#elvis fan fiction

[vintageshanny]

For the First Time

Content: 18+ This is a one-shot about Elvis losing his virginity. I do not claim to be an expert on the details of this. I have heard different rumors, and this is, to me, one possibility of how things might have happened. There is smut in this, but I’m more focused on how he might have been feeling at this time. As always, my tender little heart bleeds with love for him and everything he went through in his life. I would very much appreciate any feedback. ��️

Thank you @lookingforrainbows for talking me through ideas on this and letting me know it didn’t sound ridiculous. You are a beautiful soul. ❤️ 😘

Fall 1954

Elvis ran his fingers over the outline of the condom package that Scotty had slipped into his pocket at the beginning of the tour. “I know ya got a girl, EP, but put it in your wallet man, just in case. Ya don’t wanna come back with more people than ya left with,” he’d added with a wink. Somehow rubbing his fingers over the rough edges calmed Elvis’ ragged nerves a little bit.

His mind drifted to Dixie and the promises they’d made to each other. To wait. To wait until they were married to consummate their relationship. Sure, they were affectionate with each other, always hugging and kissing, but whenever Elvis tried to sneak his hand up under her skirt or unbutton a couple buttons on her dress, she’d firmly push him away and say, “That’s for our wedding night, silly.” Sometimes when they were kissing, she’d let him grind against her through their clothes, and he’d get so worked up that he needed to make an excuse to go to the bathroom so he could relieve the amount of passion coursing through his entire body.

The promise to wait had seemed so much easier six months ago when they talked about it. Now, it was damn near impossible. He saw the way these girls looked at him after the shows. He was dying to know what it felt like to explore every part of a woman. He thought maybe if he just got this out of his system, the waiting with Dixie wouldn’t be so hard. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was a man after all, and she didn’t need to know about this. He could experience this on the road and be good for her at home. He just needed to find a way to make sure everyone was happy and taken care of, like he’d always tried to do.

Dropping the condom onto the rumpled bedspread, he rose from the edge of the bed and started pacing the hotel room, the voices floating up from the courtyard below making his heart thud in his chest.

“Maria! You came!” Scotty’s reedy voice rang out.

“That’s the idea,” Bill added, only slightly under his breath.

“You should head right up! Elvis should be waitin’ for ya. He’s been waitin’ a looong time.”

Elvis cringed at Scotty’s words as he looked out the window and saw the two of them clink beer bottles and laugh.

Maria paused and turned to look at them, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What’s that supposed ta mean?”

Elvis held his breath, willing Scotty not to divulge too much. He’d never come right out and told the guys he was a virgin, but he saw the way they nudged each other and smirked whenever he was talking to a girl after the show. He slowly exhaled as Scotty responded.

“Aw nothin’, honey, I just hope you two have fun on your date.”

Maria rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs, carefully ascending them in her white kitten heels. She took a deep breath, smoothed out her pale yellow sundress, and tried to brace herself for what was on the other side of that door. She had been with a handful of other men, but this was a bona fide star. He probably invited a different girl up every night. Maybe that’s what the other guys had been joking about. She hoped she would live up to his expectations, especially after her bold proclamation earlier. The conversation replayed in her head as she lifted her hand to knock on the door.

“Hey baby, I could see ya dancin’ from up on that stage. Looks like ya really enjoyed the show.”

“I sure did. Maybe I can return the favor with a show of my own.” A sense of satisfaction had consumed her when he unexpectedly blushed at her advances.

Maria’s mind snapped back to the present as Elvis flung open the door. He was wearing black dress pants with a pink jacket open to the naval. As he rested one hand slightly below his hip, she took note of his long slender fingers, nails chewed down to the nub, and the fuzzy little trail of hair leading down from his belly button. Up close, and in the fluorescent lighting of the hotel, she could see he had a pimple on his chin and another close to his collarbone. The entire scene was absolutely intoxicating.

“Maria, I was startin’ ta think ya were gonna stand me up, baby.” Elvis flashed a crooked little grin and stepped aside to let her in the room. He quickly kicked a stray sock under the bed where he’d hidden the rest of his dirty clothes. After sniffing each pair of socks, he had decided it was best to just stay barefoot after his shower. His toes scrunched up at the feel of the rough carpet under his feet.

“No, of course not,” Maria giggled nervously. “I suppose I just took too long tryin’ ta look nice for ya.”

“Well ya sure do look nice, honey,” Elvis whispered lowly as he closed the door and grabbed her by the waist, feeling the soft flesh of her hips. He leaned in and smushed his lips into hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth when she let out a little gasp.

“Wow, you don’t waste no time gettin’ to the action, hmm?” she laughed a little bit when he finally pulled back for some air, his eyes closed. His hands had moved up a little bit, his thumb gently rubbing at the side of her breast.

“I-I-I thought that’s what ya wanted, baby,” Elvis stammered out, trying to read her expression. “If you’d rather just sit and talk, that’s okay.” He led her over toward the bed, and they both spotted the condom at the same moment. Elvis’ face turned bright red as he snatched it up. “Oh, I-I-I’m sorry baby, I d-d-didn’t mean ta leave that there like that. We really ain’t gotta do nothin’, I-I-I mean-”

Maria just laughed and pushed him gently backward until he was sitting on the bed. “It’s okay, Elvis.” She unbuttoned his jacket the rest of the way and slipped it off his shoulders. “I always make good on my promises.”

Elvis stared in awe as she reached behind herself and unzipped the yellow dress, letting it fall to the ground, revealing a silky pink bra and panties. Elvis gulped nervously as he stared at her body. The material was so thin and sheer, he could see the outline of her nipples and the little mound of hair down below. He stifled a groan as he could feel his cock growing hard, straining against the briefs that he now wished he’d forgone.

“You’re really gonna make me put on a show for ya, huh?” Maria teased as Elvis just sat there studying her. “I thought ya might join in.” She reached back and unclasped her bra, her perky breasts now on full display for him.

“I-I-I’m sorry honey, ya jus’ got me a little speechless here. I’ll join in,” Elvis murmured as he pulled her closer to him. He tentatively leaned in and took one of her nipples in his mouth, caressing it with his warm tongue.

“Mmm, that’s more like it,” she whispered. “You can touch me anywhere, Elvis.” As she grabbed his hand to guide it toward her panties, she realized he was literally shaking with nerves. “Elvis? Are ya okay?” As she looked at him with concern, the meaning of Scotty’s “He’s been waitin’ a long time” suddenly hit her. “Are you, I mean, is this your, um, first time?” she asked softly.

“Wh-wh-what?” Elvis exclaimed, jerking his trembling hand away. “N-n-no baby, I-I-I’ve been with plenty of girls. I-I-I jus’, um, I mean, n-n-none as beautiful as you, that’s all,” he stammered out, trying to distract her with a compliment.

Maria wanted to tell him it was okay, that she was flattered, that he didn’t need to be nervous, but she decided it was best to just drop it and help him relax. She smiled and nodded. “You’re sweet, Elvis. I wanna see if ya taste sweet too.” She dropped down to her knees and unbuttoned his pants.

“Wh-wh-what are ya doin’ honey? Ya ain’t gotta do all that.” Elvis heard the words come out of his mouth, but somehow his body’s desire betrayed him by lifting slightly off the bed so Maria could pull off his pants. His heart raced anxiously as she reached inside of his briefs. He knew from being in the locker rooms back in school that not everyone had a sheath of foreskin covering their dick, and he hoped she wouldn’t mock him the way some of his classmates had.

Maria could feel her panties getting wetter by the second as she wrapped her hand around something thick and warm inside Elvis’ briefs. “We should just get these outta the way,” she murmured, pulling them down his legs and watching as he sprang free from the confinement. Her eyes widened with surprise when she realized he was not…well, not like the other guys she’d been with. There was something extra wrapped around him. She liked the way it felt as she pumped it with her hand.

Elvis squinched his eyes shut, too afraid he’d see a look of disgust before she jumped up and ran off. Instead, he felt something warm and wet wrap around his hard dick. He opened his eyes to see Maria taking him deep in her mouth, and the moan he let out made him kick himself for not closing the window tight. The whole hotel must know what’s going on in here. Her tongue traced its way around his shaft before taking special care of his sensitive tip. Elvis thought he might explode right on the spot as she sucked on him.

“You do taste good y’know,” Maria said with a little wink as she pulled off him and stood up again. She slid her dampened panties down and stepped out of them, so they were both totally naked. “Do you wanna check if I’m ready for ya?” Elvis nodded and this time let her guide his hand between her legs.

“Baby, it’s so wet down there,” he murmured as Maria started moaning. He found her entrance and slipped a finger inside of her, moving it in a way that felt natural. She felt so soft and silky, he thought he could just play with her pussy for hours. But Maria wanted more than a finger.

“You should slide right in then,” she whispered as she moved his hand and laid down on the bed next to him. He grabbed the condom again and opened it, rolling it onto himself, hoping Maria couldn’t tell he’d never done this before. Maria smiled at the awkward way he put on the condom, and noticed that she could feel him trembling again. “I want it so bad, Elvis,” she reassured him, pulling him on top of her.

“Me too, baby, me too.” Elvis reached down and guided his dick toward her slick opening. Once he’d gently pushed in a couple inches, he thrusted in the rest of the way, her wet pussy consuming his entire length. “Oh, goddamn,” he moaned out, unprepared for the feeling of something so tight and wet wrapped around him, clenching at him. He tried to take it slow, tried to make it last, but the pleasure was overpowering. He thrust a few times before his orgasm completely took over, leaving him panting on top of Maria, his sweaty hair dripping down onto her forehead.

“Oh wow, baby, you are amazing.” Elvis slowly pulled out and rolled to his side. He carefully peeled off the condom and tossed it into the trash can by the bed. “I-I-I’m sorry, I usually l-l-last longer, I jus’, uh, got so excited,” he tried to explain, his face turning red from the lies and the exertion.

Maria just smiled and patted his chest. “That’s okay, I thought your excitement was very sweet.” She hesitated, then added, “Do ya think you could, um, help me get there though? Your fingers felt magical inside me,” she admitted with a blush.

“Really?” Elvis perked up at the compliment. “I mean, of course baby.” He reached over between her legs and started playing with her pussy again, taking mental note of what seemed to work the best. She moaned deeply when he put a finger inside her, but he noticed that her toes curled up and she could barely even function when he rubbed at her little button. I wonder what both at once would do. He kneeled next to her and put two fingers from one hand inside of her while his thumb on the other hand worked that little nub.

“Oh, God!” she cried out in ecstasy, her legs shaking, her arousal leaking out onto his fingers. “Oh Elvis, I c-c-can’t take it,” she moaned, begging him to stop. Elvis removed his fingers and smiled, very pleased with his ability as he leaned down to kiss her soft lips.

“Was that magical enough?” he whispered in her ear.

“Pure magic.” Maria pulled him in for another passionate kiss.

“C-c-can I ask ya somethin’, honey?” Elvis gently stroked Maria’s arm with his fingertips. “After talkin’ to ya, ya seem like such a nice sweet girl. Wh-wh-why did ya do this with me?”

Maria tried to sort out the thoughts in her head, wondering how much she should share. “You seem like a nice sweet guy. Why did you do it?” she finally asked.

“W-w-well, that’s different, I mean, I…I wanted ta feel good I guess,” Elvis stumbled over his explanation, unable to really articulate what he was feeling at that exact moment.

“So did I,” Maria responded. “Elvis, I’ve been through some really bad experiences. I suppose at heart I’m just lonely and this is a way to feel close to someone, to feel connected and cared for, even if just for a little while. Ya know what I mean?”

Elvis swallowed a lump in his throat. It was like she had put his exact thoughts into words. “I know exactly what ya mean, honey. Does it work? Ta make ya feel close ta someone, I mean?”

Maria let out a little sigh. “Sometimes. Sometimes not so much. But we all just try the best we can, I suppose.”

Elvis nodded as Maria stood up to get dressed. “I should get home. My mama will worry and wonder where I’ve been.”

“What will you tell her?” Elvis asked as he pulled his clothes back on.

“That I was having a deep conversation with a friend,” Maria laughed. “Y’know, not really a lie, but not the whole truth. Not everyone needs ta know everything.”

“Will I, uh, will I see ya again at another show?”

Maria smiled and hugged him tight. “Maybe. But maybe we were just the connection the other needed in this moment.”

Maria paused at the door and looked back. “Elvis?”

“Yeah, honey?” Elvis’ mind was a muddle of confused emotions right now.

“You are very sweet and very special. Never let anyone make ya feel like that ain’t enough.” That crooked little smile would be burned into her mind forever.

Twenty minutes later, Elvis descended the steps to the courtyard, wondering what the guys were up to. Scotty and Bill were playing cards when they saw him approaching and started a round of applause. “There he is!” Scotty yelled out. “I told ya that condom would come in handy.”

“Aw quit it,” Elvis snapped, but he couldn’t deny feeling a tiny surge of pride at being considered “one of the guys” for the first time in his life. He couldn’t see it now, but over the years ahead, he’d sacrifice so much for the desire to fit in, to connect with people, to wish they could understand him. What he’d give for just one person to really understand what he was going through. To understand his heart.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone

[mahg-stuff]

Sunup Hues - a bd!elvis b-day special!

⸻

AN: Hello loves! I decided to give ya'll a late bde birthday special! 'Sunup Hues’. I got this idea very, very early in the morning due to tossing and turning in bed all night. I'm not sure why but the idea of a moody volatile elvis on his birthday morning intrigued me! He's bit of a man in this drabble which I *caugh, cough* am weak for sometimes. I definitely captured some of 'his doll' essence in here although I did not intend for but, my fingers just typed away. Okay! Excuse my yapping, enjoy my darlings!

- also, tysm to every one of you loves who enjoyed and rb 'bitty'! ♡

Now enjoy! & pls excuse any errors! 🫶🏻

- a drabble so 1-2k words?! Summary: He had all kinds of sides, you never knew which one you'd get, but either way, you were content, tending to whatever one he gave you. Like a chameleon, he was constantly quick to shift hues. Pairing: bd!elvis x afab!reader Warning’s: I'll be presenting you a moody/capricious!elvis, mention of elvis' pill use and sleep issues, e sorta having an ego and being assertive towards reader, fluff!!, pet names, age gap (not implied), bby talk, just kissing and cuddles here, use of word daddy (only once), power dynamics

You'd woken up early this morning, excited to celebrate his day. You felt the warmth of his body next to you and heard the soft snores he let out. Lifting your head a tiny bit to peek over at him, to your surprise, he was in a peaceful slumber. You admired him for a bit, your eyes going from sunken ones to his pillowy lips that were a bit agape. You smiled to yourself, you liked seeing him in this unconventional form.

Elvis had asked everyone beforehand not to pay him a visit today, he'd told them they could just come by the following day. Besides you, naturally, he'd always asserted that you were his little angel and felt at peace when you were by his side.

Since you first started dating you'd noticed how his moods were constantly fluctuating. Whether he’d been too pilled up or hadn't had enough sleep, which was less and less these days, you had gotten familiar with his behaviors and how quickly they could change. You had observed yesterday that, following his late show, he appeared very worn out and lethargic.

So, of course you were debating whether or not to wake him up, and as you thought about it, you recalled that he had mentioned how much fun you two would have at Graceland. He’d promised you to go golf cart riding together out back and, overall, just have a lovely time together all day in Graceland.

You'd even heard him mumble to himself, "Just like old times," with a smile but bleak eyes.

Given that he had sounded upbeat (to you) about his plans for the day before, that darling little mind of yours decided it would be best to wake him.

You pulled the comfy covers off your body, sitting up on your knees in your frilly underpants to face him. You beamed at his sleeping form, some of his wiry chest hair peeking out of his silk pajama button-up.

“El.” You whisper as you leaned over and lightly tugged at his shirt.

You were sure to be gentle, it troubled you a tiny bit, waking him up when you'd known he didn't get much rest. You pause for a moment and back away from him, you sit there in your frilly bottoms and teeny tank, nibbling away at your finger.

"El." Mumbled this time.

He groaned and rolled over, burying his face into a pillow.

"Can't uh man get some sleep 'round here?" he mutters, his mood evident in his tone.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes and reluctantly rolls back on his back, not bothering to hide his annoyance at being woken up. You sat there wide-eyed and began to speak softly, but he cut you off.

"Goddamn, honey, you should know not ta wake me up when ah am finally gettin’ rest.” He says this to you vigorously as his eyes narrowed at you.

You moved around the bedsheet's to get closer.

"But El, you said- said we’d spend time together and have a good time for your special day.”

You replied with furrowed brows, sounding like a child.

He takes notice of your contorted face.

“Mm, don’t do that now, it’ll start wrinklin’.”

He nudges you, and you relax your face quickly.

"Ain't fittin' for uh girl like you." He continues.

You frowned when realizing this wasn’t how you'd thought it out to be in your head. As you contemplated your disappointment, he seemed to hone in on your expression.

"What's wida frown, doll? Ah was the one who was woken up," he remarked with an emotionless expression.

“Now would ya lay back down, an’ quit frownin’ lil girl.”

He motions at you, and you bring your hand up to your lips to quite literally wipe that frown off your face.

You lie back down next to him as he brings his arm around you.

“Should be smilin’ your little ass off just ta be lyin’ next to me.” He mumbled more to himself than to you.

"Now hush up button." He said as he pulled you closer to him.

You'd become accustomed to playing the role of complying with his temperaments, always there to fulfill his every whim.

Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of his nurturing side. It's in the little things, like the way he’d brush your hair out of your face or sit you on his lap to read to you. Despite his demanding nature at times, you can't deny that he has brought out a different side in you as well, a softer, more vulnerable side that craves his affection and attention like never before.

His standards had grown on you, and you found yourself bending over backward to please him. It became a cycle of highs and lows, but through it all, you couldn't help but be drawn by his boyish and kiddish side. His playful antics and mischievous grin would always light up the room, reminding you of the carefree joy of childhood. And while his demands could be exhausting, you knew deep down that he just wanted someone to join him in his world, to share in the imagination and wonder that seemed to guide his every move. So you embraced all sides of him, knowing that within this distinctive combination lay a love that was both different and comforting. Well at least to you.

You snuggled against his hefty, soft frame, still a bit dismayed at things not going the way you intended.

Resting your head on his squishy midsection, you felt the warmth of him, you could hear him mumbling his ear off, so you peaked back up at him from your spot. As you looked up, you saw him reading his Bible, his weary eyes scanning the pages with utter concentration. The gentle rustling of the pages and the peaceful atmosphere he was now creating making you ease, this was his escape, his source of solace.

You always enjoyed watching him immerse himself in his faith, the way he’d look, reminding you he still had a little boy inside of him. The weight of his earlier whims and discontent now seemed to fade away in the presence of this shared moment of serenity. You rested against his belly again and relaxed as you heard him sluggishly voice the words of God.

As he continued reading, he took a glance down at you, his sweet girl, whom he'd just denied. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret as he saw you resting against him, listening to his words of faith. The words on the pages seemed to blur as guilt started to gnaw at him all of a sudden. How could he have been so selfish toward his little angel? He thought. The excitement he saw in those pretty doe eyes of hers quickly dissipating back when he'd used a tone with her kept replaying in his head now.

He looked at the back of your head, facing him, as you rested your cheek on his gut and held him with one arm. This sight of you quickly shifted his mood, as he couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth. The contrasting emotions within him, like the bicolor markings on his soul, made it hard for him to keep a steady emotional state.

“Doll, A-Ah know ah made couple uh bargains last nighta, but man, am… am gettin’ old button. Can’t quite keep up wit’ a young girl like yuhself sometimes." He blurted impulsively with a bit of humor.

