#elvis asks

[doll-elvis]

have you ever read child bride by suzanne finstead? do you find it accurate.

thank you very much for this ask ꨄ︎!!

I have indeed read "Child Bride” and as for its’ accuracy I wouldn't go as far to say it's entirely inaccurate but I do have several bones to pick with Suzanne Finstad as a biographer as I believe she has let her bias (obviously not liking Priscilla) get in the way of her better judgment, which in turn, has corrupted the overall validity of her book. For example, giving Currie Grant a platform to tell his version of events regarding Elvis and Priscilla in Germany, including a claim so egregious that I truly have trouble understanding why so many in this fandom praise this book 😭

I think a lot of Elvis fans consider/recommend “Child Bride” as the antithesis to Priscilla’s “Elvis and Me” which is fair considering Finstad highlights some very valid criticisms against Priscilla i.e her hiring a second, much more aggressive, lawyer to get more money out of Elvis, and her introducing her family (Lisa Marie and later on Navarone) to the “church” aka cult of Scientology etc. etc.

- however -

The book as a whole comes at the expense of Elvis and what I mean by that is that Suzanne Finstad is not someone who has his best interest at heart (I mean look at what she has said in some of these recents documentaries about Elvis) and in order to push her narrative that Priscilla was some fourteen-year-old s*xual deviant, she has made some incredibly inflammatory statements about their relationship, and it literally starts with the title of her book (referring to Priscilla as Elvis’ “child bride”)

And the main reason as to why I cannot comprehend how fans praise this book is that Finstad goes with the story that Currie Grants tells, which includes him saying that Elvis (24) and Priscilla (14) were having penetrative intercourse after their 3rd or 4th date ⬇️

excerpt is from “Child Bride” by Suzanne Finstad

So this is why I tend to cringe when I see other fans praise this book… I know it’s not their intention but they are inadvertently promoting a falsehood that says Elvis was committing statutory r*pe against a fourteen year old Priscilla

Not only does that go against what Priscilla and others have said about the physical relationship she had with Elvis in Germany, but it goes against the pattern that Elvis followed for almost every single (long-term) relationship prior to Priscilla and even after

A girl that Elvis deemed “special” or in other words- good enough to marry- was not a girl that Elvis was going to have penetrative s*x with, especially not when he had the more worldly starlets of Hollywood and the showgirls of Germany and Paris at his disposal

PRISCILLA PRESLEY: “In the past, he said that he wanted a virgin (to marry)”

DEBRA PAGET: “He always said he’d marry a virgin”

LAMAR FIKE: “Elvis respected virginity. He used to tell Alan, “I’ll never break a virgin. There are too many whores around”

We saw this with Dixie Locke, we saw this with June Juanico and Anita Wood, all of whom, in their many years of dating him never had penetrative s*x

We even saw this with women like Linda Thompson and Ginger Alden who he waited several months with before consummating

So because of that I have an incredibly hard time believing that Elvis would abandon his morals after just 3 or 4 dates with Priscilla, especially when he was having s*x with age appropriate girls like Elizabeth Mansfield, who often took Priscilla’s place in Elvis’ bed after she left

Another issue I have with “Child Bride” is that she has often either misquoted people, or written things that contradict what they have said to other biographers- basically many things haven’t added up when cross referencing between books

I have mentioned this one before but it is just so blatant, that I feel compelled to mention it again ⬇️

So here we have Joe Esposito re-telling a throwaway comment about Priscilla made by Elvis

excerpt is from “Good Rockin’ tonight” by Joe Esposito

And then here we have Suzanne Finstad’s retelling of that comment, where she has misquoted Esposito in order to make Priscilla out to be the s*xual aggressor

excerpt is from “Child Bride” by Suzanne Finstad

Instances like this give me extreme pause when determining if a biographer could be trusted or not- and when I was reading through her book again this comment about Sheila Ryan nearly made me bust out laughing

excerpt is from “Child Bride” by Suzanne Finstad

“Sheila never had an orgasm when she was with Elvis”… like are we talking about the same Sheila Ryan or-? ⬇️

excerpt is from “Baby let’s play house” by Alanna Nash

All in all, “Child Bride” definitely makes for an interesting read (mainly the second half of the book) but it’s one that I will probably never pick up again as I cannot get over Currie Grant’s involvement, especially his claims about Priscilla and Elvis that are completely unfounded

Scandal sells quite frankly and I no longer underestimate what people will say for money, ESPECIALLY when it comes to Elvis- I mean look at the claims made by Dee Stanley who got a whopping $100,000 from the National Enquirer to tell stories about a woman she never even met (Gladys)

So I would not be surprised in the least if Currie has been handsomely compensated for selling his stories to biographers like Finstad, because again, scandal sells, and him approaching Priscilla first isn’t nearly as page-turning as Priscilla offering up s*x in order to meet Elvis

[therealslimshakespeare]

Oh my God Marina I was watching Elvis clips right now and I absolutely HAD to come on here and discuss my never ending, profound love of this man and how thankful I am still to Austin for his portrayal of the man and I am so, so happy Lisa Marie got to see a movie be made of her daddy that she was proud of and she felt depicted him respectfully and well. I have Austin’s Golden Globe speech in my head “you were an icon, and a rebel, and I love you” because Elvis Presley was literally everything. He was the fine print, the first of his kind (one of a kind honestly) and it’s so heartbreaking that because of that there was no correct handling of what occurred in his life. Everything from his mother passing, to his talent being seen as something negative, his relationships, and sadly the power the Colonel held over him. There will never be another Elvis Presley but a lot of stars now have learned and continue to learn from his story and his successes and failures. He is everything. I miss him so much it hurts. The Colonel tries to twist the massive love he had for the fans into the reasoning for his death in the movie but at the same time it is soothing and reassuring that Elvis’s love for us was as prominent and visible as our love for him.

And I wanted to come in here and thank you for allowing us to escape in your writing from Mrs. Elaine Presley to Gigi — all presentations of happy lives the man deserved and nothing less. He was a southern, mama’s boy with a God given talent but he was so much more to the world. I know we’re all currently on different inspirational kicks lately but I also hope so badly we find our way back to our Elvis world of inspiration some day and continue honoring him ♥️

Bri!!

Gosh what a sweet thing to see in my inbox, I could agree more and I’m so happy I was the place you decided to spill all this sweetness and goodness to! Honestly when it comes to the Elvis movie in retrospect I too think so much of Lisa, and how Austin must have been such a comfort and a reclaimer of so much for her. What a gift —and then it spread to all of us.

But yes, bless Elvis and everyone he has touched and connected us to. Is this forage you’re talking about the new stuff Baz promised? I don’t have a platform for it currently so I’m a little out of the loop.

I’m always gonna be so partial to all my first gals. Bless the wives and also- can’t forget Mrs. Crawford 🥰

[atrophyingaphrodite]

This is the most adorable song from Elvis that I've ever heard. You've got to listen to this.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3p4cv_c05I

It’s so adorable! I can just picture him singing this to Lisa; actually, I think I read somewhere he recorded this for her, or at least had that intent in mind 🤍

[bartxnhood]

escort at the oscars | a.b

austin butler x fem!actress!reader

summary: getting lost at the oscar’s wasn’t on your roster. neither was getting austin butlers attention.

warnings: definitely poor representation of the oscars but idc this is just for funsies !

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: omg hi everyone !!! long time no see i know, life has been insane. i know no one will read this but ive had some HUGE life changes. i graduated cosmetology school, officially a nail tech now, yay me !! also, unfortunately, ill be having a hand surgery soon. so, im hoping i can write more before i can’t 😭. thank you to everyone who still supports me even though im not ac active as i used to be. one day i promise ill update regularly !!

a/n2: also, austin in the new bikeriders movie had me in a chokehold. the austin butler renaissance is upon us, people !!! (he’s also my bday twin WOO) and i know austin didn’t win an oscar for elvis but for the sake of the fic he did in this !!

not proofread

requests open

Copyright © 2024 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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since the red carpets were only carpets, you could have sworn they were easy to manage. the theater was only accessible by walking through a line, but that wasn't the case. after only thirty minutes, you had to make a big mistake by trying to use the restroom and ending up opening a broom closet.

