#austin butler 50s

[youaintnothinbuta]

Could you do an Elvis x reader where the reader likes another person that is sat at a table with them and she thinks she is playing footsie with said person but finds out it’s actually Elvis and they end up going out together instead of her and the other guy.

“I’ve been wantin’ to do that all night” — Elvis x reader

Summary: Out at dinner with some friends, Elvis manages to skew your attention away from the boy you were originally interested in, and he and you seperate from the group, going to catch a picture just the two of you :)

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: none, fluff!! There may be typos sorry in advance <3

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The small restaurant was alive with conversation, the clinking of silverware against plates, and the low hum of laughter that seemed to fill every corner of the room. You were seated at a round table, large enough to fit everyone comfortably but small enough to keep the group feeling close-knit. The soft glow from the overhead lights made everything feel warm and intimate, setting the mood nicely for a meal with friends.

You strategically sat yourself across from Danny, the boy you were a bit keen on. His sandy hair caught the light every time he turned his head. You’d noticed him before, casually, in the way that someone stands out in a crowd. You weren’t too familiar with him yet, nor many of the guys. As you sat across from him though, you couldn’t help but feel a subtle pull, your eyes finding his more than once as the night wore on. Your best girlfriend sat beside you, keeping you well entertained, but your focus kept drifting back to Danny, catching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

Seated directly beside Danny, was Elvis Presley—a name that was beginning to mean something to people outside of your little group. You’d heard him sing a few times, and he’d always been part of these gatherings, but you didn’t find him to be anything special. Or so you thought.

Finally, food was beginning to be brought out, and you felt a nudge against your foot under the table. It was subtle, barely there, but it caught your attention. You glanced up, and your eyes met Danny's for a brief moment. A small smile tugged at your lips as you assumed it was his way of testing the waters.

You responded in kind, nudging back, your foot brushing against his ankle. A little thrill ran through you—innocent, playful, nothing too serious, but enough to make your heart flutter a little.

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

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

Elvis.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Elvis?” you asked, breaking the silence.

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded shyly, “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled, nodding, too nervous to speak.

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

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

“Elvis…” you started.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Elvis,” you whispered back.

As you slipped inside your house, closing the door behind you, you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, not for the rest of the night.

[lustnhim]

save a horse ride a cowboy 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[presley4president]

HELLO!?

[ladelinee]

Summary: (𝘙𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥! ☺️) 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘌𝘭𝘷𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵�� 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

Word Count: 3𝘒

Warnings: 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

🩵 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 ��𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 🩵

You were on a beach in the Caribbean, the sun kissed your skin, turning it golden, and you felt the fine sand gently exfoliating the soles of your feet. You sighed, feeling peace and comfort. With a bit of trepidation, you walked towards the shore, unsure if the water would be too cold. As the waves broke and you approached, you felt the freshly wet sand and sensed that the temperature wasn’t too bad.

You started to slowly wade into the water, the waves dancing with you, letting your body be carried away. The water was crystal clear, and its blue hue was striking. It relaxed you so much that you lay back in the water and floated, your body undulating, the waves massaging you. You found peace in that sensation and closed your eyes.

Suddenly, your body began to move more and more, the sea became a bit murky, and the blue sky above turned dark gray. The wind began to blow strongly, making the waves swallow you. You fought for your life, and when you surfaced, you found yourself among icebergs.

At that moment, a distant but intense voice imposed itself on the scene.

"Damn it!"

You looked around but couldn’t find anyone. Your anxiety levels began to rise as you noticed the water temperature dropping drastically.

With a sudden jolt, you woke up, your breathing rapid and heart racing. The room was bathed in a bluish dimness, with soft dawn light filtering through the window. Your vision was blurred, but you could see Elvis moving around the room, cursing quietly. When he realized you were awake, his eyes met yours.

“Hey, honey. Sorry��� I’ve just… uh…” Elvis spoke with a hint of nervousness in his voice, unsure of what to say or do. Suddenly, you felt him carefully pulling back the sheets, removing the hot water bottle that was meant to keep you warm. He looked at you with concern as he said, “Yeah, I’m just gonna change out the water real quick, okay darlin’?”

It suddenly dawned on you what was happening. The water in the hot water bottle had cooled, and it was causing your hands to ache again. As you tried to move the duvet a bit more, a sharp pain shot through your hands, and you thought to yourself “Oh no, not again…”

Since you were diagnosed with this condition, Elvis has been very attentive to you, sometimes too much. This condition wasn’t very serious but it certainly wasn’t comfortable. However, for Elvis, it felt like the end of the world.

This was going to be the first week you stayed at Graceland, at Elvis’ insistence, and everything was new to you.

The sound of Elvis' energetic footsteps against the carpet filled your ears, followed by the feeling of the mattress sinking on your right side. You knew he had sat down on the bed, and then the soft click of the lamp on his bedside table being turned on filled the room with a warm, gentle glow.

“All right, lemme see, darlin’” Elvis tenderly said as he searched for one of your hands. With the additional light, you could now see his face. His pitch-black hair was tousled, his usually bright blue eyes were partially closed and slightly squinted due to the sudden brightness of the lamp, and his eyes were puffy with dark circles underneath— signs that he hadn't gotten much sleep.

As Elvis gently held your hand, you could see the difference between your hand and his. Your fingers were white and had bluish tips, while his hand was perfectly tanned and much larger in comparison. The stark contrast was striking, highlighting the difference in your skin color.

“Oh, worse than I thought” Elvis said, inspecting each of your fingers held between his big hands. You could feel a significant temperature difference as soon as he touched you.

“Let’s forget about the hot water bottle for now,” Elvis said, setting it aside before getting back into bed. He positioned himself in front of you and pulled you closer. “Let’s remove that icy color and keep you warm. C’mere, darlin’” he said, opening the top of his robe and revealing his chest. With gentle hands, he took both of your cold hands and placed them against his warm chest. He then wrapped your hands back up in the robe, creating a snug cocoon of warmth around them.

You felt the rise and fall of his breathing, extremely comforting, his heartbeats were intense but steady. Gradually, your hands began to warm up with the contact of his skin.

“Rough night?” you asked amid the silence, seeing his puffy eyes while you waited for your hands to come back to normal.

Elvis curved his lips into a smile. “They ain’t never bad when you’re with me. In fact, I reckon I should be askin’ you that!” he replied.

You were well aware that Elvis suffered from insomnia, but his decision to stop taking his sleeping pills to ensure he could care for you in case something happened at night caused you to feel a bit guilty. It was a selfless gesture, showing how much he cared for your well-being, even at the cost of his own sleep.

But that was just the way Elvis was, or at least it would be until he adjusted to this new reality—or until he finished reading all the books he had requested his guys to buy for him about Raynaud’s phenomenon. Lately, you had seen him very worried and nervous, wanting to protect you but not sure how. For now, anyway, this was how things would remain until further notice.

"How are you feeling, baby?” Elvis asked, breaking the silence and gently covering the area where he had tucked your hands inside his robe. His voice was filled with tenderness and worry as he asked, searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

"It's going numb” you replied, describing the uncomfortable feeling. Although it wasn’t pleasant to feel that way, you felt a sense of relief knowing that this was usually the final stage. Soon, your fingers would regain their normal feeling.

Elvis looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you despite the concern that flickered across his own face. “Mmm, let’s have a look,” he said in a more cheerful tone, carefully taking one of your hands from his chest. As he intently studied your fingers, you noticed the tips gradually changing color, becoming red as the blood circulation slowly returned. However, the burning sensation was undeniable.

A variety of emotions swirled within you. On one hand, you felt an immense sense of protection when Elvis took care of you, yet on the other, you were reluctant to trouble him with these issues. You knew his busy agenda, and arguing with him was futile, as he would always prioritize your well-being over his commitments.

With a soft sigh escaping through his nostrils, Elvis carefully studied your expression and could instantly sense what was going through your mind. Then, with tenderness, he started kissing each of your fingers, his soft lips gently touching your skin. Gradually, the warmth of his breath and the affectionate contact with his lips helped your fingers regain their normal feeling, providing a soothing sensation as they slowly returned to their normal state.

You let out a satisfied hum, feeling a gradual wave of relief wash over you as a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Elvis stopped kissing your fingers and looked at you, with a smile on his face.

"I take it that means it's better" he said, his expression filled with warmth.

"Yes, much better. Thank you," you said, expressing your gratitude with a smile of your own.

"Now, darlin’, be sure to keep the hot water bottle close” Elvis suggested, carefully placing the bottle between your body and his. Once the bottle was securely in place, he gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a soothing embrace. "I'll take care of ya" he mumbled, his voice firm and reassuring. "Go back to sleep, I’ve got ya."

“Hmm, I don't think I’ll be able to fall asleep again” you said, looking at the window where the first rays of the morning sun were shining through.

Elvis chuckled, continuing to trace comforting circles on your back as he lifted his head to look at your face, which was nestled against his chest.

“I ain’t feelin’ sleepy either, to be honest” he admitted, a small smile playing on his lips. “How ’bout we have a big breakfast?”

Your stomach rumbled in agreement, the thought of food already eliciting a satisfied response.

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, your voice filled with excitement.

Elvis then twisted his torso, stretching his arm towards the edge of the bed. With his free hand, he carefully picked up the golden phone on the nightstand. The cold metal felt smooth against his fingers as he expertly pressed the buttons on the phone, dialing the number he needed.

He brought the phone to his ear, waiting for a response, his gaze still fixed on you while he continued to trace soothing circles on your back.

“Mary? Hey, good mornin’, honey. We woke up a bit earlier than usual. No, no, just a few little hiccups, ya know.” Elvis chuckled, listening to what Mary, his maid, was saying. “Could you make us breakfast? Thanks, sweetheart. See ya downstairs,” he concluded, smiling as he hung up the phone.

Elvis smiled down at you, gently kissing your forehead.

“All right, it’s time to get ya ready,” he stated confidently, well aware of what was about to happen.

You tried to reassure him, replying, “Elvis, it's gonna be too much, I’ll be fine.”

But he wouldn’t hear of it. With a tender smile, he responded “When it comes to you, there’s no such thing as ‘too much.’"

He got out of bed and continued, his voice filled with sincerity. “My mama taught me to take care of the people I love, and you are a true treasure to me, little one”

You felt a warm blush creep up your cheeks, a smile playing on your lips as you shook your head. You slid a pair of thick, soft socks onto your feet and slipped into Elvis' oversized slippers, the familiar warmth enveloping your toes.

Elvis always had a knack for persuading you, no matter the situation. He watched you, with affection and amusement, as you clumsily maneuvered across the room in his enormous slippers.

Elvis walked over to the closet and selected one of his robes, carefully bringing it over to you. With a tender tone, he instructed, "Arms up!"

You obediently raised your arms, feeling the luxurious fabric envelope your body. As he secured the robe around you, you couldn’t help smiling when you notice the embroidered “EP” on the right side.

Next, Elvis reached for the mittens he had bought for you. They were pristine white, fluffy, and lined with soft fur inside, guaranteed to keep your hands warm and cozy.

“Elvis…” you said, holding out your arms so he could see what he was doing.

“What, darlin’?” Elvis asked with an innocent look. His eyes traveled up and down, scanning you. He burst out laughing when he saw you in the oversized slippers, robe, and mittens.

Elvis smirked enjoying your mood, as he gently touched the tip of your nose with his finger.

“I see what you mean, but trust me, you look adorable” he assured you, a hint of playful mockery in his tone.

You huffed in mock indignation, readjusting the loose robe draped over your body. "Oh, everyone's going to have a good laugh when I go downstairs like this" you declared, trying to sound annoyed despite the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

Elvis continued laughing, looking at your improvised outfit. “Come on, sweetheart, you need to stay warm. I promise I won’t let anyone laugh at ya, and if they do, I’ll take care of them myself.”

You sighed, knowing there was no way out of this without playing along. Elvis always had a way of making you feel good. “All right” you said, giving him a playful warning look.

“We sure as heck need to go shopping soon, but darlin’, with you all wrapped up in that loose robe, you look like a gift I’m just itchin’ to unwrap.” Elvis added in a playful tone before heading downstairs.

You walked down the stairs together, Elvis’ hand still firmly placed on your back. As you approached the last few steps, you sensed activity happening in the living room. From halfway down the stairs, you could see people already gathered in the room, their voices drifting up the stairs and reaching your ears.

Marty, one of Elvis' Memphis Mafia friends, greeted you both as you stepped into the living room.

Elvis, with a hint of surprise, turned to the others. "Mornin', y'all. I'm surprised to see y'all up and about so early. It's only 7:30 in the mornin'." he remarked, his eyebrow raised in mild confusion. He tightened his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as he spoke.

“We haven’t slept yet, and since we heard you were up, we stayed here” Marty replied. Next to Marty was Billy, who was laughing for some reason unknown to Elvis.

Elvis didn’t like this at all.

His voice grew colder, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. "Billy" Elvis said, reaching into the depths of his robe and pulling out a gleaming gun, "I’m gonna give ya 10 seconds to get the hell outta my sight before I turn that damn ass of yours into Swiss cheese." He pointed the gun towards the front door of Graceland.

Billy turned pale, his smile disappearing from his face as he slowly stood up, confused

“TEN! NINE..!” Elvis shouted, starting the countdown. His voice startled you.

You watched Billy run toward the front door, disappearing into the acres. Elvis followed him with slow steps, stopping at the lion statues at the entrance to see if Billy had managed to get out of his sight.

“THREE, TWO, ONE!!!” *bang* Elvis finished the countdown and fired into the sky, laughing heartily along with the guys who were watching through the window. He knew Billy would be terrified.

With a smirk, Elvis sauntered back into the house, returning to your side after his display outside. As he approached, he turned to you, a smug look on his face. "See, darlin’?" he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "I told ya I'd handle anybody who decided to laugh. Ain't sure if it was at you, but either way, I wasn't gonna take no chances."

You smiled, but you couldn't help but notice the odd feeling on your lips and the shiver that ran through your body. The cold air had made your lips turn a pale blue, and you were starting to feel colder by the minute.

Elvis’s expression shifted to one of concern. “Oh god, I’m sorry” Elvis apologized, thinking of a solution while hugging you. He then looked at the guys sitting on the sofa.

Elvis gave the guys a firm order, “Alright, everyone out!” The men, seeing what was happening, got up and left the room. Elvis turned back to you and led you to the sofa by the fireplace.

“Sit down, honey” he said, his voice gentle but worried as he helped you sit.

Struggling with the oversized robe wrapped around you, you finally managed to settle on the sofa. Elvis, always attentive, sat next to you, making sure everything was perfect.

A bit later, Mary, alerted by the guys, wheeled a small cart into the living room, turning it into a makeshift breakfast table.

As Elvis thanked Mary for her efforts, you were amazed at the spread: toast, pancakes, cereal, eggs… When you tried to pick up a fork, the mittens made it impossible.

“Elvis, I can’t eat like this,” you whispered, holding up your mittened hands for emphasis.

Elvis chuckled loudly after his brief conversation with Mary. “Looks like you’re at the mercy of a professional then. No complaints, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’re fed real good,” he teased, enjoying the opportunity to personally feed you.

