#from vegas to memphis from memphis to vegas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wanderingelvis · 8 months ago

Note

firstly, love your work!! second, can you write something about elvis being protective as well as maybe some Memphis Mafia content too? 🎀

i have a few of these requests so hopefully this works for all of them! 🎀🪩🕊️

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

word count: 2,508

pairing: 70s elvis x fem reader

warnings: kinda yandere themes, at least very possessive/protective elvis, manipulation

You’d brought new, fresh light into Elvis’ life. He was deep in his Vegas residency and you were this sweet little thing, bringing soft giggles, affectionate touches and happiness into the International Hotel.

Equally, this purity that you radiated came with a price. Elvis felt a need to protect you, in fact, all of the Mafia did. They were paid handsomely to protect you but even if they weren’t, you tugged on all of their heartstrings and they’d all look out for you, but none more so than Elvis.

Sometimes, he’d take it too far, not that you’d realise. His protectiveness went right over your pretty little head.

Like the time that he’d kicked out two men from a meet and greet with him after a show because they gave you a “shifty look”, or when he fired a make up assistant for letting you have even so much as a sip of champagne.

You’d ask about them, where they’d gone as you’d sit on Elvis’ knee and Elvis would plead ignorance, telling you that he ain’t getting involved with none of that personnel nonsense and you’d nod before turning back to your fashion magazine.

It was after a show that you thought was simply magical that you decided you needed to find a way to celebrate that success with Elvis.

And so, you settled on getting Elvis a cupcake.

You’d seen a stand of cupcakes as you’d headed into the auditorium before the show, as you’d been escorted in, with Elvis’ stepmother Dee holding your hand painfully tightly, seeing you as more of a burden than a friend. You had wanted to stop to try one of the cupcakes but Dee had yanked your wrist a little too harshly that you didn’t get the chance.

You had wished that you’d be free to roam around on your own but Elvis had made it clear that you were always to have an escort.

He insisted that of course he trusted you, it was strangers he didn’t trust, he couldn’t, he tried to explain to you as you nodded albeit with those adorable pouty lips.

In truth, he knew you were a mischevious and curious little thing, and not only that but you were just a little too naive to be left to your own devices.

He just knew, if someone tried to take advantage of you, they’d be able to succeed just too easily and to that end, Elvis had made a rule to always be escorted, whether you liked it or not.

But you’d decided you were a big girl, you could surely get a cupcake on your own as a present for Elvis after his amazing show and it would be okay.

Surely.

So as the crowd roared with applause, you scooted over in the booth to Larry Geller, the latest of Elvis’ entourage.

“‘Scuse me Larry, I, um, I gotta go to the ladies room and then I gotta go n’grab this, um, this cupcake for E, I wanted t’get him this present because, well, see that was such a lovely show, and um,” You quickly realised you were rambling to justify being left alone. “I wanted to get him somethin’ pretty!” You said softly with your big eyes glittering.

“Well, you sure you can go on yer own kid? Y’know I was told that you s’posed t’have someone with yer.” Larry mumbled, not really paying attention to you but watching a gaggle of female Elvis fans that were waving to get the attention of the Mafia as Elvis could be seen heading backstage.

“Oh sure Lar! It’s just the ladies room! I’ll be back in no time!” You said, seizing your opportunity. “Promise!” You giggled, scrambling out of the booth and making your way to the cupcake stand.

By the time you’d reached the stand, shuffling through all the bodies piling out of the auditorium, you were enchanted by all the different pretty cupcakes, delicately iced and decorated individually.

Meanwhile, backstage, Elvis had reached his dressing room only to be greeted by the Mafia and not the one single person he actually wanted to see.

“Where is Y/N?” Elvis said sternly, looking around the room and missing an absent baby.

“She wanted to surprise you with a cupcake so she went to the stand in the lobby.” Larry informed him, not thinking anything of it.

And suddenly, the tension in the room went from 0 to 100 as everyone else, more experienced with Elvis’ rules and regulations, especially towards you, knew what a monumental fuck up had just occurred.

“What do you mean she’s gone to the lobby? Who’s with her?” Elvis practically spat, his eyes scanning the room to see no one else missing but you.

“I- I sent her on her own.” Larry stammered, realising the error he’d made.

“Goddamn it!” Elvis shouted, slamming his whiskey glass on the table, causing it to shatter and make grown men flinch. “Go get her now. If she’s noticed and I swear to God, if that little girl is hurt, if any goddamn motherfucker has put their hands on her, I’ll kill all of you with my own goddamn hands.” Elvis roared.

A big group left the room and headed out in search of the little girl who was currently in the hotel lobby.

“It’s you!” A shrill voice hollered at you just as you’d purchased a strawberry cupcake, making you glance up. “You’re Elvis’ chick,” the elderly lady said, partially to you, partially to her friend next to her as the two older women cornered you, the little thing as you held the cupcake for Elvis in your hands, your eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“I, um, I-“ You stammered, the poor baby.

“You are a weird little thing aren’t you?” One of them said cruelly.

“It’s like what they say in the papers about her being like some kinda little pet of Elvis’.” The other one said, in an observational tone that made you scrunch your eyebrows sweetly in confusion.

“Wha-“ You managed to murmur before being interrupted.

Because then the pile on started, as the enormous crowd started noticing you.

“Y/N, over here!”

“Is it true Elvis dresses you?”

“Does Elvis control you?”

“Are you really a virgin?”

“Would ya sign this for me?”

“Who did you screw to get with Elvis?”

With tears swelling up in your big eyes and your big bottom lip jutted out, wobbling as amxiety consumed you, all you had wanted was a cupcake for Elvis.

But maybe he had been right all along, maybe you did need someone with you at all times.

“Y/N, come here, come with us!” An older lady said, grabbing your forearm with a pinch, making the little girl yelp.

“No, no!” You whimpered as hot tears started to spill from your eyes and down your cheeks. You cowered, trying to wriggle away from the lady.

You were close to a fully blown panic attack, not that you knew what the words were for that. You just knew you needed your Daddy.

“Get away from her! I said move!” A loud voice yelled. You recognised the voice as Red West and saw him and Jerry making their way through the crowds.

Red got the woman off you with ease as you clung to Jerry, petrified of your surroundings.

“S’alright now honey, we’re gon’ get you back to EP, you’re okay now darlin’.” Jerry lovingly reassured, sensing how terrified you were, as you sniffled and were rushed away by him.

Truth be told, Jerry thought Larry was a bit of an ass, he understood why Elvis liked him but he knew he wasn’t the right person to leave you with.

You were quickly ushered into the security room where you saw Elvis, surrounded by his entourage and you wasted no time in running over to him.

“There’s my little one.” Elvis soothed, consoling his baby, rubbing circles in your back as you hiccuped and clung to him. “Breathe now baby, deep breaths f’me. Are ya hurt lil’ one?” Elvis cooed but he didn’t give you the time to respond. “Jer, she hurt?” Elvis almost barked.

Jerry stood there, hands on his hips and shaking his head. “I don’t know, boss. There was a crowd and some old lady was hollerin’ at her when I got to her.”

“A-a lady, a-a lady grabbed me and um, she wanted to, she wanted to take me away and I- I didn’t wanna, I didn’t wanna go Daddy,” You sniffled oh so vulnerably, letting out the nickname Elvis had instructed you to give him and one that slipped out when you did indeed feel needy.

Elvis felt his heart yearn to comfort you but he was still seething at the massive oversight that had taken place, as well as the fact that you’d disobeyed his rule.

“Honey, you know what our rule is about wandering off?” Elvis said coolly, devoid of emotion as he was trying to restrain his anger.

You nodded your head feebly, your cheeks turning a softer pink at the slight embarrassment you felt from Elvis talking down to you in front of all of the guys. “To not wander off on my own and always tell you where I’m goin’ to keep me safe.” You recited sadly in a soft voice.

“Ain’t that right.” Elvis said lowly. “So why, did ya think it would be a bright lil’ idea to disobey me huh kid? Y’need me t’spank that sweet little ass right here and now so that y’learn and start listenin’ t’me? Is that what y’need huh?” Elvis chastised.

You knew all of the guys were uncomfortable but you also knew that Elvis didn’t give a damn, his eyes trained darkly on you and oh boy, did it make you feel the size of a mouse.

You looked around, embarrassed with your wet lashes fluttering as you sniffled a little more, an overwhelming bundle of feelings, including feeling scared, shy, panicked, embarrassed and relieved all swelling in your little tummy.

“Well honey? Y’gon use that mouth little one or do I gotta pull you across m’knee?” Elvis said, taking his index finger under your chin and tilting it as he towered over you, so that your watery eyes could meet his.

“I just wanted to get you a cupcake��” You choked out as Elvis’ brows furrowed with confusion.

“A cupcake?” Elvis said, his expression softening as it so often would whenever you spoke.

You nodded with a pout, your swollen bottom lip jutted out.

You weren’t intentionally trying to melt Elvis’ heart with those soft, sad puppy dog eyes, you were just naturally so sweet that Elvis couldn’t resist abandoning his threats.

“Uh huh!” You whined. “See, I saw these pretty cupcakes, the ones, the ones out there!” You exasperated, turning your body to point in the direction of the lobby. “Them ones with the decorations and the icing and I just,” You and Elvis both realised that you were getting all worked up again.

“Baby,” Elvis hushed, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back.

He could tell just by your odd albeit cute passion for this cupcake that you were telling the truth and you really didn’t want to be in trouble.

You tried the breathing technique that Elvis had taught you for when you so often get a little too overwhelmed as your breaths got ragged. “M’sorry.” You mumbled.

“S’okay baby,”

“I just, you did such a good show, I mean, y’know I love every show n’you were just so good n’ all, I just, just wanted to get you a present for it. And, see, the cupcakes were just so pretty!” You whimpered, pleading your case. “I know, I know I ain’t s’posed t’be wanderin’ off, I just really wanted t’get you the cupcake. I promise I ain’t gonna go on my own again, not ever!” You promised, your eyes wide, trying to convince Elvis.

