#we HATE Memphis here

[rmbaloncesto]

.

#supporting two NBA teams sucks (specially two west conference ones) because it means i have to watch the grizzlies twice as much #we HATE Memphis here #not valid since marc left #(also i hate how everyone is treating the ja things as a “young star that only needs guidance” like????? no?????) #but ANYWAY #fuck dillon brooks ❤️ #ignore this rant #pls #im just so so SO tired

[dreamingofep]

At Ease

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: kinda🤭

Prompt: Today is the day Elvis comes home from the army and you’re waiting for him with open arms. He wants to show you how much he missed you. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, teasing/ tension, SMUTTT, oral sex, fingering, the usual really dirty stuff.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)

Word Count: 5K

A/N: Hello everyone!

I love some army Elvis and he looks way too damn good to not write about him! Like who gave him the fucking right I hate it. This idea came with the help of @loving-elvis when we noticed how beautiful he looked in this interview and what fun could be had on that desk🤭 I purposefully put that bottom left picture on here for good reasons 🫣 Thank you @cryingabtab for the title name🩷

Again this man has me weak, I’ll never get over him so I hope you enjoy this little one shot and let me know what you think!

I also mentioned earlier that I'm also posting my fics on Ao3 so you can read my stuff there too if you want! The link is on my masterlist. Thank you again❤️

Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

March 7th, 1960

Excited nerves rattled your body as you waited for the white gates to open to Graceland. These last two years have felt like a lifetime since the last time you saw Elvis. He left your life in such an abrupt fashion and you couldn’t believe they shipped him off to Germany so quickly. 

You had only been seeing each other for a few months before he was shipped off so it wasn’t a serious relationship by any means. You both did have a really nice connection though. One that was so easy you didn’t need to think about being a certain way with him or do anything that you didn’t feel was right. He just had this presence that calmed you, but also left you on edge with a tingly sensation running down your spine. 

He was just as heartbroken about the news of the draft as you were. His career was taking off and he was doing what he loved. Couldn’t help but feel he was cheated of the opportunity to do more, but he’s coming back home today and you know he’s going to make a big impact with whatever he does next. 

On his last day here in Memphis, you clung to his shoulders, not wanting him to go so soon. You had hope that things could go further with him but the draft might spoil those chances. 

“When I come back, if you don’t already have a man takin’ care of ya, will you be here waiting for me?” His voice cracking with emotion. 

You gazed into his beautiful blue eyes, trying to memorize how they look into yours. 

“Yes honey, I’ll be here,” you whisper. 

He cracks that crooked smile you love so much and kisses you passionately, flames building inside you. His hands squeeze your hips, pulling you in closer to his warm body. You feel your heart gallop in your chest, your body wanting him like never before. But it’s all too late, and the wonder of what could have been will haunt your dreams for the next two years. He pulls away and looks at you breathlessly. 

“If you want, will you be good for me? Stay untouched and everything,” he asks innocently with a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

You nod your head, squeezing his hand assuredly. 

Within these last two years, no guy has caught your eye, not the way Elvis Presley does. Your friends would set you up on dates with some guys but they always fell short compared to Elvis.

His daddy let you know a few days before that Elvis was coming home and he wanted you there if you weren’t busy. You were thrilled Elvis told him about you, giving you a glint of hope that he still has feelings for you. You knew you were playing a dangerous game though. Elvis could have found a new love in Germany and forgot all about you or he might want you again. 

The white gates slowly open and the black Cadillac makes its way up the winding driveway. Everyone that gathered on the steps of Graceland buzzed with excitement to get a glimpse of Elvis after all this time. 

The back door opens and out comes that tall, blue-eyed boy you’ve missed so much. He was wearing all black, his tan chest peeking out from his dress shirt that was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest. A gold medallion hung from his neck and he flashed that million-dollar smile you had seen so many times in newspapers and magazines. His hair perfectly styled and drooping down onto his forehead when he moved. You couldn’t imagine a better looking man.

He gets rushed with hugs and kisses from his family members and you can’t help but feel the excitement grow inside you to get a hug from him next. His eyes dart up to meet yours standing there on the stoop of the entryway and he looks at you in awe. He politely parts from everyone and makes a beeline to you standing there. He looks you up and down, his eyes lingering places on your body longer than he normally would and it makes you blush. Elvis bites his lower lip as he smiles and shakes his head at you, “well goddamn. Aren’t you the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he gushes. He wraps his arms around your torso and picks you up, giving you a big hug. You can’t help but squeal as he squeezes the air out of you. You giggle as you breathe again and instinctively wrap your arms around his neck. He places a soft kiss on your cheek and sets you back on the ground, taking another look at you. 

“Is it possible you got more handsome?” You ask coyly. He grins down at you, not letting go of your waist. There’s an intense heat radiating through him, his eyes boring holes into your entire body.

“No honey I’m still just me. You on the other hand… my God you look so gorgeous. I really missed you,” he smiles. 

You can’t help but reach for his face, caressing it with your thumb, and look into those mesmerizing eyes. 

“I missed you too Elvis,” you say shyly. 

He reaches for your hand and intertwines his fingers in yours. He looks back to the crowd forming and pulls you into the house, closing the door hoping no one will notice his absence. 

“Where are we going?” you say in a hushed whisper as he’s pulling you swiftly to the back of the house. 

“Away from everyone. I just want a second with ya before I get bombarded with people,” he says as he opens the back door and rushes into the back office outside. He closes the door and the stillness of the office brings a chill to you. Not only that, but the way Elvis feels around you is something you hadn’t experienced before. He feels so comforting and at the same time, dangerous? You can’t really put a finger on what it is but something has changed about him. And it’s not necessarily a bad thing either, it’s just overwhelming and makes you want to sink to your knees. The confidence that he carried now shined through him like never before. When he left, he was still trying to figure himself out, the fame blinded him and he was still a little shy kid from Tupelo. But now, the confidence he carries is so… attractive. You don’t want to get away from him.

Elvis’ hands find your waist once more and pulls you in to hug you, leaning down his face into the crook of your neck. A chill forms all over his body as his skin touches yours. 

More… your body screams. 

Your brain races a million miles per second and you try to calm yourself down. 

He sighs softly and looks back at you, almost unsure of what to say. 

“I’m so glad you’re here. I wouldn’t want anyone else waiting for me,” he coos, tucking your hair behind your ear, showing your face to him. 

“I wouldn’t have missed it, honey. It’s been too long,” you say, your hand snaking up to his soft hair. 

A new tension forms in the room and your heart pounds because of it. There’s a dangerous glint in his eye the more he looks at you. A look of want? Need? No, lust. Raging, burning, lust when he stares at you. He parts his lips and subtly licks them, his eyes looking like they’re intoxicated. 

“Baby?” He murmurs. 

“Hmm,” you say dreamily. 

“I need to kiss you,” he says as his breathing starts to hitch. 

Your hands grab onto the front of his shirt and pull him in closer. 

“Well what are you waiting for,” you whisper, pulling him into you and reaching up to kiss him. 

His soft lush lips press into yours and you could swear this is what heaven feels like. He breathes in deeply as he goes for another kiss, heat coming off of him in abundance. Your hand wanders over his chest, feeling the soft little hairs that lay there. His lips continue to devour yours, putting his hand on the back of your neck, making a soft airy moan slip from your lips as he deepens the kiss. 

Elvis likes this response from you, letting a moan of his own come out and he pushes his hips into your body. Your heart dances wildly, relishing in this new sensation he’s giving you, feeling his member grow hard with need. You gasp when you feel his bulge and your core begins to throb. 

You look up at him breathless, needing more of him but not too sure what to do next. 

“Oh honey,” he mutters, his hands grappling at your dress, scrunching up the pretty tulle fabric. 

“Elvis… I-I-I want you… you feel good,” you stutter out. 

A cute coy smile appears across his face. 

“You feel even better baby.” He says cutely. 

He walks you back toward the desk, lifting you up and sitting you down on the cold surface. He steps in between your legs, causing you to spread them apart more than you normally would. 

“Baby uh,” he stammers. 

“What honey?” 

“Have you been good? Staying a good little girl for me?” He asks. Heat rushes to your core as you realize what he’s asking of you. 

“Mhmm, yes honey. Been on my best behavior,” you assure. 

A little smirk forms on his face and he grabs a hand full of your dress up, moving it above your knee and stopping there. 

“Can I see? Can I feel how good you’ve been?” He says low, his voice dripping with temptation. 

Wetness pools in your panties and there’s nothing more enticing than having Elvis touch you. You want it so bad it feels like you can’t breathe properly without his skin on yours. 

“Yes, you can touch me,” you squeak out. 

He lifts your dress up higher, exposing your white cotton panties that now had a wet stain on them. He sees the stain and his eyebrows shoot up and he hums to himself in contentment. 

He loops his fingers into the waistband of your panties and you lift up your hips to help him get them off of you. 

You’re left exposed there on the table not sure what the state of your pussy might be looking like but based on the way it feels, it has to look a mess. He crouched down to get a better look at you, spreading open your folds with two of his fingers and seeing the wetness spilling out of you. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Someone’s been a very bad girl,” he tsks. 

Your whole body feels on edge and a bit embarrassed, but you know Elvis wouldn’t make you feel bad about this sort of thing. 

“I’ve only been bad since you drove through those gates,” you stammer. “Just the sight of you has me dying…”

“Oh I see honey… can I feel how bad… how bad this pussy needs attention” 

Your heart thumps wildly and you are so magnetized to him and his gaze. You never want him to stop looking at you like this. 

“Yes, please touch me,” you whimper. 

He leans into kiss you, his tongue entering your mouth and tangling against yours. You pull him in again by his collar and moan. He slowly pulls away, his eyes looking at you ravenously. 

Elvis places his index finger on your lips, rubbing it along your bottom lip. 

“Open your mouth and lick,” he instructs. 

Your breathing hitches and you nod your head, opening your lips apart and letting him push his finger in your mouth. You lick his long finger, swirling it like a lollipop, getting most of it wet with your saliva. You grab onto his wrist and continue the motions as he watches you intensely. A deep guttural growl comes out of him as you look up at him with pleading eyes, watching him come undone with this one small act. 

He slowly pulls his finger out, traveling down to your wet heat. His finger gets in between your slick, wet, folds and he cusses when he feels how soaked you are. He rubs it back and forth a few times, giving you a new shocking feeling and increasing the throbbing sensation that has formed there. His fingertip finds your entrance and he carefully plunges it into your core. You gasp, never having been penetrated before and unaccustomed to anything being inside you. His finger feels so long inside you and your walls hug it taught. Your mind races with the thought of what his dick could feel like inside you. If his fingers were long… surely he had something to hide in his pants. 

Elvis moans when he gets knuckle deep inside you, grabbing onto your thigh and squeezing it with his other hand. 

“Fuck honey, this pussy feels perfect. I want to be inside you so bad,” he moans, his finger curling up and pushing up against this spot inside you that could make you scream. 

“Mmm, oh god yes,” you moan, bucking your hips into his hand. He gives a pleased chuckle as he watches you grind more, figuring out what feels best. 

Suddenly, a group of voices start to get closer to the office and their footsteps become louder. You freeze, your heart sinking to your stomach as you don’t know what to do.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself.

He carefully pulls his finger out and licks all the slick that’s gathered on his finger. He moans when it hits his tongue and his eyes roll back slightly. 

“Mmm, taste so sweet honey. We’re gonna have to wait though, the reporters are coming, I need you to hide,” He says controlled. 

“What? Right now? Crap, where should I go?” You say in a bit of a panic. 

He pulls your dress down as the voices become louder, “get underneath the desk baby. Don’t make a sound,” he says as he leads you to the back of the desk and covers the back of your head so it doesn’t get hit. You crouch down and get in the corner of the desk, bending your knees up to your chest and try to control your breathing. 

The door bursts open and a bunch of men’s voices fill the small office. You hear camera bulbs flash and everyone trying to get Elvis' attention. 

“Elvis right here!”

“Elvis how’s it feel to be home?!” 

“Elvis turn to the left please!”

You hear his father’s voice telling them to calm down and ask questions one at a time. 

Elvis is quiet as they snap a few pictures and then he goes to sit down behind the desk. You see his legs move the chair aside and sits down, spreading his legs open and pulling his slacks up. 

You stare at how he’s sitting like he’s just teasing you in your helpless state. He leans forward on the desk, waiting for the reporters to get organized before they ask their first question. There’s little light coming through but your eyes get drawn to his crotch. There you see the outline of his hard member, pressing against his leg. You have to place your hand over your mouth from the gasp you wanted to make. He was so much longer than you could have ever anticipated and that growing need of having him inside you grew immensely. 

The throbbing grew inside you and you squeeze your legs together, needing some relief. You pray that this interview isn’t an hour long or something because you’re going to be in agony by then. Elvis starts answering questions very nonchalantly, his smooth deep voice bringing a zing to your core. His southern inflection on certain words makes your heart leap out of your chest. How can he be so sexy just doing the bare minimum?

His foot rubs against your leg, rubbing it up and down as he sits back and swivels his chair side to side answering the questions. 

Your hand snakes up his pant leg and you squeeze his calf. His leg tenses when he first feels you but then relaxes. Your fingers rub slow soft circles on his toned leg and he starts to move it. You’re not sure if he’s moving it out of nervousness or out of distraction but you can’t keep your hands off of him. 

The next question has you at attention and you stop rubbing his leg. 

“Elvis, did you find anyone special over there?”

He chuckles amused by the question, “No no I didn’t. I did meet this one girl… but it was no big love affair or anything. They just took some pictures when I was getting on the plane that’s all.”

You let out a sigh of relief, thankful he wasn’t madly in love with someone else overseas. But right now it honestly didn’t really matter, he wanted you and was wanting to make love to you and your body craves him. He scoots the chair in some more, leaning on the desk waiting for more questions. Your hand travels further up and finds his still hard length. The heat radiates off of him and it makes your mouth water. You rub it gently, up and down, feeling his body stiffen when you put more pressure. He clears his throat as he answers the next question and pushes the chair in even further under the table, giving you better access. 

His hips subtly rut into your hand and your need for him grows when he does this. You never thought you could make him feel like this but you have him all in your hand and based on how he’s moving, he’s loving it. 

You feel your wetness seep out of you and run down your leg. You were turned on like never before and needed him to pour all of his attention on you.

More…. Your body continues to scream. 

Your hands move up further until you find the button of his pants and slowly slide down the zipper. 

He puts one of his hands on his thigh and scrunches the material of his slacks in a frustrated manner. 

You make sure not to move too quickly to not give any attention to what’s happening behind the desk. Your hand reaches into his pants and pulls out his hard length. You press your lips together to hold make the moan you want to make as you stare at his cock. 

He was much longer than you thought and part of you is nervous to have all of that inside you, but on the other hand, you are so unbelievably horny for him, wanting him to stuff you to the hilt with it. You feel the tip of him leaking with a clear fluid. Your thumb swirls it, spreading it along his head and his hips jolt forward, making it seem like he was just adjusting in his seat. 

Your hand starts to slowly jerk him, feeling the heat of him in your palm like a hot rod. You feel so dirty for doing this but love that it’s with Elvis and it seems he’s enjoying it. Another really bad idea comes into your mind. One that you’ve only ever heard of from other girlfriends and right now, it seems like a really good idea. You want him in your mouth. 

Your heart continues to gallop, almost sure that everyone can hear it in this room. You decide to go for it, and pull back his foreskin and swirl your tongue on it. The clear fluid tastes salty but your mouth waters for more. You wrap your lips around him and put more of him in your mouth. You hear him take a deep breath in as he answers the last question and try to maintain his calm stature. 

Your wetness continues to pool more and the throbbing becomes almost insatiable. You try to not make any noise with your mouth but it is difficult. You have to take it slow and based on Elvis’ hip motions, he’s liking it. 

The reporters thank Elvis for his time and people start to file out. A few of them hang back trying to get another question in but his daddy escorts them out and informs them the interview is done. 

“Daddy, please let me be alone in here. Don’t let anyone in. I need a moment to myself,” He says calmly as your mouth takes more of him. You hear his audible gasp and clear his throat again. 

“Sure son, no problem,” He assures. 

The click of the door closes and Elvis stays still, making sure no one is going to come in. He moves his hips away from you and you release his length from your mouth. He stands up and swiftly goes to the door, turning the top bolt. You hear his footsteps come around the desk and he pushes the chair away from it. He reaches his hand underneath the desk and finds your arm and pulls you out from underneath. 

He has fire in his eyes and looks so unbelievably intense. Taking the back of his forearm, he wipes the desk off clean. Papers fluttered into the ground and paperweights made a loud thud when they hit the carpet. 

He picks you up underneath your arms and sits you down firmly on the desk. Your eyes wander down to his open slacks and see his length in a better light. You softly moan when you see it, veins protruding from his shaft and the head of it peeking from his foreskin, red and glistening with your spit. 

He places his hand on your chin, making you look up into his eyes. 

“Jesus Christ woman, look what you’ve done to me,” his head shoots down to look at his length. He doesn’t let your head move and you just have to wait for what he wants to do next. 

“That stuff you were doing was very bad… I liked it a bit too much,” he says devilishly. 

“Oh yeah? I wasn’t sure but… I’m glad you did. I really liked it too,” you say timidly. 

His hands squeeze your thighs, spreading your legs open and pulling up your dress to rest his cock on your folds. You gasp at the sensation and he moans deeply. He takes his cock in his hand to rub the tip of it on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp and claw at his arm, cussing underneath your breath. 

“God you’re so wet honey,” he groans as his length gathers more of your arousal on him. He watches you intently, seeing how your eyes cannot be taken away from his length. He chuckles inwardly and continues to tease you. 

“You see something you like?” He asks deviously. 

Your breathing quickens as you continue to watch him rub his length through your folds. 

“Y-y-yes Elvis I umm… oh God,” you pant, letting these euphoric feelings wash over your body. 

“What baby, what is it? Tell me what you’re thinkin’,” he tantalizes. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your cheeks turn scarlet with what you’re about to say. “I just… umm… I didn’t expect you to be so… so big,” you mutter, looking back up into his eyes. 

A soft smirk forms on his face, “it’s gonna feel even better inside you,” he coos. “Are you ready for me? You want me to take care of you?” 

Your head feels like you’re on a cloud and drunk on him at the same time. 

“Yes please,” you mewl. 

He pulls your dress up off your body and pushes you back on the desk to have you lie down. The cold surface hits your back and sends chills through you as Elvis looms over you. His hands squeeze your breasts and another bolt of lightning travels through your body to your core. 

He lines himself up and pushes the tip in, making you cry out. He grunts when he tries to put more inside of you. 

“Fuck honey you’re so tight. You need some help taking me.” He says pulling out of you and placing two fingers on your clit and rubbing there. You let out another needy moan as he works you. He coats his two fingers in your wetness and carefully pushed them inside you. 

“Ohmygod,” you cry out and your head pops up off of the desk to watch him finger you. He curls them and feels out your fluttering walls. 

“Yes baby that’s it, keep nice and relaxed for me,” He beckons. His fingers reach places you haven’t even known about, making the slick between your legs grow even more. You begin to rut into his hand, letting your instincts take over and get the most pleasure out of it. 

He groans when he watches you, almost looking envious of his fingers with how good they’re making you feel. 

He quickly pulls them out of you and you moan with feeling so empty. 

He lines himself up again against your weeping hole and looks at you, he sees your pleading eyes wild and lust-filled. 

He pushes himself in and groans heavily, your wet heat wrapping tightly around him. You cry out for him, feeling the searing pain and pleasure filling your body. He keeps a slow pace, pushing in more of his length with each thrust. You watch as he pulls out his cock and see your wetness cover it, then get buried back inside you. It’s all too much, the sensations that he brings to you are like nothing you’ve ever experienced or thought you could experience. 

Elvis hisses as he moves faster, “goddamn honey, feeling so good. Squeezing my cock so tight already,” he slurs. He grabs onto your hips and starts to drive into you like this. You moan louder, feeling the pain sear through you. 

“Elvis please,” you cry. He rubs one of his thumbs on your clit and moves it in fast circles.  

“You’re doing so good honey. Almost there,” he says as he pushes the rest of his length inside you making both of you groan. 

“Oh god Elvis yes,” you moan. Pleasure slowly starts to seep through your veins and tightens the coil in your belly. He moves his hips faster, hitting all the right places and making you feel so good. 

His face looks gorgeous like this, so concentrated on you but so lustful. He makes the most delicious noises when he takes you, grunting and panting for air as he stuffs you completely. His eyes are glued to his length going in and out of you and how each snap of his hips makes you moan even louder. 

The pain subsides and all you can feel is mind-blowing satisfaction. You sit up on your forearms to look at him fuck you, your coil tightening by the second. His hips pound into you harder, rubbing your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, bringing you closer to orgasm. 

His eyes drink you in and suddenly stop when he looks at your belly. He cusses and places his hands on your lower belly, putting a new pressure there making you feel so full. Every snap of his hips drives you wild and you’re so close to screaming his name. 

“Look baby, look how deep I am inside ya,” he grunts breathlessly. He lifts his hand and you can see the poking of his head pushing up on your lower abdomen. You moan deeply, unable to take much more. The squelching coming from between your legs makes Elvis take you faster, wanting to take you to the edge. 

“Fuck Elvis, that’s so good,” you gasp, placing your own hand on your belly to feel him inside you. 

He growls, too far gone with lust raging through him, “Oh honey, takin’ me so good. You’re gonna make me cum,” he groans. 

He leans down to suck on your breast, licking and biting at your nipples. Your walls flutter and you know you’re going to cum. He sees the panic and pounds into you harder, almost knocking the wind out of you.

“Come on baby, let yourself go,” he pleads.

You throw your head back and scream for him as your walls squeeze around his girth. Your entire body radiates with pleasure and you can’t catch your breath with how he’s taking you. 

He moans your name too, barely able to contain himself while he’s inside you.

“Goddamn baby, I need to cum…” he grunts through his teeth, his hips becoming sporadic and his strides uneven.

He abruptly pulls out of you and jerks his cock in his hand. You watch as white-hot spurts come shooting out of him and into your belly. You watch in awe as he comes undone in front of you, probably one of the single most hottest things you had ever seen in your life. The way his eyebrows furrow together and opens his mouth before letting out the most satisfying-sounding moan you’ve ever heard.

Elvis pants over you, wiping the sweat from his brow and leaning onto the desk with one hand. You look up at him in a daze, unable to comprehend what has happened within this last hour. Your body feels weak yet floating on a cloud. You have no idea sex could be that good let alone it being your first time. Those famous hips put in the work and left you breathless. You look down at the pool of his arousal sitting on your belly, and back up to him.

“Was that okay for you honey? Did I do a good job?” He asks innocently. You nod your head yes quickly, almost laughing that he even had to ask you that. 

“Oh yeah honey, you were… God I have no idea what to say, It was so damn good,” you gush.

A smile forms on his face as he looks at your body again, “Good baby, I loved it too. I couldn’t get enough,” he teases, wiping your belly off with a tissue.

“Well umm… I’m free for the rest of the day…. If you decided you wanted some more of me,” you tease.

He lets out a little chuckle and his eyes light up, “I might just have to take you up on that,” he coos.

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Tagging 🖤: @powerofelvis @plasticfantasticlOver @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @elvispresleyxoxo

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @rosepresley @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog @myradiaz @lookingforrainbows @elvispresleygf @tacozebra051 @thatbanditqueen

@18Ikpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873 @austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis @everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy @elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley smut #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x reader #austin elvis x reader #austin elvis smut #austin elvis imagine #elvis x oc #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis imagine #elvis fanfic #60s elvis #army elvis #elvisaaronpresley #samfangirls #at ease fic

[be-my-ally]

We can't go on together (with suspicious minds) fic. 1.

first post! i've been working on a mini series of these, where the reader confronts Elvis about his other girls and his reaction to being called out. I think we're going to go for a classic and name the series Suspicious Minds? This is the first, completely inspired by that phonecall with anita, and the story from priscilla about Elvis' reaction to her divorce request.

Pairing: Elvis/afab!reader (I imagine BDE but I think you could probs picture whatever era you like)

Summary: Reader is upset at being forced to watch Elvis constantly touching and kissing other girls - his solution? fuck her until she doesn't care anymore.

warnings: 18+, blowjobs, sex, demanding!Elvis, jealous!Elvis, possessive!elvis, idk yandere? maybe a little? slight dubcon, especially in the second half. tiniest breeding kink. arguing as foreplay, references/allusions to infidelity, mention of pregnancy. Reader is definitely being manipulated here. Elvis is not being nice.

wc: 5.7k (this was meant to be under 2k whoops) I kind of hate the last couple of lines but if I didn't decide I was done there this was gonna go on forever so there we are!

The fact that Elvis kisses forty girls a night is neither here nor there, they are indiscriminate from one another and don’t mean anything - you know that. He simply has to kiss as many girls that he finds unattractive as much as those that catch his eye; although whenever he argues this point you’re uncertain if he truly knows how to be unattracted to a girl of any kind.  But you’ve so far taken it at face value - he was yours at the end of the night and you were in his bed, in his home, and honestly that’s all you cared about. You could let the other girls have their seven seconds with him.

You probably, at this point in your relationship, cared far too much about him but he made you feel like no-one else has ever done. You wonder sometimes if he even knows how love feels - or if he just truly has to be permanently in love to live, he says it so easily and freely. Regardless, you can’t help but believe him when he says he loves you. There’s just something about him, a strange magnetism or force that allows you to forgive and forget a lot more than you usually would. Constantly desperate for his approval when really he should be begging for yours. You’d beg him to pay attention, accuse him of being distant and he would somehow always turn it back onto you - “You’re just so damn needy,” and “I can’t just rush off to see you when you want, I’m a busy boy Darlin’,” until he became exasperated; “Lord, stop naggin’ me woman.” You accepted it, in a way you wouldn’t from anyone else - you simply argued your case as much as you could, hung up the phone, sobbed, and then ran to him gladly when he offered you any scrap of attention. Why didn’t he like you enough to listen if he claimed to love you?

It’s not the girls at the concerts you worry about, throwing themselves up at him, clawing at him - that display of unwomanly desire is as unattractive to him as can be, entertaining rather than arousing, and you know that for him it really is all about putting on a good, memorable show for the audience. It is as much a part of his stage personality and persona as his jumpsuits are; women and girls go to see Elvis expecting to come home kissed.

It’s the afterparty girls you find difficult. It’s when you see, from across the room or even from right beside them, his hand inching up their thigh; when their legs tangle together, or he pulls their feet on his wide spread thighs that you start to feel like its wrong. You mind it less if you’re not there to see it, and you can tell Elvis knows this too - judging from how often you’re sent home to Memphis, only called back to Vegas every few weeks. Whenever you talk on the phone you ask him about the other girls - if there are any, if there’s anyone special. He always denies it and reminds you over the phone that “I’ve only got eyes for you little darling.” But that “a man’s got needs mama” or even, “I’m a polite boy baby, I can’t just shove em offa me!” And you agree - he can’t exactly shove girls off of him, but maybe he could just…invite them over less?

 But really who knows what else he is supposed to do. It’s not like there’s a precedent for this, nor is he likely to listen to your suggestions. So you accept it all, simply as part of the price of being allowed to maintain rotation in his orbit. 

But still it’s hard. Especially when it’s been days since you last had the chance to really see him, or spend any time with him and he’s sat there lapping up the attention from these goddamn groupies like a sultan with his harem. You can’t help but go cold to his advances, giving him one word answers when he deigns to talk to you across the room. You can tell you’re annoying him, he hates to be publicly defied especially from one of his women - from his main woman, and you can tell he’s chewing his cheek by the clench of his jaw when you respond again in words of one syllable. As if to annoy you further you watch him shift in his seat, spreading his legs further apart, and laughing as he tips his head back in response to whatever blondie to the right of him says. It causes the fabric of his trousers to go taught, and his neck muscles tighten - veins appearing to tense. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you close your eyes for a second. He’s unfairly attractive like this, in fact, he’s blinding to look at and you can’t help but shift your thighs together. 

When you open them he’s staring back at you. You inadvertently make eye contact and he winks. You forget for a second you’re angry at him, and can’t stop the heat rising up you. But then you watch his arm flex around the girl to the left of him and you regain your senses, looking away with a flick of your hair. You count to a hundred, pretending to keep the conversation up with Jerry while you wait to glance over again. When you look over again he’s whispering in her ear, and you can’t help but glare. He seems to sense you, and looks over her cheek to you. He leans back and nods to his dressing room door.  You purposefully ignore him, turning back once again to Jerry. A second later you can hear movement behind you and Elvis’ voice rises above the noise of the conversations around you; “I’m sorry sugar, but I’ve got some business to see to.” Your ears are attuned to him, and you have no idea what the conversation you’re in is anymore, listening to hear what this business was and trying to judge from the sounds what his movements are from behind your back. A second later you don’t have to try and guess as his hand touches your elbow, 

“Come on now darlin’ lemme borrow you for a sec.” You look at his hand on your elbow and your eyes narrow at him, but he’s looking at you like he’s daring you to say something, playfully half expecting you to make a scene. But that’s not your style and he knows it. You flick your head back around to Jerry and Charlie and say, 

“Sorry guys, the ‘King’ called.” You add a sarcastic edge to your words and playfully roll your eyes. You turn around to head towards his dressing room and jump as Elvis’ hand connects with your ass - propelling you forward, he walks you towards the door laughing as the boys behind continue their conversation as if you were never there. 

You pull away from him as soon as you’re on the other side of the door and look at him affronted when he shuts the door with a definitive click and turns around, practically leering at you and rubbing himself over his trousers. 

“Oh, you must be joking.” You scoff, you can’t deny you’re almost always turned on around him, but you do have some level of self respect. 

“Come on now baby, don’t be like that, thought you’d wanna help me out?” He pleads, looking at you hopefully. 

“That fuckin’ groupie gets you all riled up and i’ve gotta be the one to deal with it.” You roll your eyes again, crossing your arms over your chest. He frowns, 

“Well - if it’s such a chore don’t fucking bother.” He shrugs, and looks down at himself, “I’ll just….deal with it myself.” He rubs again before untucking himself from his trousers - his cock jumps when it hits the slightly chilly air, and you can see his foreskin tighten a little in response. He licks his palm ready to get himself going but pauses before he touches himself. He looks down, looking like a kicked puppy, “Never thought you’d wanna leave me like this though little mama,” he touches himself once, twice, starting to peel back his foreskin from his head, “please baby, help me out?” He’s talking in that utterly stupid baby voice of his, and even before the question is fully out of his mouth you know you’re going to give in, that you can’t resist him. 

