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jhoneybees · 4 days ago

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If I Can Dream: Chapter 3

A/N: I hope you are all enjoying this one! I love Jo so much and this story is about to really heat up. Head to my Masterlist for the first two chapters!

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, we've reached the smut! Oral sex, p in v sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, also erectile dysfunction frustration

Word count: ~4k

But he misses her in his arms, the big bed feeling cold and empty.

******

Jo drags herself through work on Thursday, coming home to immediately get in the bath with a bottle of wine. She puts on an Elvis record, the B side to Promised Land, and sobs to the sound of his voice. She knows it's silly to be sad over something that never really happened, but she'll never stop loving him. The record stops and she gets out of the tub, wrapping herself in a fluffy robe and resetting the needle. It’s Midnight plays again and she lays on the bed crying with the album cover in her arms. She's in this position when Evelyn calls.

“Oh, Jo-Jo, surely you knew it wasn't going to go anywhere. The man dates beauty queens and Playboy bunnies.” Jo takes a big gulp of wine.

“Yeah, but you weren't there when we woke up on the couch together. We talked for hours.” Evelyn sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Okay, you're right. But will you give it up now? You met him. You went to his house. And now it's done. So please, ask Alan to the wedding. I don't want you to be the only one without a date.”

“Yeah.” Jo takes a deep breath and sighs. “Yeah, I'll ask Alan tomorrow.”

******

Elvis spends the whole of Thursday in bed. The aching loneliness is back and he just can't seem to find a reason to do much else. At around 1am, there's a soft knock on his door.

“Who is it?” Jerry pokes his head in the door.

“It's just me, boss.”

“Hey, Jer.”

“You alright?” Jerry enters the room and sits on the end of the bed.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Elvis doesn't move from his position in the bed on his side. Jerry looks at him silently for a while. He's not sure what to do to help, but he knows he needs to try something. An idea comes to him; it's risky, but he has to try.

“What happened to that girl?” Elvis tries to keep his breathing even.

“What girl?” Jerry rolls his eyes. He knows Elvis knows who he's talking about.

“Jo? Wasn't that her name?”

“She's gone.” Elvis closes his eyes and tries not to picture her, think about her laugh, or the scent of her hair.

“I thought she lived in Memphis.” Jerry knows he's pushing his luck here, but he's not going to give up.

“She does! Leave me the fuck alone, Jerry!” Elvis sits up and yells, cringing with the stiffness of having been in bed all day. Jerry purses his lips.

“All I'm sayin’ is you were happier in those 24 hours with her than you have been in years. Maybe it's worth givin’ her a call.” He stands and walks from the room, slamming the door behind himself.

Elvis lays back down and tries to think of anything but Jo, but it doesn't work. Eventually, he sits up and stares at the phone. He picks up the receiver no less than four times before he gets up the courage to dial her number.

Jo’s phone rings and rattles her from her deep slumber. Her head already hurts a little from the wine, but when she realizes what's happening, she takes a deep breath and grabs the phone.

“Elvis…”

“Hi honey.” She looks up at the ceiling and tries to keep her tears in her eyes. “Were you, um, were ya sleepin’?”

“Yeah, I was. It's almost 3am. Again.”

“Oh…” Elvis starts to lose his nerve, thinking this was a terrible decision. “I'm sorry; I-I'll leave ya alone.”

“No! It's okay. I'm… glad you called…”

“Are ya?” She laughs softly.

“Yeah, of course I am.” He smiles and relaxes into the conversation. His first instinct is to ask her to come over, but he stops himself before he does. He's afraid that might send the wrong message.

“You workin’ tomorrow?” She sighs.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” He nods, forgetting that she can't see him. And then it just slips out before he can stop it.

“You should come over when you're done.” He cringes a little, knowing that this whole thing is probably a mistake.

“Elvis, I'd love to, I really would, but I promised my niece I would take her to see Christmas lights.” Jo curses under her breath, hating the idea of turning down a chance to see him again. “Why don't you come with us?”

“Oh, honey, I-I-I-” He stumbles over his words trying to come up with an excuse.

“I've just decided. You're coming with us. I think you need to get out of that house.”

“Jo, honey, I don't-I can't-”

“What? Ride in a car? Yes you can. I'll pick you up around 5:30.” Something about the way she says it makes him feel like he couldn't say no even if he wanted to.

******

At about 5:45pm, Jo pulls up to the Graceland gates with her niece Amy in the backseat of her old pea-green car and asks to be let in. Jerry is so happy to see her back that he's practically bouncing when he opens the front door.

“Hey, Jo! He'll be down in a second.” She nods and they wait in the foyer. Eventually Elvis comes down in a two-tone blue suit. He had originally had on one of his tracksuits but decided to change at the last second, and he's glad he did. Jo is so cute in her little cowl-neck sweater dress and boots that he almost hopes photographers will find them. She lights up when she sees him and he can't help but smile too.

“Hi! This is my niece-” The little girl sticks out her hand.

“Amy Louise Jenkins.” Elvis smiles down at her and takes her hand, shaking it gently.

“Elvis Aaron Presley. It's a pleasure to meet you.” Jo has to physically stop herself from melting on the spot. “How old are ya? You seem about the same age as my Lisa Marie.”

“I'm seven, but I'll be eight in May.” He nods.

“I was right. Lisa will be eight in February.” She smiles and turns to Jo, taking her hand in one and Elvis's in the other.

“Let's go see some lights!” Elvis looks at Jo over Amy's head and shrugs. Jo suppresses a grin and they make their way out to her old, beat-up car. Elvis looks at it and turns to her with his eyebrows raised.

“Not all people drive Cadillacs.” Jo whispers.

“No, honey, I know that. It's fine.”

The rest of the evening passes with all three of them belting out Christmas carols as they drive around the wealthier neighborhoods in Memphis looking for lights. In the beginning, Elvis wouldn't sing, but with some gentle cajoling from Jo and Amy, he finally breaks down. When Blue Christmas comes on, he sheds any last hints of nervousness and puts on a full show. The girls both applaud wildly and he has to grab the wheel when Jo almost crashes into a parked car in her enthusiasm. When he does, he unintentionally puts his arm behind her on the seat and she leans her head on his shoulder.

“You want me to drive, honey?” He speaks softly, enjoying the feel of her so close to him.

“Yeah, do you mind?”

“Not at all.” She parks the car and he replaces her in the driver's seat. He's surprised but pleased when she settles onto his shoulder again.

By 8 o’clock, Amy is snoozing soundly in the backseat and Elvis follows Jo's directions to her stepsister’s house. When they get there, Jo looks into the backseat and sighs.

“I'm not sure how I'll get her to the door without waking her up.”

“I got ‘er.” Elvis is not sure where his confidence comes from, but she's no bigger than Lisa Marie and he carries her all the time. They get out of the car and he scoops Amy into his arms, walking up to the front door. For a second, he forgets who he is until Jo's brother-in-law answers the door and his jaw drops. Jo realizes what's happening and interjects.

“Hey, Rob, this is Elvis.” Her brother-in-law scoffs.

“Yeah. I know.” Elvis tries to smile genially.

“She fell asleep in the car. Hope this is okay.” Rob nods, still a little starstruck and takes Amy from him.

“Thanks…”

“Goodnight, Rob.” Jo takes Elvis's arm and turns him around to head back to the car. She can only keep her giggles under control for a few feet before she lets them out. He looks at her, amused.

“What's got you tickled?”

“His face! I forgot who you were for a second.” He chuckles.

“Honestly, so did I.” They get back in the car and she leans on his shoulder again for the drive back to Graceland.

When they get back to the house, Elvis parks Jo's car in the driveway and his stomach sinks at the thought that she'll go home soon. Again, he wants her to stay, but he's nervous about her expectations in the bedroom.

“Can I come in?” He raises his eyebrows, surprised at her boldness.

“Umm…”

“I'm just not ready to go home yet. And I feel like every time I leave, the likelihood of seeing you again decreases.” He swallows, knowing that she's right. The more he allows himself to think about it, the more he worries whether this should continue. But when she's here right in front of him, it's hard to turn her down. He feels himself nod.

“Yeah. I dunno what we'll do-”

“We'll find something. Let's go.” He has to admit, her happy-go-lucky attitude is infectious.

They get into the foyer and she looks around the house while he stands there awkwardly.

“Umm…”

“You don't have a Christmas tree.” He hadn't even realized. Usually he's instructed someone to set it up by now, but this year he forgot.

“No, I guess I don't. I'll have someone set it up before Lisa Marie comes.”

“We’ll do that!” He looks at her confused.

“Tell someone to set up the tree?” She purses her lips.

“No, ya brat, we’ll do it ourselves and decorate it.” He scowls.

“I ain't a brat.”

“I know. So quit actin' like one. Let's get the tree. Where is it?”

“I think it's in storage somewhere. Mary probably knows.”

“Well, okay then. Let's go.” She walks towards the kitchen and he follows her. He's quickly learning that when she puts her mind to something, she's going to make it happen regardless of the obstacles. In general, he's not used to this level of agency or determination in a woman, but at his age it's kind of nice to not be in charge for once.

With Jerry and Mary's help, they manage to locate the tree and boxes of decorations. It takes them a while, but after lots of direction from Jo and laughter from both of them, they manage to get it done.

“Okay, plug it in!”

“Yes ma'am, miss bossy.” He gives her a little salute and she giggles. The sound of her laugh warms him from the inside out and he thinks to himself that taking her instruction is worth it for this feeling. The thought gets even stronger when he plugs in the tree and she squeals with delight.

“Oh, it's so pretty! Elvis come look!” He stands and walks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist instinctively. Maybe he could just let this happen.

“It is pretty.” He murmurs in her ear.

“You know the best way to look at a Christmas tree, right?”

“This seems like a pretty good way.”

“C’mere.” She moves away from him and he decides he needs to get her back in his arms as quickly as possible. He watches as she lays down on the floor with her head up under the tree. “Ahhh, get down here. It's gorgeous.”

Shaking his head, he lowers himself to the ground and grunts as he arranges to be under the tree. He's not sure how he'll get up again, but when he sees her with the colored lights shining on her face, he decides he doesn't care.

“Isn't it pretty?” She looks over at him and he brings his hand up to her cheek, running his thumb across it gently.

“Beautiful.” He can no longer stop himself as he leans over and presses his lips to hers.

The kiss is soft and sweet, but when he pulls back to look at her, his heart skips. He hasn't felt like this about a woman in a long time and it scares him. She leans in to kiss him again and he backs away.

“You wanna tour?” He smiles awkwardly and she blinks a few times.

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” She's completely confused by his quick shift, wondering if she's done something wrong, but she follows his lead as he moves from under the tree. It takes them both several tries and quite a bit of grunting, but eventually they both make it back to standing. He holds both of her hands in his and looks down at her. Almost against his will, he leans in and kisses her softly. There it is again, the heart skip that makes him so nervous. He pulls back from the kiss and just looks at her. She's completely perplexed by his kisses and subsequent hesitation, but before she can say anything, he wraps an arm around her waist and starts to lead her through the house.

The last place he shows her is the pool. He realizes it hasn't been drained and curses Jerry. It's freezing outside, so he holds her again from behind with her head against his chest.

“We should jump in.” She says quietly. He laughs and presses his lips to her temple. Why can't he keep himself from kissing her? He’s torn from that thought when she speaks again. “I'm serious! I've heard it's good for you. Let's do it.”

“Honey, you're crazy.”

“Am I? I'm doing it.” She pulls away from him and walks to the edge of the pool.

“Jo, no. It might be dangerous.” Putting her hands on her hips, she turns to face him.

“Nah. And anyway I thought you were a daredevil? What happened to the guy who had firework fights?”

“He had to grow up.” There's a hint of bitterness in his voice. She shakes her head, walking towards him and resting her hand on the side of his face.

“No. Time passed. Growing up is optional.” He leans down and kisses her again. It's like he can't get enough. She mumbles against his lips. “I refuse.”

Then, she turns and takes off running, jumping into the pool fully-clothed. The cold water overwhelms her body with sensation, shocking her system.

“Jo!” When she surfaces she lets out a little scream and shivers.

“Come on! Don't make me do this by myself!”

“You're fucking crazy, honey.”

“Yeah! And you're a pussy.” He scowls again, his masculinity offended.

“No, I ain't.” Her teeth chatter, but she refuses to back down.

“Prove it.” He puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head.

“Damn it, honey.” She giggles as he walks to the edge of the pool. He looks up at the sky when she gestures for him to join her. The stars twinkle down on him and he wonders: what if he does take this plunge with her? Would it kill him? Unlikely. And if he doesn't do it, what is he choosing instead? Suddenly, he's not just thinking about the pool. He looks back down at her, shining with life and sparkling like the stars. “Alright, fuck it.”

And then he jumps. His whole body screams when the icy water crashes into his skin. But he survives and feels more alive than he has in years. He surfaces and pulls her to him, kissing her deeply. This time when his heart skips, he leans into it, slipping his tongue into her mouth and pushing his body against hers. Every part of him buzzes with life and need and something he can't quite put his finger on. She shivers in his arms, not sure if it's the cold from the water or the heat from the kiss that's running through her. He pulls back and runs his fingertips down the side of her face.

