#elvis gif

[elviscinema]

“The image is one thing and the human being is another. It’s very hard to live up to an image.”

Elvis Aaron Presley January 8, 1935 - August 16, 1977

[butlervibesonly]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝟗𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐄𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 🤍🪽

Guys, I know this is blog about Austin, but I wanted to take a moment to say few words about Elvis as today marks his 90th birthday. 🤍 I started being Elvis’ big fan thanks to Austin’s incredible performance of him. And of course I knew him before but never ever I would have thought he would have such an big influence on me.

Everyone had to hear his name at least once, whether they know him or not. I myself always knew there was someone like Elvis, but to realize how big a personality he was and still is, was when I noticed that you don’t need to hear his whole name. Whether it was just Elvis or just Presley, I always knew who he was. And that’s how big an influence he had - and still has.

Known as the “King of Rock 'n' Roll,” or just “King” Elvis wasn't just a singer or actor; he was a phenomenon. An icon whose influence transcended music, culture, and generations. With a voice that could and can melt hearts, a charisma that electrified audiences, and a style that broke barriers, Elvis remains a towering figure in popular culture, inspiration, and a symbol of passion and individuality.

Beyond his artistry, Elvis's generosity and humanity further solidify his legendary status. He was known for his kindness, frequently giving to charity as you probably know, supporting his community, and reaching out to fans in deeply personal ways. This genuine warmth endears him to new generations who see beyond the glittering costumes and recognize the heart of a man who loved deeply and gave freely.

Decades after his passing on August 16, 1977, Elvis remains more than a memory. Graceland, his beloved Memphis home, stands as a legendary place for millions of fans there to admire. His enduring legacy is celebrated annually with events like Elvis Week, where fans from around the globe come together to honor his life and music. Modern artists praise him as an influence, his songs are covered and reimagined, and his story continues to inspire millions of books,movies, and documentaries.

I am young, and I did not have the opportunity to experience his presence. And although the modern era is based on completely different music, which from my point of view can often not even be called music, I am proud to listen to the King of Rock'n'roll and I do not regret knowing who Elvis was and still is in my heart.

Elvis Presley is not just a figure of the past, the icon of the 50s, 60s and 70s; he is an eternal presence. His music is a soundtrack for life's moments, his image a reminder of the power of individuality, and his legacy proof that true icons never fade. He broke barriers, shaped culture, and touched hearts, and for that, he deserves all the praise we can give. As long as there are dreamers, lovers of music, and believers in the extraordinary, Elvis Presley will always remain our King, forever reigning in the hearts of those who cherish him.

Elvis, I wish you happy heavenly birthday. You are missed, but in our hearts you live forever. ❤️‍🩹

[hooked-on-elvis]

Happy birthday, dear Elvis! 🎂🎉

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬 ♡︎ (@tender_loving_ep)

December 30, 1976.

Awww look at this! He couldn't reach the fan to kiss her, so he threw a kiss. Can you hear the smacking noise? 🥹😭😵‍💫 OH MY GOD, I LOVE HOW SWEET HE WAS TO HIS FANS! I feel so unlucky being born after his time, so unlucky. How I wish I had even a far away kiss from him to cherish! That's how much we all love Elvis. We miss him so bad, even if we never saw him in person.

[elvisbdoll]

“Happy Birthday, daddy!”

Summary: On Elvis’s birthday, January 8, 1976, his wife and their kids, Elias (9) and Melody (8), surprise him with breakfast in bed. They bring pancakes, bacon, and eggs, along with a handmade card and flowers.

Pairing: Late70s!Elvisxblack!OC

Tw: nothing really, just fluff

A/N: I know I’m a little late, but I have been working like a mad woman… so! I hope you guys enjoy and Happy birthday to Elvis! He’ll be forever 42 for me 🥹🩷

Graceland, January 8, 1976

The sun crept through the curtains in the master bedroom of Graceland, casting faint golden rays across the room. Everything was still—the soft hum of the heater the only sound breaking the silence. Elvis lay sprawled on the massive bed, the white linens tangled around him, his dark lashes brushing his cheeks. His face was relaxed, his breathing deep and steady, a rare sight for a man who often wrestled with restless nights.