He practically whimpers a further. “Please baby? Please!” and you know you’ve had it. You’re incapable of denying him any further. You move as if he’s got you on strings, dropping to your knees in front of him. You can feel your wetness start to form - the response to this position is pavlovian at this point. You nod once, 

“Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.” He looks down at you and winks, starting to gather up your hair in his hands to hold it away from your neck and face. He brushes a finger down your cheek and taps it against your lips, 

“As if you had a choice.” Despite the slightly sinister statement you can’t help but find his confidence endearing and you giggle, already feeling better now that he had you alone. Proof that he chose you. 

He’s always gentle at first, allowing you to lap at him, tiny kitten licks as you gaze up. This time is no different, you feel like you’ve been there for half hour, although its probably closer to three or four minutes by the time he starts to insistently push his head against your lips. He lets you control the pace for the moment and you obediently bob up and down on him. He looks down at you, his lips are in a little pouty grimace, and his pupils enlarged so that the clear blue of his eyes is barely visible. He’s clearly losing the battle at staying hands off, and this is even more true when a moment later you feel his grip on your hair tighten. He pulls you further, causing you to choke slightly before you adjust to the deeper motion and it doesn’t take long before he’s completely controlling the pace and depth. 

He speeds up, his eyes slightly manic as he thrusts forward, fucking into your mouth even deeper and remaining deeper to match his quicker timing. He drops your hair and with one hand he holds the back of your head, while the other creeps around your shoulders and neck to rest on the base of your throat, his fingers gently wrapping around. He pulls you all the way off, and a trail of drool connects you before you lick your lips, his precum and your spit mixing into a bitter tasting foam. He nods at you and you take a deep breath, allowing him to pull you forward once more. You hollow your cheeks, and use all the techniques you have, swirling your tongue and humming, and it doesn’t take long before he’s pulling you tighter, harder and quicker, and after that barely any time at all his hips stutter and he’s releasing down your throat, his fingers stroking where he can feel you gulping it down. 

“That’s it. That’s my good girl.” 

He leaves you there, he’s normally very generous - but today he doesn’t even order you to touch yourself. It feels like he’s proving a point, that he gives you what you get. That you’re no different to him using the other girls who get him hard. There just for him to use you, get off. You feel frustrated, and hurt, and a tiny bit like a groupie or whore yourself. But, then he’s sweet as can be the next day - showing you off to reporters, planning a trip to Hawaii together and while you still feel slight unease at how you’ve been treated, you otherwise quickly forgive and forget. 

 ——- 

There’s a party at Graceland tonight, you’ve barely seen him and you huff as you fetch yourself another drink. He’s ‘holding court’ in the music room, playing to other’s requests when you head back to the kitchen. By the time you return he’s sat on that impossibly long sofa laughing and talking with the boys and girls on either side of him and mingling around the room. There’s nowhere for you to sit and you consider the floor for a second - but quickly realise that the place that puts you out of the way of people would put you directly at his feet. You hope he looks over at you, pushes the girl off who’s sat next to him to make room for you. But he doesn’t - instead you watch him lean over to whisper in her ear. You’re openly staring from the doorway now, as he cups her cheek and pulls her in for a kiss.. There’s raucous laughter in response from everyone else, and from the angle - when he opens his eyes mid-kiss -  you make eye contact. He doesn’t even flinch when he notices you. He pulls back and pats the top of her head, she grins - clearly satisfied with herself - and he heaves himself up. Whether to go to you, or just to head out of the room in general you don’t know - by the time he’s stood up you’ve stormed out. 

You take a few deep breaths in the slightly chilly outside air, and walk far enough away that you can look back upon the house. It’s shimmering slightly from the heat within, the windows are steamed up from the volume of people and you can see little plumes of smoke from the sheer number of cigarettes and cigars being consumed escaping into the night whenever the door gets open and closed. You’re not sure why it’s getting to you so much, but it’s like he’s trying to prove a point at the moment and you just have to accept it or find your limit.  You can’t help but let a few tears escape, it’s humiliating, to be treated like that in Vegas or on the road is bad enough but in your own home is almost too much to bear. But maybe that’s the point - it’s not yours really, it’s his and you’re not your own person anymore, you’re his. You stand out there until you can feel a chill setting in and head back inside, slipping upstairs and past the groups of people without saying goodbye, and climbing into bed. 

You don’t sleep, on edge waiting for him to come up, but you do feel yourself drowsing. When he does come up he ignores your body in bed in favour of the ensuite and by the time he reappears in his pyjamas you’re drowsing again. He slides in behind you and you almost inaudibly huff as he drapes an arm over your midriff, tucking a leg over yours. You huff louder, and pull away, turning around from him to face the other side of the bed. He tries to push up your nightgown and stroke your back but you reach your arm around to bat his hand away, you’re certainly not in the mood tonight. Not after his behaviour. “No Elvis. Not tonight. Not after you’ve had those girls all over you.” He pulls away and huffs. 

 “Come on darling, you’re being a bitch.” You roll over and pretend to be asleep. He ignores you.

The next morning you wake up and he’s gone but in his place, on his side of the bed, is a huge box. This isn’t rare - he often bought you presents, or left you clothing to be worn and normally you loved it. It wasn’t even because of the materialism of being bought the pretty things - the dresses and the jewellery; the shoes and the lingerie but rather the possession of it. Owning things he picked out for you with every expectation that you would, of course, be wearing it when he next saw you. Normally this gave you a thrill -  he didn’t even need to write it on a note anymore. It was just understood that you would, when such a box appeared, be bedecked in an outfit that would loudly proclaim you as histo those in the know, if not the world. His flashy, expensive but very specific fashionable and feminine style obvious to everyone who knows him. You peek inside the box to see a flash of green sparkly knit fabric and a red jewellery box resting on top, undoubtedly containing something absurdly over the top and expensive that he expects to see you in. Not this time though. This time the dress can stay in the fucking box it arrived in and you’re going to wear your jeans and a top you bought all on your lonesome. You’re not even going to look at whats in the red box. You feel outraged that he thinks you’d simply forgive and forget his behaviour the night before because he bought you a present. It's even more humiliating than being so publicly embarrassed; the implication that you can be bought so easily. 

You storm out of the bedroom once you’re dressed and your hair is brushed - it’s not styled, which would usually irk you (and him) but you’re honestly too riled up to care. The time for calm is over and you feel like you’ve been pushed to the edge too many times now. You burst into the den, the door slamming open, furious that you feel so out of control. So unlike yourself.

“El you can’t treat me like dirt and then try to buy me off.” He’s cut off in the middle of a take of a song. You can hear the recorder still whirring - that’s going on the tape forever. You’ll make them destroy this copy later, (or Elvis himself will you’re sure) he’s obsessive about keeping everything possible but its unlikely he’d want evidence of his lack of control of you here. The boys all turn to stare, their instruments faltering to a halt and Elvis spins around, before he’s even facing you you can tell he’s utterly furious. He’s practically shaking. 

“-Get the fuck outta here!” He roars, pointing at the door; “fuckin’ hell what do you think you’re playing at?” he tugs at his hair in frustration and you cross your arms. If you leave now and he doesn’t follow you’ll lose what nerve you have. You can only imagine how you’d end up regretting your outburst, simpering apologies to him later if you left now. 

“No.” You actually stamp a foot, and your brain is going fifty miles a second trying to regain your dignity, “No Elvis I won’t. I want you to listen to me.” He puffs out a short breath and starts to stalk towards you. Charlie puts his hand out onto his forearm, perhaps anticipating that with his temper and fury so high he might do something he’d later regret. But he’s unwilling to physically hold him back, and Elvis simply shakes his head at him and shrugs him off instead rushing forward and clutching the top of your arm. 

“Turn that recording off!” He shouts as you struggle against him pulling you towards the door. 

“Elvis! Let me go! Let go of me!” He uses your momentum of your struggle against him to almost trip you over, catching you across the waist and lifting you bodily out of the room. You continue to struggle, thrashing about in his arms as he lifts you up the stairs into the kitchen. He practically drops you when you reach the empty room and you attempt to jump away from him but he holds you steady with that same grip on your upper arm, swapping over to hold your wrist. He practically growls at you; 

“Let’s go baby.” He drags you upstairs to his bedroom, despite your protestations, and slams the door behind himself. 

“I ain’t about to have it out with you with all the boys lookin’ on in, like I can’t control my goddamn woman.” He leans in to sharply whisper at you and you laugh cruelly, finally managing to pull away.

“Maybe thats because you don’t have a woman to control Elvis. I ain’t been your woman in a long time! How can I be if you’re away all the time doing god knows what with god knows who! Or even being here and doing it!” His chest is heaving as he takes in your outburst. He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. 

“Little girl, I’m not having the same argument with you twenty times over. We’ve already had this discussion and you’re really turning me the fuck up about it. I’ve got needs. I don’t know what you want me to say mama.” He’s clearly annoyed, but still trying to come across earnest - as if he doesn’t understand what’s angered you so much. 

“I want you to say that you actually give a damn Elvis. That you give a damn about me. About how I feel about it. About how if you promise me there ain’t another girl that there ain’t another girl that the boys are whispering about.” He rolls his eyes at you. 

“You’re not around all the time baby; I don’t know what you want me to say to you - I love you. That should be enough; why isn’t it enough for you? There ain’t no one I’d rather be with, it just ain’t always possible mama.” You absolutely can’t stand the glow that you immediately feel as he professes his love for you and it spikes your anger once again - since it comes attached to absolutely no attempt to deny his sheer infidelity.  

“Well, you’re not around either, and it’s not a choice I make to not be there for you. Maybe I should do like you do - after all ain’t a woman got needs too?” You placed your hand on your hips, chest heaving at the volume you’d not realised you’d reached.

“Don’t you dare lil’ girl, I told you there wasn’t anyone else. Don’t threaten me like that. You won’t like what you get back.” He tuts and shakes his head, and you’ve no idea where your sudden boldness comes from;

“What? Afraid I’ll like them more?”

He roars at you, throwing himself at you, pulling your hands up. He shoves his lips on yours and you have no choice but to acquiesce to his tongue’s insistent demands that you open your mouth. He growls against your neck; 

“I’m gonna make you see right now. Gotta show you, you belong to me lil mama. To me.” He pushes you down to your knees and it barely occurs to you to struggle. He’s gathering your hair in his hands - pulling it away from your face as you realise the argument’s clearly made him hard - the bulge in his trousers evident from your close angle. He pulls your head back with his grip on your hair and his other hand trails down your cheek to your neck, his fingers stretching around it. Just a presence there. You look up at him with wide eyes and a flushed face and he stares down at you. 

“You’re gonna ‘pologise to me for messin’ with my work. And for accusing me of all that shit and you’re gonna do it right now.” Your mind is gone, his eyes somehow holding you captive and all you can do is nod. “Right then, get little Elvis out baby and get to it.” He nods down at you and you quickly grasp his meaning, your fingers shaking as you fumble through unbuttoning his trousers. He is, like usual, not wearing any boxers so there’s no other fabric barrier that you have to get to before you’re able to pull his cock out. He pulls you by your ponytail and you immediately kiss the head, licking the tip and down in long stripes. He allows this for a moment before taking the hand from around your throat to slap his dick against your cheek - before insistently nudging it against your lips. The moment it’s in your mouth he pulls you down on him, barely giving you time to catch your breath. He’s rougher than he usually is right from the start and it's a struggle to keep up. 

You’re a mess of day old mascara and tears from your eyes watering, and spit and drool when he pulls out. Pulling you off of him entirely. He crouches in front of you and wipes at your face with his thumbs on each cheek before he pushes you backwards, although he supports your fall back with a hand under your neck - lowering you completely to the floor. He moves quickly to unbutton your jeans, tugging them down impatiently. It doesn’t occur to you to struggle, and while a little part of your brain is shouting at you to stop being stupid, that you’re losing the argument, that this wasn’t what you wanted to happen, a larger part can’t get over how good he looks in this moment - nor the anticipation of what you’re sure is going to be some pretty spectacular sex. “I hate you in these, baby.” You smile. That’s why you wore them. 

“Oh,” He smirks back at you. “I get it. Tryin’ to prove a point huh?” He grasps the legs as they unroll past your ankles and yanks. You hear the tearing as they split straight down the seam. “Point made Darlin.” He’s infuriating. He pushes your panties to the side and circles your clit, rubbing down before pushing into the pooling wetness. He slides in one finger, and it slips straight in so he immediately pulls it out to add a second. He pumps them a couple of times, crooking his finger in just the right spot to make you jump around him, your hips grinding of their own accord. You whine when he pulls them out, shoving them into your mouth and he drags you back closer to him. His other hand steadying his dick and he slips his other out of your mouth to better support his body. He pushes in, you’re wet as anything but barely stretched and you can feel every inch of him as he pushes into you. He stills for a second as he bottoms out, and you shiver around him. He looks back at you, his eyes blazing and his hair flopping forward, out from where it was so carefully slicked back. He’s still mostly dressed and it feels so wrong to be able to feel his slacks and open shirt resting against your naked skin but you forget all about this when he pulls you almost all the way off and slams you back down. He thrusts like this once, twice and the noises that come out of your mouth are obscene, your eyes rolling back. “That’s r-right my t-t-tight lil woman,” he stills for a second to kiss you and you clutch at his shoulders for balance as you try to get closer to him. He tugs at your lip before working his way down, sucking onto your collarbone. The heat is building in you, and you can feel it in your thighs, your pulse jumping, but his slow rocking motion isn’t enough to get you properly close; 

“El-Elvis, baby, baby, need you, need you to move.” You stutter out and feel his smirk against your neck. He then, if you didn’t know better, seems to lose control - his hips rocking in his signature way, as he fucks into you rapidly back and forth. 

His bedroom carpet is plush and expensive but still isn’t particularly comfortable to be rocked against as your t-shirt rolls up but he seems completely uncaring to the comfort of your skin being rubbed raw, focussed on his fingers getting you off and fucking into you as deep as he can get. You claw into the carpet as he makes your back arch in pleasure as he pulls away and drags you back onto him. You can feel the bruises forming in the shape of his fingertips on your hips. 

He’s out of breath with the exertion of the act and you can feel the sweat and heat coming off of him, as he thrusts so deeply it makes you choke as your head rocks forward. He lets out a breathless huff of laughter in response; 

“That’s right darlin’ gonna make you feel it.” You moan, and he continues, “Only way to get it through that thick skull of yours is fucking it into you.” He slams into you, and you shake as the words and his motions push you over the cliff. He continues talking but you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears, and the noises coming out of your own mouth as you ride out the wave - his fingers and cock moving in the exact same way to coax you through it. He removes his hand and you feel like you can breathe again as you feel everything pulse around your core. He grips your thighs, “No-one else could fuck you like this, make you take it like this.” He punctuates his point with a rotation of his hips, pushing into you as much as he can - deeply rocking you, and you can feel his head knocking against your walls. You tremble, overstimulated from your brief orgasm a moment ago but still on the edge, “You think anyone else could make you feel like this?”

You rapidly shake your head, stuttering out a response, “No, no, nn-o.” He lets out a breathy, tiny gruff chuckle, 

“No you’re damn right baby. They couldn’t.” You moan, can’t help yourself and you feel him jump inside you, 

“Gonna knock you up darling, gonna make you mine forever.” and his hips stutter as you feel the pulse of his cum inside. You’re shocked at his announcement, but you feel yourself twitch in response and he goes to touch you again, feeling where the two of you join, his cock still inside, sliding his fingers up and down, and that’s apparently enough to send you over the edge again. When you come to he’s slipping his cock out of you, although he remains leaning over you to talk in your ear; 

“You interrupt me workin’ again doll, with shit like this, and you’re out. You understand me girlie?” You nod again, it’s like you’ve been struck cock dumb - you can barely even remember what you were annoyed with him about. He rubs your stomach and places a light kiss on your neck, he murmurs against your skin; “You can’t be jealous if I’ve given you somethin’ no one else has.”  He pulls away from you and redresses himself - well, pulls up his trousers and rebuttons his shirt. You lie there, panting, on the floor feeling his seed trickle out of you. He holds out a hand to you and it seems to take a lot of effort to take it, but you grasp his hand and he pulls you up in one tug. He holds you close and kisses you hard on the mouth, “Put  your present on,“ he glances to the box on the bed, and you nod, “Knocked some goddamn sense into ya now, haven’t I.” He declares it proudly, satisfied that you seem to be meek in agreement with him, and you smile back at him unable to even deny that his fucking you has caused you to agree with him. You turn away from him to head into the bathroom, clean yourself up a little and you can finally talk again as you go, your voice scratchy, “Don’t worry Elvis baby, I ain’t all amped up still.” You can practically feel him smile. 

“That’s good, honey, that’s real good.” He pauses, “If you can behave yourself you can come and join us, if you like, after you get yourself touched up.” You’re inspecting yourself in the mirror, responding with forced casualness, 

“Course!” As you assess your body, still flushed and littered with tiny bruises, you crane around to look at your back and wince at the carpet burn evident there. You shake your head, what a ridiculous thing to have done, when the bed was right there. You hear him leave and take a shaky breath in - how are you gonna sort your hair from this clearly debauched state. You glance down, looking at his fingerprints on your hips and sides, and consider your stomach for a moment. You wonder if he truly has, in his anger, joined you together for eternity. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but on every other occasion he’s ensured you’ve taken every precaution, short of abortion. Should you douche? You jump suddenly as you hear him sprinting back into the room, as if he could hear your thoughts he bursts into the bathroom. 

“Forgot to say mama,” He pauses and jabs his pointer finger at you, “you let that baby stick. It’s the only way to prove it to you. You let it be.”  You start to protest,

“Honey, sweetheart, do you…do you really think we should be doing this? That we should?” 

“You sayin’ you don’t want my baby, Sugar?” You lock eyes with him in the mirror and rapidly shake your head, 

“No-no-no! No! Elvis, No! Of course I do! I just, is this the way it should be done?” He laughs, 

“I don’t see how it makes the slightest bit of difference, we’ll have to go again, later, make sure - don’t see how we can tell which does the trick. Just that it’s done.” You turn to look at him properly, 

“We-ell ok then Elvie baby, let’s do it.”  

Later that night, when you’re sat watching a girl practically climb into his lap you feel a surge of pride - he glances over at you and winks - and you think, that's right have him for the second, but I’ve got what you really want; him all the time and his baby in my belly.

#elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction

[thatbanditqueen]

No One Walks Out Ch 6

My boy my boy... it's been a long time, Becky. This is a response to the writing game prompt "You will love it." "I will hate it." "Nah, you won't."

Thanks to @whositmcwhatsit and @be-my-ally and @vintageshanny and @ellie-24 and @missmaywemeetagain and @from-memphis-with-love and @arrolyn1114 and for playing this game and supporting me as I write, thanks too to @ab4eva for just being an all around mensch....

Summary: Elvis calls Becky, or rather, watches as Charlie calls and asks her to come on tour. She doesn't realize this tour is not going well. But once she is there, she decides to just roll up her sleeves and jump right in. Because Elvis.

WC: 7.3K

Warnings: Swearing, implied drug use, oral sex. This could have been very angsty but it is actually a big ball of unpolished, fantastical, indulgent fluff. I wrote this today and didn't have anyone read it. So beyond typos, expect historical inaccuracies and probably mischaracterization of everyone, including my OC.....

If you need to catch up.... Chapter 5: Salty Lips

Chapter 6: Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire

6 pm Sunday, July 20, 1975

Geiler’s Hardware Store, Jackson, MS

Harriet’s key clicked into the back lock of her parent’s hardware store, and she pulled the handle to double-check that the door was, indeed, locked, before turning to look at her cousin. Becky’s mind was elsewhere and she stared down at her Chuck Taylor sneakers, raising her head only after Harriet coughed, and the two women made their way to Harriet’s small, yellow AMC Pacer. Becky looked out the window, playing with her hair, purposefully avoiding Harriet’s curious stare.

Keep reading

“Earth to Becky, where are you? You haven’t said anything about the date Ida set you up on Thursday.”

Becky pulled on the ring she wore on her right hand, a band of platinum with a diamond flower at the center. It was the ring Elvis had given her, and she could still almost feel the caress of his hand as he slid it on her and told her how beautiful she was, how she deserved beautiful things. That had been a month ago, but it could have been yesterday when Charlie, Billy and Jo had all been rounded up to drive her home to Jackson after a whirlwind week at Graceland.

Becky tilted the ring back and forth, then looked up to watch the businesses in the Fondren go by as Harriet drove her home. Why did it feel like cheating on Elvis to go one blind date. An innocent blind date. An innocent blind date that had fizzled out and ended with a very platonic hug.

“Ugh, he was nice enough. I don’t know.”

Harriet looked over, then back at road.  “It’s Elvis. Ida says he calls you every few days.”

“Yeah, he does. He asked me to come with him for his show in New York. Then well, when I said no I guess he went down the list.”

Becky sighed, thinking of the photos in the newspaper of Elvis with a very thin, very blonde woman who definitely was not Linda. The thought made her frown, and Harriet looked at Becky with sympathy as she turned the car on to her parent’s street.

“I thought you said that you left things on good terms, and that he wanted you to move up there? I can’t believe you would rather be here in Jackson than in Memphis.”

“Yeah. I mean no. I like, him, I mean, I cannot help it. I used to day dream of dating this man. But look at me, Harriet.”

Becky grabbed her purse and got out of the car,  sweeping her hand over her body to showcase her tee shirt and jeans as she stood.

“I’m not groupie material. And I can’t up root my kid and move to a new city just so I can join Elvis’ harem for a few months. We left things on good terms, but I don’t even know if I am cut out to be a harem member.”

“You are a knock out, Becky. You are totally groupie material. No, wait. You're better than groupie. You are at least favorite girlfriend number two or three material. I cannot believe you aren’t on your way to Memphis. Or New York. You only live once!”

Harriet grinned as Becky shook her head and sent her off with a bang to the yellow hood, before turning to walk into the house.

She was a greeted with a yell from Ruth, who was coloring with Ida at the dining room table. Becky could smell Saul’s pot roast wafting from the kitchen as she crossed the room and kissed Ruth on head, checking out her drawing of what looked like a dressed up mushroom in a pile of rocks standing next to Father Christmas.

“What do you think?”

She looked at Ida, whispering as she tried to decipher the words her aunt was mouthing.

“The mob-bit? The Hobbit! Yes, of course, it's The Hobbit. There’s Bilbo. Wow, Ruth, you really captured what I thought he looks like.”

“I’ve been practicing my hobbit form. And see, he’s talking to Gandalf.”

“Ah, yes, I can tell from the beard.” She had to stop herself from giggling at Ida’s wink. “SO amazing, you have become a very talented artiste!”

“Well, she learned from the best.”

Becky smiled at her aunt as she went to grab a beer. “I think the student has surpassed the teacher, I can’t wait to hang this one the fridge.”

 The phone rang while Becky was at the fridge, and she watched Ruth run to get it as she slumped into the chair next to Ida, who reached over to rub her forearm.

“Oy, Rebecca, was the restocking that bad today? You should have stopped Saulie from leaving. He is only 60, he could have helped finish -”

“Oh, no, Ida. Unless Saul has an in-depth knowledge of waterbed installation, his presence wouldn’t have made a difference.”

 “Why do people want to sleep in those things? What if they leak. Or break? I get sea sick just thinking about it.”

“I’ve heard they can be really relaxing. I don’t know, but there is a new waterbed store two doors down. The owner spent an hour trying to figure out what materials he needs us to order, so I guess business is keeping him pretty busy.”

“Can you imagine getting busy in a water bed?”

“Ida!”

Ida grinned, fluffing up her short, silver bob. ”I’m just saying, I couldn’t make whoopee on top of a big bag of water, oy vey, I’d be so nervous, what with the sound of the sloshing - “

“Wait, hold that thought, although you know I love hearing about your sex life.” Becky held up her finger for her aunt to stop talking, pausing to hear what Ruth was saying on the phone.

“How do I know you are really a friend of Elvis’? Well can you ask him to come over again? The  kids next door don’t believe he is my mom’s boy friend. And he promised to take me for ice cream again.”

Becky strode over to the phone. “Ruthie, who is it?”

Ruth covered the receiver with her hand, a mischievous look crept up her little face. “He says his name is Charlie, and when I asked how he knew you, he said -”

Becky held out her hand, taking the phone from her daughter. “Uh huh, ok, that’s enough from you , chatty Kathy, go help Ida clear up the art studio and set the table for dinner.” She paused, smoothing her hair, as if Charlie could see her from the other side of the phone.

“Hi Charlie. What’s up?”

She heard a single nervous “ha” on the other side of the phone, and took a deep breath. “Well, a, heya there Becky.”

It seemed to Becky like there was a more anxious desperation behind Charlie’s perfunctory niceties.

“Hiiiii? What’s up?”

“Look, um, Elvis asked me to call and see if you might reconsider coming out on tour? You know he misses ya somethin’ awful, ain’t stopped talking bout that cute chick back in Jackson.”

Becky took a deep breath, thinking of the photos in the paper of Elvis and that model.

“Hmmm. I’m sure. You know I want to, but I have a kid, Charlie - and it’s her  last little bit of summer, I don’t wanna leave her  twiddling her thumbs while I go traipsing around the country-”

“So bring her. Priscilla brings Lisa all the time, you know, they make it work,  Elvis is a family man, hon- I mean Becky, tour is not some wild orgy. You’ve been there. The guys, the band, were all like a big happy family.”

“One big happy family, huh? I don’t know.”

“I can hear it in your voice, Becky girl, I can tell ya wanna come.”

Becky sighed, looking as Ruth paused her place setting to look up and grin at her mother. Ida was behind her, eye brow arched up as Becky motioned her over, whispering with her hand over the mouth piece if it would be ok to take off for a few days. It was disconcerting how much Ida nodded and how quickly an excited gleam grew in her eyes. Becky shoed her off and carried the phone to wonder down the hallway so no one could hear her.

“Maybe. You really think I could bring Ruthie? How long would it be for ?”

She heard Charlie breathe a sigh of relief, and then there was a kerfuffle and the bang of the phone handle dropping on the floor.

“Hey Becky Butt.” Elvis’ deep voice filled Becky’s ears and she realized he must have been sitting there watching Charlie ask her. “Honey, I ain’t stopped thinkin' bout you since you left me. I need you, need you bad."

Becky started to blush, just at the needy, low tenor of his voice. "I have been thinking about you to."

"That's good baby, real good. Let's get you out here, see if I'm still the same as you remember. Can’t wait to see you, baby. Tonight ain’t soon enough.”

“Tonight? Uh - Elvis, I - Charlie said I should bring Ruth? Is that really ok? Is it safe?”

“Honey, I’m a black belt with a gun. Ain’t no safer place on earth. Hell, probably the safest place for your baby. You know how crime is getting in our cities. Bring her along. Charlie can babysit too, he’s basically a child himself. Got the brains a one, any how.”

Becky stood there, tapping her toe as her mind raced. Every bit of sense screamed at her not to meet Elvis on tour. She had just told Ida last week she was ready for her aunt fix her up with any nice single guys her age, in a conscious effort to try and get Elvis out of her system. Be a normal, responsible adult. Having, normal, responsible relationships. But now, talking to Elvis, all she wanted to do was give in and rush to be near him.

“Ok.” She whispered out.

“Good, good girl. I’m having Charlie run get Joe, fly ya out tonight. Go get ya self packed up.”

********************************

The Norfolk airport was pitch black when they landed, and if it weren’t for the lights along the landing strip, Becky may not have been able to make out Jerry’s scowl from across the tarmac.

“You shouldn’t have come.” His voice was clipped and terse as he grabbed her traveling bag, looking her up and down as she wobbled behind him in the high heel suede boots Elvis had bought her.

“Hello to you, too.”

“He said you were bringing your daughter, so at least you have some sense.”

Becky gulped as Jerry opened her door, and she flipped the sun visor down to fix her make up.

“Yeah, I guess… I um, changed my mind. I thought she would have a good time, but then, I don’t know,  I thought the schedule would throw her off. And I guess I don’t want her to get too attached to him. Or the idea of me and him. This is all just a little fun.”

Jerry looked over at her, his shoulders seemed to clench with his jaw as he drove

 “Fun. Ha. Well get ready, I think you’re in for more fun than you bargained for.”

Then Jerry pulled over, and his voice went from sarcastic to earnest as he turned off the car. “Or you can just say the word right now, and I’ll turn around, take you back, and you can catch a flight home. I’ll tell him you never showed.”

Jerry’s hopeful expression gave Becky a strange sense of foreboding and all the excited, giddy anticipation drained from her body.

“But Jerry - there are no direct flights to Jackson, and it’s midnight.” Her lip quivered as she pushed her lipstick back into its case.

“And I - I can’t afford to pay for a hotel and then all the connections I would have to make to get back home. Why are you acting like this? What happened?”

The drove under a streetlight, and Becky saw the bags under Jerry’s eyes more fully as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Elvis has been getting into it with the band all week. Kathy and two of the Sweet Inspirations stormed off the stage mid-show tonight cuz he was talking shit at them sideways.” Jerry looked over at Becky. “The big man can dish it out, but he cain’t take it. No sireee.”

He drew out his “sireeee” as he pulled the white Lincoln into a parking spot at the back of a hotel. Becky shifted back and forth during the elevator ride up, arms crossed in front of the white floral dress she had excitedly wiggled into with glee three hours ago, as Ida kissed her good luck, and Ruth had glowered,  asking again why she couldn’t come. Now she felt ridiculous. Ugh, why couldn’t she ever listen to the voice of reason in her head that told her something was a bad idea. Leaning against the cool metal of the elevator, Becky kicked Jerry’s shin and tried to keep her voice light, positive.

“Ok, so level with me. Why is he fighting with the band, he seemed fine when he called me earlier.”

Jerry stepped away, grimacing at her familiarity. “That is because he is the master manipulator, and he wants you to come keep him company. But the last few days he has been stoned out of his gourd. More than usual. Cuz he’s in pain from all the performances, cuz he’s tired, cuz he’s bored. And he does not want to be on tour.”

“Then why is he?”

Jerry sucked in his breath and held up his hand, and a look of sharp contempt framed his smile as he rubbed his thumb and his forefinger together.

“Money money money, Becky! Linda needs a bigger apartment in LA! Dr. Nick needs a new house! Joe’s swindled him into starting a racquetball club! And of course he needs a different, gold plated plane.”

Becky swiveled in front of Jerry, looking him square in the eye as they hit the twenty first floor and she stepped backwards into the hallway.

“And what about you, Jerry, are your needs being taken care of?”

Jerry shook his head, and a sharp chuckle escaped his lips while he hung back and threw Becky’s blue travel case at her feet.

“Hmmm. I reckon you gotta from here, Becky. He’s in the Presidential Suite. Just down the hall.” He looked away, stating in a matter of fact tone. “Have fun.”