“Honey, you're shakin’. Let's go inside.” She nods and kisses him deeply again.

They manage to get out of the pool and run through the house to the upstairs bathroom, giggling like teenagers and dripping all over the carpet. He starts a hot shower and they both start stripping off wet clothes. When they're down to their underwear, he grabs her and pulls her to him, crashing his lips into hers in a full open-mouthed kiss. They tumble into the shower together and moan as the hot water touches their skin. He doesn't stop her when her hand drifts below his waist, dipping into his underwear. To his own surprise, he's hard as a rock and he groans as she strokes him gently. His hands move over her whole body, unclasping her bra and pushing her panties down frantically.

“Bed?” She mumbles as she removes his underwear, leaving them both naked. He's so relieved she suggested it, he nods vehemently without moving his mouth from hers. A decade ago, he would've just bent her over in the shower, but now he needs something a little more stable. What he doesn't know is she does too. She might be 4 years younger, but she's no twenty-something and the thought of getting on her knees in the shower is not appealing. They quickly dry off, still pressed together, and he walks her backwards into the bedroom, where she lays on the bed and he crawls on top of her, dropping hot kisses on her skin wherever he can reach. She spreads her legs and he goes to push into her, but the move from the bathroom was a little too much for him.

“God fucking damnit!” He curses loudly and she grabs his face.

“It's okay.” When he tries to protest, she shakes her head and pushes him onto his back. “Do you think this is the first time this has happened to me? It's okay, Elvis.”

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, but he whips them open again when he feels her mouth around his soft cock.

“Honey, I don't know if-”

“Shh. Let me work. You just think about what it would feel like to fuck me. Focus on the sensations of it. Tell me how my pussy feels, babe.” She goes back to moving her mouth on him.

“Jo…”

“Tell me.” He sighs and closes his eyes again. What she's doing does feel really good and imagining having sex with her is easier than jumping in the pool was, so he tries to think about it.

“It's tight… wet…”

“What else, babe?”

“It's… squeezing my cock just right…” He starts to get into it, losing himself in his fantasy and the way her mouth and hand feels on him. “I can feel you cum; you're so sexy when you cum for me.”

He moans softly and she tries not to smile as he begins to harden in her mouth. She swirls her tongue around his sensitive head and takes his balls in her hand to massage them as she works.

“Fuck, yeah baby. God that's good.” In another few seconds, he's as hard as he was in the shower and she sits up, stroking him with her hand.

“You wanna actually feel me now? See if your imagination was right?” She hovers over him, dragging the tip of his dick against her entrance to cover it in her arousal.

“More than anything.” He grabs her hips and she whimpers as she starts to sink onto him, moving slowly to give herself the chance to adjust.

“Oh god… fuck.” She groans as he fills her fully, his cock so deep inside her as she grinds against his hips. She starts to pick up a steady rhythm of sliding him in and out, bouncing and rolling and moaning.

“Better… it's better…” He groans, running his hands up to cup her breasts. She arches her back as she pushes him even deeper, his cock hitting her g-spot with every movement.

“Fuck, Elvis…”

“You've got a dirty mouth, honey.” She laughs.

“You didn't seem to mind when it was wrapped around your cock.” He blushes a little, still unaccustomed to women who own their sexuality. His hands move down to grip her hips as he helps her move on him.

“Careful. Keep this up and I'll fill that pretty little mouth again.” He grabs her chin and runs his thumb along her bottom lip. She pulls his thumb into her mouth and swirls her tongue on it.

“You promise?” She smiles mischievously and he grabs her, pulling her down onto his chest.

“Gonna fill this pretty little pussy with cum first, honey.” He whispers in her ear as he starts to thrust up into her from underneath. She whimpers, the change in position pushing her to the edge of an orgasm.

“Yes! Oh god… I'm so close…” He feels her walls flutter around him and grunts.

“Come on, honey. Cum on my dick. Let me feel it.” That's all it takes for her to tumble over the edge into oblivion, her pussy pulsing around him as the pleasure runs through her body like lightning. The feeling of her throbbing around him is enough to throw him over the edge too and he holds her tight to his chest as his orgasm rips through him, his cock emptying deep inside her.

They lay there for a bit trying to catch their breath, both of them trembling. Eventually he loosens his grip on her and they relax. She lets him slip out of her and then rearranges to lay next to him in the crook of his arm. Her fingers run through his chest hair and he kisses her forehead.

“Hey, honey?” He turns a little to look down at her.

“Yeah?”

“What is this?” She lifts her arm when she feels his fingers on the skin of her ribcage. He lifts his head a little to try to see what he noticed when she was on top of him.

“It's a tattoo.”

“I didn't know women got tattoos.” She rolls her eyes a little.

“Janis Joplin has one.”

“What's it say?” He tries to read it, but he's at the wrong angle.

“‘To live would be an awfully big adventure.’ It's from-”

“Peter Pan.” She looks at him in awe.

“Yes, how did you-?”

“I read a lot, honey.” He runs his fingertips over the words softly. “You know, you've always reminded me of someone. Now I know who it is.”

“Who?”

“Tinkerbell.” She laughs and kisses his nose. He looks into her eyes and she stops laughing. The reality of the situation hits her like a ton of bricks and all of a sudden her eyes fill with tears. She squeezes them shut to try to keep the tears from falling and buries her face in his chest. “Hey, hey. What's wrong?”

He finds her chin and makes her look up at him, the tears sliding down her cheeks. She desperately searches for a way to express what she's feeling, but the words aren't there. Finally, she's able to choke out something.

“Nothing’s wrong. It's good. Isn't it? It can't be this good.” He softens and kisses her forehead, pulling her in close.

“Oh, Tink. It is good.” He looks down into her face, holding her cheek in his big hand. “It is good.”

Too good, he thinks as she nods and settles against him. Too good to last.

******

What will happen next?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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jhoneybees · 6 days ago

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Mmmmmmmmm🫦

daddy

#elvis presley #i love elvis #elvis fans #previous tags>>>#he’s so daddy

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jhoneybees · 6 days ago

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~Birthday Ribbons~

(70's!Elvis X Reader)

(TW: Mentions of sex, crude language, potential typos, Elvis being sweet, pretty much just a short story filled with slight fluff.)

You had just arrived back at Graceland after running some errands, even indulging yourself in a little present. It was your birthday today, and whilst you normally didn't like your birthday for personal reasons, today was the first day in years you were excited for.

You walked through the foyer with a soft smile on your face, humming a sweet little tune as you go about your business, even doing a little twirl when you made sure no one was around to see. You were so happy.

But not as happy alone as you are with Elvis.

He was the light of your life, your gorgeous Boyfriend. You honestly couldn't live without him.

The sounds of the soft patters of your socked feet echoed in your ears as you walked up the stairs, your stomach swirling with butterflies as you then walk down the carpeted hallway, making your way to his bedroom. Opening the doors, you paused right in your tracks, your eyes wide.

There Elvis was, his cheek pressed down against the floor, completely nude as he struggled to tie himself in a ribbon. Then, his Blue eyes met yours, and his face flushed Red. "Y/n! Baby- Wh-What're you doing back so early?" He asked in such an adorably flustered panic. "Elvis," You started with a rising smile to your lips, stepping inside. "I didn't come back early." You chuckled. His eyes darted about, worrying his plump lower lip between his perfect teeth. "I-I wanted to do somethin' special for your birthday." He said, sitting himself up with your help, his pudgy body on display for your viewing pleasure. "I wanted to be your present."

That sentence right there sent a burning heat straight in your core, pressing your thighs together. But seeing that adorable and bashful smile on his face just made you feel all sappy inside. "Aww, you're so sweet, El." You smiled, kneeling down next to him, reaching out to caress his cheek. "I love it. Thank you." "You're welcome, Angel." He grinned, gaining his confidence back. "Since it's your birthday, I wanted you to have me all to yourself. But as much as I love you, I can't let you ride me hard on the floor. My knees are achin', Baby..." Elvis groaned, shifting a little in discomfort. Undoing the ribbons around his wrists and thickened thighs, and even around his cock, you help him to stand, leading him to the large bed. "I hear you, Elvis. Besides..." Laying him down, you licked your lips as you undressed yourself, running your hands over his body.

"I like when you grab the sheets as I ride you."

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jhoneybees · 7 days ago

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What are 3 things about Elvis that make you happy?

Oh this is a great question! Elvis is constantly on my mind, and there are so many things I love about him that bring me joy. Here are three that come to mind:

1. His music. I honestly can’t remember the last day I didn’t listen to his beautiful singing. I love that his catalog is so massive, with so many different eras and genres. I can rotate from one thing to the next and never tire of it. There are constantly new things to discover. And he always performs with such beautiful emotion. I will never get enough of listening to him.

2. His uniqueness. One of the first things that drew me to Elvis is how different he was. Even though he was sensitive and part of him longed to be accepted, he always tried to stay true to himself. From his singing style to his dancing to his fashion, he was not afraid to risk being ostracized. As a bit of a weirdo myself, that sense of self-assuredness is an inspiration to me to keep on being myself.

3. His heart and humor. For someone who had experienced a lot of hard times in life and could have been bitter, it amazes me what a loving, generous heart he had. The affection he felt for other people and his desire to take care of them is so sweet. And that goofy sense of humor! What’s not to love?

Thank you for the question! 😘❤️

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jhoneybees · 8 days ago

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Good boy's making his bed🥹

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis #elvis fandom #i love him

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jhoneybees · 8 days ago

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The Mystery In Memphis

Chapter 2: The Stranger

Last episode: The Clock Tower

The neon glow of Memphis’s streetlights danced on the slick pavement as Elvis pulled his collar up against the chill of the early evening. His guitar case swung in one hand, and the leather soles of his boots clicked in rhythm with the jazz spilling from the open doors of a café. Red had called him with urgency earlier, saying something about a mysterious person wanting to meet him. It sounded crazy, but if Red thought it was important, then Elvis figured he might as well hear the stranger out.

“Alright, Presley,” he muttered to himself, pausing to glance at his reflection in a shop window. He ran a hand through his jet-black hair, tilting his head to inspect his pompadour. “Lookin’ good. Ain’t no mystery too tough for you, baby.”

The door to the café creaked open as he stepped inside. It was the kind of place where the regulars didn’t need menus and the staff knew everyone’s name. The smell of coffee and fried bacon hung in the air. Elvis spotted Red leaning against the counter, a thick mug of coffee in hand.

“You’re late,” Red said, his mouth curling into a grin. “Thought you might’ve chickened out.”

“Late? Hoss, I’m always on time. Time just has to catch up to me.” Elvis shot him a wink and a grin as he set his guitar case down by the counter. “So, where’s this mysterious somebody?”

Red tilted his head toward a shadowy booth in the back. “Right over there. Goes by the name Lucian. Weird vibe, though. You sure you wanna do this?”

“Do I wanna do this? Man, I live for weird vibes,” Elvis quipped, giving Red a playful shove before sauntering toward the booth.

Seated in the booth was someone who didn’t look like they belonged in 1950s Memphis—or maybe even on planet Earth. A sleek suit that caught the light in strange ways clung to the figure like a second skin. Short, dark hair framed sharp cheekbones, and when the stranger looked up, their gray eyes seemed to pierce right through Elvis.

“Well, ain’t you a picture,” Elvis said as he slid into the booth, his elbows resting on the table. “Name’s Elvis Presley. I hear you’ve been askin’ about me. Hope you don’t expect an autograph.”

The stranger’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Elvis. As charming as they say.” Their voice was low and smooth, but there was something about it—a slight lilting accent—that Elvis couldn’t quite place.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Elvis said, leaning back with an easy grin. “So, Lucian, is it? What’s your game? You a music producer, or are you here to tell me I’ve won a free car?”

Lucian’s smile widened just a fraction. “No games, Mr. Presley. I’m here to talk about your journal.”

Elvis blinked, his humor dropping for just a second. “My journal? Now, how in the Sam Hill do you know about that?”

Lucian leaned forward, their gray eyes locking onto his. “Let’s just say… I have a vested interest in ensuring it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Elvis studied them, his playful grin returning as he tried to deflect the tension. “You know, I meet a lot of folks, but you’ve got a real knack for bein’ mysterious. Lemme guess, you’re with the FBI? CIA? Or are you one of them fellas who tells fortunes at the fair?”

Lucian chuckled softly, the sound surprising Elvis. “I can see why they call you the King. But I’m not here for jokes. I’m here to help you understand what you’ve stumbled upon—and why it matters.”

The seriousness in their voice sent a chill down Elvis’s spine, but he didn’t let it show. “Alright, alright,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You’ve got my attention. Tell me about this journal.”

Lucian’s smile faded as they reached into their coat and pulled out a small object. It was a pocket watch, but not like any Elvis had seen before. Its surface shimmered faintly, and strange symbols pulsed across its face, almost alive.

“This,” Lucian said, setting the watch on the table between them, “is connected to the journal you found. Together, they can guide you to something incredible. But they can also lead to disaster if used by the wrong people.”

Elvis frowned, leaning closer to inspect the watch. “This some kinda magic trick? You gonna pull a rabbit outta your coat next?”