Elvis looked down at your poor state, he knew it had been a scary experience for you, he just needed to look at the way you were picking at your own fingers, actin’ all fidgety.

When he looked up to observe the expressions on the Mafia’s faces, he knew they all agreed. His sweet thing meant no malice and she sure as hell had been spooked enough to never want to go anywhere without someone with her — and maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all, Elvis thought.

“M’real sorry.” You said softly, calmer now that you’d finally managed to get your words out, even if they weren’t exactly coherent.

Elvis smirked as he saw a cupcake box on the side that you’d clearly put down before you’d run into his big arms only moments before.

“That the ‘oh so special’ cupcake huh little one?” Elvis said with a smile, pointing his index finger to guide your vision.

You simply nodded, you didn’t really have all that much energy left, you were so overstimulated, you poor thing.

“Jer, hand me that box will ya?” Elvis hollered, with Jerry moving swiftly to grab the box and place it in your hands, the odd sniffle coming from you, observing it all. “Want me t’take a look, dolly?” Elvis asked you, his tone now noticeably gentler than it had been.

“Yup.” Is all you managed to muster as Elvis took your little hand in his big one and guided you to the couch, letting you nestle into his side.

You watched with glassy eyes the man you adored with all your heart open the box, showing a pretty little cupcake, even if it was the tiniest bit battered from all the chaos.

“Oh baby, how did y’know this one would be my favourite huh? How’d you get so clever?” Elvis cooed, realising his job was now to make you feel better.

“Really?” You squeaked, pushing yourself up from his chest to observe his expression as you bit your finger.

Elvis grabbed your hand to gently pull it away from your mouth, he never approved of you biting your nails, it would make you sick and that’s the last thing he wanted.

“That’s right darlin’.”

“They gave it a name, it’s called ‘The King’.” You said gently before Elvis threw his head back with laughter at having a cupcake named after him. “That’s why I got it!”

Your whole body began to untense at his laughter and you looked around to see all of his entourage too, laughing at what you’d said, making you feel better.

“Oh baby, whatever am I gon’ do with you hey?” Elvis chuckled, pulling you in to lovingly pepper your face with kisses, eliciting sweet giggles from you.

Despite it being a rhetorical question, Elvis knew exactly what he was going to do with you.

He would never again let you get into such a vulnerable and volatile situation again. He was going to make sure you were always looked after and always kept by his side.

Constantly.

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callieselvisobsessed · 7 months ago

Text

Keep loving on me honey

4K Words (whoops!) Pairing: 60'sElvis! x Curvy!Reader

Warnings: Smutttty smut, p in v, fingering, use of Daddy, reader is insecure about her body slightly, creampie, The Colonel is mentioned (ew). Swearing, Obviously 18+ so minors DNI thankyouuu, if I've forgot anything please let me know!

So this is my first ff, lemme know what you guys think and if I should do another one or not lmao. Enjoy!

This’d been the first time in a long time that you felt… off. Something clearly wasn’t right, every outfit you had tried on did not hug your curves the way clothes used to. As you stood at your full length mirror in yours and Elvis’s bedroom at Graceland, this uncomfortable feeling clearly was not going to disappear. You weren’t about to let it ruin your time though, Elvis had invited the Memphis Mafia and their wives for a barbeque and pool party, so you wanted to look your best. You had decided on a brown sun dress, the material was comfortable, light and made the off feeling subside slightly. The dress had just enough of your breasts showing that you wouldn’t stand out too much. Youd stand out to Elvis though, you always did. Regardless of the outfit or lack thereof. He loved you hopelessly, endlessly, with his whole beautiful soul. You knew what you meant to him and how much he meant to you. It was these occasions of quality family time that you got to see the side of him a select few got to see. You wanted to make the time you had together special, as he was in Vegas performing at the International Hotel most days. You loved seeing him on the stage, giving every audience an almost ethereal experience, a once in a lifetime show. To see his passion and love for the music and the performance vibrate through his entire body made you love him more than words could ever describe. It also made you feel a lust no other man could ever make you feel. Those gyrating hips, his sweaty chest, the noises of pleasure he’s make, knowing you were watching, knowing just how to tease you…

You found yourself getting carried away in the mirror and running your hands across your cleavage, across the soft skin peeking above your dress and down your waist. Your skin began to feel all too hot at just the mere thought of your perfect partner, your imagination would carry you away most of the time. With him being away so often as he was, you’d miss him dearly in the day and crave him desperately in the night. The way you’d make love to each other consumed your being; the tender but intense way he’d grab your wrists and pin them above your head, his hitch in breath when he’d enter you from behind, his praises and moans of “that’s it baby”, “such a good lil girl for me”, “o-oh come on honey.. cum for me..”…

“Y/N?”

Your daydreaming was interrupted as Elvis opened the door and began to walk towards you. “Ya’ almost ready honey? People should be here soon.” You turned around and smiled at your lover. He was wearing black shorts and a red shirt, you always loved red on him. Any colour will look astonishing when you’re that handsome. “Nearly baby, just deciding on my outfit. Whatchu’ think?” you did a small twirl and showed the dress to him fully. You still had your doubts, but Elvis always knew what to say to make you feel sexy. He chuckled softly at your twirl and said “mmm well aren’t you a pretty lil thing? Cmere honey, twirl for me again..” He grabbed your hand and span you slowly around, causing you to giggle while he watched you, looking you up and down and biting his lower lip. He pulled you closer to him, sighed and wrapped his arms around your curvy hips. “I love this dress on you Y/N.. lookin’ all dolled up just for me… ” With a squeeze of your ass, Elvis leaned down and kissed you quickly, teasingly. Continuing to knead, he slowly kissed down your exposed neck and collarbone, grazing his hot tongue against you. “so I should wear this one then?” You sighed and moaned softly. Knowing you didn’t want him to stop, he moved further down and began to kiss and nibble at the top of your breasts, licking and sucking at your skin until he made a soft “hmmm” sound, clearly enjoying what you were doing to him with your body. To your surprise and frustration, he stopped, let go of your body and took a step back, smiling. That smile was too smug for your liking, why did he have to tease you like this? He knew just what to do to get you riled up and part of you hated that. “hmphh Elvis…” you whined, knowing how needy you sounded but didn’t care. “What honey?..” he matched your whiny tone, fake pouting. You were not in the mood to be teased today. If he wanted to play this game, then you were all for it. You span back around to the mirror and readjusted your dress and smoothed it down. “I’ll be ready soon baby, not if you keep distracting me though.” You faked a careless demeanour, but the ache between your legs was almost unbearable now. He added fuel to the fire and he knew it. You saw him smile lovingly at you in the mirror. “mhm, well don’t let me get in ya’ way now..”. He stepped towards you again and put his hand on your shoulder, kissing the back of your hair. He closed his eyes and you could feel him breathe you in. You wanted to melt into his touch but needed to finish getting ready. “I’ll meet you downstairs Mr Presley”. With a very soft push of your hips back against his, he let go. “Yes ma’am”. With a playful smack of your ass, he rushed to exit the room with you chasing him to the door, both laughing like children. You loved that no matter what, Elvis and you always had fun. That’s all you could ask for, with your past being the way it was. Elvis lifted your spirits and brought joy to your life again. You’ll always thank him for that.

After a few touch ups, you headed downstairs just as everyone started arriving. You walked through to the kitchen as Elvis did the usual sweep of hugs and handshakes, laughing and joking with his friends that were like brothers to him. You smiled and greeted everyone and you all migrated to the garden as one of Elvis’s staff brought out the lemonade and meats to be cooked. You helped them set up as all the wives grabbed their drinks and sat beside the pool, leaving the men to do their thing for a while (which involved play fighting and playing War.) You had become close with Jennifer, Charlie’s wife. It was a good, welcoming feeling to be friends with Elvis’s friends. She handed you your drink and you sat down with her with everyone else. “So Y/N, how’s things? Has he popped the question yet?” She winked at you and smiled. You chuckled heartily and replied “Not yet. I think E and I aren’t there yet, but if he were to ask I definitely wouldn’t say no.” “Well he better not wait too long sweetie, can’t let someone as good as you slip away!” She grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly. You hadn’t given much thought to the idea of married life with Elvis, you were content with how things were now. Jenny did make a good point however, you’d been with Elvis for almost two years. You started to overthink why he hadn’t asked yet, questioning his intentions. You brushed it off and tried not to think about it. You knew he loved you so much, was there something in the way? His busy schedule? The Colonel? Another woman? Other women?

You sipped your lemonade and pushed those thoughts out of your mind. Dwelling on it will spoil things between you, you wanted to be happy with Elvis and live in the moment.

A few hours had passed, everyone either being in the pool or lounging next to it. You happily listened to the neighbouring conversations, eventually getting up to grab a burger. As you put the food on your plate, you realised you had accidentally spilt some sauce on the front of your dress. “a-h fuck” you murmured to yourself as you used your napkin to wipe it off. You turned back to walk towards the group of women and saw some of them looking at you and snickering. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered you, in your mind being a curvier girl always meant being the butt of some others joke, you had ignored it in the past and even embraced it. Unfortunately today, it struck a nerve. You walked up to Jenny and whispered “I’m just going to change my dress, I’ll be down soon okay?” “alright hun” she replied and you set down your plate and glass, walking back into the house and going up the stairs. Elvis’s attention had been caught by you walking back inside, he was no longer listening to whatever Joe was saying to him.

You walked into the bedroom and stripped off, throwing the dress on the floor and slumping down onto the bed with your head in your hands. You had already felt emotional all day, this did not help. You sighed and led back, letting your head hit the mattress and looked up at the mirror on the ceiling. Being in just your bra and panties, you stared at yourself. You had built up so much self-love and confidence over the years, why did today feel like a step backwards?