“hey,” you heard a voice, and you quickly turned around only to find yourself facing austin. “the ceremony isn’t in the closet, darling.”

“right..” you whisper under your breath and close the door. you smile awkwardly turning on your heels and holding your clutch tightly.

“i was just uh..looking for the restroom but i couldn’t find it” you laugh, looking down and shaking your head, and begin walking away from the boom closet.

austin couldn’t help but chuckle, following behind you while holding his hand behind his back as he walked slowly for you to match his stride.

he could tell that you were an up-and-coming actress, something about the way you carried yourself gave it away, and he could also tell that this was your first time on a red carpet by the way you were clutching your clutch bag so firmly like your life depended on it.

“you look nervous,” he said softly, “it’s your first time on a red carpet, isn’t it?”

you smile sheepishly. “that obvious, huh?” you trail behind austin assuming he is taking you to the restrooms.

“never knew how big these places are” you laugh, holding up the end of your dress so it doesn’t drag.

austin could see how nervous you were by the way you were holding your dress up while you were walking, and he thought that it was adorable, honestly.

he chuckled as you mentioned how big the venue is because you weren’t wrong, it is pretty damn big. “ive been to a few oscars now and i still think the venue is too big,” he said with a laugh, as he walked by your side with that perfect movie star strut.

“which movie are you nominated for?”

you had never been to something like this, and you didn’t even have a premiere for your movie. but somehow, critics loved the movie and now your movie was nominated.

it felt like it happened overnight.

“blue moon” you answer, not expecting him to know it.

the movie was set in the second world war and your character was the spouse of one of the soldiers. after he died, your character joined the war.

it was an underground film, your first lead and you didn’t expect anyone to pick up the movie. but someone did, ended up being shown at a film festival and the critics fell in love with your performance. and that’s how you landed a nomination for best lead actress.

austin’s eyes widened as you mentioned the movie you’re up for, blue moon; he enjoyed that movie, and as he thought about it more he really couldn’t deny that you were fantastic in it.

“no way,” he said in disbelief, “no wonder you’re nominated for best actress, you were incredible in that film.”

“thank you” you nod, noticing you have finally made it to the restrooms.

“and thank you for showing me the way” you chuckle, dropping the train of your dress then stuffing your clutch under your arm and sticking out your hand.

austin takes your hand with a gentle yet firm grip and smiles, nodding. “no problem, glad i could be of help.”

“i’m y/n l/n” you introduced. “it was nice to meet you, austin. thanks for this” you grin, retracting your hand.

“i guess ill catch you later..”

“it was a pleasure to meet you, y/n,” he replied with a smile before watching you walk into the restroom, and he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the door as you disappeared behind it.

he thought you were pretty. very pretty, and he kind of regretted not asking you for your phone number before you disappeared.

so, austin stood there leaning against the wall deciding he would wait on you. just in case you got lost again.

no other reason.

after relieving yourself, you stand in front of the mirror taking in a couple of deep breaths to calm the pounding in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

you open your clutch, picking out a compact and a lipstick. you swipe the color on your lips to touch up the splotches, and quickly powder your face.

you put everything back in your clutch smoothed out your hair and admired your dress.

floor-length satin gown in your favorite color, a ribbed corset look.

“you can do this, y/n/n..” you whisper to yourself then pick up the train of your dress and exit the restroom, hoping you won’t miss the award ceremony.

austin was now pacing in front of the restroom, waiting for you to exit, his eyes fixated on the door, and he found himself running a hand through his styled hair, ruining the gelled look.

he wasn’t sure what had compelled him to wait for you, but here he was, still waiting outside the restroom, tapping his foot anxiously and checking his watch now and then.

austin leaned back against the wall as he waited, trying to look nonchalant as ever, and once the restroom door opened, a soft exhale left his lips.

you let the door shut behind you while smoothing out the front of your dress and began walking down the hallway until you stopped seeing a figure.

you look up from the floor and spot austin, assuming he is waiting for you.

“austin?” you ask softly, taking in a deep breath.

austin’s eyes softened at the sound of his name, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you once he saw you walking towards him, smoothing out the front of your dress and making sure it was wrinkle-free and free of any stains.

“hey,” he replied with a smile and nod, “i was just, uh, making sure you didn’t get lost, again.” austin laughed, looking at you through his eyebrows.

you couldn’t help but chuckle, “no worries, restrooms are pretty simple,” you reply with a toothy grin.

“but, if you wouldn’t mind showing me the way to the theater?” you ask, knowing if you didn’t have the guidance you’d definitely get lost and miss the entire ceremony.

and you didn’t need that kind of embarrassment.

though, deep down you know you wouldn’t win tonight, but still, you wanted to experience being at the freaking oscars!

austin smiled at how eager you were to not get lost again. he chuckled softly as you asked him to guide you to the theater, and he pushed himself off the wall, taking one last look at his watch before walking closer to you.

“and here i was, thinking you’d never ask,” he joked, before holding out his arm for you to grab and wrap your own around.

“don’t wanna risk you ending up in the broom closet again,” he teased.

you drop your head, smiling, and then laugh at his comment about getting lost in the broom closet.

“listen..” you say softly, covering your face with the clutch. “i would say it was one mistake, but with my luck, it’s bound to happen again.”

you carefully take his arm and begin walking towards the theater. you can feel your cheeks warming up.

here you are, lost at the oscar’s and now having the austin butler escort you into the theater.

when you attempted to cover your face with your clutch, he rolled his eyes and gently grabbed it, pulling it away from your face. “no hiding.” he teased.

as you walked side by side, down the halls and towards the theater, austin couldn’t help himself but glance over at you now and then.

he smiled when you laughed at his joke and chuckled even more as you attempted to defend yourself. “just one? you’re sure about that?”

you smile, looking ahead. not being able to look him in the eyes. “no..” you laugh.

“on my first day of filming, i got lost and accidentally locked myself in the hair and makeup trailer” you giggle, recalling one of the most embarrassing moments that’s happened to you. though, this one trumps that.

“no way..” you hear austin laugh wholeheartedly, a sound so beautiful it could turn your legs into jelly.

“yes way” you laugh back, nodding. you weren’t paying attention and almost tripped over the end of your dress.

“here, let me help you with that” austin offers, picking up the train of your dress so you can walk more comfortably.

“see? clumsy.”

austin grins, holding the satin fabric in his hands as you continue towards the theater. “we all have our quirks” he adds. “you’ll warm up to this life, it’ll become easier and if it doesn’t, i’ll help you navigate this journey.” austin spoke without really thinking.

you finally see the two large golden doors which lead into the theater. “ready?” austin grins, raising his eyebrows before opening the door.

when the door opens you’re hit with a soft wind of cool air, the sound of people chattering, and the camera crew getting ready to go live.

“well, let’s hope i can find my seat with ease..” you say walking down the aisle with him towards the seconds for the nominees. “i’ll help,” austin says and begins scanning the row of seats for your name.

y/n l/n

“here you are.” he points to your name plastered on the back of the seat. “right next to mine” he leads you to the two end aisle seats on the front row. your crew sat behind you and austin’s was right next to him.

you were shocked, walking to your seat and letting go of his arm. austin drops the end of your dress gracefully, making sure it doesn’t get dirty.

“what a coincidence, huh?” you take your seat, crossing your legs and placing your clutch in your lap.

austin had what you’d call a shit-eating grin on his face as he sat next to you. “coincidence? or the universe giving us a sign?”

he could tell you were feeling out of place, but he silently tried to make you feel more comfortable by flashing you a reassuring smile.

you shrug, smiling as the staff prepares to go on air. you take in a deep breath, calming your racing heart as you watch the host enter the stage.

“good luck tonight.” austin leans in, whispering. you turn to face him, “you too”. austin winks and then focuses his attention on the stage as the lights dim.

you follow suit, the ceremony officially begins.

a short video montage of all the movies nominated begins to play, and for a second you see yourself.

wow.

after the video, the lights come back on, and out steps the host.

“hello, and welcome to the ninety-sixth oscars, everyone! look at these beautiful faces!”

the room explodes into applause and cheers from the guests.

there’s more to the introduction, bad jokes, awkward laughter, and overall a very, very, long introduction before getting into the awards.

tonight was going to be very long.

