you gave him an encouraging glance.

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his love and affection reflected back at you. “What is it, Elvis?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “I know we've been seeing each other a w-while now, and I ain’t never been happier,” he began, his eyes filled with sincerity. “I wanna go steady, y/n, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, Elvis,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He leaned closer into you, you leaned in too, your lips meeting in a tender kiss.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box and placing it in front of you. “I got you something,” he said, his voice soft.

You opened the box, your breath catching in your throat as you saw the delicate silver bracelet nestled inside. It had a tiny heart-shaped charm with his initials engraved on.

“Elvis, it's beautiful,” you exclaimed, feeling overwhelmed by his generosity.

He took the bracelet from the box, gently fastening it around your wrist as he looked into your eyes. “Like you.”

He looked up at you from your wrist, his thumb reaching out to wipe away a tear that threatened to spill over.

After he paid the bill, he stood up, once again helping your arms into your coat. After dinner, Elvis took you for a leisurely drive, the night sky twinkling overhead the cool breeze brushed your hair back. And as you arrived back at his house, you cuddled up on the couch and watched whatever was on tv for a while, getting cosy. As the night progressed, Elvis felt your lean more on him, yawning, growing tired.

“Let’s get you home so you can get some rest.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

At your home, he walked you to your front door, he kissed you goodnight, his touch lingering on your lips.

“Thank you,” you smiled sleepily, “tonight has been the best night of my life.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” He replied.

"Wait a minute, darlin'," he stopped you, as you turned to go inside. "Turn around for me."

You did, and he unclasped your necklace, slipping a ring off his finger and putting it on the chain. He did it up again, and you felt a little thrill run through you.

"What's this?" you asked, touching the ring.

“Well, you gotta wear my ring around your neck,” he said, his eyes sparkling with romance. "You're special to me, darlin', and I want everyone to know it."

You kissed him one last time, feeling like you were floating on air. You went inside, took off your shoes and coat, and couldn't stop grinning from ear, not even while you were sleeping.

Your fighting instructor was one of the (particularly stern) Harkonnen wards. Feyd liked to attend your training sessions whenever he could. He watched from the sidelines, two of his subordinates either side of him, his arms crossed over his chest as he observed your every move. He monitored your progress, but more importantly, was there also in case anything happened to you.

“Again,” the instructor barked, lifting his dagger to strike.

You ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the blow. Your heart raced as you lunged at him, your own blade flashing in the sunlight. The Harkonnens were known for their ruthless fighting style, and you couldn't afford to be caught off guard.

You parried his attack, the clang of metal ringing out in the arena. The dance of combat ensued, each strike and parry leaving Feyd impressed. As you sparred, you felt a sharp pain in your side. A piercing shriek rang from your lips, you cried as you reeled over in pain, the sound echoing off the walls of the arena as you stumbled to the ground. Feyd was by your side in an instant, getting you onto your back, cradling your head in his lap. You screamed and cried, your vision swimming with tears as you fought to stay conscious.

“Just breathe,” he murmured in between your screeching, “just breathe.”

The sound of your cry, especially one of pain, was the worst sound he could ever be subjected too. Like how a mother reacts to her baby’s cry, it was horrid, not because of your voice, but because he felt this unyielding compulsion to put an end to its cause in an instant.

He had one hand at the top of your head, holding it steady against his thighs. The other hand, he had firmly gripped on your chin, holding your head so you wouldn’t catch a glimpse of your wound, your vision pointed directly up at his face. Feyd knew that your injury was not that deep, nor in a fatal position. He knew he wouldn’t have made so much of a peep if he received the same one. If you were his student he would have punished you for reacting to your wound. That was irrelevant, though. He didn’t need you to be as good of a fighter as him. He just needed you to be okay.

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to catch your breath. The pain was intense, like a searing hot knife cutting through your flesh. You could feel the warmth of your own blood seeping through your training clothes.

As the sound of hurried footsteps of medics and doctors approached, Feyd's demeanor shifted, his gaze hardening into steel.

"You are okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible, “I’m right here.”

He rose to his feet, his movements fluid and purposeful as he approached your instructor with a rumbling snarl.

"Women are not fighters," he spat as Feyd approached him.

“You commit treason,” Feyd growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "You are weak."

With a swift motion, Feyd drew his blade, the metal glinting ominously in the light. Before anyone could react, Feyd struck, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Blood sprayed across the arena as the instructor's throat was slit open, a gurgled scream escaping his lips before he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Feyd stood over the instructor's lifeless body, his blade still in hand. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of fear in them. But then it was gone, replaced by a fierce determination.

“You will heal quickly, you are strong. I will protect you,” he said, his voice fierce.

And you knew he meant it. Feyd Rautha, the Harkonnen heir, had just killed one of his own to protect you. You had been cut free of your clothing, your wound was tended to, cleaned and stitched up and injected with pain killers in a matter of minutes, exactly the way the Harkonnen medics were trained to do. Feyd watched over as they did so. You could feel his hand on yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin.

“I'm here,” he murmured. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. He shook his head, arguing your apology.

You nodded, your face flushing with desire, and leaned in to kiss his neck. Not that he needed to ask you to know. He was acutely aware of the way your skin felt slightly warmer to the touch, and the subtle changes in your scent when you were on your period. The most obvious giveaway though, was that you couldn’t control yourself around him. All day, you’d been pouncing on him any chance you got. Feyd-Rautha's eyes sparkled with amusement. He knew exactly what you needed. He knew exactly what he wanted.

Without hesitation, he swept you up in his strong arms, and you wrapped your legs around him, holding on tight. You couldn't help but squirm in his grip, desperate for any friction that would bring you relief from the ache burning deep inside of you. Feyd chuckled at your desperation.