Becky’s mouth dropped as she watched Jerry tilt his head to the side through the closing doors, his eyebrows arched in a challenge. The elevator clanged shut, and Becky steadied herself, then opened her purse, as if all of life's problems could be solved with a tissue or some lipstick. There was the paperback copy of The Hobbit at the bottom, the one she’d been reading to Ruth. The one Ruth had shoved in her hands at the last minute, demanding that she call home and read to her while she was away. Becky smiled, thinking of Ruth’s big brown eyes as her small, stubborn mouth announced that she would be telling the neighbor kids all about how her mom was going to meet Elvis at his concert, even as Becky begged her not to.

“I guess if one good thing comes out of this, it should be Ruthie one upping those Ledbetter brats.”

Becky dug around in her purse, and decided to pop a tic tac in her mouth, the mint was refreshing, it washed away the bad taste her conversation with Jerry had left in her mouth. Then Becky took a moment to look herself over in the mirror. Ida had helped her pin her hair half up in the front, and her floral, cotton dress hung down in a flattering way from the embroidered empire chest to hang loosely over her hips before stopping at her knees. The suede boots gave her some height, and she liked the fringe along the side, she liked the way she could feel it dangle as she walked. She just had to keep her balance and everything would be fine. Looking at herself in the mirror, she blew herself a kiss and took a deep breath. In a moment of inspiration, she broken off one of the yellow roses from the vase on the table, and pinned it into the side of her hair, then strode down the hall.

She pulled on the ring Elvis had given her, once more finding reassurance from rubbing the metal over her finger again and again. But her confidence faltered for a moment outside the suite when she heard the smash of something being flung and breaking against the wall, followed by stomping and shouting. Elvis-like shouting.

“Fired, they’re all FUCKING fired. ‘Cept Myrna, she’s the only one with any sense a loyalty or professionalism. I don’ care if them other bitches come back here, begging, BEGGING, on their knees for their jobs back. They revealed their true colors here tonight. It’ll be a cold day in HELL before I take ‘em back.”

The shouting paused, and Becky leaned into the door to try and hear what the chorus of male voices muttering indecipherably were saying, before a loud voice, deeper than the Mississippi delta, bellowed back.

“Nah. Nope. I ain’t apologizing for shit. They need to ‘apologize to me, Felton, for not bein’ able to take a  GODDAMN joke. There’s a hundred back up singers out there  starving fo’ work. Who’d slit their momma’s throats for a chance to sing with us. Why don’t you do YA job and go find me some a them? What the hell I pay ya for? ‘Sposed to be producin’ this show, go produce some back up singers.”

Becky’s excitement at seeing Elvis again had now been replaced by a tense ball of nerves shifting in her stomach. Suddenly the sound of footsteps came towards her, and she jumped back from the door just in time before three or four men pushed by where she stood back, sucking in her stomach and gripping the wall as she watched them trudge down the hallway. Then she turned to find Charlie at the door, looking at her as his face scrunched from unease into a wide grin.

“Why if it isn’t Becky from Birmingham. Whatcha doin’ hugging  the wall out here, Becky? Git in here, girl.”

Charlie stood back, and Becky braced herself as she entered the hotel room.

It was a mess, plates of half eaten food lined the table and bar, several of which had been flung against the wall, where mashed potatoes and gravy now dripped down the wallpaper onto pieces of broken porcelain on the carpet. Becky shivered, and then tried to compose herself as she looked around. There was Joe, smoking and pacing on the other side of the room, he turned when he saw her, unable to hide the disdain that grew on his face. She recognized Red and Lamar on the couch, Sonny hunched against the wall, but didn’t know the younger, skinnier guy with long brown hair.

Becky suddenly felt very awkward and out of place and brought her blue, vinyl travel bag up to her stomach where she could hug it for comfort. She smiled at Lamar as Charlie patted her back.

“You know the fellas, aintcha Becky?” She nodded, her walk stilted as she came further into the pent house. “The big guy just went to his room, but man are you a sight for sore eyes, he sure is gonna be glad to see you.”

Sonny let out a laugh, then stood up and walked towards her.

“I thought Jerry was picking you up?”

“He was, I mean he did, but I guess he - um - had other stuff to go do.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. By now I bet he’s kissed Myrna’s ass so hard his lips are glued to it.” Sonny rubbed his hands together, looking Becky up and down, and she hugged her bag harder at the resentment in his eyes as he went to pour himself a drink.

“Don’t pay him no mind, Becky, he woked up on the wrong side of the bed is all. For the last ten years.” Charlie laughed loudly at his own joke, as he guided Becky through the tense, silence of the living room towards the master bed room, where he knocked on the door to the old “Shave and a hair cut, two bits” pattern.

“I said to FUCK OFF.” Was the response, and Becky looked at Charlie imploringly.

“He seems - out of sorts. Maybe I shouldn't be here.”

Red snorted behind them, muttering under his breath that was one way to put it.  But Charlie shook his head, whispering.

“Nah, it’s jus been a rough night with some a the personnel.” This elicited another snort from Red, but Charlie continued, undeterred. “He wanted to know the second you got here, trust me.” Then Charlie cleared his throat, calling out.

“Hey boss, guess who is here? It’s lil ol Becky! Just in from Miss’ppi.”

“Well why the didn’t ya say that in the first place.”

The door flung open with a bang to reveal Elvis, still wearing the blue jumpsuit with the silver zebra pattern rising on either side of his chest. A matching zebra patterned belt was at his waist and his hands held an old fashioned looking quilt in patriotic red, white and blue around his shoulders, like the comfort blanky Ruth still slept with sometimes.

 Becky immediately dropped her bag and went to him, cupping his face with her hands as she looked up into his eyes. In spite of all the shouting, the gruff stance, he looked like a wounded puppy. She would whatever she could to take all the pain out of his eyes and hold him until he knew that everything was alright.

The side of her pinky crested against a taut choker, as she shook her head at the dark make-up smudged around his eyes. His lips pursed together at the center as he looked down sheepishly, like a little boy, biting his lip as his hands let the quilt drop to the floor and found her waist.

“Are you cold, Elvis?” She asked, looking at the quilt.

“What, oh that? Nah honey, someone gave it to me at the show and I like." He exhaled slowly through his nose. "Aww Becky, is it good to see you.”

Elvis picked her up and swung her around, bouncing her against his slight belly. His face lit up, and Becky could almost swear he wiped a tear from his eye as he placed her down and drew her into his side, walking her out to the living room.

“Now, this is what a good gal looks like, a loyal gal. Drop ev’ry thin when her man needs her. Man ‘o man, baby. You look like an angel, sent from heaven. How’d I get so lucky, have an angel come visit me, huh?” He grinned, looked at the others before kissing the top of her hair with gusto, so much so that his chin knocked the rose out of it, and then he accidentally stepped on it when he moved to pick it up. Elvis bent at his knees, wobbling as he tried to gathered up all the petals, his voice was high and babyish.

“Aw, no no no no. I’m sorry baby, I trampled all ova ya pretty flower.”

Then he dropped it an octave yelling forcefully.

“Charlie - boy, where’d that dumb ass go.” Before he had even finished uttering the words dumb ass, Charlie was there, chuckling as if Elvis and he were two frat boys yanking each other’s chain. Instead of master and trained dog, Becky mused, then pushed the thought from her mind.

“Charlie, run out and get Becky some fresh roses -”

Becky bent down next to Elvis on the carpet and stilled his hand to pull him back up, notching herself under Elvis shoulder as she turned to Charlie.

“Don’t you dare, Charlie. I just stole it on my way in, I can always go get another one.” Then she leaned up on her tippy toes and kissed Elvis’ cheek. “It’s a sweet thought, though. You’re sweet a sweet boy. Thanks for inviting me to join you, wished I hadn’t missed the show.”

Then she ran her fingers through the sweaty matted hair at his temple, stroked out the sticky hairspray that had kept his coiffed, high pompadour in place. Elvis’ blue eyes locked with hers and his whole body softened.

“S’ok, honey, probably all for the best. Was a sorry ass excuse for a show anyway.”

Becky trailed her fingers lower, over his chin and down along his chest hair.

“Impossible.” She whispered into the crease at his armpit, nuzzling her nose against the edge of his shoulder.

He didn’t even break eye contact as she looked back into his face as he lifted his right hand out and waved the guys off.

“Alright, boys, dismissed.”

Becky smooshed her face back into his armpit, rather than watch the parade of angry, middle aged men depart. Just before he left, she heard Charlie start to say good night and how nice it was to see her, when Elvis yelled for him to stop making eyes at Becky and go find his own gal.

Then they were alone. In a sea of dirty dishes, broken plates, rose petals and one coffee table that looked like it had been turned upside down. Unless it was some sort of new modern design, where you placed your coffee on the marble slab face down on ground.

Looking back up at Elvis, Becky didn’t know what  to say.  The screaming she had heard through the door had terrified her., yet looking at him now it seemed so clear how tired and how much pressure he felt. Jerry’s words rang in her ears, and they summoned all of Becky’s stupid, nurturing instincts. She began to pull off his scarf, peppering his chest with a few soft kisses to sooth the heart beat she heard, running as fast as a loose rail car thundering down a mountain.

Looking back up at his face, she licked her thumb, without consciously realizing what she was doing, and started to clean up his eye make-up, and he started to babble about the whole world going to hell. But he quieted as she shook her head, and gripped her hand tightly, shakily. Feeling him tremble, she remembered how exhausted he must be. So she paused and led him through the master suite and into bathroom, when she sat him on the toilet, stopped him again from protesting that he was fine, with a finger to his lips. Then she took a wet washcloth, and straddled his lap to clean his face.

Elvis grinned up at her, and when was done, he clasped both her hands in his and brought them forward to kiss her knuckles, his eyes level with her breasts. She let out a gasp at the way he sucked at her knuckles, before she shook herself free so she could reclaim her hand and undo his choker.

“What’s the matter, baby boy, hmmm? What’s all the fuss bout tonight, huh?”

She soothed his forehead with her fingers, cracking her neck as she steadied herself on his lap. The texture of his blue, gaberdine suit was soft underneath her bare thighs.

“Ah, nothing honey, jus the doggone back up singers can’t take a joke. Walked off in the middle of the set, make me look like a damn clown.”

Becky steadied herself.

“I find that hard to believe. Don’t look like a clown to me. If anything,” she begun to unzip his jumpsuit, her hands smoothing over the cool sweaty, hair she found there as she pushed against his belly. “If anything, they’re the ones who look foolish. Walking off like that.”

Elvis' lip hung down, just the slight hint of a double chin grew there, before they widened into a smile, pushing the apples of his cheeks up towards her.

“Ya sweet honey, ya know that? Wait, whatcha doin’ woman?”

Becky giggled as she pulled off his belt, and leaned into smell his chest.

“I am undressing you, Elvis Presley. Shower time.”

He tried to dismiss this idea with a wave of his hand.

“Honey, I don’t need a shower.”

“Oh yes you do.” Becky rubbed her hands under Elvis’ jumpsuit, trying to push it off his shoulders. “When was the last time you took a shower, you stinky boy.”

He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Uh, uh, uh -”

“Ha, if it is taking that long to answer, it has been tooo long.” She jumped up, and went to start the water. Elvis stood, bringing her back against the bathroom wall.

“Think you can come in here, and order me around, huh?” He smirked. “I like how I smell. Smell like a man. S'natural, s'way God made me.”

“Good little boys.” Becky worked her hands back under his suit. “Who take good little showers.” She got the fabric off the side of his shoulders. “Get good little rewards.”

He stilled her hands, enveloping her with his scent, a staunch mix of sweaty musk doused with a bottle or two of brut. Becky wrinkled her nose.

“And what about bad little boys who do what they want, huh?”

She threw her arms around his neck. “They get loved on until they learn to behave.” And she began to kiss his chest and neck with a swift barrage of pecks.

“Alright, alright crazy woman. What’s my reward, then, huh?”

Becky pulled her dress off with a speed that made Elvis' head spin, but before he could make a snarky remark, she bent over to take off her boots, and all he could do was stare at her bottom as she motioned for him to unclasp her bra.

“Your reward is me. In the shower. Washing you.”

Becky giggled self consciously as she took Elvis’ hands and drew him into the shower. She didn’t know where her chutzpah had come from, all she knew was that when she was with him, she was a woman transformed. Her walls came down, and she wanted to be as close as possible to him, do whatever she could to put him at ease. Being around Elvis had warped her entire way of thinking.

The way his smirk rippled across his cheeks as he watched her lather up a wash cloth and start scrubbing over his hair chest made her tummy feel funny. Like she was about to jump off a diving board. She watched the soap drizzled down over his waist and down his happy trail. Becky swallowed hard, unable to stop herself from rubbing over it with her hand and wiping the soap into different shapes around his belly button. A triangle, a circle, a heart.

Elvis chuckled as he squeezed his eyes shut under the water, letting it rinse everything off as he muttered that she was a weirdo. Then he took the wash cloth from her hands and spread the lather over the top of her breasts. Back and forth, as if mesmerized. His attentive gaze made her vibrate, and Becky’s nipples became hard nubs. She pushed his hand aside, stepping close to rub the soap from her bosom against him, playfully.

“I think they’re clean.”

“Never can be too sure.” He pulled her closer, nudging his nose over hers as he took the washcloth back and began to caress her butt. “Just bein’ thorough. Wanna a get all my reward.”

“Your reward was me washing you, not the other way around.”

Elvis winked. “I’m renegotiatin’.” And he carefully turned Becky around so that she was leaning into the shower wall, while he slowly moved the washcloth over her shoulder blades, the small of her back, her bottom cheeks and the backs of her legs. His movements were so soft and tender, that they made all the thoughts drain from Becky’s head with the water. Her knees turned into jelly.  And all she knew was the warm sensation vibrating up her spine and tingling between her legs.

It was 3:45 am when they finally collapsed into the master suite’s large, king bed in matching pajamas. Becky could rest assured that every part of her body was clean, and while she hadn’t scrubbed him behind his ears, she had done her best with Elvis.

He had taken the cute, sexy pink fluffy negligee she had brought to sleep in from her hands, and thrown it in the trash, reiterating that just because they were on the road, they were never safe from commie drug dealers. Arsonists. Assassins. Any number of dangerous threats that could result in an instant need to evacuate the hotel.

“Trust me, Becky, you’ll be greatful ya wearing something decent if that happens.”

Becky rolled her eyes, saying to herself that Elvis was worse than her grandmother. But she obliged and reasoned that Elvis’ pajamas were probably more comfortable than the gauzy peignoir she had brought. The she settled back, watching him take his medication from the black, doctor’s bag, before folding her arms around him when he snuggled up and lay his head on her breasts,  murmuring to her in a low, babying tone.

“Aw Becky, don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t come.”

She stroked his soft, dyed hair, shhhing him as she smiled to her self at the hint of grey she saw at the peak of his right side burn.

“You’d be fine, you always are.”

“Nah, honey, none a these fools love me for who I really am. None of them would be here if it weren’t for the money.”

“That’s not true, your friends love you. They’ve known you all your life.”

“Nah uh, they don’t, baby. No one loves me. You might be the only one in the whole world who doesn’t want anything from me. Won’t take my goddamn money, even when I mean it as a gift. Because I do love givin’ gifts.”

Becky trailed her fingers across Elvis’ forehead, enjoying the way his warm skin felt under her knuckles. “I know you do. You really do.”

“But no one appreciates it, they just want more. Won’t be happy til they suck me dry. Ugh, I don’t know if I can even sleep, so keyed up about the band.”

Becky kissed his forehead, as an idea percolated, and she rose from the bed to grab The Hobbit from her purse.

“Here, why don’t I read to you, take your mind off things?”

Elvis’ took the book ins hand. “This the book Spock was singing about?”

Becky giggled, thinking of Leonard Nimoy’s record few years back. “I believe the song you are referring to is ‘The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins.’ And yes, it was inspired by this book. But I know you've heard of The Hobbit, Elvis. Have you ever read it?”

Elvis shook his head, but before he could protest that he didn’t read children's books, she brought his head back to her bosom and began reading it, doing the voices the same way she did with Ruth. They passed out at some point in the “Roast Mutton” chapter,  after pausing from time to time debating what their hobbit names would be.

“I think you are probably too tall to be a hobbit, Elvis, probably more an elf. Your name is practically the same as their language.”

“Well, that don’t make sense, no one names their kid after a language. English. Spanish. This is ma son, German. So then, what do you ’spose my elf name would be?”

Becky yawned. “I guess that will be our proooooject over the next few days, figure out what our hobbit and elf names are.”

“Guesss sooooooo.” Elvis yawned back.

**********************************************************

Becky found her paperback copy of The Hobbit open and smashed between them where Elvis had fallen asleep with his head on top of her chest. Several pages were bent back, and she tried to get them straight by bending them the other way, before deciding to put the lamp on top of it with the hope it would weigh them back into place. The room was still so dark, it surprised her to see that the clock read one p.m. It had been five or six when they passed out, and Becky could hardly believe how quickly she adapted back to Elvis’ schedule.

Looking down at him, she returned to cuddle into him, thinking how sweet he looked with his mouth wide open, asleep, completely unperturbed about the weight of the world that he carried on his shoulders. Then, as she shimmied her legs next to his, she felt the distinct, outline of an erect penis. I guess he slept well, she thought, and suddenly felt an aching tingle light up between her legs and a naughty thought enter her mind. Becky bit her lip, wondering how to wake him up without making it obvious. She began to nestle her knee into his cock, then blow air over his eyelids, faintly at first as she watched his long eyelashes flutter and waited to see if it woke him. When he remained asleep, she blew harder, emptying her lungs, until she saw his eyelids move and he opened one eye, with a blank, confused, slightly drugged out stare. This prompted her to plop back, not so stealthily, and pretend to be asleep herself. She also stopped moving her knee over his penis. Sleeping people don’t do that.

“Ha, now watcha think ya doin, Becky Butt?”

Elvis narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. A chuckled escaped Becky’s mouth, and her hand replaced her knee to slowly sweep over the outline of Elvis’ length, teasing his tip with the swirl of her thumb. Elvis seemed to instinctively move back up against the pillows, while also trying half-heartedly to swat away her hands from his pajama bottoms as she moved her head to his crotch.

“Now, honey, you’re a good girl, good girls don’t do that.”

Becky pulled at his waist, leaning down to nuzzle against the silk over his thigh, looking up and batting her lashes.

“Baby, you’ve been so stressed out, this tour got you all worked up. I’m just trying to help you relax and clear your head, so you can figure out what you want to do about your band.”

Elvis released her hands from where he had stopped them at his pants, and flopped back against the head board, resigned and moaning as her hand feathered over him. He closed his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling and muttered, “Lord have mercy. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

Becky did a wiggly, little triumphant dance as Elvis shook his head, grinning as she pulled his pants down and very slowly and reverently bent down to kiss the tip, savoring the way his breath became heavier as she did. He bit his lip watching her look at him as she swirled her tongue around his foreskin where it now crested back above the head. In a leisurely, affectionate way, she moved her tongue hesitantly around him, using one hand to loosely palm up and down his shaft as she sucked the tip once more. Kissing it delicately, relishing how sensitive he was, how even just moving her mouth down an inch made his leg jolt. She laughed onto his cock when his knee knocked her head, and she looked up to see a warm, boyish smile beaming back down at her.

“Hey now, be gentle with him. He's, uh, he's, ughhhh, he's shy.”

Becky smiled as best she could up at him with a penis in her mouth, and worked to just move along the end of the foreskin to the top of the head, waiting as he moved her hair to guide her forward. His gasps sent a sharp ping to her core and Becky realized that the sound of Elvis’ hushed pleasure was like an aphrodisiac that she wanted to chase. And chase it she did, hollowing her cheeks to bob further down, seeing how far she could go with out gagging, seeing what happened when his tip hit the back of her throat, savoring the feeling of how it almost choked her.

His mouth now hung open, and he let out a loud moan as she delved deeper with the next thrust. Looking, she saw that his eyes were squeezed shut  and his mouth hung open, the bottom lip shaking tremulously as she began to speed up her tempo, following her mouth with her hand and breathing through her nose as she tried not to gag when she plunged downward. Then she felt Elvis grip her hair with a tight fist.

“Ah honey, oh Becky, oh honey, Imma about to burst!”

She watched his face contort as she nodded her acquiescence and continued to move her mouth over him, possessing him and at the same time giving herself to him as he arched his back up into her and came with a loud, breathy, high pitched cry. He was tangy, and salty, and she looked at him with a seductive wink as she flipped her hair and tried to swallow it all, before gagging and coughing most of it out of the side of her mouth and onto the duvet. This performance was followed by loud belly laughs from both parties as Becky rolled over in a fit of giggles at her clumsy attempt to be sexy. She hid under the pillows and blushed when Elvis moved over, threw the pillow away, and pulled her onto him with a goofy smile.

“Ya sure are sumpthin', Becky Butt. Man ‘o’ man." He sighed, stroking her shoulder. "Haven’t done anything like that in a while. Prolly since last time I saw you.”

“Elvis, you don’t have to lie to me, I see the photos of you with your other girlfriends on tour.”

He sucked in a deep breath, taking her chin to look up at him.

“You mean that girl I invited on tour after you turned me down? Honey, she don’t mean a thing, just someone to keep the bed warm. Wasn’t getting busy with her, tell you that.”

Becky arched her eye. “Really?”

“Mmmmhmmm. She is pretty, but she don't turn me on, not like you, baby. You’re my little snake charmer, member? And man, honey, every time too. Something special bout you. Gonna need you to come on the rest of the tour with me." His arm dropped, and his eyebrows furrowed and Becky realized he must be thinking about the tour. "Fuck, man, gotta figure out what to do bout these singers, goddammit. I don really wanna train new gals to sing, with only a few nights left.”

Becky patted his arm. “So don’t. Just apologize.”

A nervous squeak escaped her throat when she saw his lips purse and his eyes narrow in disbelief at her suggestion.

“You don’t have to mean it! I believe you were right, they are being bitches. Baby, trust me, you know how singers can be, premadonnas. And they are women. You can’t win with us. But you can know in your heart that you were joking, and also do what needs to be done to keep the show going by mending fences. S’easier to catch more flies with honey, E.”

Becky felt like a traitor to her fellow womankind, as she felt fairly certain that whatever had happened, the back up singers probably had every right to be upset. But the end justified the means, right? Her reasoning seemed to have some effect, as Elvis' pinched lips released and he grunted.

She watched as he looked at her, and repeated "easier to catch more flies with honey" in a high, mocking voice, while he rolled over and picked up the phone, asking the operator for Joe’s room. “Get Lowell on a plane, tell him to bring everything in the store. I don’t care, jack, do you work for my daddy? No, that’s what I thought, huh. Yeah, Imma have Felton take it all over to the girls, to everyone, tell them I know things got outta hand this week, let’s leave it in the past. Oh, and I wanna get Myrna a new Caddy, so she knows what loyalty means to me.”

Elvis was patting Becky’s thigh as he did this, his fingers playing a rhythm only he knew. But it made Becky feel special, needed, close to him, and she found a strange contentment just being there, receiving the song his body was tapping out. After he hung up, he called room service and asked them to send two of everything from the breakfast menu, explaining he didn’t care if it was 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

“Ever been Asheville, ha, honey?”

“MMmhmmm. No, can't say I have. Guess we'll have a few days there to figure out what our hobbitses names are.”

“Already know what your’s is. Becky Bobbit.” He grinned wide at her quizzical face. “Cuz you bobbit so good on my nobbit.”

Becky hit him as he burst into a fit of giggles. “Dirty, nasty, mean man.”

“Awww, honey, s’compliment. Wanna keep you round with me always, my lil bobbit hobbit.”

“Ha.”

“Comin’ to Memphis after the tour?”

“Elvis - I -”

“I thought we were talkin’ bout getting you moved up there. You will love it."           

“I will hate it.”

“Nah, you won’t.”

“Hmmm, you might be sick of me after the next few days.”

Elvis squeezed his arm around her tighter, looking down at the stain on the duvet, and then back at her with a silly smile.

“Nah, I won’t.”

***************************************************

For fun...

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[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

The Art of obsession.

Pairing: Austin!Elvis x reader

Summary: When you decided to be a preschool teacher you didn't know you would be teaching the famous Alpha Celebrity Elvis Presley's daughter Lisa Marie Presley. What you didn't know was that it would take a twisted turn when you got to know the 'Alpha' himself more and soon start to think you shouldn't have met him in the first place. (@galaxygirl453 )

Warnings: Manipulation, Gas lighting, Guilt tripping, Forced marriage, Drugging, Delusional/Obsessed Austin!Elvis, Baby trapping, Breeding kink, Forced marking, Creampie, dinner room sex, At school sex, Dirty talk, Housewife kink, Praise, Cock warming, Bullying, Pregnancy, and Pregnancy sex, Gorely murder.

A/n: So the anon who requested this, I hope you like it.

Elvis only could hear the clicking of his dress shoes against the preschool's tile, his thoughts grow wild. While he was at home, practicing with some of the Memphis Mafia in The Jungle Room, he got a call from the principal that Lias Marie had gotten into a fight, his Lisa? He knew it was hard for Lisa Marie to go through the change of having divorce parents but she wouldn't fight another kid, would she? No, she wouldn't. Elvis closed his eyes and took a calming breath in and opened the door.

"Ah! Mr. Presley, there you are." the principal exclaimed mockingly, a sarcastic smile on his wrinkled, chubby face "What happened?" Elvis asked as he sat beside a sniffling Lisa, putting a hand on her tiny back, quietly comforting her "Lisa Marie attacked a little boy, while they were playing. If I were you I'd discipline her better." the old white-haired man practically snarled, Elvis could feel his blood boil, his wolf growling and ready to protect his little pup. Elvis opened his mouth to reply when the door swing open and the scent so luring filled his sense of smell, Rose & honey with a hint of firewood, his ocean orbs snapped to the source.

"Miss. (L/N)!" The principal called out but you ignored him, and simply squatted down in front of Lisa "Are you, okay sweetheart? I heard what happened." you gently cooed to Lisa wiping away her tears, Elvis's heartbeat quickened as he stared at you in awe, his body heat raised and ringing filed his ear, it was getting hard to breathe, everything in his body screamed to be yours, your omega but you wasn't an alpha, you couldn't be, you don't act like one, plus he worked so hard to be an 'Alpha' to lose it. Elvis breathed in and thanked God for his dark shades that helped conceive his emotion. "Miss. (L/n) this is a private meeting." you stood and turned to your boss, with a warm smile that didn't reach your eyes " With all due respect, sir, We both know Bobby Field likes to push around others, it's quite boggling to me that little Lisa Marie is here instead of him" the elder man opened his mouth to speak, but you continued "I get that you might be jealous of Mr. Presley's effect on your new 'wife' but we should not take it on the children Mr. Dryier." The beta man in question looked away in shame "Leave me." the beta waved his hand dismissing him, Lisa, and Miss.(L/n). They wasted no time leaving the stuffy office and into the hallway.

"You alright little Marie?" Miss (L/n) asked bending down and smiling down at his daughter "'m alright." Lisa nodded to you and wiped her puffy face from the tears in her eyes, wearing a cute tiny pout that made her teacher giggle softly, to Elvis it was like the sound of Angels singing and joyful bells ringing, his heartbeat once again raced just a little. You stood up, turning to him with your warm and soft smile, and he swear his heart skipped a beat, his body heat raised hotter than before, suddenly his throat felt dry and he felt like he was hardly breathing, his wolf begging and whimpering for his Alpha "Thank you, for doin' that." Elvis managed to spit out, with a fax confidence smirk even though a raging storm of emotion waved its course within him, "Your welcome. I just hate when adults are petty and mistreat children." you huffed before a smile was back on your face " I'm (Y/N) (L/n), it's a pleasure to meet THE Elvis Presley." you held out your hand that he gladly took, electricity ride up his spine and a groan tried to force it's way out his lips, he suddenly needed to fuck, to breed you, the want became almost unbearable. Elvis gulped before speaking "Pleasure all mine, darlin'" You shake his hand "Well it's time for me and Marie to head to class, recess is over." you said taking his little girl's hand, waved at him, and walked off.

Once you were out of sight, Elvis rushed out of the school and drove to Graceland, with the pain going through his veins, body screaming for release. His back laid against his comfortable mattress, clothes on the floor, and his cock in his hand, pumping fast, pre-cum leaking out and over his hand, his hips jerking into his fist, wishing it was your pussy, He cummed with a whimper and whine.

That was the best orgasm, Elvis had ever experienced, he didn't cum that hard even with Priscilla.

He wanted you, wanted you to be his, by God, you will be, whether you want that or not, he decided you'd be his alpha, no matter the costs. He didn't put his plan into action until a month later, he convinced the principal to have you tutor Lisa at Graceland when you had the time, after all every man had a price. It was a Tuesday when he acted, it was a sunny day and you came exactly the same time you always have, a bright smile and warmth in your eyes as he opened the door "How are you today Mr. Presley?" you asked walking into the beautiful mansion "Doin' just fine." Elvis smiled back and locked the door behind him, actually, he was more than fine, he was excited, he got off his suppressants and stopped wearing his mask scents, and he was going into heat, no alpha couldn't resist an omega in heat, not a sweet little alpha like you. "So where is little Marie?" you questioned looking for her, normal the little girl would come running to greet you, "Goddamn, I forget to tell ya she's at her mother's. I'm sorry darlin'," he said "It's okay I can just go." "You sure? The drive here is at least 2 hours, would ya like a drink?" Elvis asked, gently guiding you to the dining room "I could go for some coke." you smile softly as you sat in a chair at the large dining table "Great, just relax darlin' I'll get yar coke."

Elvis walked into the kitchen, grabbed two coke bottles, and pulled out a set of different quickly, tasteless dissolving drugs, one to enhance your instinct and one to trigger his heat, dropping each drug in your respective drinks, he brought and sat your coke in front of you, before sitting across of you, taking a sip of his coke "So how was school?" Elvis asked leaning back in his seat, "It was okay, the kids were a little—" you trailed off, once a temping scent filled the air, The smell of fresh morning due and lavender sage, your eyes meet Elvis's when a pained whimper left the omega, wait omega? He usually smelled like another alpha, that of Sandalwood and vanilla, he was a beautiful sight, his normal ocean orbs were hard to see, his pupils so dilated he was breathing heavily and sweat begin to make his skin shine. A strong want for, no need to have this omega, ride him until he begs you to stop, your eyes dilated as you stood up and walked to him "Get up." you order and like a good boy he did what he was told "Such good omega" you cooed " your reward." you said before pulling the godly of a man into dominating and passionate kiss, tongues swirling each other and your hands worked on removing his black half unbutton blouse. You both parted Breathing heavily as you remove his blouse and he was working to remove his pants "Such a gorgeous Alpha and gonna take care of me? Huh, darlin'?" he teased, kissing your neck before taking off his pants and lifted himself onto the table, his cock stood tall, your mouth watering and your pussy became slick. You crawled over him and lined his cock with your weeping core and slowly descended upon him, and immediately started to ride him it's been so long since you had sex nevertheless, you couldn't believe your luck a male Omega they're is so rare as Alpha females, you throw your head back, and rolled your hips sharply causing a pretty gasp and moan from the men below you.