“It’s no trick,” Lucian said quietly. “And it’s not magic. It’s science—far beyond what you know in this timeline.”

Elvis froze, the word “timeline” ringing in his ears. “Hold up. What do you mean by ‘this timeline’? You tryin’ to tell me you’re from the future or somethin’?”

Lucian’s gaze didn’t waver. “Not exactly. But I’m not from here either.”

The way they said it, so matter-of-fact, made Elvis laugh nervously. “Okay, now I know you’ve been hittin’ the sauce. You expect me to believe you’re some kinda… what, alien?”

Lucian’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “Not an alien. But I am… displaced. From another time. Another version of this world.”

Elvis opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He thought about the journal—the strange symbols, the cryptic messages—and about the woman he’d seen in the alleyway, the way she’d disappeared in a flash of light.

“You’re serious,” he said finally, his voice quieter now.

“Deadly serious,” Lucian replied.

Elvis rubbed the back of his neck, trying to wrap his head around everything. “Alright, let’s say I believe you. What does any of this have to do with me?”

Lucian’s expression softened, and for the first time, Elvis saw something human in their eyes—something vulnerable. “The journal chose you, Elvis. You’re not just some musician chasing a dream. You have a part to play in something much bigger than yourself.”

Elvis laughed, the sound tinged with disbelief. “Bigger than me? Hoss, I’m just a guy who sings songs and shakes his hips. I ain’t no hero.”

Lucian leaned forward, their gaze intense. “Heroes aren’t chosen because they’re ready. They’re chosen because they’re needed. And right now, you’re needed.”

Elvis stared at them, his humor fading as the weight of their words sank in. He didn’t want to believe any of this—didn’t want to think about timelines or disasters or playing hero. But deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were right.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice steady. “What do we do next?”

Lucian’s smile returned, faint but genuine. “First, we find the next clue. The journal and this watch will guide us. But we’ll need to move quickly. There are others who want the journal—and they won’t hesitate to use force to get it.”

“Great,” Elvis muttered, shaking his head. “Guess I better lace up my blue suede shoes for runnin’, huh?”

Lucian chuckled, and for the first time, Elvis saw them as more than just some mysterious figure with a cryptic mission. There was something about their laugh—soft and genuine—that made him feel… curious.

“Don’t worry,” Lucian said, their voice lighter now. “You’ll get used to it.”

Elvis leaned back, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. But tell me one thing—if you’re from another timeline, does that mean you know how this all ends?”

Lucian’s smile faltered, and their gaze dropped to the watch. “No. I don’t. And that’s why we have to keep going. Together.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the hum of the café’s jukebox filling the space between them. Elvis watched Lucian, his mind racing with questions he didn’t know how to ask. He didn’t fully trust them—not yet. But there was something about them, something he couldn’t ignore.

And if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to ignore it.

Elvis ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in the booth. His eyes flicked to the pocket watch on the table. The symbols on its face shimmered faintly, almost hypnotic.

“So,” Elvis drawled, trying to lighten the mood, “we’re just gonna let this little gizmo tell us where to go? What if it sends us to, I dunno, the middle of a swamp or somethin’? I didn’t exactly bring my gator boots.”

Lucian chuckled softly. “It’s more precise than that. The watch reacts to the journal—it’ll guide us to the next piece of the puzzle. But only if we work together.”

Elvis raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Work together, huh? And what happens if I decide to walk outta here, huh? Take that journal and shove it under my mattress? Not sayin’ I will, but… you know, hypothetically.”

Lucian’s gaze met his, steady and unflinching. “Then you’ll be hunted. And not just by me.”

Elvis let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Man, you sure know how to make a fella feel special.”

Lucian’s lips twitched, almost a smile. “Trust me, Elvis. You’re more special than you realize.”

He leaned back again, his playful grin returning. “You keep talkin’ like that, and I might start blushin’. But alright, I’ll bite. Where’s this watch gonna send us?”

Lucian reached for the watch, their fingers brushing against its surface. The symbols began to pulse faster, the faint hum growing louder. Elvis sat up straighter, his curiosity piqued.

“It’s reacting,” Lucian said softly. “The journal—it’s trying to lead us to the next clue.”

Before Elvis could respond, the watch let out a sharp, metallic chime, and a beam of light shot from its face. The light formed a glowing map on the table, its lines shifting and swirling until they settled on a familiar street corner in downtown Memphis.

Elvis blinked, pointing at the map. “That’s Beale Street! Man, I was just there last week. They got the best ribs you’ll ever taste. You ever try ribs, Lucian? Or is that not somethin’ they got in your… timeline?”

Lucian gave him an amused look. “Focus, Elvis. The watch is guiding us to something important. We need to move quickly.”

“Alright, alright,” Elvis said, sliding out of the booth and grabbing his guitar case. “But I’m tellin’ you now—if we’re gonna be runnin’ all over Memphis, we’re stoppin’ for ribs at some point. It’s non-negotiable.”

Lucian followed him, the faintest smile playing on their lips. “We’ll see.”

The night air hit them as they stepped outside, the city alive with the sounds of blues music and distant laughter. Elvis tilted his head, listening to the rhythm of the city he loved.

“You know,” he said, glancing at Lucian, “you never answered my question earlier. What’s your deal? Why’s somebody from another timeline runnin’ around Memphis lookin’ for journals and watches? Don’t you folks have, like, hovercars or somethin’ to keep you busy?”

Lucian hesitated, their eyes flicking to the ground. “It’s… complicated.”

Elvis stopped walking, turning to face them. “Complicated, huh? Well, lucky for you, I’m a real good listener. Got all night, darlin’.”

Lucian looked up, meeting his gaze. For a moment, Elvis thought he saw something flicker in their expression—regret, maybe. Or sorrow.

“My world…” Lucian began, their voice quieter now. “It’s gone. Destroyed by the very fracture I’m trying to stop here.”

Elvis blinked, taken aback by the raw emotion in their voice. “Gone? You mean—”

“Everything,” Lucian said, cutting him off. “Everything I knew, everyone I loved—it’s all gone. Because I failed to stop the fracture in time.”

Elvis was silent for a moment, his usual humor slipping away. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Lucian shook their head, a faint smile tugging at their lips. “You didn’t know. But that’s why I’m here, Elvis. This is my chance to fix things. To make sure your world doesn’t suffer the same fate as mine.”

Elvis stared at them, a new respect blossoming in his chest. He cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, I gotta say, you’re a lot braver than me. If I was in your shoes, I’d probably be hidin’ under a bed somewhere.”

Lucian chuckled softly. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

They started walking again, the tension between them easing as they made their way toward Beale Street.

When they arrived, the street was alive with music and energy. Neon signs glowed in every color, and the sound of a harmonica drifted from a nearby bar. Elvis couldn’t help but grin, the familiar sights and sounds putting him at ease.

“Now this,” he said, gesturing to the lively scene around them, “this is what I’m talkin’ about. If you’re gonna save the world, might as well do it with some good music in the background.”

Lucian smirked. “Is everything a joke to you?”

“Not everything,” Elvis said, his grin softening. “But sometimes, laughin’ at the craziness of it all is the only thing that keeps you from losin’ your mind.”

Lucian studied him for a moment, their expression unreadable. “You’re not what I expected, Elvis Presley.”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin returning. “Oh yeah? And what’d you expect? Some dull ol’ fella with no sense of humor?”

Lucian’s lips twitched. “Something like that.”

“Well, lucky for you, you got me instead,” Elvis said, winking. “Now, let’s find this clue before somebody beats us to it.”

The watch led them to an old music shop tucked between two larger buildings. Its sign was faded, and the windows were dark. Elvis pushed open the door, the bell above it jingling softly.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of aged wood and dust. Instruments lined the walls, their strings glinting faintly in the dim light.

“Creepy,” Elvis muttered, his voice echoing slightly. “You sure this is the place?”

Lucian nodded, holding up the watch. Its glow intensified, casting strange shadows on the walls.

“Alright,” Elvis said, his voice quieter now. “Let’s see what we’re dealin’ with.”

As they moved deeper into the shop, the glow of the watch led them to a display case in the back. Inside, nestled among old sheet music and guitar picks, was a small metal key.

“That’s it,” Lucian said, their voice barely a whisper.

Elvis frowned. “A key? That’s what all this fuss is about?”

“It’s not just a key,” Lucian said, reaching for the case. “It’s a—”

Before they could finish, the sound of footsteps echoed through the shop. Elvis spun around, his heart racing.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” he said, his voice low.

Lucian grabbed the key and slipped it into their pocket, their expression tense. “We need to go. Now.”

They turned to run, but the shop door slammed shut, and a group of shadowy figures stepped into view.

“Well, ain’t this just peachy,” Elvis muttered, raising his fists. “Guess we’re gonna have to do this the hard way.

Lucian glanced at him, a hint of amusement in their eyes. “Think you can handle it?

Elvis grinned. “Darlin’, I was born ready.”

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jhoneybees · 8 days ago

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mm mm MM🤭

Live A Little, Love A Little, 1968

#elvis fans

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jhoneybees · 9 days ago

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Little Darling

Chapter 5 - The man I used to be

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate class.

Word Count: 5.6K

TWs: Angst, crying, angry!Elvis, self-esteem issues all-round, erectile dysfunction, body worship, praise kink, some smutty bits.

A/N: This is a difficult chapter for a number of reasons - there's a lot going on and a lot of complex emotions. Thanks to everyone who has commented and re-blogged so far, comments are life so the more I get the happier I am! And I know if you're enjoying it.

Elvis spends the next day wondering what he’s doing with Tegan. He sits at the piano, mid-afternoon, running through some scales and a few snatches of songs. He looks around the empty living room. It’s harder to get a house full of people nowadays. The guys are older and they spend more time with their families than they used to. He can get plenty of people round for an event - the barbeque the other weekend proved that - but there’s not the constant presence of guys and fans and family like back in the seventies or even the eighties. The divorce had coincided with a slow drift of people out of his life and into their own. Lisa doesn’t even stay in Graceland when she’s back in Memphis, even though he’d tried asking her to. She’s working on her new relationship, and she wants to spend time with her boyfriend when she’s in Memphis, not with her dad.

For the first time in a long time, Elvis realises he’s lonely. He’s been keeping himself busy for years now with the karate schools, but he can’t stay in Memphis for more than a month at a time. It’s hard to persuade someone to come round for dinner every night; sometimes he has to eat alone. He’s kept moving so he barely notices, but sitting in the living room at Graceland, silent save for his absent-minded piano tinkling, he realises how much he craves company. Last night had gone by so quickly, Tegan was so easy to talk to and her skin was so soft. He’s missed more than just conversation and company. He’s missed sex too. He had liked playing with her and finding out what turns her on, and he had liked watching her lose herself to pleasure too.

He puts the lid down on the piano and rests his elbows on it, head in his hands. He remembers calling her a needy thing because she wanted to see him before Tuesday. He groans. He wants to see her right now, and he wants to keep her here with him forever. It hurts, being here alone, being without her, wanting her so badly. The loneliness that he’d been holding at bay for so long comes crashing through his defences, hitting him like a tidal wave. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes and run down his nose, splashing on the piano lid. Fuck.

“Daddy?”

He’d been so wrapped up in his own sadness he hadn’t noticed the sound of the door closing and when he looks up he sees Lisa standing there, with Riley and Ben. He quickly wipes his eyes and stands up.

“Hey! How are my two favourite grandkids, hm?”

Riley rolls her eyes, letting him hug her. “We’re your only grandkids, Elvis.”

He looks up at Lisa. “She got this from you, y’know. Callin’ me Elvis.”

Lisa laughs and tells both kids to go and raid the kitchen for lunch.

Riley runs off towards the kitchen immediately but Ben pauses, unsure. He tugs Elvis’ sleeve. Elvis bends down and picks him up easily, cuddling the little boy to him and kissing the top of his head.

“What’s up, punk?”

Lisa snorts at her dad calling her son “punk”.

“Have you been crying?” Ben puts a little hand against Elvis’ face and stares into his eyes with grave concern.

“Little bit.”

“Why?”

Elvis lets out a huff of air. Why had he been crying? “Jus’ felt a little sad, s’all.” He brushes Ben’s hair back off his forehead. “Much happier now you’re here.” He squeezes the little boy tightly and then looks at him again to see how that statement fell.

Ben’s big eyes still look worried. Lisa thinks he’s way too worried, always, for a five year old.

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure I’m better now you and Riley are here? Of course I’m sure. Why dontcha go help ya sister find some lunch, hm? Mary’ll help ya. Ya must be hungry, growin’ little fella like you?”

Ben nods solemnly and allows himself to be put down, walking slowly and purposefully to the kitchen. Elvis frowns a little. “Are ya sure he’s five and not fifty five, Yis?”

She sighs and puts an arm around her dad, laying her head on his shoulder. “Well he’s very perceptive for a five year old, I’ll give him that. You ok?”

“Think anyone coulda seen me cryin’ back there. Even a little kid.”

His arm goes around her too, pulling her close.

“You okay?” She asks again.

