#Elvis Presley | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ladelinee · 21 hours ago

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Author's note: Sorry for the delay or grammar mistake! I had a lot to do. I make up for it, this episode is longer. 🤭

Word count: 5.1K

Warnings: +18!!! Minors dni, masturbation, cussing, innocent, angst.

Dontcha’ think It’s time

Part 3 (Part 2 here)

“Seriously?” You let out a deep sigh.

Jerry had been everywhere since morning.

Right outside your bedroom door. By your side at breakfast. And now, after two whole hours of sitting in the garden, trying to focus on your book…there he was, planted on the bench beside you, baking under the sun but not moving an inch.

You stared at him. He was half-lounging, fanning himself lazily with the day’s newspaper, his shirt slightly unbuttoned from the heat, and his eyes half-closed against the sunlight.

“Sorry, kid” Jerry muttered, shifting slightly but refusing to budge. “Your uncle told me to be your shadow. I’m just doing my job. Personal bodyguard…doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t need a personal bodyguard.”

“Well, tell that to Elvis.”

You groaned, pressing the book against your forehead. “This is ridiculous.”

“Tell that to Elvis, too.”

You exhaled sharply, snapping your book shut before standing up. The sun was starting to sting against your skin. You brushed off your dress, and turned on your heel, heading back toward the house.

As soon as you stepped inside, the cool air wrapped around you like a lifeline.

You hadn’t seen Elvis all morning.Which, honestly, was a relief. Because you’d been avoiding him.

You told yourself it was because he was busy. Because you didn’t want to bother him. But deep down, you knew the truth. You were embarrassed to see him.

A million horrible, humiliating scenarios ran through your head.

What would you even say?

“Hey, Uncle Elvis, last night you touched my cheek, and I totally freaked out. Could you do it again?”

No.Absolutely not.

Again, your mind played it out:

“Hey, Uncle Elvis, I-”

And then you stopped. Because this time, you really freaked out.

The moment you stepped into the living room, you were hit with something massive.The space was completely transformed. What was once a grand, elegant living room was now unrecognizable, it looked less like a living room and more like a high-end boutique.

At the far end, in the music room, at least twenty jumpsuits hung neatly on racks. Around them, the guys stood, surrounded by rolls of fabric in every color, intricate design sketches, and samples of rhinestones.

Tailors and assistants buzzed around, adjusting hems, pinning designs, discussing crystals and stitching techniques like surgeons in an operating room.

And right in the middle of it all, standing on a platform, arms stretched out while the tailor measured him, was Elvis.

His shirt was undone, exposing his chest, and he was barefoot. He stood tall, relaxed, completely in his element.

His presence was massive, filling every inch of the space. You didn’t even realize you had stopped breathing. It was impossible to take your eyes off him.

And everyone around him felt it too.

They hung on his every word, laughing at his jokes, nodding along as he gestured toward the sketches, the fabrics, making quick decisions with the kind of confidence that only he could pull off.

And God, was he good at it.

And yet, the moment his eyes landed on you, his face lit up as if you had just stepped into the world he ruled.

“Hey, darlin’! There you are!”

Your body went rigid. He was acting normal, as if last night had never happened. You forced a smile, stepping into the room, pretending it didn’t matter.

Elvis didn’t even blink, his expression warm, welcoming, easy. As if you were just a kid wandering into the room, as if he hadn’t caught the way you had looked at him the night before, as if he hadn’t seen the longing in your eyes.

You hated how much it bothered you.

Before you could even think of something to say, Sonny suddenly grabbed two big cristals, pressed them over his eyes like shimmering goggles, and turned toward Elvis with dead seriousness.

“E, I can see your bright future,” he declared in a mystical voice, waving his hands as if channeling some otherworldly force. “It’s blinding, man.”

Elvis grinned, enjoying this way too much. “Well, damn, we don’t need another Larry, man.”

While Sonny laughed at Elvis’s comeback, Red smacked him upside the head so hard that the rhinestones popped out of his grip and rolled under the couch.

“See that in your future, dumbass?” Red muttered.

The guys burst into laughter.

Meanwhile, the tailor, who already looked like he had aged ten years in one night from putting up with their nonsense, sighed heavily. His hands re-adjusted the measuring tape around Elvis’s waist like he was handling a wild animal.

Elvis, suddenly serious, looked down at him.

“Hey, tell me the truth. Do I look ridiculous in jumpsuit?”

Charlie was already shaking his head, muttering, “Oh boy, here we go.”

The tailor closed his eyes for a long moment, inhaling deeply through his nose, holding it, and then exhaling it.

“Mr. Presley” he said, his voice carrying the heavy weight of suffering, “I have spent my entire career…”

Elvis grinned like he had just won an award.

“Aw c’mon, don’t be dramatic now! I’m easy, man.”

The guys laughed even harder this time.

The tailor, looking like he was one bad joke away from throwing himself out the nearest window, adjusted his glasses and tried again.

“Mr. Presley, please stop moving. I am trying to measure your waist.”

Elvis nodded seriously, held his arms out, and attempted to stand still.

For exactly five seconds. And then…

Elvis interrupted himself by moving again, spinning his hips slightly just to make a point.

“Alright, but f’real, how tight can we make a jumpsuit without me losin’ circulation? ‘Cause I gotta be able to shake, y’know.”

The tailor sighed heavily and stepped away, desperately in need of a moment to collect himself.

You found the moment extremely funny, you adored Elvis in this mood, and for a brief instant, you forgot everything.

Elvis voice cut through the noise, directed at you.“Darlin’, do me a favor, will ya? Pass me one of those cigars over there.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the simple request. The weight of the moment hit you all at once. He was including you in his world, in the moment. Like you weren’t just standing on the sidelines, watching from afar. It sent a rush of excitement through you.

“Sure!” you replied, eager to help.

You turned toward the small wooden box sitting on the lower shelf of a nearby table and reached for it.

And then It happened. Without thinking, you bent at the waist. Elvis saw it before it even happened.

His entire body tensed and with a gulp, his jaw locked. Your dress lifted just enough. A sliver of white lace, a brief glimpse, barely anything, but enough for him to see. His throat went dry.

Elvis turned just in time to find Jerry’s eyes flicker downward. It wasn’t intentional, it was just a glance, a moment of instinct. But it didn’t matter. Before Jerry’s brain could even process what his eyes had landed on, Elvis moved fast.

His hand shot out, grabbing Jerry’s jaw with an iron grip, turning his face so sharply it was almost comical.

Elvis gave him A big, bright, charmingly terrifying smile. The kind that should’ve been friendly but somehow made every hair on Jerry’s body stand up.

“Look at me, son of a bitch” Elvis murmured smoothly, his voice low and calm.

Jerry, frozen, tried to lean back, but Elvis’s grip tightened.