You mildly smiled to yourself, your mood lifted ever so slightly, hearing his voice shift behind you.

“El, y-you talk like you’ve turned eighty or something.” You said it almost below a whisper as you fiddled with the opening of his pajama shirt.

As you went on fiddling, his snickering filled your ears. The slightest lines on his face deepened as he grinned to himself, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of love for this man.

“The way ah’v lived, seems like ah have.” He grumbled as he looked away.

You kept still and quiet as you snuggled deeper into him. The movement caused him to look back down at the back of your pretty, hair-filled head. There was a moment of silence, and all that could be heard were your soft breaths and the birds chirping outside.

“Hey ther ma little cherub, was u-uh lil harsh on ya, huh." He cooed softly as you continued to rest your head on his upper belly.

“Her's was only tryna spend time with ‘er good ol' daddy on, on his ‘pecial day." He continued as he petted your hair, causing you to sigh with contentment, you unwind more as you also listened to the sound of his gold cuban bracelet swishing around his wrist.

He gently wrapped his longsome-fingered hand around your cheek to bring you up closer to look at him. He smiled, but you still saw that tiredness in those precious blue eyes, the back of your mind mentally cursing at you.

You couldn't help but feel culpable about waking him up so soon on his day.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice filled with remorse.

He shook his head gently, his hand still cupping your cheek.

"No, no needa ‘pologize, angel," he said, his voice baritoned.

"It's not yur fault," he reassured you, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

“I would do anythin' for ya, even if it means sacrificin' a little rest on ma birday."

His words melted away the guilt—barely, bringing a weak smile to your pouty lips for him. He leaned in and gently pushed you on your back, he moved from his position and hovered over you as he now lay between your sprawled legs. You felt the pudnginess of his belly press against you as he shifted his weight, the warmth of his body radiating through the thin fabric of your tiny tank.

His hands traveled to one of the straps of your shirt and toyed around with it.

“She's hasn't wished em happy birthday." He spoke kiddishly with pursed lips.

You giggled lightly, your fingers now tracing circles on his supple warm chest.

“Happiest birthday to you, El." You voiced softly, as you brought your hand up to his chubby cheek. You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his pillowy lips as a gentle smile spread across his face.

"Sweet as ever, button'," he drawled as you met with his disoriented gaze. You wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him fully down to you, his face barried into your neck and his body fully covering yours.

As you both held each other, enjoying one another's embrace, you felt his hand slowly trailing down your back, reaching for your rear. You could feel the heaviness of his touch through the fabric of your frilly bottoms.

His Southern voice rumbled softly in your ear as he murmured, "Ain't nothin' sweeter than findin' my birday cake right heer in ma arms."

You let out a light giggle at his remark as you felt your face heat up at his groping.

“Oh, you." You mumbled as your face pressed against his silk pajama top, snuggling closer at the comforting warmth radiating off his pudgy chest.

• Master List

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₊ ⊹ Get added to Taglist for future stories here. ♡

[misskentuckyrain]

The Queen to the King

Warnings: None (for this chapter only probably!) Fluff

Word count: -1.5k

Chapter One - The Prince Of Memphis

August 1977

What time is it? Opening one eye, you then close it, not quite ready to face the world. Opening both eyes, you give them a moment to adjust to the dim light. A small slither of sunlight has penetrated a small gap in the heavy blackout curtains he insisted on hanging in your bedroom.

Squinting across at the clock perched on top of the pile of books you keep on your bedside table, you see that it's mid-morning, you meant to get up hours ago. Rolling onto your back, you run your hand across the sheets on his side of the bed. Cold. Wherever he was, he had been gone for a while. Sitting up with a sigh, you stretch, raising your arms up and letting out a louder than necessary yawn. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you stand, stretch some more, and head to the master bathroom suite. Pushing open the already part open door, it takes a few seconds for your brain to register the scene in front of you. A silence shattering scream is all you hear…

December 1957

"Elvis Aaron Presley does your mama know you're out here, prowling the streets at all hours?" you teased as seconds earlier you had swung open the front door, not considering for a moment that at this time of night it might be relatively dangerous, to find Elvis leant against the door jamb. A broad grin spreads across his face as he looks up “Baby, you know I don’t prowl, I cruise those streets” he tries to say it in all seriousness but falters on the last word, laughing to himself as he stands upright. You laugh along with him as you step in closer and wrapped your arms around his neck “And to what do I owe this pleasure of finding you on my front door step this late at night? You’re lucky my daddy isn’t home, he’d be chasing you across the yard with a shot gun!”.

You were extremely thankful that this was not a possibility, he and your mama were at a friends for dinner, so likely would not be home until the early hours of the morning. Elvis winds his arms around your waist, humming gently “I think I’d outrun him and if not, well, there’s no one I’d rather sacrifice myself for” he nuzzles into your neck. You let out a squeal, “Elvis! Behave! The neighbours will see!” Elvis looks around and raises an eyebrow, you both know that’s unlikely at this hour, but still, he backs you into the hallway and closes the door behind him, kicking it shut with his foot.

“Now isn’t that better?” he leans back a little so he can look into your eyes. You roll them at him then smile, “Better for what Mr Presley?” Elvis tuts “Now honey you know Mr Presley is my daddy” You take a step back, running your hand down his chest “I’m sorry…” you lean in close to his ear and whisper “What is the reason for your late night visit……baby…?” nibbling his earlobe as you pull away.

“I…. I…. Ju… Just wanted to check on my girl, haven’t seen you in so long.” You roll your eyes again and laugh, “I saw you just last night!” Elvis takes one of your hands in his and starts kissing your knuckles gently “Like I’m sayin’ it’s been a really long time!” His kisses move further up your arm, skipping over to your neck, where he nuzzles in, sighing happily.

Your hand makes its home in his hair, lightly pressing him to you, moaning quietly “We can’t do this here, my folks might get home any minute and in all seriousness that won’t end well for you”.

“Don’t care…” Elvis mumbles into your skin, finally making his way to your lips, “I would die on that hill” he chuckles. You feel his hand move from where it felt like it had been burning a hole on your hip through your dress, slowly dragging down to the hem and then moving back up the inside, making a path up past your knee to your thigh. “Elvis…” You sigh, dropping your hand to his to begrudgingly stop his progress. “But I want to fool around….” he practically whines into your mouth, continuing his knee - trembling kisses. It takes all the will power in the world, but you manage to pull yourself away from him, putting a little distance between you.

“Not here, not tonight” a look of disappointment crosses his features. There is nothing you would like more than to let him have his way with you, but one of you needs to be sensible. “It’s not that I don’t want to” you lean in and kiss him again, “It’s just not the right time”. Elvis sighs, not too dissimilar to a toddler throwing a tantrum “Fine” You chuckle and kiss him once more in an attempt to ease his frustration.

Elvis straightens himself up and pulls you into the living room and sits on the sofa, pulling you into his lap. There are a few minutes of silence, you both sit there just enjoying being in each other’s company.

“Christmas is next week” he starts, “Mama asked if you and your parents would like to come to dinner on Christmas Eve?” You turn a little so you’re able to look at him directly, a little surprised at his invite. “Really?” Unable to hide the tone of surprise in your voice. Elvis chuckles “Really. Mama and daddy love you nearly as much as I do, they love having you around, and they’d love you to spend the holidays with us. What do you think? Will your folks be up for it?”

You sit silent for a little while, you and Elvis hadn’t got to the point of using the L word yet, so you were a little taken aback by his use of the word. “Darlin’?” Elvis pauses, then realising what he said. “You can’t be surprised that I love you? I thought I’d made it crystal clear!” he laughs, nervous about your lack of reaction. A bit more time passes before you suddenly blurt out, making him jump ‘You know I love you too, right?!?!” A large smile forms on his face, and he leans in and kisses you softly, “I do now”. You feel yourself going a little red, not regretting your words but a little embarrassed by your loud admission of love. “So about Christmas?.” Elvis continues.

“I’ll ask them in the morning, I’m sure they’ll agree. Mama will just be happy she won’t have to cook.” Elvis leans forward, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you softly, “And maybe you could stay with me Christmas Eve night? I can give you your Christmas present early?” He kisses you again, this time with a little more heat.

When you pull away for breath, you look into his eyes, darkened a little in the moment, “And what are you planning to get me for Christmas?”

Elvis kisses you again, his tongue nudging open your lips and playing with your own, pulling back he whispers “It’s a surprise, but you’ll know what it is as it will have a big red bow on it….”

[thatbanditqueen]

Basic Training Chapter 5

Summary: Bess has plans to spend the evening having a picnic dinner with Elvis on post, and tries to juggle her family and keeping her relationship with Elvis a secret as her father presses her about her future.

Warnings: Some very heavy petting, dry humping, female orgasm (gasp), and discussions of mental illness, the Holocaust and Cold War operations. And all the usual typos.

WC: 6K

A (very very late) response to the prompt "Hey, quit splashin' me."

Many thanks to my lovely sister wives @whositmcwhatsit, @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @ellie-24 who helped me write this.

If you need to catch up, you can read the previous chapters of this fic about Elvis at Fort Hood in 1958 here

Notes:

This one got more into Bess family life, but it won't always be this top heavy in the future.

Maus and spatz are german terms of endearment. Illsa is a German nickname for Elizabeth.

Schatzeleh, bubeleh, mamaleh, these are all Yiddish terms of endearment. The Yiddish phrase "shayna maidel" means beautiful girl.

Deutsch ist die Muttersprache - German is the mother tongue.

INCOMS - abbreviation for Army Intelligence

The USIA was really a wacky Cold War PR agency for the U.S. government that set up a radio system to blast US music and news into other countries, and promote art and performers and entertainers around the world, along with other stiff. What every fic needs, more Cold War history ;)

Wednesday, April 9, 1958

Schwartz Residence, Killeen TX

6:45 a.m.

Bess hovered over her sister’s shoulder and grabbed a piece of toast off her plate, scooping up some scrambled eggs and chewing as she dodged Kay’s swats to pour a cup of coffee.

“Curlers again? Jeeze, Bess, that’s the third day in a row you’ve worn curlers to sleep.”

Bess hit the back of her sister’s head with her elbow.

Their father’s eyes did not leave his newspaper as Kay yelped and Bess stuck her tongue out.

“Elizabeth, you are not a nomad. Sit and eat.”

“I gotta finish getting ready, Papa.”

“Is there anything special going on today, maus?” Her father raised his eyebrows as Kay giggled.

“Or maybe someone speci - ouch!” Kay got a pinch at her back.

“Oh, no, nothing special, just wanted to look nice, I told Emily we’d go shopping after work today, Papa.”

Papa folded his newspaper, crisping the edges at Bess' expectant eyes.

“Well?”

Kay grinned into her juice.

“I was just wondering if it was ok to take my own car in again, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Ja, fine. Do you anticipate driving separately all week?”

Bess nodded, slowly, swallowing more coffee as her father’s eyes went from one daughter to the other.

“Hmm, sure are getting dolled up to go shopping with Emily OWfff.”

Kay got another swift pinch to her shoulder before Bess washed out her coffee cup and left to fix her hair.  Just as she got to the kitchen door, she heard the piano in the living room and looked back at her father.

“Did Mama wake up and go right back to work on the piano?”

“No.” Her Papa’s face went back to the newspaper.

Kay’s eyes met Bess’. “She’s been in there all night.”

“All night?”

Papa calmly set down his paper. “Your mother is fine, you know how she is. Once she starts a project, she becomes very focused. You both would benefit from such discipline. You just need to let her get it out of her system.”

Bess shook her head and ran to the living room to find her mother at the upright piano, hair wild as she wiped sweat from her brow. Mama had been hunched over sorting through a pile of tuning instruments, but her face lit up with excited energy at Bess.

“Oh Bessie, you’re doing your hair fancy again today, huh? Oh my sweet shayna maidel. Brains and beauty.” Mama stroked Bess’ cheek, then went back to hitting a key on the piano. “Ughh, hear that? Can’t get the D flat right.”

Bess tugged on her mothers house dress, the same one she had been wearing yesterday.

“C’mon, Mama, it will be easier if you rest the ole noggin, come back after you get some sleep.”

Her mother brushed off her hand.

“No, Bess, can’t you hear it? It’s all gooey, everything is gooey, when it should be tight. I can’t possible leave the plunkers gooey, it makes the whole room go orange, bubeleh.”

Bess rubbed her mother’s shoulders as she leaned her chin into Mama’s neck.

“You know the bedroom upstairs is all light and yellow, Mama, it will help you center yourself.”

Mama shook her head, and Bess sighed as she returned to the kitchen and mixed some of the thalidomide barbiturates hidden above the spice cabinet into a glass of milk.

Kay paused washing the dishes.

“Papa left.”

“Of course he did. A one star General who strikes fear into the Army Intelligence training officers, but won’t deal with his own wife.”

“That is not fair, Bess, Mama has been better since the treatment. Papa said she was great on the trip, she just needs to get back to routine and get the jitters out of her system.”

“Jitters, jitters is bupkis and you know it. Did you know Aunt Rachel came down to babysit Mama when they were in D.C.?"

Bess sighed and finished stirring the milk, and was finally able to coax Mama upstairs where she undressed her and tucked her into bed with a kiss.

“Oh Bessie, you have a yellow halo around your head schatzeleh, good things await you today, my pretty girl. “

“Thanks mamaleh, get some sleep.”

The black pumps were the last thing Bess slipped on before heading off to work, dropping Kay at school on the way. It was not far to Killeen High School, an easy 10 minute walk for Kay in her saddle shoes, but Bess wanted to talk with her.

“Can you come straight home after school? Keep an eye on Mama, maybe try to get her some sun gardening or going for a walk.

Kay nodded, tightening the scarf around her ponytail, “Sure Bess, she’s ok. I 'm telling you, she just needs rest after goin’ to DC and New York for two weeks.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

A car of high school boys pulled up next to them, their radio blasted as they made their way to the student parking lot. The boys looked over, whistling and laughing at Bess and Kay.

“Ugh, high school boys.” Kay moaned, fluffing her hair.

“Speaking of which, my dear sister. I thought we had a deal, ixnay on the elvisay or I’ll spill the beans on how often you sneak out with Dickey and tell Papa and Mama you’re spending the night at Gloria’s.”

“Aww, heck, Bess, you know I am not doing anything wrong, not since you scared me half to death about getting pregnant and having to get a back alley abortion.”

“I wasn't trying to scare you, Kay. I just want to make sure you take precautions. And that you understand it, are sure about it, ya know, when you are ready. Sex isn’t bad,it can just have consequences. You know you can always talk to me about that stuff.”

Kay rolled her eyes and hit Bess before getting out of the car.

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

5:15 p.m. Fort Hood Front Office

“She’s cooking brisket, and singing along with the radio.”

Bess held the phone receiver to her ear, she could hear her mother’s voice in the background along with Doris Day's. Guilt had been tugging at her heartstrings all afternoon, telling her what a selfish daughter she was to make plans with Elvis instead of going home to check on her mother. She kept listening to her sister talk as Dori come out of her father’s office and waved the CO on, telling him to bring the car around front.

“You sure everything’s okay?”

“Yes, Bess, jeeze, go already. Have fun with Emily.” Bess grimaced momentarily at Kay’s sarcasm then remembered she was trying to smile back at Dori.

Mabel was typing along, making no sign that she registered any human life in the office. Hanging up the phone, Bess began to cover her type writer.

“So y’all really don’t think I should go walk my lil ole self round about his barracks?”

The clacks from Mabel’s typewriter paused as she exhaled a deep huff of smoke, meeting Bess’s eyes for a split second before returning to her paperwork.

“Uh, no, Dori, you don’t want to be another girl chasing after Elvis Presley.”

Bess mused that quite a few members of Fort Hood’s female workforce seemed to have business near the 37th’s barracks lately. She avoided Mabel’s stoic, knowing stare as she explained that she had not seen Elvis since the night of the dance.

“He is a world famous entertainer, Doreen, adjusting to the first phase of basic training, the hardest phase. Women are probably the last thing on his mind.”

This elicited an eyebrow raise from Mabel behind Dori’s back, as the blonde conceded with a sigh that Bess was probably right and skulked out of the Command’s Front Office, flinging her handbag around in disappointment.

“The most eligible Southern bachelor in the world is at my base, even takes me on a date, but has to live in a shack with forty other men and no phone while doing drills all day.” She stomped her foot. “Jus’ isn’t fair.”

Bess stopped watching Dori walk down the hallway and pulled out her compact, giving her lipstick one last check.

“I am just glad the Executive Officer has three male children.”

“Mabel, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Like hell you don’t, that boy is gonna start world war three at this command, getting involved with two generals’ daughters. And, by the way, you need to come up with a better cover, one that doesn’t involve anyone on post.”

Flicking her cigarette, Mabel looked Bess directly in the eyes.

“General Schwartz was asking me about Emily in the switchboard office while you were at lunch.”

Bess swallowed, putting her compact away and rolling her feet back into her heels.

“Huh. Maybe I don’t give the old man enough credit?”

Mabel’s eyes were back on her typewriter. “You should go, before your father returns from his meeting and finds what is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairwell.”

Bess hesitated before she left. “I, um, I mean it, thanks, you know, for -”

“Git already, before I beat you down there and steal him for myself.”

Bess smiled as she tried very very hard to walk with calm composure down the hall and into the back stairs. Just the thought of Elvis’ touch made her tingle and Bess had to use her hands to try and keep her dress from blowing up as she danced down the stairs, heels clicking like Ginger Rogers. Heart in her throat, she nearly did a two-step on the landing mid-flight when she caught sight of a light green cap below. The cap tilted slightly, revealing lips, lips that curled into a welcome reprieve as Bess bounded down to meet him. The beat of her heart matched the sound of her breath as she launched herself onto Elvis’ mouth. He was a cushion and Bess threw herself into him unabashedly, feeling her body lift off the ground as Elvis twirled her around. It was exhilarating.

His light chuckle tickled her forehead and hands pulled her forward. “Happy to see me?”

“I guess.” Bess murmured into his clavicle. “You think too highly of yourself, Tupelo, just happy to be done with work, mostly. I actually forgot you were meeting me.”

He pulled her chin up and Bess heard her voice falter as his eyes melted her nervous system into a giddy mess.

“That why you are runnin' down these stairs like ya got a burr in ya saddle? Maybe I should check.”

His voice became slower as his hands moved from her waist to her bottom, pulling on her skirt as if to inspect it.

“Leave my saddle be, dirty boy.”

Bess cheeks flushed red swatting off Elvis’ hands and he grinned, fingers returning to their deliberate pace at her waist. Just their slow movement heated her belly, a sensation intensified by the warm air from Elvis nostrils as he nudged her eyelid. Bess was happy to see him, happy to have his arms around her, happy to have his fingers pushing the fabric of her dress back and forth over her skin. Those insistent, needy thumbs took her away from all her turmoil and into the comfort of his arms.

“So you aren't excited to see me? Go on then, tell me, tell me why you got ya hair all done up and ya lips all painted up, huh? Meeting someone else?”

Bess traced the top of his lip with her index finger, she was so close to him she could smell the faint hints of cologne, sweat and gun powder on his neck.

“I’m not meeting anyone else.” She looked up, not sure how she was summoning the strength to form words. “I just want to be here. With you.”

“Me too baby, me too.” He ran his finger over her nose. “Got lucky, boy, did I get lucky, that night I caught you stealing - ”

“ - reallocating Army resources.”