You both burst into laughter as Elvis, with little success, tried to feed you a toast with jam, each bite turning into a comical situation. After a while, Elvis finally gave up and gently removed the mittens, setting them aside and handing you a hot cup of coffee so you could keep your hands warm.

As you sat enjoying breakfast with Elvis by the fireplace, a cozy and pleasant atmosphere enveloped the room.

Elvis glanced at your lips, noticing their color had improved slightly.

“Your lips look a bit better,” Elvis said, looking at you closely. “Let me take a closer look real quick to make sure they’re okay.”

Elvis leaned in with deliberate tenderness, closing the gap between you. His lips touched yours, soft and gentle, offering a warm comfort to your chilled lips.

As you neared the end of your breakfast, a part of you wished for the moment to never end. The warmth of the fire, Elvis' gentle presence, and the comfort of the situation felt almost magical.

Elvis, finishing his last few bites, washed them down before speaking up, his voice tinged with a hint of reluctance, "Well, we’ve got a meeting in two hours. Folks from Las Vegas are coming over."

You frowned at his words. “‘We?’ Elvis, we’ve been over this. I’d rather stay here” you replied.

“No, no, ya’re coming with me, darlin’” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “That way, I can keep an eye on ya.” As he spoke, he started massaging your hands, working to improve the circulation and warm them up.

You recalled how comfortable the trip from your house to Graceland had been. Elvis had arranged everything perfectly: the car’s heating was cranked up, there were blankets, a scarf, and hot water bottles ready. This journey to the meeting would be no different, yet you didn’t want Elvis to divert all his attention to you while dealing with business. You worried he might neglect his responsibilities, and that was something you couldn’t bear to forgive yourself for.

"Elvis, I’m staying here" you repeated, your voice firm. With a hint of reassurance, you added, "And I'm feeling genuinely good right now."

Elvis paused, his concern etched in his eyes as he asked, "Ya sure honey?" You nodded without hesitation.

He sighed, a hint of reluctance in his voice, “Alright” he said. “I’ll make sure the guys stay here with ya, and we’ll give Dr. Nick a call if anything comes up. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

You reassured him, your tone filled with confidence, "Don’t worry, I'll be right here."

Elvis then showered your face with soft, affectionate kisses, his arms encircling you protectively.

As he held you close, you whispered to him, "You know I love you, right?"

A warm smile tugged at the corners of Elvis' lips, his voice filled with tenderness, "And I love ya too, little one."

Tags: @elvispresleywife 🩵

[wanderingelvis]

🧚 WanderingElvis' Masterlist 🧚

Click here to be added to my taglist. Elvis Imagines 1. Elvis comforts innocent!reader (Requested)

2. Meeting Gladys & Graceland (Requested)

3. Elvis comforts innocent!reader, part 2 (Requested)

4. Elvis takes care of reader when she's on her period (Requested)

5. Elvis tries to fix readers wardrobe malfunction... and fails (Requested)

6. The Memphis Mafia starts questioning reader about sex until Elvis intervenes (Requested)

7. Elvis asks the local bookworm to the school dance (Requested)

8. Yandere!Elvis isolates and traps Naive!Reader in Vegas (Requested)

9. Sugar Daddy!Elvis takes Innocent!Reader shopping (Requested)

10. Elvis helps Innocent!Reader bake some cupcakes for the Mafia

11. Elvis manipulates Innocent!Reader into the ‘little’ lifestyle - part one

12. Innocent!Reader tries to prove to Elvis she's not as innocent as she seems but it backfires

13. ALTERNATIVE ENDING TO #12: Innocent!Reader falls into little headspace after her first orgasm from Elvis

14. Someone tries to take advantage of Innocent!Reader and Elvis doesn't let it slide

15. Shy!Reader meets Elvis at Graceland for the first time and when a storm happens and reader gets scared, there’s only one person awake to comfort her

16. Elvis takes care of Innocent!Reader with PTSD after she gets frightened

17. Little F!Reader gets sick so Elvis takes care of her

18. Elvis overstimulates Innocent!Reader at the movies

19. F!Reader gets mobbed after Elvis’ show and he becomes protective

20. Elvis teaches his naive, nymphomaniac girlfriend how to pleasure herself

Elvis Fanfictions

Sparkly Little Thing 🧚✨ | A Yandere!Elvis fic

Chapter One - The Party

Elvis Headcanons

CG!Elvis feeds Little F!Reader

2. CG!Elvis and Little F!Reader's bedtime routine

3. How Elvis treats Innocent F!Reader in public

4. 70s Elvis and his dumb, sweet, girlfriend

5. Elvis and reader who doesn't understand social cues

6. The Memphis Mafia's sinful feelings for Innocent!Reader

7. Elvis and the Memphis Mafia throw's Innocent!Reader a birthday party

8. How Elvis would treat you if you had a stutter

[burnthheparaphilia]

How big do you think Elvis’s dick is? Any proof/evidence lol

I think this gif will answer your question perfectly 😭

FIRST OF ALL, WHAT TYPE OF ANACONDA IS THAT???????.

(I would definetly say 8 inches long with 4 cm of width. I mean look at it, that thing is Alive 👀👀)

[ssinnerplazahotel]

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Five*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC:5k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation (kinda?), drug use, it’s the 50s/60s

Pairing: elvis, black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4

You woke up in Elvis’ arms, your throat dry and your limbs stiff as you shifted. It was past noon, making you late for work. You couldn’t bring yourself to jump out of bed, you were drained despite the twelve hours of sleep you’d gotten. You forced yourself out of bed, slipping out of Elvis’ embrace.

You looked down at his sleeping face, wondering what in your life led you to be there—in bed with Elvis after the worst argument the two of you ever had, watching him sleep as if he’d hung the stars and picked out the moon just for you.

“Satnin?” He spoke suddenly, startling you. You didn’t respond right away, thinking he was still asleep until he opened his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“I’m late.” You gathered your clothes from the ground before going into the bathroom to get ready. You stood in front of the mirror looking at your swollen eyes. Not even a touch of concealer could save you this time. On top of your appearance and how terrible you felt, you didn’t think you could get anything done around the house today. You left the bathroom and went to shake Elvis awake. “E?”

“Hm?” He hummed, you shook him another time. “What, birdie?”

“I don’t think I can work today,” You said. “I-I don’t feel good.”

“What’s wrong?” He shifted towards you, opening his eyes.

“I just don’t feel good,” You repeated. “I know I shouldn’t ask but…c-can I stay with you?”

He put his arm out for you. “C’mere.”

You dropped your clothes on the ground and climbed back into the bed, facing him as he covered you with the comforter. You felt conflicted about skipping work without talking to Dawn but you knew that Elvis would talk to her if she got upset.

Before you could fall back asleep the phone rang, startling you. Elvis didn’t react to the shrill ring of the telephone.

“Elvis?”

“Hm?”

“The phone’s ringing.”

“Mhm…”

You shook his shoulder. “Elvis, the phone.”

He opened his eyes then, he looked disoriented and annoyed as he sat up and reached for the phone, snatching it off the hook. “Hello?” You sat up with him, expecting it to be one of the guys calling him to go out with them. “Stay right there, baby,” He whispered as he got out of the bed. “Yeah…” He continued. “I can’t right this second, I’m gonna have to call you back.”

You tried not to listen in on the phone call but it was difficult not to.

“If I don’t call back tomorrow then call me again,” He said, his voice still laced with sleep. “…I said if I don’t, not that I wouldn’t.”

You laid back down in the bed, your back to him as he carried the phone and receiver with him as far as the cord would stretch away from where you were laying.

“I’ll call you back,” He said. “…I will…I do. I promise…you too.” He sighed and he hung up the phone, walking it back to the bedside table and setting it down.

You looked over your shoulder as he sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes and raking a hand through his disheveled hair. “Who was that?” You asked. “It sounded like they really needed to talk to you.”

“Nobody,” He said, keeping his back to you. “I have to go for a meeting with the Colonel. You think you’ll be okay here by yourself?”

You found his lack of response to your previous question to be a bit odd, but you tried not to dwell on it as you sat up to get dressed. Once you were standing you were reminded again of your pounding headache. “I’ll be fine.”

“Where’re you going?” He asked, finally turning his head in your direction.

“I should let you get ready for your meeting,” You said, pulling your pants up your legs. “Plus I have homework to do anyway.”

He nodded. “You’ll come back t’night?”

It sounded like a question but you knew that it wasn’t. “I have class, and I like to go to the diner across the street after.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, so I don’t know.”

His eyebrows scrunched but you ignored his expression and focused on buttoning your blouse. “Who’s going to this diner with you?”

“Nobody.” You slipped your shoes on and walked around the end of the bed to grab your bag, putting the books and pens that had fallen out back inside.

“I thought you said you were sick. Shouldn’t you take the day off?”

“I’ve gotten through worse than a headache in the past few days so I think I’ll manage.”

“Who’re you going to the diner with?”

“Elvis~”

“Don’t say ‘nobody.’” To your surprise he didn’t sound angry. “Tell me.”

You put your bag on your shoulder and faced him. “My friends.”

“What friends?”

“Barb and Pat, I met them in class. I told you that already.”

He nodded again, with a hum that you couldn’t interpret. “Barb and Pat won’t miss you too much will they?”

“I don’t see why they’d miss me at all, I’ll be sitting right there with them,” You said, turning to leave. “Good luck with the Colonel.”

You heard him chuckle shortly as you left the room, closing the door behind yourself without another word.

*

By the end of your classes that night you were starting to feel more like yourself again. Your body didn’t feel so heavy and the dull ache in your head had fully subsided.

Barb called out for you when you walked out of your last class, waving you over to where she stood with Pat and Kenneth. “Marshall and James are already at the diner.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stay late tonight,” You said as the four of you headed over. “I really have to finish that paper for Winslow, he’s been on me about it for days.”

“There are twenty four hours in a day,” Pat said, linking her arm through yours. “You’ll have time to write it.”

“Right,” Barb agreed from the other side of you. “Life isn’t all work and school. You gotta play sometimes.”

“Easy for you to say, Barb,” Kenneth spoke up. “You could do Winslow’s work with your eyes closed and your arms tied behind your back.”

“It’s not rocket science, Ken~”

“I can’t stay late. Tomorrow night maybe.”

“Fine.” Barb huffed. “But tomorrow, we’re going downtown.”

“Last time we went downtown I woke up with the worst headache,” You complained. “I’m not doing that again.”

“You can drive then,” Pat said, earning a laugh from the others as you all crossed the street and headed into the diner. You found your other friends and joined them in a large booth in the back of the diner.

You always enjoyed late nights at the diner, especially after a long day of work and school. It took your mind off of things and made you forget about what was troubling you. For a few hours each day you weren’t missing your mother, avoiding Dawn, or thinking about Elvis. It was fun, and you needed it.

As you were sitting there drinking your milkshake and watching the guys arm wrestle to see who would pick up the bill between the three of them, you heard a commotion in the nearly vacant diner.

“Oh my god!” Someone exclaimed, drawing your attention to a table across the diner.

“What?” James asked, looking over at the woman that exclaimed.

You followed her wide eyes, looking outside to try and get a look at what she was screaming about. You almost didn’t believe your eyes when you saw three very familiar Cadillacs parked outside, and getting out of one of those Cadillacs was—of course—Elvis. “Oh my god…” You muttered, tearing your eyes away from the scene outside to see the few other people in the diner standing and gawking as he walked in.

“Oh my god, is that…” Pat started, standing up slowly as well. “I-Is that Elvis Presley?”

“Sit down, Pat.” You pulled her back down into the booth, not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

“No way,” Marshall said, looking out of the window. “What the hell is he doing at a colored diner?”

“Maybe he’s lost,” Kenneth suggested.

“Don’t be stupid,” James said.

“You think he’d sign my planner?” Barb asked. “I shouldn’t ask.”

“Are you crazy?” Pat asked. “Of course you should ask. Come on, we all should.”

“No,” You said with widened eyes as she grabbed your arm. “Pat, no~” You tried to protest but you were ultimately pushed out of the booth, Pat tugging your arm and Barb pushed you along. You panicked as they got Elvis’ attention, watching his eyes find yours. He looked down with a knowing smile before walking over.

When he was nearer to you he said your name, his tone was familiar but it still sounded strange. “Honey, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” He lied, making Barb and Pat’s eyes stretch as they looked between the two of you.

“I could say the same.” You tried to smile and not look like your heart was seconds away from leaping out of your throat. “What brings you here?”

“Me and Doc go way back,” He said. “I like to surprise him every now and then.”

Pat shook your arm, giving you a question look and making you realize that her and Barb had no idea what was happening. “O-Oh, girls, well, I-I’m sure you know Elvis.”

“How are y’all?” Elvis smiled charmingly at them, putting on that smooth tone of voice that always made you melt.

“Elvis, I love just about all your songs,” Pat gushed. “I’ve bought all your records.”

“Me too,” Barb chimed in. “I think you’re just fantastic.”

“That’s awful nice of you girls, thank you.” He smiled timidly.

“Elvis is my boss,” You explained, glancing at your friends. “Elvis, this is Pat and Barb.” You pointed them out before gesturing to the guys that still sat at the table watching the interaction. “That’s Marshall, James, a-and Kenneth.”

“How’re y’all?” Elvis nodded at the guys politely.

“Alright,” James answered on behalf of the three of them.

“What brings you here, Elvis?” Pat asked, looking up at him with hearts in her eyes.

“He knows Doc, Pat, don’t you listen?” Barb said. “C-Can you sign this, Elvis? It’s for my sister, she adores you.”

“Sure.” He took the planner and scribbled his signature across the page, doing the same for Pat.

“These folks bothering you, Mr. Presley?” Doc asked, walking over from behind the counter.

“Nah, Doc, I know this little girl,” He said, gesturing to you and patting the man’s shoulder. “Give Sonny their bill, I’ll take care of em.”

“You don’t have to~” You started.

“Don’t worry about it,” He said. “You guys and girls take care. I’ll see you at the house, honey.”

“Bye, Elvis.” Barb said before he turned to leave, holding her hand out for a handshake.

“Bye, baby.” He smiled, taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips in a brief kiss. “Tell your sister I asked about her.”

“I will,” Barb said, covering her mouth in awe as you all watched him pick up his order from the counter and leave—stopping to sign a few more autographs before making it to his car.

“I cannot believe you!” Pat cried facing you. “You know Elvis Presley?”

“Don’t you think that’s something a girl should tell her friends?” Barb asked, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“So this whole time you’ve been talking about your boss,” James started. “You’ve been talking about him?”

“The Elvis Presley?” Marshall emphasized.

“Are you insane?” Pat asked.

“I-I hardly ever speak to him,” You said. “Why would I tell you?”

“You have to tell us these things!” Barb exclaimed.

“Would the two of you stop falling apart,” Marshall frowned. “Shit, if I had known he was gonna swoop in I would’ve gotten more than a shake.”

Pat laughed as she slid back into the booth first, followed by you and Barb. “It’s not every night you meet ‘the Elvis Presley,’ Marshall.”

“Marshmallow just hates seeing his girl all beside herself because of somebody else.” Kenneth laughed.

“I mean at least I have a girl.”

“Damn,” James laughed, earning a punch in the arm from Kenneth.