“Oh no, don’t you even think about lookin’ anywhere else.”

The room hadn’t even noticed. Elvis knew exactly how to play the game. He didn’t need to raise his voice and make a scene. If he did, everyone would turn around and see you at your most vulnerable.

Charlie was still cracking jokes, Sonny and Red completely oblivious to the hostage situation happening in the middle of the room were still laughing about something unrelated.

But Jerry was in hell.

“E…” he choked, his voice strangled.

Elvis tilted his head slightly, his expression still sickeningly pleasant.

“You see somethin’, Jer? Hm? Somethin’ interestin’ down there?”

Then, you turned around. And what you saw made no sense: Elvis, gripping Jerry’s face, staring him down. Jerry, half-strangled and wide-eyed, trying to yank himself free.

You frowned, holding the cigar in your hand. “What’s going on?”

Elvis let go immediately, stepping back like nothing had happened, clearing his throat “Nothin’, sugar. Just teachin’ Jerry some damn manners.”

Jerry scoffed, rubbing his jaw, looking completely betrayed. Elvis ignored him, turning his attention back to you.

You hesitated before stepping closer, handing him the cigar. Elvis took it from you smoothly, his fingers grazing yours, lingering just a second too long. Then, he leaned in so close that you felt the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Lesson number two, honey.” He said smirking,

“If you’re gonna bend over in a dress… bend your knees”

Your face burned as the realization slammed into you like a freight train.Elvis just watched you while litting the cigar, waiting for you to say something.

Finally, you managed to find your voice. “I…I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know, darlin’.” His voice was smooth. “That’s why I’m here. Gotta teach you these things, don’t I?”

Your stomach flipped violently. You knew he was just messing with you. That this was probably all a joke to him. But God, why did it feel like something else?

Elvis knew the second the words left his mouth that he shouldn’t have said it like that. The words had slipped out too smooth, carrying a weight he hadn’t intended and that’s what unsettled him the most.

Not wanting to show any regret, he adjusted himself effortlessly, his expression smoothing over as if it were just another casual conversation.

With a slow exhale, he flicked the ash from his cigar into the ashtray and turned lazily toward the tailor.

“Hey” he drawled, his voice light and unconcerned. “Go on ‘n measure her next.”

The tailor looked at him, surprised.

“Mr. Presley, I have a full schedule…” he said, rubbing his temples.

“Ain’t no problem, sir. I’ll pay ya” Elvis interrupted smoothly and calm.

You blinked, completely caught off guard.

“Wait, what?”

Elvis curved his lips into a small smile, finally looking at you.

“Time to get ya something nice, sugar.”

Still confused, you hesitated before stepping onto the platform. The tailor muttered a few curses under his breath but pulled out the measuring tape anyway.

Elvis leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, his gaze scanning you from head to toe in quiet thought.

“Let’s keep goin’ with the lesson” he started, taking a drag of his cigar. “No more little girl dresses. You’re a woman now.”

You hesitated, embarrassed to admit it, but you said it anyway.

“I don’t pick my own clothes…”

Elvis had suspected as much. His smirk faded just a touch.

“Well, there’s your first mistake” He exhaled through his nose, tapping his cigar against the ashtray. “A woman’s gotta take initiative. If you want somethin’, you ask for it. You go get it”

You hesitated. “Like what?”

Elvis smirked again, tilting his head.

“You tell me, honey.”

You bit your lip, thinking. Then, suddenly, an idea sparked in your mind.

“Can I throw a party?”

Elvis’s eyebrows lifted, impressed. Then, a slow, approving smile spread across his face.

“Now we’re talking,” he nodded, his gaze warming. “Hell yeah, sugar. Throw a party. Invite your friends. I’ll help you, but you’re the one who decidin’ how you want it.”

Your smile widened, excitement bubbling inside you.“Really?”

“As long as nobody gets hurt…” he joked.

You barely heard him, your mind already racing with plans. You had never been allowed to throw a party before. But then, another thought formed in your mind. A test.

“Can I invite my ex?”

Elvis’s expression didn’t change immediately. His smirk was still there, but the lines around his mouth tensed ever so slightly.

Jerry, who had been lounging lazily, suddenly straightened up. He slowly turned his head toward Elvis, raising his eyebrows in a silent You’re gonna let that bastard in here?

“Well, boss,” Jerry muttered, tilting his head and crossing his arms, “Finally, we’ll give our guns a good use.”

Elvis let out a laugh. The tension in the air instantly dissipated as he grinned. “Damn, Jerry,” he muttered, still chuckling. Then, his gaze slid back to you, lazy and unreadable.

“Well” he said, his smirk deepening, “why not? Let’s show him what he’s missin’.”

Your insides twisted with nerves.

Elvis leaned back again, watching your reaction closely. You stared at him, searching his face for a sign to tell you that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want you to invite your ex.

But he didn’t hesitate, didn’t waver. That was all you needed. The excitement in your chest cooled, settling into something steadier, more logical. There’s nothing going on here, you thought. If there was, he would’ve said no. But he didn’t. Because it didn’t matter to him. You realized he was just helping you. Teaching you. Nothing more.

“Tell ya what, sugar,” he said, interrupting your thoughts. “Tonight, some friends of mine are comin’ around.” He took another slow drag of his cigar, then exhaled lazily. “Couple of girls too. If you wanna see what I’m talkin’ about, how they take initiative, you stick around. Observe.”

You blinked, thrown off for a second, but then nodded. You were willing to change.

“Good” he murmured. “Consider it part of your lesson, honey.”

—————————-

The Den had a magic of its own, wild and untamed, like stepping into a private little jungle where anything could happen. Smoke curled lazily through the air, drifting from the cigarettes in the guys’ hands, mingling with the heavy scent of bourbon. Elvis’s music hummed through the speakers, low and smooth, filling the room.

The guys sprawled across the furry couches and chairs, drinks in hand, laughing as they dissected harmonies, debating arrangements like it was life or death. If someone caught a note they didn’t like, Elvis would stop the song, rewind it, and listen again, his brow furrowed as he focused intently.

You sat on the edge of one of the couches, your heart racing with excitement.

This was it.Your first adult gathering.

No kiddie stuff, no games, no one telling you to run along. You were here, right in the heart of it all. Confidence buzzed through you, and it wasn’t just that.

Elvis had smiled at you a few times, catching your eye from across the room, giving you that familiar, soft grin. Like he saw you, but as someone who belonged here, with them. It made your chest flutter.

But then…

The drinks started to get refilled. Again. And again. And slowly, the room shifted.

The guys leaned back deeper into the couches, their voices dropping lower, their laughter rougher. Jokes became quieter, the kind that made them smirk and glance around before saying them out loud. The women giggled, hiding their laughter behind delicate hands, their eyes sparkling with amusement.