In the hallway just outside the door, you stood with a tray in hand. A stack of golden pancakes sat next to crispy bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs. A small vase of flowers rested beside the plate, along with a steaming pot of coffee and a pitcher of orange juice. On top of the tray, a handmade card fluttered slightly, secured under the weight of the vase.

Beside you, your two children—8-year-old Melody and 9-year-old Elias—waited, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

“You think Daddy’s awake?” Elias whispered, holding a small bouquet of flowers he had picked from the greenhouse earlier that morning.

“I don’t know,” you said softly, your tone full of warmth as you looked down at them. “But we’re about to find out. Now remember, we have to be quiet. Daddy doesn’t get much sleep, and we don’t want to wake him too quickly.”

Melody nodded enthusiastically, clutching the corner of your robe with her small hand. Her curls bounced as she whispered, “Can I carry the juice?”

“Not this time, baby girl,” you replied with a smile. “How about you hold the card instead?”

Melody took the card, grinning ear to ear as she admired the crayon drawings she and Elias had worked on the night before. It depicted the four of you standing together in front of Graceland, hearts and music notes swirling around the words “Happy Birthday, Daddy!”

Elias adjusted the collar of his little button-down shirt, a serious expression crossing his face. “What if he’s too tired to eat?”

You crouched down to his level, brushing a hand over his neatly combed hair. “If he’s too tired, we’ll let him rest, but I promise he’ll be happy just to see y’all. This isn’t about the food—it’s about showing him how much you love him.”

——————————-

The three of you tiptoed into the bedroom, moving slowly to avoid the creak of the old wooden floors. Elvis was lying on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow and the other draped over the bedspread. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and his dark hair was tousled in that charmingly messy way that only he could pull off.

Melody gasped softly, her hands flying to her mouth. “He looks like a prince!” she whispered, her voice full of awe.

Elias rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “He’s not a prince, Mel. He’s a king. The King of Rock ‘n’ Roll.”

“Shhh!” you reminded them, setting the tray down carefully on the nightstand.

The three of you stood for a moment, watching him sleep. It wasn’t often that you got to see Elvis like this—peaceful, unburdened by the pressures of fame or the demands of his career. You felt a swell of gratitude in your chest, knowing that these quiet moments were what he treasured most.

Melody climbed onto the edge of the bed, her small frame barely making a dent in the mattress. She tucked her knees under her chin and whispered, “Can we wake him now?”

You shook your head, reaching out to gently pull her back. “Not yet, baby. Let’s give him a little more time.”

Elias leaned against you, his voice barely audible. “Does he always look this tired?”

Your heart ached at the question. You wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. “He’s just been working hard, sweetheart. But that’s why today is so special—we get to remind him to rest and enjoy himself.”

As if on cue, Elvis stirred, his hand reaching up to scratch at his head. His lashes fluttered open, and his bleary blue eyes scanned the room. It took him a moment to focus, but when he saw the three of you standing there, a slow smile spread across his face.

“Well, now,” he drawled, his voice husky with sleep. “What’s all this?”

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Melody cried, throwing herself into his arms.

Elvis caught her with a chuckle, sitting up against the headboard. His movements were slow and careful, but his eyes were bright as he looked at her. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, little bit?”

Elias stepped forward, holding out the bouquet and the card. “We made you breakfast, and Mel and I made this for you.”

Elvis took the flowers first, inhaling their scent before setting them on the nightstand. He then opened the card, his grin widening as he took in the colorful drawings. “Now, this here,” he said, holding the card up, “is the best thing I’ve seen all year.”

Melody beamed, practically bouncing with excitement. “Do you like the hearts? I drew those!”

“I love ‘em,” Elvis said, pulling her into a hug. “You’ve got a real talent, darlin’. Maybe you’ll grow up to be an artist.”

Elias climbed onto the bed next, settling on Elvis’s other side. “I helped with the music notes,” he said, a touch of pride in his voice.

“And you did a fine job,” Elvis replied, ruffling Elias’s hair. “You’ve got an eye for detail, son.”