His large hands quickly gripped your hips, moans, and whines left his pink lips, his Raven hair stuck to his forehead, and his eyes lidded, desperate, you bounced faster and leaned down to kiss him, not once stopping. His scent filled your nose and lungs like a drug, your kisses strayed from his lips to his neck, and a sudden desire, temptation, want, set your body ablaze, a want to mark, claim this man, his hand held your head to his neck, and his arm throw over your waist, holding you as you bounce. His scent became deliciously overwhelming and you bit down on his neck, staking your claim. Elvis gasped, it worked! He flipped you both, your back on the warm smooth wood as you licked up the blood and the bite with your healing saliva, Elvis pounded into you with a strong punishing rhythm, each thrust from his skilled hips, would push your hips against the table and his cock reached your sweet spot like no, Alpha or beta never had, the sexy growls and huffs leave the rock and roll king brought you closer to your climax "T-That's it! Cum, cum on this cock lil Darlin'! Goddamn, I'm close!" Elvis panted, his already fast thrusting turn frantic, and with a rub against your little nub, you came with a scream, Elvis not far after, with a groan he came, painting your walls and womb white with his seed. it took you a minute to realize what happened, you forcefully claimed him, and your widen eyes snapped to Elvis who was tracing the mark with shock and terror on his face "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to.." you trailed off as guilt set heavily into your chest "I'm ruined.." Elvis whispered, pacing in front of you "What can I do?" you begged "There's nothing you can do." he said, his back turned to you, a sinister smirk on his lips, it really was working, you were going to his. "Please there must be something?" you plead more desperately "Move in here and marry me, people will think it was consensual and you will be able to keep your job. We'll say we kept our relationship secret" Elvis turned to look at you, his eyes holding a strange gleam but you were too much in turmoil to notice "O-Oh Okay." you shakily nodded.

You sighed as you struggle to get out of bed with your 8 months baby bump, your husband sound asleep, it was a rare sight to see, he laid on his stomach, his head on his arm, his lips parted in silent snores, his jet black a mess on his forehead, he was it was gorgeous even if he was asleep, 'no fair' you chuckled and bend down as best as you could, kissed his forehead and walked into the bathroom and got ready for work, it had been a year since that, and it wasn't bad being married to the rock star, sure he had his moments, but he treated you well and you have grown to even love the man. Though you could go without the bursts of anger and possessiveness, it was worse when your ex came around which happened more often than not, he works at the same school you did, and now that you think about Elvis acted more than an alpha than you did sometimes, You yawned as stretched your arms, it was lunch time so the little pups went to the cafeteria. you were about to reach for your lunch when a knock on your classroom door made you sharply inhale, feeling irritation enter your system you took a calm breath then smiled "Come in." you spoke calmly and your husband strutted in with a small smile "How're my girls?" Elvis asked taking off his famous shades and hooking them on his belt "We're doing alright." your smile turned genuine "What are you doing here?" you asked as he leaned against your desk, looking at you with the same loving and devoted look in his eyes when never he looked at you, his smile tugged into a smirk at your question, his orbs was overcome with lust. "I came to check on you and the babies. God..you smell so good."

'Oh' you thought as heat rushed into your body, it had got clearer, the closer you got into your pregnancy, you hungered for sex more, and seeing the predatory lust-driven glint didn't help, you could feel the Alpha purr inside of you, she was pleased, happy to have such a doting omega to take care of her and your needs. Elvis rushed to sweep everything off your desk and helped you upon it, lips locked in a passionate kiss as you slowly leaned down onto the light brown desk, Elvis's fingers hooked onto your underwear and slide them off from under your sundress, your core already slick ready to take your omega he fumbled with unbuckled his belt and unzipping his pants, letting out small whimpers of want. "Shh it's okay omega, your Alpha is here" you purred, eyes blew out as he slowly slid into your pussy despite everything in him wanting to slam into you, his thrusts were slow but precise at first, trying so hard to be gentle, in control but it was slipping as he pounded faster, the poor old desk creaked under the pressure. The classroom echoes your lewd moans and the arousing sound of skin smacking against the skin, and your wet pussy taking a beating.

You whined as Elvis whispered sweet nothing, his pubic bone smacking against your clit, your eyes drifted into the small rectangle window of your classroom door, a set of brown tearful orbs looked back at yours; your ex Joseph a hurt expression plastered on his face but you couldn't find it in you to care while you were being fucked dumb, you grabbed Elvis's face and pulled him into a kiss of swirling tongues, your hips bucking upwards to your husbands hammering, the band in your stomach coming closer to snapping a sharp thrust had you coming, you left out a satisfied sigh as he finished inside. Your eyes looked to the window once again, Joseph was gone and a tiny feeling of guilt wash over you.

Elvis helped you down, helped cleaned up, and organize your desk, he stayed with you for the rest of your break, and the room was filled with laughter and talking. He left as the bell ranged not before leaving with a kiss and that was the last time he really spend time with you.

You were on your 9th month and at home, Elvis and you had agreed you were too close to your due date to work, so you just cooked and cleaned around the house. He was as always at his Studio, hanging out and recording songs with the Memphis Mafia when he got home he would just kiss you on the lips and Lisa Marie on her cheeks before doing his own thing. Today you decided to clean some of the rooms downstairs, you just finished one and were heading to the other when something catch your eye, the door that was normally locked was open just a slit, like a cat that was killed by curiosity, you completely open the door and a set of stairs lead down into the poorly lit room. You grip the metal rails as you take cautious steps can you pause once you smell stench so horrible like something was rotting? You watched as your feet bit the bottom step and when you finally looked up a gasp of pure horror left you. Dried blood splattered everywhere, bits and pieces of Flesh ran across the floors and walls as if an animal ripped apart its prey not caring where the pieces landed, and a ripped leg enters your vision, your eyes traced up, and what you saw would haunt you as bile rises up your throat. A man's body slumps against the back wall, his left arm cut off, and laying beside his thigh, his jaw hangs open, some teeth missing and his other leg gone, what you assume it was the bits of rotting flesh scattered around. A familiar scent entered your nose beneath the rotting corpse, Seabreeze vanilla, and coconut... Joseph. A chill climbed its way up your spine and tears build up in your orbs then another scent enters your nose and your blood runs ice cold.

"Tsk, such a bad alpha." a voice mocked you in the Stillness of this horror, your head snaps up at the top of the stairs, and your 'innocent' husband looks down at you coldly, eyes glowing blue as he leans against the doorframe

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"You're afraid? Good, you should be."

(@galaxygirl453)

#elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis smut #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #elvis 2022 #yandere!elvis x reader #austin elvis imagine #yandere austin butler x reader

[hooked-on-elvis]

ELVIS USES THE 'F' WORD DURING A CONCERT 🤬

PICTURE: Elvis performing live at the Hilton (International) Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada, on August 30, 1974 (Midnight concert, 12:00 a.m.).

Elvis Presley was humble and kind to everyone, everyone — even the ones who demonstrated not being keen to his music or holding prejudices against him, something he usually took it in a stride, showing his understanding and mature side when comprehending it was only their right not to appreciate his music or performance, therefore he didn't hold resentment for his haters/detractors or took it personally in any way, but Elvis wasn't cold blooded and sometimes he snapped back at the rude and mean people that crossed his way showing extremely senseless hate to him.

On August 30, 1974, Elvis was performing in Las Vegas at the Hilton International Hotel. It was his second show at the night (Midnight concert). Out of the blue, while Elvis talking to the audience and getting ready to sing another tune, a fan lady in the audience screamed 'I love you Elvis'. Elvis kindly replied, 'I love you too, sweetheart', and then another person said something to him (inaudible in the recorded material) to which we can hear Elvis replying, 'Well, I don't take that for granted'.

Suddenly, right following this endearing moment between a music idol and his fans, a smart-ass in the audience, probably trying to make Presley uncomfortable or just intending to call some attention for himself, shouted, 'I HATE YOU, ELVIS'. Without even thinking twice, Elvis immediately snapped: 'FUCK YOU.'

Elvis, who was in a great mood, very talkative throughout the concert, cracking jokes and even demonstrating some karate moves at some points, surely wasn't up to go on with that distasteful situation any longer, depriving his fans of some more valuable and joyful moments of his performance, so, without waiting for any kind of reaction from the unwelcome hater, Elvis begins singing 'An American Trilogy' and the show went on as smooth as if nothing of that nature had ever happened.

I wonder if the guy left the showroom or not. Probably he didn't.

Not much time later, Elvis can be heard laughing and then saying, "Just kidding" still in the middle of the "An American Trilogy" performance. I'm sure Elvis didn't feel proud of what happened in the way he responded the "fan" because he knew this could leave a permanent impression on this person. His (somewhat) apologize was not a matter of "damage control" concerning Elvis' image as a performer, in my opinion, but the will not to let that person go home feeling mistreated by him. Elvis was sensitive to other people's feelings. His close friends have said many times how El could be pissed off at someone, act impulsively in his anger but then immediately regret it afterwards and apologize the best way he found suitable. As I said, Presley never treated fans, who took their time to watch his live performances, in that manner but he just couldn't help feeling upset by that guy's bothering remark and that's completely forgivable - even because some of us would have done even worse in his place, if we can be honest with ourselves. As it seems, EP probably regretted the impulsive reply, but the guy totally asked for it.

This snippet is from a concert in Las Vegas, on August 30th 1974. The moment happened right after he finished singing 'Hound Dog'. You can hear the FULL CONCERT HERE (that moment begins at 35:23).

I recommend you to listen to the full concert. There's many great moments of Elvis on stage that day. One of the nicest things, right at the end of the concert, is when Elvis tells the audience that Dean Nichopoulos (son of his doctor, George Nichopoulos) is in the audience. Elvis tells them that Dean requested for him to perform 'Suspicious Mind', to what he shares with the audience that he would but under one condition. He made a deal with Dean that, if he sang the song, the boy would have to workout in Memphis at the karate dojo there, every day starting from the moment they went back to Memphis after the engagement was over.

This is the friend Elvis was. He wanted the best for the ones he cared for. 🥹⚡ Can we have any more doubt on why his friends and coworkers and all the fans talk so highly on Elvis since always? It is not exclusively because of who he was as a performer, much less because of any favors granted them over the years too. It happens simply because of who Elvis was as a human being and how special and loved he made people feel whenever he was near. Precious boy! My heart can't stand the amount of love and appreciation I have for Elvis, seriously. He was not only one of the greatest performers the world has ever seen. He was one of the precious souls to ever walked the earth - a faulted man at times, but a great human being, a figure of love, generosity, compassion, loyalty, true friendship and so much more. God bless his soul. 💙

LIVE ALBUM 'Elvis: Night Fever in Vegas'. Release: 1997. Recording Type: Live Soundboard Recording. Location: Las Vegas, Nevada. Date: August 30 - 1974, Midnight Show.

CLARIFICATION ON THE LIVE ALBUM COVER PICTURE — 'Elvis: Night Fever in Vegas', released in 1997.

Looking for pictures of that August 30, 1974 concert, I found Elvis wearing different suits. I was so confused on which one was the right picture from that concert that I had to do some research, otherwise I wouldn't be in peace. Here's what I found, I hope it can help clarify some fans too.

At the concert that moment happened, Elvis was not dressed as the cover from the live album shows. He was dressed in the Two-toned Wine Glass Leather Two-piece suit (picture above is from the actual concert on August 30, 1974 - Midnight concert). For the dinner concert earlier that night (8:15 p.m.) he wore the Emperor Beige Leather Two-piece suit. On the live concert album cover released in 1997, is a picture of Elvis dressed in the Chinese Dragon suit, first worn during the latter part of the 1974 August/September Las Vegas engagement. To be exact he wore the Dragon suit for the first time on September 2, 1974, therefore that picture used as a cover to the live album with the recorded August 30, 1974 concert can be either from September 2, 1974 or from one of the next Vegas engagement concerts when he wore the Chinese Dragon suit again (September/October 1974).

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SOURCES ⚡

For last, I'd like to thank/mention www.elvisconcerts.com for being a precious source of enlightenment on Elvis' concerts dates and the suits worn by him, with their amazing index on the website. It helps me A LOT getting the accurate info for the pictures of Elvis onstage (1969-1977) that I share in my posts. Other sources for the info on this post were: elvisoncd.com [concert setlist], Pinterest [pictures], Youtube [ELVIS WORLD and J.R. The King of London (Channel 2) [recorded concert].

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis history #70s elvis #las vegas #elvis in vegas #1974 #1974 rock and roll #rock and roll history #rock and roll heroes #Youtube

[vintageshanny]

I See You

A poem celebrating the humanity and beautiful heart of a man who gave us so much. ❤️

A special thank you to my lovely friend @whositmcwhatsit for once pondering if Elvis had anyone in his life who saw him the way he saw other people - intuitively seeing them to their core and accepting them fully. This made me think about the ways I can express to Elvis how intrinsically worthy he is as a human being, how I’m not here to judge him, but just love and accept all parts of his humanity and thank him for sharing his beautiful gift. ❤️

When tragedy first struck before you’d ever had your first cry

I see the lifelong search you had to find the reasons why

When childhood was made difficult by poverty and strife

I see how you vowed to give your loved ones a better life

When fame and fortune brought along so many critics overnight

I see your determination not to let anyone dim your light

When your beloved mama passed and you realized things would never be the same

I see the strength it took to carry on in spite of all the pain

When disillusionment came full force and your career began to stall

I see the way you continued to give the fans your all

When the frustration grew too much and your temper flared with all its might

I see how you’d apologize and try to make things right

When temptations came along and led you in the wrong direction

I see your lonely heart was searching for a deep connection

When critics made jokes and insulted your changing looks and weight

I see the way you refused to allow yourself to be consumed with hate

When nothing was able to provide the relief you so desperately needed

I see how you kept on singing and wishing not to be defeated

Since your beautiful soul slipped beyond the confines of this earth

I hope that you can see how much we love you for all you are worth

@missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @thatbanditqueen @from-memphis-with-love @peskybedtime @arrolyn1114 @lookingforrainbows

#elvis #Elvis poetry #i love this man

[ellie-24]

USS Randall Ramblers Part 5

Writing prompt: "You will love it." "I will hate it." "Nah, you won't."

Thank you to @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @vintageshanny @whositmcwhatsit @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love @shakerattlescroll @peskybedtime @arrolyn1114 @powerofelvis who make writing so much more fun and inspire me with their talent.

Word count: 4.6 k

Previous part

Bad Nauheim, December 22nd 1958

Mary woke up with a start and blinked. For a second she didn't quite know where she was, darkness surrounding her. But a very familiar scent and the strong heartbeat under her cheek quickly made her realise. She shuddered as his hand slowly rubbed along her back, gently caressing her bare skin. The feeling of his calloused fingertips roaming over her body instantly reminded her of the intimate moments they'd shared a few hours earlier.

In an attempt to ease some of the the ache she suddenly felt again as the memories flooded her she pressed her legs together, letting herself sink into the feeling of being so close to him. Goosebumps rose all over her body as she recalled the moment he brought her over the edge over and over again. He must've thought she was cold as he pulled the blanket covering them over her body, up to her shoulders. The sweet sentiment and the tickling sensation of his chest hair against her nose made her grin.

"Cherry? You awake?" He then whispered, having noticed her moving and smiling against him.

Mary jumped slightly when she heard his voice so close to her ear and stretched out her legs. "Uh-huh." She uttered, her voice raspy from sleep. "Is it morning?" She asked, mid-yawn.

He shifted. "S'night."

Mary raised her head from his chest and smiled softly at him, before gently nudging her nose against his. "Then why are we up?"

He didn't respond, his hand still rubbing along her back. Mary squinted her eyes at him and noticed the exhaustion and tiredness on his face. His body however seemed agititated, his hands and feet moving relentlessly below the blanket that covered both of them.

Her gaze flitted over to the orange pill bottle still on his night stand before looking back at him. When she looked back at him she tried her best to look as unassuming as possible.

"Have you been awake the entire time?" She asked carefully.

Still no answer.

She gently caressed his cheek and leaned over to press a soft kiss against his lips, which he hesitantly returned. "E, what is it?"

"Nothin', baby."

With a shake of her head she pointed her finger at him accusingly. "No, not this time. Tell me what's going on, please."

He craned his neck to kiss her finger with a sweet smile, his dark eyes boring into hers. She quickly withdrew her hand before his soft, loving touch would transform her into a compliant puddle again, only capable of nodding yes. Judging by the now rather smug look on his face he was very well aware of the effect he had on her.

In an attempt to break the tension between them she cleared her throat and decidedly held his gaze with a serious expression. "You're upset about something. Since the party." She insisted and watched his expression crumble for a second before he regained his composure and shook his head.

"Ya don't gotta worry. Go back to sleep, will ya? Be good." He tapped against her nose. "Don't wanna deal with a cranky Cherry tomorrow."

Mary shook her head again and jabbed her finger into his chest, both because of the comment and because he kept shutting her out. "No. I can't sleep knowing you're awake, fretting about something."

Her tone began to grow frustrated. She couldn't understand why he chose to deal with this on his own when she was right here, willing to listen. How many hours had she spend on the phone with him when he was in Grafenwöhr, listening to his problems and how he wished she was there to comfort him. Now they laid in each other's arms and he refused to talk to her. It was infuriating.

"You're stubborn." He pointed out, jutting his chin forward.

"I know."

He sighed heavily, blowing some hair out of his face and avoided her gaze.

"Please." Mary tried one more time, cupping his cheek and rubbing her thumb against his soft skin.

"You're not gonna stop, huh?" He asked, trying to sound annoyed but the way he leaned inzo her touch made it clear that he wanted her comfort right now.

She promptly shook her head. "I'm gonna stay up all night with you if I have to."

He let out another heavy sigh. "You're driving me insane, woman. Ya, uh, remember your first visit here? Ya were asking about my Daddy a-and he wasn't here because he was meetin' up with this woman."

Mary slowly nodded. "I remember. Didn't you say she called you to offer her... condolences?"

He huffed a laugh, though there was no humour in it. "Right. That one."

Mary inclined her head, waiting for him to continue, not quite following along.

"I sent Daddy in my stead. And-" He took a deep breath. "H-He met her and he's been seeing her almost every day now. Even brought her here now." He gestured towards the door and shook his head.

Mary's eyes widened as she understood. She had seen the way Elvis looked at his father and the young blonde woman at the party. It must be her, that's why he'd suddenly disappeared from the party. "Oh." She finally managed to get out.

He sat up, leaning against the headboard with his back and clenched his jaw. "I don't know what he's thinking. Bringing her here. I-I don't know what he's thinking s-seeing her s-so often."

Mary sat up as well and hugged him, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. With a few soft touches along his arm and over his thigh she gently encouraged him to keep talking. It seemed like he's carried this with him for a long time now and she could only imagine what he must feel like. She wanted him to know that he could always be open with her, that he didn't need to hide those feelings.

"It's not even been six damn months since..." He stopped himself from finishing the sentence, his voice already becoming louder which each word, and shook his head.

"I've never heard you talking about her." Mary whispered against his skin and she felt goosebumps rising all over his skin.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. "She was the best. Always did everything in her power to make everyone happy." He paused, his eyes shining, caught up in the memory of her. "And she was strong, stronger than everyone I know, I'll tell ya. Even when Daddy was gone she always made sure I had everything I needed. She w-was everything to me."

Mary nodded with a sympathetic look on her face and gently ran her fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him as much as she could.

"Oh Cherry." He mumbled and rested his head on top of hers. A single tear rolled down his cheeks and landed on her arm. "I-I just really miss my Mama."

She was at a loss of words at his raw, emotional outburst and just nodded along as she held onto him, feeling him leaning more and more against her. Her throat felt dry and her eyes were burning as she tried to keep her own emotions at bay.

"I know E. I'm sorry." She whispered, afraid that he might hear her voice crack.

"I-It's gonna be the first Christmas without her. I just don't know w-what I'm supposed to do." He murmured helplessly. It broke Mary's heart. His fingers dug into her flesh almost painfully as he cried softly and she wished she could just take away his pain.

To him it must have really felt like he had everything. A successful career, his family and friends by his side and nothing to worry about. And in a matter of a few weeks it was violently ripped away from him. It hurt to see him like this, hopeless, without perspective.

What Vernon did must feel like betrayal to him, making him feel even more abandoned.

Elvis kept looking at her, his eyes pleading as if he needed someone to guide him, to take his hand and show him the right direction.

At nearly 19 years old Mary was very well aware that she wasn't the most experienced nor the most knowledgable. She didn't know how to deal with grief and loss, never having experienced it herself.

To say that she was felt quite overwhelmed would be an understatement. Still, she wanted to be strong for him and quickly put on a brave face. She wouldn't let him see that she felt just as helpless and lost as he did in that moment.

"Cherry? You're not gonna leave, okay? Ya gotta stay with me."

Mary swallowed hard and tightened her grip on the sweet, sad man in her arms. "I'll stay, E. Promise." She held out her little finger to him, it was everything she felt like she could offer at the moment. Not neqrly enough, but something. "Pinky promise, okay?"

He took a shuddering breath and nodded before softly wrapping his pinky finger around hers.

"Thank you for telling me." She whispered into his ear and gently wiped away some of the tears on his cheek. "You're being so strong."

He sniffled and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "Don't feel like it."

"But you are." She responded and pressed a loving kiss to his shoulder. He nodded slowly and shifted so he could lay down again.

"Now try to sleep for a bit, okay? I love you." She kissed him a few times, tasting his salty lips. Each kiss was soft and feather light, emphasising the meaning behind her words.

He pulled her down with him and moved to lay his head on her shoulder. "Love ya too." He murmured, the soft rise and fall of her chest lulling him in, her little sooties rubbing against his under the blanket.

She held him tightly, soothingly caressing his back. After a while he began to calm down, the sniffling and trembling disippating. Mary made an effort to stay awake as long as she could, watching over him, assuring him that she was there. It was only when she was sure he wouldn't rouse again that she allowed a few silent tears to spill over her own cheeks.

A loud snore right next to her ear woke her up a few hours later. With a small groan she moved her pounding head, trying to process everything that had happened last night. Clearly it wasn't enough sleep. She carefully looked over at him, relieved that he's finally able to get some rest and tried to move as little as possible as to not wake him up again.

A gentle smile spread over her lips when she saw him bundled up in the blanket, his arm bent at a weird angle over his head and his mouth hanging open just a little bit. Watching him sleep had to be one of the most beautiful sights ever and Mary was certain she could do it for hours without getting tired of it.

She slowly untangled herself from his embrace to get up. Once she was dressed she looked back at him finding that he hadn't moved an inch, sleeping like the dead. With a small smile she exited his room and went downstairs into the kitchen where she saw Elvis' grandmother preparing breakfast.

Elvis didn't care much for the German food offered at Hotel Grunewald. He preferred to start the day with a rich Southern breakfast, a little semblence of home in this foreign environment.

"Good morning Mrs. Presley." Mary chirped as she entered the room.

Mrs. Presley briefly turned towards her. "Morning dear. You're already up?"

"Yeah... uh, went to bed rather early. Can I help you?" Mary asked and gestured towards the kitchen counter.

"Why, of course, honey." The older woman smiled and gestured towards the pan. While she turned on the stove she registered Mrs. Presley taking of the shades she always wore and how she tossed them onto the nearby table. "Don't even need these damn sunglasses." She grumbled and turned back to the counter. "It's always dark in this country anyways."

Mary snickered. "Elvis keeps saying that as well."

"Well, he ain't wrong. Speaking of him, honey, did something happen last night?"

She halted in her tracks as she rememberd that Mrs. Presley slept in the room across. Embarassment and panic flooded her like hot lava seeping through her veins when she thought back to what they had done the night before.

Mary didn't dare to look at her and lowered her head even further to make it look like she was super focused on buttering the pan instead of just plainly hiding her burning cheeks behind the hair falling over her face. The possibility that Elvis' grandmother heard them made her want to disappear into the floor below her and never come out again.

Mrs. Presley quickly seemed to notice her distress and reached out to squeeze her arm. "Honey, calm down. I just mean I heard his door slam last night and then I heard ya knocking a little while later."

The walls were either very thin, or Mrs. Presley had better ears than any grandma should have. Which honestly wouldn't be surprising for Mary, with a grandson like Elvis. Either way, she was relieved that Mrs. Presley wasn't referring to the intimate details of their relationship.

Her relief didn't last long though becausw the mirthful twinkle in the old woman's eyes made Mary realise that she was very well aware of what had happened between her and Elvis. She tried to look past that as best as she could, quickly striking up the conversation again, desperate for this embarassing moment to be over.

"I think he was just tired." Mary offered with a shrug, not sure if she'd offend the old woman if she told her the real reason why Elvis had left.

"I know my son invited this woman he's been seeing lately. And I know it upsets Elvis."

Well, so much for that. "He saw them talking at the party and just bolted."

Mrs. Presley nodded. "I'm afraid that won't stop Vernon from seeing her. That's why we gotta take care of Elvis even more now. He needs it. Eventually he'll come around."

"I hope so. He's going through so much right now. I wish I could help him somehow, I always feel like I'm not doing enough."

"Sweetie, don't ya worry. It's a good thing that he has such a nice girl by his side. Just being there for him and listening helps him more than ya think." Mrs. Presley gently patted her cheek in the most grandmotherly way, making Mary smile.

"Thank you Mrs. Presley. So, what are we making today?" She asked, hoping for a more light-hearted topic.

"Same as always, honey. Elvis likes to have some bacon and eggs and toast in the morning."

"Every morning?"

"It's what he knows. Now Mary dear, one thing ya gotta know about Elvis, he likes his bacon burned. I'm talking burned black."

"I'll make sure to remember that." She chuckled.

"Ya better do, otherwise he won't eat it."

"He's very particular about the things he likes and dislikes isn't he?"

"He's always been like that." Mrs. Presley answerd with a fond smile. "Even as a little boy. Always knew what he wanted and how he wanted it. But he's a sweet boy."

"He is. I care a lot about him." Mary agreed, a dreamy look on her face as she took 2 eggs from the carton.

Mrs. Presley quickly interjected, by putting a hand on her arm. "Wait, Little. Ya always gotta cook the bacon first, he wants the eggs and toast fried in bacon grease."

Mary halted in her tracks and raised her eyebrows. "Oh...uh, that's original, I'll give him that."

She nodded, still smiling. Mary hadn't seen her smiling as much as she did now, content to just talk about her grandson.

"You know. honey, it's so good being here. Back in Memphis we have all the cooks and maids, now I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I really like doing these things for the boys myself. Makes me feel needed."

"Oh, I understand. It's good that you're taking care of them. All of them. They'd be lost without you." She giggled.

"You bet."

When they finished cooking Mary made her way upstairs again, carefully holding a tray in her hand, trying not to trip. She quietly entered his room again, not quite sure if he'd woken up already, but to her surprise she found him wide awake, standing next to his bed, frowning at her. "Where'd ya go, honey?"

Mary blinked, her gaze going back and forth between him and the tray in her hands. His agitated tone confused her.

"I, uh, helped your grandma in the kitchen." She offered and set the tray onto his night stand, before walking towards him. Her hands gently grasped his and she leaned up on her toes to give him a small kiss. "Good morning."

He slowly lifted one corner of his mouth and he encircled her with his arms pulling her close to him. "Good mornin' indeed." He kissed her forehead and his hands wandered down her back before reaching her butt, squeezing lightly. "You know, I really enjoyed last night, Mary Cherry."

She gasped as she was once again reminded of the sweet moments they'd shared, how his searing touch made her cry out his name and forget her own at the same time. To her it almost seemed as if he didn't even remember the other part of the night. The one where he'd laid in her arms, crying.

His actions right now briefly made Mary consider the possibility that she maybe dreamt the whole thing. But his still slighty puffy eyes were enough proof that it did happen and she felt another wave of sympathy and sadness washing over her.

She wasn't completely sure if he was just trying not to show it or if he in fact didn't remember any of it. The last time she'd really seen him this vulnerable was when they were shipped over and she recognised a familiar pattern where he acted tough in front of everyone until you were alone with him and he reached his breaking point.

It, rationally, felt like the right thing to do to ask him if he was alright, if he was really alright, after essentially breaking down a few hours ago. But she quickly dismissed this again, not wanting to push him too much when he apparently wanted something else from her right now.

So, she just grinned at his touch. "I enjoyed it too. Very much. Come on we can have breakfast in bed. Your grandma allowed it."

"Oh man that sounds good, I'm hungry. Ya and Dodger made breakfast together?"

She hummed and sat down on the bed with him. They started eating, a comfortable silence between them and the way he way he closed his eyes blissfully with every bite made her smile.

"That's really good, Cherry. You and Dodger get along well?" He asked after a while, his mouth full.

Mary chuckled and nodded. "Yes, she's very sweet. I like her."

"That's good."

"We talked a lot about you. She told me how you like your breakfast and what you were like as a kid."

"What did she say?" He asked, his eyes widened, a tinge of panic in his voice.

"Oh, nothing. That's girl talk." She shrugged with a small grin.

He lowered his head, looking at her through his lashes. "Don't ya know I love girl talk?" He whispered with a conspiratorial smile. When he realised that she wouldn't budge he threw up his hands. "Come on, honey, that's not fair now!"

She chuckled and put a hand on his arm, squeezing gently. "If you have to know, she said you were always very sweet and I agreed."

"I feel like that's not everything." He muttered, raising an eyebrow.

Mary gently nudged him. "That's all you're gonna get."

While he pretended to sulk and scarved down his breakfast she spotted an envelope she hadn't noticed before sitting on his night stand. Hearts were drawn all over it with red ink and Mary squinted, trying to make out the carefully written text at the center.

"For Elvis, I love you." She read aloud with a small smile before looking at him questioningly.

Elvis quickly wiped his hands on his pants and leaned over to pick up the letter, exposing a silver of skin as his shirt rode up the slightest bit, making her fingers twitch. "Oh yeah, this girl gave me this the other day while I was out signing autographs."

Mary had already suspected it, but hearing the confirmation that the letter came from a fan instead of another possible girlfriend calmed her. Her mind involuntarily went back to Elisabeth, before she willed herself to stop being so damn insecure about her all he time.

"She kept talking to me for five minutes, didn't understand a damn word she said. All I could do was nod along and smile. Letter's in German as well." He shrugged with an exasperated sigh.

She hummed. He's told her multiple times already that the language barrier between him and his fans here bothered him. Ever since leaving the ship in Bremerhaven he hasn't had a real conversation with one of them.