“Honey?” Elvis. You looked forwards and saw him leaning against the door frame with a towel around his neck, in just his shorts. He looked divine, glowing with purely authentic masculinity. “whatcha doin’ up here?” He walked towards you and knelt down, putting his forearms on your thighs and leaning his head up at you. It baffled you how a man could exude such boyish charm and sexual energy all at the same time. You sat up and ran your fingers through his hair. “I came up to change my outfit, I got something on it..” You paused before you spoke again. “ I just needed to clear my head.. that’s all.” You led back down and closed your eyes. You wanted to just stay in this bed and sleep away your feelings. Elvis began stroking your thigh carefully, giving you all the comfort you needed. “That’s okay Y/N, take as long as you need. It’s just you n’ me.” The pent up tension you carried began to slip away the further up your thigh he smoothed. You started to wriggle your hips slightly at that oh so good feeling of Elvis touching you, you wanted more, so much more.

“Mmm E… you feel good..” you moaned quietly, barely a whisper. You spread your legs ever so slightly, almost attuned to his touch. This was music to Elvis’s ears and he loved to please you, god how he loved to please you. “ahh is this what you needed honey? For daddy to love on you like this?” His breath against your inner thigh and his words made you vibrate with pleasure and you felt yourself becoming wetter by the second. “I- oh.. Yes Elvis..” His touch travelled even further up your leg until he ran his fingers ever so slightly across your clothed pussy, making you whimper. You had given in to the feeling and wanted, needed Elvis to fuck you. “Ya been such a needy girl today, let daddy take care of you.” That word. He knew this was driving you crazy and the teasing was getting to you. He moved your panties to the side and revealed your slick, throbbing opening, making his mouth water and cock twitch in his shorts. You glanced down and saw him reach into his shorts and begin tugging at his cock slowly, loving the way you were nice and wet for him, plump and aching to be fucked. He used his index and middle fingers to spread your lips and rub your swollen clit gently. “Elvis pleaseee..” “please what honey? You’ll hafta use your words..” This incredible man… the teasing… it was all too much now. You sat upright abruptly and grabbed his hand in a huff. You looked into his blue crystal eyes shining up at you and you saw his lips twitch up into that smug smile again. You had had enough. “Elvis Aaron Presley, I want you to fuck me. Hard.” And with that, he grabbed your panties and ripped them down your legs, discarding them onto the bedroom floor somewhere. He pushed you down onto your back and rolled you over onto your front, undoing your bra and throwing it across the room and bringing your knees up onto the bed spreading your legs in the process. Your ass was flush against his crotch and you felt him grind against you, causing a guttural moan to escape his beautiful lips.. The noise escaping you was a high pitched squeal, utter surprise. You had obviously had sex with Elvis before, multiple times. This was the first time he showed his more dominant side compared to the tenderness he’d normally give you. This is what you needed, you knew you were in for a ride tonight.

You were completely exposed to him, at his mercy. He pulled his shorts down and stepped out of them, chucking them with your panties somewhere. You felt him bend over you and take your earlobe in his lips, sucking lightly and running his tongue just below your ear and down your neck, breathing heavily and letting light moans escape him. “Ya want me to fuck you hard huh- mm-? Use you like the bad lil girl you are?” He accentuated his words with a snap of his hips against yours, so rough and so right. You began to feel so desperate that you rubbed your ass against his cock, up and down, feeling your wetness slide onto the inside of his thigh. “Please daddy. God- fuckk- please.. I need you Elvis..” He straightened up and run his hand along your ass, giving you a hard smack and rubbing the soft skin afterwards. The pain mixed with the pleasure was enough to make you cum already, he hadn’t even fully started yet. After a couple more smacks, he aligned his cock to your hole, not before teasing you just that extra bit. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your slick, from your clit all the way up to your other sensitive hole. The sensation felt so fucking good, you moaned loud and long. “That’s it baby, moan louder f’ me. Let everyone downstairs know how good daddy fucks ya’”. God this was too good and too much, your whining and moaning sounding throaty and eager, you needed some sort of tension release. You reached down and rubbed your clit slightly, making the ache in your pussy bearable. You knew Elvis would love to watch you do this, giving him a show and rolling your hips, enticing him further. “o-oh god Y/N.. daddys gonna fuck ya’ nice and good now honey..” As he spoke those words, he thrust his cock so deep inside you and grabbed your hips flush to his, both crying out in pleasure in unison. He stilled for a moment for you to adjust to his size, the thickness of his cock stretching out just how you liked. You continued to rub your clit slowly, moaning Elvis’s name like a prayer.

After what felt like forever, Elvis pulled back and out and slammed his cock back in, so hard and desperate for you. You could feel the intenseness of his thrusts through your whole body, making your breasts bounce. He kept his grip on your hips as began to plough into you from behind, the obscene clapping sound mixed with yours and Elvis’s moans and whimpers filling the air. You felt his heavy balls slap against your thigh and you just about lost it. You rubbed your clit so quickly that the room started to spin and fill with the scent of sex. “E-E-Elvis.. Daddyyy.. Oh fuckkk..” You were so close, Elvis felt you throb and tighten around him. “Come on baby, cum f’ me. Cum all over this cock.. uh-h mm..” You reached your peak and came for him, your moans so loud it was guaranteed the guests would have heard you. His pace did not stop, he continued to fuck you hard. The squelching sound of his cock going in and out of you made you smile, you were made just for him. “Y/N.. I need t’ see that pretty face..” he pulled out and flipped you onto your back, pulling your calves onto his shoulders and entering you again. His face was so angelic in this moment, his skin glowy and hot with sweat, his brows furrowed and lips open. You pulled him down to you and kissed him needily, all tongue and lips mushing together. He pulled back and looked down into your eyes moaning “yeah baby, that’s it.. mm-hm look at daddy as he puts in inside ya..”. You began to rub and flick your clit again, needing to cum for Elvis once more. This drove him wild, he entered you again and the volume of his moans got louder and louder. A continuous string of “uh uh u-h” sounds fell from his talented lips, the sound was enough to make you cum again. He pounded your pussy even harder now, letting go of whatever tension he was carrying, giving you every part of him entirely. You were almost at your peak again and Elvis knew, so he reached down and started to play with your nipples, rolling them in his slender fingers and tugging gently. “o-hh Elvis ahh FUCKKK!” You grounding your hips down onto his cock, matching his thrusts. The way you were fucking each other was almost primal, animalistic. You both had discovered a new side of each other, revealing more to love of one another. Elvis couldn’t take it anymore and needed his tongue on something. He leaned down and put your right nipple in his mouth and suckled, flicking his tongue against you and nibbling softly. With Elvis hitting your g spot over and over again, this pushed you over the edge. You let it all go and came harder than you had ever came in your life, squirting juices all over Elvis’s cock and his thighs and all on the bedsheets.

Elvis’s rhythm started to become uneven and you knew he was getting close. You started to throb around him and milked his cock for all he had, looking up into the ceiling mirror and being in awe of the view above you. “Cum inside m-e Elvis, mm-mmhm-uh pleaseee!” As he heard you say this, he moaned against your nipple sending a shockwave of pleasure through your chest. He released your nipple from his lips and moved upwards to kiss you, running his hands through your hair and grabbing hold softly, mixing the dominance and tenderness perfectly like only he knew how. He pulled away and moaned “Wan’ me t’ fill you up huh baby? Make you a mama? Oh-h Lord have mercy.. I love you Y/N, oooh God I love ya so much honey, gonna cum in this lil’ pussy now, make you all mine.. oh uh o-h FUCK Y/N!” you felt him splutter and cum inside you, coating your walls with his thick hot cum. He collapsed on top of you and you both led there for a little while, heavy breathing and coming down from the highs you gave each other. “that was.. wow Y/N..”. He chuckled and you felt him go soft inside you, pulling out slowly. You both gasped as he fully disconnected from you, now feeling less full up. His cum began to spill out of your hole and in true Elvis fashion, his smile lit up and he reached down teasing your hole with his fingers. “awh now we cant have that now can we honey? I said I’d make you a mama…” so he pushed his fingers inside of you, keeping his load from spilling any further out. This made you moan loudly again, God this man. “Elvis… I love you.” “I love you too Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.” He pulled his fingers out after a minute or two and you both relaxed in the comfortable silence, cuddling into each other. Eventually Elvis got up and went to the bathroom, coming back with a wet cloth and a glass of water. He handed the water to you and you thanked him as he wiped your stomach and thighs of your juices. “my messy girl” a small blush creeped over his cheeks as he cleaned his front as well. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up gently, leading you to the bed and pulling the covers back. You both led down against the pillows and Elvis wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead and enveloping you in his embrace. “should we go back down?” “nah, they can leave if they want. I need my baby next to me.”

Elvis hummed a song to you quietly, almost like a lullaby. You closed your eyes and listened to your boyfriend and wondered how you could ever love someone so much, more than life itself. “Elvis?” “Yes honey?” You wanted to word this a certain way, not to confuse or frighten him. What Jenny said was still on your mind and you needed to talk to Elvis about it, despite it scaring you to your core. “W-where do you see us going?” You felt Elvis shift position to look at you. “whatchu mean Y/N like.. with us?” thank the heavens you didn’t have to explain. “Yeah exactly..” “well…” he began; “you know I love you an’ I know you love me. You make every day brighter, I go crazy when I’m not with ya’. We’ve lived together here for 4 months 2 months and 1 day exactly.. hmm..” He paused to scratch his very slight stubble on his chin. “… The next step is marriage. Is that something you would want honey? to be my wife?” Was he asking for your hand in marriage now? You sat up and stared at him. You needed to check if this was really what he was saying. “Definitely E, I want to marry you and be your wife but… maybe we should wait a lil longer. When your filming is done, when The Colonel lets you have some time off..” You scolded that man in your head, he made you feel physically ill. The way he treated Elvis made you angry and you didn’t like to dwell on it too much. “When the timing is right, i want you to be my husband. My Elvis.” You led down on his chest and placed your hand above his heart, feeling the soft thump of his steady beat. “I agree baby, I really do.. youll make the perfect lil wife someday. Pretty sure you’ll be carryin’ my baby soon enough too..” You felt his hand slide down to your side and begin to tickle you. You tried to pull away but his grip on your side prevented you from moving, so you laughed and squealed as tears formed in your eyes. You tickled him back along his side, giving him no choice but to release you. You quickly straddled his lap and pinned his arms above his head, catching your breathe. He stared up at you like you were the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever seen, the most musically sound song he’d ever heard, the epitome of perfection on top of him. He was yours, every part of him. “I really do love you Y/N, I wanna spend the rest of my life being yours, an’ you mine”. You kissed him gently, replying with your lips on his. No matter who or what affected your mind, you knew Elvis was yours and would be there for you till you both moved onto the next life together. There was truly nowhere you’d rather be in this moment. By your lover, best friend, future husband.