You watched the three of them, your heart swelling with love. This was what mattered most to Elvis—not the sold-out shows or the gold records, but the simple, quiet moments with his family.

Elvis turned his gaze to you, his smile softening. “Come here, mama,” he said, holding out an arm.

You sat down beside him, leaning into his embrace as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Y’all really outdid yourselves,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m sure glad I’ve got y’all.”

Melody tugged on his sleeve, her face scrunched in concentration. “Daddy, do you like pancakes?”

Elvis laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that filled the room. “Do I like pancakes? Baby girl, I love pancakes.”

Elias smirked. “Good, ‘cause we made a whole stack.”

“You did?” Elvis raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing. “Well, I reckon I better try some, then.”

You handed him the tray, and the four of you shared breakfast in bed. Elvis made a show of savoring every bite, praising the kids for their “culinary expertise” and cracking jokes that had them doubled over with laughter.

After breakfast, you all spent the morning lounging in the bedroom, talking and laughing. The kids took turns showing Elvis their latest drawings and telling him stories about school, while he listened intently, his eyes crinkling with affection.

As the day went on, you couldn’t help but reflect on how far the two of you had come. Being with Elvis wasn’t always easy—the long hours, the constant travel, and the ever-present spotlight were challenges you had to navigate together. But moments like this reminded you why it was all worth it.

Elvis looked over at you, his gaze soft and full of love. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “For all of this. For them. For you.”

You leaned in, resting your forehead against his. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. This is what family does. We take care of each other.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your little family, you knew that this birthday would be one Elvis would never forget.

TAG LIST: @jhoneybees

[lavenderbbydoll]

Heavenly soul

[rjmartin11]

More Elvis Favorites before the big Nine-0!

Elvis posed with his at the time girlfriend, June Juanico. This is my favorite picture of them together.

This scene from GI Blues definitely gives me the blues... in the best way possible...

[lu-in-the-sky-w-diamonds]

Elvis and Me (1985) by Priscilla Presley

[carnevol]

[violaobanion]

ELVIS in uniform *:･ﾟ✧

for @sansaorgana

[thewonderofelvis]

In Loving Memory of Elvis (January 8, 1935 - August 16, 1977)

Elvis will always be the King. The reason is simple: he was the greatest singer that ever lived. - Ian Gillan

[sissylittlefeather]

I'm sorry this took me a million years to write @sloppiest-of-jos! Anyway, I hope it lives up to what you were wanting!

Searching for You

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and touch of angst

Word count: ~2.5k

"Elvis, you have a WIFE and a CHILD. Tell me again how you think this could possibly work out?!" Elvis sits in a chair, watching you pace around the room from behind his silver sunglasses.

"Honey, I've told you and told you. Those are my problems, not yours. I love you. I want you." He stands up and walks over to you, taking your hand gently and rubbing small circles on the back of it with his thumb. You look up at him and almost melt. Then, you yank your hand away and walk across the room.

"No! This has gone on for way too long." Memories of how you met on the set of the Singer special in '68 come screaming back to you. You think about him noticing you, a humble back up dancer for the bordello scene. He had walked straight to you and asked your name, not even bothering to pretend like he didn't like you. You'd seen him with the other girls and couldn't believe he was actually talking to you. But something about you caught his attention and he wasn't letting you get away. He invited you up to his dressing room after filming was finished and it didn't take long at all for you to end up naked on the couch, squirming as he brought you pleasure you had only ever dreamed about.

That was two years ago.

No matter how hard the two of you tried, you couldn't stay away from each other. The space between you was electric and you made ways to be together as often as possible, despite his marital status and your guilt. You fell hard and fast for him and he insisted he felt the same way, but he never entertained the possibility of ending his marriage.

On this particular occasion, you pace the floor half-dressed insisting this will be the last time. You're leaving California, removing yourself from the equation, and he is not pleased. Once you pull on the rest of your clothes, you point your shoe at him and yell.

"I'm done, Elvis. I'm done with being your back up girl to keep you company when your wife is gone. It hurts too much."

"Honey, it's not like that! You're the one I want! If anything, she's the back up girl."