Coming across someone who spoke English was a rarity, yet he needed to talk to them, he craved that human connection. Mary thought it was sweet that he kept the letter close to him on his bedside, despite having no idea of its content.

"Let me see." She held out her hands. "I'm learning German, remember?"

"Uh, sure." He handed over the letter and she skimmed over the page, her brows furrowed in concentration. This was harder than she thought, especially with him staring at her the whole time, his gaze both amused and curious. She got even more determined when she saw the corners of his mouth twitching.

"How is it going?" He asked after a while, a stupid grin on his face.

"Give me a minute! Her handwriting is messy."

"Really? I don't think so." He shifted his body to peek at the letter in her hand, his tone playful. "I think her handwriting's just dainty."

His hand soothingly rubbed over her thigh and he had to hold back his laughter when he saw the annoyed look on her face. "Aw, don't be upset, honey, it's okay if ya can't do it."

Mary barely resisted the urge to use the letter to swat him on his head. "Hey, at least I'm making an effort here."

He bit his lip, flashing her a big smile and leaned closer towards her. "Oh, ya wanna get smart with me again, Cherry?"

She had to suppress a shudder when he tilted his head and started nibbling on her neck. "Let me focus, E!"

Elvis found her attempt to snap at him, with her voice high-pitched and her face flushed rather entertaining and continued to brush his lips over her soft skin. "You're so cute. Cutiepie."

She closed her eyes at the tickling sensation and his sweet words. "Okay, I, uh, I think she says that she really loves what you do, despite her parents disapproving of her listening to American music. She, uh-"

Mary paused when she felt his teeth sink into the spot where her neck and shoulder met. She involuntarily tilted her head to give him better access. He hummed, showing her that he was still listening and her voice trembled as she continued. "She also says that she's saving all her money to buy your records and-"

His hand, which had been resting on her shoulder started gliding down until reaching her chest. With a a small smile he carefully cupped her breast, making her gasp.

"Oh, my Cherry's so smart. Such a smart little girl, yes she is." He mumbled in that babyish tone he used so often, while softly kneading her soft flesh and running his tongue over her pulse point.

Mary let out a whine and put the letter aside, finally giving up. "You know, I get the feeling you're mocking me here." She breathed, her voice low, her eyes narrowed playfully.

He stopped his attack on her neck and sat back, holding up his hands and shaking his head. "Nuh-uh, wouldn't dare to do something like that."

She laughed and leaned in to press her lips against his, tasting the bacon grease and coffee on his soft lips. He momentarily deepened the kiss and his tongue darted out, licking along her bottom lip, making her sigh dreamily.

Then he let go of her again and grabbed his plate, merrily stacking some of the bacon onto the toast before taking another big bite without a care in the world, his eyes twinkling at her.

Mary was once again left in a daze, still feeling his hands and lips on her body, his touch leaving her a quivering mess as usual. She shook her head at herself, wondering how he managed to do that every time.

It was infuriating, but oh so exiting and wonderful. With a sigh she eyed her own plate, the thought of eating making her nearly nauseous now and she started picking at her food half-heartedly.

He grinned and gestured towards her plate. "You still want that?"

"Uh, no, go on." She smiled and pushed it towards him.

"Sure?"

"Yes." She chuckled.

He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her cheek with a loud smack, making her giggle. "Aw baby, you're the best."

"So I've been told." She joked and earned a playful pinch to her waist for it, making her jump. Before she could open her mouth again his eyes lit up and he quickly swallowed as if he wanted to share whatever just popped up in his head as fast as possible.

"Cherry, I got an idea. You will love it."

"I will hate it." She teased with a smile and used her thumb to wipe away some crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

He shook his head with a small laugh and reached out for her wrist, placing her hand on his cheek. "Nah, you won't."

She looked at him expectedly as he leaned into her touch. His blue eyes looked up at her almost innocently.

"I-I want ya to spend Christmas with me. Stay here with me over the holidays."

"Oh Elvis." Mary uttered, taken aback for a second. She was supposed to go back to Frankfurt the following day to spend the holidays with her family.

He sensed her momentary hesitation and quickly spoke up again. "Hold on, wait a minute, just imagine it. You and me under a mistletoe. Ain't that a pretty picture?" He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her towards him.

"Yeah." She agreed and he hummed contentedly.

"Don't want ya to leave again." He murmured into her hair.

Mary was painfully reminded of the night before and how he told her that this would be the first Christmas without his mother.

Despite being surrounded by his family and close friends she was sure he'd feel incredibly lonely and that was something she just couldn't bear. "I'd love to spend Christmas with you, E."

She could cry all over again at the way his whole face lit up.

.................................................................................

Taglist: @karel-in-wonderland @kingdomforapony @richardslady121 @18lkpeters @godlypresley @lookingforrainbows @everythingelvispresley @lawdymissclawdy68

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x reader #elvis x oc #writing prompt game #elvis presley x reader #army elvis #1958 elvis

[elvisabutler]

watch the smoke pour out the doors

summary: elvis presley, the real elvis presley, not whatever they like claiming is the man should be dead. at the very least he should be looking about two decades older than the man in front of you. and yet. elvis presley wishes the las vegas hilton- formerly the international- was a pile of rubble or ash. he enlists your help after a chance meeting. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: m pairing: elvis presley x female reader word count: 8012 warnings: major character death! choking. stalking behavior. the colonel being the worst. being trapped in one place. general depression. elvis is an asshole in this. fade to back sex ( p in v ). kind of yandere elvis? blood. vampire bites and general vampire shenanigans. mention of burn scars. fire in relation to buildings. excessive use of nicknames like lil bunny and spitfire. author’s note: heed that first warning y'all. this does not have a happy ending. i've had this brewing since september/october of last year and it's partially based on @venus-haze's vampire elvis headcanons seen here. so what really stuck with me in her comment about the fact that she took "I’ve been playing this mausoleum for 1,000 years" and ran with it. i took bits and bobs from her headcanons and ta da. also the fire i reference happening in 1981 did actually happen. i hope y'all like this even if this ending is a doozy. y'all know the drill real elvis or austin elvis can be imagined- if the moodboard didn't clue you in. also for musical vibes i have literally only ever really truly listened to meant to be yours from the heathers musical. also i did not add a tag list because this is- this is a fic and i was not about to make any of y'all tumble into it without wanting to.

Las Vegas is hot and is so sun filled that you hate it. You've always hated it but that might not have been the city's fault. Once upon a time you thought it would be your salvation but isn't that always the joke with everyone when it comes to the city. The salvation away from LA, because if you fail there Las Vegas will welcome you with open arms and remind you that what happens there stays there. It keeps you from going back to Memphis with your tail between your legs and being forced to tell your parents that you failed at your big dream. The dream that they supported you on but always figured you'd fail at. Your job pays the bills and you keep your clothes on, which considering the amount of bills you have, well that was a feat for you to achieve.

Working the front desk at the Las Vegas Hilton was challenging, mostly due to the customers with their requests that occasionally bordered on silly and nonsensical but you could handle it. It was nothing too horrible and there was certain pleasure in learning that you managed to pull off keeping some of the higher class- the celebrity clients happy. Of course, nights like this- busy nights with half your staff gone because of any number of problems- made you want to set fire to the building so that you didn't have to deal with this job. Your boss has you running around in what you swear is every direction until she physically stops you with her hands, gripping your shoulders and forcing you to stay put for just a minute.

"Elvis wants a delivery to his room." She says, her face twisting into one of sheer displeasure.

You raise your eyebrow and shake your head. "You mean the Elvis impersonator up in the penthouse. Why does everyone insist on calling him Elvis? We all know it's not him him- like-" The look she gives you is one you've realized means you need to shut up right in that exact moment because if you didn't you were liable to get yourself in a whole lot of trouble so you swallow the rest of your sentence and roll your eyes. "Got it, me and penthouse and his delivery of whatever to his room. Got it."

Your boss mouths a quick thank you before pointing to the kitchen area. It doesn't take you very long to reach there despite your heels and aching feet but it does take the kitchen staff a minute to realize you're standing there all gussied up ready to take whatever it is Mr. Presley wants. What he wants is apparently a feast befitting of a king- heh- and more packs of cigars than you thought one human being capable of smoking in any reasonable time frame but you remember those pictures of him back in the day. The pictures you'd see in your parents' house, in your grandparents' house of him smoking something. Maybe it was just someone who was honestly committed to the bit even if it meant wrecking their lungs and their voice. Once you actually manage to get everything, it's a surprisingly quick walk to the elevator and to the penthouse. For once your heels don't wobble as they have an annoying tendency to do so when you get this much stuff needing to be carried and you easily make it to the door of the penthouse and knock only to realize that your series of knocks have made the door open all on its own.

The room itself is dark, the curtains drawn so not even the light of the strip finds its way into it. It feels not like a tomb, you reason, with the temperature reaching levels that feel almost as if you've entered one. The cold wraps around you and has you shivering in your light blouse and work pants as you look for a free space, a table really to set down the items he requested. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the lack of light but you manage to avoid hitting anything and set the tray onto what you're mostly positive is a table- be it an end table or an actual dining table. You straighten up after you set it down and something feels off to you, feels as if you're being watched. That can't be though, yes Elvis- or whoever it's supposed to be up here had requested the items but that didn't mean they were stalking you from the dark.

Except the feeling doesn't go away and you know so very well that you ought to move, that you should get out of the room and back downstairs where it's busy and you don't feel the faint sensation of worrying that you'll be murdered. You don't though, it's as if your feet are firmly planted in that spot, like you want to see just why you're feeling this particular way. After what feels like an eternity you feel the air around you shift, a small gust of warmth pass by your back and that is the cue for your body to finally turn around. What you see when you turn around shocks you to your very core and makes you think you've got to be hallucinating.

It's like you've seen a ghost when you realize who you're staring at in the darkness of the room. There's always been whispers that Elvis is actually still alive, that he's alive and the person who's been recording the music and performing shows was still him. After all, despite so much information about his relationship with his manager coming out there was no lawsuit coming from the family and that had to mean he was alive. Looking at the man in front of you, looking at the parts you can see of his face that aren't obscured by a half mask over his face- you think they might be right just not in the way everyone assumed. After all, if you take off the mask, the man in front of you looks like he hasn't aged a day since about 1972 or maybe 1974.

Your parents had pictures of him plastered among the walls of your childhood home so you're familiar with the shape of his jaw, his nose and those eyes- those stunning blue eyes. You're familiar with all the facial features that make up one Elvis Presley and seeing them up close and personal as opposed to on stage? There's no mistaking who's in front of you. It's Elvis fucking Presley in the flesh, looking nowhere near the almost 60 he should be. His eyes though- the eyes you're looking at are just as stunning as the blue ones you've always heard about but you can see a hint of what looks like red in the pupil. It confuses you enough to have you moving closer to him to investigate. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head.

"That's new. Most of ya jus' hide and run away like scared cats." He huffs, allowing you to step closer and peer at his eyes.

"Do I seem like most people, Elvis?" You ask, you accent thickening as your hand against your will finds its way to his mask-covered cheek in an effort to pull him closer, only to have him practically snarl at you and grab your wrist.

"Do that and I'll rip your throat out with my teeth." His warning is accompanied by his eyes narrowing and his canines finding themselves on full display, showing you just how dangerous he could be. Yet, you find yourself raising your own eyebrows.

"Ya mean like you've done with a lot of my former coworkers?" It's suddenly making sense, how a lot of the times girls who went up here wouldn't come back and would suddenly have family emergencies. "Ya said it yourself, most of us jus' hide and run away. Do I look scared?"

The laugh that leaves his mouth sounds downright evil and sinister, like he truly is a devil waiting to ruin anyone who comes near him and you can't help the rush of arousal and fear that shudders through your system. His grip tightens on your wrist. "Oh, darlin'. Ya don't look it but that heart o' yours. Oh, she's betrayin' ya like nothin' else. Tellin' me you want to bolt like a lil scared bunny."

You hate how you swear you can feel your heart jump at those words, proving him right in the worst sort of way. You want to argue with him, want to tell him that his hearing must be going off and he's hearing someone else's heartbeat but you know better- you know from the glint you see in his eyes that there isn't a chance for that lie to fly. Instead you purse your lips and move to pull your wrist out of his grasp. "I haven't yet. And ya haven't tried to kill me yet."

His grip loosens but he takes the opportunity to pull you closer just enough so when he leans forward his lips are brushing your ear as his whisper is practically a short brush of air against it. "Yet." Finally, he lets go of your wrist and steps away from you, his eyes darting to the tray you brought. "All in one piece. You are better than the rest of 'em."

If anyone else were to say that, if you had heard it from an Elvis that looked the age he was supposed to be and didn't look like Dracula you might have preened, enjoying the compliment for what it was. Hearing it from him? Hearing it from a man who you feel will murder you the second you turn your back? All that accomplishes is making you shiver in fear. When you look at his face you see a grin that tells you that's exactly what he wanted to see.

You realize in that moment that you need to leave, you don't know if Elvis is planning on trying to hurt you or if he's just toying with you. Either way it's- it sets you on edge enough that your feet that had seemingly forgotten how to move manage to remember how as you turn away from Elvis, not bothering to give him a response beyond what your body had already inadvertently done.

"There we go, there's that runnin' I'm used to." Elvis chuckles, allowing you to move further away from him slowly inching to the door. "Even if ya practically movin' slow as molasses. Scared but bein' smart 'bout it, ain't cha?"

An answer dances on the tip of your tongue, a joke or a quip about how you'd be a fool to turn your back on a predator or to bolt from a predator. Either way you'd be seen as his prey and arguably easy prey at that. The answer dies on your lips as you feel a rush of air by you and see Elvis opening and holding the door to his room open for you. His grin looks full of promise and is all teeth in a way that sets you on edge.

"Go on, darlin', I'll let ya go. Ain't like I can't find ya 'round here." His eyes rake over your form and you'd think you'd be disgusted as you normally are when someone looks at you like that. Instead you have to suppress the shiver of something that passes through you. "'Specially if ya do that."

You don't dignify his words with a response as you exit hearing some whisper of the word fun and a dark laugh. If the speed of your steps increase once the door shuts. Well, that was your own business between you and whatever God saw fit to abandon you just a bit ago.

As it turns out Elvis is a very persistent man- a fact not tempered and instead heightened by the years he's lived. True to his word, he did know exactly where to find you though actually meeting up with you seemed to be beyond his reach. No, instead you found yourself being bombarded with gifts. Gifts you'd think Elvis couldn't provide and yet there they were. You wondered just how he was getting these things to you but the thought didn't fill you with any sort of delight so you chose not to dwell. It all comes to a head when before your shift one night there was a new outfit on your doorstep. A simple red blouse with a black pinstripe skirt. That in and of itself wouldn't be a problem and yet the true issue was the note.

Took a guess on your size, lil Bunny. You can tell me if I'm right tonight after my show.

It is your size and you have idea how he could tell that let alone how he knew these were your favorite colors and that you favored pinstripes for your dresswear. If you dwell on it for too long some sense of fear and flattered feelings settle deep within your stomach.

The only reason you wear the outfit is because every other work appropriate outfit you have is currently in the wash. A fact that is true purely due to your own laziness and is something you want to curse yourself for. You consider actually going to the show, entirely aware that you could but you're loath to give him the satisfaction. Instead you wait until around the time the show ends to make your way to his room utilizing your ability to have extra keys of rooms to make your way inside. He's not there yet so you sit in a chair and wait in the dark. Dramatic, yes, but you figure it seemed fitting given the circumstances. Perhaps he might even respect the flourish of it, the flourish of you waiting for his own dramatic person in the dark as if he couldn't rip your throat out in an instant.

You almost doze off waiting for him but when he finally arrives he opens his door with a sigh, completely ignoring you before he walks slowly over to you, silent as a church mouse. He opens his mouth to say something as his teeth glitter in the light of the strip coming from the window but you cut him off.

"Is this all supposed to charm me?" A simple question but one that has him chuckling lowly as you try and get up only to be stopped by his hand on your shoulder.

"It working?" His eyes zero in on your skirt before he shrugs. "Fits you like a damn glove. Knew I guessed right."

"You guessed-" You try and take his hand off your shoulder before realizing it only makes him push down just that little bit harder. "I didn't ask for clothes or jewelry or- for you to even still be trying to talk to me. What do you even want from me? My blood?"

"If I wanted to suck ya dry of all your blood, I'd've done it already darlin'. Nah, that'd be a damn waste of a spitfire like ya." Elvis murmurs as his eyes trace your form. "Think we'll have more fun with you alive and me alive as I'll ever be. 'Less ya gonna tell me you've gotta death wish."

You scoff at him, your lips curling up into a sneer. "I didn't even know ya were honestly still alive, what makes ya think ya were a part of any death wish I might have?"

"The fact that your heart insists on goin' a mile a minute 'round me. Or when you shivered like ya did. Might not have realized I was 'round but now that ya do-" His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Think ya'd enjoy dyin' with me drainin' the life from ya."

You shouldn't think the idea is enjoyable but you can't help the way your legs reflexively clench together. "Mr. Pres-"

"Elvis. Lil bunny, lil spitfire of a woman. You were waitin' f'me in the dark. Could've rushed in 'n torn out that pretty lil throat of yours 'fore I realized it was you. And wouldn't that've been a cryin' shame. Waste of a woman like ya."

It's flattering the way he calls you a spitfire and the way he leans close to you whispering it to you like a long lost lover. You reason your reaction stems from not being intimate with anyone for a while but truly perhaps it just is Elvis's natural charm. A shake of your head is all you manage to do before clearing your throat to speak. "Elvis. That- That was the point not- Ya needed to be caught off guard. Startled. And-"

The laugh he lets out is low and mocking. "Oh darlin' you wanted to surprise a vampire. You- God, you're somethin' else. Maybe- Stay here tonight. Don't got plans, know that."

The unfortunate truth of the matter that he's correct. You don't have plans but spending the night and staying there with him has you shaking your head once again. That is the exact opposite of anything you want to do. "No. Find- They'll send up another girl if ya ask them to or have- I don't know, I'm not staying here tonight."

His hand that's been on your shoulder moves to your neck and traces the lines of it gently as he leans forward and lets a nail act almost as if he's going to prepare it to be pierced by his teeth. "Not even if I have somethin' to tell ya. Somethin' interestin'?"

Your face perks up for a moment at the thought of just what he might want to tell you before you frown. "Not even- I want to go home Mr-"

"Elvis. Not. Mr. Presley. Not to ya." The words are growls in your ear and involuntarily your mouth opens up and lets out a soft whimper and whine. At the noise his hand moves to stroke your clavicle. "Just for tonight. Won't- Don't plan on doing what your body seems to want me t'do. Just wanna talk."

You use the fact that his hand isn't directly pushing you down to slip out of the chair. His eyes widen in shock before he moves to pull you into his arms. He doesn't bother to move fast, more preoccupied with seeing your reaction. You take a step or two back and he drops his arms to his side before motioning to the door. "'Nother night then, Y/N. 'Nother night." A beat. "I won't stop."

Whatever you want to say just comes out as a hiss of anger almost like you're a cat before you slink out the door. Once you're in the elevator you sink to the floor and try to steady your breathing, you try to tamp down on your arousal and try and ignore the part of your brain craving to find out just what he wanted to talk to you about.

That craving doesn't leave you and if you didn't know any better you'd think it was supernatural the way it worms its way into your mind and settles in popping up at the worst possible times. It only takes a week before you find yourself waiting for him in the dark again, wearing a pinstripe pair of pants and the red blouse he had given you. You don't mean to fall asleep waiting for him this time but you do, only to wake up when you feel the presence of something staring at you. By this point his show had been over for an hour and he's in a robe that looks- soft. "Rise n' shine, lil bunny."

You scramble a bit, shocked and mortified that you fell asleep before you look at Elvis who is just sitting casually as can be in a chair next to yours. Your eyes drift over him before you bite your lip. "I'm only here to- I want to know what ya were going to tell me last week. And I want ya to stop- I want to not have a bunch of gifts every day."

His shoulders move in a shrugging motion before he shakes his head. "I got no problem tellin' ya about it, but 'less you're gonna help, ya still gonna get the gifts."

"Why do ya- I don't want- That's not how you charm someone into helping ya." You cycle through words faster than you mean to, more confused than anything else at what he's saying. "What do ya even need my help for?"

It's a valid question, you figure, after all he's a vampire and you are still very much a human but he hums, waving off the question before moving his chair to face you and to essentially pin you into being stuck in your own chair. "It's how I figure you'll be charmed." He pauses. "Lil outta practice wit' th'other one. As for what I need ya help for-" He trails off and pulls off the mask obscuring part of his face to reveal a burn scar that is noticeable enough to have you gasping. "Need ya to help me avoid doin' this again. Don't feel like burnin' up like that on the other side. Let alone anywhere else."

Several moments pass before you finally find the words to articulate your question that aren't just straight confused noises. "Are ya asking me to help ya set fire to something?" He cannot be asking you to do that. You have to be dead and this is just a very vivid post death hallucination.

For his part Elvis nods slowly, looking you dead in the eye with the most laconic face as he answers you. "I'm askin' ya t'help me set fire to this place."

"The hotel?" Your tone shifts up about 2 octaves and you swear your voice just whistles instead of actually speak. "Where I work? Where you perform?"

That same laconic look doesn't leave Elvis's face. "The one I tried to set fire to in '81 only to burn half my face? That very one, lil bunny."

You can't help but laugh though it's not something normal and sensible that comes out of your mouth. No, it's a high pitched mildly terrified giggle that leaves your mouth. He's- He is asking you to commit arson with him. To help him set fire to a place he's performed at since the 1970s. That you work at. He cannot be serious. "You're- You're joking. I- I have Elvis Presley who is apparently a vampire stalking me so that I can help him set fire to a hotel because you fucked up the first time?"

The giggle is still there before his hand darts out and wraps around your throat, tightening just slightly. "Keep laughin' lil one. Keep laughin' and I'll rip that throat clean out. Won't even be recognizable."

His hand steals your breath away from you as you try to take a breath only to have him tighten it more. He- He won't kill you, you don't think, this is just to scare you, to make you want to do what he's asking for but your vision is starting to blur just a bit and you can't help the way your eyes are starting to roll back in your head before suddenly you can breathe. You cough a little violently as air rushes back into your lungs before you glare at him, pushing the chair back in order to stand up. "You keep threatening to kill me, ya sure ya want my help? I don't- I'm leaving. This is a joke. You're a joke just like ya were-"

In a rush Elvis has you pulled tightly to his chest, his arms snaking around you and tightening like a python. "Stopped being a joke the second this happened to me don't- Heard enough of that from all those goddamn tabloids and from the reports of my death."

You're going to die, this is how you're going to die. Not by starvation or homelessness or by some madman murdering you on the streets. No, you're going to die because a man who was a has been before he became a vampire and is even more of one now despite three more albums under his belt and another Grammy for that eighties gospel album. Still you have to fight him, he's not- if he wants your help he won't kill you. You're- he's obsessed with you, isn't he? Wants your help that bad?

"Elvis, I think you're just a lonely scared little boy in a man's- excuse me- vampire's body." You snarl, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, as if you have any chance of winning against a vampire with superhuman strength. As if you'd have any chance winning against him even if he was human. Elvis Presley never had been a small man and you had never been the strongest of women.

"And if I am? Ya gonna be my salvation? Gonna save me from this hell on Earth? This eternal damnation forced on me by a Dutch lyin' bastard?" He leans closer to you, his breath ghosting over your face, over your lips as he takes breaths he doesn't need to and as he watches your eyes have a fire in them that warms him from the inside out. "Gonna make me feel better about it, darlin'? Ya really think ya good enough t'do that? That I like ya 'nough for that t'work?"

"Ya haven't killed me yet." You spit at him, just narrowly avoiding actually spitting on him. "I'm still alive and ya seem pretty damn obsessed with getting me of all the people in this town to help ya. So, yes, I think ya like me just enough."

At your words Elvis's grip on you loosens and he steps back like you burned him for a moment before he practically hisses at you. "'m only obsessed 'cause ya seem like the only person who could do it." A beat and something flashes in his blue and red tinged eyes. "And ya- yer from home." Memphis is what he means but he doesn't think to clarify. He takes a step forward and grabs at your chin even as you let out a snarl of your own. "Ya hate this place as much as I do. And think ya'd like seein' it burn down 'round ya. Don't lie. Can tell if ya do."

A quick dart of your eyes to the side is all the answer you can give for a moment as you try to compose yourself. "Doesn't mean I wanna help ya. Doesn't mean I'm gonna help ya."

For the briefest of moments, Elvis looks human and looks like a little boy when he looks at you. He's- You recognize the look, it's almost practically begging. "Please. This place- it ain't good for anyone. Me, especially but can't tell me it's done a bit of good for anyone other than who owns it."

He's right, as much as you loathe to admit it and it shows in how you purse your lips. "I'm not- I ain't agreeing to this, but tell me just what your hairbrained plan is."

As it turns out, Elvis's plan takes until the break of dawn to explain and two orders of room service delivered by one man who goes back downstairs and a woman who- well, served as Elvis's food until she fell limp in arms. There was something enrapturing about watching the act, watching how her mouth contorted into one of pleasure as she came in his arms before you could slowly see the life drain from her until his mouth came off her neck with a pop and a squelch. When he looks at you his lips are covered in her blood and he can't help but give you a toothy grin. "Sounds like you're jealous of her and me. Can't risk killing ya but maybe- maybe soon lil one."

That morning you call in and dream of his lips against your neck and of the pleasure he'd give you because- he doesn't want to kill you. You'd just get all the joys of being fed from but none of the tragedy. If you avoid him that night, you blame it on your shift. He doesn't call you out on the lie.

Planning arson between two people, one of whom has a larger bank account but can't leave his residence and the other who has a smaller bank account but can roam as she pleases is harder than one would think. Yet you both persevere, meeting up every other night to gather the items needed. What's been tripping you up for ages has been the floor plans and it shows in how you've been getting snappier with Elvis each passing meeting. He gives back in spades, somehow being worse than he was your first and second meetings but tonight- tonight he seems a little melancholy and a melancholy Elvis is a very human Elvis and one you find- one you could see a future with perhaps. A twisted one but one that flutters into your brain on nights you can't sleep or nights you can sleep despite dreams of the two of you mouths red and snarling as you feed.

"At this point ya might as well kill me." Your accent has been returning with a vengeance the more time you spend with Elvis any acting classes you had to train it out of you falling by the wayside. "We ain't gonna find a proper floor plan and without that we can't-"

"Y/N." His tone is laced with a warning- don't test him, not tonight. "I got time- wanna get this done but 'nother week ain't gonna hurt."

"Says the man who hasn't fed from me and is gonna live forever." Your eyes are blazing when you look at him before you continue. "I wanna get this over with. Wanna have- Wanna see if you'll do somethin' if we get it done."

Elvis's eyes narrow looking at you for a moment before he rubs his hand over his mouth. "Oh. That's- Lil Bunny. That's the problem? Ya want me t'do somethin' to ya? Have my wicked way with ya?"

You can feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears before you can even articulate an answer. "That's not- Ya keep looking at me. Like- like I'm someone ya might wanna- No, I don't."

"Ya do." He moves to lean over your chair, putting your face at eye level with his chest. "Ya wanna know what it's like to be in my bed. Wanna know what it's like to please me."

You do, lord above you do. You're essentially committing a crime for him and for what? For the pleasure of knowing you've set fire to a horrible hotel? That you've freed him from this place? For nothing that gives you any satisfaction. "Is that so wrong? Ya won't kill me when there's a line of bodies I can probably trace back to your first year as a vampire. Ya won't feed from me because then where's your help for this silly scheme. Ya won't fuck me because-"

"Listen darlin, honey, satnin. I- I get a lil lonely up here. I know what ya gonna say- jus' leave but you've seen how it is." Seen how he can't leave the room for fear someone's going to actually realize that he's Elvis Presley and not some impersonator. Seen how people already mock the fact that he's still around- after all hadn't you? Seen how he looks out at the view of Vegas, almost wistful when he thinks you're not looking. "I haven't killed ya but- you're- ya remind me of how I was. Always been- the way I am but not not like this. Don't feel like ruinin' it is all."

His hand reaches out to touch your face and it's so gentle that you can't help but nuzzle into it and take a quick inhale of breath. "Elvis."

He hums, noting how your eyes shut and for the briefest of moments he remembers what it was like to have someone whisper his name like that. Like a prayer you're scared will float away and fail if you say it too loud. He's missed that, he's missed so much of what it was like to be human, to be able to live freely even if back in the day his freedom still had him confined. You just look so sweet nuzzling his palm, acting as if you're the love of his life, acting as if you belong there. Maybe that's why he had been cursed otherwise he doubts he would have made it to this decade or at least made it to this decade in a state you might have wanted him in. "Y/N?"

"Why are you being like this?" You whisper, still nuzzling at his palm. "You- From the stories I've heard you're- you've never been a completely good man. I haven't seen you be a good man."

Another hand, his free hand moves to cup the opposite side of your face and forces you to look up at him. His eyes always such a stormy blue with that ring of red since you came across him have taken on a lighter hue and it takes your breath away as you feel his thumbs stroke your cheek. "Haven't had a reason t'be one. Look where it got me, satnin. Haven't pushed ya away yet, maybe you're- maybe you're the thing to settle this violent angry head of mine. So pretty- so gentle when ya wanna be. Let me take care of ya, hm?"

His hand moves away from you and you chance it almost in a trance before you look at him and bite your lip. "Take care of me?" The subtext is clear as your heart starts to race and your legs clench together.

What was the harm in treating you tonight? Maybe it would give you the right incentive to find the floor plans, to look harder than you had been. Maybe that was the real trouble you were having. You were too distracted by your desire and want for him. His hand moves down to your chest, undoing the buttons of your blouse slowly. "Take care of ya. Jus' for tonight."

That night you find yourself gasping for air, screaming his name, arching your back and snarling all at once. You find that when you leave you play with the bite mark on your breast and shudder remembering his words said against your ear more than once. "Might make ya mine if ya do well enough."

It still takes another two weeks to get the floor plans, the proper up to date ones. Two weeks of finding yourself in Elvis's bed with him teasing you and making promises about his plans for you and him. But, as it turns out someone had been wanting to get a room at the hotel and well, you did work the front desk so you could handle getting them some accommodations for a fee of course. Elvis wastes no time in opening up the plans when you arrive that night with them in your hand, holding a bottle of champagne for you and the number of someone you had met on the bus for Elvis to enjoy his own drink. After she's on the floor and you're nursing your second flute of champagne you feel Elvis behind you wrapping his strong arms around your middle and pulling you close.