“Imma reallocate some Army resources.” He kissed her forehead, right between her eyebrows. “Right here.” She closed her eyes at the way his arms tightened around her. “Right now. For important morale operations.”

Bess’ nodded her forehead sideways into his nose and let her hands roll up his shoulders, the heat between them buzzed up her body. She sucked her bottom lip and the sound of air clicking from her mouth seemed louder in the still concrete stairwell. Bess kissed him gently at first and then with her entire being, grinding up as he thrust back into her and his hands moved to cup her face while his hips becoming sharper and more desperate. A moan escaped her mouth and Elvis stepped back, chuckling as he wiped the lipstick from his mouth.

“Let’s get out of here, huh?” Bess murmured, grasping at his waist to steady herself.

Bess tripped into him as they walked to her car, her head rotating from side-to-side, wondering if any one saw them and could tell how intimately Elvis gripped her hand. He didn’t seem to care, popping open her car door and sliding across the leather as if it were his own. His fingers were instantly over her shoulder, always pursuing physical contact, and he whistled at basket of food on the back seat.

“Watcha cook up for me, lil girl?”

“Um, just, ya, uh know, meatloaf sandwiches, potato salad, some pop.”

“Mmhmm, sounds real good, yessir boberino, real good.” Elvis growled and nibbled into Bess’ shoulder and she suddenly found driving very challenging.

Her struggle to hold the steering wheel only got worse as Elvis mumbled into her cheek while his fingers smoothed the small of her back. She tried, unsuccessfully, to elbow him away as he smirked at her breathy response. It was very clear to Bess that Elvis knew exactly what his fingers did to her as she drove them to a park at the back of Fort Hood’s residential area. Elvis lips trailed up and down her cheek in a way that made Bess not want to get out of the car, made her forget that she was hungry, made her forget her own name.  Grinning, he pulled back and pinched her side.

“Les eat, I’m so hooonnngry I could eat the north bound end of a south bound polecat.”

Elvis carried the basket of food with one hand, the other in Bess’ as she led them to a picnic table near a very small man made pond. She clucked at him to help even out the table cloth, and he grinned at the way Bess set out plates, cups and food methodically. Elvis caught her wrist as she moved to sit across from him, and guided her on to his lap.

“Where you goin’ baby? Don’t want you to get any splinters in that fine caboose.”

“Ha, ha, ha. How chivalrous.”

Bess pushed a spoon of potato salad into his mouth to shut him up as she set out the sandwiches for them, and opened the red cream soda with a bottle opener. Elvis took his pop, sucking it down.

“Just for future reference darlin, I like Pepsi.”

Bess grabbed the drink out of his hand with a playful sniff.

“This is the best cream soda this side of Little Rock, you can use it to make punch, jello, dye dresses red and clean your carburetor. And if you don’t like it, you can get your own drinks.”

Elvis pulled it back, stuffing meatloaf sandwich in his mouth before talking through his chews and taking another swig.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, now, no need to get sore.” He slapped her bottom, making her bounce up as she chewed some sandwich. “Jus’ sayin’ I like Pepsi best. ‘Sides, Dori said you were from New York, how come -”  He paused to take another gulp, “How come you like this local fizz so much?”

Bess took the bottle of Big Red from him, letting her mouth linger down and back up over the top as she sipped it, enjoying the way he raised his eyebrows while he chewed.

“Well, Private, I was born in New York. But I have lived in Killeen, Texas on and off since I was five years old. Papa was trained here before the war, and then we went back to Brooklyn while he was in London and then Germany - did your daddy fight?”

Elvis shook his head but offered no explanation, and Bess thought she saw a flicker of disdain or anger in his eyes for a split second, but it was gone. Then he pulled her closer with his right hand, holding up a sandwich to her mouth, lips apart in apt concentration as he guided the food into Bess' mouth and she giggled, swallowing it. He picked up the second bottle of pop and offered it to her as she wiped her mouth.

“Well, anyway, at first we went back and forth when Papa was overseas. We were in New York, and D.C., then he was given orders back here and they bought the house. Mama, Kay and I have stayed here whenever he got orders to go somewhere else: Heidelberg, Fort Hood, Berlin, then, you guessed it, Fort Hood, then DC, then back here. It’s been better for us to stay and go to school here.”

“So, uh, what, your daddy goes all ‘round teaching German?”

“Uh, well, yeah, mostly. Training Army officers to speak German has been a big part of his career.”

Elvis tilted his head for Bess to feed him more potato salad, his fingers otherwise occupied at her hips.

“How’d he get so interested in that?”

Bess licked the spoon they were sharing after feeding Elvis, looking across at the pond as twilight settled over the park.

“He, um, well, he actually grew up in Berlin. His parents sent him to New York in 1931 to live with his aunt and uncle.” She hesitated, scratching his collar, wondering how Elvis Presley felt about making out with Jewish girls. “You see, that was when his family’s synagogue was burned down, and they, um, started to, you know, worry.”

Elvis nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Ah, gotcha.” His hands tightened at her waist. “Ya know, this explains why Dori looked at me funny when I told her I met you outside the base Chapel.”

“Ha! Yeah, well, I could have been there picking up dates.”

“You do that often, Moo Moo?”

“Oh, yeah, good little Christian boys are my favorite.”

He bounced her on his lap and tickled her sides.

“Huh, that right? I don’t know if I like the sound a that.”

“Yeah, well, apparently I’m no good at meeting good Christian boys. Only bad ones.”

“Oh baby, you have know idea what a good boy I can be.” He drew her close for a soft kiss on her neck, and the warmth of his lips made her shiver as he talked into her nape. “I’ve been told I’m very, very, very good at bein’ a boy.”

“Ha!” She shook her head, hands clutching the back of his hair as she looked into his attentive, gleaming bright blue eyes. They made her weak. Everywhere. “Hey, you haven’t even told me how your day was, Tupelo.”

“Oh man, honey, today was a goddamn circus, and I was the lead clown, I tell ya.”

“What happened?” She played with the soft part of his ear lobe as Elvis wiped his forehead and sighed.

“Well, we had target practice for three hours today.”

“That sounds normal, it takes three hours to kill all the paper men.”

“You have idea, baby, no idea.” He looked over his shoulder, as if to make sure no one could hear him. “Well, go on ta find out I forgot to load my gun this mornin’, I was so goddamn flustered getting ready for inspection. Looked like a grade A idiot, man, standing out there front a every one.”

Bess soothed the top of Elvis’ shoulders, all the teasing lilt from a moment ago was gone from her voice as she massaged the stiff, anxiousness there.

“Boy, got me so keyed up, had ma hands in fists all day, bout nearly bust out of my uniform I as so mad at ma self.”

Bess soothed his cheek, running her hand through his hair.

“No one will remember tomorrow, I promise.”

“Huh, I bet you million dollars they all back in their barracks, writin’ home bout how they had a good laugh at Elvis Presley, the Elmer Fudd of the army.”

“I promise, if those soldiers have anyone to write home to, and that’s betting they know how to write, they aren’t wastin’ their time tellin’ their girls about the most handsome stud in America.”

Elvis looked up.

“Most handsome, what was that, baby, stud?”

“Ugh, stop, I was just tryin’ to cheer you up.”

Bess jumped up, and started packing up the picnic, and Elvis was instantly behind her, arms tugging at her was as she popped the last spoon of potato salad greedily in her mouth. He gave her a big, sloppy kiss, then let go, distracted by the water, he wondering down to the edge of the pond where he began skipping stones. She finished folding the table cloth and followed him down to the water, squatting beside him as she selected another rock and handed it to him.

“Sorry excuse for a lake, isn’t it.” Bess said, watching as Elvis aimed the flat stone across the small body of water.

“You better take that back, Moo Moo, you’re hurtin’ this poor lil baby pond’s feelins’” Elvis bent down and threw some water at Bess’ face.

“Hey,” Bess pushed him lightly, then stood up, backing away at the mischievous look in his eyes. “Quit splashin' me! You, you rock n’ roll hoodlum!”

Elvis grinned and cupped his hand full of water, throwing it at her as she backed away.

“Ohh baby, thems fighting words, better watch out!”

Bess shrieked and ran back up to the picnic table, circling around it as Elvis chased her, matching as she changed directions. Their laughter and panting filled the air until he caught her, running his dirty pond fingers through her hair with gusto as she made a face while he slapped her on the butt. Elvis quelled her protests with a kiss and brought her into his side and grabbed the food basket with his other hand. They walked  back to the car sweaty and out of breath like two giddy teenagers.

“Any lakes round here?”

Bess settled back into the car and smoothed her dress down while Elvis’ hands did their best to ruffle it back up, starting with the area over her right knee.

“There’s a reservoir, Lake Belton, bout 30 minutes away. You can go swimming, boating, horseback riding. Why?”

“This weekend phase 1 is over and I can start going off post on the weekend. Planning to see my friend Lamar, maybe some more of my guys, and I wanna take them somewhere fun Sunday. Somewheres maybe like this Lake.”

Bess tried to contain her disappointment that Elvis’ first thought wasn’t to spend the time with her. But she reminded herself that they weren’t serious, they were having a fling and besides, he saw her everyday. He sensed her mood change anyway as she sat up stiff and straight to start the car, and his hand became more attentive to her knee.

“I want you there, Bess, you’re coming out with me this weekend. Right after drills end at 1700 hours Saturday.”

“When does your friend get to town?”

“He’s already here. Lamar, he grumbles and fusses, but he is loyal and true. From Texas, too.”

“Where’s he staying?”

“At the Star Motel.” Elvis looked over at Bess, then down at where his long, thin fingers were on the inside of her knee, then back up to her eyes. “He, uh, he went and got a few a rooms so we can have a party Saturday night.” His voice became softer as he murmured. “Reckon it would be nice to have some time, just to be alone with with you, Bessie baby. Somewhere that ain’t a picnic bench. Or a car. Somewhere we could be alone and just talk.”

Bess parked behind the armory buildings near Elvis' barracks and turned to him, blushing.

“Um, yes, I guess I would like that too. To be able to just be somewhere, just talk.”

A wave of shyness suddenly overwhelmed Bess as she thought about being alone in a motel room with Elvis. What she thought he might really be asking her.  She wasn’t sure how far she wanted to go with him this soon, though she could feel desire pulsing up through her rib cage and knew that if Elvis even looked at her sideways she would throw all abandon out of the window. But she had the impression, from just the few weeks she had known him, that Elvis was more old fashioned then she would have thought. She wasn’t sure where his boundary was, as far as respecting girls who went to bed with him. But his invitation definitely seemed like a proposition and the prospect of sleeping with him was at once exciting and terrifying.

Bess began to fiddle with her hands where they lay in her lap and Elvis picked up her left hand, bringing it to his cheek and kissing her palm delicately.

“Hey there, lil Moo Moo, you’re so pretty. How’d I catch the prettiest lil moo cow in the field, hmmm?”

The words rumbled out of Elvis mouth in a low babyish voice and his eyelids drooped down in time with his bottom lip. Bess’ chest tightened, and it felt like the world tilted sides when she pulled him in and he kissed her down into the leather seat. They pawed at each other there, exploring how their noses fit together as their tongues played tug of war for control. It sent a jolt straight to Bess’ core when she felt his excitement stiffen against her thigh and she smiled into his goofy bedroom eyes.

“Hey, wait, are you calling me a cow, Elvis Presley?”

Elvis shook his head, his face focused on where his right fingers brushed over her breast, savoring Bess’ shiver, as his knuckles trailed back down over the hills and valleys of her skirt. Her blood rushed between her legs and she took a deep breath.

His fingers were back at her bosom, setting her skin on aflame with the way his finger tips trailed back and forth circling her breast.

“Mmmmhmm, not jus any cow, baby, you the prettiest little milk cow, bet you have the sweetest.” He bite his lip as he circled the cloth around her nipple again. “Cream.”

Bess exhaled out with a gasp, curling her left fingers at his wrist as he spoke.

“Makin' me want dessert.”

Elvis’ hand stayed at her side where she held it, his fingers brushing against her dress, but it was his eyes that knocked the wind from her lungs as they moved downward to settle on the apex between her legs. Elvis bit his lips and Bess felt a desperate flame tingle out from her core. No one had ever done what he was hinting at, and it scared her. Suddenly she didn’t consider herself as experienced as she had before. She had slept with what, twenty men? And no one had ever kissed her there. That was something she needed to prepare for, perhaps double the talcum powder she applied. Coughing, Bess slide out from him to sit upright and straighten her dress. Elvis’ hands were back on her hips, pulling her over to straddle his lap.

“You know, Moo Moo, I’d never do nothin’ you don wanna.”

Elvis kissed her neck as she nodded.

“I bet you taste sweet, though.”

Bess swatted him playfully, then gripped his shoulder as he nibbled her ear. Playtime was over. A feverish yearning took over and she met his hips as they rocked up into her. Bess’ heart was racing, Elvis slow and deliberate movements made him different from any man she had ever been with. He halted mid thrust to savor the moment, and his eyes looked deep into hers with a longing and and an eagerness to please. They were an invitation and a command that he followed with his fingers, trailing them softly over the curve of her breasts. She could feel his cock twitch when he noticed her shudder, or felt her nipples harden, and she knew what made Elvis different. Her pleasure turned him on.

So she chased it, moving in tandem to the rhythm of his thighs while she pushed her lips on top of his, feeling his tongue meet hers once more. She felt his bulge and sought the friction of it between her legs. His movements became more urgent, and Bess’ grasped for anything she could find to hold on to as the car filled with sound of heaving, gulping, loud moans. Her orgasm erupted suddenly with a litany of “oh Gods,” and Elvis thumbs stroked her cheeks as he shushed the fear and hesitancy from her.

“I gotcha, I gotcha, sshhhhh baby, don worry. Jus ride it out. That’s a good lil girl.”

Bess’ chest heaved up as she remembered how to breathe. This was the most intimate experience she had ever had, and all of her clothes were still on. She half chuckled as she steadied herself, meeting Elvis triumphant, satisfied eyes.

“Wow.”

“You ok, honey? Make me think you ain’t never tussled with a boy before.”

“Not like that.”

His mouth curled into a big crooked grin, and she laughed up into the ceiling.

“Huh, well, that’s true, Bess, and you won’t never find someone like me again, neither. I got moves you ain't never seen, honey." He smirked. "Stick with me, I told you, I’m a very good boy.”

“Good at being bad.”

Laughing, she shifted and noticed his erection still lingered in his pants and so she moved her hand to rub over it but he stilled her.

“Don’t you want me to take care of you, Tupelo?” She kissed his cheek, lips moving down his neck. “ Make you feel good? I  - I can, you know -”

Elvis patted her hand back into her lap and kissed the words out of her mouth.

“You were perfect tonight, Bess, perfect. But I jus as soon keep a lid on it. You don’t make it easy, though, baby, been makin’ me crazy all night, just walking round and sittin’ on me with all that equipment in your undercarriage.”

“Guess I know one pistol you have no trouble loading.”

Elvis tilted his neck back, laughing as he squeezed her waist as they made their goodbyes over a push and pull of kisses for the next fifteen minutes.

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

Schwartz Residence, Killeen TX

9:30 p.m.

The moon followed Bess in the clear night sky as she left post, still feeling Elvis’ hands all over her, hearing his laughter in her ears. She was giddy from the blissful release she had found on his lap, it had washed away all the tension she' 'd had carrying with her through the day. Hurrying up the stairs to her house, Bess stumbled upon her mother in the kitchen making camomile tea.The creases at the corners of Mama’s large brown eyes pinched together in a big smile.

“Oh Bessie Bess, my baby, you’re home late. Want some sleepy time tea, my shayna maidel?”

Bess strode over and put her arms around her mother’s back, leaning on her shoulder as her mother poured the kettle into the teapot, her chest filled with affection.

“Sure Mamaleh, I’d love some.”

Papa’s voice rang out from his office, so she kissed her mother’s cheek and promised to be right back.

“Aw, Elizabeth, how was your day shopping with, who, Emily, was it?”

Bess leaned against the doorway of his office, glad her father was at least making the pretense of settling down for the night in his dressing gown and pajamas. A pipe was in his hand as he read over some paperwork.

“Good, Papa, thanks for asking.”

“Gut, gut, ja.” He pushed his glasses up, and looked over his desk at his daughter, taking in her slightly disheveled hair, rumpled dress and newly applied lipstick below flushed cheeks. “You know, I thought your mother made two meatloaves for supper last night.”

“Oh, well, I took some for lunch today, Papa. I didn’t know you wanted it.”

“No, ja, I was just looking for a snack earlier, but no bother, no bother.” He put his papers down. “Are you still thinking of law school, because I saw General Brandon when we were in D.C.”

“I don’t want to go do propaganda for the U.S. government, Papa.”

“Yes, well, it’s not propaganda, spatz, it’s goodwill initiatives. This war is more about minds than mines, ja? Brandon’s information program is just making sure other countries have the opportunity to experience American art and culture. Someone with your background and expertise in foreign affairs, you’d be a good fit for a post open this fall. And they want women, smart, focused, attractive women like you. You would be perfect for this job.”

Bess tapped her fingers over her belt, she had not been thinking about her research project at all, or her law school applications for that matter. No, her head had been elsewhere, and she felt pangs of shame and guilt as she considered what her father was bringing up. Her future. Specifically, he was back at it trying to convince her to work for one of the newer programs in D.C. that his colleague in Army Intelligence had founded: the United States Information Agency. Its mission was officially “public diplomacy” overseas, but Bess knew it was essentially a PR agency for the United States.

“Is it in the Berlin office?”

“Ack, Illsa, Berlin is a coveted office, you have to work your way up to it. No. Helsinki.”

“I don’t even speak Finnish, or Swedish, and -”

“It is right there at the lion’s mouth, Ilsa, there’s a lot of action in Helsinki. All the spies from Moscow are coming through it. And the goodwill tours behind the Iron Curtain go off from there. It would be, what, two years? A stepping stone to Berlin maybe?  Besides, Deutsch ist die Muttersprache, you’d pick up Swedish and Finnish like that.” Papa snapped his fingers.

“Mmmhmm. Well, you got my attention. But what about Mama?” Bess fingers clenched in a fist. “She seems like she is backsliding.”

“She doesn’t do well when her routine is disrupted, you know that. She will be fine, give her a few days to settle.” Papa sucked on his pipe, and the sweet smell of tobacco reached Bess’ nose. “And, well, you know I expect orders to INCOMS headquarters any day. That will be my last post before retirement, and I promised Mama New York after that. In the meantime, your Aunt Rachel wants to come and live with us in D.C.”

“What about Kay? I thought she wanted to go to Baylor.”

Papa’s elbow banged down on his desk, as he rearranged his paperweights, then he kept talking as he got up and put a jazz record on.

“Katharina applied to Georgetown, Radcliffe, Smith and many, many other colleges, she will be fine. She would also be fine at Baylor if she is determined to follow her silly friends there.”

Bess nodded, thinking of the girls in Kay’s high school class whose mothers had been in Baylor’s sororities, and how they had been giggling about life together next year. She thought of her own decision to stay in Texas for college, at the time she had wanted to follow her friends to a big school in a big city like Austin. She turned on her heel to head back to the kitchen and Mama’s camomile tea, muttering into the hallway in from to her. “Helsinki, huh?”

Her father’s voice followed her, his eyes narrowed at the smudges of lipstick Elvis had kissed into the back of Bess’ neck.

“Just think about, ja? You have so much potential, maus. I hate to see you loose sight of your goals.”

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

Click here to read Chapter Six: Guided Missiles

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[whositmcwhatsit]

Stay the Same

A/N: I am so close to the wire with this one! Angsty smut written for last week's prompt: army Elvis (We're sort of army-adjacent because I'm a rule bender.)