"Then why won't you leave her?"

"I-I I can't."

"Yeah." You stuff your shoes on your feet and head for the door. "Goodbye, Elvis."

This isn't the first time you've had this argument, by far, but what Elvis doesn't know is that this time you're really leaving. You pack up all your things with tears streaming down your cheeks and head for home. The drive is long, but you've hit the end of your capacity for loving Elvis like this. You wonder how long it'll take him to figure out you're gone. Will he even care?

******

Elvis gives you two weeks to get over this most recent fight, sure that all he has to do is call you when Priscilla goes out of town. But when he does, your phone's been cut off. He hangs up and looks at the receiver in confusion. Surely you didn't actually leave.

He gets in his car and drives to your apartment. Maybe you've just changed your number and he needs to appeal to you in person. But when he knocks on your door, a man he doesn't recognize answers. He gets over his initial wave of jealousy and asks about you.

"Uh, I'm looking for y/n?"

"No one here by that name. Wait are you-?"

"Thanks." Elvis turns and walks quickly back to his car before the guy can ask him for anything.

When he gets back to his house, he calls all of his Memphis mafia into the living room and gives them an assignment. They need to find you and he wants it done yesterday. The guys all look at each other in mild panic and then head out to see what they can do while Elvis sits on the couch smoking a cigarillo trying to process his shock. You're really gone. Where on earth did you go?

******

After a week of Elvis wracking his brain and the guys bribing neighbors and friends, Sonny finally has a breakthrough.

"I was able to get ahold of her best friend at work."

"Yeah, and?"

"She went home to Kentucky."

"Home to Kentucky. Where in Kentucky?"

"She didn't know, but she said she knew it wasn't far from Nashville." Elvis rolls his eyes.

"What the hell does that even mean?! There are a lot of places in Kentucky that aren't far from Nashville. How does she define far?" Sonny looks at the ground and shakes his head.

"I don't know, boss. That's all she knew."

"Goddamnit." Elvis kicks the nearest table and Sonny looks at him hard.

"Might be time to give up on this one." Elvis meets his eyes with his eyebrows raised and then shakes his head.

"No. She's... no." He turns and heads for his bedroom. When he comes back with a suitcase, Sonny tries to stop him.

"Where you goin'?"

"Well, I guess I'm going somewhere in Kentucky that's not far from Nashville."

"You're really gonna go after her then?"

"Yes." Elvis gets in his car and starts on the road East towards Kentucky and you.

******

When Elvis finally makes it to Kentucky, he drives from small town to small town looking for you. He has a picture of you that he took one night that he shows to people. He has lots of pictures of you, but this is the only one appropriate for public consumption. He thanks God that he thought to take one with your clothes on one time. Honestly, it's his favorite photo of you because it's so naturally beautiful, your smile gentle and your hair a little messy from lovemaking.

The more he looks for you, the more it becomes apparent how much he loves you. He's been saying it for a while, but the emptiness he experiences at not knowing how to find you makes him know exactly how true it is. He loves you so much that he's driving around Kentucky just to find you again. How did he think he could give you up?

He's starting to lose hope when he comes across a preacher in a small town called Franklin. Exhausted and hopeless, he shows him the picture of you.

"That's y/n!"

"Yes!" Elvis looks up, shocked. "Do you know her?"

"Of course I do. I baptized her, didn't I?" Elvis laughs and hugs the man.

"Is she here? Where can I find her?"

"I haven't seen her in a long time, but if she's in town, she'll be at her parents' house." He gives Elvis the address just as it begins to rain. For the first time in weeks, Elvis is filled with hope and he decides he'll do anything to get you back.

He pulls up in front of the address that the preacher gave him and his heart beats wildly. He's so close to being with you again. The steady rain soaks him to the bone and he knocks on your front door and waits for someone to open it.

You see him through the windows and panic. How the hell did he find you here?! You know you won't be able to resist him if he talks to you, so you run outside and jump in your car, backing out of the driveway quickly.

But he sees you and tries to run to the car.