You smiled along, pretending to understand, but the edges of the conversation were starting to slip away from you.

You hadn’t noticed it at first, but your fingers had been nervously twisting the hem of your skirt, folding and unfolding it, a subtle sign of how out of place you were starting to feel.

The confidence that had buzzed in your chest earlier now felt thinner, stretched.

That’s when it hit you. You were caught somewhere in between. Too old to be off playing with Lisa, but too young for this.

Your heart started to race, a tightness curling in your chest.

You needed to do something.

Okay… initiative. Women should have initiative.

Elvis’s words echoed in your mind.

You took a breath, your hands still shaking slightly, and crossed the room with as much confidence as you could fake.

Your eyes landed on Jerry.

He was sitting a bit away from the others on the farthest sofa, half-listening to the conversation but clearly lost in his own thoughts, swirling a glass lazily in his hand.

Perfect.

You walked right up to him and sat down at his side, close enough for it to feel intentional.

Jerry blinked, his brow lifting slightly in surprise. But then, a small, approving smile spread across his face.

“Hey, kid,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the hum of music.

You smiled back, though your heart was still racing. “Hey.”

Jerry took a sip of his drink, studying you for a moment. “You doin’ alright?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if it was true. Your eyes flicked to the glass in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.

He smirked. “Trouble.”

You hesitated, feeling the knot of nerves in your stomach, but then the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“I wanna try.”

Jerry chuckled. “I don’t know about that. E’s got eyes everywhere.”

You glanced back at Elvis.

He was laughing at something one of the women had whispered in his ear, his arm stretched lazily across the back of the couch, completely relaxed, completely oblivious to you.

“He’s busy” you muttered under your breath.

Jerry followed your gaze, his expression softening just slightly before he sighed and handed you the glass.

“Alright. One sip.”

You took it, feeling the cool weight of it in your hands.

It smelled sharp, smoky, and sweet all at once. You took a cautious sip.

The burn hit instantly. It was sharp and bitter, searing down your throat as you coughed, your eyes watering.

You shoved the glass back at Jerry, your voice hoarse.

“That’s disgusting.” You said wiping your mouth with your hand.

Jerry laughed, shaking his head. “Welcome to adulthood.”

You laughed weakly and as you handed Jerry’s glass back, still coughing from the sharp burn of the whiskey, a soft, sultry voice slipped into the space between you.

“Well, well… what do we have here?”

You turned to see a brunette woman in a sleek black dress approaching. Without hesitation, she slid onto the couch between you and Jerry, the slit in her dress parting to reveal a smooth stretch of thigh. Her sweet perfume wrapped around you instantly.

She leaned back, resting one arm behind Jerry, her dark eyes flickering between the two of you with a slow, teasing smirk.

“I heard from your uncle,” she began, her voice thick with honeyed amusement, “that you wanna grow up.”

Your breath caught in your throat, heat rushing to your cheeks.

She chuckled, watching the way you fidgeted, then slid her fingers up Jerry’s arm, her nails grazing his sleeve as if you weren’t even there.

“And you… you’re sitting here acting all protective” she purred to Jerry, her voice low and sultry, “but I bet you’re dying to know what she tastes like… aren’t you?”

Jerry stiffened, acting like he didn’t care, but still didn’t speak.

But before you could process her words, the brunette turned her gaze back to you, her voice softening into a silky whisper.

“Let me give you a little tip, honey” she murmured, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Make sure you’re wearing nice lingerie… because once your panties are removed, you’ll want him to remember every inch.”

As the words left her lips, your heart pounded wildly in your chest, but your mind drifted straight to Elvis.You couldn’t help it.

Your eyes found him across the room, surrounded by women, his laughter spilling out easily, that effortless charm radiating from him. One of the blondes leaned into him, her fingers grazing his chest, and he smirked completely relaxed, completely at ease.

Your breath hitched, your cheeks burning as you imagined him hearing the brunette’s words. Imagined him looking at you like that, seeing you that way.

The thought was dizzying and entirely too much.

You didn’t even notice Jerry’s fist tightening beside you.

“That’s enough,” Jerry muttered, his voice rough and strained.

But the brunette only laughed softly, brushing her fingers one last time along Jerry’s shoulder before standing. She smirked at you, her eyes filled with something wicked.

“Good luck, sweetheart” she purred, before sauntering away, her hips swaying as she headed back toward Elvis.

You sat there, your mind spinning, heart racing, the brunette’s words echoing over and over.

Jerry cleared his throat beside you. “Don’t… don’t listen to her” he mumbled, but his voice was tight, uneasy.

But you weren’t listening to him. His words faded into the background, drowned out by the pounding in your chest and the thoughts swirling in your mind.

What if you stayed until the end of the night?

What if you waited until everyone left? Until the women were gone, the drinks dried up, and it was just the two of you alone, like last night in the kitchen. That moment had been quiet and intimate, like you had gotten to see a side of him no one else did. You wanted that again. Needed it.

You shifted on the couch, forcing yourself to sound casual.

“Shall we play chess?” you asked Jerry, glancing at the small table in the corner.

Jerry blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift, but then sighed, giving you a half-smile. “Sure, kid.”

You moved to the chess table, settling into the seat opposite him. The pieces were already set up, and Jerry lazily began sliding a pawn forward, not fully paying attention. His eyes drifted between the board and the conversations happening behind you.

Time passed, the murmur of voices blending with music still humming through the speakers. Jerry moved his pieces slowly, half-heartedly, while you tried to focus on the game.

You could hear the soft giggles, the sweet murmurs from the other side of the room. You tried not to look, but you couldn’t help it.

There he was.

Elvis, surrounded by the women. One of the blondes leaned in, peppering soft kisses along his jawline, while another whispered in his ear. He smiled lazily, eyes half-lidded, soaking in the attention.

A sharp pang of something hot and heavy twisted in your chest.

You hated that they were touching him so easily, kissing him so freely, like it was nothing.

For once, you wanted to be one of the women who could sit so close, touch him, make him laugh.

You moved a pawn forward, hands trembling slightly. Jerry noticed but didn’t say anything.

Minutes ticked by, the laughter behind you louder now, the room warmer, the air thicker.

Your eyelids grew heavy.

You tried to fight it, tried to stay awake, stay there, wait until the moment was right, but your body was betraying you.

Your chin dipped, and your eyes fluttered shut for a second too long.

Then a hand landed gently on your shoulder, startling you awake. You blinked, looking up.

It was him.

Elvis stood over you, his brow raised, but there was a softness in his expression though it didn’t hide the authority in his voice.

“Sugar, it’s late. Time for bed.”

Your heart raced.He wanted you gone. but you frowned, not wanting to lose your chance.