As always, shout out to my people: @thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @ellie-24, @missmaywemeetagain, @from-memphis-with-love, @vintageshanny for love, support, encouragement and deep, depraved horniness.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I need you, darlin’. You don’t understand. I need you somethin’ awful.”

It played over and over in Kitty’s head as she sped along the dark highway, praying that none of the wildlife she glimpsed skittering about at the edge of the road decided to do a suicide run in front of her car. She could explain away taking the car, an emergency maybe, a sick friend or someone who was having trouble at home. Lots of her friends were getting married right now, and there were always dramas in the early days. It was plausible. What she wouldn’t be able to explain to her mother was why her station wagon had an armadillo smushed in the fender; not many of them wandering around their suburban streets.

Oh Lord, what was she doing? She lifted her foot off the gas slightly and started to look for a place to safely pull in. She was not a flighty, foolish kind of girl. Ask anyone who knew her and they would tell you that Kitty Cowan was not the spontaneous type. For a girl who graduated early so that she could travel around performing in a country and western duo with her brother, Kitty had a surprisingly level head on her shoulders. Or she used to, until a certain Hillbilly Cat had wandered onto their roadshow with his Blue Moon Boys and promptly melted the sense right out of her mind.

Back then, all he’d have to do was stare at her with those shy, hooded eyes and flutter those long, thick lashes and she would be doing his laundry and pressing his shirts like she was a combination laundress/housewife. Her brother Chick, knowing how she pitched a fit when their mama asked her to help out with chores at home, would gawp at her like she had gone and sold her brain for a dime, but all Kitty needed was that lopsided grin and the press of Elvis’ soft lips against her cheek when she handed over the clean, pressed clothes and it seemed worth it. More, she felt like she had done something important for someone who was worth it.

Only, all that craziness had ended a couple of years before when Elvis had moved up to the big leagues and Chick and Kitty, having grown bored of the same old shows at the same old places, decided to stash their guitars in the garage and settle down for a real, normal life. There was never a question that they could follow him, Elvis paved his own pathway through the wilderness and none of them were quite talented enough to follow it.

Which was fine, Chick had got a job at a radio station, putting that gift of the gab to good use, and he was doing well at it, travelling around again as an emcee for the new rock n roll shows that had burst onto the scene, feeding off the teenage excitement. Sometimes he’d run across Elvis and get to spend time shooting the breeze backstage.

‘He’s just the same,’ he’d report back to Kitty, ‘His performance has gotten real smooth, but off stage he’s still the same old unassuming fellow. Everyone I talk to can’t say enough about him.’

It seemed like no one could say enough about him. Kitty couldn’t read a newspaper without an article about how that shy, charming boy was ruining the youth of America. She often thought about him quietly playing gospel songs on the piano between shows when she read that pastors were denouncing him as Satan in sideburns from their pulpits. When she saw him on television, jiggling and gyrating right there on the screen, she could still see the playful, bashful boy she knew, but there was something else now, something shiny twinkling in his eyes that she didn’t think had been there before. She wondered if that was what had everyone so flustered and furious about him.

Now that dangerous threat, that affront to polite society, was headed to the Army. Chick had spent night after night for the past few weeks fielding calls to the radio station from wailing girls calling to protest their heart throb being stolen by Uncle Sam and also requesting his new single. Chick said he couldn’t work out if it was career suicide or promotional genius, because everything Elvis released was shooting up the charts. And Kitty hadn’t thought much about it at all until the phone rang at home and Chick, up in Memphis for a series of dances, was shouting down the line saying that he had someone with him that wanted to speak to her.

“Hi Kitty Cat? You there?” Kitty’s stomach did a strange loop de loop that had her dinner almost returning the way it came. She recognised the voice immediately, even though it was louder than normal, much louder, trying to be heard over the racket in the background.

“Elvis? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me, darlin’. You forgotten me already, huh?”

“No, no, of course not. Only I can hardly hear you! Where are you?” She heard fumbling and Elvis’ voice off in the distance, followed by some loud guffaws, then a thumping noise. When he got back on the line, it was quiet in the background.

“Had to shut myself in the dang closet,” he informed her, chuckling quietly. “Hi, hi Kitty honey, how are you? It’s been a hundred years. Where are you?” Kitty frowned at the receiver.

“You called me at my house, Elvis.”

“I know,” he laughed in that silly, self-conscious way he had. “I meant, why ain’t you here? Why ain’t you here where I need you, baby?”

Kitty didn’t know quite what to say. She cradled the receiver, feeling how cool the plastic was against her rapidly heating cheek.

“Hey, you still there? Damn stupid-ass phone, I-“

“I’m still here,” she murmured, touching her face, her hair and the back of her neck like she was reminding herself that she had a physical, material body that prevented her from floating down the telephone line that she wanted to.

“Oh, huh, thought I lost ya. You can come, can’t you, honey? You know they’re sending me away soon and I might not have another chance to see you before I go.” He’d had the last two years, a cool, doubtful voice in her head pointed out and she nodded at it before she disregarded it completely.

“Come where? Where are you?”

“Oh, right now? Right now we’re at Hotel Chisca, helpin’ out my pal Dewey on his, uh, show. Red, Hot and Blue, you know it?”

“Yes, I’m aware of Dewey Phillips and his show.” She wondered if he thought she had stopped existing the minute he had left her behind. Perhaps he thought she had been packed away in a closet with her guitar.

“How soon can you get here, darlin’?”

“Tonight? Elvis, I-”

“Now, I don’t wanna hear that you can’t make it. My days are numbered, honey. I tell ya, I just wanna see as many folks as I can before- before it’s all over.” He went hoarse at the end like it choked him up to even say it, and her heart panged for him. In her head she was already imagining herself running upstairs to change and sneaking her mother’s keys from her purse.

“Will you still be there?” she asked finally. “At the Hotel Chisca, by the time I get there?”

“I’ll wait all night if I have to. I need you, darlin’. You don’t understand. I need you somethin’ awful.”

After several aborted u-turns and a whole two-way argument with herself as she hit downtown, Kitty pulled into the parking lot for the hotel. She had been listening to Red, Hot and Blue on the way and Dewey had been hyping up his listeners with the news that Elvis was haunting the corridors and was even choosing some of the records he was playing, so she wasn’t surprised to find the lobby of the hotel packed with kids. Luckily, she spotted Chick having a laugh and a joke with some of the girls up on the mezzanine floor where WHBQ had its offices and booths and she called to him, beckoning with her arm as much as her little black bolero jacket would allow. His eyes widened and he hurried over.

“Kit, what in God’s name, girl?” He waved to the security guard, letting him know that Kitty could be allowed through. “Do Mama and Pop know you’re out this late by yourself?”

“I’m a grown woman, Charles,” she informed him. “And of course they don’t.” She felt bubbles of anticipation in her belly as Chick opened the door into the corridor and revealed a lively group laughing and talking over each other. At the edge of the group, but somehow still seemingly the focus, was an unmistakable tall, dark-haired boy.

“Well, folks, look what the cat drug in,” said Chick in his charming brotherly way.

Leaning against the wall, laughing and about to take a sip of Pepsi from the bottle in his hand, Elvis glanced over his shoulder and straightened sharply. The look on his face would have been comical if it hadn’t crushed Kitty so completely. He looked shocked, like he had not been in the slightest bit serious when he had begged her to come, like he had not thought her stupid enough to rush off into the night the minute he asked. Her face burnt with embarrassment and she leant back against Chick’s hand that was between her shoulder blades, trying to retreat.

As her vision fractured and blurred under the sting of mortification, Elvis shoved his bottle into his cousin Gene’s chest and strode towards her, giving Chick’s shoulder a squeeze even as he was pushing him away. She exhaled sharply when Elvis crashed into her and squeezed all the air out of her body. His arms were locked around her, his face buried in the crook of her neck and his hips were jammed against hers. She was trapped. The guys in the corridor snorted and guffawed like it was part of a skit for their entertainment, but the longer Elvis remained clinging to her, the quieter they became.

“I can’t believe you’re really here!” he murmured, finally drawing back, but only enough so that she could stare up into his heavy-lidded eyes and feel the breath from his mouth as he spoke. “You came all the way up here just for me?”

“You asked me,” she returned, the edge still in her voice because it still stung. Not that he thought she was pathetic now, but that he thought she didn’t care enough to come when he asked.

“Not everybody would’ve,” he said softly, adjusting his tight arm around her waist, tugging her in just a little bit closer.

“I’m not everybody,” she returned, studying his face.

“I know,” he said in a small voice, pecking her softly on the tip of her cold nose. He was almost cross-eyed staring so intently at her with their faces so close together. All of a sudden, that irrepressible, dazzling smile spread across his face and she had turned away from the glare. It hurt to look at.

“Come meet everybody.” He grabbed her hand and yanked her before she had absorbed his words, making her totter a little on her heels as he rushed back to his group. “Hey y’all, this is that little girl I told you about.”

Kitty’s inside froze when she heard those words, her chest tight and heavy. He wouldn’t have told them, he promised!

“Chick and Kitty here were real kind to me when I first started out. Man, I was so green, most everybody laughed me off the damn stage, but Kitty Cat-” He wrapped his arm around her waist again, tugging her into his side and pulling her off balance, making her stumble into him. “-She made sure I didn’t go down in flames inside of a week.”

The guys nodded politely, most of them eyed her chest and ran their eyes down her legs, but it was the handful of girls in the group that examined her most closely. Kitty could feel them measuring and portioning her up, their sharp eyes noting the body language and the way that Elvis couldn’t seem to bring himself to loosen his grip on her. Women saw things that men missed.

They lingered longer in the corridor, someone explaining that Dewey was about to interview Elvis, and everyone was laughing and joking. Elvis was boisterous in a way that Kitty had never really seen before, fooling around with his cousin like they were the two stooges, play fighting and talking in made up words that no one else could understand. The girls kept trying to join in, grabbing his arm and knocking into him, and he would get distracted for a minute, before he retreated back to where Kitty was standing with Chick. She was wondering what she had dragged herself out of the house for, because it wasn’t this brash, loud boy whose thumb had just ‘accidentally’ grazed a pretty blonde girl’s breast as she grabbed him by the waist.

Taking a couple of clumsy steps backwards, he wrapped his fingers around Kitty’s wrist and angled his head behind him, motioning for her to walk backwards with him. In the most ridiculous pantomime, they slipped away, giggling as they ducked inside a door, and Kitty found herself standing in a storage closet, a bare light bulb hanging over their heads.

“Was this where you were when we were talking on the phone?” she asked, glancing around at a broom and the cans and bottles on the shelves.

“Huh? Oh yeah, this here is my office at the Hotel Chisca,” he intoned in a deep, officious voice. “Not much room, but just take in those spectacular views!” She scanned the narrow cupboard and then frowned at him, flushing when she caught his eyes sliding down her body.

“Stop it,” she muttered, shoving him. He instantly placed his hand over hers on his chest and held it there. She could feel his heart pounding beneath the warm cotton of his shirt. “You used to be such a nice boy!”

“I’m still a nice boy,” he returned absently, his free hand slipping onto the small of her back and pulling her in. “Just like you’re still…” He bit his lip and his nostrils flared slightly before he exhaled. “…Sorry, what was I sayin’, honey? I lost track.”

Kitty shook her head, but she was grinning as she sank against him, her mouth finding his as if no time at all had passed. He tasted the way he always had, sweet and warm, which, when combined with the soft muskiness of being enveloped by him, brought her straight back to cheap motel rooms and hastily snatched minutes and hours on the road.

“Hell, I miss this,” he sighed, pulling her with him as he leant against the far wall and the sign that said, ‘All items property of the Hotel Chisca signed by Management.’ “Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty I don’t miss about those early days, the lousy motel rooms, havin’ to grab shut-eye in the back seat while Bill drove my car like a damn madman, washing up in dirty dressing rooms… No, but this, this I miss.”

“You mean to tell me that a big, fancy movie star like you doesn’t have girls just hanging off him at every turn? Because what I saw out there makes you out a liar.” He ducked his head so she only caught a glimpse of his wide, radiant grin.

“Naw, I ain’t saying that,” he admitted to his shoes. “There’s girls, there’s girls all right… None of them are you, though, honey.”

No one else could have said that so sincerely, she reflected, and had it received that way too. She didn’t feel like laughing, because she desperately wanted it to be true even as she knew it probably wasn’t.

“And I ain’t gonna be a movie star much longer.” The light faded from his smile, doors slamming shut and windows being shuttered. “Just gonna go back to being little ole Elvis, whoever the hell he is.”

Kitty put both her hands on his chest, a little surprised at how easily the old familiarity came back. Chick was wrong, she reflected, he wasn’t the same, but somehow he wasn’t any different either. Sliding her palms down his chest, she caught the way his breath hitched as she continued down his stomach towards his belt.

“He was- is- a sweet, talented, devastatingly good-looking man and no amount of time in the army will change that,” she informed him with absolute assurance.  He huffed a laugh, tugging her hips in against his, and she tried not to notice there was a firmness poking against her pencil-skirt now.

“Devastatingly good-looking, huh,” he replied with a grin. “I seem to remember you thinkin’ I was pretty goofy looking at first.”

“Well, that ain’t my fault, you were!!” she protested and he burst out in loud laughter, throwing back his head.

“You turned out all right though,” she continued with a playful wink. 

“I wore ya down,” he nodded, his features growing calmer and still, those sleepy looking eyes back and fixed on her. “Wore you down pretty good if I recall.” Kitty felt a wave of goosebumps crash down her spine as his hands descended, cupping her ass.

“Elvis,” she murmured, turning away her face, but making no effort to break free of his hands. “We should-“

“Get a hotel room?” he finished with a small smile and a lift of an eyebrow. He said it in a way that meant he could make it into a joke if she refused, but also sounded serious if she agreed.

“My brother and half of Memphis are outside that door,” she reminded him.

“I can handle Chick,” he murmured. “No one would even notice, honey, I promise.” He seemed to realise at the same time that she did how that made him sound: practised, and skilled at impulsive sex in hotel rooms. In response, he draped himself over her, his lips pressed into the crook of her neck, hot breath against her skin.

“I just- I just wanna- Wanna spend some time with you without everyone watchin’. I want you all to myself again, darlin’, like we used to.” She opened her mouth to respond. “You know, I’m heading off to war soon…”

“There’s no war, Elvis,” she answered slightly reproachfully, as if she was stupid enough to fall for that.

“Well, you never know,” he shrugged diffidently. “And you gotta get your kicks while you can.” The effect was ruined by the smirk he was wearing.

“Aw, Hollywood went and got you real good, didn’t it,” she remarked, shaking her head.

She didn’t mean it as a condemnation. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing that he had become more confident, more aware of the effect that he could have on people, girls mostly, but she was a little sad. She had liked that boy, the one that had trembled when she first sat on the end of his bed and unfastened the buttons of her blouse. She still sometimes caught herself thinking of how he used to look, mouth open and eyelashes fluttering as he moved above her; the little lip curl as he flushed with pleasure, twitching in her hands.

Whatever she intended, Elvis’ face dropped and his brows drew together, making him look like a confused, sad little boy.

“Now, wait a minute,” he said, starting forward and somehow looming over her in the confined space. “How is that fair, huh? You got no idea the- the bullshit I gotta go through. I mean, I ain’t complaining, I’m blessed, I know that, but… If I act like I’m enjoying myself I’m big-headed and- and I’ve forgotten where I came from. If I try to seem humble I’m ungrateful and a liar… Hell, what am I supposed to do? How do I keep everyone happy?”

“Well, you can’t,” Kitty replied, reaching up and giving one of his beseeching hands a squeeze. “Nobody can make everybody happy all the time, honey, not even you.” He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but someone started banging on the door, disillusioning them that they had ever sneaked off unseen in the first place. They were calling him for his interview with Dewey and he hollered out that he was coming.

“Don’t go nowhere,” he instructed her, squeezing her arm as he sidled past her to the door. “I mean it now, Kitty.” She scoffed as he watched him being dragged along the corridor by his pals, wondering where he got the audacity to demand anything from her. But, of course she stayed, even as she judged herself for it, standing with Chick in the producer’s office, looking through the glass window into the booth where Elvis was teasing the girls peering in and grinning at Dewey’s hyper antics.

“You know what you’re doin’?” Chick asked out of the side of his mouth as they stood smiling.

“Rarely if ever,” she replied, shooting him a wry look. “Relax, Chickadoo, it’s just one night.”

“Yeah, those sound like famous last words.”

After the interview, Elvis strode out of the booth like he was on a mission, announcing that he was hungry and they were leaving. He rushed past Kitty, grabbing her wrist as he passed and not even slowing in consideration for the fact that she was wearing heels.

They took the service elevator down to the kitchens, Elvis bouncing on his heels and humming to himself. He started nudging Gene and they inexplicably engaged in some sort of battle to kick each other in the shin, even as he was entwining his fingers with Kitty’s.

Sneaking through the kitchens, they skidded around cooks and waiters, bursting out into the delivery bay at the back of the hotel. Kitty started to move towards her car, Elvis towards his and they engaged in a little tug of war that ended up with her skittering into his side because of her stupid shoes.

“What you doin’, we’re taking my car,” he said, looking at her like she had lost her mind.

“I need to drive home,” she countered. “I’ll need my car.” He gritted his teeth and looked intensely frustrated for a minute, before shrugging it off and announcing that Gene would drive her car. Gene seemed as unimpressed with this idea as she was.

“Look, everybody needs to stop coming up with goddamn problems!” Elvis snapped. “Y’all are doing my head in.”

It seemed a disproportionate reaction for a minor inconvenience to Kitty, but no one else seemed perturbed or surprised by his outburst. She handed over her mother’s keys with misgivings, making Gene promise, promise, that he would drive carefully what was technically a stolen car.

A bunch of people piled into the big, gleaming Cadillac and Kitty felt hemmed in pressed into Elvis’ side as he swung the wheel, trying to avoid the knot of people that spotted him and immediately tried to crowd the hood as if being run over by Elvis Presley would be an honour.

They drove over to Krystal and the car was flooded with greasy bags of their little square burgers.

“Didn’t you boys get Krystal’s last night too?” asked a blonde girl in the backseat, squashed very much like a slab of meat between two large guys.

“Yes, ‘cause they’re damn good,” one of the men said, shoving nearly the entire small bun in his mouth.

“Gotta make the most of it, huh, EP? They don’t serve chow like this in the service.”

Elvis had been fiddling with the radio knobs, moving his head in time with the music as he chewed, his cheeks filled like a hamster. At his friend’s words, his eyebrows dropped and he shot the guy a death look, which shut him up quickly. It seemed like Elvis was getting sick of hearing about what his life was going to be like after induction.

The atmosphere in the car got a little dense with nobody knowing what to say to ease the tension, when Elvis ducked down, his head pressed against Kitty’s chest, as he sucked on her straw from the cup in her lap.

“Hey!” she cried, overacting to counter the quiet, “that’s mine, you got your own!” She had her hand on the back of his neck and gave the hair at the nape of his neck a quick scratch with her nails, which made him shiver adorably. 

“I drank it already,” he shrugged sheepishly, sitting back up and pouting. Sighing, she offered him her cup and he grinned as he took it, repaying her with a lip-smacking kiss on the cheek.

“I like the hair,” she said softly, making the most of the relative quiet while his goofy, boisterous friends were still regrouping. “The black, I mean.”