“and the nominees for the best lead actor” the host announces, letting a brief video play of all the nominees and their movies.

some actors you knew well, others you didn’t.

“and the oscar goes to..” the host drawls, opening the envelope and a smile appears on her face.

“austin butler!”

the crowd erupts into a roar of cheers and applause, people standing up all around, yourself included. austin stands up hugging his team around him and his friends. he turns to you, smiling as if he won the lottery. “congrats!” you pat his shoulder as he walks past you on stage to accept the award.

“wow..” his deep voice rang through the microphone, looking at the audience and fellow nominees. “i’d uh..wow..all my words are leaving me…i’m standing in front of my heroes. i’m so incredibly grateful to be standing here, i just wanted to say thank you to my team, all the producers, writers, directors, costume, and makeup. everyone. and the presley family for guiding me through this whole process. thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart. and lastly, thank you to all the new people i’ve met” he looks towards you. “i’m so grateful to be standing here. thank you.” he blows a kiss to the crowd before disappearing backstage.

the rest of the male categories went on in between intermissions. many of your favorite actors won, and movies.

then, before you knew it, the female categories were beginning. you saw austin returning to his seat before the nominees were announced.

“now, let’s take a look at the nominees for best female lead role…” the host begins.

like the male category, there are videos of each nominee and then you’re face pops up in a small montage of your movie with your name announced.

austin looked over at you when your face appeared on the big screen, he saw that look in your eyes. he couldn’t describe it. awe? no, it was something more than that. something he had never seen from any of the people he worked with. he had been to many events like this, but you…something about you.

“and the oscar for best female lead role goes too..”

anticipation.

so many great and talented women in this category, that you feel honored to even be considered as good as them.

what if you didn’t win?

but what if you did win? you didn’t even think you prepare an acceptance speech because there is absolutely no way someone like you could-

“y/n l/n! congratulations!”

the world stopped, people around you standing up and applauding. you.

you sat there, mouth agape staring at the stage with your face on the screens like an idiot. your crew grabbing your shoulders to congratulate you as you stand up. hugging some of your crew, then looking at austin wide-eyed. he’s smiling at you, saying something like “i knew you’d win” but you couldn’t be sure, you were in shock.

you begin towards the stage, austin trailing behind you holding your dress so you won’t trip. if there’s one thing austin learned about you tonight, you were clumsy.

you look back, thanking austin with your eyes approach the host, and accept the award.

“oh man..” you begin, feeling tears prickling your eyes. a quiet laugh escapes your throat, looking down at the golden award and then back to the crowd. “i didn’t have a speech prepared, i didn’t expect to win at all. but i wanted to thank everyone who worked on the set of this movie. thank you to the director who saw my indie films and thought i had the talent to portray my character. thank you to my team who always supported me. thank you to my family who always believed in me..who pushed me to work harder..” you sniffle, lip quivering.

“thank you. thank you so much.” you cry. “and thank you to austin, who helped me when i got lost, otherwise i would’ve missed the best moment in my life”. you look towards austin, your teary eyes glittering underneath the lights. the crowd laughs at this, finding it humorous.

austin smiled as he listened to your heartfelt acceptance speech. he couldn’t help but feel proud of you, watching the way you held the award in your hands and thanked everyone who had helped you along the way.

his heart skipped a beat when you mentioned him in your speech. he chuckled softly as the crowd laughed when you joked about getting lost, and he felt a warmth spread through him as he heard you express your gratitude towards him.

“and to all my fellow nominees, i can’t believe im standing in front of you. i’m so honored to be here with you tonight. and i realize i am rambling so i will accept this and go” you laugh, waving to your crew and exiting the stage.

as you walked off the stage, austin stood up and applauded once again, clapping louder than ever before.

the rest of the night continued without fail, the whole thing continued for about three and a half hours. you knew it was going to be long, but you don’t think you’d ever get used to it.

the ceremony ended, leading you and the other winners backstage to get pictures and interviews.

you stand with your friends, who also are a part of your crew. you’re still absolutely shocked. crying on and off as they congratulate you on one of the biggest achievements of your career.

you weren’t aware of austin approaching you until you felt a hand on your lower back. you look over your shoulder and see his baby blues. “austin!” you grin, turning your body toward him. “hi, darling. congratulations.” he says, gesturing to the award in your hand.

“thank you” you bring the award up to your face, grinning like a proud parent. “and congrats to you”

austin nods, looking down at his award. “looks like we both got pretty lucky, huh?”

you nod, agreeing. “i guess so..” you say softly.

you see austin’s eyebrow raise, his eyes dancing over your figure against the wall. you couldn’t quite place what he was thinking. he could be thinking many things, but you wouldn’t know. he was too hard to read, for you at least.

“say, uh..” he smirks, biting his lip. “how would you feel if i asked for your number?” his extra arm came up to the wall beside your head, entrapping you.

oh boy.

you hold the award close to your chest, looking up at him. “well, i’d feel like i’d be dreaming but im not going to say no.” you answer.

“good because i don’t know what id do if you said no” he chuckles, his eyes not leaving yours.

“i’ll call you, we’ll go out sometime. i wanna know more of you. if it’s anything like i saw tonight, i think i might fall in love with you.”

you can feel your ears burning as he speaks, his raspy voice making your legs feel weak. his eyes looking down on you, god. he was driving you insane. his slightly gelled hair, his grey suit, his cologne.

he was so close.

“then i guess you should be ready for that,” you say, smirking.

you heard your name being called, your manager trying to get you for an interview.

you push yourself off the wall, but before you leave you pause. “call me.” you wink and then walk away, leaving austin’s world rocked. never had he met someone like you, never has he been this intrigued and captivated by someone.

thank god he found you when he did.

[tommowluvr]

[floralcyanide]

#9/#17 from smut list 2 & #11 from smut list 1 with Javi from Twisters, I can no longer unsee pre accident Javi not messing around if he was dating someone especially a fellow chaser in that car they borrowed from uni after noticing during rewatch two Kate mentioned they could barely get him to wear pants back then ykyk 😏

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!

(requests are closed for the saturday night sleepover!)

Javi RIvera x Fem!Reader

prompts: 9: car sex, 17: sex while camping, 11: cockwarming after a long day in order to calm down together

a/n: javi was def super horny in college 24/7 you can't change my mind (and probably still is lbr)

For one particular chase, the group decides to make a night out of it and camp after the storm tapers off. The 6 of you camp out in the 4 Runner and the van, as well as a handy tent Jeb had brought, courtesy of his roommate. Kate’s mom had plenty of camping gear that she let all of you use as well, so it was a legitimate setup. Lanterns, a fire, some chairs, and non-perishable food with some sleeping bags and blankets. You and Javi decided to make a pillow fort in the back of the van, Jeb and Kate took the 4 Runner- Addy and Praveen used the tent to sleep in.

This chase was nerve-wracking for sure. A typical EF1 turned into a rowdy EF3 and required the entire team to work together to get back to safety. The group manages to find an area by the lake to camp and attempt to settle down. After a night of going over some data and exchanging ghost stories to ward off the tense vibes, the 6 of you wander over to your respective sleeping areas and crash. Except you and Javi, of course, because Javi doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself, especially when he’s nervous. 

You sigh and roll over, causing Javi’s hand to retract from your thigh, “Are you okay?”

“No,” Javi mutters, moving to lay on his side and facing you, “Are you?”

“No,” you admit, “I’m still kind of anxious.”

You and Javi don’t have to whisper technically, as the van is parked a little ways from the tent and 4 Runner, so the others likely wouldn’t hear your conversation. But the night was still enough that you felt you had to keep your voices down. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Javi asks, rubbing your arm soothingly.

You shrug, “I can think of something else I’d rather do, honestly.”

“Like what?” 

“Put your hand back on my thigh, and I’ll show you what.”

Javi grins from ear to ear at that. He puts his hand back where it was, his palm flat to your skin with his fingers splayed. Only this time, he quickly moves his hand under your shorts to cup your heat. He slips a finger under your underwear, toying with your clit until you’re squirming and growing wet. Javi tests how wet you’ve become with a curious finger.