"Honey, wait! I just wanna talk to ya!" You focus on the road ahead and step on the gas to get away. Elvis runs back to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, starting the engine and throwing it in drive. He tries to catch up to you, but you're driving like a crazy person. The rain is still coming down pretty hard and he starts to worry about you driving like this. As you head out of town, your car spins off the road into a ditch and he realizes he was right to be concerned. Thankfully, because of the spinning, you don't hit the ditch too hard. He parks and jumps out of the car to run to you. You manage to get the door open and stumble out.

That's when you feel strong arms around you. The familiarity of them makes you cry and you shake with sobs as he holds you. He stands there in the soft rain, stroking your hair and whispering to you.

"You're okay, honey. I've got you. You're okay." After several minutes of this, you pull away from him and yell.

"What are you doing here Elvis?!"

"I needed to see you."

"Why?!" He pushes a piece of rain-soaked hair behind your ear.

"Because I love you, baby." You look up at him, your eyes wide as the rain continues to fall on you both.

"No! I'm not falling into this with you again!"

"Honey, I drove across the country to find you. Is that not enough to prove that I'm serious?!"

"Where's your wife, Elvis?" He groans and pulls his wedding ring off of his finger.

"I don't care." He turns and throws the ring into the patch of trees and you gasp.

"Elvis, that was worth a lot of money!"

"Maybe, but I don't want it anymore. I don't want her anymore. I want you, ya stubborn brat."

"Why?" He rolls his eyes. His patience is wearing thin as the two of you stand in the cold rain together.

"Because I'm so in love with you I can't even think straight when you're not around."

"I don't believe you."

"Y/n! Do you know how many small towns I've been to in Kentucky looking for you?! I love you so much I can't even imagine my life without you." You contemplate what he's saying. This is a long road to travel for casual sex. Maybe he does love you as much as he says he does, but there's still too many complications.

"How, Elvis-?"

"I'm leaving Priscilla." Your heart stops. Is he serious? "I can't live another minute without you. You're all I think about from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep. Honey, I will do anything to prove to you that I want you and no one else."

You look up at him, your heart so full of love for him that you feel like it might burst.

"You'd really do that? Leave your wife and the mother of your child. For me?"

"Yes. I should never have married her in the first place."

"Elvis..."

"All my life I've been searching for you. I just didn't know it. I should've waited. But I'm here now and I'm telling you. I love you more than life itself. Let me love you, honey."

And then you utter two syllables that will change your life forever.

"Okay." In the blink of an eye, he wraps himself around you, his mouth pressed to yours in a passionate kiss. He grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you so that your legs are around his waist, his lips never leaving yours. The rain has softened, so he carries you to the hood of his car and sets your bottom down. You've never kissed anyone with such fervor before. It's like you're trying to melt into one another with the way you press yourselves together. You arch your back as he rolls his hips forward into you, his erection pushing against you through his pants. He runs his hands up your thighs and pulls your panties down under your mini skirt. His thumb runs up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top and he begins to rub circles there. You drop your head backwards and moan loudly. Without another thought, you unzip his pants and pull his cock out, stroking it slowly with your hand. He groans and kisses down your neck, while you pull him to you and run the tip of his dick up and down your entrance. He mutters against your lips.

"You're such a tease, honey."

"Yeah, but you love me."

"God, I really do. So fucking much." He thrusts his hips forward and pushes into you, almost filling you in one motion. You cry out with pleasure when he does and lean back against the car. He pulls out and thrusts forward again, grunting. This time his hips meet yours as his entire cock is inside you. He makes a sound that's somewhere between a whimper and a moan and begins to slide in and out of you, pounding you to the steady rhythm of the rain.

The sensation of him slamming against you is enough to push you over the edge and you tumble headfirst into an intense orgasm, moaning and writhing and pulsing around him.

"Fuck, honey, I love you." You pull him down on top of you and whisper in his ear.

"I love you too." It's the first time you've ever said it back to him. He whimpers and kisses down your neck to your cleavage, never changing his steady pace of pumping into you. You can tell by the way his thrusting becomes more erratic that he's getting close too.