Elvis makes a sort of grumbling noise and moves to sit on the sofa. Lisa sits next to him and waits patiently for a response. Or, as patiently as she can. When another two minutes of strange silence have passed she huffs and pokes him in the side.

“You gonna tell me?”

“Not gonna get away without, am I?” He mutters. “Lonely here, Yis. On my own a lot.”

“What about Tegan?”

“Saw her last night.” His face breaks into a smile. “She came for dinner.”

Lisa sits up and grins. “And?”

The smile continues to play on his lips as he thinks about her on his lap all night, talking to him about her tattoos. “It was good.”

“Good? Is that it?!”

“I like her, Yis. I really like her. But she’s so much younger, I jus’... I dunno.”

Lisa shakes her head. “Don’t see what difference that makes. She’s not Stella, or mom. She’s her own person. You have to give it a try on its own terms.”

“‘M tryin’.”

“Why don’t you invite her round for lunch now?”

He shakes his head. “‘M try’na take it slow.”

Lisa falls back against the sofa cushions with a bump, sighing loudly. “Why?”

Elvis pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Because I don’t wanna fuck it up, okay?” He stands up and starts to move towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna get somethin’ to eat if the locusts haven’t got ta everythin’ already.”

Lisa watches him go, and then realises she’s hungry too and gets up herself. She’s surprised at her dad taking anything slowly, but perhaps he knows what he’s doing. She supposes she’ll have to wait and see.

***

“Ya need to really protect yourself with yer arms. No. C’mere.” Elvis stands in front of Tegan, a forearm in each hand, and manoeuvres them around as she steps back. “Y’see?”

She tries hard to keep a straight face but she can’t help giggling. “Yeah… kinda.”

Elvis puts on a mock-serious face. “No laughin’ at karate. ‘Sa serious sport.”

Still trying not to laugh, she attempts the block again, but when he grabs one of her arms and moves it where it’s supposed to go she fails and starts giggling.

“C’mon. Again. On yer own.”

Letting out a breath, she tries to compose herself. “O-okay. So, like… this?”

He shrugs a little and gives his head a little shake. “Better than it was before. Practise at home. Now, step forward and snap punch. No… mid-chest. C’mon. Really try an’ punch me. That’s better.”

He makes her go through the two step move a few more times and then tells her and the rest of the group that they can go and get another drink. She gulps down some water and then passes the bottle to Maria.

“You two are getting on well,” Maria observes with a wry smile.

Tegan can’t help smiling back. “Yeah. I went to Graceland for dinner at the weekend.”

“You did?” Maria’s eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “You didn’t mention it!”

“Well, I know you’re not keen.”

“Oh T, it’s not that. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Tegan nods slowly. “I know.” She’s about to continue when Elvis calls them back to class. “I’ll tell you later.”

When the class finishes the rest of the students file out and Elvis realises only Tegan and Maria are left. Maria realises too, telling her friend she’ll see her in the car and giving Elvis a quick wave. Tegan picks up her bag as he makes his way towards her, a broad smile on his face.

“Ya need ta practice more at home,” he tells her, forefinger under her chin, tipping her face towards his so he can press a soft kiss to her lips.

“Maybe I need some private tuition?”

He takes his sunglasses off and holds her face firmly in his hand, kissing her deeply. Her hands make their way around his neck as she presses her body against his.

“Ya can come home with me right now an’ I’ll teach ya some things…” he mumbles against her lips, intoxicated by the feel of her, the way she smells.

“Yes please.”

He pulls back, resting his forehead against hers, panting a little. “I shouldna said that.”

She pouts a little. “Why?”

“I’m tryna take this slow.”

She groans. “Well don’t kiss me like that then!”

“Sorry, honey. Got carried away. Yer always makin’ me get carried away…” he strokes her cheek gently with his finger.

“Maybe that means something? Maybe you should just… get carried away.”

He giggles, his apple cheeks prominent as he looks down at her. “Temptin’. But ya should go home, sure ya have work in the mornin’…”

“Well, yeah. You still coming for dinner at the weekend?”

He nods. “Sure am.”

“Okay, see you then.”

***

Elvis enjoys dinner at Tegan’s apartment. She cooks him a roast and he teases her about nearly all of the components, but he gobbles down the whole plate and asks for seconds. She even manages to persuade him to try a gin and tonic, although he doesn’t ask for a second one of those. They talk and joke around and at some point the teasing turns to touching and he’s making her cum on her sofa this time. She asks again, but he’s still not interested in getting anything in return. Their relationship continues like this for weeks - they see one another on Saturday nights and at karate, they get closer, but not too close. He gives her an orgasm every time he sees her, but he won’t even take his shirt off, never mind let her touch his dick. He brings her flowers and trinkets, but he’s afraid to take her out in public in case they’re hounded by the press. She loves being with him, but she feels like he keeps her at arm’s length. She’s fully in this, but it’s like he’s just standing in the shallow end, watching her.

She doesn’t feel like she can tell Maria, so when her friend asks she just says everything’s going well, they’re taking it slowly, getting to know each other. But she’s not sure how much longer she can keep waiting for him to feel more comfortable with her, or want to dive right in the deep end and lose control. She can’t understand what’s holding him back, and is trying to work out how to broach the subject with him at Graceland that evening, when the phone rings unexpectedly and it's Elvis inviting her to the zoo. First of all she thinks he’s joking, and then when she realises he’s not she agrees enthusiastically. She does love animals, and they will actually be seen together in person. Perhaps she’s been patient enough, and she doesn’t need to talk to him at all. Things have just worked out on their own. He tells her he’ll pick her up in half an hour and she hurries to get ready.

***

“Honey, ya need ta know somethin’,” Elvis tells her as she gets into the car and he kisses her hello.

“Oh yeah?”

“Ya might be in the papers tomorrow. If someone spots us an’ takes a photo…”

She shrugs. How bad could it be? “Okay, cool.”

He stares at her intensely for a moment. “They could say all kindsa things about ya. Jus’ want ya ta be prepared.”

She nods. “Okay.”

Elvis doesn’t think she’s taking him seriously enough but he’s not sure what else he can say.

She sees him frowning a little and kisses his cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Take me to the zoo!”

***

Tegan enjoys the zoo until the paparazzi arrive. She’d thought that because there was hardly anyone outside Graceland anymore and people in the karate classes treated him mostly as if his being there was completely normal, that the press wasn’t bothered about Elvis Presley anymore. Boy was she wrong. Someone had obviously tipped them off, and from the penguin enclosure onwards they were harassed by men with cameras and reporters shouting questions. Wanting to know who she was, how they met, how long they’d been together, did they plan to get married? Had she met his daughter, was she the same age as his daughter, what were they doing at the zoo? And another million intrusive questions that Elvis starts off answering politely and eventually instructs Sonny to answer “no comment” to, on his behalf.

“Goddamnit,” he hisses, as they finally get back into the car. He pulls the curtains so that no-one can see in through the windows and Sonny drives them this time. “I knew it’d be bad. Didn’t think it’d be that bad.”

Tegan feels a little overwhelmed herself but Elvis is her main concern. He’s gripping one of her hands tightly and sweat is running down his face as he mumbles about the paparazzi and the damn reporters.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his thigh.

He huffs air out of his nose like a furious bull. “None of their goddamn business. Any of it.”

“Shhhh. It’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t get upset.”

He abruptly lets go of her hand and springs back from her. “Don’t get upset!” He exclaims, eyes wide behind his sunglasses. “Don’t get upset! Goddamn.”

Tegan isn’t going to be put off that easily. “I just mean, don’t let them get to you like this. I don’t like to see you so upset.”

She rubs his arm now, in the same gentle but firm way.

“Well it doesn’t matter what ya like, does it?” He spits. “I’m fucking upset.”

It’s Tegan’s turn to spring back now, eyes flaming. “Don’t fucking take it out on me!”

Sonny looks at the curtain in the rearview mirror, not that it reveals anything. He’d warned Elvis about going to the zoo in the middle of the day, but to be fair not even he had thought it would be this bad. Both of them were unused to the ferocity of the paparazzi, even in Memphis. He’s surprised that Tegan bit back though. He had thought of her as a little timid for some reason.

They stare at one another for a while, both furious but neither able to decide the next move. Elvis can’t remember the last time a woman yelled at him and he’s shocked into silence, and Tegan is furious about the way he spoke to her, and isn’t about to back down. She didn’t like his tone just then and it was making her want to tell Sonny to pull the car over so she could get out.

Eventually Elvis huffs loudly and turns away from her, staring straight ahead at the curtain, realises that it’s still closed and opens it with a grunt. Daylight pours into the back of the car and Tegan squints and looks around for her sunglasses.

“Sorry,” Elvis mutters sheepishly, when he thinks she’s suitably occupied digging about in her handbag.

She pauses, then looks over at him. “It’s okay.”

He takes a few steadying breaths and then looks at her properly. “Ya were right, I was takin’ it out on ya. Ya were only tryna calm me down.”

Sliding her sunglasses on, she looks over at him. “I know. You were being an arse.”

Sonny catches Elvis’ eye in the mirror and all three of them burst out laughing. Elvis doesn’t think anyone has ever called him an arse before, but he has to admire her for doing it.

“Yer lucky I’m lettin’ ya get away with that,” he replies, winking behind his glasses.

They drive back to Graceland, and Sonny and his wife join them for dinner. Tegan has met Sonny’s wife a couple of times and is getting to like her, and Judy is fond of the younger woman too. Her and Sonny had both remarked to each other, and Elvis himself, how much happier he seems lately, and Judy wants to make sure he stays that way almost as much as her husband does. They all watch a little TV together and play some cards, and Tegan is happy to spend some time with people who’ll actually drink with her. Although, as she watches Sonny finish off his fourth bourbon rocks, she wonders who is going to drive her home.

Judy yawns delicately and then gives Sonny a sharp elbow in the side. He looks around a little slowly, his reactions dulled by all the bourbon.

“Huh? Oh…” he looks over at Elvis and Tegan, who are cuddled up on the sofa at this point. “I uh… think we should be getting home.”

“Oh.” Elvis suddenly clocks that Sonny is drunk and he doesn’t know how he’s going to get Tegan home. “Yeah, sure. Thanks fer comin’.”

They get up and say their goodbyes, and once they’ve left Elvis turns to Tegan. “I spose I better drive ya, honey.”

She puts her hands on his shoulders and then slides them down over his chest. “Or… I could stay over?”

He can feel his face getting red thinking about her seeing him naked. It had been a very long time since a woman had seen him naked.

“I…um…”

She starts to slowly unbutton his shirt, moving to press soft kisses to the skin she uncovers there. His chest hair is white like the hair on his head, and she’s seen it before underneath his gi. But she hasn’t ever got to touch it, and she can’t help running her fingers through it as she continues to unbutton his shirt. He feels like he’s completely frozen on the spot, just watching her as she carries on with her little touches and kisses until his shirt is hanging open.

“Please?” She puts her head to one side and tries to look cute.

His breathing is uneven as he stares down at her, still unable to formulate a response. She gently pushes his shirt off his shoulders and encourages his arms out of the sleeves. He stands in front of her, topless, watching as she presses yet more kisses up his arms and across his chest. His eyes flick uneasily down to his belly, which isn’t exactly small these days, but that gets kisses too, and gentle touches, and he can feel himself melting.

“C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”

“Okay,” he finally replies, trying to get some of the upper hand back by sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her up the stairs.

She giggles, her arms around his neck, pleased at being literally swept off her feet. He manages to open the door to his bedroom without putting her down, and she stares around it in wonder, squinting into the darkness.

“I’ll put a lamp on,” he mumbles, putting her down carefully and moving over to the side of the bed, flicking a switch.

It doesn’t get much lighter in the room, but she can see the size of the bed which is almost unreal. She shivers a little. It’s not exactly warm; it seems like he has the AC on full blast. He looks over at her nervously, but she’s still occupied looking around, so he moves over to one of the sets of drawers and searches for some pyjamas. He’d be more comfortable in them and probably so would she. It takes him a few minutes to locate a couple of sets and when he turns back his mouth actually drops open looking at her. She’s standing there, completely naked, looking over at him.

“H-honey… I… yer…” he can’t make the words come out of his mouth. He’s seen everything before but not all at once, and it’s kind of overwhelming. “Yer naked,” he finally manages.

She giggles. “Yeah I know. This is how I sleep. And walk around the apartment sometimes too.”

His eyes somehow get even wider. “Ya walk around like that? I don’t think ya should…”

She shrugs and then rubs her arms with her hands, melodramatically. “I’m getting cold. Why don’t you come over here and warm me up?”

“Well if ya were wearin’ clothes…” he starts, but he’s walking towards her anyway, and she cuts him off with a kiss, pressing her naked body up against his. He moans into her mouth. Her skin feels so good against his, he can even feel those little metal bars in her nipples, a tiny touch of cold. His hand spreads across her back, pulling her in even closer, but somehow he doesn’t stop her wandering hands. One skates down his back but the other sneaks between them and before he can do anything, she’s squeezing his still soft dick. She barely reacts when she doesn’t find what she was expecting, but he almost leaps backwards like he’s been burnt.