“I wanna try something,” Javi says, his lips brushing your ear.

“Hmm? What’s that?”

“Get on top for a little while, but don’t move.”

“What, like, fucking you without moving?” you ask.

“Yeah, it’s more relaxing than you think. Now, come on,” Javi pats his thighs as he lays on his back.

You shrug, pulling down your shorts and underwear and setting them aside as Javi pulls his down his legs. As you hover, Javi teases your entrance and clit with the tip of his length before guiding himself inside you. You sigh in contentment as he fills you up nicely. After some adjusting, you manage to sit on top of Javi, him fully sheathed inside your needy cunt. Javi runs his hands along your thighs as you sit still on top of him, watching you with utter endearment. 

“Feel better yet?” you ask, wanting so badly to move.

“Yep,” Javi pops the ‘p’. After a moment of silence, Javi reads your impatient facial expression, “You want to move, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you groan, “But it feels nice not to at the same time. I like being so full of you like this.”

“Maybe if you stay still long enough, I’ll let you move.”

“Deal.”

A few minutes pass and you’re now biting your lip in order not to swivel your hips. Javi chuckles, his hands on your hips. He lifts you up a little, to which you hiss, and then motions for you to drop back down. You let out a quiet, high-pitched moan, your fingers grasping at Javi’s shirt. He feels himself twitch as he bucks into you, wanting to hear you moan like that again. Adjusting yourself to the feeling of moving again, you start riding Javi slowly so you don’t accidentally scream out in pleasure. He feels you clenching around him, signaling you’re close.

“Gonna cum already? Didn’t know you needed me that bad- ow!”

Javi is interrupted by you flicking him on the nipple through his t-shirt, “Just fuck me, Jav. Save your snarkiness for later.”

Javi snaps his hips into you a little faster, matching your hip’s movements. He presses his thumb to your clit, and you come undone, having to shove your fist in your mouth to keep your moans at bay. Since Javi didn’t finish inside you, you offer to get him off quickly before the two of you decide it’s best to go to sleep.

“Go ahead, but I can tell you right now I’m probably just going to bust in your mouth in five seconds.”

[hooked-on-elvis]

Elvis' Sword Cane ⚔️

Elvis On Tour (1972)

Watching the doc for the millionth time and I've only noticed this now. I wondered if EP's cane was actually a weapon... and it looks like I was right. Apparently, all of Elvis' canes were also swords... and he was making it clear onscreen. LOL.

Subtle message: "Don't f*** with me".

Source video: Reddit

Elvis and Vernon Presley in Buffalo, New York. April 5, 1972.

[arealtrashact]

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas...

[purpleskelet0n]

Hello, good people of Tumblr! Don't worry about your "purple skeleton", they're just...taking a break. But in the meantime, your dear friend Elvis is here to answer your most pressing matters, The Inbox is open to all, and perhaps, if Eddie can't handle my adoring fans, they'll let me have my own blog! Chop Chop dearies! Don't keep your Narrator waiting.

(ASK EVENT!! GO TO MY INBOX!! WILL LAST ALL WEEKEND! MAYBE MORE!)

[st4rstudent]

first batch

[doll-elvis]

Remember when I asked if Elcis was into biting others to show affection?

Just saw this on Instagram 👀

oh my goddd, this man was too much I cannot handle it- thank you for sharing because this just became my new favorite еlvis anecdote

I absolutely love that he refused to show affection like a normal person, I want Elvis Presley to gnaw and bite at me like a shark 😩 !!

(excerpt from Elvis and the Memphis Mafia)

[snuize]

I’m so obsessed with the #mecore edits or whatever it is that I always see on tiktok so I made my own :D

content warning: lots and lots of fake blood, lots of exploding heads and some mean mean words :,(

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Don't Ask

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Reader, Billy Smith, Charlie Hodge, Given Time Period We’ll Say Ginger Aldean

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4483

Summary: All he has to do is ask.

Tags/Warnings: Reader has a name, Addiction, Drug Use, Divorce, Arguing, Crying, Angst, Love, Marriage, Kids, Substance Abuse, Failing Health, Body Issues, Body Image Issues, Weight Gain, Big Daddy Elvis Era,

Notes: okay so this was sadder than anticipated

ELVIS MASTERLIST // TAG LIST

You could hear it, the shrill ring of the telephone just beside your bed, attempting to pull you into consciousness, its calls getting louder and louder as it managed to do so. It only stopped as you threw your hand on the nightstand, fumbling around until your fingers clasped around the receiver. As you placed it to your ear you flopped back, far too casual for someone who was receiving an out of the blue phone call at three am. Then again your life had never run on a normal schedule so nothing really phased you anymore.

‘Hello,’ you yawned, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you waited for the mystery caller to make themselves known.

‘Lor? That you?’ Billy said.

‘Yeah it’s me,’ you said quickly sitting yourself up in bed. Just because you’d become acclimatised to living life at a fast pace didn’t stop ice running through your veins whenever a call like this came it. It didn’t mean that countless scenarios didn’t run through your mind as you tried to keep calm and ask, ‘what is it?’

‘It’s Elvis,’ Billy said as if it could be anything else. As if there was any other reason any of them would even bother with you anymore.

‘What is it? Is everything okay?’ you replied, trying to push the worst conclusions from your mind.

‘He’s fallen. He’s hit his head pretty bad,’ Billy said. It wasn’t exactly great but it allowed your thudding heart to slow as you pushed anything worse from your mind. Injured you could deal with. Injured meant alive.

‘What about the kids have they seen him?’ you asked, getting to your next priority. Making sure nothing terrible had happened was top of the list. Making sure they hadn’t seen it was right behind it though these days that felt like a losing battle.

‘No, no, they’re asleep,’ Billy explained before he paused. You could hear him shift, no doubt trying to think of how to say whatever it was Elvis had told him to. Whatever he had told him to ask, ‘Lor, he’s asking for you.’

‘Bill,’ you sighed.

‘Said he won’t get off the floor but anyone but you,’ Billy said cutting you off. You knew he wasn’t trying to be rude but rather hoping that his explanation would get you on side. After all you could see how possibility of having to go back to Elvis empty handed wasn’t very appealing to him because the idea of telling him you couldn’t come over felt the same way.

‘Bill,’ you said hoping he wouldn’t ask you outright. That you wouldn’t have to peel yourself out of your warm bed and drive to the house to fix yet another mess.

‘Lor please…I don’t know what else to do,’ he said, quietly.

You paused. You shouldn’t go, you knew that. You knew that this wasn’t your job anymore and yet as you thought about him you couldn’t help but wonder. Wonder how bad it was this time. Wonder what they’d do if you said no. Wonder if your kids would see him in whatever state he was in if you didn’t go to help.

‘Give me twenty minutes,’ you sighed.

As your car rolled through the gates of Graceland you felt the nerves you had been fending off the entire drive return. It never failed to amaze you how people could stand outside the gates you had just gone through, watching a house just be. How they could fantasise about the goings on inside and wish to be part of them. But that was because they didn’t know what truly lay behind those gates. They didn’t know the goings on as you did. They weren’t here with you at three am on a chilly December night; not going to a party, not going to frolic by the pool or ride horses around the grounds. No, they weren’t there for this, whatever this was of course.

As you stepped out you wondered if they would be here if they could. That if they knew everything they’d swap places with you in a heartbeat. You wondered if they were in your shoes would they be coming over to the house or would they have never left in the first place? After all, considering all you’d been through your decision to leave your husband, your home, all you’d ever known, had baffled everyone. It made them wonder. What was the breaking point? What was the final straw? And most people wondered, could it really be that bad? Surely all the good bits of Elvis Presley were enough to stay.

They had a point you supposed. Because even after you’d left; packed up your children and whacked the divorce papers in front of him you still came back for the bad bits.

‘You’re going?’ you heard your boyfriend ask as you emerged from the bathroom. You’d promised to head over to the house, to mop up whatever mess Elvis needed you to, but that didn’t mean you were going to rush right over there. It was pointless of course, to make sure you looked at least somewhat presentable, but the idea of having some control over the situation brought you a modicum of self-respect. Even if you were running back home and leaving your boyfriend in an empty bed.