#elvis imagine #elvisaaronpresley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis fans #elvis presley #elvis music #60s elvis #elvis fandom #elvis the king #big daddy elvis #elvis photos

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sissylittlefeather · 1 year ago

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Viva Las Vegas

A mafia!Elvis AU Story

A/N: This was a request that threw me for a loop. I didn't know anything about the mafia. But after watching Casino and talking to my husband, I think I did this one okay and I had an absolute blast writing it! Hopefully it's exactly what it's supposed to be and you all enjoy it!

Warnings: SO MUCH SMUT AND VIOLENCE 18+ NO MINORS, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, swallowing, ejaculation, creampie, ALSO GUN VIOLENCE

Word count: ~6.2k (it takes a lot of storytelling)

In 1973 after the Aloha Special, Elvis decided he had had enough of the colonel and his life in Vegas. He didn't want to leave Vegas per se, but he wanted to try something different.

Thats when he bought a casino and entered the world you'd been trying to get out of for a decade: the world of corrupt casino bosses and the mafia back east.

You hate your father. He owns one of the casinos in Vegas, which means he's in neck deep with the mafia. All of the casinos are tied up with the mob somewhere. Some are from New York, some in Chicago, and a few in other cities around the Midwest.

The casino Elvis buys is New York mafia and it doesn't take him long to get wrapped in their web. Despite his rock star status, he loves it and is eager to do odd jobs for the bosses here and there and earn their trust. Before too long, he's one of their most trusted lieutenants. And by 75, he's his own kind of boss in Las Vegas. The mafia game is new in Vegas, but Elvis is on the forefront, creating his own family of Memphis guys to help him enforce the dealings of his casino.

Your father owns a Chicago mafia casino. And although there's not really beef between the two in their individual cities, the battle over who reigns supreme in Vegas rages. Elvis dives headfirst into this feud and is quick to figure out who the enemy is: your father.

This is not a problem in the beginning. You've sworn up and down that you'll marry a nice man and get out of this bullshit. You're tired of people you know ending up buried in the desert. You'll never get involved with a mafia boss. It's just not in the cards for you.

And then 1975 rolls around and you attend an event put on by the gaming commission to thank the casino owners for their contribution to the city of Las Vegas. You wonder if they have any idea how dangerous it is to have all these men in one room together. Still, you're not there with any of them. You're there on the arm of a senator. He's sweet and naive, and a little bit dumb, but at least he doesn't kill people in his spare time. Your father is disappointed, but the work you're doing with the senator might pay off, so he doesn't try to stop you.

That's when you meet Elvis. You catch his eye across the room and hold his gaze for a few seconds. You know who he is, but you're not eager to know him any better than you already do, so you look away. Still, you feel eyes on you and you look back in his direction to find that he's still staring at you. You look away again to try to convey your disinterest, but when you look back a third time, he's left his date and is walking towards you.

"Oh fuck." You whisper under your breath and roll your eyes. You walk away from the senator toward the bar in an effort to dodge Elvis. But somehow he catches up to you.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink, but you already have one." When you turn to face him, he's taller than you expect.

"Also they're free."

"True. Can I offer you something in gold and diamonds instead?" He smirks and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes again.

"I only wear white gold."

"Noted. What's your name."

"I'm y/n. Y/f/n y/l/n."

"Y/l/n? Any relation to Marco y/l/n?"

"He's my father."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so I suggest you move along, soldier. I know who you work for."

"Now hold on, I'm not a soldier. I own my own outfit these days."

"Good for you. I'm still not interested." You go to walk away from him and he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him.

"Oh, I think you are, doll. You wouldn't be so keen on runnin' away if you weren't." Your proximity to him allows you to notice the scent of him. He's all cologne, cigarillos, and peppermint. It's an intoxicating blend and there's something about the way his eyes sparkle that draws you in.

You were a fan of him when you were younger and he was still starring in movies. He's 40 now and he's grown into his maturity in a way no one expected. He carries more weight than he has before, but somehow that makes him more attractive. Like he's a whole man now and he knows what a woman wants.

"Say I was interested. It's not like you'd be allowed anywhere near me. If you don't want to end up in a hole in the desert, I suggest you go back to your date."

"Your father doesn't scare me, honey. All I heard was that you're interested." In a move bold enough to shock you, he leans in and kisses your cheek.

"I can't believe you just did that."

"You're a beautiful girl. Might be worth a hole in the desert." No one has ever pursued you with such fervor. You hate to admit it, but it's turning you on quite a bit.

"Okay, I'm interested. What's your plan now?" He smiles and wraps his hand around your waist.

"Come with me, sugar."

He leads you through the party back to the door that goes into the kitchen.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

He takes you into the pantry where they store the dry goods. It's bigger than a closet, so there's space for both of you. As soon as the door closes, he kisses you, one hand on the back of your head and the other on your lower back, pulling your body in close to his. You kiss him back and melt into his embrace. You know you should stop him, but you don't. He pulls back and looks into your eyes.

"Just how interested are you?" His hand moves to your breast, where he squeezes gently and then slides down to your core, easily finding your clit through your dress.

"I'm interested, daddy. But you better make it worthwhile."

"Mmmm sugar, don't you worry about that. Daddy'll take good care of ya." He gets on his knees and pushes your dress up to your hips. Sliding your panties down your legs, he moves back up to your center, pressing his mouth to you. You gasp a little at the sensation. He slides two fingers inside you to pump in and out while he licks your clit. He makes circles over and around it with his tongue and you moan and put your fingers in his hair. He continues to lap at you as he fucks you with his hand. You feel your orgasm coming to slam into you and your walls tighten around his fingers.

"Let go, baby. Cum for daddy." As soon as he says it, your climax hits and the pleasure washes over you like waves crashing on a beach. He licks you through your orgasm and then backs away slowly. He stands back up and turns you to face away from him. Whispering in your ear, he unbuckles his belt and drops his pants just enough for his cock to bounce free.

"You want daddy to fuck you, sugar?

"Mmmhmmm yes please daddy." You whimper and moan as he lines himself up with your entrance from behind. Then, he holds your hips as he slides into you and picks up a steady rhythm of pounding you. He's balls deep inside you when someone opens the door. He slams it shut with his hand and hollers, "Occupied!"

You giggle a little and he laughs too. Through the whole episode, though, he doesn't stop fucking you. He holds your hips and slams into you over and over again until it feels like you just can't stand it anymore. You cum hard on his dick and he pulls out just in time and pumps his cock a few times to shoot his seed all over your ass.

"Fuck yes, sugar, fuck!"

When he's finished, he finds a napkin to clean you up and then pulls your panties back to where they belong. He slaps your ass before he pulls your dress back down. "Mmm. I want you to belong to me."

"I'm not sure that's possible. You know who my father is."

"I don't give a damn who your father is."

"Well, I don't want you dead. This was fun, but that's all it was."

"We'll see, sugar." He leans in and kisses you deeply one last time. Then, you both make your way out of the closet and back to your respective dates at the party.

But for the rest of the night, you catch him looking at you from across the room.

You've never hated your father more.

******

Three days later a box arrives at your suite. Your parents have the penthouse, but your living area is nothing to sneeze at. You've got three full bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and a large space for entertaining complete with a bar. You're no stranger to luxury.

So when you open the box and even you are shocked, you know this is an impressive gift. You lift out a large, ornate jewelry box and open it carefully. The whole thing is packed to the brim with white gold and diamonds. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and rings you suspect to the tune of roughly a million dollars. There's a card inside as well, so you open the envelope and pull it out gently. A necklace falls into your lap when you go to read it. The card is blank except for a single line:

"This one makes you mine. -EP"

You hold it up to examine it. It's smaller than some of the others, but the whole thing is coated in little diamonds. The letters "TLC" surround a lightning bolt and hang on a white gold chain. You look back down at the box of jewelry on the table in front of you. If you accept this gift, you're opening the door to a dangerous situation for both of you. Is he worth it? There's a part of you screaming yes, but you also swore to never get involved with a mob boss. And now you're considering your father's biggest rival? No. You decide to call him and thank him, but graciously tell him no.

"Hello?" Of course he doesn't answer the phone. It's obviously one of his guys.

"I need to speak to Elvis please."

"I'm sure you do. You and every other broad in this town."

"Tell him it's Sugar and I just want to thank him for the gift." You can tell he sets down the receiver and you hear mumbling in the background. After a few more seconds, the phone is picked up again.

"Hi, Sugar. Sounds like you got my present?" His voice is warm and sensual and you're almost hypnotized by it. You shake your head a little to bring yourself back down to earth.

"I did. And it's very sweet, thank you. But-"

"No."

"No?"

"You're not sending it back. It's yours."

"Elvis, I can't keep this."

"You will. And you'll have dinner with me tonight."

"Elvis, no I-"

"I'll pick you up at 8."

"You can't come here."

"So meet me on the corner outside. Wear something pretty and don't forget your necklace. I'll see you at 8." There's a click and the line goes dead. You look at the receiver and slam it down on the dialer. He's impossible.

******

At 7:30, you sit on your bed staring at the dress you picked out. It's tight and short and covered with black rhinestones. Are you actually going to do this? You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to see him again, but there's so much at risk. Your hair and makeup are done and all you need to do is get dressed and put on your jewelry. You look at the clock again and bite the inside of your cheek.

"Fuck it."

You stand up and slide the dress on. It fits you like a glove and won't do much to keep him from liking you. Neither will the black strappy heels you pull on. You go to the jewelry box and put on a pair of large diamond earrings, a bracelet, and several rings. You stand there holding the TLC necklace and stare at yourself in the mirror. Going to dinner with him is one thing. Wearing the necklace that claims you as his own is totally different. But you're not sure what he might do if you show up without it. At 7:53, you throw the necklace around your neck, grab your purse, and head for the door. You stand on the corner for less than thirty seconds before a long black limousine pulls up and the window rolls down.