“Oh yeah, well, it just looks better on film. Actors have been doing it all the way back to Tom Mix and Douglas Fairbanks, honey, right up to Tony Curtis today. Uh, I mean, I’m not comparing myself to them-” She nodded, reaching out a finger to snag a lock that had fallen across his forehead, giving it a gentle tug.

“It looks good,” she told him. “You look like a real movie star.” His lips curved into a more natural smile and he took another pull from the straw, his cheeks colouring slightly.

They drove around for about an hour, listening to the radio while Elvis took her on a whistlestop tour of significant places to him. They drove to Sun Studios. He wanted her to meet Sam Phillips and he thought that Sam might be up late like he often was, but the lights were out and the place all locked up.

“You know, I already met him a few times,” Kitty reassured him when he sighed and let himself drop back against the sooty wall at the back of the building. “Back when we were touring with y’all. I think Chick even talked to him about recording here, but it didn’t work out.”

“I was just hopin’ to see him,” he mumbled, his head bowed as he kicked out at a clump of grass that had fought its way through the concrete. “It feels like… like time’s runnin’ out.” She moved closer and gripped the bottom of his boxy striped sports jacket, giving it a tug.

“It’s just a pause, not the end,” she promised him.

“You can’t know that. No one knows for sure. I’ll tell ya, the Colonel and the folks at RCA Victor, and Mr Wallis, they all say right pretty things ‘bout how it’ll be when I get out, the plans they got to keep people interested and remembering me while I’m gone, but-“ He sighed a deep, chest-heaving sigh and drew Kitty in by the waist, squeezing her against him like he needed the comfort. “Look at how quick I came up, ain’t no one to say I won’t go down just as fast. Or maybe someone else’ll come onto the scene and all my fans’ll-“

“I know, because I know,” Kitty interjected, seeing how he was spiralling, one of his hands rubbing his face with increasing vigour. “I remember when I saw you sing for the first time, you were shaking and could barely put two words together between your songs. Even then I knew that you were something special, that you were different from the rest of us, and I was right, wasn’t I? I’m right about this too.”

“You know because you know,” he huffed a laugh and cupped her cheek with his hand, rubbing gently with his thumb. “Well, I’m convinced, Kitty Cat, by that stunning argument.” She gave his chest a shove with her forearm and ducked away as he laughed, trying to kiss her.

“You laugh now, boy, but when you’re out there in a couple of years buried under gold records and adoring fans, starring in all the movies, I expect you to come find me and beg for my forgiveness. On your knees!”

“Oh, I’ll always come on my knees for you, baby,” he intoned in a low, bass voice into the crook of her neck.

“You are so bad,” she giggled, smacking his shoulder. He nuzzled and nibbled on her neck, gripping her in a bear hold to stop her from wriggling away. Although they were sheltered by the shadows of the parking lot behind the studio, Kitty was aware that they were in public and that, at any moment, one of his friends might get bored waiting in the car and catch them.

“Elvis, Elvis honey, come on now, stop, people can see. Elvis!” She grabbed a handful of the hair at the back of his head, giving it a sharp tug to get him to let her loose.

“Come home with me,” he said one breath, squinting down at her, looking deliciously rumpled and excited. “I wanna show you- I can show you-”

“What about your family?” she asked in a low voice, her palms sliding up beneath his jacket, twitching as she followed the lines and curves, lingering over the peaks of his erect nipples beneath his shirt. He shuddered and didn’t waste time trying to answer, hooking her by the waist and merely lifting her over the low wall that separated the parking lot from the alleyway at the side of the building.

“We’re heading home,” he mumbled to his passengers, slamming his door. The car peeled away from the kerb with a high-pitched squeal. Nobody spoke and the journey passed in a blur of silence. Kitty’s eyes stayed fixed on Elvis’s white knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel. She barely registered the gate with the music notes, the winding drive or the impressive portico and columns.

“Well, I’ll see y’all later,” was all he said as he climbed out of the car, hands grabbing for Kitty’s forearm and tugging her towards him as he backed towards the brick steps. Kitty wasn’t sure whether anyone answered as she was too busy focusing on keeping up with him as he opened the front door. He turned back to her, grinning like a little kid and put his finger to his lips, pointing towards the stairs. Kitty slipped off her shoes, exhaling as she stretched her toes, and managed to grab them before he tugged her again, taking off up the stairs at a breakneck pace. She hissed at him to slow down, but he just shushed her and she could hear him laughing under his breath.

Kitty barely registered the dark room before Elvis shut the door behind her and pressed her into it, his hot mouth on hers snatching away her breath. Safely away from prying eyes, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and moaned into his mouth, pressing herself against him. He froze and pulled back, but she could barely see his face in the darkness and was about to ask what was wrong, when he gathered her up in his arms and threw her onto the bed. She shrieked, hastily slapping her hands over her mouth as she bounced on the mattress.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he murmured, kicking off his shoes and throwing his jacket onto a chair like he was competing in a race. “This room’s supposed to be soundproof. Let’s test it out, huh.”

It was reassuring to see him clamber awkwardly onto the bed and throw himself down next to her just like he used to, a sign that the boy that she had cared for was not all gone, just hidden in pockets and alcoves of behaviour and words. 

“Kitty honey?” he asked suddenly once he had settled himself down on the pillows and was looking up at her with a slightly furrowed brow. “You know we don’t have to-“

She dove down, mouth catching his and draped herself across him. She felt his lips curved into a smile as his hands settled onto her back, soon grazing her curves until they were palming the weight of her ass, squeezing slightly.

Kitty’s body was buzzing and tingling, she could already feel the muscles contracting in her stomach and lower down and she tried to find some relief from the ache, but could barely move her legs within her tight pencil skirt. 

Elvis tried to follow her up as she withdrew, moaning a little when she pulled away, and she snorted at his forlorn expression as she drew up to her knees on the bed. His eyes widened as she shrugged off her jacket and started to unbutton the body-hugging blouse beneath.

Like a true gentleman, he was up on his knees too in seconds to help her. He was more a hindrance than help, his long fingers getting in the way of her slipping the tiny buttons out of the holes, but he seemed to want to be useful. He stared down at her bare chest and bra like a boy who had never seen either, which was funny because Kitty knew for certain that he had. Then, slowly, carefully, he reached out to cup the back of her head and bring her closer, kissing her like she was one of his co-stars and he was the romantic hero.

It was an intricate dance of shadows, Elvis moving with confidence and tenderness, while in her head she was seeing the first time when his hands had trembled and his ripe bottom lip glistened as he had panted, moving too slowly and awkwardly. She had had to guide him, her hands on his hips, around his ass, urging him to move faster, to stop apologising and asking if she was okay.

None of that now, it was more than a dance, it was a routine. Her eyes followed him as he kissed between her breasts, the tip of his nose grazing her skin as he made his way down, taking a detour to lick her nipples, circling them with his tongue before sucking. She arched up into him, noting the contrast of his hair as it splayed against her pale skin.

As his fingers grazed the inside of her thighs, she thought about how his body had changed, filling out and becoming broader, and there was hair on his chest that wasn’t there before. She raked her fingers through it as he moved between her legs, his eyes sparkling with tenderness and a little amusement.

“You okay?” he murmured, biting down on a smile, though his eyebrow twitched against his best efforts.

“You know, I told you that if you ever asked me that again I’d pummel you,” she gasped, tilting her hips so that he was grinding down onto the right spot, her nerves fluttering out and down the inside of her thighs.

“I know, I know,” he laughed breathlessly, his open mouth going slack as he started to inch into her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, tightening her thighs to bring him in closer, faster, harder. One thing hadn’t changed, he was still too careful and gentle with her. He got the message though, thrusting hard until their hips were pressed together, slamming a hollow moan from her as he grunted.

She adjusted her grip on his shoulders, realising that she might need a tighter grip, and stared up at his face. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he adjusted to being inside her, to the friction and the pressure, but under the weight of her eyes, he tugged his upper lip up into his famous sneer, drawing out and then grinding back down just as quickly. She gasped and pressed her feet down onto the back of his thighs, finding a way to cling on as he demonstrated exactly how he had earned one of his cruder nicknames.

Somehow, they got turned around and they were horizontal across the vast landscape of his enormous bed, Kitty’s head hanging back off the mattress. He grabbed a handful of her hair as it trailed down towards the carpet, pulling her head back further, nipping and sucking at her pulse point at the same time as he pressed and rubbed and circled her clit and filled her too. Each time she opened her eyes he had this sly, mischievous look on his face like he knew how good he was, like he was proud to show her what he had learned.

Flushing with warmth, buzzing and trembling, she felt the crest of the wave beginning to build between her legs and she whined a little, gasping for air, wanting the sensation to only ever build and never peak. He tugged at her hair again, this time a little sharper, so that she opened her eyes and her vision swam and then slid back into crystal clear focus.

“Say it, darlin’,” he mumbled breathlessly. “I wanna hear you say it.” He drove into her harder and faster, making her cry out and he tugged her hair again until she relented and cried out his name as she came.

Seconds later, he pulled out and she felt him pulse against her belly as he crushed her mouth beneath his. She could barely breathe with his heaving chest pressing down on her, but she didn’t mind, it would be a wonderful way to go.

Finally, he pulled himself away, passing her his shirt to clean up, and he pressed himself to her back, tugging her backwards onto him like a blanket.

“You know why I kept asking if you were okay that first time?” he murmured, exhaling deeply into her ear as he drooped with exhaustion and satisfaction.

“Why?” she whispered, though she already knew the answer.

“Because I was fuckin’ far from okay,” he giggled, his words slurring and sliding together. “I was scared half to death, thought my heart was gonna pound itself right out of my chest… ‘Bout how I feel now I reckon.”

“You were fine then and you’re gonna be fine this time too,” she promised, reaching up to squeeze one of the arms he had folded around her chest.

“I sure hope you’re right.” He yawned, pressing a kiss onto her neck before dropping back onto his pillow. “You usually are. I just hope everything stays the same.”

 It seemed a strange and futile thing to wish for, especially for a man whose life had not stopped changing in the past three or four years, but she crossed her fingers as she relished the time that she had left in his arms and wished it alongside him. Let everything stay the same.

[mollyroseswanson]

[satnindoll]

Mini fanfic

Warning: This is just a wholesome fanfic but it might lead up to mature romantic plots. The rest just have fun reading.

Elvis & Y/N (your name) also would be saying E/C (eye colour) and, H/C (hair colour)

It was 1970 in Las Vegas, and Elvis was performing onstage at the Hilton Hotel International. Y/N was in the middle row standing while Elvis was dancing and singing “You don't have to say you love me.”

Y/N was in awe of the power of Elvis's voice, and the passion he put into his shows. Y/N was visiting Vegas since she's always wanted to see Elvis perform, she has been a fan since she was a wee child. Dancing and singing along to his music using a hairbrush as a microphone, Y/N couldn't believe it was real, almost close to touching Elvis. As the show came to an end, Elvis usually closed the night with the song; “I Can't Help Falling In Love With You.”

He got down offstage and kissed every girl and shook every man’s hand, he was also a joker when he reached another guy pretending to kiss him when he shook his hand. Laughing along Y/N saw the human, humourous side of Elvis which was wholesome to see.

As Y/N was glancing at the women getting kissed, with beehive hairstyles, caked makeup faces with a bunch of blush, she was just natural, a dab of blush and eyeliner, mascara to bring more focus to her eyes. She would've never thought that this day would come when Elvis would give her one of his famous kisses. She glanced at a girl who was ignored by him because of the duration of time in which he felt bad. But when he stopped in his tracts staring at Y/N, he was starstruck but her beauty, especially with her bright, jeweled E/C.

He cupped her porcelain face, and her skin was soft on his calloused, soft hands. Leaning and tilting his head to the side, he pursed his soft, plump lips that looked and felt like marshmallows on your pink, glossed lips. It was a tender, soft, passionate kiss with meaning. You both felt electricity flowing through your veins. Elvis pulled back giving Y/N a wink.

Y/N was shocked but also had butterflies fluttering in her stomach. How could this have happened? Y/N pondered. What she didn't know is that Elvis whispered to one of his friends/ bodyguards from his clan called; “The Memphis Mafia.” or TMM for short. His name was Sonny, and he was tall almost as tall as Elvis, walking up to Y/N. You became shy and felt awkward that he was walking up to you when your mother taught you never to talk to strangers. Introducing himself he said that Elvis would like to meet you. You were stunned and flabbergasted that such a star would want to talk with you.

You arrived in his suite as Sonny gave the secret knock. As Elvis yelled, “Come in.” Sonny opened the door and there he was. In his comfortable change of clothes which were pyjamas, and his hair styled. Looking handsome as ever. He begins to introduce himself to you like the southern gentleman he was. He tells you to take a seat and make yourself at home. You begin to ask him why you. Elvis chuckled and nodded as he spoke with his southern drawl. “Well, I just couldn't stop looking at you. You also were cute in the way you marvelled at me. Tell me where are you from?” what he couldn't believe next was that you were born in his birthplace and had been living there since you were a baby. “You are from Tupelo?! No way? God, I miss that place. Well not when I was poor but we had some good memories, not all were bad. How is it there now? I haven't been there in like forever.” he chuckled. Y/N began to chuckle at his excitement you began to explain that everything was going fine and that it was getting known because that's where he was born. You begin to have a lot in common with each other and your grandparents are friends with his grandparents. You begin to have similar interests in books, theology, spirituality, and motorcycles. Elvis confessed how he felt and that his relationships tend to go faster than regular folks because his lifestyle doesn't make him build relationships slowly. But you were okay with it. You both shared a common demon; loneliness. You both had a deep discussion going on for hours until it was a quarter to 2:00 You looked at the time and were stunned at how late you were staying. Elvis suggested that you stay the night and he had an extra room. You knew staying at a stranger's place was bad but you began to trust Elvis, he always kept his word. “I will never do anything that you don't want me to do.” Y/N was suspicious at first but then she agreed. She excused herself to get her things but funny enough her suitcases were already in the room. She found it strange but Elvis explained that he told Sonny to take her key. She nodded. As the MM turned in for the night you and Elvis began talking more, you couldn't stop looking at his lips, oh how soft they were. He knew Y/N was eyeing his lips, so he pulled her close and began kissing her tenderly and softly. They spent the night making out. Till the next week, Elvis and Y/N have been spending a lot of time together, they went on secret dates, and sightseeing. She was happy she decided to go to Las Vegas to see the king of rock but to her, he was her soulmate, her kindred spirit. Girls were jealous left and right, the Memphis Mafia thought they had Elvis out of their hands and did not care. Y/N saw the toxicity in the “friend.” group. She pleaded with Elvis and hoped he would open his eyes. Only Joe and Charlie were his true friends and he'll always have her by his side. Elvis couldn't believe the betrayal he got from his “friends.” he was deeply hurt but kept them in his life to work for him but the damage was done for any repair of the friendship. They wouldn't know his private life anymore. He was happy he found Y/N, she kept him in line. They then lived happily ever after at Graceland.

Fin

[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.

[vintageshanny]

Waiting for Love - Part One

He’s a Married Man

I felt inspired and started a brand new series! It’s a bit different from anything else I’ve done, and I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback! ❤️

Content: Story starts in summer of 1970, marriage problems, infidelity, smut (lighter in this first chapter but still there), fun Elvis-y things, 18+

Read the full series here!

Early July 1970

Vivien walked slowly past the Graceland gate on her way home from work. She always told herself that if she didn’t actually stop and wait, she wasn’t one of those crazy obsessed fans. She was just a normal curious person. Who walked five blocks out of her way every day in a pathetic attempt to catch a glimpse of Elvis Presley. There were a few other fans milling about, but it was too hot for a huge crowd. Right as she was about to cross over the driveway entrance, a big black car came roaring down the street, barely slowing to turn into the drive where the gate was starting to open. Vivien’s jaw dropped open as Elvis himself leaned out of the passenger window with a big smile.

“Hey, honey, didn’t mean ta scare ya. Got a crazy driver here,” he said, pointing a thumb over at the stocky man behind the wheel. Elvis gave Vivien a quick glance up and down and smiled again. “Were ya waitin’ for me?”

Vivien smoothed out her knee-length skirt and quickly glanced down to make sure none of the buttons on her short-sleeved blouse had popped open. She was always having trouble with that third one down. The one that would reveal the most, of course. So far, so good. “Oh, um,” she stumbled over her words. “I, um, was walking home from work, but it is nice to see you though.” Her face turned red as Elvis chuckled.

“It’s nice ta see you too, honey. It’s too hot ta be sittin’ out here talkin’, but why don’t ya come to the movies with us t’night,” he said it as more of statement than a question. “A group of us are goin’ to the Memphian. Just come in the side door at 10:00 and say Joe invited you.” The driver rolled his eyes at this, but neither Vivien nor Elvis seemed to notice.

Vivien tried in vain to keep her cool as she exclaimed, “Oh, wow, okay, I’d love to.” As she pushed her glasses up on her nose, she made eye-contact with Elvis right as he was also adjusting his own tinted glasses. They both laughed, and Elvis gave her a little wink.

“Okay, honey, I’ll see ya t’night,” he called out as the car continued up the winding driveway. Vivien was pretty sure her smile was lighting up the whole city as she continued her walk home.

As soon as she got inside her apartment, she picked up the phone. “Roxanne, I need you to come over right now. It’s a fashion emergency.” Ten minutes later, her best friend arrived at the door from her apartment two buildings down, panting and out of breath.

“I got here as fast as I could! What’s going on? Hot date?” Roxanne asked as she barged in and flopped on the couch.

Vivien bobbed up and down excitedly as she squealed, “I’m going to the Memphian with Elvis Presley!”

“What?! When?!” Roxanne exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and then sinking back down onto it in shock.

“Tonight! I told you my walking by the gate every day would pay off eventually,” Vivien announced triumphantly. “And you have to go with me! I’m sure he wouldn’t mind; he said it would be a big group.”

Roxanne’s face dropped a little bit. “I can’t tonight!” she wailed. “Michael made us reservations for this fancy anniversary dinner, and he’ll kill me if I bail on him. Especially for another man. I’ll just have to live vicariously through your stories about the night,” she sighed dreamily.

“Has it been one year already? I didn’t know you had it in you,” Vivien teased.

“Oh, very funny, goody two-shoes,” Roxanne retorted. “At least I’ve had something in me.” Vivien blushed at that dig. She’d always been holding out for something really special. “Speaking of that,” Roxanne continued, “are you gonna try to hook up with him tonight?”

“Who? Elvis?” Vivien asked with shock.

“No, the pope. Of course Elvis! He invited you personally, he probably thought you looked cute in your little secretary outfit,” Roxanne said with a knowing wink.

“N-no, he-he’s a married man,” Vivien sputtered out. “I’m just excited to be around him and maybe talk to him. I bet he’s so interesting to talk to.”

“Hmm,” Roxanne tutted disapprovingly. “Well, I think you should go for it. I heard that marriage has been on the rocks since the beginning anyway,” she said as Vivien shot her a look. “I’m just saying, you could be waiting in the wings. Now let’s find you something to wear.”

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

At 9:55pm, Vivien stepped off the bus two blocks from the theater, feeling severely overdressed in a low-cut sparkly cocktail dress and red kitten heels, her wavy dark brown hair pulled back off her face with a jeweled hair clip. Well, that’s what she got for asking Roxanne’s advice. She should’ve known she’d be sent out into the world looking like a good-time girl. Roxanne also told her, in no uncertain terms, that she was not to wear her glasses. Despite the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see the movie, or probably even recognize Elvis from across the lobby, she followed the advice and tucked them in her purse before heading toward the side door of the theater as instructed.