‘I have to,’ you said, not meeting his gaze as you made your way around the room, dressing yourself for the chilly Memphis winter as he climbed out of bed and came towards you.

‘He’s your ex-husband Lori. Emphasis on ex. You don’t have to do anything, let his new girlfriend figure it out,’ he said. He was standing in front of you now, blocking your path to your purse and forcing you to look up at him.

‘It’s not that simple,’ you said trying to ignore that twinge in your gut at the mention of your replacement.

‘Why not?’ he replied.

‘My kids are there Tom. I mean what if they see,’ you said pausing before you let anything else slip out. Even after everything you still couldn’t bring yourself to tarnish his reputation, even if he was doing a damn good job of doing that himself. Instead you steeled yourself and moved past him, picking your purse up from where it rested on a chair by your vanity, ‘I have to go.’

‘You’re just gonna run to him every time he clicks his fingers?’ he said watching you as you headed to the door. You paused at that, your hand resting on the door handle waiting for you to make your decision.

‘What choice do I have?’ you muttered before you ran out of the door.

The house was still when you got inside, the sound of the kids running around or the presence of Elvis’ entourage now gone not that you needed anyone to tell you where to go. You headed upstairs only when you rounded the corner you found Billy sitting at the top of them as though he’d been waiting for you to show up before he dared go and tell Elvis anything. He stood up as you came into view giving you a quick hug before he turned to head towards your bedroom, your old bedroom.

‘He’s in the bathroom,’ he muttered as he walked through the room, ignoring the woman who was sitting on the bed, tears running down her face as Billy’s wife Jo attempted to comfort her. She looked up as you passed, watching you with a scowl on her pretty face that you ignored. It wasn’t that you weren’t sympathetic. After all you knew how she must’ve felt, you’d been there yourself a million times before, left out in the cold whilst he chose someone else. You just couldn’t help it. You knew you shouldn’t be there and yet you couldn’t not be.

Because he’d asked for you.

You heard him before you saw him. Billy had headed into the bathroom first, joining Charlie who was standing by the door, and as suspected he’d been missing a while causing the backlash he’d been hoping to swerve to spilled out the moment he reappeared as Elvis said, ‘and where the fuck have you been?’

‘Makin’ a call like you asked,’ Billy said.

‘That took you half an hour?’ Elvis spat, ‘honestly if I got one competent person around here-‘

‘He was waiting for me to get here. Now can someone tell me what the hell is going on?’ you asked, pushing through Billy and Charlie’s human blockade. Elvis’ angry expression melted away as you broke through the line of defence, disbelief taking over his features as he said, ‘you came.’

‘Of course I came,’ you said bitterly, folding your arms across your chest, ‘they said you were being ridiculous and won’t get up.’

‘And what, you think you can make me?’ he said, a cocky smile coming to his tired face.

‘Don’t test me Elvis,’ you said seriously.

‘Oh come on,’ he said, ‘you used to like me teasin’ ya remember?’

‘You know what forget it. I don’t need this,’ you said turning to head to the door though you hadn’t made it a foot before he spoke again, all teasing gone from his tone as he said, ‘don’t go. I’ll behave…just don’t go.’

You turned around, assessing the situation in its entirety. He was sitting on the floor, his legs out in front of him as he rested against his back the counter top. Apart from being on the floor he didn’t look too bad but it was only when you looked closer did you notice the disarray. The bottles that were scattered along the counter top and the floor from where he caught them on his way down. The discarded towels on the floor beside him, dark in colour which made it hard to notice the even darker spots of blood that had long since dried into them. The deep gash on his forehead that was still crusted with blood but blended enough into his hair line that it wasn’t noticeable at first glance. And the fear in his eyes.

You knew him better than anyone. You’d learned to read every expression that ever came on that beautiful face of his and right now you could see he was scared. He wasn’t doing this to be awkward. He hadn’t called you because no one else could help. Hed called you because you were the only one he wanted to see him like this.

‘Give us a minute,’ you said looking towards Charlie and Billy who were both standing by the door watching the pair of you curiously.

‘But-‘ Billy protested.

‘A minute,’ you said looking at him with the expression you gave your son when he was being just as cheeky as his daddy. Billy glanced between the pair of you and then nodded before gesturing for Charlie to follow him out of the room. You pushed the door shut behind them, taking a deep breath before you turned back to Elvis whose eyes had never left you.

‘So what was so important that you couldn't ask for anyone but me at three am,’ you said, perching on the barbers chair as you stared down at him.

‘I need ya,’ he said simply, colour flushing his plump cheeks as he said, ‘I can’t get up.’

‘Can’t or won’t?’ you challenged.

‘Can’t,’ he said embarrassedly, ‘my legs…I can't feel ‘em. T-that’s why I fell.’

‘We should call an ambulance,’ you said worriedly.

‘Hell no!’ he retorted angrily.

‘Elvis,’ you pressed.

‘No Lor, no ambulance,’ he said tersely though as your worry went to irritation at his tone he noticed he’d overstepped and his expression softened, ‘just please help me.’

‘I don’t know if I can E,’ you said assessing the scene before you. He’d always been bigger than you, in height for one, but over the past few years with his varied state of health his weight had fluctuated leaving him larger than he used to be meaning you didn’t know how you were going to hoist him up off the floor without help.

‘They won't understand,’ he said brokenly, ‘you’re the only one who understands.’

You surveyed him one last time, watching as he kept his gaze ashamedly on his lap, which only made tears sting at your eyes though you blinked them away. As always you couldn’t let yourself cry because he needed you to be strong. And so you sighed and said, ‘alright, let’s see if we can get you up.’

Elvis looked up at that and nodded watching you as you moved to the floor and bent down beside him to assess the situation. You didn’t know how best to get him up, the way he had landed had left him in the middle of the bathroom with only you to grab onto but as you surveyed you noticed the towel rack on the wall not too far away.

‘I’m gonna hoist this side okay? Do you think you can grab the rail and pull?’ you asked, peering into his face that resembled that of an old man and an obedient school boy all at once.

‘Think so,’ he said.

‘How much feeling have you got in your legs?’ you asked.

‘I can feel ‘em now but they’re weak…I won’t be able to hold myself up for long,’ he admitted.

‘Well let’s get you into the barbers chair,’ you said eyeing the distance between it and you. Once he was on his feet it would only be a couple of steps but the feat of getting him upright left you with that uneasy feeling once more.

‘Okay,’ he said reaching out for the gold towel rack and wrapping his hand around it so tight his knuckles turned white.

‘Ready?’ you asked, slipping your arm under his shoulder until you had a grip of him on his other side.

‘Ready,’ he nodded.

‘One…two…three,’ you said rocking him on every beat until you both thrusted forward, using his weight as an advantage to pivot him onto his feet. He was up surprisingly quickly, though his grip on your waist tightened as he stood there, unsure and wobbly on his own feet. You surveyed him looking for any signal he was going to drop but he met your gaze offering you a reassuring smile, well, until the distinct smell of dried urine wafted into your nostrils. He noticed it at the same time, his cheeks going beetroot red as he dropped his gaze to the dark stain on the front of his pyjama pants and muttered, ‘sorry…it happened when I…’

‘It’s okay,’ you said, your heart breaking at his embarrassment, ‘let’s get you cleaned up.’

He nodded and plodded the couple of steps towards the chair, your hands only letting go when he was close enough to sit down though he threw himself into the chair with an oomph and a groan. He looked exhausted. Any energy he’d had thus far vanquished in a couple of steps. And looking at him you felt just as exhausted, your battery running on empty even though you knew he needed you. At that you excused yourself offering the excuse of finding him some new clothes. He didn’t protest though you didn’t give him time to, instead fleeing to the safety of the other room. Everyone was gone now, save for Charlie who was perched on the bed watching as you flitted to the closet.

‘Is he okay?’ he asked.

‘He’s fine,’ you said though both of you knew that was far from the truth. Even holed away, protected by soundproof walls and secrecy, neither of you dared address the elephant in the room.

‘Need any help?’ he asked.

‘Nope,’ you said, tucking the folded silk pyjamas under your arm, ‘I’ve got it under control.’