“I’m not tired” you lied, sitting up straighter.

Elvis chuckled under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Honey, you’re fallin’ asleep at the table.”

You clenched your fists, your chest tightening. “I wanna stay… with Jerry.” You lied again.

Jerry expression went blank. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, uncomfortable with the growing tension.

Elvis’s easy smile faltered for a moment. He exchanged a glance with Jerry. A silent conversation passing between them.

But then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Suit yourself, darlin’…”

And just like that, he walked away, back to his spot on the couch, where the women were still waiting for him, their hands reaching out the moment he sat down.

You watched him for a beat longer, your chest aching, before your eyelids grew too heavy again.

Minutes passed. Your limbs grew heavier, exhaustion creeping in. You stopped playing chess, and sit next to Jerry. Then, exhaustion won. Your body went heavy, your head tilting against Jerry’s arm.

Jerry tensed slightly, glancing down at you. Your breathing was slow, steady, your lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks. He exhaled through his nose, shifting just enough to let you rest more comfortably against him.

Jerry felt Elvis approach before he even heard him. He didn’t bother looking up, already knowing what was coming.

“I’ll take her” Elvis said flatly, his voice low but tight.

Jerry’s jaw clenched, his gaze still fixed on the chessboard. “It’s okay. I’ll take her,” he replied, his tone calm but firm.

But Elvis didn’t back down. “I said I’ll take her.”

Now Jerry finally looked up, meeting Elvis’s hard stare. “What the hell’s goin’ on, E? Why’re you so pissed?”

Elvis’s jaw flexed, his blue eyes sharp. “She’s my niece.”

Jerry scoffed, the bitterness in his voice clear. “Yeah? Now she is?”

Elvis’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t respond. His eyes flicked down to you, still asleep on Jerry’s shoulder.

Jerry hesitated, glancing down at you as well, peaceful, unaware of the storm above. He sighed deeply, realizing this wasn’t a fight worth dragging on.

“Fine” he muttered under his breath, but his glare didn’t soften. Gently, he lifted you from his shoulder and passed you into Elvis’s arms.

Before letting go, Jerry spoke quietly, his words like a punch to the gut.

“She didn’t wanna leave because she thought maybe you’d give a damn.”

Elvis didn’t respond, but the weight of Jerry’s words landed hard. He cradled you gently against his chest, his grip tighter than before, and turned toward the stairs.

——————

It was 5 a.m. The only sound in Elvis’s room was his labored breathing. He was kneeling on the mattress, his soft length in hand, stroking it furiously as his balls bounced in a desperate rhythm. Sweat dripped down his temples, his chest rising and falling with shaky, heavy breaths. His jaw was clenched tight, face fixed on the ceiling, brow furrowed with closed eyes, forcing himself to focus, to stay present.

Come on. Goddammit.

But no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept slipping away… to the other room, to you.

He had left you in your room not long ago, and finally, for a moment, he had been able to look at your face, sleeping peacefully after the long, strange night. Your lips slightly parted, your chest rising and falling with each soft breath. You looked so innocent… so safe.

He had wanted to stay there longer, just watching you sleep, but he couldn’t. It would’ve been suspicious, especially if they were waiting for him in the Den. Someone was always waiting. So, he forced himself to walk away.

But what really haunted him, what twisted deep inside, was what had happened before.

Seeing you curled up asleep in Jerry’s arms, your head resting on his shoulder, like he was the one you trusted the most… that stirred something dark within him.

“What’s happening to me?” he asked himself, his throat tightening.

Then Jerry’s words echoed in his mind, sharp and cruel:

“She didn’t wanna leave because she thought maybe you’d give a damn.”

The guilt gnawed at him. He had been avoiding you on purpose. Convincing himself it was for the best. That putting distance between you was what you needed.

He wasn’t a good influence. And deep down, he knew none of this was right.

In front of him, two naked women lay on the bed, watching him with hungry eyes. One of them, the blonde one giggled, cutting through the suffocating silence.

“You’ve been at that forever, baby,” she murmured as she slid closer, her nails dragging down his sweaty back.“I can help you.”

The brunette stretched lazily over the pillows, a mocking smile on her face as she watched him.

“I think someone’s distracted,” she teased.“Thinking about something… or someone.”

Elvis’s shoulders tensed, his lips pressed into a thin line.

The brunette’s grin widened, sensing his discomfort.

“I talked to your niece earlier. She’s so sweet. All shy, all innocent, but you could tell… she was dying for a little attention.”

Elvis opened his eyes and glanced at them, letting the blonde continue running her hands over his body, her lips brushing his neck.

The brunette’s grin widened, sensing the tension. “I thought she was drooling over you at first, but then I saw her with Jerry. The way she was leaning into him? Practically in his lap. Bet she was wondering what it would feel like to have him touch her. Maybe hoping he’d slide his hands up that little dress.”

Elvis’s breath hitched, guilt flaring into something hotter, rage.

But the brunette leaned forward, her smirk sharp as a knife. “I bet she was wet for him. Sitting there, pretending to play innocent, but hoping Jerry would just lose control. You think he thought about it? What it would be like to spread her open, right there on the couch? I bet he did.”

That was it.

Elvis’s body tensed like a spring ready to snap. But instead of shouting, he took a sharp breath, forcing his voice to stay even, but cold.

“Alright now, ladies,” he drawled, his voice low but firm. “I think it’s time y’all got goin’”

The two women blinked, clearly not expecting that. The brunette, however, chuckled, pushing further. “Oh, come on, Elvis. Don’t tell me you’re upset. I’m just having some fun.”

He turned then, his blue eyes sharp but calm, though the rage was bubbling beneath the surface. “Ain’t nothin’ funny ‘bout that. Not one bit.”

The room grew tense, but he held his composure.

“Get dressed” he added, his voice still soft, but his jaw clenched so tightly it was a miracle the words came out at all.

The brunette narrowed her eyes but stood, grabbing her clothes, her movements sharp. “Guess we hit a nerve,” she muttered under her breath.

Elvis didn’t respond, didn’t even look at them as they gathered their things. But when they reached the door, the brunette hesitated, throwing him one last glance.

“You’ll break, Elvis,” she taunted. “You will.”

The door slammed behind them, the sound echoing through the now suffocatingly empty room.

Elvis stood there, breathing hard, sweat pouring down his face, his hands shaking uncontrollably. The silence pressed in on him, heavier than ever.

He staggered back and collapsed onto the bed, naked and raw, sweat slicking his skin as he lay there, fists clenched in his damp black hair. His heart was pounding out of control.

A bitter, hollow laugh escaped his throat before he muttered, voice rough and low,

“‘Course I fuckin’ gave a damn.”