"Gonna turn ya when it's all ash. Won't be stuck here any longer, can do what I want again. Take ya all around the world." He whispers against the shell of your ear, nipping once he reaches your earlobe. "You're gonna look so fuckin' gourgous feedin'. Vicious as ya are. Ya did so good bringin' me dinner too. Wish I coulda shared her wit' ya. Soon, lil Bunny, soon."

There's an alarm in your head that goes off at those words, at the way he coos them while holding you. They feel off- fake somehow and you down that second glass the moment he lets go of you. Had- You knew very well he wasn't a nice man, you've known this from the second you first spoke but he- there's no way he has any intention of changing you. He might be obsessed with you but that's because you've been the only person who can handle herself well enough to do this, hadn't it? You were going to get him to the finish line of burning down the hotel only to what burn with it yourself? Take the fall for a dead man? You file away the thoughts in your head for a later moment, if you thought about them now Elvis would know.

You smile at him almost saccharine. "Ya mean it? I'll be your vicious lil vampire queen?"

He grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss not caring that he still has a trace of blood on his lips. "The second it's up in smoke. Promise."

Liar.

Las Vegas in August is disgusting, better than some places in the United States, but it's still hotter than Hades and feels nearly as suffocating despite the lack of humidity. A fact you keep pointing out to Elvis as you both hold small cans of gas.

"Should've killed ya like the res' of 'em. No one would've missed ya. Jus' another lil' girl in Vegas runnin' 'round thinkin' she could make it big." You see a flash of his teeth and you figure it's supposed to scare you but at this point you like to think you know better.

"If ya killed me who would be helpin' ya right now?" The way you speak is practically a sneer but you can't help it, not with how he just somewhat threatened to kill you. "Hurry up, people are going to start coming back and I don't-"

"It's 11PM and they're in Vegas the hell are they-" He starts before he starts to trot off to the area he's most familiar with- the stages. "Meet me by the damn elevator."

An eye roll is the only response he gets as he leaves you to your own thoughts as you pour the can of gasoline in a line between the already waiting containers of it. If all goes well the walls of fire you and Elvis hope to create will have the entire building up in smoke in no time at all. It makes it so you both have to be quick on each floor but you had taken precautions for this. You knew every way to get down the floors as quickly as you could and Elvis wouldn't leave you behind. After all, he kept talking about his lil' spitfire queen. Kept cooing the words at you in between planning and buying the gas and finding yourself spread across his sheets or above him.

And yet something felt different, you had that same feeling you did when he talked about how gorgeous you'd look feeding. It felt off. You try to shake the feeling away as you two reach the top of the building, his penthouse suite and cover it in extra gasoline. He wanted every bit of this room demolished, nothing salvageable but to do that you are currently feeling faintly high on the sheer amount of gasoline in the room and wondering just how no embers from the cigar he just lit have fallen yet. You almost miss the words he says when he looks over at you. "Ready to run?"

A shrug is your only answer before you try and take a deep breath. "Get in the elevator first, then toss it."

He obliges, letting you go first with a flourish that rather than delight you has your hackles raising. "Ladies first."

Elvis Presley used to be a gentleman. Elvis Presley is not a gentleman any more.

Right before the doors to the elevator close Elvis tosses his cigar between the door and as they shut you feel the rush of heat from the roaring blast it caused. This is the only floor you have to take the elevator for and it makes each consecutive floor easier. You both light a cigar and toss before running to the next floor, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat even as Elvis pulls you in for a harsh kiss his eyes blazing in the fire he had started with his cigar, looking practically manic with delight. The fire brings out the red in his eyes. It scares you.

"Calm down, Lil' Bunny. Almost there." He shouts practically sing songing the words as you rush down yet another flight of stairs to the second floor. "One more floor and you're mine. We'll be free. I'll be free."

There it is again, that nagging feeling that you're a means to an end for him. You brush it off one final time as you start to cough, the floors of smoke and blaring alarms of a sprinkler system that hasn't produced any water getting to you. "Jus' want this done, 'Vis."

Finally you reach the final floor, the bottom floor which is the most complicated. There's an extra exit, a fire exit in the stage area so you both agree that's the last room, that's the last place to be set ablaze and Elvis finds it almost poetic when he thinks about it. He stares at the doors for a moment before he enters with you, as if he thinks he has all the time in the world. He might, he might be able to run out of there fast enough but the smoke is starting to get to you and the heat from the blaze above and around you is making the area around you sweltering. "You said you'd turn me, Elvis. Once we get outside, right?" You have to shout before you cough over the roar of the blaze and how somehow it's starting blow toward you as you shut the door to leave you and him in the lone area not on fire yet.

The cigar in his mouth is lit and he contemplates knocking off the tip, letting it start to catch everything ablaze before he stops himself and nods. "Course, gonna do it the second you get some air in ya."

Your own cigar- the last cigar is lit and you're about to toss it before you stare at him, stare at him because that tone- that tone betrays his actual plan. "Why not now? I can- I can barely breathe in here, Elvis."

Those words have him tossing his cigar and have a whoosh of fire come up behind him as he walks towards you. "You'll be fine, lil spitfire. Y/N. You don't- Patience. Don't wanna rush forever."

Your mind goes blank as you drop the cigar you were holding and have to jump out of the way as a bit of fire starts to separate you and Elvis. He glances at the fire and growls, realizing he's very quickly going to be boxed in before he wooshes to a spot next to you. "Tryin' to kill me? 'Cause I won't-"

A crash can be heard of a bit of wood falling onto the stage and you jump before you cut him off. "Because you're not plannin' on it. Ya gonna- You're plannin' on killin' me, aren't ya?"

"Eatin' ya, actually. It's what ya wanted back when ya first saw me eat. Wanted to be fucked then sucked. I fucked ya now-" His words are cut off with a slap that he allows you to do because it gives him the ability to grab at your wrist. "Loose end, lil one. Either you go down for this or ya die. Gave ya the more pleasurable option."

"While telling me you were going to change me!" You snarl half running toward the door even as you inhale another bit of smoke causing you to cough more. "You- You've been usin' me this whole damn time! I- you said you'd make me your little queen."

He's faster and he has you pinned up against a wall as he feels the flames starting to inch toward you both and as you keep swallowing more and more smoke. "Ya called me a damn has been and a joke. Darlin' ya don't wanna spend eternity wit' me, ya jus' wanna run around spending an eternity doing whatever the hell ya want to do. Ain't gonna give ya something you think is a gift."

"You- I'm- I can't breathe." You choke out as you try and take deep breaths only to realize that the room is filling with grey smoke. He's fine because he doesn't need to breathe but you- you need air.

"Shame I didn't change ya before. Didn't give ya what ya wanted to use me for. Don't care 'bout me. Lil Memphis spitfire don't care 'bout the thing everyone loves 'bout the place. No wonder your mama and daddy don't want ya to come back." His tone is mocking as he keeps you pinned to the wall, despite inching himself closer to the door. He was going to escape and you were going to die by smoke inhalation if the fire didn't kill you first.

A breath of air enters your lungs suddenly as you find that Elvis lets you go, a bit of the fire catching onto his pant leg right as he reaches the door with you. You seize the opportunity and hit at the door with your body, trying to force it open as he steps on the offending burning fabric. even as another crash can be heard on the stage and you see more and more paint chips fluttering around both of you, or maybe that's ash you've never seen a fire this big. The door finally flings open and more fresh air for your lungs and to feed the fire. Elvis whooshes over to you and attempts to block your way out but for once you have the upper hand, managing to be on the outside of the building while Elvis is still just barely in there. He realizes his mistake, realizes what you just very well might do to him in an instant.

"Lil Bunny- I'll- Don't be rash. I'll do it. I'll do what I said I would." He coos even as the fire rushes around him, his hair becoming more messed up the more he stands there. His face getting more ashes on it the longer he stands there.

"Liar. Liar." You tilt your head and move to push him inside. "Pants on fire."

His eyes look down thinking you're telling him his pants are literally on fire and you take that as your opportunity to shut the door, locking it in a way only you know how. Within a moment he starts to push at the door.

"Y/N!" He shouts through the door. "I'll do it, just let me outta here! I'm- Ya don't want this on your conscious! I wasn't gonna kill ya! Baby- Darlin- Lil Bunny, let me out!"

"Not gonna believe a lyin' dead man, Presley!" You shout, knowing that you sound insane before you start to move away because he's right you don't want that on your conscious. You hear him shouting promises you doubt he'll keep and feel the fresh bite he had made on your chest burn as you walk away but you're able to fake being a victim among the crowd, the ashes covering your face and the way you keep coughing as the building burns and as you swear you hear a series of Southern curses in the wind.

The bite scars over and aches from time to time.

They don't find his body. You try and not let it keep you up at night.

#elvis presley x reader #elvis presley angst #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley #austin elvis x reader #austin butler elvis x you #austin butler elvis #austin butler elvis x reader #austin elvis angst #austin elvis x you #vampire elvis #austin elvis x y/n #austin butler elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #ally writes

[everythingpresley]

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 24

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Jessica Anderson is Elvis Presley's assistant and after months of working together, slowly something sparks between them. Friendship? Or is it more? [ Fem!Reader ]

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+), Slowburn

    ||     Word Count: 8,198

Author's note: I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in a while but I hope this chapter will make it up! I just have to say it again... I missed you all sooo much!

Masterlist

Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 24

Elvis’ POV

Leaves and twigs crunched under my boots as I walked through the freshly cut green grass, my index finger held tightly by a little boy with bright blond hair. He looked up at me with a beaming toothy smile, his ocean blue eyes shinning brilliantly under the harsh Memphis sun. I could feel this immense love radiating towards this little boy like he was my everything. 

“Momma!” He yelled, letting go of my finger and ran ahead of me. 

I looked up to see the love of my life in the distance sitting under our tree. The tree where we always sat under at Graceland.

Jess looked up from where she sat on the blanket and smiled softly at us. Butterflies erupted in my stomach seeing her sitting there with her belly prodding out. She was dressed in a white sundress, leaning back on the palms of her hands. Her dark hair glided gently with the light breeze in the air. She looked like a goddess in a white dress and swollen full with my second child. 

“Woah buddy!” I laughed, running after him and pulled him up in my arms when he launched himself at Jess “Careful! You’ll hurt baby sister.” 

“Sowwy Daddy.” He pouted adorably.

“Aww.” Jess cooed. 

“It’s okay.” I chuckled and kissed his head before gently placing him back on the ground. He walked forward and hugged Jess, without throwing himself on her stomach this time. Jess hugged him back, grinning and kissed his head before he took off running when he saw his ball in the distance.

“Hi beautiful.” I grinned down at her.

“Hi handsome.” She sighed, smiling softly. She looked tired and ready to give birth any day now but still as beautiful as ever.

I bent down and captured her lips with mine. I hummed against her super soft, swollen lips. I pulled away and sat behind her letting her lean back against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her enormous stomach and rubbed it tenderly. 

“I love you.” I whispered in her ear. She shivered slightly from my breathe tickling the shell of her ear.

“Hmm. I love you too, Elvis.” She replied leaning her head on my shoulder “I can't wait till this baby is out.”

“I know, baby.” I chuckled and kissed her temple, both of us looking at our mini me running around with his ball. 

My perfect little family and I couldn’t wait till baby girl would get here. I wanted a little Jess running around, she’d be spoiled rotten that’s for sure. 

I blinked awake in my hotel room. I turned my head and looked at the alarm clock placed on the bedside table that indicated I had slept for two hours only. I forgot to pack my pills that Dr. Nick supplied me with and I dreaded the days to come without them or Jess, I know I won’t be getting any sleep.

This dream has haunted me ever since Jess left. I hate the sadness that creeps onto my chest when I would wake up and realize that that recurring dream was not my reality. In reality, I had just gotten to New York and Jess refused to talk to me. This dream should've been a clear cut sign that we’re meant to be together but I was stubborn and thought I was doing what's best for her. 

Everyday I would mourn this dream, mourn that life. Me and Jess, together with kids. I never realized how much I wanted kids until I got together with Jess and I can’t imagine having them with anyone else. 

Yesterday did not go as planned. I got there with a plan to win her back and ended up having a panic attack because I thought she had moved on. It broke me to think of her with someone else, happy. I wanted her to be happy but selfishly I wanted her to be happy with me and only me. 

When she held me and helped me with my panic attack, for the first time in two months I felt like I was breathing again, like the past two months I was suffocating without her. Having her so close felt like a breath of fresh air. It felt like I was whole again. Like I was a shell of a person and my soul had finally returned to my body.

I stayed afterwards just to see if she really had more people in her place. They seemed genuinely nice and good for her as friends, plus they were gushing about her as they walked out of the building so that made me like them even more. I was happy that she had people here. 

“Yes, Elvis. I want to forget we ever happened.” 

“In fact I want to erase the past two years out of my memory.”

Those words were on a constant repeat, I refused to believe her. Not after what Grace told me but still when she uttered them my heart shattered in pieces and I just wanted to cry right then and there. 

I could see the tears in her eyes when she said them, I wanted to rush over to her and just hug her tight, tell her how much I love her and how sorry I am. I hated seeing Jess cry, I hated that those tears were because of me. I hated myself. 

We were standing there under the illuminating full moon, both with tears in our eyes, love pouring out of us but not being able to be with one another because I’m an idiot. I don't know how to be in relationship, I screw everything up however, I’ll be damned if I let her slip through my fingers. 

Since she wouldn't talk to me I planned to stand outside her place until she’s ready to talk. I’m not giving up. Ever. The first morning also didn't go as planned, she threw the cup of coffee I got her in the trash and walked away from me so I decided to go bigger. 

Flowers! Who doesn't love flowers? Girls are crazy about them, so that’s what I did. 

First, I contacted Jess’ super and asked him if he can meet me at Jess’ apartment in a few hours. I told him I’m her boyfriend and I lost my keys. 

Second, I went to my hotel’s front desk (I was staying there under a fake name but I think they recognize me because they sent up a bottle of champagne and chocolates to my room when I checked in) and asked them for the best flower shop in the city. 

It was quiet a trip since Jess didn't live in the best area, it didn't have the best shops. 

I got 12 different vases filled with sunflowers, Jess’ favorite flowers and paid one of the guys to help me lug them into Jess’ apartment. I ended up roping her Super in helping us set up flowers around her apartment. 

How romantic is this? Very. It will leave her pussy pulsating for me that’s for sure. 

After I thanked the guys for helping me I scoured the apartment for any evidence that a guy has been staying here. First step was the bedside tables, one was empty and one had all of Jess’ stuff so so far so good. Then I checked the bathroom for any male products, shampoo, shaving creams etc. Clear, thank god. 

This plan ended up backfiring, she was mad that I broke into her apartment and ended up tossing one of the bouquets at me. 

I need a new plan.

I didn't get why she got mad about the apartment, I’ve seen her naked more times than I can count. We didn't keep anything from each other and she lived in my room for months so I’m not really invading her privacy.

If I’m not thinking about ways to get Jess back, the guys back in Memphis keep calling me. What I didn’t expect was for Dad to find out where I am. Someone’s about to get fired once I find out who told him.

“Elvis. You’ve got to come back to Memphis.” 

“How did you find out where I am?” I asked, frowning.

“Credit card charges.” Dad replied.

Shit. I did not think of that. 

“I’m not coming back.” I replied, running my free hand through my hair. I was laying in bed waiting for when Jess gets back from work so that I can go bother her a bit. 

“Son, you signed a bunch of contracts agreeing to perform. If you don’t then we’ll be sued.”

“Then let’em sue me.” I rolled my eyes. I didn't give a shit, my biggest mission right now was getting Jess back. 

I think food is the way to go, Jess loves her food. My little foodie. I smiled as I grabbed her some coffee and stood outside her apartment. I checked my watch because she always walked out at 7:00AM on the dot. It was now 7:01. Weird. 

Just as I checked my watch again she came rushing out dressed in a pencil skirt, a blouse and a suit jacket. She looked so hot, like a sexy librarian. 

I got to walk her to work and she even drank the coffee I got her which made me feel giddy. I was also checking out her ass the entire time, the skirt was perfectly tight. I hoped no one from work checks out her ass. 

We were headed on the right track, she was talking to me. 

Joe Esposito called me a few days after my dad called me.

“E.P!” 

“Hey Joe.” I replied.

“What the hell did you say to your dad? He’s pissed and so is the Colonel.” 

“I just told him I’m not coming back anytime soon.” I replied.

“It’s been a week EP. That’s the longest we haven’t seen you recently.” Joe replied “Look I know you took it hard when Jess left but everyone is lost without you.”

“Joe.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair “I feel lost without her. I’ve put everyone else first all the time. I’m doing this for me.”

Joe was quiet for a while “You two do belong together. I hope you two find the happiness you both deserve.”

“Thanks Joe.” I replied. 

Everyone knows Jess got a job in New York and now I guess everyone knows I’m in New York so Joe probably put two and two together. 

I decided to call her Super up again to open the door to her apartment. This time I decided to create two copies of her keys just for me. I made sure to bring all of her cowboy hats and boots I got her for Christmas and placed them in her living room before I walked into her bedroom and shoved a photo of us back in Hawaii on the mirror. If she removes it then she’ll see the note behind.

Best day ever with the love of my life. 12/01/1972.

Once I made those copies I always double checked that she locked her door properly, she lived in kind of a shitty area. There were some sketchy people who would walk past her building. I smiled proudly every time her door was properly locked with the deadbolt.

Good girl.

On her day off we went for a walk in central park and she actually laughed and smiled. Every time I heard her laugh I could feel my heart flutter at the sound. When I dropped her off at the apartment words just flew out of my mouth without even thinking. I told her that I was gonna get her back and I was gonna marry her which in turn made her mad at me. Or was she sad? I saw a hint of tears in her eyes before she pushed the door to her building open and rushed in without saying a single word. 

I thought girls loved hearing those words, maybe she wasn’t in love with me as Grace said.

She continued to ignore me after that and didn't even acknowledge my existence. I was starting to miss her. I tried everything. That entire week I tried bribing her with cookies, coffee, banana bread, chocolate, cake etc. Nothing worked. 

I missed her so much that one night when I was checking that her door was locked, I noticed that the deadbolt wasn't attached properly, so I took that as an opportunity to see her. I slowly walked into her apartment and headed towards her bedroom. Gently, I pushed the door to her bedroom open and tiptoed to her side of the bed. I looked down at her and longed to be asleep by her side. Longed to be cuddled up next to her. Longed to kiss her good night and play with her soft hair. 

How can someone be this beautiful as she snored softly. I slowly reached for her cheek and caressed her softly, not wanting to wake her up but she did. And boy was she mad. 

It seems like all my plans end up backfiring and I only made her angrier. I was shit at asking for forgiveness. 

She continued to ignore me until I had the genius idea to get her McDonald’s. Her favorite. I know Jess and I know she can’t say no to McDonald’s. It was pouring rain when she got back, she took the food from me and went inside. Jess took pity on me and decided to invite me in.

My heart was racing as I ran up the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. 

I’m gonna kiss her. I’m gonna kiss her. I’m gonna kiss her. 

Every day since I got to New York I was waiting for the chance to kiss her but I didn’t want her to slap me or get mad at me. 

I needed to calm down, I don’t want to get kicked out as soon as I enter the apartment. 

I walked in once Jess opened the door, my knee shaking as if I was on stage again. Her cheeks were slightly flushed probably from the steaming hot showers she always took. Her hair was still wet and she was dressed in a bathrobe. I was hoping she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

I cupped my knee once I sat down on the couch to keep it from shaking. 

I needed to feel her lips on mine. I missed them. I needed her scent to take over all my senses as I do. I gulped anxiously. Would I be able to make a move? Would she kiss me back if I do?

We sat together and ate, silence then took over. I felt like that was an opening for me to start apologizing for ruining us. That’s when Jess started crying. Tears quickly weld up in my eyes and the feeling of hurt shattered the pieces of my already broken heart because I hated seeing her cry. 

I gulped, blinking back my own tears and reached for her. I cupped her soft, wet cheeks and kissed the tears away. I loved being able to be this close to her once again. My heart swelled when she didn't pull back or push me away. 

I inched towards her lips, staring directly into her green eyes. My beautiful green eyed girl. Those green eyes that I wanted to stare at for the rest of my life, those eyes that captured my heart the moment they held my blue ones. The green in her eyes were intensified by the redness surrounding them from crying.

“Can I kiss you?” I asked her with my stomach in my throat and tears in my eyes. What if she says no, what if she pushes me away? I wanted to just feel her lips even for a second. 

She nodded, her lips in a pout. My heart soared but I was still holding my breath as I brushed my lips on hers. I kissed her gently and slowly as if any fast movement would spook her “I missed your lips.” I sighed against her lips, finally being able to breathe. 

She’s my breath of fresh air. I can finally breathe again, like I was suffocating for months without her. 

I still can’t believe how fast and hard I fell for this girl. I can’t believe I’m willing to sacrifice everything I’ve built for her and I couldn’t give a crap about it either. Because two months without her was miserable, I can’t imagine a lifetime.  

I needed her to take me back. I needed to see her as my wife. I needed to see her be the mother of my kids. And I needed to grow old with her by my side. 

She wanted me to keep kissing her, she didn't want me to stop and I definitely did not want to stop so I slowly tugged on her bathrobe belt and untied it. Blood rushed down as soon as I saw that she wasn't wearing anything underneath her robe. 

“Oh lord.” I whispered. I paused taking her all in and threw a quick prayer to all her glory.

Jess gripped my shirt and pulled me down to continue kissing me. 

I kissed down her neck, inhaling her sweet, freshly showered scent. I bit on her neck and sucked on it. She moaned as I bit her shoulder. She’s probably going to be so mad once she sees the marks I made on her body, remembering her pinching me when I tried to give her a hickey. Oh how I missed those days. Being within a few feet away from her at all times and now I’m nowhere near to her, nowhere near to her heart.

In the meantime Jess was eagerly unbuttoning my pants. 

I was finally home. Inside her. My home. I couldn't help but cry once again as I thrusted in her. This felt like a dream, it felt unreal that we were in this position which we’ve been in hundreds of times before but both of us silently crying. Tears streaming down both our faces with lust, sadness and heartbreak. It felt overwhelming. I did not close my eyes for a second, scared I would wake up and this would be another dream. She did look like a dream withering underneath me. Her bright green eyes on mine the entire time like she also couldn’t believe I was here either. 

I collapsed on top of her, placing my head on her chest like I did every night when I slept with her. Her heart was pounding underneath my ear and it felt comforting to hear the steady beat of her heart. My favorite sleeping position, in her arms. I squeezed my eyes shut when she wrapped her arms around me. 

I moved my head and placed my chin on her chest “I lo-“ I wanted to tell her how much I loved her but she quickly placed her palm over my lips, stopping me from saying the words out loud. 

“Don’t.” Jess replied and that was when we finally spoke about everything and my heart broke all over again when she said she needed to think especially after I told her how I felt and what went on, that I never meant those stupid words. 

I told her that I love her and she said it back in past tense.

“All I did was love you.” 

It broke my heart seeing her so heartbroken as she said those words.

This can’t be it. She’ll take me back, I know she will even if it takes her weeks, months or years.

Jess’ POV

I cried the whole night after Elvis left. I wasn’t planning on kissing him let alone having full blown sex on my couch. But the things he said, his reasons for breaking my heart confused me. On one hand my heart swelled that he did this out of love and his genuine selflessness for wanting me to achieve my dreams.

He loved me. 

He said he loves me. 

How am I supposed to let him go now? It was already hard enough but now knowing his reasons and knowing that he loved me the entire time sent my heart and mind to battle. 

“I’ll follow you to wherever it is you want to go to because you’re my home, Jess.” Elvis said as he left.

I’m his home. That made me ball my eyes out even more knowing that I provided that comfort to him as he did to me. I always felt safe, loved and at peace when I was in his arms or really him in my arms since he always loved to sleep on top of me with his head on my chest. I was now realizing just how much he loved me, I was so stupid to doubt it. I was so stupid to think it was one sided. We loved each other so much that we were willing to gut our own hearts to give the other person an ounce of happiness. 

I got myself up from crying on the floor by the kitchen and went to shower once again, the sun was already starting to peak through. I needed to wash Elvis’ scent off and the stickiness that remained on my thighs. 

After showering once again and getting into some comfy pjs I headed to bed, my head pounded from all the crying. I think I might have taken a time machine back to two months ago when I had just arrived to New York with the amount of crying I cried last night. I wanted to give him a second chance, I know he’s really bad at relationships so I was scared to get hurt once again. 

I tossed and turned in bed and eventually gave up and got up to make myself some coffee instead. I cleaned up the leftover wrappers from the McDonald’s we had and cleaned around the apartment in my pjs. Then I went over to organize my vanity but nothing would keep Elvis out of my mind especially when I walked over to my vanity and spotted the picture he had hung up on my mirror of him and I kissing in Hawaii.

I sighed and for the first time ever I pulled the picture off. Not to throw it away but to take a closer look at us. I held it in my hands and frowned down at the picture. Oh who am I kidding I love this man so much. I gulped and willed myself not to cry again. 

I threw the picture on top of my vanity upside down. Out of the corner of my eye I saw writing in black. I furrowed my eyebrows and grabbed the pictures again reading the writing that was in Elvis’ handwriting. 

Best day ever with the love of my life. 12/01/1972.

Here come the tears again. I placed the picture on my chest and clenched my eyes shut. He said I’m the love of his life and that was another hit to my heart because I know he’s mine. I don’t think I’ll ever love someone the way I love Elvis. My heart beats for this man. My fear was the only thing stopping me from sprinting over to his hotel and taking him back and kissing the crap outta him. 

The sun was fully out by now it was almost 10AM. I peeked through my window, my heart hammering in my chest because for a split second I was afraid he wasn’t going to be there, that he might have given up. As I peeked I spotted Elvis taking his usual spot, leaning against the lamppost with a takeaway coffee cup in his hand. He had just gotten there and I hoped he at least got some sleep. 

Screw my mind I needed to be around him, I wasn’t about to take him back but I just craved to be close to him right now.

I quickly headed for my closet and threw on a white sundress and a matching white headband with my black converse. I gulped the rest of my coffee and jogged down the stairs.

As I pushed the door open, Elvis looked up and smiled softly. I smiled timidly back and walked towards him.

“Hi.” 

“Hey.” He smiled bigger, his eyes scanning me head to toe “I don’t know why I never told you this but I fucking love it when you wear a sundress and a headband.” 

I could feel a blush creeping up on my cheeks “Thanks.” 

Seeing me blush made his smile transform into a full grin.

“Did you get any sleep?” I asked, taking in his face. He certainly did not. His eyes were bloodshot and he had bag underneath his eyes. 

He shook his head no. 

“Do you wanna go get breakfast at this little spot down the road?” I asked him.

“You wanna have breakfast with me?” He asked quietly, I bet he was confused about us moving forward after the conversation we had last night. 

“Yeah.” I shrugged “I missed you.” I whispered.

“I missed you too.” He replied. 

We sat down at one of the tables that were on the sidewalk since it was sunny unlike last night when it was pouring rain. The waitress brought over the menus and placed them in front of us and poured coffee into our mugs. She smiled and then frowned looking at Elvis.

“I’m sorry… are you Elvis Presley?” She asked, stuttering slightly, getting nervous to be around Elvis. 

“Ah. No, I’m from New Jersey actually and I get that all the time.” Elvis said using a New York accent as opposed to his country accent. 

I picked up the coffee mug to hide the smile that was spreading on my face. I wanted to laugh at him trying to do a New York accent. 

“Oh.” The waitress shook her head and chuckled “I’m sorry but you do look a lot like him.”

“I know!” Elvis chuckled “That’s how I got my girlfriend over here.”

I chuckled and lowered my mug back onto the table “Oh yeah. I had the biggest crush on Elvis Presley and when a new guy joined my workplace and when he looked just like Elvis, I just had to make the first move.” I said, wanting to laugh. 

“She was all over me.” Elvis grinned wiggling his eyebrows at me “Kept asking me out until I caved and said yes.”

“Hmm.” I grinned “Now you can’t live without me.”

He shook his head “No, I can’t.” He said softly, dropping the act. 

“Well, you make a cute couple. Let me know once you’re ready.” The waitress smiled softly and left our table. 

“Out of all the places you chose to be from, you chose New Jersey?” I chuckled.

Elvis shrugged “I have no idea, I panicked!” he laughed.

“And that accent.” I said and started laughing.

“Hey! My accent was great!” He starts laughing with me.

I wiped the tears that escaped from laughing “It was, it was.” I lied.

“Don’t lie to me now!” 

I got a breakfast burrito while he got a Spanish omelet as always. 

“Your burrito looks good.” He said after he finished his eggs.

I wiped my mouth with a napkin “It’s delicious, you wanna have a bite?”

He looked like a shy little kid asking for food, it was so cute. He nodded.

I picked up the burrito and was handing it to him but instead of taking it from my hand he moved his head closer. 

Oh he wanted me to feed it to him? 

I edged closer in my chair and he took a big bite from the burrito that was still in my hand.

“Hmm.” He nodded, liking it but then he frowned.

“What?” I asked him, placing the burrito back on my plate.

“There’s something mushy.” He replied with his mouth full.

“Oh that’s just the avocado.” 

“Oh.” He replied and continued chewing. He hated certain textures of food but he liked the burrito so much he ordered one for himself. 

We just randomly started walking around in silence, not really talking about anything specific. Definitely not talking about what happened last night. Not us having sex and not about the confessions we made to one another.

“Flower for your lady?” An older man with a bouquet of flowers walked by selling red roses.

“Yes, I’ll have one.” Elvis smiled.

“Ah, no need.” I grabbed Elvis’ arm shaking my head “I think I got a lifetime of flowers from you.” I told him pointedly, reminding him of the amount of flowers he got me.

“One more wouldn’t hurt.” The man replied, grinning. 

I smiled and reached into my pocket and pulled out a dollar, handing it to the man and taking a rose from him before giving it to Elvis “Here. From me to you.”

Elvis grinned taking the rose from my hand “I’ve never actually received flowers before.”

“Even men should receive flowers.” The man said, tipped his head and left.

“Now I know why girls love getting flowers.” Elvis said as we continued walking.

I smiled softly fighting every instinct to reach over to kiss his cheek. 

We walked towards the park and by then it was already noon. We sat under one of the trees and I could feel one of us wanting to talk about what happened and where do we go from there. I was scared to have this conversation but how long till Elvis has to leave, I don’t believe he’ll be here forever and I don’t want him to halt his entire life just to wait for me. 

“We need to talk about last night.” I said in a low voice hoping he wouldn't hear me but he was sitting right next to me so he obviously heard me.

“Yeah.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Where do we go from here?” I asked looking out at the lake.

“I don’t know Jess. It’s up to you.” He replied “But I do know is that you’re my best friend and the love of my life and I’m so sorry it took me losing you to actually tell you how I feel about you.” He said looking down at his hands as he twirled the rose in his hands.