“Ah…uh… I’m s-sorry baby… it’s not you… I-I-I…”

“Hey. It’s okay,” she tries to reply but he darts off into the ensuite, pyjamas in hand.

Tegan sits on the bed for a moment, looking at the closed door and wondering if he plans on hiding out in the bathroom all night. She supposes he won’t, but honestly she can’t tell. The coldness of the room persuades her under the covers, and she wonders what he’s going to say when he eventually comes back into the room again. She was only a little surprised to find him so soft when she touched him. It made sense really, when she thought back over the past few weeks that they’d been together. He never wanted her to return the favour when he gave her an orgasm, he was so awkward about the relationship in the first place, and he never wanted to let her take his clothes off. The look on his face after she’d touched him, the way he’d jumped away from her… it hurts her heart. She just wants to give him pleasure like he’s been giving her for all these weeks, but he seems so damaged about the whole thing. She frowns. It’s not as if he’s the first guy she’s been with who hasn’t been able to get it up sometimes.

Elvis gets changed shakily, then stands in his pyjamas, gripping the sink with both hands and staring into the mirror. Stupid old man, he thinks. She’ll never be interested now she knows your dick doesn’t work. For a while he seriously considers sleeping on the bathroom floor, but then he realises he can’t get around going back into the bedroom and facing Tegan. He opens the door slowly, walking into the room almost sheepishly.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles. This is turning into a day of apologies.

She pulls the covers back, exposing her naked body to him. He can’t help but look at it hungrily, despite what had just happened. “C’mere.” She pats the mattress next to her.

“I hope you’re sorry about running off, not anything else?” She asks as he gets in cautiously.

“Sure I disappointed ya.”

Lying on his back, unable to look at her.

“I’m not disappointed,” she replies, curling her body around his. “I’ve been looking forward to waking up with you.”

“Thought ya might’ve wanted somethin’ else,” he mutters.

Her hand rubs his chest, then moves to his belly. She feels him tense and starts to kiss his neck as her hand keeps touching him.

“I want to make you feel good, ‘raur. I’m not in a rush to do anything else.”

He sighs. “Don’t think that’s really possible.”

“Sure you’re not just out of practice?”

Elvis groans and closes his eyes, willing the conversation away. This is not something he wants to be talking about with anyone, let alone a girl twenty years his junior.

“Jus’ leave it.”

Tegan doesn’t really want to just leave it, she wants to understand it and find a way to fix it. But Elvis clearly isn’t in the headspace for that kind of conversation right now, so she decides to try a different tack.

“God, you smell so good.” Burying her face in his chest, she breathes him in.

He can’t help his lips curling into a half-smile. “Really, Queenie?”

She flicks the top button of his pyjamas open and presses kisses to the exposed skin there, her hand running over his nipple through the shirt.

“You haven’t called me that in a while. And yes, really.”

He hums with pleasure, his hand running through her hair as she keeps kissing and praising him.

“You’re so strong, it’s so sexy.”

“Huh?” He’s blushing a little but he doesn’t want her to stop.

“Carrying me up the stairs.” She looks up at him as she deftly undoes another button. “Very sexy.”

He feels her hand inside his shirt now, rubbing and touching. She pinches a nipple between her thumb and forefinger and gets a low moan in response.

“Q-Queenie…”

“I can’t believe how gorgeous you are.”

She quickly undoes all of the rest of the buttons, and for the second time that evening his shirt is hanging open and her hands and mouth are all over his torso. He lets out a soft sigh and when her hand moves down under the waistband of his pyjama bottoms he doesn’t stop it. She slowly slides his foreskin back and forth, squeezing a little and feeling him start to respond. Her mouth and other hand continue their ministrations on his belly and chest, hoping to distract him from worrying about what his dick might be doing. She feels him getting harder and pushes his pants down so she can get at him more easily, sliding her mouth over the head and giving him little kitten licks. He moans, looking down at her for a moment and then looking away, disgusted by his own body again. His erection starts to fade and he screws his eyes shut and huffs in frustration. She tries to stimulate him for a little longer, but it’s clear it’s not coming back, so she stops, pulling his pyjama bottoms up carefully and leaning her head back on his chest.

He can’t speak. He doesn’t know whether not being able to get it up at all, or having half an erection that went away when he thought about it too much was worse. Both things were horribly embarrassing, and he can only imagine she’ll leave at the first opportunity, and not want to see him again.

“We should sleep,” he says, turning over and dislodging her.

He switches the light off and she stares, confused, into the dark from her position on her back.

“We can try again in the morning,” she suggests, quietly.

“Hmmm.”

She still wants to push it, but she knows she shouldn’t. This is too delicate. She wishes she could tell him that she doesn’t care, even if he never gets another erection she’d still want him more than she’s ever wanted anyone, but that seems too much. The intensity of her feelings for him seems like too much, considering how long they’ve known one another. She hasn’t told anyone how she feels; she’s convinced Maria would try and get her committed if she knew. She rolls onto her other side and tries to get to sleep. They can try again in the morning.

***

Neither of them sleep that well. Even though the bed is huge, they’ve both got used to sleeping on their own and someone else being there is disturbing. Elvis sleeps particularly badly, unable to stop himself wondering what Tegan must think and whether she’ll ever want to see him again. He looks at her as she lies there, peacefully, and wonders what on earth she’s doing in his bed. She could do a lot better.

“Oh, hi there, gorgeous,” she murmurs as she opens her eyes and sees him leaning over, looking at her.

He carefully moves her hair out of her eyes. “Mornin’ beautiful.”

Her face breaks into a smile. “Mmmmm. Come here.” Pulling his face towards hers, kissing him deeply.

He shifts, rolling on top of her and relishing the feeling of her hands underneath his unbuttoned shirt, running up and down his back. She lets one trail a little lower, grabbing a handful of his ass and pushing her hips up into his. He can feel himself getting harder, his dick is always a little more cooperative in the morning and something about her body and his drowsy state is turning him on. The thoughts that had plagued him during the night drift away and his head feels pleasantly empty. He finds himself starting to kiss and nip at her neck as she pushes his pyjama bottoms down, feeling him now too. She moves her legs to wrap them around his waist, and as his dick rubs against her pussy she feels delicious pleasure building between her legs. Drowsy too and not caring how she gets there, she moans softly at the feeling. He closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying rolling his hips against her, feeling like a teenager again. But he wants more. Moving back a little, he lines himself up with her entrance, teasing her with the tip before starting to push inside.

But it’s not just Elvis who hasn’t done this in a long time, and Tegan almost yelps at the intrusion. She’s tight at the best of times, and with no warm up and no lube it’s almost impossible.

“Oh!” She cries out, shifting back from him instinctively.

The moment it happens, his erection fades.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“Elvis, I’m sorry…” she begins, but he just covers himself up again and rolls off her and then out of the bed.

“Ya want breakfast? Mary’ll make ya eggs. Or… whatever ya want. Come down when yer ready.”

She stares as he takes a robe off the door and wraps it around himself and then just walks out of the room. She feels humiliated and confused. Okay, yeah, he’d gone soft. Embarrassing. But she’d been too small for him, or too tight, or not turned on enough… she gets up slowly, putting on her clothes from the day before. She wouldn’t have minded if he’d stayed in bed and held her for a while. In fact, she’d have liked it. She wishes that’s what he’d done, rather than leaving her like this. Checking her hair in the bathroom mirror, she sighs at her reflection. Maybe if she was more attractive this would all have been easier.

Walking slowly down the stairs, she looks around again. So opulent. But so quiet. So lonely. When she gets to the kitchen she finds Elvis staring at the Sunday papers.

Has-been Presley dating woman half his age.

The headline is big, and as she gets nearer she can see a lot of unflattering photos of both of them. Then she sees some of the text of the article.

Washed up King of Rock n Roll, Elvis Presley, was seen today at Memphis Zoo with a woman young enough to be his daughter. A far cry from the attractive starlets he used to be seen with, the unknown female is hardly a looker.

“Oh wow,” Tegan says, quietly. It’s one thing to know you’re not Helen of Troy, and it’s another thing to see it written there in black and white.

Elvis had been staring at the paper for a while now, and every so often some of the words had gone in. He knew there would be a nasty story about them, but he’s unused to the reality of it after so long. And he didn’t expect them to be quite this cruel about Tegan. Hearing her voice he’s suddenly spurred into action, tearing out the pages and screwing them up, hurling them across the room.

“Fucking assholes,” he shouts.

She puts a hand on his arm. “Elvis, it’s okay.” She doesn’t even really believe herself at this point, after everything that’s already happened this morning, but she feels she has to say something.

“The things they wrote about ya… it’s my fault.” He turns to her and shakes his head sorrowfully. “Ya better go.”

“What?”

“Ya better go. I’m no good for ya. Jus’ go.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“I do.”

Tegan tries begging and pleading with him, tries rationalising the situation, tries to ask why and persuade him to talk. But none of it works. He just keeps repeating that she ought to go and she’d be better off without him. It's like he's shut down completely. Despite his previous pronouncement that cabs don’t come to Graceland, he calls her one and sends her off in it. He won’t even kiss her goodbye. She sits there on the backseat trying to figure out exactly what the fuck had just happened, how she’d gone from him rutting against her in the bed one minute to throwing her out the next. And then she gets home and just cries. And cries. And wonders how the fuck she’s going to get her life back.

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss

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jhoneybees · 10 days ago

Text

Random question.

What Elvis song should be our national anthem?

😂😂😂

I vote on 'if I can dream'

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis #i love him #elvis fandom

29 notes · View notes

jhoneybees · 11 days ago

Text

Little Darling

Chapter 4 - The mirror is a trap that fails

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate class.

Word Count: 5.3K

TWs: Angst, praise kink, possessive kink, little bit of sub/dom talk, pussy inspection, oral, teasing. Things are heating up!

Tegan is barely awake and dressed when there’s a knock at her door. She’s not expecting anyone, but sometimes the mailman asks her to take things for one of the other apartments. She’s shocked when she opens the door and finds Elvis standing there, in a shirt and pants and gold sunglasses.

“Um… hi.”

She feels horribly underdressed and underprepared for this, standing in her doorway in jeans and an oversized Led Zeppelin t-shirt, her hair tied up in a messy bun.

“Hi honey. Can I come in?”

She nods, moving from the doorway and apologising about the mess. He smiles.

“Don’t worry honey, it’s fine.”

“You want something to drink?”

“Ahh, no… that’s okay. Jus’ um… c’mere. We need ta talk.”

He sits down on the couch and pats the seat beside him. Tegan doesn’t think that the words ‘we need to talk’ have ever led to anything good, and immediately wants to run away. But she can’t really just leave her own apartment, so she sits down. Her heart hammers in her chest. He looks so beautiful, and he’s so close. The fact that she can see every pore on his face makes her think he can probably see all her dry skin, since she’s pretty sure she didn’t moisturise this morning. She runs her hand over her forehead worriedly and fiddles with her hair, thinking that almost certainly needs a wash by now as well. She hasn’t even had a coffee yet and she feels half-asleep and a little hungover. He takes his sunglasses off and looks at her sadly, for a moment.

“Look honey… I’ve been leadin’ ya on. I shouldn’t have done it an’ I feel bad. I came here ta tell ya I think we should jus’ be friends.”

“Oh,” is about all she can manage in reply.

“I um… yer a real pretty girl, y’know that, and I like ya and everything, I jus’ don’t think… we jus’ wouldn’t work out, is all.”

Tegan sighs and looks down. “It’s fine. I don’t know why I thought you’d be interested in me anyway.”

Elvis makes a sort of strangled noise in his throat, then tries to cough to clear it. He hates this. When he was younger he never broke it off with a girl, it was always the girl breaking up with him. He loved too easily and he found it almost impossible to break that bond too, so he’d just leave it to drag on and on until eventually whoever it was got fed up with him.

“Ah…I…d-don’t say that, honey. Y-you’re real pretty, beautiful, and you’re funny and you… you’d be a real catch for any guy.”

Tegan looks up and looks him right in the eye. “But not you?”

He reaches over and strokes her cheek. “I’m jus’... I’m messed up, honey. I-I-I don’t think I could be with a-anyone.”

She leans into his touch like a cat, so he keeps stroking her cheek with his thumb. He’s not sure he should be touching her at all but he can’t help it.

“What messed you up?” She asks.

His eyes flick around nervously, as if he’s trying to look for some way to escape. “Stella. My ex. She… uh… it was a mess. An’ everyone knew about it.”

Tegan turns her head to kiss the hand that’s still caressing her face. “I’m not Stella,” she whispers.

They stare at one another, both breathing heavily, and then she presses another kiss to his palm. Cradling his arm in both of her hands, she kisses his wrist, then up his forearm under his shirt until she reaches the inside of his elbow.

“Can’t we try?”

He looks deeply into her eyes, half wanting to run and half wanting to kiss her.

“Please?”

The half that wants to kiss her wins, and he pulls her to him, crashing their lips together. She kisses him deeply, one hand on the back of his neck as she uses the other to try to pull him on top of her. He moves awkwardly to kneel on either side of her hips, trying to avoid sitting on her lap. She tugs at his shirt a little to try and get him closer.