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @iloveelvisss ❤️

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heart-of-ep · 18 hours ago

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Elvis: Through Her Lens (Chapter Three)

(Elvis Presley × OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley

Read More Here: Elvis: Through Her Lens (coming soon)

Prompt: You are Minnie Jones, an aspiring photographer working for the LA Sentinel. Your chief editor is looking for a story that will help boost the popularity of the paper, so an opportunity comes knocking when Colonel Tom Parker approaches him with a new 'snowjob.' After a tentative first meeting with the Colonel, and his star Elvis Presley, you are hired on to follow Elvis around as his personal photographer in an attempt to catch lightening in a bottle twice with the earlier success of the Alfred Wertheimer photos. Along the way, you develop a close bond with Elvis, leading to complications in your relationship when the issues of his marriage and eventual drug usage start to put a strain on your relationship. Constantly fighting your ever-growing feelings for him, you are swept up into the whirlwind of Elvis' world which forces you to see the King of Rock 'n' Roll through a new lens.

Tags: Slow burn. Angst. Drama. Friends to lovers (sort of).

TW: None. Cussing?

Rating: PG-13 (ish) (may get spicy but won't be explicit as I don't enjoy writing smut lol but cursing, possible violence, and infidelity will appear throughout the story)

Word Count: 5.6k

Author's Note: Alright yall, things are starting to kick off with this chapter, and I'm very excited about it. It's quite a bit longer than the previous two chapters so I hope you enjoy!

I have to say, I had a blast researching the Houston Astrodome cause 1970 is a major hyperfixation for me, and I actually learned a lot while looking up all the info for this chapter (and the next 👀) so I'm just gonna be living vicariously through Minnie. 🤭

I apologize in advance for the slow burn nature of this fic, but I promise things will get spicy/angsty soon! ♡

Elvis at the Houston Airport for a press conference on February 25th, 1970.

After reviewing the contract with you, and making sure you were absolutely sure that you still wanted to do it, Pierce had you sign it, hesitating to sign it himself. He was more than a little skeptical of Colonel Tom Parker, which you couldn’t necessarily blame him for. You did your best to reassure him once the two of you left the Hillcrest home.

“Don’t worry, Pierce. The Colonel might be a bit…strange, but Elvis seems interested in the project.” You told him as he drove you back to the office to collect your camera and film before heading home to pack.

“I just can’t put my finger on it, Minn. He just rubs me the wrong way.” Pierce frowned before sighing. “But I suppose Elvis seems nice enough. Though, I wouldn’t fall for his charm. He’s had a fair few scandals involving women he works with.” He pointed out.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not worried about Elvis Presley seducing me. For one, he’s married.” You reminded him.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s stopped people in the past.” He said sarcastically.

“Pierce, I’ll be fine. I’ve been around my fair share of charming men, it doesn’t mean I’ll fall for it.” You said, though you secretly knew that Elvis was very different from any other man you’d ever met.

Different and very beautiful.

You shoved the intrusive thought from your mind, refusing to let yourself get hung up on how good looking he was. You weren’t about to be one of many other women who fell for the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. After all, you were there to do a job, and you weren’t going to get distracted along the way.

Once you collected your things from the office, you quickly drove back to your apartment to get your clothes packed. Elvis would be in Houston for at least a week for the Astrodome shows and any of its corresponding press conferences, so you needed to figure out everything to take. And you weren’t familiar with Houston weather which presented a problem of its own. After a while of debating what to bring, you decided to call up your girlfriend, Vivien to get her advice, and quite frankly you just needed someone to talk to about all of this.

“Elvis Presley?!” Vivien practically squealed, causing you to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Yes, Elvis Presley.” You said, rolling your eyes as you lifted your suitcase up onto your bed.

“Wait, hold on, Minn. You can’t be serious. I mean, you’re kidding, right?” She asked, sounding skeptical now instead of excited.

You frowned a bit. “Why would I be lying, Viv? Look, it's not a big deal.” You paused for a moment. “Well, it is sort of a big deal, but it’s just a job. A very exciting job, but a job nonetheless.” You explained.

“Just a job? Minn, are you sure you’re not high right now?”

“Very funny.” You rolled your eyes again. “I know it’s a lot, and I am excited, but I have to keep a leveled head about all of this. I don’t think Elvis wants another screaming girl bothering him.” You pointed out.

“Hm…I suppose you’re right, but this is still a huge deal! God, do you know how much I’ve dreamed about meeting Elvis?” She groaned. “Tell me, does he look just as good in person?” She asked curiously.

You hesitated for a moment, thinking back to those beautiful blue eyes of his, his soft pouty lips, and that full spirited laugh that made you feel warm inside…you quickly snapped out of your daze before the thought could go any further. “I uh…I didn’t really notice.” You mumbled.

“Sure you didn’t.” You could just hear the smile on her lips.

You sighed. “Can we focus? I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear. Business or casual?”

“Well, you’re not exactly going into the office.” She pointed out. “Besides, you’ll be traveling with Elvis Presley. You have to pack in style.”

You wanted to tell her that it was silly to dress to specifically impress Elvis, but you figured everyone in his company (especially the women) dressed to fit in with his style. You recalled seeing a few photos of Elvis with Priscilla in the paper and remembered how pretty and stylish she looked. But you quickly reminded yourself that you were working as his photographer, nothing else.

“So when are you leaving?” Vivien asked as you pulled out a coat from your closet, the only coat you owned, and folded it up neatly into your suitcase.

“Tomorrow.” You sighed. “Pierce is losing his shit, you know. He thinks this whole thing is going to end up exploding in our face because of that manager, Colonel Parker.” You shook your head as you sat down on the edge of your bed.

“Pierce always has a stick up his ass.” She reminded you. “Besides, you’ve done celebrity pieces before this. I can’t imagine this will be any different. That is unless you plan on sleeping with him.”

“Viv!” You shot back before shaking your head. “I’m starting to think that telling you about all of this was a bad idea.” You muttered.

“Oh, trust me it wasn’t a bad idea. And you’re going to keep me updated on all of this.” She said as a matter of fact.

You frowned a bit, but realized she was probably right. It’s not like you could talk to Pierce about any of it. You glanced at the clock, sighing when you noticed how late it was already. “Thanks, Viv. I’ll call you once I get settled in at the hotel.”

“Just try and have fun, Minn. I know it’s your job, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

You nodded a bit and smiled. “Yeah, I’ll try. I’ll talk to you later.” You said before hanging up the phone. You sighed and looked over at your suitcase before pushing yourself to finish packing the rest of your clothes, placing your extra packs of film on top.

You had no idea what to expect when you showed up at the airport tomorrow, but you knew it would be the beginning of something new and exciting.

~*~*~

When you showed up at LAX in the morning, after Pierce picked you up from your apartment, you could hardly contain your excitement. “Just think about it, Pierce. We’re going to have photos that no other paper in the world will have. The LA Sentinel will practically fly off the shelves.” You grinned.