‘Holler if you need anything,’ he said, watching you nod before you were gone from sight back into the bathroom. He was where you’d left him, his eyes closed as he relaxed back against the headrest though they opened as you entered making your heart squeeze as the peacefulness disappeared replaced by fatigue and worry.

You ignored it, that hurt in your heart, and instead moved to the counter, turning the tap on and running the water until it was warm enough to start filling up the sink. If you couldn’t get him to the shower the shower would have to come to him. Once the warm water was up near the top of the bowl you turned the tap off and moved back to him, your fingers working quickly to unbutton his pyjama shirt. He allowed you to remove his clothes, watching as you worked silently, the only thing offered being a grunt as you made him lift his hips to get his pants off. You moved to grab a wash cloth but when you turned back he was surveying himself, disgust on his face as he took in the body before him. Again you said nothing but this time it was less about trying to hold back your emotions but more because you didn’t know what to say. You’d told him countless times about how handsome you still thought he was. How a little extra timber suited him not that he had ever believed you. But his body now meant something different to you.

It made you sad. Not because you longed for that trim twenty something you married but because you knew that it would only be able to take so much. Because you feared that one day it might not be just his legs or his bladder that gave up on him. Because you feared that one day you might get another phone call in the middle of the night except there’d be no helping that time.

The washcloth glided smoothly across his skin washing away the sweat that had arisen on his skin from the exertion and though you knew he would probably be better with a shower there was no way you’d be able to manage that so as long as he was clean you’d take it. He said nothing, watching as you glided the warm cloth tenderly along every inch of skin, until you got to his thighs, which was when his weary face broke into a smile, his eyes lighting up at whatever dirty quip he’d cooked up in that brain of his.

‘Nice try Presley,’ you giggled handing him the cloth so that he could deal with that part alone.

‘Hey, I didn’t say nuthin’,’ he smirked making you roll your eyes as you busied yourself with getting his clothes ready.

‘You don’t have to,’ you said as you turned back around.

‘Maybe you should get your mind outta the gutter Mama,’ he retorted.

You ignored him, even when he quirked an eyebrow as you dropped to your knees in front of him, ignoring how pink your cheeks had turned as you tapped his foot to allow you to slip his pants on. He clung onto you as you got to his hips, grunting again as the exertion of moving made him breathless, his belly diminishing the amount of air able to get in his lungs. As you shimmied his pyjama shirt, moving to fiddle with the buttons on the front, his hands found their way to your hips. You knew he probably shouldn’t, that exes should never be this affectionate with one other but like with everything else Elvis was a law unto himself. Even with another girl in the other room he still held you like he would have if you were married. And more to the point you let him.

Once you finished dressing him you grabbed a comb and ran it through his locks, trying to get them into some form of order instead of the disarray they’d been in but the teeth of the comb snagged in the dried blood making him wince.

‘Sorry,’ you murmured moving to grab another cloth so that you could wash it off properly. Except this time he didn’t let you stand, as you dabbed the cloth against his forehead he pulled you onto his lap watching your face closely as you kept your eyes on the task at hand.

‘Lor,’ he said after a moment. You didn’t respond, ‘Lor look at me.’

‘I can’t,’ you whispered, refusing to meet his gaze, ‘I can’t keep doing this.’

‘I know,’ he whispered, ‘I can’t believe you came.’

‘How could I not?’ you asked finally meeting his eyes as tears started blurring your vision.

‘But you can’t anymore?’ he said dropping his gaze to your other hand as he took it in his large one his thumb stroking the back of it gently.

‘No,’ you said honestly, ‘and you have to stop asking.’

‘Honey,’ he sighed.

‘Because if you ask I’ll come. You know I will and this…I left because I couldn’t do this anymore Elvis. You know how much it breaks my heart to see you like this. To think of the kids seeing you like this.’

‘I know, I know,’ he sighed.

‘But you don’t!’ you said climbing out of his lap and brushing the tears away, ‘you don’t seem to get it otherwise we wouldn’t be in this cycle would we?’

He didn’t answer, instead he fiddled with the arm rest of the chair refusing to look up at you.

‘When I go are you gonna call Dr Nick?’ you asked. You knew the answer already but hoped you were wrong. You knew that once you were out of the way, once you’d hid his shame and guilt away he’d be back to the people who caused it in the first place.

‘I hit my head,’ he said earning a scoff. It wasn’t an outright admittance but it wasn’t a denial either. It was a classic Elvis tactic. To make you do the work. To never be in the wrong but never be in the right either. To live in ambiguity until his opponent gave up fighting. Like you had.   

‘Honey,’ he sighed.

‘No Elvis,’ you said folding your arms across your chest.

‘I need him,’ he explained, ‘the pain, the achin’. I can’t take it.’

‘How do you know? You haven’t tried,’ you said exasperatedly, ‘you just pop those damn pills and hope they’ll fix everything.’

‘He’s a doctor,’ he said.

‘He’s a murderer,’ you corrected. You could see the argument building. It had been one you’d had countless times. His use of his so-called doctor ranking somewhere in the middle of worthy topics of debate, smushed in between fighting about the kids, the house, money, the other women, the colonel and work. Yet unlike all those times before you could see he was weaker now. That though he dared to stand by his actions his resilience to do so was waning and if you kept arguing you’d be no better at keeping him from an early grave than that damn doctor.

‘I can’t,’ you sighed, ‘I can’t argue about this again…I just can’t.’

‘Lor please,’ he begged.

‘No Elvis,’ you said, the firmest you’d been all night, ‘I can’t do this anymore. I asked you to choose and you made your choice.’

‘It ain’t that simple,’ Elvis said.

‘And neither was leaving you,’ you replied. The tears had broken free now, silently running down your cheeks as you said, ‘do you love me? Our life? Our babies?’

‘Of course I do,’ he scoffed.

‘So why isn’t it enough,’ you said moving to stand in between his legs. His arms wrapped around your torso, his sad blue eyes looking up at you as you took his face in your hands, dampness coating your fingertips from where his own tears had rolled free, ‘why can’t you choose us for once?’

‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t know either…’ you sniffled, ‘because I choose you. Every time. Whenever you ask I come running and I just can’t do it any longer because it’s killing me…the way those pills are killing you…and I can’t let our babies end up with no one.’

‘Lor,’ he whispered brokenly.

‘This only gonna end one way baby,’ you said moving to rest your forehead against his, ‘unless you choose not to.’

He stayed quiet, allowing you to kiss his forehead before you broke free of his grasp, his hand only letting go of yours at the very last second before you slipped from the room. Charlie was gone now, replaced by the girlfriend you didn’t know the name of yet. As you wiped the tears from your face she watched you, her expression less hostile now that she could see your distress, whatever favouritism you’d been shown evidently not being a good thing.

‘Is he okay?’ she said as you grabbed your purse from where you’d dumped it by the bathroom door.

‘He’s fine,’ you replied, fumbling for your car keys.

‘Fixed him all up huh?’ she said, her stare cold and unyielding.

‘I did what he asked me to,’ you said flatly, ‘but um he’s asking for you.’

‘Oh really,’ she said sarcastically and though you wanted to argue to fight back you didn’t.

‘Yeah, he uh, he’s gonna wanna get it bed but he might need a minute to get there. Don’t fuss him too much otherwise hell get angry with you-‘

‘I don’t need your help,’ she said snippily.

‘From the way you were sobbing your heart out earlier I take it your initial go at handling him didn’t go very well,’ you bit back, offering the only bit of angry you could muster. She bristled, folding her arms across her chest with a pout on her face which you elected to ignore as if she was one of your children. Given her age she might as well have been, ‘look you wanna feed yourself to the lions go ahead but I’m here to help. More importantly I need yours.’

‘Why?’ she questioned.

‘Because I need to know has got someone. Whether it’s you or the next one who knows,’ you said, the idea of her being replaceable finally seeming to kick her into a cooperative mood, ‘just look after him.’

‘What if I don’t know how?’ she asked.

‘Call me,’ you said.

And before she could ask any more questions you fled the room headed back to your car. As you drove away, fresh tears pouring down your face you wondered again about those people at the gate. Except now you had your answer. Because even knowing everything, knowing how it was going to end, you couldn’t walk away. Even if you had to look like you had.