Finally, he slams into you hard and shudders against you, filling you with ropes of cum. It's also the first time he's ever cum inside you: another indicator that he's serious about you.

The rain has slowed to a drizzle as he collapses on top of you, spent and breathing heavily. He slides out of you and stands up, pulling you into a sitting position on the hood of his car.

"Come home with me, honey." He kisses your cheek affectionately and then backs up to look you in the eye, his blues ones seeing straight through to your soul. You couldn't tell him no even if you wanted to.

"I gave up my apartment."

"I want you to live with me." You raise your eyebrows.

"You still have a wife."

"I won't for long. I'll buy us a house. Just please say you'll come home with me." You nod and lean your forehead against his chest.

"I'm yours, Elvis." He tips your chin up to look at him.

"And I'm yours." He kisses your lips tenderly. "Now come on. Let's get out of the rain."

He drives you back to your parents' house, where you both change into dry clothes and settle on the couch together. Surprisingly, he's perfectly comfortable there with your mom and dad. He stays for a few days with you, letting you give him the grand tour of your hometown. Eventually, you head back to California together. Your car is totaled, so he promises to buy you a new one once you get home.

He wastes no time in leaving Priscilla and starting divorce proceedings. In the meantime, he buys the two of you a cozy little love nest and you're perfectly happy there with him.

The Kentucky rain was a baptism of sorts and you both came out of it changed for the better. It's not always smooth sailing, he is Elvis Presley after all, but you're happy more often than not. You never run away again, though you know he'd chase you if you did. And every time it rains, he holds you close and you remember the cold Kentucky rain.

******

The End

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

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[austinbutlerslovers]

Newly released Elvis photo from “the” Motel Scene ❤️‍🔥

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Walter hale 50 covering their mouth to shut them up. 😏

Hungry

A/N: Well this was fun. Any excuse to get dirty with Walter.

Pairing: Walter Hale x reader

Word count: Just a smidge over 1K

TWs: This is a smutfest. Walter is a soft dom, praise kink and some really dirty stuff with panties. Maybe the tiniest hint of orgasm denial.

You're the piano lady at the Chautauqua - you do all the accompaniment for the children’s singing during the daytime. You have no idea what Walter sees in you, when he has his pick of all the singers and dancers in every town. Not that you're under any illusion that you're the only woman he's sleeping with, that would be ridiculous. But he has been spending a lot of time with you lately. You run your fingers over the piano keys, doing a few scales absent-mindedly as you wait for the next kid. It's almost lunchtime. You can't wait for a break from this. 

Walter wanders into the tent where you're playing, eyes roving until they finally land on your figure, sitting behind the piano, just as he expected. He likes you a lot. You've got a little extra padding, in that kind of mid-thirties way, and he’s really been enjoying the effect it has on you. There’s a point that women hit at that age where they stop caring about what other people think of them and start caring about having a good time instead. He can’t understand why you haven’t been snapped up by someone already, but then maybe you’d never have got to this stage. You love sex, and he loves doing it with you.

He stands at the side of the stage until someone shouts something about lunch, and then you feel his presence behind you. 

“Hungry, honey?”

You somehow find yourselves in a walk-in linen closet, which would be spacious if it wasn’t for the shelves of linen, you and Walter all being in there. The shelves dig into your back and Walter, pressed against you, digs into your front. Your arms are around his neck and he’s kissing you passionately, grinding against you just a little. You let out a little pleasured noise as he moves from your mouth to your neck. 

“Still hungry?” He asks, with a raised eyebrow and a smile playing on his lips. 

You don’t need to be asked twice, nodding and getting onto your knees as best you can in the cramped space. Freeing his dick from the confines of his pants, you set to work licking and sucking, and he bites his fist to stay quiet. It’s hard not to make a noise when you’re so good at this, but he doesn’t want to be found. Eventually he decides you’re getting him dangerously close with your mouth and he wants to finish somewhere else. He taps your cheek and you let him slide out again, and stand up, obediently. He pulls your long skirt up around your waist and your panties to one side, and then he’s inside you in one quick movement. Grunting, his cheek pressed against yours as he rolls his hips into you again and again. 