A red-headed man was acting as some sort of security guard right outside the door. Vivien told him she was invited by Joe and he held the door open for her to go in. She was surprised to find that the side door led directly into the darkened theater. Patton was just starting. She squinted down the aisle looking for any familiar faces but found nothing, so she nervously sat down in an empty seat, wondering if she would even see Elvis at all. Her nerves, plus the fact that everything on the screen looked fuzzy, made it hard to even focus on what was happening in the movie. She decided to sneak out to the lobby and see if the concession stand had anything that might settle her stomach, which had been doing flip-flops since she stepped off the bus. She rose and quickly scurried down the aisle, trying not to block anyone’s view of the movie.

Vivien pulled her wallet out of her purse to pay for her 7-Up and noticed she had brought a copy of Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet, one of her favorite books. She decided maybe she’d just find a spot to sit and read until the movie was over. Maybe she could catch Elvis’ attention on his way out. She wandered the little lobby looking for a spot to sit and ran right into Elvis coming out of the bathroom. His driver from earlier was standing next to the door. Vivien thought maybe she imagined it, but it looked like Elvis’ face lit up when he saw her.

“She is here!” Elvis turned to Joe and glared at him. “I told ya ta bring her ta sit with me when she got here.”

“I told Red to let me know when she got here! I said she had long dark hair and glasses…” Joe’s voice trailed off as he realized Vivien no longer matched his description.

Elvis started laughing as he realized what the problem was. “Why’d ya take your cute glasses off, honey? How’s anyone supposed ta find ya?”

Vivien smiled shyly. “Bad advice from a friend, I guess,” she said, fishing in her purse for her glasses. “Plus I didn’t know you’d be looking for me.”

“Hey, whatcha got there? The Prophet?” Elvis asked excitedly, noticing the book peeking out of her purse.

“Oh, yeah, I never go anywhere without a book,” Vivian admitted, feeling silly. Elvis looked at her, his eyes literally twinkling with delight.

“That’s one of my favorite books! You should come visit me tomorrow, I’d love ta talk to ya about it.” Elvis had now moved so close that their arms were touching. Vivien could hardly breath, so intoxicating was his presence.

“Are-are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, I’d love to talk to you more, but I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s no imposition, honey, I’m always up for some good conversation. Plus the guys’ll be busy tomorrow, right, Joe?” Elvis gave him a pointed look, letting him know they should make themselves busy. “I’ll be wantin’ some company. You don’t want me sittin’ there all lonely, do ya?” Vivien felt goosebumps raise on her skin as Elvis ran the backs of his fingers down her upper arm.

“No, of course not,” she whispered, suddenly unsure of exactly what he was asking. “I’d love to keep you company.” She felt embarassed at how flirty she was being with this married man, but she also couldn’t seem to stop smiling at him. It was all so surreal. Elvis pulled her in a for a tight hug, his arms wrapped all the way around her so that his fingers were brushing along the sides of her breasts. The affection he displayed had her weak in the knees.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow, honey. Come by around three. After breakfast,” he smiled and gave her a peck on the cheek. He started to walk away and then quickly turned back, asking, “What’s your name, dear? In case ya try ta go incognito again.”

“Vivien,” she said with a smile. “What’s yours?” Elvis tilted his head back and let out a loud burst of laughter before walking away. Vivien was floating so high that she almost didn’t wonder why he no longer wanted her to come sit with him. She supposed he’d found a new seat mate when he thought she wasn’t there. Maybe his wife?, she wondered. But then why would he be looking for me?

After the movies were over, Vivien hoped to say goodbye to Elvis again, but he was surrounded by fans, and she felt silly interrupting. She observed that he was affectionate with almost everyone, and worried she had read way too much into their conversation. Does he even really want me to come over? Since he had insisted, she decided it would be rude to not show up, but she tried to get her expectations in check. Plus, he’s a married man, she reminded herself.

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

The next day was Saturday, thank goodness, because Vivien had given no thought to her work schedule when agreeing to these outings. She wondered if Elvis even kept track of the days of the week like normal people had to. She had already decided not to call Roxanne until she got back from Graceland later. She didn’t want anyone else’s thoughts getting in her head; she was confused enough on her own. Unsure of what to wear or how fancy she should look, she decided to just be comfortable in some black capri pants and a red and white striped shirt that hugged her body in the way she liked. She slipped on some sandals, grabbed her book and purse, and headed out the door.

It was much more pleasant outside than it had been the day before, which was a relief. Vivien thought how awkward it would be to show up with sweat dripping down her face. Whoever was at the gate must have been expecting her, because they opened it right away and told her to just knock on the front door. Elvis answered the door himself, wearing crisp white pants and a satin-y red shirt with arm garters. His feet were bare, which made her heart flutter for some reason.

“Vivien! Perfect timing! I just finished gettin’ dressed,” he smiled. “Come on in.” He led her into a beautiful living room with a massively long couch. She noticed a framed photo on the coffee table of him, Priscilla, and their cute little daughter.

“You have a beautiful family, Elvis,” she commented when he noticed her staring at the picture.

“Oh, thanks,” he said, sounding a little dismissive of the compliment. “‘Cilla’s out of town right now. She went to visit her parents with Lisa.” He seemed to be answering a question that had been hanging in the air, unasked. Vivien just nodded and tried to look like this fact didn’t both excite and worry her.

“I brought my book. Is there any particular chapter you wanted to talk about?” she asked, hoping to guide the conversation away from absent spouses.

“All of it!” he said excitedly. She noticed he had a copy sitting on the coffee table as well. “Sit down and make yourself comfortable, honey. You can take your sandals off and just set your feet here.” He indicated the space on the couch next to him. Feeling a little self-conscious, Vivien curled up so that she was leaning slightly away from him but her bare feet were next to him. While they talked, Elvis would occasionaly rest his hand on her ankle or rub his fingers absent-mindedly over the top of her foot. It was very soothing. He didn’t seem to be aiming for anything more, just a soft, gentle affection. When the phone rang, he excused himself and said he’d be right back. He seemed slightly agitated when he returned.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Vivien questioned, noticing his tense demeanor.

“Yeah, honey, ever’thing’s fine,” he drawled. The butterflies in Vivien’s stomach flew into overdrive at the way the word “honey” always dripped off his tongue like the sweet sticky substance itself. Elvis sighed and continued on without any prompting, unable to keep his frustration to himself. “It’s jus’ ‘Cilla, she’s always got-got-gotta be so suspicious of me,” he vented, his irritation clearly growing. “She c-c-can’t believe I’d jus’ be talkin’ ta someone about books and stuff that she’s not even interested in. It’s always gotta be somethin’...nefarious with her,” he emphasized each syllable of “nefarious” and rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned back next to Vivien on the couch.

She swallowed nervously and nodded, trying not to be distracted by the way his chubby penis flopped loosely against his thigh when he leaned back, clearly uncontrained by any underwear. She actually wasn’t sure if it was chubby, but it looked like it would be, and she’d been sneaking enough glances at it to feel like she had an idea of what it would look like if he exposed it to her…Vivien was pulled out of her less-than-wholesome thoughts by the realization that Elvis had followed her eyes down to his lap and seemed to be reading her thoughts as if they were comic strip bubbles showing next to her head. Instead of the bravado he sometimes exuded, Vivien was surprised to see him blush and rest his hand on his lap in a way that blocked her view.

“W-w-where were we?” he stuttered, thumbing through the well-loved pages of The Prophet, pretending not to notice the way Vivien’s racing heartbeat seemed to make the whole couch shudder with desire.

“Don’t be too hard on her,” Vivien blurted out against her better judgment, causing Elvis to look up in surprise, his mouth slightly agape. “I mean,” Vivien began to ramble nervously, “if I were, um, if you and I, I mean,” she fought back at the tears of embarassment that were welling up in her eyes and started again. “If I had you, I wouldn’t probably like you talking to another woman much either,” Vivien cringed at her awkward wording. “I’d want you all to myself all the time, especially to talk about things you’re so passionate about,” she finished with a whisper, looking down nervously at her red-painted fingernails.

Elvis nodded his head slowly, considering her words. “W-w-well, ‘Cilla ain’t like that though. She ain’t interested in these things. Sometimes I feel we have nothin’ in common…” his voice trailed off sadly as he seemed to be contemplating all his life decisions in this moment. Then his soft lips tugged up into a crooked smirk and he looked over at Vivien slyly. “How often do ya think about havin’ me?” The bravado was back.

Sneaking just the tiniest peek back down at his crotch, Vivien racked her brain for a witty answer that wouldn’t sound ridiculous and came up with nothing. “It sure looks nice out,” she quickly changed the subject with a glance out the window.

“It sure does, honey,” Elvis chuckled. “We should take a break from the book and go for a swim.” Vivien flushed at the thought of seeing Elvis’ body in just some swim trunks.

“Oh, um, I don’t have a swimsuit with me,” she explained as he sized her up appraisingly.

“That’s okay, dear, I think I have somethin’ for ya,” he said, jumping up and hurrying upstairs. He came back five minutes later with a beaming grin and a little red and white polka dot bikini. “I bet this’ll fit ya okay.” Something in his cheeky grin told Vivien that he wouldn’t be too upset if it didn’t fit quite right. It looked very tiny.

“Oh, Elvis, I can’t wear your wife’s swimsuit,” Vivien protested, but he had clearly already made his mind up.

“It-it’s fine, honey, she ain’t gonna miss it. She had ten of ‘em up there, brand new, I jus’ cut the tags off.” Elvis grabbed her hand and pulled her along to the room leading out to the pool area. He nodded to the changing area and told her to just meet him out at the pool when she was ready. Vivien wriggled herself into the little suit and nervously eyed her reflection in the full-length mirror. Everything essential was covered, but a soft little roll of skin was squeezing out from the suit bottom, her butt felt too exposed, and her breasts were spilling out slightly from the molded cups on top. She bit down on her lip, trying to make a quick decision. If she got right in the water, the ill-fitting suit wouldn’t be too noticeable. She decided it would be much more embarassing to have to get dressed again and go tell him that the suit was too small.

Elvis let out a low whistle from his lawn chair as soon as she stepped outside. So much for sneaking right into the water, Vivien thought as Elvis jumped up and circled around her. Her heart started racing at the sight of him in little red swim shorts and a striped shirt. She sinfully wondered if there was any chance of something flopping out the bottom of the shorts.

“Damn, baby, I like the way you fill that suit out,” Elvis murmured as his eyes stayed a second too long on her overflowing bikini top.

“It’s a little too small,” Vivien couldn’t stop herself from pointing out.

“Nah, honey, it looks perfect.” That crooked smile sent the butterflies on another flight. “Now the rule is, to enter the pool, ya have ta go off the diving board,” Elvis announced with a mischievous smile.

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Vivien responded, thinking of all the body parts that could come flying out of her suit upon impact with the water.

“C’mon, Vivien,” he teased, giving her bare sides a little tickle with his long warm fingers. Her skin felt on fire from his touch. “Don’t be a party pooper. I’ll even go first!” He peeled off his t-shirt, causing a strange tingle to shoot through Vivien’s core, tossed it aside, and sprang into a messy dive, his long legs flailing a bit in the air. He surfaced, spitting water in the air like a fountain and beckoning her to come in. Vivien set her glasses on a little table by the chair, walked gingerly until her toes were at the edge of the diving board, took a deep breath, and plunged in, hoping for the best.

As she came up for air and pushed her dripping wet hair out of her face, she caught the flustered look on Elvis’ face that made her realize that her fear had come true. She glanced down to where his eyes were fixated on her chest, his lips hanging open slightly as his tongue subconciously slipped out and licked them. Vivien let out a little yelp when she saw that one of her nipples had escaped out of the bikini top and she quickly moved to tuck it back where it belonged. She covered her face in embarassment as Elvis swam closer to her. He pulled her hands down from her face and drew her into a gentle hug.

“Hey now, honey, ‘s okay. I wasn’t even lookin’...too much,” he said, trying to stifle a laugh as Vivien swatted at him.

“It’s not funny, Elvis, I’m embarassed,” she whispered, unable to look him in the eye.

“Aw, honey, you ain’t never gotta be embarassed around me. And it’s jus’ us here, okay? Good thing all the guys had errands to run today, ‘cuz I want ya ta save that show only for me, okay?” Vivien finally smiled a little at that and nodded. “Would it make ya feel any better ta see my nipples?” Elvis joked, pushing his chest out in an exaggerated fashion. Vivien laughed and blushed as she eyed his torso, willing her eyes not to keep going down further, but that little trail of hair leading down past his belly button was just so enticing. “Hey, my nipples are up here,” Elvis teased, catching her under the chin with his tanned fingers. Vivien’s head was swimming at how flirtatious things had gotten since she’d admitted that she had thought of… “having him.” He’s a married man…hold it together, Vivien, she whispered inside her head. As if sensing her nervousness, Elvis quickly changed the subject, pulling her over to lean against the wall of the pool. “I’ve been talkin’ your ear off all day about my problems. Tell me somethin’ about you, honey.”

“Um, well, I’m 21, I work as a secretary at a law firm, I was named after Vivien Leigh,” she started out tentatively, wondering how much Elvis was really interested in anything about her life.

“Really? Vivien Leigh?” he exclaimed, his rapt attention giving her the confidence to continue.

“Yeah, my mom really loved Gone With the Wind,” she said with a laugh. As she talked about her family, Vivien took note of how Elvis’ eyes and nose crinkled up so cutely when he laughed, how the drying hair of his sideburns curled up and tucked into his ears, how the hint of gray at his temples sparkled in the sunlight. As he reached over and brushed a stray hair out of her face, a little shiver ran through her body.

“Is the wa-wa too cold, honey?” he asked, looking concerned. “Lemme help ya onto the ledge here so you can warm up in the sun.” He lifted Vivien onto the ledge and leaned in between her legs as he sat her down. “That better?” She nodded and her breath caught in her throat as she stared down into his sparkly blue eyes. “Vivien, you are beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in and pressed his pillowly lips to hers, slipping his tongue gently into her mouth. As he moved his lips down to the soft skin of her breast that was spilling out of the bikini top, her brain was screaming at her to stop him, but she couldn’t stop her body from responding to his every touch. He pulled the cup down a little bit, popping her nipple back out into the warm sunshine. Vivien let out an involuntary little gasp as he touched his tongue to her nipple and then sucked it into his mouth. As he rubbed his thumb over the saliva he left on it, he whispered, “See you ain’t gotta feel bad around me at all, honey. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He tucked it back into her top before leaning his head down and kissing her thigh. “Mmm, honey, you are drivin’ me crazy in this little suit. I see your cute little beaver wants ta come out and visit me,” he murmured as his fingers traced up Vivien’s inner thighs and rubbed gently at the dark wiry hairs escaping from the elastic of the bikini bottoms. Elvis hooked his long index finger into the elastic and tugged it to the side. He let out a groan as he slipped his fingers through the wetness. “You’re glistenin’ for me, Vivien,” he said with a smile.

“Elvis, I, um, ohhhh,” Vivien let out a load moan as Elvis slipped a finger inside of her. He tried to pump it, but her whole body seemed to tense up and his finger was meeting too much resistance. “Elvis, I’m sorry, um, I’m,” she started to explain her embarassing lack of experience, but Elvis shushed her gently. He straightened her suit out and pulled her back into the water, into his arms.

“Shh, ‘s okay, honey. You’re a good girl ain’t cha? I can feel it,” he whispered as he rubbed her back soothingly. “We ain’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“It’s, it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just, um, I care about you Elvis. I don’t want to be something nefarious for you. I want to be something good.” Elvis looked a little shocked and - delighted maybe? - that someone would care enough about him to reject him, in a way. There was a warm glow on his face as he looked at Vivien tenderly.

“Can we jus’ be friends for now then? I really love talkin to ya, honey,” he said softly. “And, like I said, we ain’t gotta do anything you ain’t ready for. I jus’ want your company.”

Vivien nodded and looked up into his eyes. “I’d love to be friends. I think you’re a really special person,” she added, causing Elvis to blush.

After they were dressed and saying their goodbyes, Elvis promised to give her a call to come back and talk about the book some more. He leaned down and pressed a soft sweet kiss to her lips. “Not nefarious, just friendly,” he whispered as he pulled away with that lopsided smile. Vivien smiled and nodded, even as the gentle poke from something firm and definitely chubby below his belt told her that wasn’t quite true. And next time, she wasn’t sure she’d have the wherewithal to stop him from exploring her in any way he wanted. She walked away from the mansion feeling giddy, confused, thrilled, and terrified.

Tag List (please let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love

[mahg-stuff]

I love the idea of your ‘his doll’ elvis mood board becoming a writing, I love the vibes & aesthetic it has!! Would u consider writing a story abt it?

I’m so glad you love it!! I’m finally going to try getting active on here. Also, I have made a rough draft of it but my writing skills aren’t so good I would say I need a little more practice, so I’m not sure if I’m ready to post any of my writing not until I feel somewhat confident with it at least. Thanks for the suggestion, although I do encourage writers on here to take the inspiration of my mood board and create a story of their own with it. I wouldn’t mind. :))

(here’s the mood board)

edit : I will be publishing a one-shot w/ the theme of this mood board!

(prompt & more info on here)

[pxnsneverland]

Something Immortal | Biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 1)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

plot summary: In the gritty underbelly of a city ruled by werewolf biker gangs, Austin Butler reigned supreme as the ruthless leader of his pack. A man of unwavering ferocity, he lied, killed, and stole without remorse, living by a code of violence that defined his kind. Yet, even Austin harbored a secret weakness – his childhood friend Bonnie Barlow, the one woman he had loved in silence for years. Bonnie's father had once been part of Austin's gang, but after his death, she fled the treacherous world of the werewolves, unable to stomach the endless cycle of crime and brutality. For five years, she remained a fugitive from her own nature, until a fateful night when her life took an irreversible turn. Freshly released from a two-year prison stint, Austin returned to his pack, reveling in the debauchery of their den. But his revelry was cut short by a frantic call from Bonnie, pleading for his aid. Rushing to her side, he uncovered a grim truth – in a desperate act of self-defense against her abusive boyfriend, Bonnie had taken a life, awakening the dormant werewolf within her. As the next full moon loomed, she would undergo her first agonizing transformation, a fate she had always dreaded. Defying the pack's ruthless code, Austin sheltered Bonnie, guiding her through the excruciating metamorphosis that tore through her body each lunar cycle. In the depths of her torment, their bond rekindled, blossoming into a love they had long suppressed. Nights of shared laughter and reminiscence gave way to stolen moments of tenderness, their connection deepening with every passing moon. Yet, their newfound bliss was a fragile thing, forever threatened by the harsh realities that governed their world. For Bonnie was branded a deserter, her very existence a betrayal in the eyes of the pack. If Austin's treachery was uncovered, retribution would be swift and merciless.

pairings: biker!austin butler x oc

word count: 2746

warnings/notes: violence, mentions of murder, gang activity

Chapter 1: The Alpha's Return

As Austin pushed open the heavy oak door, the overwhelming cacophony of sound hit him like a physical force. The deep bass of the music thrummed through his chest and reverberated in his ears. The mixture of sweat, alcohol, and cigarette smoke assaulted his senses as he made his way into the dimly lit bar. Flickering lights hung haphazardly above the scattered tables and stools, casting shadows that seemed to dance with the rhythm of the music. In one corner of the bar, a group of men gathered around a pool table, their voices loud and boisterous as they cheered on their game. In another corner, a couple was engaged in a heated argument, their voices rising above the din of the bar.