I gulped “I want to be with you. I really do but-“ I started but he shook his head and stood up. I looked up at him with a frown on my face.

“Before you say anything. Can we just pretend we’re together right now and none of that happened.” He said.

I think he was scared that I was finally closing the door between me and him but that was the farthest thing from the truth. I wasn’t trying to completely close this chapter, I wanted to put some boundaries until I feel comfortable and safe enough to trust that he wouldn't break my heart again.

I sighed “Okay.”

“Dance with me.” He said, placing the rose on the grass and extended his hand out to me.

“There’s no music.” I chuckled looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. 

“We don’t need music.” He smirked.

“Very romcom of you Mr. Presley.” I grinned and placed my hand in his. He pulled me up to stand and wrapped an arm around my waist while keeping my hand in his, placing it on his chest.

“You said it yourself. Many movie magic happened here.” Elvis chuckled. 

“People are looking at us.” I whispered, shoving my face into his chest.

“Let them.” Elvis chuckled. 

I was slightly embarrassed to be dancing in the middle of Central Park with no music but as we swayed together everything around us just melted and it was just Elvis and me. Him with his arms wrapped tightly around me. I loved being in his arms despite feeling super warm due to the harsh, noon sun. I didn't mind hugging him close to me. 

Elvis started humming gently in my ear then started singing softly “Just pretend. I’m holding you and whispering things soft and low.”

I closed my eyes and just focused on his deep, rich baritone voice singing low in my ear “And think of me, how its gonna be. Just pretend I didn’t go.”

I’ve never heard this song before but it was beautiful and it was like he was singing this to me, about us, about our situation. 

“If I knew it then, I’d be back again. So just pretend I’m right there with you. And I’ll come flying to you. All my crying, Lord it’s true.”

“I will hold you and love you again but until then… we’ll just pretend.”

“But now I know it was wrong to go. I belong here by your side.”

I pulled my head away from his chest and looked up at him “What’s this song?”

“You like it?” He asked.

“I love it, it’s beautiful.” I whispered, taking in his beautiful features. God, I really did miss his handsome face. 

“It’s a new song I just recorded. When I heard it, I-I just had to record it for the new album. Reminded me of us.” He whispered the last sentence. 

I shoved my face back into his chest. He chuckled because he knew I didn’t know how to respond to that and kissed the top of my head before placing his chin over my head and continued swaying. 

“I have a song to sing for you.” I said pulling my face away from his chest to look at him once again.

“What?” he chuckled.

“Well, Lawdy, Lawdy, Lawdy, Miss Clawdy. Girl you sure look good to me.” I giggled as I sang it, for some reason I just really loved this song and it kind of felt like our song. 

He chuckled and shook his head at me. 

“But please don’t excite me baby.” We sang together “I know it can’t be me.” 

We laughed shaking our heads at each other. I loved pretending like we’re a couple again. 

I pinched his arm remembering the hickeys I saw on my shoulder and chest when I showered, thankfully it was covered by my sundress. 

“Ouch!” He frowned, taking a step back from me and looked at me with confusion “Oh, you saw the hickeys?” He grinned.

“Yes, I saw the hickeys!” I slapped his arm. 

“I was gonna say sorry but I’m not actually.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back into him.

“You’re so annoying.” I grumbled.

“Every time I walk through Central Park I really get the urge to go kayaking on the lake.” I told him, pointing at the people kayaking.

“Let’s do it.” Elvis replied and dropped his arm from my waist and took my hand in his, pulling me towards the lake and I didn't protest. 

What I didn't tell him was I never went on it because it was always couples kayaking together and every time I wanted to do it, I imagined me and him doing it together. I felt like it would be wrong to do it without him.

We got on the kayak, sat opposite one another and paddled out to the middle of the water.

I smiled softly at him. 

He smiled back and reached forward to fix my headband “You know since we’re pretending we’re together again. That means I can kiss you whenever I want.” He raised a brow, gauging my reaction.

“That is true.” I smirked. 

He grinned and etched forward, I did the same and met him halfway. He kissed me softly but jerked forward all of a sudden which caused the kayak to rock.

“Wow.” I chuckled and held onto the kayak. 

Elvis grinned mischievously and gripped the kayak on either side.

“No.” I told him and shook my head knowing what he wanted to do. 

He laughed and threw his weight left and right causing the kayak to rock on the water. I gasped, my eyes widening. 

“Elvis!” I laughed and placed my hands around his shoulders to stop him from moving “Stop!” 

The guy who was in charge of the kayaks whistled “No rocking the boat!” He yelled.

Elvis laughed and stopped “Sorry!”

“Why?” I asked him “Why do you do that?”

“I just love scaring you.” He chuckled. 

I rolled my eyes with a huge smile on my face, it really felt like old times. 

We paddled around for a while before stopping again.

“I wish I had a camera with me.” Elvis said. 

I nodded and threw my head back, closing my eyes to soak up the sun when Elvis started rocking the kayak again. My eyes snapped open when we tipped to the side and were fully plunged into the water. I held my breath and shot out of the water. Once I was out I looked around for Elvis seeing him pop out.

He looked at me feigning innocence but was biting down on his lip to stop himself from laughing.

I looked at him and wanted to pretend that I was angry but I couldn’t help but laugh. Once I did Elvis joined in. 

“I lost my headband!” I said and splashed him.

“Oh no!” He said sarcastically and laughed, not really caring. 

“Are you two okay?” The guy who gave us the kayaks paddled towards us.

“Yes.” We replied and he helped us get onto his kayak before paddling back while the other guy flipped our kayak upright and roped it with him.

“You’re both not allowed to use the kayaks ever again.” The guy said “There’s also a fee if the kayak was damaged.”

“It was an accident.” Elvis replied.

“Bro.” The guy frowned. Elvis frowned at being called bro, he hated it “I saw you rocking it back and forth several times.” 

“Okay fine.” Elvis rolled his eyes, we didn't really care that we were banned from using the kayaks ever again “Do you have any towels?”

The guy huffed and threw a towel at Elvis “Just one.”

Elvis shrugged and wrapped the towel around my shoulders. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, over the towel “Are you cold?”

“Should’ve thought of that before you threw her in the water.” The guy murmured to himself as he checked on the kayak to make sure there weren't any damages. 

“No, I’m fine.” I replied, ignoring the guy. 

I wiped myself down before removing the towel and wrapping it over Elvis’ shoulders.

“Come here.” He said making space for me so that we can both be wrapped by the towel. We walked towards the tree we were previously sitting at and sat down. I sat between his legs, the towel wrapped around the both of us.

I leaned back into his chest and something hard dug into the middle of my spine. I frowned and turned my head, over my shoulder “There’s something digging into my back.”

“Oh that’s my necklace. The one you got me.” He replied. I turned between his legs and face him.

He dropped the towel and pulled the necklace from under his shirt, the cross necklace I got him for Christmas.

“You still wear it?” I asked with a small smile on my face.

“Of course.” He looked at me like I had two heads “Why would I remove it?”

“Because we aren’t together.” I replied.

“Yeah I wasn’t trying to erase you from my memory… like someone.” He said giving me a pointed look.

“Hey!” I frowned, pouting “You broke my heart. I didn't break your heart, you broke your own heart.”

He hummed and nodded “Fine. That’s true. But I love this necklace, I can’t take it off.”

“You weren't wearing it last night.” I replied, remembering when we had sex. I would remember if he was wearing it because it would’ve definitely hit my face if he was. 

“Yeah because it was at night and you live in a crappy area. If I were to get mugged I wouldn’t want to lose this necklace.” He replied.

I rolled my eyes “My area is not that bad!” 

“Ooookay Jess.” He chuckled rolling his eyes. 

I reached my hand for the necklace and lifted it up from his chest to inspect it. I flipped it around and saw an engraving that wasn’t there when I got it for him. 

Jessica P.

“Jessica P?” I asked, looking up at him.

He smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck “Jessica Presley.”

I could feel the butterflies erupting in my stomach and my heart practically jumping out of my chest.

“I did it the week you left. I didn't think I’d see you again and I just wanted to see your name with my last name.” He shrugged, his cheeks bright red in embarrassment. 

I smiled softly and cupped his cheeks, kissing him gently. He smiled against my lips, his shoulders dropping as if he was melting into the kiss. 

“I have to say.” Elvis said and pulled back, his hands on my hips while my hands were still cupping his cheeks “Jessica Presley sounds way better than Jessica Anderson.” 

I chuckled and shook my head at him. 

“You’re not disagreeing!” He pointed and poked my nose. 

“Shut up.” I laughed and pushed his hand away from my face. 

We were still slightly wet as we walked back to my apartment after handing the towel back to the guy. We stood outside my apartment and looked at each other.

I took a step towards him and cupped his cheeks, kissing him once again. He gripped my hips and kissed me back. The kiss was filled with want and need. 

I pulled back and pressed my forehead against his, snapping my eyes shut.

“Why did that feel like a goodbye kiss?” He whispered.

I opened my eyes, pulling back and shook my head “It wasn’t.”

“Are you sure?” He frowned.

I smiled reassuringly and fisted my hand in his shirt, pulling him to me and slammed my lips on his. He grinned against my lips and kissed me back. 

“You wanna come up?” I asked him.

“Yes!” He grinned “But let me go to my hotel first, shower because I feel disgusting and get fresh clothes.”

“Okay.” I smiled and kissed him again before going into my apartment building.

I was practically skipping up the steps to my apartment. I was giddy and over the moon because I couldn't wait for him to come back here and I would tell him I’m willing to give us another chance. He meant the world to me and I loved him. Life is short and I hated not being with him. 

I showered as fast as possible and as I got of the shower in my bathrobe I heard my landline ring. I rushed over and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey baby.” Elvis sighed.

“Hi!” I grinned.

“Hi.” He chuckled “Just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna be a bit late okay?”

I frowned and shook my head even though he couldn't see me “Yeah! Sure, don’t worry about it.”

“Wait up for me okay? I won't be too late.” He said.

“That’s fine. See you in a bit.” I said and hung up after he said goodbye. 

I hoped he wouldn't be too late because I was getting antsy. I was prancing around the apartment waiting for him then I decided to play music. 

About an hour and a half later Elvis finally showed up as the sun was setting. 

I was on the couch, the music was no longer playing and I was just staring at the TV when I heard him knock.

“Hey.” I smiled gently.

“Hi!” He grinned and cupped my cheeks, slamming his lips on mine.

I kissed him back and placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back gently. 

“What’s wrong?” He frowned.

“Come inside.” I pointed to the living room with my head. 

Once he stepped inside I shut the door. 

“Okay, you’re scaring me. You look not as happy as I left you.” He said looking at me with a frown on his face. 

“We need to talk.” I cringed.

“Oh fuck.” He groaned “Jess-“

“No, no. Just sit down.” I said tried giving him a reassuring smile.

“If this was about me being late-“

“It’s not.” I replied and took his hand in mine and pulled him toward the couch “Sit.” I pulled him down next to me. 

I was silent for a second because this was very conflicting, I didn't want to do it.

“Jess?” 

“I’m gonna cut to the chase.” I gulped “You need to go back to Memphis.”

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened “W-what? W-what the heck happened in the hour I was gone?” 

“You need to go, Elvis.” I sighed and clenched my eyes shut while squeezing his hand that was still in my hand “You need to go or you’ll be bankrupt especially if they sue you.”

He groaned and threw his head back on the couch “Who told you?” 

“Your dad.” I replied. 

1 hour ago

After I hung up on Elvis and got dressed in jeans and a shirt I heard a knock come from my front door. I furrowed my brows because Elvis just told me he’ll be late.

I peeped through the peephole and saw Vernon Presley of all people. What the heck?

I quickly unlocked the door and swung it open “Vernon?”

“Jess.” He smiled. 

“Umm hi.” I gave him a confused smile.

He moved forward and pulled me into a hug. 

Oh. Okay. I hugged him back and welcomed him in.

“You’re really missed in Graceland.” He said as he took a seat on my couch. 

“I miss you guys too.” I smiled.

I wanted to ask what the heck he was doing here but I didn't want to be rude. 

“My son has been in New York for almost 3 weeks.” He said.

“Yes.” I replied.

“And he says he’s not coming back until he gets you back.” Vernon continued. 

I didn't reply because I didn't know what to say. Yes? I know. He’s been outside my apartment for the past 3 weeks. 

“You’re the only one that can convince him to come back. We need him to come back, he has plenty of shows lined up for the next two weeks and if he doesn't fulfill them then they’ll sue us for canceling. Jess, we need the money. I don't know how much they’ll sue for, they could bankrupt us.” Vernon continued. 

Present time

“So while the Colonel was in my hotel room trying to convince me to come back, Daddy was here telling you to convince me to go back?” Elvis asked.

“Yes. Wait, that’s why you called me to say you were gonna be late?”

“Yeah.” Elvis sighed.

“Jess.” He shook his head “I-I’m not going.”

“Elvis, you have to.”

“No. I’m not leaving. Not without you. I’m not dropping everything to go on the road for two weeks.”

“What’s everything?” 

“You don’t get it do you? You- you’re my everything and I finally have you back.” He clenched his jaw in frustration.

“Honey.” I said and ran a hand through his hair, pushing some of his hair behind his ear “It’s okay. It’s just two weeks.”

“Come with me then.” He gripped my knee.

“I-I can’t Elvis. I have my job, I can’t just take off for two weeks.” 

He gulped “I went through 2 months without you-“

“We can do two weeks.” I replied, not really because I’m gonna miss him so much but he has to go. 

“No.” He shook his head and go on his feet, starting to pace around my apartment. 

“Hey.” I got up, stood in front of him and cupped his cheeks “We can do two weeks, okay?”

“So are we back together? If we’re back together then why don’t you just quit your job? You said that I’m your dream right? That you don’t want this anymore.”

“I can’t just jump right back in Elvis. I can’t quit my job and follow you, we need to take this slow. You really hurt me and I know you did it for the right reasons but the way you did it was completely wrong. You need to learn how to communicate with me or else this won’t work.” I said and caressed his cheeks “So, Go. Go and in two weeks when you’re back we’ll have this conversation. About us and our future together, okay?” I asked and pressed my forehead against his. 

He screwed his eyes shut, placing his hands over mine that were still cupping his cheeks. 

“You’ll wait for me, right?” He asked “I’ll be back in two weeks.”

“I will honey.” I smiled softly and captured his lips in a sweet and tender kiss to reassure him. 

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[pxnsneverland]

Don’t Be Cruel | austin!elvis x oc (part 4)

plot summary: Angel Casteel is a small town girl who lucked into working as a makeup artist at a film studio. Unfortunately, her confidence in herself wavers as she is assigned to work with Elvis on his latest motion picture. Overcome by his star power at first, she slowly starts to realize there is a man behind the fame, a man she understands. But as they grow closer, the world grows more turbulent, especially Elvis's world. Will this Angel be able to save Elvis from himself and the people around him? Or will getting mixed up in his word prove to be her downfall as well?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 1890

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 4

Even after a few days, Martin Luther King's death weighed heavily on Elvis' mind. I could see him straining to keep his cool. Even completing the film seemed less important to him. I did my best to console him and distract him from his inner turmoil, but I didn't feel like I was doing enough. The Colonel also attempted to deflect Elvis' attention, despite the fact that his plan contained a whole new musical extravaganza for Elvis. Christmas Elvis.

“Jingles, Jingles,” Colonel Parker sang, “Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus lane,” as he steered a reindeer-drawn sleigh engraved into a 3D copy of the stage Elvis was to play on.

We sat outside around Elvis' trailer, trying to stay cool in the scorching heat of Los Angeles. Elvis shifted his gaze between the Colonel and the diorama. I could see the quiver in his eye as he tried to conceal his disgust at the prospect of a Christmas special. I couldn't disguise my annoyance either. A Christmas special? It was so unlike Elvis, so unlike anything he had ever done. It was out of character, and I was certain his fans would agree.

“Elvis Presley’s Wonderful World of Christmas,” Colonel said, straightening up, “Brought to you by the Singer Sewing Machine Company, to every television set in America.”

“Elvis and Christmas?” I questioned, “It just doesn’t seem right.”

“Why not? My boy is a good Christian son of God. The fans will love it. It only takes three days to tape and there’s no audience.”

“I’m not questioning that Elvis is a Christian. I’m sure his mama taught him well. I’m just sayin’...nothing about Elvis up until now would lead anyone to believe he would sit in front of a fake set and sing Christmas songs.”

“With all due respect, Ms. Casteel, I don’t know why you’re questioning anything that has nothing to do with you.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Elvis said, folding his arms, “Angel’s right. Now I ain’t sang and performed live in years, Colonel. I don’t know if a Christmas special is the best way to start that up again.”

Colonel Parker wrinkled his brow. He gave me a disgusted glance before returning his gaze to Elvis. I didn't hate anybody, but Colonel Parker was on his way to being the first. I didn't appreciate how he handled Elvis or how he purposefully sheltered him from anybody else's perspective that contradicted what he wanted Elvis to accomplish. He was attempting to transform Elvis into a puppet, removing the rebel I had grown to know.

“Why not?” Colonel asked Elvis. “A Christmas sweater. Made on the new Singer home knitting apparatus.” 

When I looked over at Elvis, he was no longer paying attention to anything Colonel said. On the little TV Jerry had dragged out, he was watching Robert F. Kennedy. I focused my attention on it. He was delivering a speech in protest of Dr. King's assassination. I rose up and approached Elvis, laying a hand on his back. He naturally placed his arm over my shoulder. For days, the TV had been tuned into the riots and carnage in Elvis' birthplace of Memphis. That, more than anything else, had broken him.

“Memphis is burning,” I said quietly, my gaze fixed on the screen.

“You’re right, darlin’. And a damn Christmas special ain’t gonna help.” Elvis strode back over to the Colonel with me in tow. “Is this the best we can do, Admiral?”

“Well, we took the Hollywood phonies for every nickel they had and, after filming ends next week, it is time for us to pack up our tents and move onto greener pastures.” He drew in closer. “We’ve seen Elvis the Rebel. We’ve seen Elvis the Movie Star. Now, we will see Elvis the Family Entertainer.”

“And appliance salesman?” Jerry said from behind us.

Elvis tensed beneath my fingertips. “What did you say?” 

I attempted to retain hold of him. “Elvis, don’t…” My grip wasn't strong enough, and he slid out easily, slowly heading towards Jerry. “Jerry was just jokin’.”

“I don’t give a damn if he was jokin’ or not.” Elvis jabbed a finger at Jerry's face. I could see the dark-haired vocalist shaking, but I couldn't tell whether it was from rage or from Colonel's prior statements. “Listen, Jerry, I don’t need you to question me about how I support my family and every goddamn person here! You understand me?! If you don’t like it, you can pack your shit and go back to Memphis.”

Jerry hadn't moved an inch since Elvis approached him. I could feel the intensity in his gaze even though I couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses. Jerry stood behind Elvis through it all, no matter what. For him to question Elvis was an indication that he didn't agree with the path Elvis was headed. They locked gazes for a moment, and I was afraid one of them would swing on the other. Instead, Elvis broke the look and went inside his trailer, slamming the door shut behind him.

“You shouldn’t have said that, Jerry,” I admonished, my gaze fixed on the door through which Elvis had vanished.

“Even you think this whole Christmas special thing is stupid.” He pointed at the television. “Look at what’s going on. Look at the world. And we’re going to answer with silly songs about Santa Claus and reindeer.”

“Elvis is tryin’, Jerry! You just don’t understand.” I dashed to the trailer, opening and locking the door behind me.

Elvis sat on the couch, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand, lingering. He was looking out into space, conducting an internal conversation with himself. He just glanced up for a split second to see who had broken his silence. When he realized it was me, his face softened. He placed the whiskey glass on the table next to him and indicated for me to approach him. “C’mere, darlin’.”

My body felt like it was becoming hotter and hotter as I came closer to him. I'd become accustomed to his flirtation and playful pining. But the expression on his face was everything but lighthearted or taunting. Despite his kind manner towards me, I had never seen him seem so serious. I took a seat on the sofa next to him. He took my hand quickly and brought it to his lips to kiss my fingers. I let out a low gasp.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he looked up at me through his thick lashes, “I shouldn’a went off on Jerry like that. I know he means well.”

“He just doesn’t understand. You’re tryin’ to do everything for everybody. You’re tryin’ not to disappoint anyone, especially the Colonel. But it does go against everything you’ve ever told me you believed about yourself.”

Elvis toyed with my fingers almost hypnotically. He decided to look at this rather than at me. He drew designs on my palm. “You always know how to put what I’m feelin’ into words. You always understand.”

I gave a little grin. “Isn’t that why we became friends that first day? Because we understand each other?”

He put down his preoccupation with my fingers. “Are we really only friends?”

My breath became stuck in my throat. We were, of course. Friends only. It would be absurd to believe there was anything more to it, no matter how much I wanted there to be. I wanted his flirtation to be genuine. I wanted him to feel the same way I did. I wanted to be the one person who had his heart. But a small-town girl like myself, who was nothing unique in any way, had no such prerogative. He could have chosen more worthy people. After next week, after the Christmas special, he'd return to Memphis, and I'd have to accept that I'd never see him again. Tears welled up behind my eyelids, but I would not let them fall. “Elvis…”

Suddenly, Elvis drew me into his arms, squeezing my body against his such that I couldn't move away. Still, he held me as if I were made of glass. I breathed the fragrance that had become his distinctive aroma. He felt so powerful and solid against my body. I imagined he could hold me like this forever. He placed his ear to my lips. “Don’t cha know how I feel about you? The first time I looked into your eyes, dark and blue like a lake in the moonlight. And then we talked and talked and I didn’t feel so alone, so unseen.” He drew back far enough to look me in the eyes. The genuineness I witnessed in him almost broke my heart. “God, I think I fell in love with you right then.”

What I was hearing was unbelievable. I wanted to pinch myself because I thought I was in a dream. I'd fallen in love with him the first time he smiled at me, the sunshine glinting off his black locks. He couldn't possibly love me. Such things do not simply happen. “But…I’m not…I’m not pretty. I’m not famous. I'm nobody. Your fans, your career…what will everyone think seein’ you with me?”

Elvis shook his head, reaching out to cup my face. “Screw all of that. All I know is I don’t want our story to end when this movie is done filmin’. I know how much you risked comin’ out to Hollywood tryin’ to make it alone. But, darlin’, we ain’t got to be alone anymore.” He pulled a stray strand of black hair out of my face. “I’ll protect you. I’ll be with you and as long as I live, you’ll never want for nothin’. Just say you feel the same way.”

I couldn't keep my tears from falling. My heart was swollen to the point that I thought it may explode out of my chest. All I ever wanted to show was that I was more than a small-town girl, that I was more than what my parents thought of me. I simply needed to know that I wasn't bound to suffer and travel around the world alone. It was what drew me to Hollywood. But I had no idea it would lead me to Elvis. “Goddammit, Elvis Presley, of course I feel the same way.”

Elvis' lips were on mine before I could even breathe. We melded together like perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. His lips moved in unison with mine, his tongue stroking mine in a passionate embrace. I couldn't think of anything since my head was so light. My whole existence was overwhelmed by Elvis, by the sentiments I had suppressed for weeks, months. He positioned me so that my back was flat on the sofa, and he hovered over me, the majority of his weight resting on his forearms, which lay on each side of my head. We didn't let go of one other's lips until we both needed to come up for air. Even so, he bowed his head and began kissing my neck lightly.

“Angel…my angel…” he said between touches on my flesh. “Promise you’ll never leave me.”

The idea that I would ever consider it made me want to laugh. When his lips reached a sweet spot, it came out as a moan. "I promise."

Stay tuned for part 5!! Click HERE to view!

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[raginginkedslut]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕘

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Hi guys, finally here’s chapter 2!

TW: now we are getting real smutty, mentions of alcohol, slight mentions of foreplay, use of the words sir and daddy in a sexual way

Minors do not interact 🔞

Big daddy 70s Elvis x Reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Chapter 2: Hold it against me

After leaving your ex fiancé for cheating you find yourself at a dead end job, saving for a way out until you meet Elvis, he is persistent to take you out and you agree but will it end in romance,lust and passion or Hate,Heartbreak and Tears?

Word count:1,607

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Elvis smiled at your kiss a slight blush filling his cheeks, “thank you sir..” you realise your mistake calling him sir again “I’m sorry” he chuckles looking down at you as he leads you back to his car “I think I’m starting to like it” your face feels red, you get back into his car, he shuts the door behind you, getting in to the drivers seat he turns to you with a smile “where dya wanna go doll” he places a hand on your upper thigh, your knees gently clench together trying to hide the arousal of his touch “ oh um… where’s your favourite place to drink” he chuckles, noticing the way his touch made you feel, “I know the perfect bar, if you don’t mind a bit of a drive that is” you nod and smile at him replying sweetly “of course not… shouldn’t we have someone with us though…you know…just in case” you know how he always has his Memphis mafia with him for protection because of all the fans that like to follow and hound him “don’t you worry doll, they’ll be there “ he chuckles, as he begins to drive away the conversation dulls down until he breaks the silence “ so y/n why did you and that Ronnie guy break up” you look at him stunned with his abruptness “oh well… that girl you saw, I caught him with her” you sigh “ I understand why I mean I always thought it would happen, I’ve never been enough for anyone” he glares at the road and growls “well you’d definitely be enough for me” you blush at his words, feeling his hand slide up and down your thighs “thank you, that’s really sweet”

You pull in to a familiar parking lot and that’s when it hits you, you groan “oh god” you put your head in your hands, elvis looks at you puzzled “ what is it darlin” you look back up at him and sigh “ this is Ronnies bar, his hang out and where he works, it’s his night off so I just know he’ll be down here at some point” elvis grins and tightens his grip on your thigh just a bit “ that’s what I’m counting on doll” you pause “ how did you…” Elvis stops you and taps his finger to his nose as if to tell you it’s a secret , you giggle knowing what he’s implying and you both make your way out of the car to the back entrance of the bar,

the bouncers let you both in and elvis guides you to a VIP section where his mafia is already waiting,” guys you know y/n” they all smirk and greet you, you sit in the booth right next to elvis, his hand on your shoulder, a bottle of Champaign sits in a bucket of ice “here you go doll” he picks it up and pours you a glass “ let’s have a good time and just forget about everyone else” a number of drinks later you feel the buzz start coming, you and elvis giggling, deep in conversation “ so that’s when I said I’m done taking your shit and your small dick “ you both laugh as you tell him how you left Ronnie “ well good on ya doll” he chuckles as you both down your Champaign, “want another or shall we try something stronger”

he clicks his fingers and Jerry his right hand man brings a bottle of tequila “ you naughty boy” you giggle as you grab a shot glass, he chuckled as he pours you both a drink “now we could use some salt and lime” you joke “ way ahead of ya” Jerry adds, placing cut up pieces of lime and a shaker of salt , elvis adds “ you know how to do this doll” he smirks at you, you look at him and giggle “ just watch this” you grab the salt shaker, he puts his hand out and you bat it away “ ah ah” you tease, moving your hair away from your neck, sucking on your finger just to get enough wetness to run along your neck, elvis looks at you wide eyed as you dab salt onto your neck “what a bad girl” he exclaims before licking your neck and taking his shooter “and now the lime “ you tease, putting the rind between your teeth, he moves in closer taking a bite of the lime, you loosen your grip on it, dropping it to the floor, your lips meet and you can taste the bitterness of lime mixed with tequila and cigar smoke, and you loved it, his tongue enveloping yours, his hands round your waist, yours on his shoulders, you pull away panting and giggling “damn girl you’re a wild one” elvis chuckles “my turn “ you exclaim “okay wild thing” he exposes his neck, you take a long satisfying lick up his neck, you dab some salt to the glistening drool on his neck, licking the salt off you take your shot and bite into another piece of lime “ this is fun” you chuckle, “ it is doll, want some more?” You stare at him with hungry eyes and whisper “god yes” he chuckles, pointing to the champagne “ I meant this you dirty girl” you blush as he beckons Jerry over for another bottle, you both continue to drink and laugh, before you know it you’re perched on his lap playing with his chest hair

Out of no where you suddenly hear “y/n!” You’d know that voice anywhere, you grimace and turn to see Ronnie and his tart looking at you, you expect to hear I tirade of obscenities but instead your met with a joyful question “ mind if we join you and mr Presley” Ronnie grins at you, why is he still trying to get to elvis after all this?, before you can answer elvis says “of course buddy, you and your….girl can come up here if you want” you shoot a disapproving look to elvis to which he returns a reassuring one, Ronnie and the bimbo come and take a seat next to you both, you position your self next to elvis in the other side while Ronnie fauns over him asking a multitude of questions “ so mr Presley what made you take an interest in y/n, she’s so plain, you could have any girl you want “ elvis grits his teeth and puts his hand round your waist “ yeah I can get any girl and I want y/n” Ronnie laughs taking a drink, he was already slurring “ yeah but why” you look down at Elvis’s hand, you think, “why does he want me, he could have anyone” you’re snapped out of your thoughts

He growls “ because, she’s smart, funny, one hell of a drinker and god damn is she sexy” he turns to look at you, his hand getting dangerously high on your leg, he bites his lip as you blush, Ronnie sees the way you two look at each other and cackles “ I can’t believe Elvis Presley’s getting my sloppy seconds “ Elvis shoots him a glare, a wicked smile then forms across his face “ well from what I heard your firsts weren’t that sloppy or satisfied, so I guess I’ll have to change that” Ronnies smile quickly Fades and he snaps, “ what the fuck y/n, what you been telling him” you chuckle “ only the truth” Ronnies face turns a crimson red “come on babe” he goes to look at the blonde next to him only to find Jerry putting the moves on her “ what the fuck!” He storms out, the blonde following him crying out pleas of forgiveness, you and elvis laugh so hard, you turn to him and ask “ did you really mean what you said” he bites his lip again, nodding as he leans in, his big strong hands cupping your face, you both fall into each other kissing with so much heat and passion, you straddle him, deepening the kiss, you feel something pressing against your core, it’s his thick hardening cock, he pulls away panting “ sorry doll y..you’re getting me all hot and bothered” you look into his eyes kissing him hard once again, you begin to slowly grind against his shaft through his velvet pants, muffled moans escaping both of your lips “fuck darlin” he moans pulling his face away, you keep slowly grinding, your face becoming flushed red , he places a hand on your ass, squeezing gently “ mind closing these boys” he gestures to the curtains around the VIP area with his free hand, his mafia chuckle and oblige, as soon as the curtains close he pulls you off him, setting you down next to him, you look down at his clothed member, now throbbing and glistening from the wetness pooled between your legs “fuck baby… you’ve made such a mess”, you giggle and squeeze your legs shut “ no baby, show me that pretty little pussy” he grips your legs opening them until he can see your Lacey white panties that are completely soaked. “Fuck, so goddamn wet for me baby” he slides a finger down your lace covered folds, you moan softly as he continues to play with your wet throbbing heat, “mmm elvis” you moan, he pulls back, taking you in “ tell me what you want baby, tell daddy what you need” his words send shivers up your spine “ I…I need you…. All of you”….