“What’s Graceland like?” Pat asked, looking at you. “You’re so lucky to get to work there.”

“He said he’d see you at the house,” Barb said. “You don’t live there do you?”

“I do, but~”

“Oh my god!”

“Girls,” You complained. “Can’t you be mature about this? It’s a job.”

“I’d die,” Barb said.

“Me too,” Pat agreed.

You shook your head, grabbing your milkshake and stirring it around with your straw. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I couldn’t imagine going home to Elvis Presley~”

“I’m not going home to him, Barb,” You snapped. “Stop talking about it already.”

“I can’t, I’m in shock,” She said. “I never thought in a million years~”

“You’re making her upset,” Kenneth spoke up when he saw your expression. “Shut up about it.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Marshall said.

“Tell her to shut up then,” James said. “She needs to know when to quit.”

“You shut up, James,” Pat said. “Barb’s just excited.”

“I-I think I’m gonna go,” You said. “I’m tired.”

“No, don’t~” Pat started.

“I’m tired,” You said, grabbing your bag from under the table. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Let me walk you.” Kenneth offered.

“No, you stay,” You said as Barb stood to let you out of the booth. “Have a good night guys.”

“Goodnight.” They all hummed in different variations as you smiled and left the diner.

“See what you did, you and your big mouth?”

“It’s not my fault she knows him.”

“I would’ve been asking her to pay every night if I knew she was rich.”

You heard a chorus of laughter from the table as you exited the diner. Their words made your throat feel tight as you crossed the street to get to your car. Knowing that they would’ve taken advantage of you if they knew you worked for Elvis made you worry that they wouldn’t hesitate to do so in the future. You didn’t know if you could trust them without the fear that they were using you. It made your heart sink.

As you drove home, sadness blossomed in your chest. Your friends no longer saw you as you, but as the girl who knew Elvis Presley.

*

Back at Graceland you pulled your car around and moped into the house. You went directly to Elvis’ room, making sure no one was lingering in the hall or on the stairs before walking in.

He looked up from the book in his hands when you entered, closing it with a smirk. “There you are.”

“Elvis.” You sighed with a pout before tears formed in your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked with a concerned expression as he stood, abandoning the book on his bedside table. “What happened?”

“Why’d you have to go and do that?” You asked, dropping your bag on the floor. “My friend’s adore you.”

“Why’re you cryin?” He asked, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“Barb and Pat went on and on about you after you left, ‘Elvis Presley, this’ and ‘Elvis Presley, that.’” You wiped your tears. “You know what I heard them say when I was leaving? They said they would’ve made me pay for their food every night if they knew I worked for you.”

“Birdie,” Elvis laughed. “That ain’t nothing to cry about.”

“The only reason they’ll want to be my friend now is because of you,” You said, pushing his arms off of your shoulders and walking past him. You sat on the bed with a huff, crossing your arms. “They think I’m rich. They wanna know what Graceland’s like~”

“Bring em over,” He suggested with a shrug.

“No, that’s not the point,” You whined. “I want them to like me for me, not because of what they think I can do for them.”

“They liked you just fine before t’night, honey, why would that change?” He asked, kneeling down in front of you and meeting your eyes. “There’s too much to like about you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It's true, and if they can’t see that, well, it’s their loss. Not yours.”

“They were my only friends,” You said looking down. “I don’t have anyone else.”

“You have me.” He put his hands on your thighs, making you meet his eyes.

“You’re hardly a friend.” You laughed shortly. “I can’t talk to you about the same things I talked to Barb and Pat about.”

“What do little girls talk about?” He asked with a laugh. “Dresses and makeup?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“You’ll find new friends,” He said optimistically. “There are plenty of girls in your classes, right?”

“There are.”

“Then talk to em.”

You nodded. “What am I gonna say to Barb and Pat?”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“But I’ll feel bad if I don’t.”

“You’ll get past it. I don’t like you hanging around those guys anyway.”

You disregarded his last sentence and the touch of possessiveness in his tone. “You almost gave me a heart attack tonight. You can’t do things like that.”

He laughed, clearly finding your nerves entertaining. “You didn’t think I came to make a scene did you?”

“You make a scene everywhere you go. Y’know, I contemplated telling Kenneth to make a run for it,” You said, making him laugh harder. “I’m serious!”

“I was just checking to make sure you were being good,” He said, chuckling as his laughter died down. “I wouldn’t have taken his head off without a proper reason, trust me.”

“You don’t have to worry about it anymore,” You said with a sad smile. “I’m friendless.”

“You ain’t never without a friend.” You laughed. “Don’t worry, pretty, you’ll replace em easy.”

“It was weird seeing you outside of Graceland.” You fidgeted with one of the rings on his hand. “When you kissed Barb’s hand,” You started, almost shying away from the confession. “I wished you were kissing me.”

He looked amused. “Can I make it up to you?”

You smiled as he took your hand and brought it up to his lips, keeping his eyes on yours. You watched him carefully as he turned your hand over and kissed your palm, then the underside of your wrist. He trailed another kiss or two up your arm before standing from where he was kneeling and kissing your left cheek, then your right. You giggled softly as he kissed your forehead, your nose, and your chin before stopping.

“You’re gorgeous,” He muttered, his eyes flitting fondly over your features. When he kissed you your eyes fell shut and your lips moved against his in perfect sync. “My gorgeous girl.” He murmured against your lips after breaking the kiss. “I have something for you.”

“What is it?” You asked as he stood and walked into his closet without a word, returning with a plain white department store box.

“I got it a while ago,” He said, handing the box to you. “To give you once I got home.”

“What’s the occasion?” You wondered with a smile.

“Open it,” He said instead of answering, nodding at the box with an expression you couldn’t make out.

You opened the box, putting the lid on the ground before pushing the tissue paper out of the way. Your eyebrows drew together slightly as you lifted the sheer, white baby-doll nightie from the box. Finding a white set of lingerie underneath it.

“I want you to wear it for me,” Elvis said as he gaged your reaction. He sat down beside you and kissed your cheek. “I’ve been thinkin about you in it for weeks now.”

“Elvis, I can’t wear this.” You shook your head, a stunned laugh leaving your lips at the thought.

“I want you to,” He said, laughing when you hid your face in the crook of his neck. “It’s just me.”

“It’s too much,” You said, pulling away and looking up at him. “I can’t pull it off.”

“Pull what off?” He asked with a smile.

“Being…sexy.” He laughed, making you complain. “Elvis!”

“Baby, I think you’ll do fine.” His eyes roamed over you for a moment. “You just let your body do all the work.”

“I don’t know.” You looked down at the set.

“Try it on and see how you feel,” He encouraged. “I’m not gonna make you wear it if you don’t want to.”

“Fine,” You said. “I have to shower first so keep yourself busy for a while.”

“I could make myself useful and help you out in there,” He ribbed as you stood to go to the bathroom.

“Not a chance.” You grabbed your bag from the ground and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

You found your toiletry bag under the sink—hidden away for the nights that you didn’t make it back to your room. You took your time to go through your routine, you even shaved in an attempt to further stall. When the time came to finally try on the set you thought about backing out, but you told yourself not to be a coward.

You slipped into the bottoms first, admiring the floral lace in the mirror before putting on the top. You turned in the mirror after the set was on completely, looking at yourself from different angles. You were never that self-conscious about your body but you were noticing everything you hated about yourself. You didn’t feel confident as you slipped on the sheer nightie over the set, but you didn’t want to let your insecurities get the best of you.

You rummaged through your school bag and grabbed your perfume, spraying yourself twice before putting it back. You checked your face and hair once more and decided that you had hidden away in the bathroom long enough.

“Okay,” You said to yourself, huffing a sigh and shaking your hands out before opening the door.

Elvis looked up from the book he was reading when he heard the door open. His eyes met yours before darting over your body. He closed the book, standing from the bed slowly before stalking over to you in the same leisurely manner. His eyes pinned you to your spot as you waited for him to say something, anything.

“Well?” You asked as he approached you, fidgeting with your hands.

He took your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and leaving a kiss on each. “You’re beautiful,” He said, breaking the tense silence at last. “So beautiful, birdie.”

“Really?” You didn’t know what else to say.

“Really,” He chuckled, dropping your left hand and spinning you around with the right. “Better than I imagined.”

You were relieved. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Come sit on the bed, let me look at you,” He said, leading you over before guiding you onto the bed. He stood back with his arms crossed and looked at you once you were sitting on the bed. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You look like a sin, making me think things I shouldn’t.”

“Like what?”

“I can show you better than I can tell you.”

Your heart rate increased as he sat beside you, kissing your bare shoulder while trailing his hand up your exposed thigh. “Will you show me?”

He nodded and kissed you. You parted your lips, deepening the kiss and letting his tongue touch yours. You brought both your hands up to unbutton his shirt, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. He helped you get rid of his shirt before pulling you into his lap. You tangled your fingers through his hair as you kissed, moaning softly when you felt his growing erection beneath you.

He lifted the hem of the nightie, removing it and leaving you in only the lace set. His eyes were clouded with lust as he leaned in and kissed your chest, his hands roaming over every inch of your body that they could reach. You became dizzy with want and you absentmindedly rolled your hips against his. He released a pleasured sigh and his lips found yours again.

You squeaked in surprise when he suddenly changed positions, laughing a little as he laid you beneath him. You blindly fumbled with the buckle of his belt until you got it undone.

“Please,” You whimpered. “I need you.”

“I got you, baby,” He promised. “We don’t have to go all the way, we can do other things~”

“I want to,” You insisted quickly.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He had a serious expression.

You nodded in response and again reassured him that you were ready. “I trust you.”

He kissed your forehead before repositioning himself between your thighs. You had a nervous feeling in your gut as you watched him kiss the inside of each of your thighs. With virtually no warning, your body jolted in response when he touched you and a throaty moan left your lips.

He pulled away to wrap his arms around your thighs, keeping them open as he tasted you. You found yourself grasping for anything to hold onto. He groaned quietly against you, moving his hips against the bed as he watched you fist the duvet.

The pleasure was too intense, but you couldn’t stop yourself from meeting his every movement. If you were embarrassed by the sounds escaping your lips it didn’t show.

You gasped audibly when he nudged his ring finger inside and curled it deep inside you. His name left your lips like a mantra, egging him on. He doubled down on his efforts and pushed you closer to the edge. He reached that spot deep inside of you that made your toes curl and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

Your back arched and your eyes squeezed shut before you trembled and pushed him away. He came up from between your thighs, kissing you feverishly. You tasted yourself on his tongue.

“You okay, baby?” You nodded your head, not trusting your voice as you recovered from your intense orgasm. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” You responded.

“We don’t have to.” You could hear the strain in his voice and see the sacrifice in his eyes.

“I want to,” You promised.

“Tell me to stop if it’s too much.” He searched your eyes attentively for any skepticism.

You nodded. “I will.”

He reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a condom from the drawer, getting rid of his pants along the way. You watched him bring the package up to his mouth and rip it open with his teeth. He sat back on his heels in front of you and rolled the condom over the aching tip of his cock.

“You look like a picture, baby,” He said as he positioned himself between your legs. You chuckled at the comment, it sounded more like a nervous laugh to your own ears.

You released a tense breath, relaxing beneath him. He kissed your shoulder, angling himself at your entrance. You tried not to tense up but the pain was immediate. You closed your eyes, and tried to focus on anything else—the sound of his voice, his gentle touch, the warmth of his breath against your skin, anything.

“Breathe, birdie.” You were suddenly aware that you were holding your breath. You released a pained exhale. “I’m sorry,” He whispered into your neck, his breathing becoming more uneven the further he inched himself inside of you.

You had thought about this moment since you first realized you loved Elvis and the anticipation that you had been putting off feeling was all coming to a head now. You were addicted to the way he invaded your senses just by being near you, and now, you were fully prepared to be addicted to this.

The feeling of true invasion.

You expected the initial sting to worsen but you only felt a slightly uncomfortable amount of pressure when he stilled, fully seated inside. He met your eyes with a concerned expression.

“I-I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded your head, trying not to let your discomfort show. “Yes.”

He didn’t move for a while and when he did he gave you fair warning. You reassured him that it was okay. He thrusted shallowly, his strokes becoming longer the more accustomed you grew to his size. He was gentle and careful with his movements, praising you the entire time.

You whimpered out a moan when the pain subsided and the foreign feeling began to morph into something more pleasing. You closed your eyes in relief.

“Look at me, honey,” He said, bringing his hand up to caress your face, groaning when he met your eyes. “Keep your eyes open.”

His thumb grazed over your parted lips, slipping between them and pressing against your tongue. You wrapped your lips around his thumb and he seemed pleased as he watched you suck his thumb, slowing his pace and thrusting deeply. You gasped when he brought his hand between your legs. His pace increased and you were suddenly verging on your second orgasm of the night.

“Oh g-god,” You stammered through your cries of pleasure, digging your nails into his shoulders in an attempt to remain grounded.

You forced yourself to continue meeting his eyes and wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer. His clenched jaw and his thrusts deepened before the knot in the pit of your stomach began to unravel.

“I can feel you,” He groaned, his eyes threatening to fall shut.

Suddenly you tensed and Elvis’ thrusts faltered as you trembled around him. When he reached his high his jaw went slack and his hips stuttered. He panted heavily, his pleasured sounds mixing with yours. He halted inside of you, staying there until the final pulses of his pleasure came to an end. He pulled out after a moment, leaving you feeling empty as he collapsed beside you. You turned onto your side facing him.

“You okay?” He asked after he’d mostly caught his breath, rubbing your back as he held you.

“I’m okay,” You said, lifting your head to look at him.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m perfect.” You smiled as you leaned in and kissed him. “I’m so happy.”

He hummed in response, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“I love you.” You didn’t wait for a response. You didn’t care if he said it back, all you cared is that he knew.

The two of you eventually decided to get out of bed to clean up. You stood together at the sink, smiling each time you met each other's eyes in the mirror. You didn’t exchange more than a few words, the silence was comfortable and it felt natural.

As you were wrapping your hair for the night you noticed Elvis rummaging through the drawer of his bedside table before retrieving a small prescription bottle. He examined the label for a moment before opening it and shaking a few into his hand.

“You okay?” You asked, pulling the duvet over your legs.

“Yeah.” Shifting to you, he examined the label of the bottle again. “They help me calm down.” You nodded in response. “D’you want one?”

“No,” You chuckled, remembering how horrible you felt the last time you took one.

“It’s not gonna hurt ya.” He smiled. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but…” You sighed, you met his eyes as he smirked at you, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s not bad for you.”

You put your hand out, letting him drop a single pill in your palm. He threw the other two in his mouth, twisting the lid back on and setting it aside. He grabbed the glass of stale water that had no doubt been there since the morning and washed them down. You took the glass when he handed it to you, putting the pill in your mouth and swallowing it down.

You felt anxious waiting for that same dizzy feeling to come over you, but it never did. Instead you felt more relaxed, slightly drowsy but exhilarated at the same time. You had moved into Elvis’ arms after he’d climbed under the duvet.

“What’re you smiling about?” He chuckled. You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying there in silence. All you could focus on was how his embrace felt warmer than it usually did.