Jerry Thompson, known as 'The Butcher' for his towering stature and imposing presence, immediately spotted Austin from his perch at the bar. Jerry's muscular arms were adorned with intricate tattoos that seemed to come alive with each movement as he stood up to greet Austin. His leather jacket emitted a low creaking sound as he moved, adding to his intimidating aura. With sharp eyes constantly scanning the room, he appeared to be assessing every person and potential threat.

"Austin!" Jerry bellowed with a wide grin, revealing his crooked teeth. Austin returned the gesture with equal enthusiasm and they met in a brief but firm hug, both happy to see each other after so long apart.

"Ace of Spades!" Jerry exclaimed, slapping Austin's back with a hearty laugh. The impact sent vibrations through Austin's body and he couldn't help but grin at his friend's exuberance. His booming voice echoed throughout the dimly-lit bar, drawing the attention of the other patrons. Heads turned, conversations paused, and eyes widened as they caught sight of the alpha in their midst.

"Still got your sense of humor, I see," Austin replied with a smirk. Despite the weariness in his voice, his piercing blue eyes sparkled with a fierce determination that radiated authority. He let his gaze wander around the room, taking in the familiar faces of his pack members and noting the new ones who had joined in his absence. The gang had clearly grown in numbers'.

"The pack's missed you," Jerry said, his deep voice barely audible over the pounding bass of the music. He motioned towards a back booth where a few burly men sat hunched over their drinks, their eyes gleaming under the dim lights. Jerry's eyes darted around the dimly lit room, his body tense with unease. He leaned in closer to Austin, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Things haven't been easy since you've been gone; a few of the newer guys, they don't respect the code... or you."

Austin straightened up, his gaze sweeping over the assembled group. The tension in his posture was palpable as he issued a silent challenge. "Name them," he demanded, his voice laced with authority and steel.

Jerry seemed to hesitate for a moment, his gaze trailing away from Austin’s intense stare. He let out a deep sigh, the weight of the situation evident on his weathered face. Finally, with a heavy hand he pointed towards the corner of the bar where two young bikers were shooting pool. Their boisterous laughter filled the room, oblivious to the fact that they were being talked about.

“Those two. Dal and Jimmy.” Jerry’s voice was rough and gruff, barely audible above the rowdy crowd. “Think they can run things their way. They’ve been challenging your rules ever since you left.”

Austin’s piercing gaze followed Jerry’s finger and then slowly moved to focus on the two men in question. They seemed hardly more than boys really, their matching leather jackets and cocky attitudes giving off the impression of overgrown pups trying to mark their territory. The sight of them sparked something in his chest - a cold, calculated anger that had him clenching his fists at his sides. “I see.” His words were sharp and clipped, void of any emotion except for a simmering rage that only those who knew him well could detect. With a determined stride, he pushed past Jerry and made a beeline towards Dal and Jimmy who were still engrossed in their game of pool. The tension in the room felt palpable as all eyes turned to watch Austin approach the group of challengers. Austin's body visibly trembles with a mix of rage and anticipation as he approaches the oblivious duo. His broad shoulders square up, ready for a fight, while his icy gaze pierces through them like a sharp blade. The laughter dies down around them as they finally notice the Alpha's approach.

Dal, a lanky man with a scar running down the side of his face, meets Austin's stare with a smug smirk that exudes defiance. Jimmy, shorter and stockier with a wild mop of red hair, takes an instinctive step back in fear and quickly averts his gaze under Austin's intense stare.

With a voice full of authority and malice, Austin addresses them. "You got a problem with my rules?”

Dal's smirk twists into a snarl as he leans back against the pool table, crossing his arms over his chest in challenge. "Our problem ain't with your damn rules, Butler," he spits out Austin's title with contempt. "Our problem is with you.”

The pool stick falls from Dal's grip with a loud clatter as he stands, his eyes blazing with anger. "You've been locked up for two years and now you think you can just waltz back in here and reclaim your throne as alpha?" He takes a threatening step forward, his voice dripping with disdain. "We've managed just fine without you, Butler. Who's to say you're still the strongest?"

"Is that a challenge, Dal?" Austin's voice pierced through the dim bar like a shard of ice, freezing the air around them. His crystal blue eyes glinted with a dangerous intensity as they locked onto Dal, who could feel his heart rate quicken under the alpha’s unwavering stare. The muscles in Austin's arms bulged as he stood tall, crossing them over his broad chest in a show of dominance

Dal shifted uneasily, almost feeling physically pinned under the weight of Austin's intense glare. The smirk on his face vanished, replaced by a fierce determination that hardened his features. Meeting Austin's gaze head-on, he squared his shoulders and spoke with a steely resolve, “Yeah, Butler. It is."

Without warning, Austin lunged at Dal with such ferocious speed that he was nothing but a blur. The crowd's hushed gasps were drowned out by the sickening thud of Austin's fist connecting with Dal's face. A fresh cut on his lip oozed blood as he lay sprawled on the ground, his body trembling with pain and shock.The air in the room seemed to thicken with tension as Dal slowly rose to his feet, wiping the blood away with a shaking hand. His gaze locked onto Austin's, filled with a fiery defiance. Without hesitation, he launched himself at Austin, their bodies colliding in a flurry of fists and grunts. But Austin was a force to be reckoned with, easily overpowering Dal with his brute strength and merciless blows. Each punch landed like a sledgehammer, causing bones to crack and skin to split. The smell of iron permeated the air as blood spilled, staining the floor beneath them. Dal was no match for Austin's relentless assault. A thunderous left hook knocked him off balance, leaving him dazed and stumbling. Before he could regain his bearings, Austin charged at him like a raging animal, slamming him back against the pool table.

Pain exploded through Dal's body as he hit the hard surface, gasping for air as if his lungs had been crushed. He struggled to focus through blurred vision, gazing up at Austin who loomed over him like a giant. With one final burst of strength, Dal tried to push himself up off the table, only to receive a brutal kick to the gut that sent him crashing back down. As he lay there, helpless and defeated, all he could taste was blood and defeat in his mouth.

Austin stood over him, chest heaving and fists clenched. His ice-blue eyes were alight with a victorious glint as he looked down at his conquest. The crowd parted in silence, every pair of eyes glued to the spectacle. Austin’s gaze shifted from Dal to the onlookers, his expression stern and unwavering. His voice rang out clear and commanding through the silence, “Let this be a lesson to all of you - I am your alpha, your leader...and I will not tolerate disloyalty or disrespect in my pack.”

He cast a final glance at Dal, then turned towards Jerry who had been watching the scene unfold from the sidelines. The Butcher's face bore a grimace of satisfaction; he approved of what Austin had done. Austin slowly walked back to him, the crowd parting to make way for their leader.

"Painful but necessary," Jerry muttered as he draped an arm around Austin's shoulder, "hopefully this little display of power will keep them in line."

Austin simply nodded his agreement, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. However, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He knew that he had needed to assert his authority but the violent encounter left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hoped that no other member would dare to challenge him; he didn't want to shed any more blood of his own pack. But he would stand his ground and uphold order, no matter the cost.

"Well, that was a helluva welcome back party," Jerry chuckled and slapped Austin on the back. The two walked to the exit, their imposing figures outlined by the dimly lit bar behind them. Austin didn’t respond; his thoughts were elsewhere – on Bonnie Barlow. How would she react to tonight's events? Would she be afraid of him...or for him? As Austin sat in his cell, thoughts of Bonnie consumed his mind. She had been his only source of comfort during his time in jail, and now that he was out, she still lingered in his thoughts. It had been five long years since he last saw her, and he couldn't help but wonder how she had been and what she was up to now. Memories of her petite figure and expressive eyes flooded his mind, stirring a mix of emotions within him. Remorse for the mistakes he made and an intense yearning to see her again. His heart clenched at the reality of his situation. He wasn't just a man – he was an alpha, a werewolf. And Bonnie? She was the quiet beauty who had found her way into his heart, and then fled from the violent world he inhabited. Even as he craved to have her back in his life, Austin couldn’t help but acknowledge the bitter truth. The world he ruled with an iron fist was no place for someone as delicate and empathetic as Bonnie.

With a troubling thought gnawing at his mind, Austin abruptly shrugged off Jerry's arm and strode out into the cool, crisp night air. His heavy boots crunched with each step on the gravel path as he made his way to his motorcycle. The machine stood there like a ferocious animal lying in wait, its metallic body glinting in the moonlight.

"Hey, where you off to?" Jerry called after him, but Austin did not even spare a glance as he pulled on his leather gloves and climbed onto his ride. His mind was too cluttered with thoughts of Bonnie, bittersweet memories that brought both solace and a haunting pain.

The engine roared to life beneath him, a low growl that reverberated through the peaceful night. With one last look at the bar where his pack was still celebrating their leader's victorious return, he revved the engine and tore off into the darkness. The wind whipped against his face as he raced down the deserted roads, slicing through the quiet stillness of the night. He welcomed the chilling gusts, hoping they would blow away the weight of remorse weighing on him. But no amount of speed or distance could erase Bonnie's image from his mind or ease the ache in his heart. His thoughts kept returning to that fateful day five years ago when Bonnie had left.

She had vanished into the ether, leaving behind a void in Austin's life that he couldn't fill. No call, no text, no warning. One day, they were holding each other at her father's funeral - her tears staining his shoulder and his arms wrapped tightly around her. The next day, she was gone, taking all traces of herself with her. Austin searched high and low, calling every number he had for her and knocking on every door he could think of. But she had disappeared without a trace, leaving him feeling lost and alone. Weeks turned into months, which turned into years. The uncertainty of not knowing where Bonnie had gone or even if she was still alive weighed heavily on Austin's mind and heart. He would wake up from nightmares, drenched in sweat and trembling, his thoughts consumed by visions of Bonnie being hurt or in danger. As much as he wanted to protect her like he did when they were younger, he couldn't do anything if he didn't even know where she was.

The soft purr of his motorbike echoed through the stillness, offering him a strange sense of tranquility as he veered down onto the dirt path that led home. Austin’s cabin, nestled in the secluded wilderness away from town, was as rugged and unyielding as he was. A shabby structure with weathered timber walls and a roof so worn it seemed to blend into the overcast night sky. Sliding off his bike, Austin crossed the threshold, stepping into the austere living space. Minimalistic and practical just like him. A stone fireplace dominated one wall, its hearth filled with charred logs from a fire long gone. The rest of the furniture was plain and functional - a worn-out couch, a small dining table, and his bed tucked into an alcove.

He shrugged off his leather jacket and made his way to the worn-out armchair by the fireplace, sinking into its familiar comfort. Pouring himself a glass of whiskey from a dusty bottle, he stared at the golden liquid swirling within. Each drop mirrored years of torment and solitude that had gradually gnawed away at his soul. Drinking was not his means to drown the pain; instead, it was more of a ritual – an acknowledgement of his broken spirit and an attempt to numb the hurt festering within. The air around him crackled as he struck a match and brought it close to the dry logs in the hearth. The fire leaped up instantly, hungry flames lapping at the wood while releasing whispers of smoke into the air. Austin watched the dance of the fire, his mind lost in the glowing depths as he sipped from his glass. The warmth of the Scotch spread through him, a perfect foil to the cold emptiness he had grown accustomed to. The silence of his cabin was only broken by the sporadic crackle of the flames and the quiet hum of woodland creatures outside. This solitude was his sanctuary and yet it was also his prison cell.

The tranquil silence was broken in an instant by a shrill ring that made Austin jump. He quickly realized it was his cell phone, a device he hadn't heard from in what seemed like ages. His fingers fumbled for the familiar weight in his pocket, almost forgetting it had been there this whole time. The screen displayed ‘Unknown’ as the call persisted, daring him to answer and reveal the identity of the caller. Who could be reaching out to him, someone he had not seen at the bar? With a deep breath, Austin pressed accept and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?" His voice came out rough and hesitant.

"Austin," said a soft voice on the other end.

Instantly recognizing the voice that had haunted his thoughts for years, Austin's heart began to race in his chest. The drink in his hand suddenly felt like a lead weight, and he carefully set it down on the small wooden table beside him. His fingers trembled slightly as he tightened his grip on the phone, as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality.

"Bonnie..."

Stay tuned for part 2!! Click HERE to view!

[thatbanditqueen]

Basic Training

I Don't Date Soldiers

A new fic, possibly a new WIP, about Elvis' life at Fort Hood. Let me know what you think.

Summary: Bess is a smart, young secretary working for the Commander of Army Intelligence training at Fort Hood, dreaming of a life beyond the military one she has always known. That's why she doesn't date soldiers, they only break your heart, and she is looking ahead to something better. One Friday night in March, she stumbles in to the new draftee who's turned the base upside down, and in a moment of weakness, decides to try and help him sleep. Just this once.

Warnings: None, fluffy and angst combined, but innocent. For now. There are a lot of typos.

Word Count: 4.8 K

Some notes: Probably good to know the acronyms, every Army base has a chain of command, and at the top sit the Commanding Officer (CO), the Executive Officer (XO), and a bunch of other officers, of different rank denoted by their ascending O rank, from 1 to 10. WAC - Women's Army Corps, established in WWII, their was a sizeable WAC presence at Fort Hood in 1958. Oh, and Killeen is the closest city to Fort Hood and Austin, TX is about an hour away. Also I really wanted this to take place on a Friday night, but also have had Elvis at the base for two nights, so I gave myself creative license to make March 30, 1958 a Friday. Just don't look it up and we'll be fine.

This fic was inspired by the writing prompt:

Many thanks to my beautiful sister-wives-in-arms whose advice support and love make being an Elvis girl possible and fun, @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love @ellie-24 @powerofelvis @missmaywemeetagain and @whositmcwhatsit, from whom I have stolen her trademarked description of Elvis' awkward manner of kissing half on the cheek half on the lips like a goofy weirdo who was never taught how to kiss right so he decided to make up his own style. And thanks for reading and connecting with me here, the Elvis fandom is the best and I love our community!

Friday, March 30, 1958

9 p.m. at Sal's Cafe

Bess pushed her veal marsala from one side of her plate to the other, feeling the vibrations of her fork scrape across the bottom of the plate. The place checked off all the requisite Italian restaurant requirements: checkered table cloth, candle in an old wine bottle, violin player sawing away at a classical reinterpretation of “That’s Amore.” But the brown sauce, and the meat it was congealing around, was inedible. It was the sort of food that begged the question “why not stay in and cook at home?”

“I said, don’t you think, Bess honey? You follow that stuff, dontcha?”

Bess looked up at her friend Dori’s face, realizing she had drifted off daydreaming of a future far away from Killeen, away from her job at Fort Hood, away from the Army, away from officers, like the ones sitting across from them. Away from soldiers in general.

“What, Khrushchev? Well, I think we all knew he wasn’t going to take the threat laying down.”

Dori hit Bess' shoulder lightly, smiling at their dates, two officers from Army Intelligence.

“No, y’all will havta excuse my friend here, she still thinks she’s studying political science in Austin. You’d think a year of civilian life would make her normal again, huh?”

Dori flipped her blonde hair and drawled on.

“No, silly goose, no one here is interested in that Russian stuff, we’re talking about Mike Todd. What do you think poor Elizabeth Taylor is going to do now that her husband's dead?”

Bess tried very hard not to roll her eyes. Dori was right, she read the movie gossip magazines, but her friend’s distraught, serious expression had made her think they were discussing something with a little more gravitas. The recent atomic weapons testing, or Russian political shifts, the stuff at the top of her New York Times front page everyday. But why would any one in the Army want to talk about that?

Bess smiled at her date and tried to focus on the conversation at hand. Later in the bathroom, Dori chided her while applying a fresh coat of lipstick onto Bess’ mouth.

“I wish you would try to be polite.”

“Dori, you know I am breaking my rule here with you. I don’t date soldiers. I have two goals I'm focusing on: get into law school and shake off these twenty pounds. ”

Bess rubbed her hands over her waist.

“Rules were made to be broken, Bessie Pie, and you look great, men like a girl with a jiggle, I think you look like a brunette Jayne Mansfield.”

“Hardly. You’re Mansfield and Monroe rolled into one.”

“Don't sell yourself short. I know you were fixin' to marry that boy last year, and now all you talk about is law school this, politics that. Don’t you wanna get married? We're not getting any younger.”

“I’m twenty three. Same as you.”

“Eggg zactly. Sure, it seems young now, but you're gonna blink and be thirty and single, with nothing but your degrees to keep you company. You already have a good job now. I just know you’d set this law school thing aside if you met the right guy.”

“Of course I wanna get married, someday. But not now. You’re the one in a hurry to quit your job and settle down, not me.”

“I don’t have a job.”

“See, you’re half way there, Doreen. Me, I’m not giving up my goals for Captain Smarmy out there. How did you even meet these ones?”

Dori steadied her self on Bess’ shoulder.

“Stop moving, or this lipstick won’t be straight. I met them outside the PX, I thought they were cute. Arnie knew who you were, he was the one who suggested we all go out. He really likes you, I can tell - “

“Yeah, he was just in my pop's office lobbying for an assignment, he doesn’t like me. He is using me.  There’s a difference, I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

“So what if he was? Maybe he saw you there and couldn’t get you out of his mind. He’s good looking, smart, he’s already an O3 —”

Bess stopped her friend’s hand, and fixed her hair in the mirror, pushing up her bust and sighing at the rounder curves that had been widening at her waist since she’d graduated from college and settled into a very sedentary, very single, and currently very celibate life living back at home and working for her father. She turned to look at Dori who was waiting to blot Bess' lips with a tissue like the sweet girl she always had been. For Dori, a fresh coat of perfectly applied lipstick fixed all of life’s problems.

“Look, Captain whatever out there is only here for six months or so for training, then he's off to Heidelberg. That’s why I don’t date soldiers anymore. I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’m waiting for you to catch up.”

Bess gave her dark curls one last fluff.

“How’d you get these suckers to come out on a double date anyway? They aren’t scared of your father?”

Dori avoided eye contact as she smoothed her blonde bouffant and pursed her lips, then looked at Bess in the mirror.

“They don’t know.”

“How do they not know your father is the CO?”

Dori shrugged, then pinched Bess as they walked out of the ladies’ room.

“Don’t tell, ok? Let’s just have fun. What if you fall madly in Arnie? And he asked you to marry him and go to Germany with him?”

Bess snorted as they walked out to the men waiting for them in the restaurant lobby and Dori's eyes took on a knowing look.

“Hmm, so that’s big fat ol ‘no’ to dancing tonight, I’m guessin’?”

Bess nodded.

“Please at least tell me you aren’t going home to work on that boring research project?”

Bess smiled mischievously. “Professor Blotke agreed to help me, it’s going to be my submission sample for Georgetown. Papa took Mama to D.C. with him for his meetings, so I have the house practically to myself. It's just Kay and me, and she’s probably already asleep. I just have to grab a new typewriter back on post, I busted mine.”

Dori shook her disapproving of Bess’ plans for the night, then turned to greet their escorts with her usual vivacious pleasantries. Bess smiled at Dori's ability to interact with the men so casually and intimately, sliding her hands through both of officer's arms as they walked to the car. She considered how different she was from her girlfriend, despite the fact that they were both twenty three year old daughters of career Army officers. Every relationship she'd been in seemed to occur in spite of her inability to feel at ease or flirt with boys.

The conversation turned to recent events at Fort Hood as they walked.

“So,” Dori exhaled, squeezing herself against her date. “Has anyone seen Elvis yet?”

Bess pounded her foot a little harder into the concrete, hearing that name now provoked instant irritation.