"You waitin' for someone?" Elvis gives you a mischievous smile.

"Maybe."

"Hi Sugar. Come on." A guy pops out of the car and opens the door for you to slide in next to Elvis. As you settle on the seat, Elvis reaches across and fondles the necklace where it sits on your chest.

"It looks good on ya." You feel your cheeks get warm.

"I wasn't sure I wanted to wear it."

"And yet, here you are. You're in love with me, Sugar."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself."

"Because I'm in love with you."

"You literally met me once."

"That's all it takes when your souls are aligned like ours are." He leans forward and captures your lips in a deep kiss. You begin to make out heavily. As your tongues move against each other, the passion overwhelms you and you crawl on top of him to straddle him. You continue to kiss and his hands run over your body hungrily. Eventually, he grabs your ass with both hands and pulls you in against him, his hardness pressing into you between your legs.

"How far is the restaurant?" You whisper breathily.

"Far enough." He lets you unbuckle his belt and get his pants open enough to pull his cock out. You hike your skirt up to reveal that you aren't wearing panties.

"Sugar, you're gonna kill me." He holds your hips, lining you up with him, and then drops you down on his dick. You roll your hips against him and fuck him deeply. He grunts and grabs your neck to pull you into a kiss. You both know that you don't have much time, so you move on him quickly. He lifts his hips a little and his cock rubs perfectly against your g-spot. Without warning, you cum hard on him and the intense pleasure runs through you like fire.

"Mmm." He grunts and you know he's getting close too, so you back up off of him and drop to your knees on the floor of the limo. You put your hands on his thighs and pull his cock deep into your throat. "Dear god, woman."

You bounce up and down on him for a few more seconds before his hips buck and he fills your throat with his warm release. You swallow it all down and then run your tongue around his uncut tip. When you pull back off of him and sit on his lap, he grabs your chin and kisses your lips gently.

"Sugar, you're mine and you know it."

"I am." He kisses you again.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

The car stops and you both make yourselves presentable before the door opens. You head into the restaurant together and never look back.

******

You spend the next few weeks together pretty much 24/7. Periodically, he disappears to take care of business, but for the most part you're either talking, sleeping, or fucking. You really hope that your parents don't notice that you haven't been home except to grab a suitcase since you left for dinner that night. This is the happiest you've ever been in your life and at the beginning of the fourth week Elvis walks into his suite after some business and asks you to come sit with him on the couch. You do as he asks, but you're starting to get a little worried because he seems really serious.

"What is it, baby?" You settle in close to him but he moves away from you to look into your face.

"Sugar, I've never felt like this about a woman. I truly believe our souls were meant to be together. I want you to marry me." He pulls a box from his pocket and opens it to reveal an enormous emerald-cut three-stone diamond ring of no less than 14 carats.

"Wow. Elvis, I- wow."

"What do ya say, Sugar?"

"Elvis, I want nothing more than to marry you. But I don't think I can. The only reason we've made it this long is because my father doesn't know."

He slams the box down on the coffee table and stands up, pacing.

"Damn it, Sugar, I told you I don't give a fuck about your father! Let him find out!" You stand up too and raise your voice to match his.

"Do you think I want him to kill you?!"

"You don't believe I can defend myself?! Is that what you think of me?!" He kicks over an end table, sending the things on it flying. "I'm a man, y/n! This is what I do!" He puts his foot on the coffee table and pulls the gun from his boot, dropping it on the table with a thud. He rips his jacket off and pulls the two guns out of his shoulder holster, tossing them on the table too. He pulls the guns from his waistband holsters and adds them to the pile.

You watch as he does all of this. You've seen your father do almost the same exact thing at the end of a long day. You feel the tears well up in your eyes and you want to scream. How did you end up here, so in love with a man who is in this world? If you marry him, you'll never escape. You'll get married in the mafia, raise your kids in the mafia, and watch your husband die in the mafia. It's all too much and the tears start pouring down your cheeks.

He realizes you're crying and puts his hands on his hips, trying to avoid softening, but he can't.

"Now, Sugar, what's all that about?"

"N-nothing." You sob and he walks over to you and wraps you in his arms. He strokes your hair and you cry on him.

"Come on, out with it." You burrow your face into his chest and yell.

"I don't want you to die!" He looks up at the ceiling and sighs deeply.

"Sugar, I don't have any plans on dyin' any time soon." You look up into his face and he uses his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"You don't know that."

"No. I guess I don't. But I know this. I love you right now and I want to marry you right now. And if I die, then I die, but I'm alive now and I want you to be my wife while I am." He leans down to kiss you softly on the cheek. You push away from him and he sighs again deeply. "Sugar, please."

You turn and look at him. Then, you snatch the ring box off of the table. He's afraid you're going to throw it at him, but you don't. Instead, you open it and take the ring out. You jam it onto your ring finger and purse your lips.

"Okay. Yes."

"Yes?" A smile spreads across his face.

"Yes." You walk over to him and jump on him and he catches you, spinning you around. He kisses you deeply and then carries you into the bedroom. You both laugh as he takes your clothes off and you fall into each other again.

******

What you don't know is that your father has noticed your absence. He sent out some of his favorite soldiers to locate you and they did. They call him to let him know where you are.

"She's with Elvis?"

"Yeah, boss. Looks like she's been there a while."

"I guess we have some business to take care of. Bring her back here."

"Understood."

Your father hangs up the phone after hearing about your location. Then he turns and throws the phone at the wall.

******

You're lying naked in Elvis's arms when there's a loud knock on the front door. He immediately gets up and dresses quickly. One of the things he's learned is how to assess a threat and this feels like something bad.

"Stay here, Sugar." He goes in the living room and puts all his guns back where they belong on his person. There's another loud knock.

"We know she's in there! Open the fucking door!" He looks at you standing in the doorway in one of his shirts. He walks over to you and hands you one of his pistols. Then, he kisses your forehead and cups your cheek in his hand.

"Stay in here. This might get ugly."

"Those men are my cousins. Maybe I should just go with them."

"Is that what you want? They won't let you come back to me." Your eyes flick between his while you think. The decision you make right now will define your future. Do you stay with the man you love? Or do you go with your family and forfeit your chance at happiness with him but make sure he stays alive? You know which one he would want you to choose. The cold metal of your engagement ring becomes heavy on your finger. You can't live without him.

"Donny got in a fight when he was younger and doesn't see very well out of his left eye. Use that if you can. I love you." You kiss him deeply on the lips and then take the pistol in the room and shut the door. You find some pants and put on your shoes in case you have to make a run for it. Then you sit on the bed with the pistol in your hand and listen.

Elvis opens the door carefully. He's got a loaded gun in his hand behind his back. The two men saunter into the room.

"Where is she?"

"Who?"

"You know who. Marco sent us to get her."

"You can give her to us the easy way or we can take her. It's up to you."

The sound of your cousins' voices is not hard to hear. Donny is the big booming one. The higher-pitched whiny one is Nick. They're both a little older than you, but you try very hard not to remember them as kids.

"You're not taking her." Elvis looks toward the door. They must've already dispensed of the guards he keeps out there day and night.

"Hard way it is, then." You hear the sounds of a scuffle as Donny lunges toward Elvis. You open the door silently and peek into the room. Elvis fires a shot at Donny, but he's a moving target, so he misses. Donny wrestles the gun away from him and gets him on his knees with his hands behind his back. Nicky stands in front of him with a gun pointed in his face.

"Tell us where she is and we'll take her and go. We're not lookin' to start a war over this bitch. Her daddy just wants her back."

"Fuck you and her daddy."

As the conversation happens, you slip off your shoes and walk silently into the room with the pistol in your hand. It takes Donny a minute to register that you're there, so his warning comes too late.

"Look out Nick!"

When he turns to face you, you have the pistol cocked and pointed at his head.

"Oh, come on now, y/n. You're not gonna shoot me."

"You know I know how to." It's true. Your father had a gun in your hand as soon as you were old enough to hold it. Your marksmanship is solid.

"Just come home with us. You don't need this fucker."

"Don't talk about him like that." You shake your head and then Donny chimes in from across the room.

"Just grab her, Nick. We don't have time for this." Nick nods and makes like he's going to grab you. Without thinking, you pull the trigger. Again, your marksmanship is spot on.

Once you shoot Nick, Donny is so caught off guard that Elvis is able to slip away from him. He grabs his loaded gun from the floor where he dropped it earlier, turns, and shoots Donny in the head.

Your gun falls to the floor and you drop to your knees shaking. You've never shot a person before, much less a family member. Elvis rushes to you and catches you just before you pass out.

******

When you come to, you're in a car. You turn and see Elvis in the drivers seat.

"You alright, Sugar?"

"Yeah. Did I really shoot Nick?"

"You did."

"Fuck." You're overcome with nausea and you start to shake again. Elvis notices how pale you are and pulls the car over on the side of the deserted highway you're on. You stumble out of the car and vomit in the dirt. It doesn't take long for him to be by your side, holding your hair back and humming a soothing melody. When he can tell that you're finished, he scoops you up like a baby and carries you to the backseat of the car. He slides in next to you and holds you close to his chest. You're too shocked to even cry. That'll come later.

"Nicky was a real asshole. He shot my first boyfriend- buried him in the desert- because he took my virginity. Pretty sure my father just wanted him beat up, but Nicky was always taking things too far. He would've killed you too."

"I believe you, Sugar. You did what you had to do."

"I did. And I'm not sorry. I probably should be, but I'm not." He lifts your chin and looks into your eyes.

"Welcome to the mafia, Sugar." You nod slowly and lean back into his chest. You sit like this for another half hour, with him still stroking your hair and humming. Eventually, you sit up.

"Okay. I think I'm okay. Where are we going?"

"One of my guys owns a motel out here. It's safe. We'll stay there until I can figure out the next step. I have an idea, but I'll need to do some business to work it out."