“It better, or there won’t be an LA Sentinel.” Pierce muttered. “Just keep your head on straight. And don’t let this Presley fellow distract you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Pierce, you act like I’m just going to bend over the moment I see him.” You shot back. “Elvis Presley might be the world’s biggest flirt, but all I care about is getting the perfect picture.”

“I suppose. I guess if any woman can reject his advances it would be you.” He smirked a bit.

You slapped his arm playfully, smiling again as he parked the car on the private hanger that the Colonel had directed you to meet them at. You were surprised to find out that Elvis didn’t have a private jet, even Frank SInatra had that, but that didn’t stop him from being able to borrow one to fly him and his whole crew to whatever city he needed them in. You looked up at the jet as you stepped out of the car, ignoring the general nerves that attacked you every time you had to fly somewhere, and instead focused on the excitement of the whole situation.

You immediately noticed a couple cars already parked and waiting around the jet, a handful of men that you assumed worked for Elvis standing around waiting for him to arrive while someone loaded the luggage onto the plane. Pierce pulled your suitcase out of the trunk and walked with you over to the group, his gaze immediately searching for any sign of Elvis or the Colonel.

“I don’t think it would be such a bad thing if that Colonel got left behind.” Pierce muttered, and you jabbed him in the ribs, an amused smile crossing your face. You almost wished he was tagging along so you wouldn’t be going completely solo, but you knew you didn’t have much choice. The chief editor couldn’t exactly leave the office for a week. “Looks like Presley has six shows lined up in Houston, so you’re going to be pretty busy, Minn. Remember, we need to get photos that no one else will have.” He reminded me.

You nodded. “I know. Don’t worry, I won’t let you down.” You smiled confidently.

He nodded and cracked a small smile. “I know you won’t.” He said before clapping me on the shoulder. “Keep your head on straight. Remember, a reporter trusts no one.” You nodded, though you didn’t exactly take that too close to heart. Unlike an official reporter, a photographer was meant to get close to their subject.

You turned your gaze away from Pierce and surveyed the group of men, immediately recognizing a couple of them from Elvis’ house. Charlie, the shorter fellow, was standing around laughing and talking with the other guys and standing close to one of the Cadillacs was an aging gentleman with grey hair and a small mustache. You didn’t recall seeing him at the house, nor did he seem to fit in with the other guys, which struck you as curious.

You only looked away when you heard a car pulling up behind you, glancing back to see the white Cadillac from yesterday coming to a stop. You immediately felt your heart leap in your chest (for some inexplicable reason) and quickly stood up a bit straighter as you clutched the handle of your suitcase. After a moment, the door to the car opened and first stepped out the Colonel, much to Pierce’s dismay, and then the other door opened and out stepped Elvis, glowing and smiling just as he had the day before.

The first thing you noticed was his attire, as it was incredibly different from what he had on the first time you met him. Unlike before, this outfit was anything but casual, and it much more accurately represented the stylish and over the top nature of Elvis’ more recent wardrobe from the International. He wore an all white, karate gi inspired ensemble, with a bright red ruched shirt underneath and around his neck, much like his stage wear, he wore a printed scarf that hid his exposed chest underneath. A karate style belt hung low around his waist, tied at his hip in a knot, pulling the whole outfit together with the clear inspiration. It was really unlike anything you had seen someone wear before, but you resisted the urge to snap a photo too quickly.

When you looked up at Elvis, you noticed he looked a bit more tired than he had yesterday, dark circles under his eyes and a bit of sweat on his brow. You casted him a concerned look, but he smiled through how unwell he seemed and walked over to where you were standing. “Hey, Minnie Mouse.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hello, Elvis.” You said as you shook his outstretched hand before looking at the Colonel as he hobbled up behind him, one of those comical cigars sticking out of his mouth as he approached Mr Pierce to discuss something with him in private. When you looked back at Elvis, he was still staring at you, sending a shiver running down your back. “Um…I’ve never been to Houston before.” You said in an attempt to break the ice.

“I’ve been all over Texas.” He said as he directed me toward the stairs leading up into the plane where the rest of his group was waiting. “I think you’ll like it.” He reassured me.

You glanced back at Pierce, catching his gaze for a moment before you looked forward and smiled as Elvis began introducing you to the different guys. “This is Minnie Jones. She’s a photographer that’s going to be accompanying us on the trip to Houston.” He explained before gesturing to the men. “You met Charlie already at the house. This is Red and Sonny, they work as my bodyguards. Joe, he’s my road manager. Gee Gee, Jerry, and Cliff, they help keep everything running smoothly. And this is Lamar, he’s my lighting technician and a general pain in my ass.” Elvis said, laughing a bit at his own joke, though Lamar didn’t necessarily seem amused. “And this is my father.” He added as he gestured at the older man you had noticed earlier. Now that they were standing next to each other, they looked very similar.

You awkwardly waved hello, doing your best not to seem completely out of place. “I know all of you are probably used to a bit more privacy, but just pretend I’m not even here. That’s what most politicians do before I snap a real embarrassing photo.” You said jokingly.

Elvis laughed out loud, and soon the guys were laughing too (something you noted as interesting) before he just looked at you and smiled. “She’s funny isn't she? Don’t worry, Minnie Mouse. You’ll fit right in.”

You felt a little more at ease, nodding as you followed Elvis up the steps onto the plane, the guys following behind as they carried yours and the rest of his luggage on board. Elvis moved along to his seat towards the back of the plane, and quickly made sure to keep up, clutching tightly onto the strap of your camera bag.

“Have you flown before, honey?” Elvis suddenly asked as he leaned his hand against the carry-on cubbies overhead, looking down at you curiously.

You nodded a bit and looked away, unable to meet his piercing blue gaze. “A few times, yeah. Though it doesn’t really get any less scary.” You admitted before opening your camera bag. “You don’t mind, do you?” You asked, trying to be courteous regardless of why you were there.

He smirked a bit. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He teased you before he slipped down into his chair, crossing his leg over the other as he looked out the window.

You watched him for a moment as he leaned on his elbow, chewing on his fingernails as his leg bounced up and down in what seemed to be a nervous tick. You checked to make sure there was film in your camera before raising the lens to snap a photo, smiling a bit at just how human he looked. “Does everyone know that the king of rock ‘n’ roll bites his nails?” You asked as you sat down next to him.

He snorted, turning his gaze back toward you. “There’s a lot of things people don’t know about me.” He said vaguely.

You raised an eyebrow at him before sighing. “I bite my nails, too.” You said after a moment. “Bad habit I’ve had since I was a kid.” You shrugged as you showed him your nails.