“Oh, Walter! It feels so good.” You can’t help yourself, something just makes you want to tell him how his dick makes you feel. How much you love it. 

He moves his head just enough so you can see the smirk spreading across his face. 

“Is that so, honey?”

You nod quickly, and then the moaning starts. You don’t mean to moan, but every time he fucks you it drives you crazy and the noises just pour out of you. He’s still smirking, because he can’t help loving hearing you like this, but he starts to shake his head just a little too. 

“Uh-uh. You’ve gotta be quiet, honey.”

“Mmmm. I… I c-can’t…” you stumble over the words, brain feeling like mush. “...’s too good…”

He’s still slowly rolling himself into you, and he shakes his head a little more as he presses his hand over your mouth. 

“Gotta be quiet,” he says again, and then he starts to really fuck you. 

Your eyes roll back in your head as he thrusts harder and faster, his fingers pressing against your soft lips, fingertips digging into your cheek. 

“Good girl,” he mumbles, knowing he’s getting close and thinking you probably are too. But he doesn’t want you squeezing him and tipping him over the edge right now. 

Keeping his hand over your mouth, he slows down and pulls out, and you stare at him in gasping surprise. Not that it’s very easy to gasp with your mouth clamped shut, a snort of air rushing out of your nose instead. 

“Shhh,” he reiterates, before moving his hand. He needs both of them for this. 

Jerking himself with one hand, he pulls the top of your panties down with the other and rubs his dick through your folds, struggling to hold back a moan as he feels his release growing closer and closer. You look down at what he’s doing, dazed, and gasp as he cums all over your pussy and in your panties, making a mess in your underwear. Putting your own hand over your mouth instinctively, you watch as he moves back, letting your skirt fall back down to hide what he’s just done. Taking a few steadying breaths, he puts himself away again and then looks at you. You’re completely dumbfounded, and really, really horny. 

The smirk is back when he sees the look on your face. He puts his hand back over your mouth, and his lips to your ear. 

“Want ya to sit and think about me for the rest of the day now, honey.”

You groan into his palm. As if you were going to do anything else after that. 

“Then tonight I might give ya what ya want.”

He moves his hand and looks at you. 

“Yes, Walter,” you breathe. 

Another little smirk. “But no takin’ those panties off. Want you in ‘em all day.”

You accidentally moan out loud again and he tuts, clamping his hand back over your mouth. 

“What did I tell ya? Shhh.” He softens then, smiling down at you. “Not that I don’t love those pretty little noises of yours. But save them for tonight, hm?”

“Yes, Mr Hale,” you tell him, when he moves his hand again. 

He hums approvingly. “Good girl. And keep those panties on. I’ll be checking.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

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

[hooked-on-elvis]

Okay, so, it's been 52 years since this glorious moment happened (January 9, 1973).

I can't say how much I love the pictures taken that day. E looks like a lion to me, I don't know... he's just so glorious! When I found out the moment was taped I freaked out. Seriously.

🌈🌿⚡💛

[youaintnothinbuta]

Hi, darlin’! May I request a fluffy Elvis fic if your requests are still open. Like a midnight snack craving thing? Where Elvis finds the reader in the kitchen or something? ☺️💓

“I can’t have you goin' back to bed unsatisfied.” — elvis presley x reader

Summary: you can’t sleep- you’re too hungry. Finally you decide to go find something to snack on, accidentally waking Elvis in the process. He finds you downstairs and you both decide to have a little midnight meal together

Pairing: Elvis Presley or Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 897

Warnings: none! Teeth rottingly sweet fluff. Hopefully not any typos eee

A/N: thank you so much for this request, i really wanted to get back into writing for Elvis, it’s like you read my mind, I hope this is okay <33

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Each clock in the house would’ve read just past 2:30 AM, but there you were, wide awake. Your body had decided it needed something sweet, and no amount of tossing and turning was going to change that.

Barefoot, you quietly padded down the stairs, the soft creak of the wooden steps beneath the carpet breaking the silence. Reaching the kitchen, you opened the fridge, the cold air hitting your face as you peered inside, hoping something would jump out at you. But nothing did. A bottle of milk, some leftover dinner from earlier, a few eggs.