“I don’t know,” You explained. “I wish this was real.”

“This is real.”

“You’ll go away again.”

“I know, but I’ll always come back.”

“Things are going to change eventually. I’m gonna finish school one of these days and your career’s taking off more and more everyday~”

“No~”

“It’s the truth.” You didn’t know how to articulate your fear of the future—of the unknown. “I wish I could stay in this moment forever.”

He sighed softly, it was obvious that he didn’t know how to respond. “We’re here right now, together. I’m gonna be here t’morrow, and the next day~”

“It still scares me, Elvis.”

“We can’t predict the future. All we got is right now, that’s what I’m tryna tell you.”

“I’m afraid to lose you.” You shifted so that you could look at him. “You’re the only person in the world that really knows me. That understands me.”

“That can’t be true.” He looked at you with heavy eyes. “Dawn’s your family.”

“Dawn hates me,” You said. “I don’t speak to my brother and my friends from school…they never really knew me. If I lose you, I’ll have no one.”

“Goddamnit, birdie,” Elvis started, exasperated but still gentle. His eyes bore into yours and he looked conflicted but you couldn’t fully read his expression as your eyes grew heavier. “Dawn doesn’t hate you, she loves you to death, that’s what’s wrong with her. And me, baby, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you with me, whatever it takes.”

You allowed yourself to be swayed by his words. “Really?”

“Really,” He confirmed, his thumb grazing over the apple of your cheek. “I need my favorite girl.”

“I’m your favorite girl?”

“And my best girl.” He pressed his forehead against yours, his thumb still moving over your cheek. “My sweet girl.”

You closed your eyes as Elvis continued to whisper sweet nothings to you, his low voice morphing into what would become your favorite lullaby as you soon drifted off to sleep.

[eternal-love]

Younger Elvis haunting older Elvis is my favorite concept.

I made this edit a few months ago: missamericana64

[youaintnothinbuta]

“I’m telling you, honey, you ain’t gon’ like it.” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: you push yourself too far out of your comfort zone and get upset at Elvis for it, but he’s very patient with you <3

Pairing: Elvis Presley or Austin!Elvis x reader

Word count: 865

Warnings: fluff!! Minor argument but very a patient Elvis <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’m telling you, honey, you ain’t gon’ like it.” Elvis stated through a small chuckle of disbelief as he shook his head.

“Oh, Elvis, of course I will.” you replied, smiling, though inwardly determined to prove yourself on the big rides. You wanted to impress him. Amusement parks were enjoyable, sure, but you were tired of being the one too scared for the fast and tall rides.

“You won’t.” He argued through his laugh, like he could see right through you.

Not earning a reply from you, he kept going, “I truly don’t mind going with the fellas, baby, you don’t need to do it for me.”

Unfazed, you pressed on, “I’m not doing it for you, Elvis, I’m doing it for me.” Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him towards the queue for the biggest rollercoaster, the Cyclone. Cliff, Billy, and your brother Bobby exchanged concerned glances, but joined the line with you.

“It’s not too late to back out,” Bobby teased, leaning over your shoulder, his voice a mixture of jest and genuine concern for you. Elvis held your hand as you stepped into your place in the cart, preparing yourself to face your fear. Once everyone was settled, the operator turned the ride on and slowly you started moving, going up a steep incline. It’s not so bad. As the rollercoaster climbed to its peak, your heart pounded in your chest, and as it plummeted down, screams erupted from your lips. But these weren’t screams of exhilaration; they were screams of terror. With each twist and turn, you felt sick to your stomach, regretting every moment that led you to this point. Elvis’ arm around you provided little comfort as you endured the ordeal.

Finally, the ride screeched to a halt, and you stumbled out, feeling shaky and nauseous. Moving out of the exit of the ride, that feeling of nausea was quickly replaced with one of anger.

“I can’t believe you let me do that! You knew I’d hate it!” You lightly punched his chest, upset. He fought back a laugh, feeling bad, he knew that thing had scared you to death.

Instead of arguing back, Elvis guided you away from the bustling crowds to the quiet solitude of the car park, letting you groan and whine as you needed to. The distant sounds of laughter and excitement echoed through the air. The soft glow of twinkling lights overhead cast a gentle illumination. With a sigh, you leaned against a nearby railing, the cool metal soothing against your skin as you closed your eyes, attempting to calm yourself. Elvis stood beside you, letting you have a moment to breathe, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as you sniffled.

After a moment of silence, he turned to you, his expression softened with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice gentle. With a shaky breath, you shook your head, unable to find the words.

Without hesitation, Elvis pulled you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you buried your face against his chest. You allowed yourself to lean on him, to find solace in his comforting presence. With a soft sigh, you pulled away from Elvis’s embrace, meeting his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apology.

Your eyes glossy with unshed tears, you mumbled, “I’m sorry. It just gave me such a fright. I don’t ever want to do that again.”

Elvis’s expression softened even further, his eyes filled with compassion and understanding. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice gentle. “I shouldn’t have let you. I know. Next time, listen to me though. I’m only here to care for you.”

You nodded, thankful.

“Do you want to go back to the others, or are you done for the night?” he asked, his voice gentle, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you needed.

After a moment’s hesitation, you met Elvis’ gaze, your decision clear in your mind. “I think I’m done for the night, I wanna go home,” you admitted softly.

Elvis nodded understandingly, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze yours. “That’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. “Let’s go for a drive and head home, just the two of us.”

He opened the passenger side door, you promptly plunked your bottom down. With a soft sigh, Elvis turned the key in the ignition, and the car roared to life, the engine rumbling beneath you as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road.

After what felt like an eternity, Elvis pulled up in front of his house, the soft glow of porch lights welcoming you home. With a grateful smile, he turned off the engine and turned to you.

“Here we are,” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. “Tired, baby?”

You nodded, as you stepped out of the car and followed Elvis up the path to the front door. As he unlocked the door and let you inside, a sense of relief washed over you, grateful for the familiar comfort of his home. You stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping you, you could have just fallen asleep right there.

[lustnhim]

his laugh is so cute oh my god (´▽｀)ｏ♡

[presley4president]

My love for him will never die

[ladelinee]

Little killer

Summary: Elvis will teach you how to shoot, Memphis mafia involved. Fluff (and a bit of comedy 🤭)

Wordcount: 2,7K

You could still feel your puffy eyes as you blink. Sitting in the luxurious dining room, stirring your hot cup of coffee, you wait for the sugar to dissolve, hoping the waiting will also bring the drink to a more bearable temperature.

In the meantime, your head rests on your left hand. God, it’s already 3 p.m., but it feels like 7 a.m you thought. You love Elvis Presley, but this disrupted body clock is driving you crazy. Keeping up with his schedule is exhausting and doesn’t come naturally to you.

The boys are around, laughing and joking. Normally, they don’t bother you, but today is one of those days when you can’t seem to rest. The only thing you need is just five minutes of silence.

Elvis suddenly strode in, his eyes gleaming like the sun itself with a sense of purpose that sent a ripple of tension through the room.

He slammed his hand on the table, making everyone jump. “Darlin’!” he said, his voice booming, making you spill the coffee a bit. “Today is the day”

You blinked, wiping the coffee off your sleeve, half asleep. “Elvis, today what…?”

He came closer, with all the energy of a man who thought he was about to change your life. He leaned down, his face inches from yours, and said, “Today, you’re gonna become the girl of Elvis Presley, and no one, no one, will ever mess with ya again.”

You blinked. Your eyes darted to the boys in the other room, who were now peeking in with a mix of shock and panic on their faces. Red whispered to Jerry, “Is he… is he about to do what I think he’s gonna do?”

Your heart began to race as you caught their expressions. Wait, you thought, is he going to propose?A hundred different thoughts raced through your mind as Elvis swaggered closer, eyes locked on you.

Your eyes widened, a nervous laugh escaping your throat. “Uh… what exactly do you mean by that?”

The boys were watching from the corners of the room, looking more panicked by the second. One of them mouthed, “What the hell is going on?!”

You felt heat rise to your face, hands getting sweaty as Elvis stood up straighter, his presence towering over you. He gestured for you to stand up. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you clumsily got to your feet, still clutching your coffee mug like it was a life raft.

Elvis turned dramatically to the rest of the boys and then back to you, his voice full of conviction. “I’m gonna make a woman outta ya today!”

The room fell deathly silent. Just what you wanted but at the wrong moment. Joe was half-standing, ready to intervene, while the rest of the guys were practically holding their breath. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your mind racing with romantic fantasies.

But before you could say a word, Red, who had been sweating bullets in the corner, suddenly stepped forward, waving his arms. “Uh, boss, are you sure you wanna do this? I mean, she’s, uh… she’s not exactly dressed for… a life-altering moment, ya know?” He looked at your pajama situation and raised his eyebrows.

You shot Red a panicked look. “Thank you, Red. Someone who understands.”

Elvis grinned, ignoring Red entirely. He grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the door with a flourish. “C’mon, darlin’. I got somethin’ to show ya.”

You stumbled behind him, barely able to keep up, still processing everything. Your mind was spinning. This is it. This is my big moment, he’s proposing to me in front of the boys while I look like a half-awake raccoon. You could practically see Elvis getting down on one knee, and hear him saying something like “Marry me, baby,” with all the charismatic aura he could muster.

Elvis stopped in front of the… wait, were we heading to the shed? Not exactly the most romantic spot, but okay. In the backyard behind Graceland, he threw open the doors with a dramatic flourish. Oh God, here it comes,you thought. He’s about to pull out a ring.

Except… instead of a ring, he pulled out a shotgun.

You blinked. And blinked again.

Wait… “… Elvis?” you said slowly, still holding onto the tiny shred of hope that this was all leading to some sort of romantic surprise. “What’s this?”

He grinned, grabbing the shotgun and holding it out to you like it was a bouquet of roses. “Today, baby, you’re learnin’ to shoot! No woman of mine goes out into the world without knowin’ how to defend herself.”

From the door, Jerry groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Red shook his head, laughing so hard he was almost in tears. “This is the best day of my life. She’s over here hearing wedding bells, and he’s giving her gun safety lessons.”

Elvis, meanwhile, was already in full-on drill-sergeant mode. “Now, darlin’, here’s what you’re gonna do. Take this here gun, stand like this, and aim straight at that target.” He set up a tin can on a fence post like it was a challenge sent from the gods.

You stood there in your pajamas, coffee-stained, barefoot, holding the shotgun with a look of complete disbelief. “Elvis, I don’t know if this is really…”

But before you could finish, Elvis waved his arm grandly. “Boys!” he shouted back at the house. “Everybody outside! I want y’all to see how my baby’s gonna blow y’all’s asses away real soon!”

The guys, now looking even more bewildered, slowly shuffled outside, clearly trying not to laugh.

You awkwardly positioned the gun like Elvis had shown you, feeling all of their eyes on you. Elvis stood back, crossing his arms, proud as ever. “Go on, darlin’. Show ‘em how it’s done.”

You pulled the trigger, and the recoil was so strong it almost knocked you into next week. The shot went wide, really wide. You weren’t sure where it landed, but it definitely wasn’t anywhere near the target.

Before you could even catch your breath, you glanced at Elvis, but his face was hidden from view. His gaze was fixed firmly on the guys, though you couldn’t tell why.

There was a moment of dead silence as everyone processed what just happened. Then, in perfect, awkward unison, all the boys started clapping.

Not a normal clap, either. Oh no. It was the most sarcastic, slow-motion, forceful clapping you’d ever heard.They didn’t want to disobey Elvis apparently.

“Wow” Jerry deadpanned, still clapping as he’d just witnessed the moon landing. “She really nailed it.”

“Right on target” Red added, grinning like an idiot.

You shot them all a death glare, your ears still ringing from the blast. “Thanks, guys. Really feeling the support.” You replied.

Elvis, still beaming, gave you an enthusiastic slap on the back that nearly knocked you over again. “That’s alright, baby! You’ll be the sharpest shooter this side of Memphis by the time I’m done with ya.”

You sighed, wiping a stray hair out of your face.I could’ve been getting proposed to right now you thought. Instead, I’m missing tin cans while grown men clap for me like I’m their five-year-old niece.

Elvis sauntered over, clearly noticing your less-than-perfect stance. “Alright darlin’, you’re doin’ great, but let me show ya how it’s done” he said, his voice a smooth rumble. Before you could protest, he slid in behind you, so close you could feel the warmth of his chest press against your back.

Your breath hitched.

He wrapped his arms around yours, his hands guiding yours back onto the shotgun, correcting your grip. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his breath warm against the back of your neck as he leaned in to speak softly in your ear. “Now, you wanna keep it steady. Relax those shoulders, darlin’. Don’t be so tense.”

Your heart was beating so loudly you were sure he could hear it. Elvis’s hands were warm, firm but gentle as he adjusted your hold on the gun “See?” he murmured, his voice lower now, almost a whisper. “Just like that.”

You could barely concentrate on what he was saying. The mix of his warmth against your back and the tickle of his breath on your ear was making it hard to focus on, well, anything.

"Now, darlin'," he said, "take a deep breath. Hold the gun firmly. Once you exhale, you'll find it easier to control the trembling."

You did as he asked, inhaling slowly, but your breath came out shaky. How could you not be shaky with him this close? The smell of his cologne mixed with leather was all around you, and his voice: deep, rich, and filled with that unmistakable Southern charm, was enough to make your knees weak.

“Keep your eyes on the target” he murmured, his mouth so close to your ear that you could feel the vibration of his words more than you could hear them. “And just… pull the trigger when you’re ready. I know you can do this, baby”

You pulled the trigger, and this time, the shot wasn’t as wild as before, but it still didn’t hit the target. It whizzed by it, probably scaring some poor bird in the tree behind it. The recoil was strong, but this time, Elvis held you steady, his grip keeping you grounded

He let out a low chuckle, still close enough that you felt it rumble through your back. “Almost, baby,” he said, his voice teasing but not unkind. “You’ll get it.”

From the door, the boys were clapping again: loud, exaggerated, sarcastic claps that echoed through the yard. “Great job!” Jerry yelled, laughing. “Nailed it that time!”

You groaned, turning your head to give them a look, but Elvis was still so close that you ended up brushing your cheek against his. Your face heated instantly but Elvis didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact, he was grinning down at you, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Alright, fellas, that's enough for today. Give us some space."

Elvis's gaze remained locked on your lips as he spoke, his eyes filled with tenderness.

“Let’s try again, honey,” Elvis said, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he noticed you getting a little nervous under his gaze.

You tried to focus all your attention on the can ahead of you. You breathed in slowly, trying to follow the instructions Elvis had given you. But just as your finger grazed the trigger, his voice, soft and teasing, broke the silence. “You look beautiful today, darlin’ ” he whispered, his arms slipping around your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

A blush crept up your face instantly, and you could feel the warmth of his body against your back, his masculine energy completely surrounding you. A shiver ran through you, not just from his words, but from the way his sideburns brushed against your ear as he leaned in to whisper.

“Even in pajamas?” you asked, your voice coming out softer than you intended, your smile tinted with embarrassment.

“Especially in pajamas” he replied with that irresistible grin, his blue eyes locking onto your face with such intensity it made your heart skip. And before you could even catch your breath, his lips pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, lingering just long enough to leave your skin tingling.