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @lettersfromvenus @louisejoy86 @ccab

[mooodyblue]

hi!! i love your writing! i’m sorry if this is convoluted but i keep thinking about that linda thompson quote where she said she wanted to be the little girl sometimes but elvis always had to be the bby. can i please request a 70s elvis x reader fic where one of them is always cg and the other is always little (pick your poison for who’s who!) but the cg has been having a really hard week so their little suggests that they switch roles for a bit. the cg is reluctant at first because they’ve never been little before but their little helps them go down and they love it and feel so safe and happy :)

wc: 1,955

pairing: 70s!elvis x little!reader

warnings: age regression (sfw)

a/n: ok totally obsessed with this request. probably one of my favorite parts of her book too!!! enjoy 🫶🏼

masterlist directory

elvis was always used to giving. need a new car? he'll get it for you. need your car fixed? he’ll buy you a new car. give, give, give, that's all he ever did. he always did it out of the kindness of his heart, but he never got anything back. he felt stuck a lot of the time, always feeling like his life was just giving, always taking care of people and never himself. he looked out for everyone else before he did.

it was his whole life, even growing up. he worked to help his parents pay rent and when he got famous and started getting bigger checks in the mail, almost all his money would go to taking care of his family. he took care of his daddy, took care of his momma, and even his cousins and grandparents. it was always on him. 

but sometimes he wished people would give back. someone paid him back once and he went home and cried.

after the death of his mother, the feeling and want to be taken care of only got worse. his own mother couldn't coddle him anymore, no more of the motherly love he craved whenever he was feeling blue. he found himself lonely, wishing he had someone to hold him and tell him he'd be okay.

he started sleeping with a plushie. it was weird at first, being a grown man and sleeping with a plushie that a fan gifted him. he felt weird about it. he didn't tell anyone. it was just his little secret. he found himself feeling bad once he got more plushies as gifts, a weird sense of dread realizing he was neglecting all the other plushies and sleeping with the same one every night. he felt bad getting rid of them, but he donated them to feel a little better instead.

he started having sweet nicknames with his partners. then the baby talk started just like how he did with his mother. it was oddly comforting talking to his partner in that way, he loved how they'd babytalk back, all the different nicknames for him….it all reminded him of her. 

it happened with every partner of his. babytalk, nicknames for each other, elvis being babied and acting like a little boy with a tiny high school crush every time. 

but then you came along. you changed his life and he found himself so attached to you. now, he was older. he was sicker, his body ached, he was overworked and he knew of it. he wanted that escape, to feel a mother's love, wishing his own was around to comfort him when he wasn't feeling good. you comforted him, you gave him the love he wanted, even when he got more attached to you and it got beyond just nicknames and babytalk….you gave him what he wanted. you knew he deserved to be treated in that way.

the older he got, the more he found himself slipping into that sort of headspace whenever you were around. you’d hold him after shows, telling him he did such a good job at being a big boy, he’d call you momma as his cheeks got pink with every compliment. it was always just you and elvis. never with the guys, except jerry that one time. 

elvis always played the baby. he was the baby. you never minded it, you loved it. the toys, the plushies, ‘iddyteam’, and plenty of ‘butch’ in a glass every now and then. 

but he wasn’t always in that sort of mood, though. he was elvis presley after all. every morning he’d wake up, have his coffee, read a book or maybe the paper. breakfast was always quiet. the occasional shared glance as he look at you as he flipped a page, smiling at you then going back to what he was reading.

you’d been feeling off as of lately, too much going on your head, you had a lot going on—between taking care of business around graceland and being elvis’s partner….well, being his partner was hard enough as it is. 

“i’ve got some work to do today, satnin.” elvis suddenly spoke, breaking you from your thoughts. “colonel wants to see me about some songs i wanna record.”

a soft sigh left your lips. you planned to talk to him today about wanting to be babied too, wanting to see if that would make you feel any better. you worried he’d be weirded out by it, especially when he had valid reasons for wanting to be the baby in the relationship.

it’s not like you didn’t enjoy it. maybe it was burn out. you wanted to feel what he felt for a change. the whole week felt exhausting to live through. sure, you wished you could relive your childhood, back when everything wasn’t so…complicated. but going back to that now as an adult, would it be as comforting?

“you’re thinkin’ again.” elvis spoke, looking at you. “what’s on your mind? c’mon, spit it out.”

you ran a hand through your hair and sighed. “i’m just….” you didn’t know how to really explain how you were feeling or how to even bring up that you wanted to try switching roles. “can i ask something crazy? please don’t get mad, just hear me out.” 

elvis raised an eyebrow, closing book. “okay…..”

there was regret on your face, wishing you hadn’t brought it up. it was too late to turn back now. “i’ve been…wondering if maybe…we could switch roles one day? i love that you’re my baby and i’m so happy to take care of you, i’ve just been feeling stuck this week.”

he didn’t say anything. he looked at you slightly puzzled, confused even. he didn’t know what to say to that. 

“i know it sounds insane.” you added on, “ but sometimes…i just…want to be the baby too—”

“oh, honey.” he leaned forward closer to the table, taking his hands in yours. “i wanted to bring that up to you, to see if it felt like somethin’ you needed.” elvis noticed how quiet you’d been the whole week. he didn’t know what was going on your head a lot of the time, you kept to yourself quite often.. “i didn’t want ya thinkin’ i was the crazy one.” he laughed softly. “you’re always gonna be my baby, darlin’. let me take care of you today, sound good?”

you were surprised with how accepting he was to your proposal, a surpised look on your face. “i thought you had to work—”

he waved you off, “the colonel can wait. he can cry about it, i don’t give a damn what he has to say. i’ll make him wait.” he smiled. “i want you to be happy and comfortable too, little one.”

your cheeks warmed up at the pet name, squirming a little in your seat. it was sweet that elvis was willing to switch up the roles, but you didn’t know how to just…feel what he felt. you didn’t know how to go down, it wasn’t easy for you like it was for him.

“don’t worry about it, hon.” he said reassuringly. “i’ll help ya, not a problem. we’ll figure out what you like and don’t like, you just gotta get comfortable.” he smiled, reaching over to put his hand on top of yours. 

elvis was very patient with you. whenever he went down, it wasnt on purpose, it always came to him. he knew some people could force themselves into that sort of headspace, but for someone that never got themselves into that sort of tiny place in their head? he knew it was going to be difficult. he also knew he had to do what he thought would make you feel smaller, not what helped him, but you.

he made you a little snack instead of having something made for you. just like him, he couldn’t have certain things unless they were made by you. it started with getting you comfortable, helping you change into clothes that made you feel cozy. you had your favorite pajama set on, he had his on too. elvis was kind enough to lend one of his plushies to you, finding himself almost slipping into his own headspace after rambling on about it and its name, but this was about you, not him.  

you watched some cartoons with him, snuggled up on the couch. you still couldn’t get yourself to fall into that headspace. he kept you close to him, rubbing your arm and kissing the side of your head. sweet pet names always left his lips, making you feel giddy and light, your heart about to burst with love from this man. 

a funny scene appeared on screen, elvis letting out a soft laugh and you giggling softly. you hugged the plushie close to you, feeling its comfort. the soft glow of the tv and the presence of your comfort person made you feel so safe, a type of comfort you hadn't felt in a long time. you found yourself beginning to feel fuzzy—a light, floaty feeling taking over your brain as you continued to live in the moment, suddenly burying your face in elvis’s chest. 

“oh, baby.” elvis chuckled, rubbing your back gently. “i got ya, daddy's got ya. you feelin’ alright, lil’?” 