He grumbles against her lips. “I’m gonna crush ya honey.”

“Please,” she mumbles, hands running up and down his back now.

He relents and puts a little more of his weight on her, letting his torso press against hers. She moans into his mouth, feeling wonderfully trapped beneath him now, like she couldn’t escape if she wanted to. He trails kisses from her mouth, along her jaw and down to just beneath her ear.

“Ya like this? Bein’ underneath me?” He asks.

“Mmmm.”

Elvis stops holding himself up and sits in her lap, enjoying her reaction as her hands caress him and rake through his hair. Lisa wasn’t entirely right when she’d said he hadn’t been with any women since his divorce, but any women he hooked up with always got on his lap and looked worried any time it seemed like he might try and get on top of them. They made him feel big, even though he knew he wasn’t in comparison to a lot of men these days. He’s so occupied enjoying the feeling of being on top of a girl who doesn’t just put up with it but actively likes it, that he’s completely forgotten that the point of his visit was to tell her that they should just be friends.

Tegan moves her head to the side, trying to capture his mouth in another kiss, but he sees it coming and pulls back instead, putting a hand on either side of her face and looking at her.

She frowns a little and tries to move again, almost pouting.

“Ya like kissin’ me, Tegan bach?”

She nods, stunned by the fact that he’s remembered the Welsh she taught him.

“Tell me ya like it.”

“I like it,” she replies, hoarsely, her heart beating out of her chest.

“Good girl.” He watches for her reaction to the praise and sees it immediately as she blushes a little and looks away from him. He smiles and rewards her with another kiss and she responds with urgency, her fingers gripping his shirt. She can’t help but feel like whilst they’re kissing she’s got him completely, and any time he pulls away he might leave again.

They make out on the couch until their lips are sore, reminding Elvis of the way he used to kiss girls when he was a teenager. Tegan rubs her tender lips a little with one hand, then they both giggle, foreheads resting together.

“Okay, so you were saying, you just want to be friends,” she teases.

Elvis closes his eyes and clicks his tongue. “Okay, ya got me. I did a real bad job of breakin’ this off with ya.”

“Yeah, pretty terrible, if that was your aim.”

He hums and moves his head so he can play with her hair.

“Oh God, don’t do that. My hair is disgusting. Next time you want to break things off with me can you let me know in advance so I can at least wash?”

He chuckles. “Yer still lookin’ good, honey. But if y’wanna take yer clothes off an’ get in the shower don’t let me stand in yer way.”

She rolls her eyes. “If you think I’m gonna give it away like that you’ve got another thing coming.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Whaddya mean?”

“You want any more than kisses then you’re going to have to start treating me a bit better.” Tegan has no idea where this is coming from but the look on Elvis’ face makes her think he’s kind of enjoying it.

“Oh. And whaddya want, exactly?”

She giggles. “I dunno. How do you usually woo ladies?”

“Like this - woo! woo!” He exclaims, and they both collapse into fits of giggles.

“Woo woo? Like a train?”

His shoulders are shaking as he leans his forehead back against hers again. “Sure. Like a train.”

Pressing his nose against hers, he tries to be serious.

“I can’t remember the last time I wooed a lady, honey. But for you, I’ll try.”

***

Elvis does try. Tegan sends him back to Graceland so she can get some caffeine and food inside her, and try to recover from her hangover and the shock of him appearing at her door. She’s scared that she’s potentially sending him right back out of her life again, but she has to start somewhere with trusting him. He calls later that day and tells her he’ll send a car to pick her up at 7, and to wear something pretty. He won’t be drawn any further on what something pretty means, so she just has to hope for the best. She calls Maria for a quick chat about it all but the phone rings out. She’s probably out for the day with her family. Tegan wonders if that’s for the best right now.

She eventually goes for a red floral dress with buttons down the front, and a thin, gauzy blouse that she wears open. It’s still pretty warm outside but it seems odd to turn up for dinner without sleeves. Whilst she was looking through her jewellery earlier she’d seen a necklace she felt like she ought to show Elvis, so she slips it into her handbag. She buckles up her sandals and waits on the couch for the beep of the car horn.

Elvis wasn’t lying when he said he’d send a car, and it wasn’t just any old car, it was a Cadillac limousine. Tegan can’t get over how fancy it is inside. Once again, he’s entrusted Sonny to drive, and he starts talking almost as soon as she gets in. He’s fascinated by what his boss sees in this woman. He thinks she’s kind of average-looking, although the tattoos were certainly eye-catching when he’d seen them in the pool. And she seemed so quiet - hardly anyone at the party that he’d asked could even remember speaking to her.

“Hey, Tegan, is it? Uh, I’m Sonny. I’m kinda E’s bodyguard, not that he needs so much of that these days.”

“Hi Sonny. This is a fancy car.” She looks around at all of the various gadgets and the gold inlay everywhere.

“Well, you’re not from Memphis, are you?”

Tegan snorts. It was cute when Elvis did it, but being told she’s not American has got old over the years. “No, Miss Marple, I’m not. I’m British.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Miss Marple. Little old lady. Solves crimes.”

Sonny frowns. “Huh. You’re a funny one.”

She fiddles with one of the buttons on her skirt. “Am I? D’you mean I’m not his usual type?”

Sonny looks at her in the rear view mirror. “Not really. But he hasn’t really dated in a long time so maybe he’s trying something new.”

She fiddles a bit more, then looks up. “What is his usual type?”

“You mean you’ve never seen Stella? Or Cilla?”

Tegan is too young to really remember Cilla, and she can’t for the life of her think what Stella looked like. “Probably. But I can’t remember.”

Sonny raises both eyebrows. “Young, petite, long dark brown hair, heavy eye make-up. Demure, speak when they’re spoken to.”

“I’m not that demure, you’ve got me there.”

He snorts at the dryness of her response. “You’ve got a lot of tattoos. Didn’t think he’d like that. Never seen someone who wasn’t a sailor or a hooker with that many tattoos.”

Tegan starts to wonder why exactly she’s under the microscope in this conversation, and whether Elvis couldn’t have sent her a more demure driver.

“You’ll be telling me next I’m too fat for him.”

Sonny looks up at the mirror again and catches her eye. She’s a little flushed and he suddenly feels bad.

“Darlin’ you have a lovely figure,” he finds himself saying, then tries to backtrack. “I mean, don’t tell Elvis I said that… or my wife… I don’t mean anything by it…”

Tegan smiles, warmly. Maybe Sonny isn’t so bad after all. “Thanks for the compliment. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

Sonny smiles back. He still thinks she’s a funny one, but they pass the rest of the journey with more relaxed chit chat, and Tegan feels better when he pulls into the drive. Like at least one of Elvis’ friends doesn’t hate her.

***

Elvis fiddles with the collar of his shirt in the mirror. She should be here any time now. He’s still not sure what he’s doing exactly, why he’s pursuing her when he said he wouldn’t. It’s like every time he sees her his heart gains control over his head and he ends up doing things he thinks he shouldn’t. He hears the front door closing and Sonny yelling “EP!” up the stairs, and gives himself a final once over. He can’t remember the last time he wore a suit, but that’s what he’s doing this evening, digging out one of his old belts to set the outfit off. He’s even put on a little matching jewellery. He hopes Tegan likes it.

“EP!” Sonny shouts again, impatiently.

“Okay!” He calls back.

He takes the opportunity to look through the pane of glass above the door of his bedroom, which lets him see in the mirror opposite who is downstairs. Of course he knows who is downstairs, but he wants a glimpse of her outfit. Very cute, he thinks.

Sonny rolls his eyes at the staircase. “I swear to God that man takes more time getting ready than any woman I’ve ever met.”

Tegan giggles. “It’s okay. You can go, you don’t have to wait with me.”

Sonny nods. “Sure. Tell him he can get me on the phone if he needs me, I’m going back to the house.”

Tegan nods and smiles and is a little relieved when Sonny leaves her on her own at the bottom of the stairs. It’s strangely quiet in the house, a stark contrast from the last time she was there, but it gives her a chance to really take it in. The living room has one statement wall painted lilac, and the rest are white. The sofas are long and patterned white and gold, and the accents in the room are painted gold too. There are family photos all around the place, including one of him, Priscilla and Lisa when Lisa was still little. Sonny was right, she looks nothing like Cilla, but it’s hard to know if that’s a good thing or not. They divorced, after all. There are animal rugs on the floor and there’s a long glass coffee table in the middle of the room. The whole room is very intensely Elvis but also very contemporary. She wonders if he chose the decor or had someone do it for him.

“Tegan bach.”

She spins around to see him standing behind her, decked out in what looks like a very expensive suit. The bling on his fingers and around his neck is almost dazzling, and so are his eyes.

“Cariad,” she replies, without thinking.

He frowns a little, pulling her towards him and putting his arms around her. “What’s that?”

She puts her hands on his chest and looks up into his face. “It’s just a pet name. Cariad. It means love. Caraid aur; precious love. Aur is gold, like all these,” she picks up one of his gold necklaces and rubs it between her fingers.

He grins. “Ya callin’ me precious?”

She smirks a little. “Ti’n iawn, ‘raur?”

“What?!”

“You okay, precious?”

He giggles, kissing her gently. “I like it.” Blushing a little, he looks down at her through his lashes. “Will ya call me that? Precious?”

“If you want, ‘raur,” she replies, smiling and gently bumping her nose against his.

“It sounds like a tiger. Rawwwrrr.”

They both giggle again, lost in their own little world for a moment. Then Elvis’ stomach rumbles and he remembers he invited her for dinner.

“C’mon Tegan bach, dinner time.”

He leads her into the dining room and sits her next to him at the table, before ringing the bell behind him. The cook appears a few moments later with two plates piled high with food.

“I thought I’d let ya try some of the best Southern cuisine in Memphis. An’ then you can cook f’me, if ya still want ta.”

She digs in to the food happily, fried chicken, fries, greens and beans. They talk a little about Memphis and her job and karate and his. And then when they’re both absolutely stuffed he leads her through to the TV room, fixing her a gin and tonic and sitting close to her on one of the pale pink sofas. She takes a sip of her drink and then remembers the necklace she’d brought with her.

“Oh, I have to show you something! Hang on.”

She rummages about in her handbag and he looks at her curiously, wondering what on earth she could have to show him. She finally finds it and holds it up for him to see.

“Got it for Christmas donkey’s years ago.”

It’s an EP necklace, gold-plated with crystals in the letters. He squints at it for a moment and then holds his hand out. She puts it down carefully on his palm and he rummages around in a drawer of one of the cabinets next to the sofa, bringing out a pair of reading glasses and pushing them onto his face. Looking down again, he breaks into a grin.

“Ya still like it?”

She nods. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”

“I’ll get ya a proper one made. Real diamonds, not this cheap shit.”

“Oh, Elvis, you don’t have to do that. This is fine. Here.” She takes it back off him and puts it on.

He leans on the back of the sofa with his elbow, looking at her with the necklace on over the top of his glasses.

“I’ll get ya a proper one. But this’ll do fer now.” He smirks. “At least people will know who’s y’are…” he slides a finger under the chain, running it along her skin and looking at her face for her reaction.

She blushes and looks at him a little shyly.

“They’ll know ya belong ta me,” he continues, holding the EP between his finger and thumb, his eyes flicking up to her face again. “Hm?”

“Yes,” she whispers back. She can feel herself getting wet at his words and it’s almost a little embarrassing. She’s sure she was a feminist when she walked through the door, but hearing him talk so possessively is making her dizzy.

“Good.”

He drops the necklace and leans back, looking at her flushed face and the way her skirt has ridden up her thigh a little, exposing one of her tattoos.

“This is pretty,” his hand rests on her thigh, then slowly moves up, pushing the fabric of her dress up as it goes. A pin-up style mermaid wrapped in a squid starts to appear under his hand. Once he’s pushed it up all the way to the crease of her thigh he lightly brushes his fingers over the outside of her panties and then moves his hand away completely.

“Thanks,” she just about manages, hearing her heartbeat in her ears.

One of his fingers starts to trace the outline of the picture. “She looks happy caught up in this squid here.”

Her face is burning hot and her throat feels dry. “I guess she is.”

“Hmmm. I wonder why that is.”

She bites her lip. “Maybe she likes the feeling of being trapped.”

His fingers stop drawing the outline of the tattoo and he lays his palm flat against her leg, dragging it up firmly from her knee to her hip.

“Oh, is that so? Like a fly trapped in a spider’s web?”

She nods. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Ah.”

His hand grips the top of her thigh, thumb brushing against her panties again.

“How much does she like it?” He asks as his other hand trails down from her shoulder to her breast, knocking the strap of her dress off her shoulder. His thumb dips into the top of her dress and her bra, stroking the skin there.

She can see her chest heaving and tries to swallow to wet her throat a little before she replies. She wishes he would kiss her and stop just looking at her like this.

“A lot,” she whispers, still sounding a little hoarse.

He grins, licking his lips as he carries on staring at her over the glasses. Then he shifts the hand on her thigh to press it against the outside of her panties. She whimpers softly.

“Feels like she likes it a lot.”

His fingers rub her repeatedly through her panties and she squirms a little.