He viewed your hand, chuckling a bit before he held out his own hand. “I guess we have at least one thing in common, Minnie Mouse.” He smirked a bit.

You smiled, already feeling less nervous. Something about being so close to him just made the unease inside of you disappear. You raised your camera again, snapping another photo of just his hand before you took the opportunity to look at the rings that decorated his fingers. A beautiful golden ring sat over his pinky finger, engraved with an intricate embossing and set with a glimmering black sapphire gem while another gold ring in the shape of a lion head sat next to it on his other finger. Dangling across his wrist hung an ID bracelet (once more in gold) with his name encrusted in diamonds along the band, somehow looking perfectly sensible on him and not at all gaudy.

You looked away when you suddenly felt the plane start to move, your nerves instantly returning as you grabbed hold of the arm rest instinctively. You chewed on your lower lip as you sunk back into your seat, but then you felt something warm settle over your hand. You looked down, swallowing a bit when you saw Elvis’ hand now resting softly over yours, the cold metal of his rings grazing over the top of your fingers.

“It’s okay, honey. As long as I’m here, nothin’ bad will happen.” He said, and from the look in his eyes, you believed him. You believed he could somehow control the weather and ensure a safe flight all the way to Houston. You ignored the flutter in your chest and the way his touch sent electricity running up your arm, and instead just focused on the warmth of his hand as the plane took off, suddenly feeling a lot less terrified.

The rest of the flight ended up being rather uneventful, and once you were up in the air, Elvis had let go of your hand and went to chat with the other guys about the upcoming shows and the press conference planned for later that day. You were glad for the space, unsure of how to feel about the weird feeling he had left you with, and focused on snapping some photos from your seat. It surprised you to see how relaxed he seemed, even with a camera around. You assumed he was probably used to it by now.

When you arrived in Houston, you could practically see the excitement radiating off of Elvis as he found his way back to his seat. “You alright, honey?” He asked as the pilot started to descend for landing.

You nodded, thankful for his presence next to you as you rested your hands on the arm rests. “What about you? This is your first time performing outside of Vegas isn’t it?”

He sighed, glancing out the window at the city below. “Yeah, it is.” He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure what to expect.” He admitted. “What if nobody shows up? Vegas is a helluva lot different.”

“You’re Elvis Presley. People will show up.” You said as a matter of fact. “Besides, I’m pretty excited to see what you’ve got up your sleeve.” You teased him.

He relaxed a little, smiling as he looked at you. “Thank you, Minnie Mouse.” He said before once again holding your hand as the plane hit a few bumps in the air.

Once the plane finally landed, you were happy to have your feet firmly on the ground and breathing some fresh air that didn’t smell of Elvis’ musky cologne, which you definitely didn’t notice while sitting with him. You followed him down onto the tarmac, and from a distance you could see a large group of fans that had already gathered nearby at the small terminal in an attempt to see Elvis up close and personal.

“I thought we were going somewhere, man.” He said with a grin as he waved at them before his bodyguards led him toward the airport terminal with his father, Vernon, and the Colonel following closely behind.

Waiting inside the airport were several reporters and photographers from different news outlets where a press conference was set up. You stood off to the side, watching as Elvis sat down at a table to answer their questions. He did it with ease, and it quickly dawned on you how natural he was at speaking, despite his stutter and the nervous way that he coughed and joked through some of his responses. It was charming and instantly made him feel a lot more personable.

Once he finished, he snapped a few photos with the Mayor who had come to welcome him to Houston before he was whisked off to a car waiting out front to take him to the hotel. The Colonel and Vernon accompanied the two of you with one of the guys driving while the rest took a separate vehicle. On the ride there, you tried not to pay attention to the way the Colonel seemed to be watching you like a hawk, squirming a little in your seat at the heavy air that hung in the car. During the flight you noticed just how little Elvis seemed to talk to his manager. Whenever you overheard a conversation between them, it was always about business, and even now, Elvis made no attempt to start a conversation.

Needless to say, you were thankful when you were finally able to check-in at the hotel, already exhausted from the day of travel. Elvis made sure everyone got a room a floor down from his penthouse suite to make things easier, but when you took your hotel key and started walking toward the elevator, you felt Elvis’ hand around your wrist.

“Wait up, Minnie Mouse.” He directed his smile down at you as he flicked his wrist at Charlie. “Charlie, take her luggage up to her room.” He said, his gaze fixated on you. “It ain’t too late yet. Why don’t you come up to my room?”

You swallowed, the invitation feeling far too intimate, even if you logically knew it didn’t mean anything. For some reason, though, the look in his eyes sent a shiver down your back, his fingers still softly gripping your wrist as he waited for a response.

“Well, honey?” He asked softly.

Damn it, Minn. Just say no.

You stared at him for a long moment. “Sure.” You heard yourself say, barely even recognizing your own voice.

Jesus Christ, this is a huge mistake.

You weren’t entirely sure what had come over you, or why you decided to say yes, but before you could even process what was happening, you were standing in the middle of Elvis’ lavish suite while he sent one of his guys to grab the two of you dinner from downstairs. You didn’t hear what he ordered, but right now you couldn’t exactly focus on anything, least of all food. You folded your arms across your chest, chewing on your nails as you instantly thought of everything that could possibly go wrong.

Calm down. He’s just having dinner with you.

Logic told you that you were probably right, but you weren’t about to forget who it was that had invited you upstairs for dinner. You remembered what Pierce had said about his reputation, causing you to pace a little as you waited near the sofa. He was probably just being courteous, and knowing Elvis, he couldn’t exactly go downstairs and have dinner in public without causing a commotion. But the lack of anyone else being present in his suite made you worry that this was just his way of trying to make a move on you, his marriage be damned.

You glanced across the room, watching as Charlie left the room to go pick up the food before Elvis shut the door behind him. In that moment, you resolved to keep your chin up and not allow his charm to instantly disarm you.

He’s just a man. A very beautiful and charming man, but just a man.

When he turned your way and walked over, his long strides closed the space between you in seconds, leaving you a bit flustered when he suddenly stopped in front of you. “You can sit down if you want, honey.” He said, gesturing to the sofa.

You glanced at the lush piece of furniture and simply shook your head. “I’m okay. I’m still a bit stiff from the flight.” You said as you folded your arms. “What did you order?” You asked after a moment.

He smiled. “Steak. It seems to be the only good thing they’ve got on the menu.” He said before sinking down onto the sofa and crossing his leg over the other. “You seem nervous, honey.” He noted, looking me up and down with one sweep of those brilliant blue eyes.

You frowned a bit. “Well, a married man invited me up to his suite for dinner, alone. Most women might be a bit nervous.” You pointed out.