“mmhm.” you hummed in response. 

although elvis was so used to taking care of others, it felt nice to be with little you. he felt needed, like this was what he needed to do. it felt right. he wasn't going to stop being your baby, of course, but he would definitely be exploring this side of you more often. there was so much to learn, likes and dislikes, mannerisms, what age you found yourself stuck as….he was ready to learn it all.

once he realized you had fully gone down, he played with you for a bit, even letting you draw him a few pictures in crayons. you were the better drawer while little, he just scribbled, you actually tried. he thought it was cute. 

dinner was easy. he lended you a sippy cup filled with milk, a pb&j and some animal crackers. he loved seeing you happily chow down on such a simple meal, how your legs kicked back and forth with the sandwich in between your hands.

he decided to run you a bath before bed, a lavender scented bubble bath with a few bath toys to help you wind down for the night. he hummed softly as he washed you, watching you play with a rubber duck in the tub and giggling as you squeezed it, a soft squeak coming from the piece of plastic. “funny lil’ sound isn’t it?” he asked, mimicking the sound and getting a laugh from you in response. you flapped your arms gently in the bath, some water splashing out of the tub. he didn't mind it though, you were happy. “silly baby.” 

he got you dried up and into some fresh pajamas, taking your hand as he headed back to his bedroom for the night. you hopped up on your side of the bed, watching him get himself ready for bed. “y’gonna tell me a story?” you asked softly. 

he snorted, “a story?” he playfully complained. “haven't i done enough, baby?” 

you gave him a small pout, “please?” you begged, dragging out the e.

he put his hands up in surrender, “alright, alright!” he got up in bed beside you, letting you rest against his chest. “because you were so good today, i’ll tell you a nice lil' story.” he ruffled your hair. “i love you, baby.” 

you smiled at him and buried your face in his neck, “love you too, daddy.”

[therealslimshakespeare]

IM SORRY DID U SAY YOURE WORKING ON A FIC ABOUT “COP BIG DADDY ELVIS”?!?- please tell us more because this sounds like the greatest thing ever 😭

I did, Mon ami, I did indeed…welcome to the demented 2009, sweaty and non famous cop AU that @eliseinmemphis and myself cooked up in our feral yearnings one night.

Edit: it’s here

Allow me to lay a bit of the setting for us all, and maybe even throw in a few lines from the draft below.

Life is insular when you’ve been born and raised in a trailer park. A little El Paso suburb was never a thriving metropolis, what with its gas stations and dollar stores on the way to nothingness in the desert, but the recession didn’t help none. Your dreams of buying a car that might actually make it above 120 mph and not guzzle your wages in gas is a far off dream when you learn from officer Presley that your entrepreneuring father has been incarnated for racketeering across in Juarez. It’s a shame, a damn shame but it hardly throws a wrench in your life, you were already used to making it however you could. When workin’ at the trucker’s club turns into something a lil more illegal and Elvis has his morning waffle ruined by Joe Esposito yacking about the powers of your pink tongue…he feels a little responsible for leaving you without a father figure. He’s got top notch swamp coolers in his trailer, plenty of food and tiger figurines out front -and he’s got an interest in fast things, just like you.

You could do worse than shack up with such a fella; not that he’s offerin’ but you can tell by the flicker in his eye and the smirk of his lips that he’s as susceptible as the next guy watching you on the pole. Except this sweet, world weary cynic just might screw your gooey insides up worse than any threat or ogle from another man.

Snippet:

“Well, well officer Presley, finally got persnickety about laws, have ya?” you observed to yourself with a grin as you watched the handsome man swagger towards you along the white line in your side mirror, tugging at his pants as he neared, trying to shimmy the article of clothing a little higher but is impeded by his belt, stopped by his sizable belly, his holster and buckle sitting under the bulge of it.

Your mouth watered. It had been a year or two since you saw him last. He was always built, intimidating to all the stupid rascals he keeps in line along the border, but now he had become outright fat and his khaki shirt pulled apart between each button. Yet when he came up to your window, that little boy grin was still gracing one of the most exquisite faces known to man, and his voice was tender and playful when he greeted you, just as you once recalled. You could see his sweaty hair, matted on his chest and belly between the gaps, his underarms had massive pit stains, doubly apparent thanks to the light color of his police uniform.

Your smile had something of the she-wolf in it as you greeted him, sniffing the air in hopes of catching a whiff as he leaned on your window frame, nearly crowding you from outside. “Hey Miss Sweet Cheeks,” he greets, “you know why ya been pulled over?”

“Haven't got a clue, officer.” You stated the truth and enjoyed the way his title rolled off your tongue in a bantering way. It was easy.

Officer, officer. Somebody important and authoritative. No sir, yes sir, Officer.

His left eyebrow quirked and you wondered what he looked like at twenty five, how devastating that expression would have been before his wound and his meds and the water retention. Whatever power it may have once held, it holds nothing to this slightly bemused, slightly cynical world weariness that shows in his every expression now, that had a twitch of an eyebrow making you feel a fool. “You’re goin’ seventy in a forty five, Miss.” his tone was patient even as his face suggested he’d like to tan your hide for being so reckless. “Reckless endangerment of others, and yourself,” he quoted sternly, “it ain’t no small matter and I don’t countenance it on my highway.”

Gosh, you just loved it when he laid claim to government property like highways and interstates. It helped you smile meekly at him and nod.

“Sorry officer, I got lax.” You purred, batting your eyes and you could see the heavy flap of their coal coated weight in your periphery. “I’ve seen you lettin’ me flyby on the interstate. I guess I thought…”

[floralcyanide]

What about number 13 from smut list no 1, (high on adrenaline kind of sex) with Javi for the saturday night sleepover? 👀

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!

find this prompt and more, here!

Javi Rivera x Fem!Reader

prompt: high on adrenaline kind of sex

You were not expecting the first chase with Javi to go as great as it did.

It’s been years since the two of you have chased together, and the last time went awry very quickly, the two of you losing all of your friends in the process. Javi had the opportunity to figure out how tornadoes work and needed your help. So here you are, the two of you driving in the direction away from the tornado that successfully got the Storm Par to work. 

Javi is grinning from ear to ear, and so are you. It’s nice to see your best friend smile like this. Years ago, you were often the reason why he would be caught in a good mood. But ever since the accident, you haven’t had the chance to see Javi in a state of grace. 

Once you’re a reasonable distance away, Javi parks on the edge of a wooded area. The two of you look at each other and burst out laughing.

“That was insane! I can’t believe it worked!” you cry out,  hurriedly unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing out of the truck.

You shield your eyes as you watch the tornado disappear into the sky, Javi exiting the truck and joining you where you stand.

“It worked because of your help,” Javi elbows you in the side.

“Oh, don’t forget that it was you who convinced me to come here,” you wag a finger at Javi, who unlocks the truck bed door, laying it down so the two of you could sit on it.

You hop up on it, “Any word from Scott or the others yet?”

“I think we’re all too busy celebrating,” Javi says, slotting himself between your open legs.

“How would you like to celebrate, then?” you bite your lip, eyeing Javi as he leans in close to you.

“Like this,” he encloses the space between the two of you, bringing his lips to yours.

There’s always been something between you and Javi, and you could never quite put your finger on it. But the soaring adrenaline and mind numbing energy pumping through you only makes you eager to find out. You lay back on the truck bed, Javi following as he hovers over you, not breaking the kiss. In a hyper frenzy, both of you remove what clothing you can in order to get access to one another.

“I’ve been wanting this for so long,” Javi kisses along your neck hungrily.

“Oh, I have an idea of how long,” you say jokingly, carding your fingers through his curls.

“Really?” Javi kisses down your chest and along the edge of your bra, “How long then?”

“Since college,” you say, “So how about you get on with it?”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Javi pushes your underwear aside, plunging two fingers inside your already soaking cunt.

You gasp, immediately grinding on his fingers. Your heart is racing still, the high still not subsiding. Javi feels just as pumped up on the adrenaline from moments ago, and wastes no time to pull his underwear down and his length out. Javi fills you up quickly, but allows you to adjust to him before moving. 

“You feel better than I ever imagined,” you groan, your hands gripping Javi’s biceps.

Javi chuckles as he thrusts particularly hard into you, “I can say the same about you.”

He picks up his pace, both of your pulses racing in your ears as you meet his thrusts. It’s sloppy and high octane, you’re panting and sweating but you don’t care. All you know is that this feels so good- so right. Javi fits with you like a perfect puzzle piece. You cum around him with a loud cry, your orgasm rocking your body. Javi pulls out and finishes on your stomach, nearly collapsing into you. With what little energy you can muster from the adrenaline crash, the two of you get cleaned up and redressed, climbing back into the truck.

Javi checks his phone to see several missed calls from Scott and the team.

“Looks like the celebration is over.”