“Ughh, no. It’s only been what, three days, and honestly I wish he’d been sent somewhere else for training. All I do is answer calls about him. It is driving me up the wall and I can’t get anything done. He’s turned the whole base upside down. Must have been a hundred cars parked outside the main gate, all scattered around the fields. It’s a security issue. I just —"

“Well, that’s not his fault Bess, and I think it's great. I wanna to meet him, don’t y’all?” Dori looked at the officers on her arms.

Arnie smiled a big dumb smile as he looked at Dori’s bouncing breasts and agreed. “I think it’s good for the Army, boy, I just - I just wish we could get the other enlisted to lay off him.”

“What do you mean?”

Bess felt the pit of her stomach tense as she thought of the thousands of green little boys running around base on edge with no external distractions for entertainment.

“Yeah, the boys’ have been giving him a hard time, shouting out when he runs during PT, or at the chow hall. There’s some concern he hasn’t been coming to eat all his meals cuz a the way they’ve been taunting him.”

Bess sighed, her irritation dissipating momentarily into sympathy as she considered how hungry and lonely Elvis Presley must be. Then she remembered that she was hungry, hungry because all the good restaurants had been filled up tonight by people trying to catch a glimpse of him. Elvis was the reason the only benefit from breaking her vow against dating a soldier, the free meal, had been a bust. She wondered if it was going to be this crazy around town for the next six months while he was here.

“I feel sorry for the poor kid, I do. But I still wish he was some other base’s problem.”

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

Back on post, Arnie asked Bess for the fourth time if she wouldn’t like him to come help her carry the typewriter to her car. Then they could meet the others at the night club.

Beth pursed her lips with a demure smile.  “I think I can handle a typewriter, Captain, I use them all day.”

Dori chimed in with a reminder that it was Friday night and they were only young once, but Bess put them off, grinning as she heard Dori exclaim that both men would just have to dance with her all night.

“Two gorgeous officers all to myself,  what eva shall I do?”

Free at last, Bess drove her car to the supply building, and snuck in the back door carrying the type writer that she had been using at home, the big sticker along the bottom reading “Property of U.S. Army” evident as she held the machine under her arm to unlock the door. Bess slipped off her heels at the door so that they didn’t click down the dark hallways, and she easily scurried in to slip the broken machine into the repair center and help herself to a new model, grabbing a few spools of typewriter ribbon and a package of paper on the way out. Balancing everything as she locked up to leave,  Bess smiled at the cool air on her sweaty arm pits and laughed to herself for pulling this stealth operation in a tight green cocktail dress and pumps.

“A better use of this outfit anyway, I’d say.” She muttered to herself, sheathing her right foot back into her white heel with a sense of pride that she’d managed to get in, get the new machine, and would probably be home before 11 p.m. Bess had propped her self up against the building to slip her left foot into the other shoe when she heard a voice behind her call out.

“Uh, hey, need any help there?”

Startled, she almost toppled over, catching herself at the last moment by dropping everything in her hands.

“OWW fuck fuck fuck a duck!

She screamed in pain as the typewriter clanged down on her bare left foot and she almost knocked heads with the tall, gangly soldier who squatted down on front of her at the same time to try and help her retrieve her supplies.

"Oh man, I sure am sorry, listen -"

“At ease, uh Private,” she glanced briefly at the rank on his uniform while straightening up, holding her foot in pain and taking in the view below her. The paper knob at the top of the new machine had broken off completely.

“Fuck, this is what I get, I suppose,” she laughed, looking up find herself across from the shy, inquisitive face of Elvis Presley.

“Oh fuck a duuuuuck.”

Bess forgot about the typewriter, the paper spilled everywhere, the throbbing pain in the left foot she was now holding up and cradling. She didn’t even notice how she was exposing her thighs until she rubbed her foot again and dropped it with a thud, realizing she was about to flash Elvis Presley. He seemed to realize it too, and smirked as he turned his face to look away as some sort of attempt to give her privacy while she smoothed her dress down. Bess did this while clumsily trying to balance between one heeled foot and one bare foot.

Elvis found it very hard to stifle his chuckles as he watched her stiffen, and held out his hand to put her at ease.

“Uh, hey there ma’am, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley.”

Bess shifted and smiled awkwardly, wiping her dirty, sweaty hands on her silk dress and extending her right hand out to shake his. The the same right hand, that had, moments ago, been rubbing her smelly, left foot. Honestly, it seemed like the most polite option, since she decided to act as if the last five minutes hadn’t happened. As if  sneaking out of the supply building past 10 p.m. on a Friday night with her arms full of government office supplies was perfectly normal.

“Bess Schwartz, I’m, uh, I work in the Front Office here. I’m, I’m, I'm the secretary for the Army Intelligence Commander.”

She gasped when Elvis took her hand, the hand cover in her foot sweat, and squeezed it warmly, bringing it to his lips for a chaste kiss.

“Nice ta, uh, meetcha. Imma sorry, uh, for startlin’ ya Miss Schwartz, ma’am.”

Bess shivered in the darkness as she heard herself whisper for him to call her Bess almost incoherently while she watched Elvis drop down in front of her and fit her other white pump over her left foot. She tried to remember how to breath. It was hard.  Hard because she was struggling to subdue  her visceral reaction to Elvis' thumb as it slowly smoothed over the top of her foot, which made it harder still to recover from the embarrassment of getting caught stealing a typewriter. By the most famous person in the world. Bess shut her eyes in disbelief that this was actually happening, and was disappointed when she lifted her eyelids to find that it actually was happening and Elvis was still there. He met her eyes, his finger delicately stroking her ankle.

“There, now, honey, you think you can walk?”

She pulled her leg back and nodded as she scanned the parking lot, the road along and other buildings behind it.

“Mhmm. Thank you, Private. Say, what are you doing stalking around the base right now? Lights out is at 9.”

Elvis bit his lip, looking at the ground as he stood.

“Can’t sleep.”

Bess arched her eyebrow as she started to bend, but Elvis put his hand up to stop her and stooped to gather the paper. He crushed it under his arm as he grabbed the typewriter and ink ribbons, talking slowly and deliberately.

“Well, my first night some jokers went an put shaving cream in my shoes, I ‘spose it gave em a good laugh to watch me run around like a damn fool getting ready for inspection. An well, I ain’t been able to sleep since, can’t bare to, uh, to uh - ”

His voice trailed off, but Bess knew what he meant. He was afraid of looking like poor sport or tattle tale if he complained, and a coward if he just took it. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the bags under his eyes, calculating he must be going on 40 hours without much sleep. Or much food either, if her date was to be believed. Men. Boys, more like. Little boys amusing them selves by torturing this poor kid. This, tall, lanky, kid, who hovered above her and whose large hands made her typewriter ribbon look like a checker piece.

“Yeah, uh, they’re just scared they won’t be able to get any tail now that your here.” She smiled as best she could under the pressure of trying to talk with Elvis smoldering, lonely boy eyes piercing through her.

Bess looked at a passing car just so she could collect herself, then back at Elvis, thinking of the crowds of women lining the gates.

“The men should be thanking you, we haven’t seen this many pretty girls hanging around the base, since, well, since ever. Probably gonna be easy picking, especially for the soldiers who can leave post. Those poor girls hanging 'round outside the gates don’t know you aren’t allowed to go near ‘em for the next three or so weeks.”

“Mhmm, seems like, uh, uh, ya don’t havta go off post to meet pretty girls.”

Elvis bit his lip again, enjoying how Bess became flustered and embarrassed, smoothing the sides of her dress. She reminded herself that she hated him, as she felt the butterflies swarm through her belly and make themselves at home, flitting willy nilly up her spine. Bess also became keenly aware of how hungry she was from skipping dinner. She didn’t have time for his teasing and looked Elvis squarely in the eyes as she spoke.

“I recommend staying away from them, too. Especially the WACs. You’re definitely not supposed to fraternize with other soldiers.”

Elvis looked off at the trees that lined the road to the right. “How bought civilians? Is, um, ah, frater-a-nizin', uh, allowed?”

Bess turned, ignoring the question, though she was unable to ignore the warm, playful flirtation in Elvis’ voice as it washed over her and her chest heaved up and down at a quicker pace. Once again she told herself that she did, indeed, know how to breath. Her annoyance at his line melted away when she returned to his eyes and saw the exhaustion underneath his bravado, instantly regretting what she was about to do before she even did it. Somehow she couldn’t help herself, it was as if she was having an out-of-body experience, watching herself fumble through a simple sentence.

“Listen, I, um, I just had the worst date of my life, at the worst restaurant. Couldn’t eat a bite. You help me get another type writer, and I’ll, I’ll fix us something to eat. Then you can sleep on my couch for a few hours.”

Watching  his eyes light up, Bess felt the need to add. “But no funny business. I’m just helping out a new recruit, doesn’t mean anything.”

For the second time that night, Bess oversaw sneaking a broken typewriter into the repair shop and taking a new one, hobbling as she led Elvis to her car and directed him to put the stuff in her truck.

“Ya live on post?”

Bess patted the passenger seat of her blue Ford.

“Nope.”

“You know I ain’t supposed to leave?”

“Yup.”

“So — what’s the plan, stan?”

Bess turned to Elvis, removing his hand from her knee where it had somehow landed, and whispered with breathy excitement.

“I’m going to sneak you off.”

Elvis quirked his eyebrows as she kept talking.

“I, um, well, I share an office with the CO's secretary, Mabel. Who might actually be the most powerful person at this command. So, as long as I get you back in time for reveille, we’ll be fine. None of these guys will mess with me.” 

“I, uh, I don’ wan no special privileges, I wanna, uh, be treated like any other man, any other soldier. I reckon I better -”

Elvis trembled when Bess touched his shoulder and rubbed it gently, looking up into his face with her big brown eyes, now tender and reassuring. He looked to her like he might cry as he spoke of not being special.

“Look, I would do this for any new recruit. Boot camp, uh. Well. This is the hardest  part of being in the Army. I promise. I’m not offering because you’re famous. I actually kind of hate you, do you know how much trouble you cause my office? So, you should know I’m helping you in spite of who you are. Promise. I would - I would do it for any soldier in your predicament.”

Bess said this firmly to convince herself as much as to convince Elvis. Then she added a friendly wink and drove off, enjoying Elvis’ bemused smile and telling herself not to worry. Underneath her calm, confidence was the nagging thought that, unlike Elvis, Bess knew exactly what happened if some rule-minded officer were to find out that she had snuck Elvis off post. She had a good understanding of rule-minded officers. Like her father. Who, thankfully, was out of town.

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

The bacon and eggs sizzled on the stove and Bess flipped them, shyly avoiding Elvis’ gaze from where he was leaning with his back arched against the door jab, his right hip twisted up and his thumbs hanging from his belt loops as he watching her cook.

“So, uh, what’s a secretary doing taking typewriters uh, um, out late on a Friday night an a bringin' ‘em home for, huh?”

Bess shook her head into the frying pan, then met his gaze.

“I , um, I happen to have some very important work I need to do from home. For the General I work for. That’s, uh, why I have a master key.”

“Uh huh.” Elvis’ smirked, nodding his chin as he stuck his hands slowly under his armpits, and lifted one knee up to lean back further against the wall.

“Hand me your plate, dinner is ready.”

Elvis bounced off the doorway and strode slowly over to where Bess stood at the stove, his long arms dangling loosely at his side. He had become more relaxed and confident once they got to her house, after tearing up a bit in the car and telling her how much he missed his parents and home and how he didn’t have any idea what Germany would be like. He had then muttered on about how millions of guys have been through this, so he knew he’d be alright, though the tear dripping down his cheek made Bess think he believed the exact opposite. Now he was behind her, almost a different person, cocky and teasing as his strong arms snaked around her waist to steady her hands.

“Nah, see how the egg is still all jiggly wiggly, Bessie? S’not done, not nearly. Wanna get the bacon good and browned up, so’s there ain’t no more pink left.”

She flushed at the way his breath hit her neck while his words softly compelled her to make his food the way he liked it. The rumble of his voice as her nickname rolled off his tongue was an assault on her sense of decency, and she let his hands linger at her waist for another beat before lifting them off and assuring him that she understood.No jiggly wiggly, no pink. Black. That she learned, was how Elvis liked everything, and everything was what she gave him, as he ate the pound and a half of bacon om her fridge and her last six eggs.

Bess mused that sneaking a fatigued Elvis off post and filling him full of food must be what made him clingy, comfortable and forward when he put his arms around her as she led him upstairs to the guest room. Rubbing his eyes as he plopped on the bed, Elvis grabbed her wrist imploringly and begged her not to leave him all lonesome in a strange house, in a strange town, where she was the only nice 'lil gal to treat him like a real human bean. Sighing, Bess sat at the top of the bed and let Elvis lay his head in her lap, where she stroked his forehead, and, at his request, started to tell him her life story. He had passed out after five minutes, when she had barely finished detailing how her parents met at Coney Island in 1932, three years before she was born.

Elvis' eye lids fluttered closed and he mumbled, “That’s a when I was borned. Aww, Bessie boo, we musta been babies at the same time.”

Bess groaned as she couldn’t seem to pull herself away from him, and stayed there with his head in her lap for another twenty minutes, afraid if she rolled it off her lap she would wake him. She was cupping the back of his head to gently move it off her lap when he thrashed around and called out the name Satnin. This led Bess to give up and lean against the head board, reconciling herself to a night sleeping sitting up with the most famous rebellious heart throb soldier in the world calling out for his mama in her lap.

Elvis’ hands moved first at the sound of the alarm, roving over Bess tummy and breasts  before he opened his eyes to the smacks of her hand hitting him off her. Somehow she had been pulled down into his arms over the course of the night, and she jumped up, commanding him to get his boots on while she ran down stairs and made some coffee. She prayed her younger sister hadn’t heard the alarm. Still wearing the dress from the night before, Bess watched Elvis gulp down his black coffee and chomp down the bread and cheese she had thrown at him to eat in the car. Loudly. With an open mouth. Wiping the crumbs from his mouth, he put his arm around her and squeezed.

Despite sleeping in his arms, Bess felt a shock and jolted at his touch.

“Just so we’re clear,  Mister, uh, Private um Presley, uh, this was just a friendly, patriotic gesture. I wasn’t, uh um, trying to seduce you.”

Elvis arched his eyebrow, his expression one of amusement and incredulity at the idea Bess thought of her behavior seductive. The way she had hesitated spitting out the word ’seduce’ so earnestly was adorable and endearing.

“OK, honey, you’re the boss, jus do me a favor and call me Elvis, huh?”

She nodded, eyes forward in concentration as she felt him squeeze her shoulders even tighter. She left it there, and found herself relaxing and leaning back into him after a few minutes with a sigh. She couldn't help it, it was an instinctive response to the way his fingers widened and began to tap out a rhythm on the side of her arm. Everything felt good, and their two bodies melded together in the dusky morning twilight for a spell until a gate came into view and Bess jerked up to throw Elvis’ arm onto the car seat with a smack, not noticing how he, too, stiffened with trepidation.

She stopped around the block from Elvis’ barracks and met his strong, uninhibited bear hug with her body, letting him press the air out of her lungs and kiss her cheek.

“Hey, Bessie Boo, I,uh, I can’t, I don’t even, I uh, I hate to leave you, honey, I ain’t even had time to tell you what I want to say, what -”

Bess put her finger to his lips, feeling his breath as she shhhed him. His brows were furrowed and he frowned, not wanted to leave her car and return to the barracks. She rubbed her hand up his chest reassuringly.

“You only have five minutes to get into your bunk, Private Pres - Elvis.” She murmured. “Now, go be a good boy, I have an idea, for how to help you sleep in the future.”

“Hmmm, sounds fun.” A naughty expression played across his face, his jaw hung open and he waggled his eye brows.

Bess realized the insinuation and hit his arm.

“Not that.”  She cocked her head towards the road. “You better go.”

“Huh, usually girls are tryin to run after me, not run me off.” She hit him again as he teased her. “Ok, ok baaaby. I’m off like a gun.”

Elvis face twisted into a crooked grin, and Bess felt like the sun was rising in her car, the earth was suddenly brighter when Elvis’ blue eyes beamed down at her and he kissed her goodbye. It was a light, sweet kiss aimed at her mouth but somehow missing and hitting the crease of her lips.

It had been, what, a year since she had been kissed? Bess kept her eyes closed, just enjoying the soft, tingling sensation of  his mouth crushed into her face. Elvis’ hands gripped her tightly, one hand on her neck, the other at her back, and he moved as if to kiss her again. In a brief moment of clarity, Bess realized she had been fighting her attraction to Elvis all night. It had been gradual and immediate, and she felt very different being close to him then she did when she saw hm in the movies or on the TV and radio. At the back of her mind she could hear all the reasons she shouldn’t kiss him. She pushed her hand up between their lips.

“Um, hey, look. Think we could just be friends? I, uh, I have a rule. I don’t date soldiers.”

Elvis sat back, a quizzical expression softening on his face into a smile as he rubbed her shoulder.

“Sure, Bessie baby, friends. Got it.”

He clicked his tongue and grinned, shooting her a thumbs up. Bess nodded, unable to stop the flutter of her heart as she watched Elvis’ long legs carry him forward as he jogged around the corner to his bunk, pausing to look back over his shoulder at her with a goofy smile as he waved goodbye.

“Fuck a duck.” She heard herself mutter, as she put her car into gear and drove home to shower and get Elvis Presley out of her head.

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

Chapter Two: Moo Moo & Tupelo

If you enjoyed this and want to read more, comment, reblog, and let me know what you think and if you would want to be tagged. Tagging a few of you on here who read my stuff, but DM or comment if you would rather not be ;)

@doll-elvis @richardslady121 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @father-of-2cats @everythingelvispresley @j-v-9-2 @eliseinmemphis @moonchild-daniella @notstefaniepresley @louisejoy86 @amydarcimarie @kingdomforapony @dkayfixates @artlover8992 @18lkpeters @literally-just-elvis-fics

[jhoneybees]

Hello!

Another lil note, I have seen your requests and I am going to work on them soon. Just trying my best to come up with the right plots and everything!

Thank you for being so patient and I appreciate you all reading my fics. Means the world🥹❤️

[whositmcwhatsit]

JADEY BABY i was perusing your masterlist thinking about rereading enjoyable slide when i noticed that- to my surprise- there was a third part to summer festival that id somehow missed when you posted it !!!!! what a wonderful surprise 🤩🤩🤩 didn't realize how much i missed darling sally and her poor overworked elvis until i was reading them again.! just wanted you to know how lovely and enjoyable i still find that sweet little series 🥰🫶🫶

What an absolutely lovely message to get! Weirdly, I have been idly daydreaming about Summer Festival Elvis lately while watching all the outtakes and unused footage from That's the Way It Is.

I'm pretty sure that the August 12th Midnight Show is the pinnacle of all human achievement and also the hottest Elvis ever looked (I reserve the right to change my mind at any time/constantly), which is saying something. When he's exhausted and his hair is soaked with sweat and sticking up in all directions and his eyes are heavy lidded and twinkling... What was I talking about again?

The sit down part of the show gets me like a punch to the gut. As he starts talking about Little Sister with sweat glittering on his eyelashes, I get why the girls pulled on their hair and screamed and fainted.

On the other hand, Aug 13 and the Red Ladder suit... See, how is anyone supposed to make a definitive statement about his hotness when he is just doing this all the time?!

Anyway, thank you so much for this message, the notion of anyone reading and enjoying my writing tickles every time I hear it. I love the idea of having a small part in making someone's day a little better, especially using my delusions and daydreams. We've come a long way from when my friends used to keep a tally chart of how often I mentioned Elvis and would try to perform interventions as only a disgruntled group of pre-teens could.