Next stop, the pantry. You opened the door, scanning the shelves. It was far from empty, crackers, chips, cookies, etc, yet still nothing that tickled your fancy. You moved some cans aside, your hands rummaging through the shelves, hoping to uncover something forgotten in the back.

Just then, you heard the soft padding of footsteps coming down the stairs, followed by the flick of a light switch, illuminating you, standing there with a handful of chocolate chips, looking guilty as ever. Elvis stood in the doorway, his hair slightly mussed from sleep, his eyes half-closed.

His low, sleepy voice asked, “Honey, what're you doin'?”

“I was tryin' not to wake you,” you said, giving him a sheepish smile. “But I just couldn't sleep. I’m hungry.”

Elvis chuckled, the sound deep and warm, and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Well, let's see what we can find.”

He walked over to you, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as he leaned over to look into the pantry. His presence was comforting, and you felt a little silly for dragging him out of bed, even if it was accidental.

“I wanted some ice cream,” you suggested, biting your lip as you searched the freezer, “but I don't see any.”

“Hmm,” Elvis mused, reaching up to grab a box of cookies. “What about these? Or maybe we could make somethin'?”

You sighed, not entirely satisfied with the options. “Make something?”

Elvis grinned. “Pancakes?”

"Pancakes, huh?" You considered it, the thought of warm, fluffy pancakes topped with syrup and maybe some whipped cream making your mouth water. “Don’t you want to go back to sleep?”

“We can sleep in,” Elvis assured you, already moving to gather the ingredients. “Bring some ‘a your chocolate chips out here.”

You watched as he moved around the kitchen, his sleepiness fading away as he got into the idea. He pulled out a mixing bowl and started cracking eggs, his movements quick.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” you teased, watching him toss the egg shells in the rubbish.

“Well, you got me up,” he shot back with a playful grin, “might as well make it worth it. 'Sides, I can’t have you goin' back to bed unsatisfied.”

You couldn't help but giggle at him, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks. “Well aren’t you sweet.”

Elvis smiled. “It's my job, darlin'. Now, get over here and help me.”

You joined him at the counter, measuring out some flour. The familiar routine of it was comforting, and soon enough, the kitchen was filled with the scent of batter sizzling on the stove.

Elvis eyed you sneaking another handful of chocolate, telling you about the dream he'd been having before you woke him up, something about being on stage in front of a crowd that wouldn't stop clapping no matter what. You laughed, imagining him trying to bargain with an audience that was too happy to let him perform.

“Sounds like a good problem to have,” you teased, flipping a pancake as it turned golden brown.

“Maybe,” he said, leaning against the counter, his eyes soft as he watched you, standing there in your pj set, slowly adding to the growing stack of pancakes.

Finished cooking, you sat down together, a pile of pancakes between you and some syrup to go with it. Your tummy growled audibly, earning quite the chuckle from Elvis. Pouring a generous amount of syrup over your pancakes, you dug in, smiling with how pleased you were. The house was quiet except for the occasional clink of your forks against the plates, and the pancakes were warm and filling, exactly what you needed.

”I think I might've outdone myself,” he says between bites.

You leaned forward to take another bite, nodding in agreement. Once he was done, Elvis leaned back in his chair, a satisfied look on his face.

“Well, darlin', how are you feeling now?” he asked, his eyes twinkling in the dim light.

You smiled, feeling full. “Much better. Thanks for getting up with me.”

Elvis reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “Anytime, sweetheart.“

You stood up, attempting to clear the table and wash up. Elvis gently pressed his hand against your chest, sitting you back down.

“Tomorrow’s problem,” he said, his eyebrow raised slightly.

Sighing, you complied, “okay.”

“Come on,” he said, his voice a gentle murmur. “Let's get back to bed.”

You nodded, “Yeah, let's.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you back upstairs and into your bedroom. Slipping back under the covers, Elvis pulled you close, his warmth enveloping you as you snuggled into his chest.

“Sweet dreams, honey,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, Elvis,” you murmured back, your eyes already drifting closed.