“Shall we look an’ see how much she likes it? Y’want me ta?”

His hands move to either side of the top of her panties, hooking two fingers into the elastic waistband. She can’t lie and say she doesn’t want him to take them off, but her heart is beating out of her chest. She can’t remember the last time anyone saw her down there.

“Yes,” she whispers again. “But… E-Elvis…?”

“Yes honey.”

“Can I have a kiss?”

His whole demeanour softens a little and he smiles warmly. “Of course ya can honey.”

His hands let go of her panties and both go to her face, holding it as he kisses her thoroughly. His glasses bump her cheek a little and he moves to take them off but she grabs hold of one of his forearms and shakes her head. He smirks a little.

“Oh, ya like ‘em?”

“They make you look like a sexy teacher.”

He giggles, almost looking a little embarrassed himself. “Is that so?”

She nods. “Keep them on, please.”

“Anythin’ fer my little girl.”

He presses another quick kiss to her lips and then hooks his fingers back through her panties again, waiting for her to nod her consent before he pulls them down and off. He pushes her skirt up properly and she starts to giggle.

“What?” He asks, looking up at her over his glasses in an almost exaggeratedly teacherish way.

“I… I don’t know…” she puts her hand over her mouth, still giggling. “I think I’m just nervous. It’s been a while.”

“Nothin’ ta be nervous about honey. I’m gonna take my time an’ try ta make ya feel good, an’ if ya want me to stop any time ya jus’ say, hm?”

She nods, still half-laughing but relieved that his tone is more gentle and less overwhelmingly sexy now.

“I’m gonna take a look at this pretty pussy now,” he coos. Somehow her nervousness is making him more confident and he feels like if she likes him wearing the reading glasses she might like this too. He’s always had a kind of sixth sense when it comes to knowing what a woman might like and he hopes it hasn’t worn off from not using it for so long.

Tegan bites her lip, feeling like she’s under a microscope again but in the best possible way. She watches him as he moves closer to her, looking between her legs and then flicking his eyes up at her face.

“Very pretty.”

“You think so? I wondered if I should’ve shaved… I mean I hate waxing but…” she’s babbling now and she knows it.

Elvis grins, licking his lips deliberately. “Honey, most of the pussy I’ve seen was before shaving was a thing. An’ that’s the way I like it.” He sees her smile in response and then continues, “why don’tcha lie down so I can look atcha properly?”

She sits up to take her sandals off and then lies back on the sofa with her legs bent at the knee. Feeling a little bit like she’s about to be examined by a particularly attractive doctor. Pushing her knees back so her feet come up, he takes the opportunity to gently kiss her toes before leaning down close to her pussy. He very gently parts her lips with his thumbs, then licks a stripe up her, swirling his tongue around her clit for a moment before pulling back and looking at her face.

Her eyes are closed, but when she doesn’t feel his tongue again they spring open.

“Ya taste good, Tegan bach,” he tells her, softly.

She squirms a little and puts a hand over her eyes. He smirks, crawling over her body and pulling the hand away, kissing her deeply, his tongue pushing into her mouth.

“See?”

“Elvis!” She squeaks.

“Thought ya had a pet name f’me…” he mumbles, almost bashful.

“You only get that if you don’t tease me so much!”

“Ya don’t like bein’ teased? I think ya do…”

He moves back down to between her legs and pushes her legs apart, starting to lick her with unexpected fervour. She moans a little, arching her back as he eats her like his last meal, looking up at her the whole time through his glasses. Just as her breathing starts to speed up he pulls off her and sits back on his heels, holding one of her calves in each hand.

“Oh!” She exclaims.

He giggles. “Think ya like a little teasin’, hm?”

Letting go of her legs, he runs a finger from her little hole up to her clit and back down again, spreading her juices around.

“E-Elvis…” she begins.

“Mmmm, no. Want ya t’call me by that special name…”

He presses a kiss to her thigh, just above her knee, and then continues towards her pussy, kisses turning to nips and finally a hard bite right at the top of her leg.

“Ow!”

He grins, wickedly, and then kisses his way around her pussy, making her wriggle and huff impatiently, trying to get him where she wants him. He kisses her clit and then takes it between his teeth, tugging lightly.

“Ahhh! Elvis!”

“Uh-uh.”

Moving his head away again, this time he slaps her clit with his hand very lightly, looking immediately for her reaction. She squeaks and squirms and giggles and blushes all at once.

“Please!”

“Someone’s gettin’ frustrated…” he teases, as he alternates between licking and slapping.

She throws her head back, letting out a frustrated moan and screwing her eyes shut. She can’t remember a man ever making her react like this, she feels like she’s losing her head.

“‘Raur!”

“Awww, now that’s all I wanted, sweetie. Now ya can cum.”

His head buries itself between her legs again and she finds herself gripping it with her hands, fingers deep in his hair. She has no idea what the fuck he’s doing with his tongue but whatever it is, it’s driving her crazy. She can feel her orgasm building and she tries to relax and not strain to reach it for once. He briefly comes up for air and then pushes her legs even further apart, pressing down on them until her knees almost reach the sofa cushions and diving back into her pussy like a man possessed.

“Fuck. Don’t stop.” She moans out, even closer now.

She feels his tongue speed up, flicking back and forth over her clit, faster and faster until finally she’s there, groaning out her climax as she throws her arms above her head. He lets his tongue relax and slowly runs it over her a few more times, before sitting up and leaning heavily against the back of the sofa, his head lolling on his shoulders.

He lets out a low whistle and shakes his head a little.

“Mmmm, you okay?” She asks, squinting up at him, too blissed out to move.

He pulls his glasses down to the end of his nose and looks at her over them, pursing his lips a little.

“Ya wore this old man out, Tegan bach.”

She giggles and then slowly sits up, stroking his face with her hand.

“Sorry ‘raur.”

He pushes his glasses back onto his face and grins. “Haven’t eaten pussy that good in a long time.”

She blushes and puts her head on his shoulder, cuddling into him. One of his arms wraps around her and his other hand splays over her thigh, possessively. He kisses the top of her head.

“Don’t think I’ve ever been eaten that well,” she mumbles into his shirt.

“Hm? No. That’s a damn crime,” he tells her, kissing her hair again.

“Can I do something for you?” She asks, hand starting to trail down from his chest towards the waistband of his pants.

He catches it midway down and puts it back on his chest, his big hand enveloping her small one. “That’s okay, honey.”

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion but she doesn’t say anything. If he doesn’t want her to touch him then there’s not a lot she can do about it.

They spend a few hours in the TV room, chatting and drinking and even watching a little TV. Tegan is amazed by how tactile Elvis is and how tactile he somehow makes her too. She finds herself happily sitting in his lap, combing her fingers through his hair as if they’ve known one another forever. He runs his fingers over her tattoos and asks her questions about them, always interested in why she got that particular thing, rather than the usual annoying demands about whether or not they hurt. She doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting there, but she does notice when she drops off, waking up with a start in his arms.

“Oh shit.”

Elvis chuckles. “Hi there, sleeping beauty.”

“What time is it?”

“1am.”

She yawns, then puts her hand over her mouth. “Hmmm. I should go.”

“I’ll get Sonny to drive ya home.”

“Does Sonny not want to be asleep? I can take a cab.”

Elvis shakes his head. “Not from this house ya can’t. Don’t worry about Sonny. He’s awake as late as me.”

Tegan considers continuing to argue the toss and then decides against it, allowing herself to be picked up and carried to the front door once Elvis has successfully located Sonny and persuaded him to come and take her home. Elvis sets her down and then hands her her panties back, which makes her laugh. She stuffs them in her bag and then puts her arms around his neck.

“Am I going to see you again before class?”

“Class is Tuesday. Yer quite needy, aintcha?” He’s teasing but she frowns and pouts.

“I mean, come on. You literally left the state the last time we fooled around. I’m kinda expecting you to leave the country this time.”

He smirks. “I won’t go anywhere. But I’m not used ta this. Let’s just see each other at class on Tuesday, hm?”

Tegan tries to hide her disappointment but she’s sure she’s failing. “Yeah, okay,” she replies, doing her best impression of a smile.

He rubs his hands up and down her sides, looking down at her steadily. “Maybe if ya still want ta, ya can cook fer me next weekend?”

She smiles properly now, nodding enthusiastically. “I’d love to.”

“Alright then. See ya at class.”

He gives her a kiss goodbye just as Sonny turns up at the front door. The other man waits patiently for them to untangle themselves, smiling a little at the sight of his boss seeming so loved up for once. His wife had complained about him going to Graceland to do another job for Elvis so late at night, but he doesn’t mind. He actually quite enjoyed talking to Tegan on the way there, and he’s interested to see what he can get out of her on the way back. He likes to see his boss happy again, and he’s eager to do whatever he can to keep it that way.

***

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jhoneybees · 11 days ago

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Such a pretty boy🥹

Rehearsals for Elvis' third engagement season at the International Hotel in Las Vegas, NV. July 1970 – Rehearsals filmed for the music documentary "Elvis: That's The Way It Is" (MGM, 1970).

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis #elvis fandom

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jhoneybees · 11 days ago

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If I Can Dream: Chapter 1

A/N: Man, I've been so back and forth on whether to publish this one or just keep it to myself forever. This series is very near and dear to my heart, so I'd love to hear your thoughts if you enjoy it.

An extra special thank you to my besties @ccab and @atleastpleasetelephone for all their encouragement. Thanks for putting up with me! I love you both! 🩷🩷🩷

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one.

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: this will eventually have smut, but is pretty fluffy/angsty for now. Elvis is sad and dealing with self esteem issues. There's also a small mention of drug use. Jo smokes cigarettes.

Word count: ~2.4k

Elvis looks at himself in the mirror again and tries not to cringe. At least he was able to zip the jumpsuit and get the belt on. The silver phoenix spreads across his torso, distracting from the rest of him. But he's not used to seeing this old man looking back at him. He touches his face gently, his rings glittering in the light, and sighs deeply. It wasn't so long ago that he was a sleek, handsome sex machine and now he's this. Old and tired and fat. Washed up. That's what the magazines say: washed up.

“EP, it's time!” Jerry hollers from the hallway. Elvis takes another deep breath and groans when the belt cuts into his stomach.

It's December of 1975 and Elvis is back in Vegas to finish the engagement he started in August that landed him in the hospital yet again for exhaustion. He's not sure he'll make it through this one either, but he's determined to try. If he doesn't have anything left to offer on stage, what the hell is the point?

He closes his eyes and turns from the mirror, walking to the door. Before he opens it, he rearranges his face into a smile. Nobody needs to know how he feels.

******

Jo looks in the mirror and moves a few pieces of her hair around on her forehead. When she came home with her pixie cut a few weeks ago, her best friend almost lost it. Evelyn couldn't believe Jo'd cut off all of her beautiful hair right before she was supposed to be in her wedding. But Jo was tired of messing with it. This was much easier and she liked the way it made her look young and fun. At 36, she was eager for anything that made her look younger.

She touches her cheek and looks at her eye makeup in the mirror. She has on the kind of thick black liner and mascara that makes her eyes look wide and doll-like and was popular when she was younger. Makeup is a little less dramatic now, but she likes this look better than the current style.

Her lavender shirt is almost see-through and her navy pants hug her ass just right. She's got a nice body, for her age, having been blessed with a fast metabolism and well-proportioned curves.

“Jo Bellamy, you're a catch.” She says it out loud to the mirror and nods affirmatively. Evelyn laughs from the bathroom and hollers amidst her giggles.

“Yeah, too bad you're too busy runnin’ to let a man catch you!” Jo looks at her friend and crinkles her nose.

“I'd stop for the right man.” Evelyn snorts.

“He'd have to be a hell of a man to stop you.”

“Yes, he would. I won't settle for anything less than the deepest love.” Jo smiles dreamily as her friend walks back into their hotel room. They've come to Vegas to celebrate Evelyn's last weekend as a single woman.

“Is that why you insisted on seeing Elvis? You think he's the right man?” Evelyn pokes Jo in the side and they both giggle.

“Ah yes, Elvis Presley. The man that no one else can live up to. He's the reason I've been single all these years, you know.”

“Oh, I'm aware. And it's ridiculous. We've seen him how many times, now?”

“Six. But I've never been on the front row. This is a big deal.” Evelyn looks at Jo nervously.

“You're gonna do something crazy, aren't you?” Jo pretends to be offended.

“Moi?! Noooooo, never.” But her reassurance is not received. Evelyn has known Jo since second grade. The only thing you could count on with her was that she'd do something crazy.

“Just don't get us kicked out again.” Jo laughs, thinking of how she'd been carried out of a venue in ‘72 for trying to get to his car after a concert.

“Hey, the show was over!” Evelyn rolls her eyes. She's been there for Jo's whole Elvis-obsessed life, from seeing him in 1955 on the back of a truck in a parking lot in Memphis, to being at the train station when he left for the army, to seeing every single movie, to flying to Vegas when he opened there in 1969. She used to be just as big of a fan, but that faded when she met Phil five years ago. Now, she just thinks it's time for Jo to grow up and move on like she did. Jo winks. “But I make no promises. I'm getting desperate.”