"I trust you." He kisses your forehead and then you both get out and get back in the front of the car. Once you're settled, he grabs your hand and holds it in his lap. The future is cloudy for both of you, but at least you're together.

******

You're at the motel for three weeks in the desert. Overall, you're doing okay except for the nightmares. But Elvis is always there to take care of you, whether you're screaming, crying, or throwing punches. It doesn't take long for you to sink back into your routine of talking, sleeping, and fucking.

Elvis makes business calls and even goes to a couple of meetings in town. Every time he leaves, you're a basket case until he returns. You sit in the bed with a loaded pistol in your lap just waiting. But every time he comes back unscathed. It helps that his men are all over the motel and they accompany him any time he goes into Vegas. The only thing you argue about is who needs the most protection when you're apart. He wants you to have the bulk of the security and you argue that he's in much more danger in the city. He always wins, though, and you end up with a better protection detail than the president.

At the end of the three weeks, Elvis comes to you with an assignment.

"I need you to get dressed. We're going into Vegas."

"For what?! How should I dress?"

"Well, I've got a little business deal to solidify and then we're celebrating. So wear something nice. Maybe something white."

"White?"

"Yeah. Just in case." You have no idea what he could possibly be talking about, but you follow instructions and pick out the only white dress in your bag. It's a long-sleeved mini dress with a deep v-neck that shows off your cleavage nicely. You put it on with your white patent leather boots. When he sees you, he looks you up and down and whistles.

"Will this work?"

"Sugar, it's already working." He grabs you and pulls you to him, kissing your neck down to your breasts.

"Mmm you want to take it off of me?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. But we have somewhere to be soon. Later I'll rip it off with my teeth." He nibbles your breast a little and growls. Then he turns and grabs a briefcase, puts his jacket on over his guns, and walks you to the door.

You settle in the back of the limousine with him and giggle a little. He looks at you with an incredulous look.

"Sugar, what's got you tickled?"

"I was thinking about the first time we were in the limo together."

"And you didn't have any panties on?" He turns to look at you, his eyes darkened with lust.

"I'm not wearing any tonight either."

"Mmmm." He shakes his head and grunts. Then he runs his hand up your thigh to your center to verify what you've said. It's true. "Sugar, you sure know what daddy likes."

He gets on his knees in front of you on the floor of the limo and yanks you to the edge of the seat. He spreads your legs and pushes your dress up over your hips. Dragging his tongue up your thigh, he presses one finger into you.

"Mmmm yes daddy." You moan as he works his hand on you.

"You want daddy to eat this pussy?"

"Yes please." You answer breathlessly and put your fingers in his hair. He smiles at how eager you are and moves his mouth to your center. His tongue begins its familiar pattern over and around your clit. He's learned your body and knows exactly what you like. He knows how you squirm when he runs his tongue directly over you hard and how you moan when he pushes his tongue into your slit. He knows when to flatten his tongue and move his head side to side and when to tighten his tongue to a point and lick up either side. He does all of those things and more and it's only a little while before you cum hard in his mouth and he licks you through it, the electricity of your orgasm running through you to your fingertips and back again. He kisses your clit one last time, pulls your skirt down, and then sits up next to you on the seat, wiping his mouth with his hand. You're just about to crawl on top of him when the car pulls to a stop. He leans over and kisses you.

"I can wait, Sugar." He pats your knee and the door opens for you to get out. Your breath catches.

You're at your father's casino.

"Elvis! What are we doing here?! He will kill you!"

"No, he won't. I've arranged a business meeting through both of our lawyers. And his board of directors."

"How did you work that out?"

"It's a long story. Come on." In a gesture bold enough to make your heart jump, he pats your bottom to encourage you to walk. When you get inside, you head to a meeting room. Your father is seated at the head of the table with several men around him. They're in boring, relatively cheap suits, though, so you suspect they're truly businessmen and not mobsters. You notice your father's mouth pop open a little when he sees you and Elvis walk into the room, but he quickly rearranges his face. His jaw flexes, but that's the only indicator of his feelings. Elvis shakes his hand and smiles warmly and then takes the seat at the other end of the table. The meeting begins with the discussion of business. As it turns out, Elvis has opened a shell corporation and then used it to negotiate a purchase of your father's casino. Now you see why he's so angry. Without knowing it, your father has allowed his biggest rival to buy his prized casino. He made a pretty good chunk of change in the meantime, but now Elvis and his connections to the New York mob will run Vegas.

After the business is settled, Elvis dismisses the business men so that it's just you, him, and your father in the room.

Your father glares at him.

"I should kill you for this disrespect."

"I wouldn't try it. I have more men in this town now than anyone else. You wouldn't make it to the sidewalk." Your father swallows deeply. He knows he's beaten, so he turns to you.

"I'm going home to Chicago. You're coming with me. Your mother misses you." There's a small pang in your heart at the thought of your mother. Elvis puts his arm around your waist and pulls you to him protectively. His grip steadies you and you feel more confident than you have since you walked into the casino.

"No, I'm not. I'm sorry about mother, but I'm not going back to Chicago." Your father's anger flares up again and he reaches for one of his guns. But Elvis beats him to the punch.

"Here's the deal, Mr. Y/l/n. I bought your casino. And I'm gonna marry your daughter. You can accept that and leave, or I can shoot you right here, right now. It's up to you." Your father looks between the two of you and then down at the gun Elvis has pointed at him. He spits at you and throws his gun on the table. Then, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room. Elvis turns to you and pulls you into a passionate kiss.

"I can't believe that just happened." You shake your head incredulously.

"It did, Sugar. Now. I already asked the question and you already said yes. All that's left to decide is when and I say tonight is as good a night as any."

"That's why I'm wearing white!"

"What do you say, Sugar?" You nod your head excitedly and throw your arms around his neck.

You manage to make it in and out of a chapel without anyone noticing who you are. And you've got a slew of bodyguards with you anyway.

You barely make it the short ride to the casino before you've got your hands in his pants. Instead, you make it to the elevator and he hits the stop button while you yank his pants down and drop to your knees in front of him. You hold the base of his cock with one hand and lick a slow circle around the tip. Then you run your tongue along the bottom of the shaft and tease him a little.

"Goddamn, Sugar." He weaves his fingers into your hair as you pull him deep into your throat. He holds your head still and begins to thrust into your mouth, making your eyes water. Suddenly, he stops and tries to pull away from you. "Mmmm. Daddy wants to fuck you, Sugar, and if you don't stop I won't be able to."

You back off of him and stand up. He pushes your back against the wall and lines his cock up with your entrance. Then, he bends his knees a little and pushes into you like he's done so many times before. But this time, he's your husband.

"Hey." You grab his face and look into his eyes. "Don't pull out this time."

"You sure, Sugar?"

"We're married, aren't we?" He kisses your mouth, your cheek, your neck, and then your mouth again. You didn't know he would be so excited, but he is. The prospect of another child is something that's excited him since he met you. He begins to pump in and out of you deeply.

"God, I love you, Sugar."

He pounds into you rhythmically for a few more minutes before you feel him shudder into you.

"Oh fuckkk yes." He yells as he fills you with his warmth for the first time, but certainly not the last. He stays inside you for a while, kissing your neck. Then, he slowly pulls out and starts the elevator again as you adjust your skirt and he puts himself away. When the doors slide open, the men posted there nod to him. One of them says, "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Presley." And you giggle. You're Mrs. Presley.

He scoops you into his arms and carries you across the threshold. You've finally accepted that the mafia will be your life forever. But as long as it's a life with him, you couldn't care less.

******

Share your thoughts! I love to hear from you! 🩷🩷🩷

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

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @elvisbooty76

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfic #mafia au #mafia!elvis

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atleastpleasetelephone · 4 months ago

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Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

Here is my kinktober masterlist - the prompts are from @starsandskies and these are all Elvis or one of his film characters. They're all x reader unless I've noted otherwise. Let me know what you're most excited about!

Day 1: Dirty talk -Glenn Tyler

You're trying to study but Glenn has other ideas...

Day 2: Against a wall - Elvis during the filming of Charro!

You deliver the Charro! script to Elvis and he takes his frustrations out on you.

Day 3: Orgasm control - Clint Reno

Clint comes to visit you to learn how to make love to a woman.

Day 4: Stockings - 70s Elvis

Elvis takes a liking to your stockings...

Day 5: Praise kink - Dr Carpenter

Dr Carpenter makes a house call.

Day 6: Thigh riding - Rick Richards

You've been flirting with Rick for the whole helicopter ride and now you want to have your way with him.

Day 7: Risky places - Sonny x reader x Elvis

It's yours and Sonny's wedding day, but you keep making eyes at Elvis. Sonny decides it's time to indulge your little fantasy.

Day 8: Threesome/Moresome - Elvis and many women in the jacuzzi

Elvis asks the Memphis Mafia for a tub full of women and has some fun with them.

Day 9: Naked-Clothed - Joe Lightcloud

Joe comes home from the rodeo unexpectedly and catches you having a little fun.

Day 10: Knife play - Charlie Rogers

You're one half of a knife-throwing act in the circus and Charlie wants in on it.

Day 11: Leather/Latex - 68 Elvis in a latex suit

Elvis puts on an outfit he thinks you can't resist, but you turn the tables on him.

Day 12: Role reversal - BDE

When you don't want to see photos of yourself, Elvis realises he hasn't told you you're pretty for a while.

Day 13: Oral - Elvis in the cadillac, early 60s.

Elvis takes you for a date in his new gold-plated Cadillac Limousine.

Day 14: Sensory deprivation/Sensory play - blindfold

When you find it difficult to let go in bed Elvis has an idea.

Day 15: Cock rings/Cages - Walter Hale

You and Walter can't leave each other alone, and he has stamina.

Day 16: Flashing - A girl flashes him at a concert, 72.

When Elvis is surprised by you flashing him he knows he has to find you.

Day 17: Biting/Biting marks - 70s Elvis

You tell BDE you're bored with your sex life so he takes matters into his own hands.

Day 18: Body writing - BDE

You want to show Elvis how much he means to you after a show, and decide lipstick is the best way to do it.