“Elvis, you’re distracting me,” you laughed, your voice a little shaky.

“I know” he grinned, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “But I bet my baby shoots even better when ol’ Elvis is givin’ her some love.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound mixing with your nervous energy. “Why do you want me to learn how to shoot?” you asked, watching as Elvis moved his hands over yours, adjusting your grip on the gun with effortless confidence.

“’Cause you gotta know how to protect yourself if I’m not around” he replied, his voice tinged with excitement. “You’re gonna be my little killer, the boss of this house.”

Your stomach fluttered at his words, and you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the can ahead of you. But with Elvis so close, the warmth from his body and the teasing in his voice made it almost impossible to concentrate. His presence was overwhelming, in the best way.

“Alright then,” you breathed, doing your best to steady your hands. You tried to follow his instructions, feeling the weight of his arms gently guiding yours as your finger grazed the trigger.

“Take your time, baby. Breathe with me,” he whispered, his lips brushing your cheek again in the process, sending a ripple of warmth through your body. His chest rose and fell against your back, slow and steady, and you instinctively matched his rhythm, your heart still racing despite your efforts to stay calm.

With his arms around you and his presence grounding you, you finally squeezed the trigger. The gun kicked back slightly, but the bullet flew straight, hitting the can dead center with a loud ping.

You gasped, wide-eyed with surprise. “I did it!” you exclaimed, your voice filled with pride as a huge smile spread across your face.

Elvis chuckled, his laughter rich and deep. He gently took the gun from your hands, letting it fall to the ground without a second thought. Before you could react, he swept you up into his arms, spinning you around effortlessly. “Atta girl!” he said, his voice brimming with pride, but there was something deeper in his tone, something tender. “Told ya you could do it.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, still beaming from the success and the thrill of being in his arms. You could feel the strength in his embrace, but it was his warmth and affection that made your heart race even faster.

Elvis’s smile began to fade slightly as he stopped twirling you in the air and gently set you back on the ground. With a look of pure affection and love, he cupped your chin, his eyes soft as he spoke. “My sweet baby, I love you.”

In that moment, you felt so small, dwarfed by his height and his presence. But the way he looked at you, the depth of his love, made you feel both protected and cherished. His love surrounded you like a warm embrace, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft, a smile tugging at your lips.

“By the way, honey” Elvis said softly, his voice carrying a playful yet serious tone, “The best restaurant in Memphis is closin’ up just for us tonight. So, darlin’, get yourself ready. I got some plans in mind.”

Your heart immediately began to race. Elvis rarely went out to restaurants; that was one of the downsides of dating a celebrity. Fans would always be there, making it impossible for him to have a peaceful dinner, so you usually stayed in or dined privately in his suite. If he’d gone to the trouble of shutting down an entire restaurant… it could only mean something important.

Elvis winked at you, and you swallowed hard, the weight of his words hitting you fully.

Slowly, Elvis leaned down, his face inching closer to yours. Then his lips finally met yours, it was soft and slow, like he was savoring every second. His kiss was gentle at first, but as your lips moved together, you felt the growing passion behind it. The sensation of his smooth, freshly-shaven skin brushing lightly against your face sent shivers down your spine.

His hand slid from your chin to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he deepened the kiss, but it never lost its tenderness. It was as if he was pouring all his love for you into that moment, holding you close but with the gentleness of someone who never wanted to let go.

Finally, he pulled back, just enough to let your foreheads rest together, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes, dark and hooded, met yours again, a crooked grin spreading across his face.

“Now that” he drawled and smiled “was better than any shootin’ lesson.”

[rosecoloreddesire]

Not A Lie ~ Elvis Presley

Summary: You could never imagine THE Elvis Presley to show up in your little diner. How can you tell your parents that…he’s your fiancé??

Note: IM BACK! I’m going to be graduating in February so I’m hoping I can get some writing out! I’m so sorry if this is a bad come back? I haven’t proofread yet! But I think it’s good 💙 missed you all so much!

Warnings: FLUFF!

“Y/N, you gotta stop lyin’! You know how much your daddy loves Elvis!” You huff out as you chase your mom around the kitchen island.

“Mama! Just listen to me! I’m being honest! I am enga-“ she put a finger to your lips as you both hear the front door unlock, opening to your daddy whistling a soft tune of Blue Suede Shoes.

“Not a word in front of him, got it?” You sigh loudly not wanting her to put you down.

“But mama! He’s comin’ ton-“ she cuts you off with an ice cold glare. You finally let it go, walking past your father to your room.

“God damn it all! Why won’t anyone ever listen to me?” The small phone in your room begins to ring, picking it up you sit on your bed. A certain southern drawl cheers you up.

“Hey there, lil’ lady. How’s my girl doin’? I’ll be there soon I promise. My parents are wantin’ us to get together and do some photos here at Graceland for the family album.” He chuckles while you heard his grandma in the back.

“Hi grandma! Um, pictures? Like engagement pictures?” You nervously hum, twirling the phone cord around your finger.

“Well, I did get you that pretty rock on your finger. And I think that means your stuck with lil’ old me, baby.” Your cheeks flush as he lowly whispers.

“I’ll see you soon. Lest your flirtin’ make my face flush!” His giggles are cut off as you hang up. Your face aglow. Your phone rings once again.

“Elvis Presley- if you don’t stop-“

“Elvis Presley?! I knew it!” Your best friend Amelia was on the other line….her screams of joy influence you to push the phone as far away from you as possible. You wince as she continues.

“Amelia Jones! You needa keep it down! What’ll you do if your mama says she won’t be gettin’ you into my mama’s salon this Thursday!” The other line dies down.

“You know your mamas the only one you can actually do my hair and make it look good!” You chuckle as she tries to explain herself.

“Yes! That’s why when I tell you the boy I’ve been datin’ all year and last year is Mr. Elvis Presley.” You state confidently as she squees softly.

“That’s why you wasn’t impressed when we saw him for the first time! You were kissin’ him!!!” Her giggles and squeals made you roll your eyes. Amelia was always into the whole romance and love at first sight tropes in the movies.

“Y/N! Get down here! Your mother and I need to have a talk with you!” You grumble and hope your mom hadn’t told your father about the whole engagement.

“Gotta go, Ames! Bye!” You hung up, smooth your skirt and make your way down the stairs.

“You know the policy we have on lyin’, young lady.” Your daddy was sitting on the couch with your mother.

“Daddy, I ain’t lyin’ to you! I really am-“ your mothers laugh breaks you off again.

“We are supposed to believe that Elvis Presley is coming tonight to meet us after askin for your hand?” She fans herself. Your mom usually was so supportive but you do have to hand it to her. This was kinda crazy.

“I ain’t! He’s really sweet! His mama and daddy are arranging a photo shoot for us to be in the Presley family album! I’m gonna be a Presley, daddy!”

“I wanna believe you but how did you even meet?”

—

“And will that be all for you today?” The man in front of you was clearly flirting as you wrote off his receipt.

“Uh actually this is gonna sound weird but are you an angel?” You rolled your eyes, waving your hand.

“Hm, I’ve actually never heard of that one but I am very aware thank you. Bye!” You spun around on your heel and grabbed a new pad and paper. You fixed your hair in the reflection of napkin holder.

“You handled that well, Darlin’.” You jump a little. The voice was low and oddly familiar. You turned with a flush to your cheeks.

“ yeah well creeps like that don’t like the word no so-“ you paused as you finally saw the person speaking to you.

“It’s a shame cause he ain’t wrong. But he forgot to say you look like a goddess.”

“You’re-“ you stuttered holding your hand to your chest.

“Your future boyfriend I hope.” You must have looked like a tomato with how warm your cheeks were getting.

“Uh- are you serious? Is this a prank?.”

“Here’s my number. Use it wisely.” And with a wink he was gone as fast as he came.

——

“I’m supposed to believe he came to our family restaurant when your mama and I were gone?” You nod desperately. You take your mothers hand and show her your ring.

“Oh my god, Y/N. That’s a real ring! How did you-“ your doorbell is going off before you can explain.

“Do you want to get that, daddy?” You ask softly, praying to whatever god that Elvis was standing at the door. He huffs as he sits up, making his way to the door.

“Afternoon- OH MY GOD. You-“ Your father brings your fiancé into a bear hug. Your father squeezes the poor boy as you giggle. Your skin flushing at the display.

“It’s really Elvis! What in the hell?” Your mom grasps your hands tightly as the boy walks into the house, more like pulled. You giggle as he finally sees you, a bit frazzled. He detaches himself from your father as he makes his way to you. His lips soft against your cheek as your body warms.

“Uh, mom, dad, this is my fiancé.” You spout awkwardly as Elvis slips his arm around you. Your father gleams with excitement.

“I understand why you didn’t ask for my blessin’, son! You can marry my daughter!” You’ve never seen your father so ecstatic in your life. Except the one time he won a ticket to see Elvis. Or the one time he heard Heart Break Hotel on the radio in his car. Huh….you are sensing a running theme…

“I really do love your daughter. It’s jus’ been rough tryin’ to get a time together to meet y’all.” He smiles boyishly at your parents. Your mom still reeling in the fact that you were telling the truth.

“D-did ya enjoy our family diner?” Your mom stutters out. You stifle laugh placing your hand over your mouth. You look at Elvis awaiting his answer.

“Of course, ma’am! Great atmosphere, great food, and even greater waitresses.” He bumps you with his shoulder as you blush.

“Well, don’t be a stranger, Mister Presley! Come on, we were just gettin’ ready for our meal!” Your father pushes Elvis to a chair at the table. You shakily sit next to him as your nerves still haven’t fully settled.

“Why our daughter?” Your breath hitches as your mom starts to plate the food.

“Lord, where do I start? She looks as if she walked right out of a Hollywood movie. An absolute starlet.” Your skin flushes as his hand drifts to your thigh.

“I wish! We met up with some of his Hollywood buddies and they were super sweet! They think Elvis has a real shot of hittin’ it big!” You smile as he laughs. His gaze focuses on you the whole time. How could he have found the most amazing thing to have come out of him having to hide from fans in a local diner? His eyes never leave your lips as you continue to sing his praises.

“I really think it’s a great idea to see you two married! Can you believe it, honey? We’d be related to the Presley’s!” Your dad claps as he excitedly dug into his food. Your mother still seems a little hesitant.

“What’s gonna stop you from chasin’ other girls around town? My daughter hasn’t even dated before you!” Your eyes widen as you take a bite of your dinner. You hadn’t really had that conversation with Elvis yet…

“I’m your first boyfriend?” You wince at his surprised tone. You turned to face him.

“Uh, yeah. I, uh, never really thought about the whole dating thing. Until you kissed me at that charity concert…I-“ his lips are soft against your cheek. Your hand shaking in his hand.

“You don’t need to explain nothin’, darlin’. Thank you so much for the lovely dinner but I best be goin’ soon I only had a it of time to spare.” He began to get up as your father rose from his seat.

“How about you go with him, sweetheart? Your mom and I are gonna have a talk about all this.” You nod, hugging him quickly. You all but ran up the stairs to get away from the tension.

“How cute. Pink really fits you.” Elvis smirks as his fingers traced your bed sheets. You scoff as you pack a small bag.

“I haven’t gotten to change my sheets since I was like 10, E. Give me a break. Do you really want to do this?” Elvis’ hand caresses your face, pushing a few stray hairs out of your face.

“I want you. Every day. Afternoon. And night. You are all I think about.” His voice just a bit above a whisper. Your eyes were heavy as you stare at his lips.

“Can I be yours forever?” His lips were soft as he pulls you close. The kiss was delicate but passionate as he grips your hair slightly.

“If you’ll let me.”

[sissylittlefeather]

I finished it! This is part of my main Elvis x fem!reader series. It goes between Baby, What's Your Name and Always, Honey. I'm sorry I'm writing these all out of order, but this is just the way they've come out of me. As always, feel free to imagine Elvis or Austin!Elvis. Let me know if you like it!

I really look forward to interacting with people who read my stuff, so feel free to drop me a note 😁

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, etc etc etc

Goodnight, Sweetheart

There's a quiet but urgent knock on your dorm room door. You turn and look at Margie.

"Were you expecting someone?" She shakes her head.

"Nope." You shrug. Oh well, maybe it's someone with the wrong room number. As you walk to the door, the knocking gets more urgent and you start to get a little nervous.

You pull open the door and Elvis steps into the room, closing the door quickly behind him.

"Elvis, what are you doing here?! How did you get in here?!" This is a girls' dorm on campus at an all-girls college.

"Hey, I'm Elvis Presley. I make magic happen, baby." He holds your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. Margie clears her throat, slides her shoes on, and collects her purse.

"I suddenly remembered that I need to be somewhere." She slips out of the room, shooting you a wink on her way out. Since you hooked up with Elvis after his show two weeks ago, she hasn't let you talk about anything else.

"She seems like a good roommate." Elvis laughs in a way that seems to fill the room up with joy. He walks over to your bed and flops himself down in a half sitting, half laying position.

"So, darlin', what have you been up to since I saw ya last?" Your heart flutters at the sight of him on your bedspread. He seems to have grown into his manhood in the time since you were together. Or maybe you're just acutely aware of it because you're the one who made him a man. Either way, the real answer to his question is that you've been missing him desperately. Even though you only had the one night together, it was quite a night, and you've thought about it every day since. Still, you never expected to see him again.

"Oh, just this and that. Going to class and such." You walk over and sit down on the other side of your bed. He reaches out and moves your hair behind your ear.

"My little studious sweetheart."

Your heart skips several beats. Did he just call you his sweetheart? But he probably calls everyone his sweetheart. You start to wonder how many girls he's been with since his first time with you. Two weeks likely feels like a lifetime in his fast-paced world.

"What about you? Played a lot of shows?"

"That's an understatement. Sometimes we do 3 or 4 a day."

"Oh wow. You must be exhausted." He smiles and picks up your hand, kissing the back of it gently. Your stomach flip-flops with the feeling of his lips on you. Still, you pull your eyebrows together in a frown.

"Elvis, why are you here?"

"Can't a guy come see a pretty girl when he has a moment of free time?" He puts on his stage smile and winks at you.

"Elvis. Really. I never expected to see you again."

His face falls and he looks down at your hand in his. He seems to be contemplating whether he should give you a real answer. He turns your hand over and presses his lips to the center of your palm.

"I missed you." He mumbles into your hand. A warm smile spreads across your face.

"You did?"

"I really did. I've thought about you every day for the past two weeks. All those nights in hotel rooms alone after shows... I just wished I knew how to get a hold of you." So he wasn't with a bunch of girls. Another thought pops into your head.

"How did you find me?" He does a sheepish grin.

"I-I I called the school and told them I wanted to send you flowers. And I really did want to! But then I decided to just come over here instead." You laugh and lean against him on the bed.

"Flowers are nice, but this is better."

His eyes darken and he puts his hand in your hair, holding the back of your head.