His expression shifted a little. “Miss Jones…I-I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” He said, suddenly the southern gentleman you had met a couple days prior. “It’s not exactly easy for me to find privacy outside of my room. I just thought this would give us an opportunity to talk a bit more.” He explained.

You felt yourself blush a little out of embarrassment, realizing you had definitely miscalculated his intentions. “Oh…I’m sorry, Elvis. I just thought…” You trailed off, quickly shaking your head before you decided to sit down next to him on the sofa. “I guess I’m not used to men having manners.” You smirked a bit.

He chuckled, glad to see you relax a little. “You’re a smart girl, Minnie Mouse.”

You smiled a little. “You must be excited.” You said, deciding to change the subject. “Everyone seemed pretty amped up at the press conference.”

He nodded. “This is the make or break moment, honey. If these shows fail…” He whistled as he made a downward motion with his hand. “Fourteen years shot to hell.”

You furrowed your brow a bit. “Why do you think they’d fail?” You hadn’t seen Elvis perform live, but you also knew that he was an absolute powerhouse. After all, this man was able to captivate audiences all over America for more than a decade through the silver screen. And the NBC TV Special was a raving success. You remembered Vivien forcing you to sit down and watch it with her when it aired. Needless to say, you couldn’t picture him failing at anything.

You watched his brow furrow a bit, as if he was contemplating what to say. “What if I just can’t bring it in like I used to?” He finally said, shaking his head as his leg started to bounce up and down in that little nervous tick of his. “There’s a lot of folks out there listenin’ to all kinds of music now. What if I just can’t shake it anymore?” He looked at you, surprising you a little with the vulnerability in his eyes.

You bit your lip for a second before sighing as you reached over and touched his hand. “Elvis, I can’t sit here and tell you what will happen, but I do know that you’re one of the most loved and adored stars in the world. I mean, my best friend just about fainted when I told her I was going to be working with you.” You smiled at him. “Trust me, you can still bring it in. Besides, I know I’m pretty excited to see my first Elvis Presley show.”

He seemed to relax a little, a boyish smile crossing his lips. “I’ll make sure I give you one hell of a performance.” He winked.

You laughed a little before looking over your shoulder when you heard a knock at the door followed by Charlie walking in. “That must be the food.”

“Better be a damn good steak. I’m starvin’.” He grinned before getting up and walking over to see the food that had been brought back.

Once we had our food and gotten the chance to eat, the rest of the night went by like a blur. You found yourself talking to him about the most mundane things, whether it be your frustration of being stuck taking photos of politicians, or the fact that living alone in LA definitely wasn’t all it cracked up to be. He listened to everything you had to say, his focus solely on you the entire time. You couldn’t recall ever having a man give you so much attention, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered. It left you with this strange feeling that you didn’t really want to acknowledge yet.

Elvis also opened up about his life, giving you the background of how he started out in Tupelo and then moved to Memphis as a teen before eventually beginning his rise to fame at Sun Studios. The way he recounted it felt like he was explaining something that had just happened yesterday, and he really seemed proud over his earlier success during the fifties. It was only when he began talking about his movies that his tone soured. He didn’t completely dismiss them, admitting that even his movies had fans, but he knew that he was capable of doing more. He wanted to do more. But he didn’t linger on the topic, deciding once again to speak about something he was proud of as he brought up his success with the NBC TV Special and his debut in Las Vegas.

“I missed the contact with a live audience.” He explained. “The electricity you get from performing in front of an audience…it’s like nothin’ else.” He said as he sat back against the cushions of the sofa.

You smiled as you curled up on the other end of the sofa, folding your knees up against your chest as you watched him. There was a glimmer of excitement that twinkled in his eyes whenever he talked about his music or performing. You could tell he loved it, and you knew he just wanted to give his fans the best that he had. It was so earnest and so real, something you hadn’t really experienced with any other celebrity that you had met.

“Well, I have a feeling you’ll blow their socks off.” You teased him before reaching over and grabbing your camera off the table. You raised the lens, snapping a photo of that little smile on his lips before he made a funny face for the camera and you snapped a photo of that too. “I think that one is worthy of the front page.” You giggled.

“Nah, honey, second page at best.” He smirked, but the smile slowly fell from his lips and he regarded you with a long look that took you off guard. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

You bit your lip before nodding. “Of course.” You sat up a little straighter.

He looked you up and down, his blue eyes surveying you carefully as he leaned his cheek against his fist, his other hand drumming its fingers against his knee. “You said you weren’t really a fan before, so why did ya take the job? Ain’t a photographer supposed to feel passionate about their subject?” He asked curiously.

His question struck you as odd, but you figured he probably did have a point. And the more you thought about it, you weren’t sure why you had been so drawn toward saying yes. Aside from the obvious reason for progressing your career, you had never really thought much about Elvis Presley prior to Pierce’s proposition. But something about him drew you in. You just knew that it wasn’t an opportunity that you could pass up.

You were silent for a long moment, and you could sense his growing impatience as his fingers started tapping faster against his leg. “I guess it just felt like the right thing to do.” You said quietly, looking down as you fiddled with your hands. “You changed the world, Elvis. I just figured it was time the world saw the real you, whatever that may be.” You shrugged.

Something flashed in his eyes, disappearing far too quickly for you to register what it was, before he laughed, running a hand through his hair as he looked away. “Damn, Minnie Mouse. Are ya sure you ain’t a poet or somethin’?”

You smiled as you relaxed a little. “I did ace English in high school.” You joked before you glanced at the clock and saw what time it was already. “Shit…it’s almost three in the morning!” You said as you quickly stood up. He looked up at you, clearly not seeing the issue in that. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed, or how inappropriate it was that you were alone with a married man for several hours in the middle of the night.

“You’re not leavin’ are you?” He asked as he stood up, taking a step toward you.

You bit your lip before sighing. “Elvis, it’s late. We’ve both had a long day.” You said in an attempt to reason with him.

He pressed his lips together, but he relented and took a step back. “You're comin’ to rehearsals tomorrow.” It wasn't a question. “Just make sure you're ready, honey.” He said before leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You blushed, your heart skipping a beat as the sensation of his soft lips sent a shiver racing down your spine. “Don't worry, I won't miss it for the world.” You said quietly as you looked up at him before quickly stepping past and walking to the door.

“Goodnight, Minnie Mouse.” You heard him call from behind you. You paused at the door, looking back at him for a moment and smiling a bit as you caught the boyish grin that flashed across his face.

“Goodnight, Elvis.”

You weren't entirely sure how you even made it back to your room, feeling so deliriously tired, but also so…happy. It was a strange feeling, and you didn't really want to acknowledge the reason why you were feeling that way. But as you fell asleep in your plush bed, all you could see in your dreams was the warm smile on his lips or his ocean blue eyes that were deep enough to swim in.

Yes, you were certainly delirious.

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

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