I love that skinny dipping prompt. Could you make it with 70s Elvis, maybe a hint of smut at the end. Thanks!!!!
Just Like Old Times
70s!elvis x reader | 🌺 - skinny dipping
tw: sad reader but that's it! || word count: 2.0k || rating: Pg-13
A/N: i'm baaaack!! it's been so super long since i updated but hi!! i hope all of y'all are thriving and are healthy and happy! i'm starting out slow with some blurbs (thank y'all for the requests fr!) but hopefully i will soon be able to step back into doing full-length fics as well!
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You clutch the pillow harder and wipe a stray tear from your cheek. The moment your fingertips swipe it away, another takes its place. You ignore the sound of the creaky door opening, his footsteps on the carpet, the way the bed dips down when he sits on the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut in denial when you feel your husband’s palm stretching across your back.
“I’m sorry, baby,” his deep voice comes out raspy and strained.
You can tell that he’s been crying, too. For a moment, you feel accomplished knowing that you’ve hurt him. He should be upset; the whole argument was his fault to begin with. If he would just spend a little more time at home, if he would just settle down…
What are you saying? He’s Elvis Presley. There’s no such thing as settled down for him.
“You okay, honey? I don’t like this not talkin none,” he continues. “I can’t promise I can fix it, but what I can do is promise to listen. For real this time.”
“What good will listening do, Elvis?” You muster the energy to sit up, sniffing as you straighten. “I’m sick of this. I can’t do it anymore. I shouldn’t have to.”
“I know baby, I know,” he replies, taking ahold of your hands. “Believe me.”
You drop your gaze down the bed, feeling your chest tighten.
“Let’s go for a walk like we used to when you first move in here. Can we do that, darlin? Please?”
Your spirit brightens at the mention of your early days together, the honeymoon phase, when you had just moved into Graceland. A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth and you remember fonder times just after your marriage. You newlyweds had taken so many walks in the backwoods of the property. You talked to Lisa Marie in your stomach as you walked, telling her about the trees and the flowers and the fireflies.
When you raise your eyes to your husband’s, you hard exterior softens immediately. His eyebrows are turned upward, his eyes glistening with tears. He has always been able to break you down so easily. You sigh and nod.
You pull on a pair of sneakers and grab a jacket, just in case. Summer is turning to fall and the Tennessee weather is unpredictable. Elvis holds out his hand but you can’t bring yourself to take it just yet. You gently push it away and descend the stairs before stepping out into the familiar night.
For the first few steps, Elvis trails behind you. You guess he’s gauging how much trouble he’s really in and trying to decide how close he can get without upsetting you. You walk with your arms crossed over your chest, the jacket hanging loosely on your shoulders. You keep your eyes trained on the ground beneath you, watching each step carefully. He must have taken your silence as a good sign, because he circles around to your side and falls in step with you. You walk in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of your feet crunching through the grass and leaves to fill the crisp night air.
“I’m just frustrated is all,” you say quietly. “I married you because I want to do everything with you, share everything with you, be with you all the time. Now…I hardly see you and, when I do, I’m not even sure you’re really there.”
You are met with silence. Again, the air is filled with the sounds of your feet trekking through the backyard. After what feels like a long while, you lift your head to the side. Elvis’ fingers are busy rubbing repetitive circles on his temple.
“I know, darlin, I know. This has been botherin you for a long time now. I jus…see, I know how to fix it but I just gotta make myself do it. I know I gotta make more time for ya. For you and Lisa. I know that but I…I jus can’t. That’s the problem.”
Your feet scuff to a stop and you turn toward your husband, exasperated.
“Why can’t you? What are you so afraid of, Elvis?”
He throws his hands up, his head rolling to the side so that he doesn’t have to face you directly.
“If I take time off, I feel like I…like no one’ll…Nah, nevermind, it’s stupid.”
“Elvis,” you step closer to him. Your palm slides onto his face, forcing his eyes down to yours. “Nothing you could ever say will sound stupid to me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”
His jaw clenches and you can tell he’s clearly thinking. He sighs and nods resolutely.
“If I take a break, I’m worried that nobody’s gonna remember me when I come back.”
Your frustrated expression softens once again and you step closer to him, brushing your thumb across his cheekbone.
“Oh Elvis…baby, they’re not gonna forget you. No one could forget you. Hell, those fans know you better than I do right now. I feel like I hardly know you anymore. They got their time with Elvis Presley. Now it’s my turn.”
He hesitates, shaking his head. His face contorts into a concerned expression, so you grip harder onto his face.
“It doesn’t have to be forever, Elvis. Just for a while. I want my husband back, even if it’s just for a bit. A vacation. I think we should take one. We could take Lisa to Disney World or go on a cruise to the Bahamas or…whatever you want.”
Elvis closes his eyes, dropping his head down. His forehead crashes onto your chest. Your fingers tangle into his hair, gingerly brushing through the locks. You remain like that for a few moments before Elvis lifts his head. He presses a chaste kiss to the bottom of your throat and then pulls away. He sniffs and offers a small smile before holding out both of his hands. His body circles around you.