"I agree." He leans in and kisses you passionately, parting your lips just enough to slide his tongue into your mouth. You grab the front of his jacket and pull him toward you, leaning fully into his kiss. He lays you down on the bed next to him, leaning over you to keep kissing you, his hand moving up and down your hip and stomach. He pulls back from the kiss and looks you in the eyes, seemingly asking for permission to touch you more. You put your hand on his and slide it up to your chest. That's all the permission he needs. Now his hand is under your sweater and bra, his thumb grazing your nipple. You sit up and pull the sweater over your head and off. He removes your bra a lot easier this time. You push his jacket off of his shoulders and go to work unbuttoning his black lace shirt. This whole time, you're kissing anytime you can, your lips meeting in a blend of tenderness and passion. He starts kissing down your face, then your neck, then your body until he gets to your breasts. He playfully teases your nipples with his tongue. He's a lot bolder in his exploration of your body this time around and you revel in the pleasure of his mouth and hands on you. Eventually, he unzips your skirt and slides it down your thighs, going immediately back up to do the same with your panties. He stops and laughs a little when he gets to them, though.

"What?"

"I'm just thinking about you throwing these on the stage. You know you started something. It happens all the time now."

"Oh, it does?" Your voice catches a little and he notices. He looks at you thoughtfully.

"Yours are the only ones I've ever kept, though." Warmth spreads through you at the thought of him only wanting to hold onto yours. He goes back to pulling your panties down, slowly sliding them down your legs and over your feet. He holds your foot in his hand and softly kisses your ankle. Then, he makes his way up your leg, dropping his lips periodically to plant soft kisses on your calf and thigh. He kisses the inside of your other thigh and then looks up at you smiling, like he's had an idea. You're not sure where he's going with all this kissing, but you love the feeling of his lips on your skin, so you don't argue. Finally, he lowers his head and kisses you right on your center.

"Oh!" You let out a small gasp. No one has ever put their mouth there before and the sensation was delicious. When he hears the sound you make, he smiles and does it again, this time lingering a little longer on you. You arch your back and a small moan escapes your lips. He's thoroughly enjoying the effect this is having, so when he does it a third time he adds his tongue to the mix, moving it like you instructed him to move his thumb last time.

"Elvis, fuck!" You cry out, overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth on you. You've never experienced pleasure like this before and you know you won't last long if he keeps this up. He pulls back from you for a second and you try to catch your breath. He tilts his head to the side, watching your chest heaving as you gasp for air. Then, he takes two fingers and slides them into you as he dips his head down and licks you hard again. He continues pushing his fingers into you as he makes circles with his tongue.

"OH GOD!" You grab the top of his hair and grind into him uncontrollably as your climax slams into you, pushing electric bolts of ecstasy out to your fingertips and back again to the place where his tongue is still moving. His fingers become inexplicably wetter and your legs shake.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" You continue to cry out. Finally he pulls back, laughing.

"Nah, it's still just Elvis." You explode into a cascade of giggles both at what he just said and the way he just made you feel.

"Where did you learn that?" You ask, still breathing heavily.

"Well, I'd heard of it before, but I just really wanted to kiss you there and you liked it so much I didn't stop."

"Never stop." You laugh and he laughs with you again.

"Was it too much? Did I knock you out?"

"Oh no." You look at him playfully, "Get up here and finish what you started."

You move to take his pants off, but your hands are trembling. He stands up and lets them fall to the floor, climbing back on top of you excitedly. He puts one hand on either side of your head and leans in to kiss you deeply, rolling his hips forward and pushing his erection against your leg. You whimper a little at the feeling of him being so close to where you want him. Finally, he reaches down and lines himself up with you. You're about to go crazy with need while he takes his time. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he's having fun driving you wild.

"What do you want, baby?"

You moan into his mouth and manage to whisper, "you... I want you..."

He kisses you one last time before he pushes into you as deep as he can. This time you moan together, your foreheads pressed against each other, and he picks up a steady rhythm. Your sweat mixes with his as your bodies move in tandem. He slides in and out of you, pushing deeper and deeper, his hips slamming against yours. His length is exactly right to hit the most sensitive places inside of you. After a few minutes in this position, he rolls over onto his back and smiles at you, ready for you to get on top, since it's what you did last time.

"Uh-uh. Sit up." You gesture for him to scoot back. He moves to sit with his back against the wall at the head of your bed, excitement in his eyes. You put your hands on his shoulders and a knee on either side of his hips, lowering yourself onto him. He moans as he slides into you slowly and deeply. The difference in position is subtle, but it's enough for him to notice.

"Mmmm" he closes his eyes, leans his head back, and bites his lower lip. You lean in and kiss him on the cheek while you move up and down on him. He smiles, but keeps his eyes closed. You stop bouncing and start grinding your hips into him, rolling back and forth, pushing him deeper and deeper.

"Oh fuck, baby." His eyes pop open and he watches you move, bringing his hands up to cup your breasts and then run down your rib cage to your hips.

"Honey, I'm close," he whispers into your hair. Without further warning, he flips you over again and pounds into you, kissing your neck and shoulders as he does. You wrap your legs around him, feeling the heat of his skin on yours. Finally, he cries out, cussing loudly and shuddering into you.

He kisses you on the lips and jaw and neck and then lays his head on your chest. You lay there together, breathing heavily, you running your fingers through his hair. After a while, you realize his breathing is measured and steady. He's fallen asleep on your chest. You smile to yourself. He really must've been tired. Hopefully, Margie found somewhere else to stay tonight because it doesn't look like he's going anywhere any time soon. You gently roll him off of you onto his back and sneak away to the bathroom. When you come back, you slide your panties back on and slip into bed with him, snuggling into his shoulder. Just as you're about to drift off to sleep, you feel his lips on your forehead.

"Goodnight, sweetheart..."

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

Taglist: @itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

[wanderingelvis]

First things first, in love with your writing style! Have a little request for you: teenage!Elvis taking a bubbly!bookworm! reader to a high school dance at Humes. The reader lives at Lauderdale Courts as well and he often spots her reading on the grass in front of the building. The two bond increasingly over books (he could listen to her enthusing over novels for hours) and this led to his asking. A very cute, softhearted romance overall. Thank you, let me know what you think! 💜

i love this request sm, it was meant to be short but i got carried away and now it's the longest request i've written! 🧚

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

word count: 4,762

pairing: 50s elvis x bubbly, bookworm female! reader

Oh Lord, Elvis adored you. You were practically the human version of a golden retriever and he thought you were awful sweet.

Elvis had a tough time at high school, he was a bit different, he liked to style his hair differently and enjoyed different music to most of the folks at school. Girls loved him, but finding friends was a challenge.

It meant that Elvis was fairly reserved, which was often mistaken for stand-offish and intimidating, when actually, Elvis just wanted to make sure he was surrounded by kind people.

Your mother and father had warned you about the boy from Lauderdale Courts, the one that looked "rebellious" and sinful, even if they actually quite liked Gladys and Vernon Presley. But you knew that Elvis wasn't a mean spirited person, he'd never made fun of you at school like some other people had, when he'd had every opportunity to do so.

You didn't let mean comments from school get to you. You knew that it was just a reflection of the whoever had said the nasty words and that they'd learn better eventually. That's what your book had told you, all the characters that had been the subject of harsh words never let it get to them and you decided that you wouldn't let the words get to you either.

You loved books, they were your passion and you would rarely be found without a book in your hands. Between classes, at the breakfast table, on the lawn in front of Lauderdale Courts, you always managed to find time to start reading your latest favourite novel.

And that's how Elvis first approached you, on the lawn of Lauderdale Courts, under your favourite tree with your nose buried in a book. You hadn't even noticed him standing over you until he coughed to get your attention.

Elvis had been through a rough day, he was graduating high school along with you, but he'd started talks with a record label and there was a possibility of even touring and performing some songs. It was exciting albeit stressful and there were a lot of people applying a lot of pressure onto the young star.

Elvis just wanted to relax when he arrived home after some meetings, to unwind and calm down a little, and when he spotted you basking in the warm, golden sunlight, giggling adorably at the book, he figured that whatever happiness you held was infectious - and he walked over straight to you.

He'd always noticed you but you'd never exactly paid him much attention as your stories were your top priority.

"Hello darlin'," Elvis said, crouching down by you as you peered up at him, squinting a little to avoid the blinding evening sun. "Mind if I join ya?" He asked.

You were a little taken aback at first, no-one ever approached you, especially when you were reading and you knew that Elvis was popular with the girls at school, so you wondered why he wanted to spend time with you. Nevertheless, you didn't question it too much, he was friendly enough.

"Sure!" You smiled, turning your head back to your book in your hands, it was Little Women, a book you'd read before but you really couldn't get enough of it, this must've been the fourth, no, fifth time you've read it?

"You're Y/N right?" Elvis interrupted, making you turn your attention back to him.

"Yup. You're Elvis Presley." You said softly.

"You know who I am?"

"Sure, you're in my History class, you sit next to Jonny Albright. You live on the floor above me!" You said gently.

"And you're the girl who loves books ain't ya?" Elvis pointed out, not in a mean way, just observatory as he laid down on the grass, propping his upper body up by leaning on his elbows as you sat with your back leaning against your favourite tree.

"Guess I am." You giggled. "Do you like books?" You asked after realising that Elvis was wanting a conversation.

"Sure I do, maybe not as much as you do, but I like 'em, I see you a lot out here readin' y'know." Elvis said, making you feel an odd sensation for the first time and you blushed a little at him admitting to noticing your habits.

"I love books and stories, my Momma and Papa, they say that it's good to read but I gotta try to make some friends more and I know they're right but I just can't help it, I start readin' a book and I can't put it down until I know what happens at the end!" You said with a soft smile, you did want some more friends but you felt like you found friends in the characters of all the stories you were reading and you didn't actually mind if they weren't exactly real. You looked up at Elvis who was just watching you with sheer interest and intrigue. "You know, my Papa even put me on a ban from buyin' any new books the other week. I just been readin' all my old ones all over again." You confessed.

"So that one ya got there, that ain't a new story?" Elvis chuckled, you were very sweet, he was starting to regret not having approached you sooner. His thoughts about his meetings were already slipping away.

"Nope, this is my favourite book, it's Little Women, have you read it?" You asked.

"No, but I'd like to, when I got some more time maybe." Elvis said, he wasn't exactly sure if he would like to read it, he didn't really know what it was about truthfully, but he was starting to like you a little already, and when your face lit up with a smile at him suggesting he might read your favourite book, he knew he'd said the right thing.

"Oh wow!" You said, excited at the prospect of sharing your love of books with someone. "Well, I'd let ya borrow this copy but my little dog, Basil, he tore out a few bits of a few pages, it's not too bad because I've read this maybe five times or somethin' like that, so I can understand the missin' bits, but it might not make sense otherwise. But maybe, um, maybe you could try the school library! I could even look for you tomorrow at school if ya wanted me to! I really wouldn't mind!" You said, beginning to ramble, but you were just so excited.

"That copy is sure lookin' worse for wear sweetheart." Elvis chuckled, the spine was torn and chunks of pages were missing and you'd sure like a new one but your Papa was right, you couldn't be spending anymore money on new books.

"I know, but it's my favourite story." You said fondly. "The main character, Jo, well she wants to be a writer ya see, and that's kinda what I wanna do when I grow up, maybe." You confessed.

"A writer say?" Elvis said, raising an eyebrow, impressed.

"Uh-huh! A writer! I ain't written much yet but I got dreams and I got ideas and I think maybe, one day, other people would like to read what I got to write." You told him eagerly.

"I'd read anything you wrote darlin'." Elvis said, being simultaneously flirtatious and sincere.

You blushed at the words, no boy had ever said such kind words to you, let alone one as handsome as the one laid out in front of you.

You babbled on some more in the sticky summer air, explaining why you loved certain books, giving Elvis recommendations and answering all the questions he had - which were a lot. It was only when your mother hollered at you from your window that you had to bid Elvis goodbye and scurry in for your dinner. Elvis watched you dash away, turning back whilst running to give him a wave, knowing he was smitten with you.

You were adorable in every sense of the word, cheery, chatty and charming. It didn't hurt that you were awful cute looking too.

After spending all night thinking about your amazing evening with Elvis, you decided to make a beeline for the library during school the next day. You loved the library and librarians and whilst you wanted to be a writer, you sure did want to be a librarian too. The idea of looking after so many books and being surrounded by like-minded bookworms was such an exciting idea for you.

It didn't take you long to find a copy of Little Women and you took it out straight away. You didn't really know where Elvis would hang out but you decided to wander around the hallways looking for him.

You eventually found him, standing next to what you assumed was his locker. He was chatting to some friends who you would later come to know were Billy and George. Tentatively, you approached him, tapping his arm to get his attention. He turned around, looking down at you with a smile when he realised who it was.

Standing next to him, you couldn't help but notice how tall he was compared to you, you felt so little and the way he spoke to you sometimes made you feel that way too.

"M'sorry, I don't wanna interrupt," You said as you realised he was in the middle of a conversation.

"Not interrupting anythin' important sweet thing," Elvis said, making you blush at the pet name. "Billy, George, I'll meet ya at gym." He said, dismissing them before turning his attention back to you.

"I just went to the library, they had a copy of Little Women, well actually they had three copies, can you believe it!?" You enthused, making Elvis chuckle at how cute you were. "Well, um, anyways, I got one for ya, I figured you might be busy, my Momma said last night that your Momma told her that you got a lotta meetin's and stuff so I thought I'd get ya this! You don't gotta read it but it's real good!" You explained, trying to catch your breath from speaking so quickly.

You were a little nervous in front of him and you weren't sure why, he was very attentive in the short time you'd spoken to him, he didn't make you feel bad for being a bookworm, so you were a little confused at your feelings. You supposed you just didn't want to bore him.

"Slow down lil' mama, you gotta catch some air honey." Elvis laughed at your rambling and you giggled. "But that's awful thoughtful of ya honey. Y'know what I'm gonna do?" Elvis said, as you shook your head, waiting to find out. "I'm gonna come join ya after school by your favourite lil' tree and read some of this with ya, if that's okay of course, I know it's ya favourite lil' spot." Elvis said, as you placed the copy in Elvis' large hands.

"Of course it's okay Elvis! I'd really like that y'know! Oh! It will be like a mini book club, kinda! I always wanted to go t'one of them! We could talk about our favourite characters! I mean ya already know that mines Jo, but you might have a different favourite, I like Laurie a lot too, actually, I kinda like all the characters in a way!" You babbled, beside your little self with joy at the prospect of Elvis reading with you.

"This is awful kind of ya, baby." Elvis acknowledged.

He really was taken aback at your gesture. Lately, he'd been in many situations where people were looking to see what they could get out of him and he was finding it difficult to trust people and accomodate everyones expectations of him. It seemed like you were something of a little guardian angel, finding him at just the right time, with no bad intentions, just a whole lotta love.

"S'okay! You got three weeks until I gotta give it back or renew it but Barbara, the librarian, she's real nice and she lets me keep 'em for longer sometimes, especially when they're my favourites, so, um, so you don't gotta read it right away or nothin'!" You insisted, not wanting to pressure him.

"Thank you, Y/N, I mean it, this is awful kind. I gotta get t'gym, but I'll catch ya by your tree?" Elvis checked, he really wanted to spend his time with you. You were oh so bright and bubbly and it just radiated off you, onto him.