Day 19: Pegging/Strap-ons - Princess universe

Princess persuades Elvis to try something new in the bedroom.

Day 20: Facesitting - 1956 Elvis and an older woman.

Elvis comes to take your daughter for a date but ends up falling for you.

Day 21: Masturbation - Outtake from Gentle On My Mind

Gloria in the shower, thinking about Elvis.

Day 22: Breeding kink - 70s Elvis.

Elvis comes back from signing the contract with the International Hotel full of excitement.

Day 23: Bondage/Restraints - 72 Elvis, a continuation of Kinky Boots.

When you won't stop playing with Elvis' cane collection even though he's told you not to, he has to teach you a lesson.

Day 24: Dom/Sub dynamics - 50s Elvis reading fan mail.

When Elvis gets aroused reading his fan mail you have to teach him a lesson.

Day 25: Impact play/Spanking - 70 Elvis.

You persuade Elvis to hit you with one of his belts.

Day 26: Voyeurism/Exhibitionism - Dr Carpenter.

When Dr Carpenter doesn't come round at the usual time, you decide to go to him. Sequel to day 5.

Day 27: Choking/Breathplay - Greg Nolan.

You're a model Greg is photographing but you can't seem to get your head in the game, so you persuade him to choke you a little.

Day 28: Lap dance - 1970 Elvis in Vegas.

Elvis has fun with an exotic dancer after a Vegas show.

Day 29: Masks/Costumes - set in the present day with 1969 Elvis.

Elvis does a Calvin Klein ad, and as the photographer, you try to stay professional.

Day 30: Hair pulling - Elvis in his reading glasses.

Elvis examines your pussy and gets a little carried away.

Day 31: Aftercare - 70s Elvis.

Elvis feels bad whenever he's rough with you, and afterwards becomes the cutest, fluffiest guy ever.

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine

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dedalvs · 3 months ago

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NBA Realignment Proposal

This is Tumblr—a place where you can be who and what you wish to be. Today I take advantage of that to bring to you an idea that I think will solve a couple of dire problems the National Basketball Association (an American professional sporting association for basketball) has been struggling with in recent years. The problems are two-fold:

(1) Division championships are meaningless. In the old days if you won your division, you earned a top seed. When there were two division, the division winner with the best record got the 1 seed, and the other division winner the 2. It didn't matter if there was a second (or even third) place team that had a better record: winning your division meant you earned a top seed. A good example is the 1991-92 season, where the Chicago Bulls (67-15) earned the top seed, but the 51-31 Boston Celtics earned the second seed as winners of the Atlantic Division, despite the fact that the Cleveland Cavaliers had a much better record at 57-25. Winning the division was incredibly important. Now teams are seeded by record throughout the conference. Division titles mean nothing.

(2) Super teams. Since divisions are meaningless but winning chamiponships is still the most important thing in the NBA, successful players go to teams that can pay the most money. The ones that have the most money are the teams that are most successful. With only two conferences, this usually results in two teams—one in the east, one in the west—being stacked. Players can either join that team or try to form another super team to rival them. And the ones that can rival them are other historically successful teams. All in all, it's a lack of parity, and the same teams winning every single time.

Now, it is assumed, amongst fans and sportswriters, that the league will eventually expand to Seattle, regaining their former Supersonics, and Las Vegas—the latter perhaps when LeBron James retires (he's expressed interest in being an owner for a team in Las Vegas in future). If that comes to pass (and no other teams change locations), I propose a radical realignment of the divisions, and concomitant playoff changes. These changes were inspired by the changes the NHL made in recent years. They had six divisions, like the NBA has now, but then when they expanded, went backward, to four divisions, and the results have been impressive.

If you need to refresh yourselves of the current alignment, you can do so here. Now here's the realignment I propose:

These are the four divisions the NBA had before expanding to six. Most of the membership is the same, but I'll note the discrepancies. First, the most easterly western conference team, the Memphis Grizzlies, has been moved to the east (I always found it absurd that a team in a state one state away from the Atlantic Ocean was in the western conference). The Toronto Raptors and Charlotte Hornets have been swapped, which makes geographic sense, and the Atlanta Hawks have been returned to the Central.

This gives us four divisions with eight teams each. Currently, ten teams from each conference go to the playoffs—kind of. Four teams in each conference are forced into a mini-tournament called the play-in. For this play-in, the 7th place team hosts the 8th place team and the 9th place team hosts the 10th place team in a one game playoff. The winner of the first game becomes the real 7th seed. The loser of the first game plays the winner of the second. The winner of that game becomes the real 8th seed. Then the playoffs proceed as they always have. Very strange.

I propose something radically different. Same number of playoff teams—even the same number of play-in teams—but it's all done inside the division:

Each division has its own playoff. The 4th and 5th place teams play each other for the right to take on the top place team in the division in the first round of the divisional series. Then the 2nd place team hosts the 3rd place team in the division. The winners of each series face off, the winner being crowned the ultimate division champion. Then the western and eastern conference division champions face off, resulting in conference champions, who face off in the finals. The bracket looks like this:

This means that one team from every division will always make it to the semifinals. Division championships are suddenly very important, and there's incentive for good players to try their luck on teams in different divisions if they can't make it in the division they're in. It takes two very large pools (the conferences) and separates them into four smaller pools. It will also ensure you get some nice, exciting playoff matchups in the early going, because every matchup is all but guaranteed to be a rivalry, as the matchups are always interdivision matchups.

For the curious, if this had happened for last season, it would've looked like this (less the two expansion teams):

Same exact playoff teams! And the first matchups would've looked like this:

Some of the matchups are the same, but we get some good ones earlier. Mavs-Pelicans would've been a lot spicier than Thunder-Pelicans. In general, we've got a lot better shot at getting better matchups earlier on, and good matchups at each stage. This is the NBA I want to see!

Thank you for coming to the Dothraki guy's Tumblr account.

#nba #nba basketball #nba realignment #realignment #basketball #nhl

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jhoneybees · 5 months ago

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70s smut 🙏🏼

Ooo 70s smut! Now I got two requests for this so hopefully this will be alright for both of them, thank you for requesting :)

Honestly, might be my new favourite fic that I have written🥺

Soulmates.

Characters: Late 70s!Elvis X Reader

Warnings/triggers: Third person pov, use of Y/n, Smut hehehe, fingering, p in v, size kink, swearing(one word), mentions of God and heaven, sweet love making *sniff*🥺, fairy tale beliefs(No one can change my mind, I believe in them☝️)

Tags: @elvisalltheway101 @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a (if you want to be added to my taglist for my fics, feel free to comment!)

Enjoy my lovelies!

_____________________________________________

Elvis just feels so lonely.

Lonely and tired of doing two shows every damn day of the week, lonely and sad from the aches and pains he has all over his body and lonely of not having someone that has a similar heart like his.

He wishes that he could have someone to hold him and love him for who he is.

He wishes to maybe meet his soulmate…if they are real, he thinks to himself.

_____________________________________________

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Glancing up from the bible in his hand, Elvis stares at the front door of his hotel suite.

Closing his eyes as he sighs, he tosses the bed covers aside. Grunting as he stands himself up by using the nightstand for balance he makes his way to the door. Swinging it open with a bit of force, he groans seeing Jerry and Charlie. “What do ya want?” he asks rudely whilst bringing a hand up to rub his face.

“We brought someone, Boss.” Jerry answers with a nervous look on his face.

Elvis groans again and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why?” his tone, low.

Charlie opens his mouth. “Well we’ve noticed you’ve been-”

“Get to the point.”

“Because we’re worried, Boss.” Jerry cuts in.

The thing is about Jerry and Charlie bringing someone to Elvis, they are both genuinely worried about him, he isn’t just their boss but their friend and not only did they find a random person but a young woman who’s been a fan of his ever since his ‘GI Blues’ days. They know that he feels the most comfortable around women because of their soothing nature but something about this girl they’ve met, they think she’s the perfect match for someone like Elvis.

Elvis lifts his head and looks between the two men, staying quiet with only a slight huff.

“You’re not yourself.” Jerry finishes making Elvis keep his stare on him.

“Where are they?” he asks with a sigh, rubbing his forehead.

Watching as both Jerry and Charlie step to one side, Elvis blinks surprised seeing a pretty girl step forward giving him a shy smile.

“Boss, this is Y/n, Y/n this is Elvis.” Jerry smiles.

“Hi…”

“...Hi” he shakes her hand, hearing the slightest gasp leave her lips and his heart skipping a beat.

“You two have fun.” Charlie says before following Jerry down the hallway, leaving the two alone.

His eyes scan her up and down, slowly. Watching her as she turns her head back to look at him.

Elvis doesn’t know what it is about her but she’s fascinating him.

“...Wanna come in?”

_____________________________________________

Courteously, Y/n sits herself down on his couch. She quietly looks up at him as he switches the room’s light on and walks out for a while before coming back with sunglasses on, giving her a small smile.

Making his way over to sit down near her with a soft grunt.

“They’re worried ‘bout me, huh?” He jokes and chuckles about the men who brought her up to his suite, earning a sweet laugh.

“So uh…yer from Vegas?” he asks after a bit of silence fills the room, absentmindedly wiping his finger under his nose and looking over at the woman. Getting a glimpse of her cheeks growing pink.

“No…” She breathes out with a quiet laugh and fidgets with the hem of her skirt.

“I-I’m from Memphis, just…um… staying here to see some of your shows…” Her words trailing off to almost a whisper.

“You’re a fan?” his voice, surprisingly soft.

She lifts her gaze and nods shyly. “U-Uh big fan.”

Her heart skips a beat at his soft laugh. “Well ‘s nice ta finally meet ya.”

He smiles and she smiles back.

“How long have ya been a fan for?” he asks, to which she shakes her head.

“Oh, ever since GI blues came out…” looking back down at her lap with a shy grin, oblivious to Elvis’ eyes trailing up her legs.

“Do ya…have a favourite song?”

“Don’t really have a favourite…I-I like them all…I enjoy the country, bluesy sort of songs the most...”