“C’mere,” he says.
“Where are we going?” you ask, even though you’re already reaching out to meet him.
“You’ll see.”
He starts to pull you along, on a path you don’t immediately recognize. You squint into the darkness but, without the generous light from the streetlamps, all you have to work off of is the beam of white light from the full moon above you. Despite the darkness surrounding you, you can still see the way your husband’s eyes sparkle. You haven’t seen that in a long time.
You stumble behind him into a small clearing. Your breath catches in your throat as you start to comprehend where you are. You giggle and bite your lip as memories flood through your mind.
“Remember this place?” he asks, stepping behind you.
“Yes, of course I do,” you reply.
You grin sheepishly as you gaze out across the small stretch of freshwater pond in front of you. The reflection of the glinting stars and the moon shimmers in the water as a gentle incoming autumn breeze blows through the air. Your arms raise automatically when you feel Elvis’ hands wind around your waist. He pulls you backward into his body and tucks his head in the crook of your neck.
“Remember what we did here?” Elvis continues in a hot breath across your skin.
Goosebumps rise on your neck and arms. You tuck your head to stop the sensation from spreading.
“Yes,” you reply through a cheeky smile, “I remember.”
His fingers start to trail down the exposed skin of your neck, intensifying the goosebumps already there. His soft touch sends shocks down your spine. He hasn’t taken the time to touch you so carefully in a very long time. He deftly lifts the jacket from your shoulders and then pulls the straps of your nightshirt down your shoulders. As the fabric falls limp on your arms, exposing your shoulders to the night air, you shiver.
“Elvis, it’s cold out here,” you mumble.
That doesn’t stop him. He moves to the hem of the shirt, his fingers dancing underneath it. He lifts it smoothly over your head. Although your entire body is shuddering, you gladly allow him to undress you. The growing fire inside your gut is countering the frigid temperature around you. Elvis’ warm lips press to the side of your neck. Your head falls to the side as the touch of his tongue warms you. Your hands respond by reaching backward to tangle in Elvis’ hair, pulling softly. He grunts in response and you close your eyes to take in all of the sensations coursing through you. While he works your neck, Elvis’ fingers are busy sliding off your pajama bottoms. Your clothes pool around your legs in a lifeless pile.
Suddenly, he’s gone. Your eyes flash open and flick back and forth as you search for your husband. It’s so dark without the street lamps that you can barely see. You squint into the dark, but, when you finally locate him, he’s rushing past you to cannonball into the water. You laugh as the wave he created splashes onto the side of the pond's bank. Elvis resurfaces with a loud yelp.
“Woo! Damn, that’s cold!” he shouts and you giggle again. “Come on, darlin! Whatcha waitin for?”
You glance down at the water and your smile fades. You turn away from the water, shaking your head.
“Elvis…”
“Nah, don’t you Elvis me. C’mon. Need somebody to warm me up, mama.”
That is an invitation you just can’t refuse. You carefully walk forward, one foot at a time, to brave the cold waters. When you dip a toe in, you gasp. It truly is frigid. You aren’t sure how Elvis is handling it all by himself.
You turn away again, tempted to go back inside and warm up. You aren’t really in the mood for this, especially after the fight you just had. But when your eyes flick back to your husband, waiting so patiently and expectantly for you, you find your body moving forward into the water.
You jump in, crashing below the surface. An electric shock swims through you when you hit the water. The memories come flooding back in the darkness. You automatically start to move your arms and legs, resurfacing as soon as possible.
“Holy shit!” you yell as soon as you pop back up. “That is so cold, oh my god.”
“I know, baby. C’mere,” Elvis says, chuckling.
His arms reach out for you again, pulling your body closer to his. You wrap your legs around his waist to hold yourself against him. You drop your arms to his shoulders and wind them around his neck to support your body. Elvis’ hands fall to your waist and hold you steady.
“There we are,” he mutters. “Now you better get real close, mama, cause I’m freezin.”
You chuckle, pulling yourself closer to him. Although your bodies are shivering together, you feel a warmth that you haven’t experienced in quite a while. Elvis brushes some wet hair from your forehead. You lean down, letting your lips tickle against his for a previous moment. You hover in the shared space and Elvis’ fingers tighten on your waist. One of his hands slides up your spine, pressing your chest against him. Your back arches in response and you release a desperate breath.
You feel the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smirk. He finally connects your lips, pressing hard against you. You melt into his touch, kissing him back fiercely. Your mouths work together, fighting for dominance. Elvis’ tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let him in. You love the way his mouth tastes on yours. Your hips move forward against him and that tempting feeling in the pit of your stomach pulses through you. His fingertips glide across your skin, smoothly under the water. As his palm slides down the inside of your thigh, a breeze floats through the air. You both shudder violently, your lips detaching.
You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, burying your head in his chest.
“I guess it was warmer last time,” he admits sheepishly.
You giggle, biting your lip. You tilt your head, brushing your lips against Elvis’ ear before you whisper.
“Take me inside, Presley.”
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🦋 mila