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Thank you so much for the love on the first chapter I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it ❤️

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Taglist:

@dkayfixates

@that-hotdog

@cattcb

@kmc1989

If you want to be added to the taglist just lmk ❤️

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#elvis fans #elvis #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis the king #elvis aaron presley #elvis imagine #elvis smut #70s elvis #@big daddy elvis #Spotify

[be-my-ally]

"...Elvis has left for Graceland."

This is, uh, what I did with some *generally helpful information* about mirrors in Graceland (although tbh there's not even that many references to them here) and bde withdrawals. I lied - I thought my empty promises wip would be out first, but when inspiration hits and a shorter fic just pops out of your fingers - and the alternative is the dreaded editing, you end up with this instead! Enjoy my lovelies - this is also a little (ok a lot) for @thatbanditqueen - enjoy the references to red Graceland, the correct suit for the exact date, and even his exact upper of choice in spring summer ’74! Oh! and the dress pictured below is YSL from 1973 xx (and also @ellie-24, and @whositmcwhatsit for encouraging me! Surprise! We were discussing films and I was writing this!)

summary: you’re elvis’ girlfriend circa ’74, and have a lot of fun congratulating him after his recorded show in Memphis. 

pairing: afab!reader x elvis (of the big daddy flavour)

warnings: 18+, thigh-riding, the ripping of an expensive rental dress, big daddy elvis in all his big daddy-ness, yet again - reader sucks his tits idk man I didn’t think was gonna be a kink for me but clearly it is, v. minor references to his drug abuse, p in v sex, uhhhh…. Oh mirrors! I know Graceland wasn’t as, uh, dirty as Hillcrest but I think he still had enough fun there, Elvis keeps his jumpsuit on. this is essentially unedited so pls ignore any typos - I'll give it a look over in the morning!

wc: 4.1k - We did it baby! Concise smut!!

March 20th 1974 - Mid-South Coliseum Memphis

“…Elvis has left for Graceland.” 

You’re delayed in leaving - a problem with the valet, or the sound, or something that someone has to sort out - so despite the fact that Elvis himself has left you are stood, waiting, with a couple of the mafia boys for the other car to be brought around. Undoubtedly to be stuck in the hordes of fans and traffic on the way out. You hated being stood exposed like this, it made you feel like people’s wandering glances weren’t just sizing up the King’s new girlfriend, but laughing at you - at how you’re no more special than the rest of them. Stood in much the same way they all were. Left behind while he was whisked away to his palace. 

The temperature had dropped since you’d arrived here earlier, and you wished you’d thought to bring a jacket but the weather was just starting to warm up and you’d been thrilled to be able to wear a little strappy number - a little part of you, or maybe a large part, wanting to show off a little for the home crowd. Silver and diamanté straps that held up the draping gently twisted fabric that flowed in a column, brushing your curves - it was, expensive and flashy in a subtle way - it was almost too much for the concert. But, as always, you’d been outshined by Elvis’ own crystals - the stark white of his sparkling jumpsuit brighter than any of the stage lights. You’d worn it mostly for him though, despite the fact that he’d barely glanced at you in it.

By the time you’re all loaded into the car, heading the barely ten miles towards Graceland, the novelty of passing down Elvis Presley Boulevard from an Elvis Presley concert to go and see Elvis Presley still hadn’t waned. You smile a little at yourself and you can feel Charlie laughing from the other side of the backseat of the car, “God makes me laugh every time I see that damn sign - as if he needed a bigger head!” You laugh with him, but you can hear the affection in his voice - as if you were being let in to a joke of the inner circle; the joke about his large head being simultaneously true but also at odds with his nerves mere hours ago. Despite your traffic fears you make quick progress and it’s mere minutes before you’re pulling up to the drive, parting the crowd and through the gates. You’re quick out of the car but you’re surprised not to see or hear him when you walk through the front door, until Billy, coming around the corner, sees you and points upstairs. You nod and thank him but, not seeing the point in rushing if he’d gone to bed, you head to the kitchen - fetching a drink and take your time finishing it. You start to slowly make your way up the main staircase, stopping to check yourself out in the large mirror on the wall, reapplying a little lipstick just in case he was awake. 

When you walk in, he’s pacing at the bottom of his bed, still in the sweaty white jumpsuit, walking back and forth, he gestures past his padded doors, towards the landing and the huge mirrors he’d recently had installed on the ceiling to match those on the walls. “Saw you take your time, something more important than me baby?” You frown, shaking your head - you forget, when at Graceland, that his eyes are everywhere; even as much as in Hillcrest. 

“Course not babe, of course not!” He tuts, but you’d not been expected him to look so awake so you hadn’t thought you’d had to rush up to him; despite your desire to see him, and congratulate him on the show. So you have no words to your defence - you can’t exactly tell him you expected he’d be half out of it by now. You glance over at the gold foiled nightstand on his side - the orange bottle for his dexedrine open and on display. He follows your gaze, his own eyes hardening a little, tiny little lines forming on the edge of his still-linered lids. Neither of you mention his sudden burst of energy and where it came from. He turns back to you, hands on his hips. It draws your attention to his outfit. He’d not even changed from his stage jumpsuit - a rarity since he was almost always in his robe by the time he’d passed through his bedroom doors. It strangely matches well in the dark, red, interior of the room - red crystals of the fire suit almost the exact colour of the carpet. But it also, oddly, made him stand out even more - the crystals seeming like they were everywhere, like he was made to be stood in this room; reflecting across the mirrors, and emphasising the white of the jumpsuit - his skin jumping out. The zipper was low, as it had been all night and you rake your eyes over his exposed skin. He’d been exceptionally physical tonight, the showmanship spectacular and it was displayed in his chest and stomach shimmering with his still drying sweat. You feel yourself growing wet. 

“Shut the door honey,” You do as you’re told, he’s gruff, almost as if he feels he should be apologetic but would never admit it, “Not had time lately have we, huh, baby?” You shake your head in response, uncertain what to say -  you hadn’t, he’d been so busy worrying about these concerts, and then afterwards about the live recording - about the intricacies of the sound, of how the crowd noise will be isolated. It meant that as excited as you were to see him perform in Memphis, in his home - you were more excited to get past it to the month long break he was going to have. But you also knew how privileged you were to get any time with him at all, and you knew how quickly his moods changed lately. Unwilling to say anything that might make him reconsider his plans and head back downstairs, leave you alone, waiting and wanting while he entertained. 

“Well. We’re here now.” He moves over to you, determinedly catching you in a kiss. You squirm a little, eyes closed, trying to will away the thought that you weren’t the only woman he’d kissed this evening, force away the images of him with the girls in the front row. There was fewer than normal, chaste pecks on the cheek - he didn’t want to mess up the recording after all. But still, you’d felt the envy growing in you, jealousy burning through your veins. He makes you forget this though, as he rubs his hands down your arms, warming where they’d already grown cold in the frigid air of his bedroom and his tongue slips deeper into you. You can taste the gatorade of the night, mixed with the sparkling water he’d probably downed along with his uppers - the faint tingle of the carbon dioxide still present. He kisses down your cheek to your throat, leaving traces of your freshly applied lipstick from your own lips before he turns you around, facing the headboard, and walks you towards the bed - your legs bump against the end. He tugs at the straps that cross on your back, impatient. You wince, trying to stop him; 

“Elvis, baby, it’s a - a rental, gotta be careful, it’s one of a kind -“ 

“Fuckin’ fancy shit - get it off then, fuckin’ hate when you don’t just let me buy you -”  Despite his harsh words he kisses across your shoulder in between his words. You cut him off, 

“It’s not for sale El, so you couldn’t have even -“ 

“You tellin’ me what I can or can’t do now mama?” He toys with the strap, you think fast trying to stop what you’re sure is coming - 

“El, seriously - I didn’t mean it like that I just - ah!” He pulls the chain clean off - square crystals spilling over the bed. 

“Fuck - E!” He yanks the other one, this time accompanied by a little tearing noise as the seam rips from the back. Before you have time to protest any longer he’s pushing down the twisted top, your breasts popping out. He grabs your chin, pointing it towards the back of the bed - where the large mirror hangs - you can see yourself reflecting from the mirrors on the other walls too - the glances of different angles almost overwhelming. 

“Look at yourself.” He maintains his grip on your chin while palming one of his simultaneously thick but still sleek hands across your boob. He twists a nipple as you gasp, pulling it out a little. He pushes you up with his other hand, forcing you to balance on your knees on the end the bed, his own thigh coming in between to force them further apart and support some of your weight as you sink down a little. He hikes the long length of the dress up, grabbing your wrist and forcing you to hold it up yourself although the maxi-skirt still drapes and covers your modesty. He lets go of your face, pulling you back against him harder with both hands, and his stomach, more pronounced than before, bumps against your back. You stare, mouth open, as you watch his large hands span across your waist. His head is bent over into the crook of your neck, sucking a bruise onto the dip of your collarbone, his sweaty, fluffy, hair tickling your chin. He moves his leg a little, bending his knee onto the bed too, forcing it further into your crotch, allowing you to grind down on him. 

He pushes you down himself, hands on your hip bones and the soft flesh there, moving you in little circles feeling you rub against him. He suddenly, frantically, pushes the dress up further - exposing you entirely. You gasp, as he unveils your little secret of the night - not only had you not bothered with a bra - the dress being far too revealing for it, but the soft slippy fabric had clung to whatever underwear you had tried, ultimately leaving you to go commando for the night as well. He grunts against your skin, looking at you in the mirror over your shoulder, 

“You been like that all night, honey?” He traces a finger over the undercurve of the swell of your tummy, tickling a little, as he rotates it in little circles - teasing you in its pattern that’s reminiscent of how he often touches you. 

“Ye-es, they - they showed through,” He tucks your ass into him, his belt digging into you, and preoccupies himself with stroking a finger the length of your vulva, his thigh slightly getting in the way until you push yourself up a little more. 

“Surprised you ain’t already ruined that dress, how wet you are - bet you were drippin’ all over the place. Watching me.” He presses a finger into you, just the very tip, gently, his other hand coming back up to your nipple - you clutch at his arms; “Weren’t you?” 

“Probably, probably E - can’t help it around you, not when you’re performin’ looking so good -” He laughs, pulling his finger away, crooking it as he pulls it up - knocking one of his huge rings against your clit. He draws you back - his body moving with his laugh causing you to bounce you on his thigh. You let out a gasp that quickly turns to a moan, 

“You think I look good darling?” You meet his eyes in the mirror, they’re bright and impish; a smug little smile on his face. Any other time you might have teased him - but not today. Not with your angle changing slightly when he pushes you forwards a little, his broad, large thigh pressing firmly into you again, you can feel your labia spreading against his jumpsuit, tight weave of the dancer’s gabardine rubbing against you. You bob your head quickly; 

 “Of course, of course E - you look, looked amazing; don’t want you to take it off.” He laughs, as if you’ve given him an idea - or perhaps confirmed something he thought before, 

“Well, don’t be shy - prove it to me baby.” You gape at him, trying to twist around to do something - although you’re not sure what, to prove it to him, but he stills you with both hands holding you in place. Before he lifts you, manhandling you where he wants you as he pulls you off of him - moving to sit down on the fluffy circular chair in the corner, he keeps a hold of you as he goes, but allows you to turn, before yanking you back onto his lap. Resting your legs on either side of one of his thighs. You can feel the crystals on your inner thighs, rubbing against you and you’re sure you’re gonna have a weird form of beard-burn by the time you get up, but you don’t let it stop you and you rock back and forth on him. He takes a second to strip your dress completely off, leaving you completely nude where before your belly button had been afforded a little modesty but nowhere else and you brace yourself with hands on his shoulders to arch your back, pushing your tits out and grind down on him.

“That’s it baby, show me how much you love this ‘suit, want you to get me all wet darling, not letting you up till there’s a spot on me,” You can feel your heat rising just from his words, and the rough material under you provides just enough friction for you to feel yourself getting close. 

He pulls you closer to him, so that you’re rocking your body practically into his crotch, and the movement is pulling the jumpsuit off of his chest a little, the tiniest hint of a nipple peeking out. You lean forward, rocking against him and shifting your balance with your arms around his neck for stability. You can feel every part of the chest section of the jumpsuit rubbing against your skin, pinkening it with the feel of the stones but, as your own nipple catches between a group of them with a little prickle of pain, you can’t help but moan, it only adding to to your building pleasure. He lets out his own little grunt as you move your head to his neck - causing him to fall back against the chair further. You’re practically horizontal now, although his feet remain on the floor and it puts your cheek in contact with his chest. You nuzzle into him, unable to resist licking when he’s so close - so shiny, so tempting. He bucks his hips as you do as if you’ve unlocked a hidden sensitivity of his. It only spurs you on more, moving to suckle on his little pink nipple, one of your hands coming away from his neck to stroke his chest hair. You only realise you’d zoned everything but his chest out when you feel a hand in your hair, pulling your head back and you suddenly realise he’s been talking, babbling at you, the whole time but you’d had such a single-minded focus you’d not even noticed. 

“Lord baby, you gots a hot little mouth, hot fucking little lips. God baby, your tongue, where’d you learn to do that, huh? Liable to make a man cream his pants like that, honey, and wouldn’t that be a waste?” He strokes your face and you smile, looking up at him, as he lets go of your hair and rubs his hands down your sides again. It’s only a moment later when he’s hauling you off of him, struggling to his feet. You stand there, flushed but growing colder in the frigid air with every moment that passes without being pressed against his burning body heat, your nipples pebbling. You watch as he surveys the room for a moment, his own arousal more than a little apparent in the stretchy fabric of the jumpsuit - before sighing, 

“Simple’s the best. Right honey?” 

“Sure, I’m - I’m sure that’s right El,” You agree, but not really knowing what you’re answering and he catches you by the arm pushing you backwards onto the bed, you gasp and scrabble backwards at his insistent pushing. A moment later you understand as he’s pulling the belt off, unzipping himself finally and, - oh, he’s not taking it off, he’s just unzipping the suit all the way, pulling his cock out. You groan, head falling back against the mountain of pillows. You’d never, never have mentioned how much you wanted this, to have his thick powerful body still encased in his jumpsuit as he fucks you. His magnetism, the sexual energy from the concert and his presence on the stage being impressed upon you with every brush of your naked body against the fabric - against the rhinestones. 

He pulls himself back a little before slipping a finger into you, ring bumping against your folds, it sinks in easily - you’re already so ready, just from bouncing on his thigh, and to be honest you’d been wet enough from the moment Also Sprach Zarathustra had turned into See See Rider. He hums, pleased that you’re soaking for him, and he doesn’t wipe off his finger before pushing it into your mouth, 

“That’s it baby, suck it off, taste yourself on me,” You obediently do as he says, sucking down - hollowing your cheeks, eyes wide. He pulls it out to balance himself on one hand, grasping his cock in the other, pumping it a couple times before lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Better be ready for me honey - ‘cause I’m sure as hell ready to sink into your tight little cunt.” You gasp as he doesn’t even wait for a reply, pushing himself into you. He’s pressing into you from all angles as you slowly adjust to his length within you, his soft tummy - crystals pressing into you from above, his musky chest just below your eye-line and his arm bracketing you into him from the other side of your neck. He stills for a second, before leaping into motion, struggling slightly to move himself more upright, keeping himself in you and pulling you close against him with a hold on your hips. You’re on your back while he kneels up now, allowing him to lift your butt a little, and thrust a little deeper. You squirm on him, little moans and gasps being released - you’ve not yet been able to get past having had the bedroom next to your parents growing up. He grabs your hips now, rings pressing in tight, to move your body onto him as he pumps into you. He’s talking the whole time - the man’s unable to stay quiet any moment he’s awake - 

“Oh god darling, never gonna be able to wear this suit ‘gain, Lord how’re you, so -” He thrusts in, hard, to punctuate his next sentence - “so - fucking - tight.” His breathing is already growing heavier, “How’re you so goddamn tight - like Lil’ Elvis is caught in a - ah - fucking vice. God, look at you.” 

You look up at him, fresh sweat starting to form at his chest and brow, he’s not even looking at you though, and you wonder who that last comment had been aimed at as he’s staring at his own reflection in the mirror. You’re glad though, when he smiles - eyes bright when he does glance back at you; whatever he’d seen had clearly cheered him up and out of his self-conscious mood, enough to encourage a sudden burst of energy again. He drags you back, lifting his own hips enough to spear into you at just the right angle. As he hits that perfect spot inside of you repeatedly he moves his hand from where it was still clutching your hip to stroke down across your mound, it’s a slightly awkward angle but he manages to swipe his thumb perfectly across your clit - your leg jerking, and your back arching in response. 

“Oh - Elvis, oh god, I’m so fucking close - babe you gotta, just keep -” He grunts above you, his thumb keeping pace, and his cock thrusting in at the same speed. It’s mere seconds, 

“Fuck - baby, you’re squeezin’ ‘round me so fuckin’ ti-ght, that’s a good fucking girl, my good girl.” Before it’s enough to send you over the edge, clenching down on him and shuddering, your mouth agape and your eyes shuttering closed as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. 

“Oh, oh - god, Elvis -” His pace changes, and it drags you back from floating, as he just goes for it at a rapid pace, fingernails clawing at your skin, before his hips are stuttering and he’s quickly pulling out as the first streaks of his ejaculate shoot across your pussy, he pulls himself up, pumping it across your tummy, and you moan at the sight - him looking goddamn regal - sparkling in the dim light as he shoots across you. He moves one of his hands to rub it over you, between your folds and over your stomach -  into your belly button. Before he collapses on top of you,  practically smothering you, in an effort to reach your mouth to kiss you - your legs are so tired and tense but you can just about lift them up to come around to grasp at him, barely noticing the now-familiar scratch of the rhinestones, locking your ankles over his back. You’re probably smearing cum all over the jumpsuit but you don’t care - too desperate to feel him close to you. You lock lips for a long moment, letting him take whatever he wants, underneath him like this it’s difficult to feel anything but utterly submissive and at his mercy. Your lips are bitten and raw by the time he pulls away and rolls off of you, and you can’t do anything but lie there, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. You look over at him, and he’s in practically the exact same position, soft matted chest hair wet with sweat and his little rounded tummy poking out of the unzipped suit with his now soft cock resting outside too, but smiling up at the ceiling - 

“Wish I still had my scarf - wouldn’t even have to get up to find something to wipe us down with,” You laugh with him, just barely getting the effort yourself to stand, on shaky legs, you’re sweaty and damp yourself and you can’t imagine how he feels - going straight into this after a two hour long concert, so you chivvy him up, 

“C’mon then El, I’ll run us a bath - we can get all clean together,” He hums, sounding as if he’s close to his come down already, 

“ ’S-ok little one, I can - just need a, a, wipe down.” You frown, you like his musk but no way in hell are you getting back into bed with him like this, but you’re not quite sure how to say it without starting an argument, when strangely, for once - Elvis seems to sense your reluctance, “Alright, alright, fine. But only if I get you all wet and warm in my lap,” he laughs to himself again, “well - warm and wet again - huh, darlin’,” You giggle with him, walking gingerly to put the bath on, and as you stand up he’s already stood behind you - crowding you against the dark bathroom wall, stroking your sides with his thick fingers, he tips your chin up to look you right in the eyes - “Thank you for that though little one, needed - needed to see how much you like me, see me again, been - I’ve been so distracted I ain’t had chance to even look at myself in weeks.” You smile, 

“Of course Elvis, I’m all yours - anytime.” You pause, wondering if you should mention it, “Seriously though - we’re gonna have to get Bill or Ciro -  someone’s gotta fix that dress,” He just laughs at you, shaking his head - 

“Honey, I told you - I’ll just buy it.”

#big daddy elvis fanfic #big daddy elvis #70s elvis fanfic #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley smut #elvis x reader #elvis smut #elvis x you

[darkmatters-ghost]

I've run into a problem...

06 sucks!

Like we knew that, but writing wise, 06 is such a mess, and I don't- I don't know what to do about it, I have fanfic ideas that take place in 06! And it's such a mess that I feel like it'll tank the quality of my fanfic just from its garbage-ness!

And you might be thinking, oh, but 06 isn't that bad, you said yourself, it's one of your favorite games of all time, and other people deal with it just fine so–

No, you don't get it, it is that bad. And you can tell because almost nothing from that game made it out alive. Like, conceptually, there's some really cool stuff in 06. Crisis City's unique environment, Mephiles as a villain, double chaos control time powers (well...), Iblis, Soleanna. All that stuff is good, but because it was in 06. 06's garbage kinda rubbed off on it, and when everyone realized the game was horrible (including SEGA) all that stuff was never attempted again. No one decided to try and make Mephiles work in new games, no mention of Crisis City, or Solanna, or anything. It all just died with the game. Which makes it all the more impressive that Silver made it out alive.

But that's not the point. We all know it's bad.

The point is that idk where to go from here? Do I keep it the way it is? Do I change it? I'm leaning towards change but what should I change? Would people like those changes?

For example, Blaze is a mess. She's "got amnesia" or whatever, and she's here, but she doesn't talk to anyone but Silver (she almost does when she says "blue hedgehog" but that barely makes any sense and it wouldn't surprise me if it was secretly a pun lost in translation), she always seems to know what Silver was up to even if she wasn't there, she doesn't affect the plot other than making Silver doubt his judgement and then leaving, it's-, it's just a mess.

So, what if we cut Blaze out, altogether? Like, she left before Silver runs into Memphis so Silver's on his own. And since silver can't rely on her to tell him whether or not to trust Mephiles, it makes it so Silver believing him shows it off as a character trait of Silver's desperate naivety instead of it feeling like Blaze sitting there watching him get tricked cuz "it'd be funny". That whole scene really feels like Silver and Blaze get tricked by Mephiles because the plot demanded it of them more than anything else.

Plus, if you don't have Blaze here, Silver's heroes journey can be, in part, trying to figure out what to do when no one's around. Lean on other people less, make his own choices. You wouldn't even really need to cut Blaze's dialogue because Silver would be thinking "what would Blaze do/say?"

And I think it'd add to their friendship, the idea that when he comes back to the future and says he knows how to defeat Iblis, she just goes along with it, and is willing to do anything for Silver because they have such a strong relationship, because she trusts him.

But would people like that retcon? What if people hate it cuz there's less Blaze content?

Idk. It's just something I've been thinking about, there's more things I'd like to change, but luckily, a lot of 06 can be improved by adding extra context, or slightly different introductions that barely change the story.

I'd love to hear what other ppl have to say about dealing with 06's writing, tho

#dadow #dadow related #shadow the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog #sth #sonic 06 timeline #fanfic #psychic and empathetic au #kinda #the musing of a tired fanfic author #blaze the cat

[alj4890]

If you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs! Anon or not, doesn’t matter!

Oof, I got five of these requests now 😂 Does that mean fifteen facts? I'll try to do three for each ask. I'm nowhere near interesting enough for this 🤣 Thanks @jerzwriter @angelasscribbles @twinkleallnight @peonierose @aussiegurl1234 for the asks 🥰

1. I have never left the United States. There were multiple times where I'd planned a trip or planned on spending a semester of school out of the country, but something major would happen to keep me stuck here 🤣 I don't think I'll ever get out of here😂

2. I'm an only child who grew up outside of Memphis, TN on fifty acres of land. My only neighbors were family members. My cousins are fourteen, eleven, and nine years older than me, so it was up to my imagination to entertain myself 😂

3. I married an only child. My husband and I decided to have at least two children after his father became seriously ill with his heart and we saw how hard it was on my husband in having to make all the decisions concerning life support. That's how I ended up being the mother of two.

4. I've never had to study. If I read something once, I'm able to remember just about all of it. Not really a photographic memory but close to it. I'm the same with hearing something. I can usually walk out of a movie theater, quoting lines from certain scenes.

5. I never wanted a big wedding (even though I have a huge extended family) because I hate being the center of attention. I dreamed of eloping somewhere beautiful, on a spur of the moment decision. I kinda got my dream. My husband gave in to eloping in the Smoky Mountains during a very snowy January, but he wanted it planned with a tux and wedding dress and just our parents. I gave in and was happy I did after finding the perfect dress and in seeing how much it meant to our parents

6. When I was twenty-nine, I had to have a complete hysterectomy. Benign tumors had taken over my ovaries and were embedded in my uterus. The ones in my uterus had grown and stretched it to the point where it was the size it would have been if I was three months pregnant. Since I wasn't pregnant, it was some of the worst physical pain I've ever experienced with it pressing into various nerves in my back and pelvic region. I've never been more excited to have surgery than that day.

7. I'm not really a crier. I can watch sad movies, lose loved ones, be depressed, but the tears rarely fall. People have been shocked and thought I either didn't really love them or that I have no heart. Trust me, I do, I just don't really cry. The few times I have broken down and actually had tears, my loved ones and friends have panicked not knowing what to do since I'm supposed to be the stoic one of the bunch. It ends up being like that scene in Sense and Sensibility when Emma Thompson breaks down 🤣 Everyone freezes or tries to leave the room 😂

8. I love to laugh and joke around. I have both a silly and extremely sarcastic sense of humor. I use humor in everything and as often as I can. I'm the one you sit by during serious situations if you want to diffuse the tension with a giggle. I've even made people laugh at funerals during my eulogies (all respectful and usually just a funny, sweet anecdote about my loved one). Life is too precious to not find all the little bits of joy we can.

9. I did everything that my late aunt predicted I would in life. She said I would get a teaching degree, which I did. She said I would meet my husband before I graduated college, which I did. She then said I would teach a few years before having my first child, which I did. She then said I would probably get my masters degree between my first and second child, which I swore I was done with college when I graduated but I did do that very thing and got my M.A.Ed. focusing on library sciences between having my two. And to make it all the sweeter, I ended up being like her with having two sons who were exactly the same years and months apart in age as hers were. She was beyond thrilled that I was just like her in that aspect 😂

10. I always thought I would have girls (most of my family has nothing but girls or at least one) Me and my late aunt were the only two to have nothing but boys. It worked out great for me. I've never been into fashion, not really into anything really girly, can't fix hair at all 🤣, and always loved all the superheroes, video games, and Star Wars stuff that makes me the perfect mom for my two boys.

11. I love classic movies. The silent era, the thirties (especially Pre-Code) and the forties are my favorites. I'm amazed with the special effects, the stunning sets, stories, and amazing acting the stars of the Golden Age of Hollywood created. I will devour not only their films, but biographies on anyone working during that time, documentaries, and any tidbit I can find. I was born during the wrong era.

12. I truly believe I could survive happily on nothing but cheese dip, chips, and salsa. And peppers! Jalapeno and Pepperoncini are my favorites. Ghost pepper is becoming a favorite too. Last night, I made a bowl of peppers and ate them like popcorn while watching TV. I love to burn 🤣

13. Winter is my favorite season. Snow is beautiful and I wish I lived somewhere where it was guaranteed to fall for months on end. That's the dream. One day, I hope to move either to Wyoming or to Maine (I've visited both and fell in love with both of them) 😂

14. The hardest thing I've ever experienced in my life was when I suffered a miscarriage. It was my first pregnancy and it was one that wasn't planned. My husband and I had only been married for about six or seven months when I discovered I was pregnant. I was over the moon excited. I bought maternity clothes, started buying baby things like little outfits, bows, toys, etc. Then I started cramping near the end of the third month. Tests were done and it showed the baby stopped developing at eight weeks. No heartbeat. Nothing. I was devastated. I actually prayed I would die during the D and C. I hoped I would have an allergic reaction and die right there on the operating table. I thought it would be easier for my family to lose me that way. I felt like my body had betrayed me in the worst possible way. I hated it and I couldn't stand the depression that set in. This was one of the few times I cried, especially when I woke up after the procedure and saw I'd survived. I continued to pray for death for a few months after it. I knew I couldn't hurt my family by commiting suicide, nor could I talk to them about my feelings, so I begged God to make my heart stop, make my car run off the road and hit a tree, anything to stop the pain I felt. I then begged my husband for a divorce. I didn't want to be around anyone. I didn't want comfort, couldn't stand for anyone to touch me or hug me. I hated our home and the memories it now held for me. I wanted to simply disappear and feel nothing. I didn't want to talk to anyone, respond to what was going on around me, pretend that life was still going on. It was the darkest time in my life. I've written about the one night I broke down the hardest with my husband in a Thomas Hunt fic which was almost cathartic. Everything he and my OC say is the conversation my husband and I had that long and painful night. It still hurts after all these years later, though nowhere near that it once did, and every May I can't help but think I should be celebrating my first child's birthday.

15. That above fact shouldn't be one to end on, so let's end with something funny. With my oldest son, I had an ultrasound to find out if he was a boy or girl on April 1st. Our technician was known to joke around, so I was highly doubtful I was having a boy. I was convinced she was pulling an April Fool's prank on me 🤣 Until he popped out and the proof was in front of me, I thought he might end up really being a girl so I made sure to have a gender neutral outfit packed just in case it really was a joke 😂

#asks answered #three facts about me #or fifteen LOL

[vintagepresley]

Bro the Elvis fandom on Twitter is insane. This is why I never go on there. So much drama for no reason. Like are y’all good? Going this crazy over this Priscilla movie. We get it we’re all worried it may not paint him well. But Sofia also said he’s more of a side character. Why are people already fighting with other people amongst fandom and the movie isn’t even out yet. Then saying if people like Priscilla they aren’t a true E fan. Who are you to tell someone if they’re a true E fan or not? You don’t own Elvis. Everyone is allowed to love him and like whoever else they like. Just like there’s people who love the Memphis Mafia or other people in his life that didn’t particularly paint him in a good light.

Be so fucking for real. This is what I mean people are really going to let some movie start issues within the fandom. There’s always going to be people who hate Elvis and say terrible things about him because they refuse to do actual research. But who cares! Ignore it. Continue to love him and the wonderful person that he was. We all know he wasn’t perfect and that’s okay. But for people to be really this upset and arguing with other fans. We don’t all have to agree and that’s fine. But don’t be rude and disrespectful because you don’t like what someone has said. Don’t try to dictate who or what makes a “true Elvis fan” just because they may like someone in his life that you don’t.

I surely hope that doesn’t start to happen here because it’s so stupid. Anyway, I just really needed to rant about that.

#I was curious what people were saying on there and it’s like chaos #lmfaoooo #but also why are we acting like we didn’t know this movie was happening #it’s been in the works for months and now everyone is in an uproar???