"Sure! Bye Elvis!" You beamed, waving at him again cutely, dashing off, not wanting to waste any of your recess time away from your books.

Elvis watched you leave once again and he shook his head, he was falling and falling hard.

Like clockwork Elvis met you by your tree. You were dressed in your little linen white dress, a smock scarf around your hair, protecting your head from the beaming sun and your bare feet with rested on the cool grass as the sprinklers would dust you with droplets of water, instantly cooling you down from the heat. You were practically in heaven, but the heat was a little much for you, even though you usually loved it. It had just been a tough day of classes, you were finding them a little harder as they went on, so you'd concentrate extra hard, giving you a bit of a headache. Mixed with the head, you were finding the words on the page a bit challenging to focus your attention onto.

"Hey darlin, how's ya book comin' along? Think you can guess the ending yet?" Elvis teased, knowing you'd read the book a million times over already.

"Can't really focus, my head kinda hurts." You admitted, feeling kinda frustrated. All you'd been looking forward to during those difficult classes was coming to your tree to read and now your head wasn't letting you.

Instantly, Elvis' protective and attentive attitude kicked in, he was already feeling attached to you and he just wanted to make you feel better.

"Shit honey, can I make you feel better? Can I get ya anythin'? You want some lemonade doll? My Momma just made a whole jug, it's real nice, a bit sweet but you'd like it." Elvis said, suddenly quite worried about you.

You couldn't help but softly giggle at his reaction. You hadn't actually heard anyone you knew curse before, you'd heard strangers do it but never someone you were friends with. "It's okay Elvis, just a little headache from school and the sun s'all. I just wish I could focus on my book, I'd been looking forward to it all day." You said, gazing up at him, admiring the golden glow the sun was giving him.

Elvis instantly removed the light jacket he had on, he didn't need it in this heat anyway. You watched him curiously as he draped it over one of the branches of the tree, offering you a decent sized patch of shade near where you were sitting. Elvis moved to sit down by you, taking the copy of Little Women that you'd got him earlier in the day, with the patch of shade covering his lap.

"Here, lie down honey, it'll help stop the headache if ya rest, you can put ya head on my lap like it's a pillow or somethin', so it's in the shade. Y'know if it's a bit cooler, it'll help stop the pain?" Elvis cooed. "And I can read the story to ya, as long as ya don't mind me startin' from the beginning?" He quizzed.

You felt those funny feelings coming back into your body again, making you feel happy, fuzzy and confused all at the same time. You obediently laid down, resting your head in Elvis' lap as he smiled lovingly down at you. You'd never been so intimate with a boy before, but you felt like you'd known Elvis so much longer than just a mere 24 hours, and Elvis felt the same way too.

The pair of you had such a kinship already that it was hard not to feel utterly relaxed in each others company.

"See? Not so bad is it?" Elvis said, tenderly brushing some hair away from your face that had clung to your temples from the summer air.

"It's nice." You said quietly.

You turned your head to look out at the lawn, watching as the sprinklers periodically spun around, hydrating the surrounding area. It was relaxing to watch as you listened to Elvis' deep voice reading you your favourite story.

You never wanted the moment to end, you finally found a friend who wanted to love everything you loved, and you were in nothing short of paradise.

It was near the end of Chapter 2 that you dozed off in the golden, evening sun, the droplets from the sprinklers hitting your exposed, tanned legs as well as the white little dress you had on, making your thighs appear through the damp wet fabric.

Elvis stumbled on his words after his eyes caught the sight, you were everything he wanted and he wanted all of you.

He paused, noticing the way that your chest rise and fell peacefully as you slept, completely relaxed and headache-free after everything Elvis had done for you. Elvis continued reading the book in silence, enjoying the story and realising why you loved it so much.

It wasn't until a while later that your Momma hollered for you yet again, signalling that your supper was ready, that Elvis pried you awake, your cute little whines making him smile.

"Aw, I'm sorry lil' mama, but you gotta go feed that belly of yours." Elvis chuckled softly, as you pushed yourself up from his lap, a grumpy yet adorable little pout plastered on your face from being woken.

"I gotta go already?" You mumbled sadly, realising you'd drifted off during your time with Elvis.

"Afraid so baby, but we can do this again tomorrow, we can do it whenever you like, kid." Elvis insisted, hoping that you'd ask him to spend every waking second with you.

You nodded, rubbing your eyes.

"You feelin' better now darlin'?" Elvis checked and you gave him another sleepy nod of confirmation.

"Uh-huh. Wanna stay with you." You said shyly.

"I know doll, I wanna stay with you too, you gotta go get your food though, otherwise you won't have any energy to read all your stories." Elvis said and you nodded, knowing he was right. "C'mere." Elvis said gently, opening his arms, indicating for you to let him give you a cuddle - one that you needed right now.

Despite being hesitant, you'd never actually given a boy your age a cuddle, you molded yourself into his arms, relaxing with a soft sight, inhaling his scent of Old Spice aftershave.

"Catch ya later, kiddo." Elvis smiled, kissing the top of your head, making those funny little feelings escalate.

"Ba-bye Elvis." You said, adorably, making Elvis' heart flutter. You were just precious.

Days turned into weeks, and every day after that you and Elvis would meet outside Lauderdale Courts, reading and chatting. He wouldn't often say much, he just loved listening to you enthusiastically babbling away at the current book you were reading. He was impressed at the speed of your reading, you could put away a short novel in an afternoon sometimes and Elvis would try to keep up with you but you'd read more than anyone else he knew.

He loved listening to you every day until you were called in for your dinner. His feelings for you were growing stronger with every word that came out of your mouth and the same went for you, you figured you maybe had a crush on Elvis and you really did hope that he liked you back. He'd never made you feel like a weirdo for being a bookworm, in fact he tried to emulate your passion, just to be able to spend time with you which you thought was awful sweet of him.

You would both look forward to seeing each other in the late afternoons every day, watching the clocks go by in the classroom and counting down until you saw each other. You'd even started walking home together, sometimes Elvis would even drive you if he'd gone for another meeting, which was a special treat for you.

It wasn't until a couple of months later in mid-July that Elvis finally mustered up the courage to ask you a question that had been on his mind after your head hit his lap on that second day, all those weeks ago.

"Y/N?" Elvis said, taking the book that you were reading out of your hands and placing it down on the grass. Elvis was sat against the tree, with his legs opened wide so you could sit in between them and rest your back against his chest.

"Hey!" You said at him taking away your book, you were just getting to the good part.

"I gotta question for you, it's serious now, I'll give you your book back in a minute but you gotta listen to me carefully honey." Elvis said as you sat up and turned around so you could look directly at him, curiosity painting your face.

"What's wrong? Did I give ya a bad book? I can replace it if ya want? Or are you sick? That can happen with the heat remember! I can try and make some shade if you are, or get you some water! You shouldn't be out here if ya-"

"Baby, I'm okay, you just gotta listen, okay?" Elvis said, taking your little hands in his large ones as you watched him intently. Elvis sighed deeply, his nerves getting a little better of him. "Here goes nothin'" He said, partially to himself. "Y/N, I wanna take you to the dance next week. What do ya say?" Elvis said, watching for your reaction.

You felt your heart skip a beat. You had decided you weren't going to go, even if secretly you'd wanted to. You knew it'd be filled with couples and you hadn't really wanted to surround yourself with that if you were going to be on your lonesome.

"Can I bring my book?" You asked shyly and Elvis beamed.

"Of course ya can, sweet thing. Can I take that as a yes?" Elvis chuckled, petting your soft hair.

"Uh-huh!" You giggled, biting your lip excitedly. "Oh boy, I've never been to a dance, I know there was a Spring one last year, but I just didn't have anyone t'go with, and I kinda, actually, no I wanted to go real bad to this one! And I didn't really wanna go with just anyone either ya see, but I just would've thought you would've had loads a girls to ask, I see girls tryna talk to you all the time at school! Especially Sue-Ellen, she sure does like you, sometimes it makes me feel-" You paused, realising you were rambling and maybe saying just a little too much.

"Makes you feel like what, little un'?" Elvis asked curiously. He thought Sue-Ellen was nice, sure, but he and her only talked so much because the pair of you were partners for a Lab test.

"No, it's silly, forget it." You said, brushing it aside.

"No, I wanna know Y/N. How does it make you feel when you see me talkin' to other girls, tell me." Elvis insisted, starting to enjoy seeing you wriggle around. He knew what your answer would be, he just really needed to hear it.

"It makes me, I don't know, I guess, it just makes me sorta wish that, sorta wish that it was me that you were talkin' to," You said gently, looking down at your lap as your sun-kissed cheeks started turning a little pink. "It makes me sorta, maybe, jealous." You practically whispered, but Elvis heard every word.

Elvis took your cheeks in his large hands, lifting your head so you would look directly at him.

"You know you're my number one girl, don't ya?" Elvis grinned, making your tummy do somersaults. You recoiled with giggles at the words, you were just putty in his hands at this point.

You ended up chatting away as the evening drew on, telling Elvis about the perfect dress that your Momma wore to her own dance, you'd actually tailored it a little so it would fit you and be able to attach a corsage onto it.

When your Momma called for you at the same time as usual, you gave Elvis a hug, telling him that you couldn't wait to go the dance with him and you thanked him for asking you.

You glanced at him momentarily before pushing yourself forward and placing your pink lips on his cheek, giving him a gentle kiss. It was the most forward thing you'd ever done but you felt so comfortable around Elvis that you didn't mind.

Elvis was a little stunned, he watched you as you giggled and crawled off his lap, running towards your Momma with bare feet on the grass and your dress flying up every now and again, exposing your thighs as usual.

Elvis would be the first to admit that he'd never experienced love in a romantic way but after today, he was sure that had changed.

When the dance finally came around, you were naturally a little anxious, even skittish, constantly fiddling with the corsage that Elvis had given you, as well as the lilac tulle of your dress. Elvis kept reassuring you throughout the evening that not only did you look completely beautiful but that you were both going to have a great time and that there was nothing to worry your pretty little head over.

"Y/N, I wanted to give ya somethin, it's nothing big or anythin' but I wanted you to have it." Elvis said before the pair of you arrived at the dance.

He placed a familiar shaped item in your hands, wrapped up in brown paper with a wonky bow on it. You glanced up at him, looking for him to give the go-ahead to open it, which he did. You didn't waste any time in taking off the wrapping, only for a gasp to leave your pink lips.

"Elvis..." You said, little tears pooling in your eyes, touched at the gift. It was a brand new, latest edition of Little Women, one that didn't have half of the pages ripped out.

"Is it the right one? The lady in the store said it was the best one they had, and I know you love that raggedy old one ya got but I thought my little girl should have one that at least has all the pages intact." Elvis said, hoping that you'd love it.

You'd never had anyone do anything so thoughtful for you before. You looked up at him with your glassy eyes and he immediately cooed. "Oh baby, don't cry now, it's just a book." Elvis said, thumbing away the tears.

"It's more than a book, Elvis, it's the nicest thing anyones ever done for me." You told him with a wobbly voice. Elvis leaned over and kissed your cheek, making you blush. Little did you know, that Elvis went to the store the day after he'd met you and bought that book for you, all those weeks ago. "And I can fit it in my purse!" You said with pride, showing Elvis who laughed at how adorable you were, as you looked forward to taking it to the dance.

The pair of you began to make your way to the dance, with Elvis holding your hand tightly, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand soothingly as you entered the dance hall. Your eyes lit up as you looked around, admiring how beautiful and pretty everyone looked as well as all of the pretty decorations.

"Wow..." You gasped as Elvis chuckled, looking down at you and watching your reaction. "I feel like a real grown up Elvis." You whispered to him.

"Not quite lil' mama, the fruit punch ain't got no alcohol in it just yet." Elvis laughed. "Wanna dance with me?" Elvis offered, leading you to the little dancefloor.

The pair of you slow danced to the music, Elvis occasionally pulling a funny face to make you do that giggle that he would now hear in his dreams, he loved it so much. You felt your spine tingle as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Neither of you noticed all the eyes on you, the odd pairing of the up and coming rock 'n' roll star student and his little, bubbly, bookworm, but as the night went on, everyone got a little more used to it and no-one even noticed when you two headed off in search of the library in your party dress and Elvis' smart jacket, desperate to curl up together with that sparkly new copy of Little Women that you'd stashed in your bag.

[aconflagrationofmyown]

|| Memphis to Fort Hood

Timeline alterations: Spring of 1958

Theme: THAT ASKED FOR BABY ANNOUNCEMENT, sorta

So, so many thanks to all my darlings who I throw my ideas at and they in turn bolster my resolve and refine my daydreams.

Warnings: good ole fashioned 50’s misogyny, Elvis being rather poorly represented? -for the reasons of this being written as critique?…nothing explicit but themes of free use, subspace, paranoia and eating disorders (which ends up being morning sickness so no really big deal there, just wanted to be careful.

A note on the style of this particular interlude: One of my obsessions with this universe has been using multiple points of view and narrative styles, ultimately adding to my own expansive delusion that this AU really was the verified version of his life. 🤓 And see, if it had been we would have magazines and newspapers, speciations and interviews galore, all of which I’ve enjoyed fabricating in the past and intend to continue. Now I’ve cooked up something else, a faux cultural study on what would have been the massively studied and criticized impact of a couple this peculiar and idolized -Mrs. Presley and Other Martyrs:

Strangely, if one looks for the first cracks in a marriage that outlasted five decades, nine children, assasination attempts, adultery, rock n’ roll and the most publicized divorce of its time, one might find that the first fissure had begun to open by the Presley’s third week anniversary. Outlasted, that’s the key. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t things to outlast. The old curse of stepping outside Graceland and finding trouble found them early on, as did their tenacity to simply ignore and surmount the witch’s brew of criticism, ego and exhaustion.

It took 38 hours by train to reach Fort Hood from Memphis Tennessee in the year 1958. Time enough for legends to be made. Dynamics to be established. A couple dozen demons to resurface.

And impressions to be formed. Lasting impressions of herself by the scrutinizing public that Elaine Presley reportedly never forgave Elvis for -a remarkable instance of a grudge in a woman so notoriously absolvent.

At the start of the journey she boarded the train at Memphis a sheltered girl tucked under the arm of the most famous man on earth, her own face captured without obstruction for the first time by the press, wedding band flashing and virginal blush staining her features at the attention and the queries hurled at her. The most envied woman in the country hadn’t known she was wanted a month before and by the time she stepped off in Texas, Mrs Presley was the doe eyed subject and demure recipient of a hundred varied opinions, editorials, fan tokens and bouquets.

What her rushed wedding may have slighted Elaine Presley of in terms of a bridal fuss, this dutiful journey made up for in sheer abundance of notoriety. What her sequestered honeymoon had sheltered her from in terms of being tabloid fodder was more than made up for on the trip as Elaine Presley got paraded on the train balcony at each stop along the route by her beaming groom:

A sauve cad in a uniform who beamed at the crowd with a cocky leer that suggested much in regards to his reserved bride and was in stark contrast to the sober and tear streaked boy he’d been when he came up this way to say goodbye to his mama weeks before. This little couple and their little rebellion of a marriage was manic in appearance and in gaiety, and even the most charitable of well-wishers found the occasion they were celebrating a bit forced, a bit dire, a bit off kilter for something as sanctified and sober as matrimony.