She has no intention of moving on. Elvis is the only man who has ever been consistent in her life, even if he doesn't know who she is. And now he's not married anymore, so she feels better about trying to catch him. Tonight might be her only chance to be this close to him. She's not going to waste it.

******

Elvis moves around the stage, doing his normal show routine. He's absolutely exhausted and the crowd's energy feels off. Honestly, he's not far from just walking off and calling it a night. He doesn't even kiss anyone during Love Me Tender, just tosses a couple of scarves into the audience.

“Something's wrong.” Jo mutters to Evelyn.

“What do you mean?”

“With him. Something's wrong.” Evelyn studies her friend. Jo is watching him like a hawk, her eyebrows pulled together.

“You know, I read a thing about him being on drugs-” Jo whips her head around.

“No. This is different. He's sad. He's not high.” Evelyn wonders how she can tell the difference, but doesn't push her on it.

By the end of the show, though, Jo is trying desperately not to cry. Her heart is broken for him and she can't even really say why. When he starts the last song, she stands up.

“Jo! Josephine! Sit down!” Evelyn pulls on her hand. Her heart is in her throat, but she can't let him leave the stage like this.

Elvis notices a girl in the front row standing as he starts his last song. He can't believe he made it to the end of the show and he's ready to leave this stage and never come back. But he can't take his eyes off the girl that's standing. He thinks about going to the edge of the stage to give her a scarf and a kiss, but before he can do that, she acts.

Jo pushes her chair to the edge of the stage, stands on it, and drags herself up onto the platform. Evelyn is yelling at her, but she blocks her out. Her heart is pounding and she knows she has about three seconds before Charlie grabs her, so she goes straight to Elvis.

Elvis is in shock as the girl runs to him and launches herself into his arms, wrapping herself around his neck. It's certainly not the first time a fan has come up on stage, but it's been a little while. He relaxes a bit when she kisses his cheek and whispers.

“It's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay. We still love you. I still love you.” He smiles a bit and whispers back.

“Thank you, dear.”

And then Charlie is there with his arms around her waist and she lets go of Elvis and allows herself to be carried away. He almost grabs her hand, but he stops himself. She's got to be crazy, coming up on the stage like that. But she didn't feel crazy; she felt desperate, and he understands that feeling. Even beyond that, her words were kinder than anything he's experienced in a while. There's a kind of ache to hear more of what she has to say.

The show ends and he calls Joe over to him.

“Find her.”

“Which one?”

“The one who came up on the stage, dumbass.” Elvis knows they're wasting precious time and she might be leaving.

“Oh. I'm sorry boss-”

“What did you do?”

“It wasn't me! They escorted her out of the venue.” Elvis feels rage bubble up inside him.

“THEY KICKED HER OUT?!” He bellows and kicks over a chair backstage.

“Security did! They figured you would want her gone!” Joe is obviously starting to panic. Elvis rounds on him and his eyes burn with anger.

“You find her. Go now. Find her.”

“But boss you could have-”

“I WANT HER.” Joe knows when it's time to stop arguing and get to work, so he nods quickly and takes off. “I want her…”

He whispers it quietly to himself, a little surprised that he said it. There hasn't been anyone he's wanted in a while. But something about her was different. He tells himself he's just curious to figure it out. That has to be it.

******

Jo grunts in frustration again and lights her cigarette while they wait for a cab to take them back to their hotel.

“Well, what did you think was gonna happen?!” Evelyn is less than amused by Jo's decision to run up on the stage and get them both kicked out.

“I dunno. This, I guess. But I still wanted to see the end of the show. Also it felt like he wanted to talk to me more.” Evelyn rolls her eyes so hard Jo is afraid it might be painful.

“You just want that to be true.”

“No! You weren't up there with him.”

“Jo, this is ridiculous. He's a celebrity. You don't know him.”

“I don't have to know someone to know when they're in need.” She stamps on her cigarette as a cab pulls over to them and they climb inside. Evelyn tells the cabbie where to take them and they ride in silence the rest of the way.

Joe gets to the sidewalk just as their cab pulls away. He doesn't know it was her in the car, though, so he runs around frantically looking. After almost an hour, he goes back to Elvis, ready to have his tail kicked for failing.

“You didn't find her?” Joe shakes his head sullenly and looks at the floor. Elvis has his jumpsuit off and his pajamas and robe on. He'd lost hope after about twenty minutes of Joe being gone. “Oh well.”

Joe leaves and Elvis turns all the lights off and closes the curtains, leaving the room almost pitch black until he turns the televisions on. He swallows a handful of pills and settles on the couch.

They'll head back to Memphis in a few days and he'll have some peace. Still, some part of him wishes she wasn't out of his life forever. Just another woman to add to his list of regrets. Too bad he doesn't even know this one’s name.

******

Evelyn and Jo leave Vegas the next day and go back home to their normal lives. Evelyn is preparing for the wedding and Jo is watching the papers for news that Elvis is back in Memphis. Despite all the urging from Evelyn to give up, she's not quite ready to quit. Not when it seems like he might need her. Evelyn just rolls her eyes and tells her she better not miss the wedding because she's chasing an impossible dream.

When she sees that Elvis gets home a few days later, Jo leaves work in the middle of the day to go to the Graceland gates. He's already inside when she gets there and joins the throng of women outside waiting for him. She's instantly annoyed by their presence and knows he must be too, so she turns and walks back to her car.

Elvis is in his bedroom with the lights off. He peeks out the window briefly and sees the crowd at the gates. It should encourage him, but it doesn't. He's convinced they're all just dreaming of a man that doesn't exist anymore. He closes the heavy drapes and crawls into bed, even though it's the middle of the day. Even reading sounds too daunting right now, so he just closes his eyes. He knows he won't sleep, but he can at least pretend to try. Maybe it'll help this feeling go away.

Jo comes back to Graceland at about 1:30 in the morning and is excited to see that all the other fans have gone home. She stands at the gates for a bit, but it's so cold that she starts to lose feeling in her fingers and toes. The house is mostly dark, but she knows he's in there and he's probably awake. With his performance schedule in Vegas, there's no way he's not a night owl. She walks back to her car to warm up and look around for some way she can try to get his attention. Then she sees it in her backseat: a ream of copy paper. There's a black marker in her purse that she keeps there just in case, so she digs it out. She writes on the paper in big letters:

I’M THE GIRL THAT HUGGED YOU ON STAGE ON SATURDAY.

She'll have to assume she's the only one that did that. She writes it on a few more papers and then scribbles her name and phone number on all of them.

“This is crazy.” Jo mutters to herself as she stands at the gates, bouncing from one foot to the other with an armload of paper airplanes. It takes her a few tries and she has to walk to a place where the wall is a little lower, but eventually she's able to sail all of them over to his side. She imagines that the guards are probably getting a good kick out of what she's doing, but she doesn't care. This is too important. But she's done all she can do tonight. The ball is now literally in his court. Hopefully, he'll see the notes and call her. Or he won't and she can finally put to rest this idea that she has stuck in her brain and go on that date with Alan from work. He's been after her for months now and she's running out of excuses to say no. Jo gets back in her car, rubbing her hands together for warmth, and says a silent prayer that Elvis will call.

******

Until Chapter 2!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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jhoneybees · 12 days ago

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It Hurts Me (an Elvis fic)

Pairing: 50s!Elvis x Fem!Reader

Summary: Elvis’ high school best friend, and also his crush, gets into a bad relationship, and the whole town starts to notice including Elvis. When it hits a breaking point for him, he decides he’s had enough.

Warnings/Triggers: Domestic violence, Emotional abuse, Self-loathing behavior, references to puking (Elvis), references to bruises, slight mentions of payback (Elvis), Crying. If I missed any, please lmk!

Memphis, Tennessee-

Elvis was in love with you. A broken girl in a broken relationship.

You had met a guy a year back, and you fell for him. He had impressed you with his charm, charm that would soon disappear.

Elvis fell in love with you the second he laid eyes on you. History class at Humes High. You came half way through the school year, embarrassed and shy.

The second you walked through the classroom door, a young Elvis felt like he had been electrocuted. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was about you that made him feel as he did.

He loved the way you smiled, it made him smile. Your laugh was like heaven to him. He couldn't get enough of your sweet voice, even when you weren't around his mind was full of you and your voice. Every time you touched him he would get chills. It was like a flame igniting inside him.

You two were fast friends. In fact, Elvis was the only friend you had in Memphis. The best friend in the world was what you would describe him as. You spent every free second you had together. He was like a breath of fresh air, an escape from real life and all the troubles it came with.

Yet for some reason you had convinced yourself that you only saw him as a friend. He was strictly off limits intimately.

As the years went on, Elvis was finally going to find the courage to ask you out. But when you met a guy at Memphis State College Elvis felt helpless. He couldn't bring himself to tell you his feelings, so he sat by and watched the love of his life with another man. It was awful- even making him physically sick sometimes.

You seemed so happy and Elvis didn't want to change that. But as two months turned into a year, poor Elvis fell even deeper for you. It was like he had no control over it- an invisible force pulling him to you.

You had been hurting for months. Max had started showing his true colors.

A slight, meaningless glance at a man that wasn't him would earn a punch. Then there were the times that he put you down emotionally, he could make everything you did something to make you feel horrible about. You were either too loving or not enough. Nothing you did was right.

You felt so utterly alone. He had made you hate yourself to the point that you couldn't even look at yourself in the mirror.

Then there was him, your best friend, Elvis. The rare moments you had with him were the only times you felt loved. But even then, you didn't think you deserved to be loved. Max had screwed with you so much mentally and physically. He had broken you.

And you thought you had concealed it so well. In public you wore makeup and acted as if nothing was wrong.

But people talked and snooped. Somewhere along the way the whole town had an idea of how unwell your relationship was going.

But Elvis had it all figured out the second it began. It started with less eye contact, then you lost your ability to touch him, the flinching away from his own touch came next, his heart broke when your smile faded away. He was absolutely sure when your visits became more rare, and eventually they stopped altogether except special occasions like holidays and the such.

And when your little sister let it slip that she hadn't been hearing from you as much either, he went home and cried for hours. He couldn't believe it. It made his blood boil that you were hurting. He was hurting from just thinking about it.

His family spent every holiday with yours, something that came about from your friendship. In the process of you two getting closer, so did your families.

On Thanksgiving he locked himself in the bathroom and puked. You were hugging your mother when your sleeve rolled up the slightest bit, and he came face to face with a bruised handprint on your forearm.

Christmas, 1954-

Elvis had just began getting famous, it was happening so fast. You were so proud of him.

After not being able to think fast enough to get away, you were sucked into a hug by him. You were so scared, and wished you could go back in time so it wouldn't have happened.

Max had seen, and pulled you into another room. "What the hell was that, Y/N?" He snarled, pushing you into the wall forcefully. "I'm sorry! I didn't know he was going to do that," you whispered.

"I'll bet you liked it," "No, I promise!"

He obviously thought differently as he smacked you across the face, "you little slut, don't you ever pull that shit again," and then he straightened his tie and walked back into the living room.

You sank onto the floor in a crying mess.

After what felt like hours, but in reality was only two minutes, a knock came from the door. You froze, covering your mouth with your hand to silence yourself.

Your antics had been unsuccessful as the door creeped open slowly. Elvis poked his head in. At seeing you, he quickly came in and dropped down onto the floor in front of you.

He didn't even say anything at first- opening his arms to you and waiting. You realized how desperately you missed him and scooted into his embrace. You held onto him for dear life, nuzzling your head as far as you could into his chest.

He maneuvered you onto his lap and held you as you cried. Elvis stroked your hair gently and rocked you. The two of you stayed like that until you were ready to let go.

You stared into your best friend's eyes and mustered up the courage to finally tell him. You were so done with feeling this way, you missed him so badly that it hurt your stomach sometimes.

"I'm sorry, Elvis. It's just t-that Max-" you we're interrupted by his finger on your lips. "I know, honey. It's okay, you ain't gotta worry about him no more." He said gently. "What do you mean?"

The ghost of a smile flashed over his lips, "When you're ready to go back out there, I'm gonna kick his ass." He stated matter of factly. All you could do was stare back at him.

Elvis's eyes glanced to your lips, causing chills to run up your spine. And as he leaned in you didn't stop him.

When his lips connected with yours it felt like fireworks had erupted in your belly. You soon realized that you didn't ever want this to end, and that you had been wanting this since the second you met Elvis Presley.

You had been in love with him all along, just too scared to admit it.

He rested his forehead against yours as he pulled away. "It hurts me the way he treats you, honey." He whispered, breathlessly. And for the first time in a very long time you smiled a genuine smile.

"I love ya, Y/N. I have since day one," he breathed. You grabbed his face and pulled him into a passionate kiss. His tongue caressed your bottom lip, making you sigh, and in the process he slipped it into your mouth.

When you pulled away for air, you whispered, "I love you too, Elvis. I always have."

Heyyy, stopping in to give you this fic from my Wattpad that’s from 2022. Um it’s probably horrible, so bear with me. I just wanted to post something to keep my account active while I continue working on the His Annie Baker series. Enjoy🫶🏻

Tags: @queenstarlight @jhoneybees

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