“My brave and beautiful darling,” he said, his voice filled with adoration. “I will make sure you are well taken care of.”

He held you in his arms, kissing you softly, letting you show him what you wanted from him.

Finally, he laid you down on the bed, his movements gentle and deliberate. As he undressed you, his fingers danced across your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes, surrendering to his touch, and let out a soft sigh of anticipation. Without a word, he slid down between your legs, his eyes locked on yours as he gently parted your thighs. You felt a flutter in your chest as he leaned in, his hot breath whispering against your skin.

He slowly worked his way up, leaving a trail of fire wherever he went. When his lips reached your center, you arched your back, gasping in pleasure. His touch was reverent and slow. Your breathing became labored as his tongue dipped into your core, circling and stroking. The sensation was almost overwhelming, his tongue expertly teasing out your pleasure. You moaned, your body arching into his touch, as he worked his magic. Feyd’s mouth was gentle, yet insistent, as he lapped up the evidence of your period as if it was the most natural thing in the world, which to him, it was. He relished in the taste of your blood on his tongue.

He paused, his gaze locked on yours, and you saw the hunger and desire reflected in his eyes. He let tongue fall from his lips, showing you that he enjoyed himself coated in your blood. “Let me hear you,” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

You obeyed, moaning softly as he pushed a finger inside you. You squeezed around it, relishing in the sensation. He curved his finger just so, and you arched your back, thrusting against him. Your moans filled the room as he feasted on you, your fingers digging into the sheets as he drove you higher and higher.

“Oh, Feyd,” you cried, coming hard as he continued to devour you. He sucked your juices off his fingers before crawling up the bed, his hands exploring every inch of your body. You arched your back, eagerly welcoming his touch, and his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing your nipples, smearing your own blood over your skin. He hovered over you, his erection pressed against you, his eyes filled with lust. “Are you ready for me, sweet girl?”

You nodded, your heart racing. You lifted your knee, inviting him in, and he obliged, his cock sliding deep into your wet heat. You gasped, your body trembling with pleasure, as he began to move inside you.

Feyd’s strokes were slow and deliberate, building up a rhythm that had you panting and moaning beneath him. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, and he obliged, his thrusts growing more insistent. Your blood only added to the lubrication. You were so wet, so hot, he groaned every time his balls slapped against your ass.

He reached between you and stroked your clit, and you bucked against him, driving him on even harder. He slammed into you, his thrusts coming fast and furious. He kissed you, his tongue tangling with yours, the taste of you making his cock throb.

He knew he wouldn't last much longer, and he wanted to mark you. He broke away from the kiss, his lips finding your throat. He bit down gently, not enough to break the skin, but enough to leave a mark. He could feel your heart pounding beneath his lips, and he smiled.

As he fucked you, you felt like you were melting into his touch, your body surrendering to his every move. You whimpered and cried his name, over and over, as he brought you to the edge of climax. And when you finally came, it was like a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and spent.

With a loud, throaty grunt, and the encouragement of your orgasm squeezing him, his black seed jetted out of him, filling you.

He held himself over you, his chest heaving with exertion, as you both lay there, basking in the aftermath of your sex. Your ran your fingers lightly over his abs as he kissed you gently on the forehead. He pulled out of you gently, smiling at the sight of himself smeared with blood and your wetness.

“Sweet girl,” he purred, “what a mess you’ve made on daddy.”

At first, you simply enjoyed the movie, your body pressed tightly against Elvis', feeling the gentle rise and fall of your body as he breathed with your weight on top of him. But as the minutes ticked by, you started to notice the way his hands were resting on your thighs, their warmth seeping through the fabric of your pants.

His fingers started to explore further, tracing patterns on you, making you shiver with anticipation. You leaned back against Elvis, your head resting on his broad shoulder as his hands continued to wander. The sensation was intoxicating, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the gentle pressure of his fingers on your skin.

Without warning, Elvis' fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, making you gasp in surprise and pleasure. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan as he started to finger you, his touch sending waves of pleasure through you.

Of course he does this in a room full of people. He got off on the thought of his sweet, innocent girl being anything but. His fingers were magic, you had to fight the urge to rock your hips into his hand. You somehow managed to hold still, allowing Elvis' hand to move around you as his fingers guided you towards that release that he knew how to get you to so well.

You were sure some of the others were noticing. No one dared look though, everyone knew better than to question Elvis in his own home.

Despite the clandestine nature of the act, you couldn't suppress the rising feeling of arousal that pulsed through your veins, spurred on by the electrifying touch of Elvis' fingers. The room seemed to fade into the background as he skillfully played with your body.

His index finger curled inside of you with a finesse that left you breathless, pumping in and out of you in a slow, deliberate motion. His other arm strapped your body to his like a seatbelt, holding you steady. He added his middle finger, stretching you out. You clenched your walls around him, gripping him as he did so.

He was relishing in the sight of you building to orgasm right in plain sight, even going as far as laughing and engaging in the film while he worked away at you.

He rubbed quick circles over your clit, switching directions periodically. Reaching his fingers back further down, he drew some of the slick that was pooling out of you up to your clit, increasing your sensitivity tenfold.

“It’s okay, baby, come,” Elvis’ voice rumbled from deep within him as he whispered in your ear.

After only a few more moments of his fingertips playing with your clit, your thighs squeezed shut, finally reaching your climax. Elvis' fingers continue to move, drawing out your orgasm until you're left feeling completely and utterly spent. His strong arms held your body close to his, containing the shuddering of the aftermath of your orgasm.

“Good girl,” he kissed your temple, cuddling you tightly, going back to watching the film.

Later on, as the lights came up and the rest of the group starts to stir, you and Elvis share a knowing smile. As everyone started to file out of the tv room, Elvis pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I love you,” he said.