This was compounded by the new groom’s attitude which seemed as eager to display the varied trousseau he decked this almost catatonically pliant girl in -with a change nearly on the hour- as he was to introduce his new wife to his nation’s worth of fans that crowded the rails as they hustled south.

As Hedda Hopper unapologetically noted in her column that week “…it makes a person wonder if this sensational canary of an entertainer is too proud of having conquered a sensible girl child into being his wife to realize he just married himself off the market. America’s daydream is now a taken man and no one in the nation seems ready for that, least of all him.”

Married, to Elvis Presley, was perhaps more of a reality than Miss Hopper and her column gave him credit for, although the old spinster might’ve been aghast if she knew what marital duties the young star prioritized over others. The folks who caught sight of the flushed couple at each stop might’ve had a suspicion. Certainly Elvis’ ever present entourage of childhood friends and relations couldnt hope to be left in the dark.

Even if the close quarters on the route, the thin traincar doors and shared meals were not enlightening enough, Elvis Presley gloated too much in being a new husband to possibly retain any mystery. Love drunk and determined to stay so lest panic or grief overtake him, his friends recall his unreasonable amounts of excitement and generosity in detail regarding his “lil wife.”

-And his skills as a lover, of course.

Nothing had changed for Elvis from his time on the road with these naughty friends of his except that now all his famous drive and obsession was channeled towards one rather overwhelmed teenage girl. One who had, in typical 1950’s fashion, promised to obey his every whim. Turns out, trapped in a train car for over a day with an insomniatic sex addict uncovers an astounding amount of whims that their more placid honeymoon at Graceland had kept at a low simmer.

Whether tamed by the supposed influence of his mother’s ghostly presence at Graceland or whether in a fit of gentlemanly restraint for an untried bride, Elvis Presley had, by all accounts, played the gentleman while at home in those first weeks of marriage. While happy and smug -so much so that the story went that when the colonel appeared at Graceland to assure himself that the secret wedding hadn’t happened, one look at Elvis and the girl on his lap assured him it had both occurred and been consummated- he had nevertheless been considerate, gentle and almost tutoring in aiding Elaine to adjust to her new life.

Trapped in the claustrophobic buzz of the train car speeding south to a life of regimented discipline and obedience in the army, the antsy rebel in him found his boredom and dread peaked beyond endurance and distracted himself with the new and ever captivating charms of his new wife.

Elvis Presley with a goal could be a dedicated and diligent man but without one he was a chaotic force of nature that could catch all those around him in a whirlpool of fun or an avalanche of insanity. Pursuing Elaine Presley had brought out the best in him and so intently did he peruse her with every traditional method of wooing a typical southern girl, that she had quite forgotten the more frightening aspects of his temperament that she and her father had been witness to before. She could be forgiven for thinking he had matured past such outbursts and compulsions he had been thrall to in his early fame. Subdued by grief and spurred by ambition to have her, he had been impressively restrained upon his return to Memphis and driven by a rededication of his life to the old values of his mama’s ambitions for him, he had managed to continue it into the first days of marriage.

The upcoming reality of life within the rigorous confines of Fort Hood was too strong for such flimsy good intentions. As was the oppressive reality of his mother’s permanent absence in his life. His love, which had always been a somewhat smothering thing that required as much as it gave, was needy yet inexpressive in those early days and according to his daughter Ella, who divulged some of her mother’s confidences in her own book, Elaine was yet to learn how terrified her young husband was of a future that most would have envied.

Scared of being alone, yet suspicious that his presence was merely being tolerated, young husband Elvis Presley had every hope he could train a young girl by conjugal powers alone to be loyal to him where others failed. In a fit of hubris and optimism, he chose for this amorous experiment the one woman in town who admitted to not being in love with him. This fear and frustration expressed itself in an appalling physical demand on her bodily attentions. One that their fellow train car occupants could not ignore yet found themselves incapable of preventing, bound by the antiquated respect of a husband's rights.

“I swear he’d not leave her alone for a full hour,” Red West recalled in his book, reflecting on the times he spent in the Presley’s entourage, “and he’d be back there with her for hours at a time, then pop out and then right back again. If he couldn't sleep then he didn’t see why she should.”

Billy Smith, his cousin and a man adamant about staying on Mrs. Presley’s good side over the years, would only admit discreetly, “He was utterly in love with her, had been for years and couldn’t quite pace himself once he got the green light, so to speak. He adored her and was in a bit of a state of shock that she was even better than he’d hoped, she was like the first thing to exceed his high expectations. She was very genuinely kind to him and he ate it up. On the train ride he was bored and it was like taking a bored kid to their favorite sweet shop. And Elvis Presley had a big ole bank account to cash in.”

Big enough, apparently, that by lunch of that day the ever proper young Mrs Presley, in her perfectly starched new outfits and watery lined eyes, was having trouble sitting still at table, much to the comment of guests and friends. After excusing herself early she went back to their suite. Elvis was seen following within minutes. Thirty minutes later the train stopped and Elaine Presley, in a fresh outfit and an uncharacteristic wobble to her stride was paraded by her husband on the balcony to the roar of envious onlookers.

The train moved on, she excused herself again, as did he moments later.

“We could hear them, it became like road noise.” Red West, long used to Elvis’ various rendezvous while on the road in the past took this marital overindulgence in stride, “Initially it was kinda a laugh and a grin about it with all the folks in the dining car, but then we could hear her tiring out, and he’d keep at it and it got a bit annoying, all her pleading and him going on about bein’ able to do anything he pleased with her. He’d come out and brag to us when we told him they were being loud.”

“He was very proud of how sensitive she was,” Joe Esposito does not bother to sound impressed himself when relating this confidence, “he’d tell us how she was a squirter and she got all sensitive real fast before he was even close to done and he’d just have to hold her and make her let him finish, sometimes make her keep going when she swore she couldn’t. He said he was training her to respond the way he wanted. It didn’t occur to him maybe she was made different than the ones he’d been with before, he just thought he was a damn good husband. Figure she just wanted a nap and maybe some Vaseline. Nobody dared to tell him to give her a break.”

Ultimately Vernon Presley ventured to do just that at breakfast the next morning, after his daughter in law had skipped dinner the night before and breakfast that day from a ubiquitous headache that was likely not an ache in the head at all.

“He was so timid about it as Elvis was in a mood, worn out and hadn’t slept, stabbin’ his eggs like they’d done him wrong.” Lamar Fike remembers the incident, “Vernon just spoke up real gentle like and says ‘son, why don’t you go easy on the little lady, she’s real fresh and delicate,’ Elvis just glared at him so he tried jokin by sayin’ something like ‘you got the rest of your lives for this, don’t gotta cram it all in today.’ Elvis didn’t even try to act dumb, he just got mad and stood up from the table and said ‘daddy, you mind your own business, reckon I don’t need lessons for how to take care of a wife, not from you leastwise.’ And that was a low blow, you could see it on Vernon’s face and like I said, Elvis stood up, with his napkin still tucked in his shirt neck, and went back there to her again like he was makin’ love to spite his old man. Ya just don’t tell Elvis what to do with what’s his.”

Charlie Hodge wasn’t there and in an admirable display of keeping in his lane only commented that, “Elvis told me they danced a lotta the way, had the old records on, trying to keep the cramp away. He’d get antsy on trips.”

Marty Lacker had the decency to at least be sheepish and a little apologetic about the times when relating his version of events, “Just a different time back then, ya know? Didn’t occur to us to step in. We’d say a thing or two but ultimately that’s between a husband and wife to sort out and back then wives just didn’t fuss. It all worked out, they sorted it. Elaine never breathed a word of anything and we wouldn’t think of saying anything to her. Not even after the little emergency, you just don’t talk about that stuff. It’s not fitting. Even Elvis knew that, he didn’t appreciate the advice or adminitions from his daddy. Braggin’ between boys us one thing but talkin’ about what goes on between a man and his wife beyond that it’s, it’s just, it’s not fittin. It’s just not a thing to be discussed, you know? Different times, man.”

The little emergency in question was a case of Elvis bursting out of the train car an hour or so after lunch on the second day in search of his paternal grandmother, old Dodger as the family called her, full of consternation that his young bride was unresponsive.

“I really think he rode her silly, that’s all there was to it.” Joe shrugs at this bold diagnosis, “He’d brag about how out of it she’d get when he would start again after she thought he was done. Said she’d space right out and start shakin’ and shivering and get plain stupid. I think he liked that, makin’ a smart girl feel dumb. He’d dress her up and redo her makeup and take her out like that in front of fans, and they all got the impression she was a little bozo. Then I guess he just kept at it one time too long.”

Elvis told Dodger that his wife was not fully concious, although his heightened concern was less regarding her insensibility than the fact that neither a light smack to the cheek nor a resumption of activities on his part could rouse Elaine like it had on previous occasions. Vernon dunked her head in a bowl of ice water with no success, Billy tried to give her aspirins but she wasn’t awake to swallow them down.

Dodger prescribed a drink of water for the young girl, a cold compress to the nether regions and a nap -sans husband. Disgruntled but terrified of losing yet another woman in his life, and with his own cheek stinging from his grandmother's wrath, Elvis Presley secluded himself to playing cards with the boys in the smoking lounge for the remaining three hours of the train ride while his grandmother watched over his bride and her precariously suggestible headspace.

“ ‘I done told her again and again to hold it if she gets so excitable after she comes that she can’t stand to take me longer. But she’s a hair trigger, couple stokes and she’s off, keeps comin’ all the same then acts like I’m skinnin’ her when I keep goin. I gotta finish man, what else am I supposed to do?” Red recalls Elvis bemoaning his bride’s hyper responsiveness like a martyr recounting his sentence -while wearing his signature sulky expression that did nothing to hide the smug pride beneath.

By the time Elaine Presley wobbled off the train onto the platform at Killeen Texas and stiff smilingly took her seat beside Elvis in a taxi to their little crackerbox house on base, the world at large had a firm opinion that the new Mrs Presley was a pretty little thing with dark features and a rosebud mouth, a nice figure and sweet charm but possessing a vacant sorta look to her. It suggested a gullibility so utterly untrue to her real nature that three decades worth of wit and shrewdness could hardly undue their initial impression of her.

Elaine Presley would ultimately have her revenge for such a first impression but it would cost her much in the process and Elvis Presley even more.

The buzz of press did not decline upon her arrival. With Private Presley busy soldiering all day, it fell to his young wife to sort the intricate social circle of his entourage and fellow soldiers, to manage the fanmail and contracts as well as set up house as best she could in such impermanent lodgings. All these precarious duties were stalked and documented beyond all sense, photographs of her and her choice of groceries dutifully printed for readers across the country to guess at what she planned to feed their idol for dinner. If the sharp glint in her eyes, captured on occasion when the intrusion became absurd, hinted at something beyond the vacant and ravished doll of the train ride, no one was eager to investigate. A sharp set to the mouth or a dangerous glitter in the eye got one called a bitch and it was better to be vacuous as a woman than to be venomous. So Elaine was caught smiling with her vegetables and spending her afternoons baking beneath a Texas sun while chatting with snide fellow housewives.

It was the first bootcamp for a lifelong grueling ordeal that Elaine Presley submitted to with grace and tenacity.

If her wit and her marital irregularities were glossed over by the papers in their eagerness to find the noble idyll amongst the immoral muck of rock and roll, what did not go unnoticed was the increasingly wane aspect of what should have been a rosy and glowing young wife. Shortly after arriving in Texas, Elaine’s already strained nerves seemed to have frazzled beyond small fits of fainting and what was once a private display of weariness kept between her and the implacable Dodger. Soon it became bouts of vomiting and exhaustion beyond any reasonable excuse.

The public noticed her figure grow slight and frail, as did Elvis. No longer was she slight but sickly instead, and a milky complexion was now waxy and unbecoming in contrast to her dark hair. The public were concerned for her, not for her health so much as for the future of the readership should her picturesque ordeals unravel further.

Battling his own preoccupation and exhaustion in the hard crucible of army bootcamp, Elvis’ one solace was the charming little haven he had created for himself with a wife and domesticity shipped in like so many plates and doilies. When this fairytale grew pale and bony and even the most cheerful of liars couldn’t convince him his “Tinkerbell” was fine, Elvis Presley grew increasingly paranoid of something fatal having cursed the women in his life. Frustrated at Elaine for allowing herself to grow so weak, his friends recall his behavior towards her vasciaiting from aching tenderness to angry remonstrances at her to eat and to rest and take care of herself. He even paced his own indulgences and begged her not to bring him the usual treats she’d sneak into barracks during the heat of afternoon. He pampered and berated, prayed and cursed.

None of these precautions were sufficient to build her up and alarmed beyond any reassurance, Elvis Presley packed his young bride into a car in the early summer of their first marriage and, having a five hour furlough from the army, drove her himself into the nearby hospital. The statement tossed to the press waiting outside was mild sinus congestion.

Twenty minutes later these two world wide famous young adults stumbled out in a daze of knowledge that they were about to be parents for the first time.

A severe case of twins -and the rigorous discipline of making them- having caused all the raucous.

No longer scared of abandonment, imminent loss or rebellion on his wife’s part, Elvis Presley softened considerably in the next months, the looming likelihood of a separation with his deployment softening him even further. It was the first case of children saving -and complicating- one of the most volatile and devoted couples of the 20th century.

By the first few weeks of the second trimester, Elaine Presley was both filled out enough and sufficiently cheery to regain the accolades lost to her by the press during her first. Finding few friends to be had amongst jealous soldiers' girlfriends and snooty Sargeant’s wives, as well as having been abandoned by most childhood companions after becoming mistress of Graceland, Elaine, never to be out maneuvered by bad luck, turned those publicized grocery store runs into social occasions, her growing belly eliciting advice and solicitations from wise old Texan grandma’s and rancher’s wives.

Accompanied by the stoically indomitable Dodger, Elaine could be found at geriatric swim classes at the local pool in a bid to stay cool during the heat of summer, at smoky poker games at Billy Bob’s honky tonk where she was the lone abstainer from the free flowing bourbon and became winner of a mechanical bull riding competition against a Navy Pilot.

It was a win for the infantry that night and even Elvis drank a cold one in celebration of her winnings that she spent on quenching the Hell on Wheels squadron at the adjacent saloon. Those Sargeant’s wives got somehow even more acrid after that.

Whether there was a correlation between this heated ride-off and said Navy Pilot’s face ending up black and blue the next day from some jealous young husband’s fist, was anyone's conjecture. Either way, Elvis Presley was likely too busy for such petty displays of insecurity, he was hiding in the lavatory most times to get away from his recently energized and insatiable young wife whose visits to Fort Hood soon became a byword and euphemism for something else besides visitation.

Altogether the Presley’s in Texas was an eclectic and occasionally damaging PR debut, but not without its merits.

The nation decided the new Mrs. Presley may have been a little short in the smarts department but she made pregnancy look fun again and that was rather charming and not a little rebellious, as was unapologetically marrying Elvis Presley right from under their noses. And Elvis? Well, it would be two long years before the world got any candid, civilian, unrepentant opinion out of Private Presley.

Hope you enjoyed! 💋

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