Y/n purses her lips and she looks over at Elvis, seeing him nod. “I like ‘em too, my favourite kind of songs.”

The more they talk, the more deep the conversation gets. The two of them don’t know how but they just click straight away and it seems like cupid has shot two arrows into both of their hearts.

The way her eyes soften at Elvis’ smile and the way Elvis’ mouth grows dry from her angelic laugh would show everyone in the whole of Las Vegas that they’ve already fallen deeply in love. It couldn’t possibly be attraction at this point because they have shared their life stories and struggles with each other.

The woman had only met Elvis 4 hours ago.

“C’mere baby, want ya near.” Elvis says and the girl happily obliges.

Quietly shuffling to where he sits, she slides right in next to him as he holds his arm over the back of the couch. She lifts her eyes to look at him, seeing how gorgeous he is up close, with the way his pores decorate his face so beautifully and his cute nose being the perfect shape to bring all his facial features together, her heart beats wickedly at the thought of how soft his lips would feel against hers.

“Somethin’ on my face?” he asks with a chuckle.

Y/n looks into his blue eyes through his sunglasses, her cheeks growing pinker as she nervously laughs. “N-not at all, jus’...”

He removes his shades.

She doesn't know what to say when he’s admiring her like that, with his lashes framing his sultry eyes as they admire her face lovingly and the corner of his mouth curls up.

It’s as if he’s an archaeologist who’s discovered the most dazzling thing he has ever seen in his life.

“...E-Elvis” her voice, soft.

He lifts his gaze and when he locks eyes with her, they both feel their souls are drifting out from one’s parted lips into the other.

They’re so close, combined scents of floral and luxury fill their nostrils. The both of them watch each other’s eyes carefully.

“Y/n…can I…kiss you?”

Just then as the woman gives her consent, they melt at the slightest touch, lips pressing so gently against each other like they’re afraid to hurt the other person. They both close their eyes and Elvis leans himself forward with his other hand moving to rest on the side of her waist with Y/n automatically climbing to straddle his lap.

Cupping his face with her delicate hands, warm tingles shiver up her spine and as Elvis pushes his tongue inside of her mouth, she pushes herself more onto him, wanting to feel every single little touch and she melts even more from his large, firm hands grazing up her thighs going under her minidress. Her breath grows shaky and shallow as he squeezes her ass through her panties.

“Elvis…” She whispers as he pulls away, moving her hands down to rub his chest, the nice silk material under her palms.

“Let’s…Let’s go ta m-my bedroom.” he breathes and she nods willingly.

Pulling on his hand to help him stand up, Y/n’s quick to grab his sunglasses he left discarded on the couch next to him, earning a gentle smile from him. “Thank you, baby.” She smiles back, walking with him through the archway to go into his bedroom, She watches as he switches the light on on the wall.

Her heart pounds in her chest as he pulls her in by the waist and crashes his lips onto hers again with more passion. Sighing contentedly as her arms go to wrap around his neck, following his steps until the back of her calves hit the foot of the bed and she falls backwards, taking Elvis with her making him grunt loudly at the impact and the girl winces at his sunglasses hitting her nose.

“Oh I-I’m sorry, honey.” Elvis worryingly cups her cheek.

Y/n shakes her head and her chest vibrates against his as she laughs. “It’s okay.”

Her hand moves to slide his sunglasses off. “Better if we get these out of the way.” she giggles and pecks his lips. Her smile falters a little when he grimaces and the realisation hits. “O-Oh you want the light turned off, don’t you?”

“No-no ‘s a’right, hon-”

“It’s okay, we can turn it off, I don’t mind.” She reassures quietly and smiles again as his eyes soften and he rolls off from on top of her body.

Y/n pads back to the bed after turning the lights off and steps out of her heels as she looks over the man’s figure, he’s moved to rest his back against the headboard with only the nightlife of Las Vegas shining through the window showing his face. A face that has guilt written all over.

She waltzes over to crawl onto the mattress and sit on his lap again. She doesn't know how she knows what he’s thinking but she just does. “Wouldn’t want ya getting sore eyes…” observing his facial expression carefully.

“Thank you…” he mumbles gently, she can’t help but beam at his sudden gentle demeanour.

“You’re welcome… " Her fingers going up to caress his cheek, a strange urge overcomes her as both of their lips are a few millimetres away. Something she feels like she needs to say. “...It’s the least I can do to…ease the pain.” before she envelops Elvis’ lips in a delicate kiss.

This time it’s his turn to melt.

Elvis moans into her mouth, she starts to roll her hips over his strained pyjama pants and his eyebrows furrow at the mind spinning feeling of her clothed sex rubbing against his and she grazes her fingers up to unbutton his shirt.

He pulls away and breathes hard, careful to stop her hands. “H-Honey…” A wave of insecurity flowing through his brain.

The woman observes his eyes and leans in to kiss him and brush the tips of her fingers over his chest hair. “I know…” She continues to finish undoing his shirt.

Kissing his ear and cheek. “You’re gorgeous.”

Her heart feels like it’s as light as a feather as her hand runs through his soft hair, she sighs through her nose as her lips press onto his once again, body moving from instinct when his palms glide back to her ass. Squeezing it so gently that it sends chills to her pussy, making it throb.

Elvis’ groan rumbles in his throat, sliding his large hand down as she lifts her hips to press her mouth more onto his, his head tips back at the position and he can feel the warmth coming from the place in between her legs.

Hooking his index into her panties and pulling it to the side, he uses his middle finger to drag up her wet slit, smirking against her hearing a soft moan.

His cock twitches at how she mewls from him touching her sensitive clit. He’s massaging it and taking control of her body, her hips rock against his palm.

“God, Elvis…” She lets out, gasping at how his skilled hand slides down to her dripping heat. Her eyes fluttering at his finger swirls around the entrance like a predator circles their prey.

She breathes out a brief smile at his words. “Seems like I know all the tricks, hm?”

A breathy moan rolls off her tongue as he pushes his middle finger inside, pumping it in and out at a steady slow pace. “Ta make ya come undone, so easily.” his voice, deep and raspy. She doesn’t know how he does it so effortlessly. Bringing all these noises she didn’t know she could make out of her from just using one finger.

“Please…” Y/n whispers. She's got no idea why She’s saying please, her mind is so overwhelmed by how he curls his finger, rubbing it against the ridges of her walls.

It’s making her have such an awakening experience and it’s not her first but her gut is telling her this time is different. Very different.

“So wet…” he growls, placing a kiss on her throat as she throws her head back.

“So tight.” dragging his finger out and along her bundle of nerves, he rubs big and slow circles on her hot button.

Lulling her head to look down at Elvis, seeing his eyes shine with passion. “Panties off f’me?”

She whimpers and nods obediently. Moving off of his lap to slip her panties off and toss them off the bed as she lays flat on her back with her legs spread, waiting as Elvis slides his pants off to reveal his hard, bouncing, weeping, red at the tip cock.

Her mouth waters at the thought of how good he would feel so deep inside of her.

“C-Can yer ‘elp, baby?” Elvis shyly asks, snapping her out of her thoughts. She helps him move to kneel between her legs.

“You’re so big…” she utters. Craning her neck up to look down in the middle of both of their bodies to see his dick swinging towards her pussy.

Elvis grins widely, trailing his eyes down her goddess looking figure. “And you’re so beautiful.” guiding the head of his cock to her hole, he inches himself in and the tightness already makes his eyes roll back.

“F*ck…” Y/n sighs.

He gets down onto his forearms, caging her frame underneath him protectively. Shivers slithering up his spine at the feeling of his belly pressing heavily on her stomach. Pushing more of himself inside little by little, groaning out loudly as her walls clench around him and her pornagraphic moans fill his ears.

Keeping his stare fixed onto Y/n’s pretty angelic face and a long breath squeezes out of his throat when he finally fits the rest of his cock in.

Suddenly something clicks.

“Elvis…I…”

“Y-You’re my soulmate.”

They stare into each other’s eyes, flicking from one to the other.

She cups Elvis’ cheeks gently, panting quietly as she thinks and admires his handsome face.

Ever since they were little, they didn’t think those fairy tales were real talking about how they would meet their soulmate one day and right at this moment, they have been proved wrong. So wrong.

“...H-hold on tight.”

Elvis starts to thrust into her slowly. Picking up pace as time goes by and every single second it feels like home, feels like they’re meant for each other.

They’ve found their true love, their love at first sight, their ride and die, their partner in crime, their goddamn soulmate and they have the strongest urge to say those three words that every couple says but something is telling them to keep going before they say it.

They grab onto one another, wanting to feel the closest they could possibly be and take in the sensations, the magic, the love, the truth as they fly up into the clouds. Sucking in an unknown magical essense that falls into the atmosphere and Elvis works the both of them closer and closer and closer and closer to heaven.

Crying out in unison. “I love you.”

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis #i love him #70s elvis #elvis fandom #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction

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from-memphis-with-love · 9 days ago

Text

Songbird - Chapter 12 - Return to Sender

Summary: After months of rebuilding her life in Chicago, Valerie is suddenly thrust back into the Elvis vortex when she's summoned for a deposition in his divorce proceedings.

Word count: ~7,800 You can also read this on AO3 here!

Four months. That's how long I'd managed to stay away from anything Elvis-related. Four months of building a new life, of focusing on my students at the community center, of pretending my heart didn't skip every time I heard one of his songs on the radio.

I was just starting to get my life back on track and then the universe decided to go and fuck it all up.

It started innocently enough. I was walking home from work, arms full of sheet music and thinking about what to wear on my date with Richard - a perfectly nice, perfectly normal accountant who'd never worn a big ass TCB ring in his life - when I heard someone behind me.

"Excuse me? Miss Pedretti?"

My heart did that stupid little skip it always did when strangers knew my name. These days, that usually meant one thing. I turned slowly, already preparing my "no comment about Elvis" face. But instead of a reporter, I found myself facing a teenage girl with braces and hope in her eyes.

"Could I... could I maybe get your autograph?"

I stared at her. "My autograph?"

She nodded eagerly, holding out a piece of paper. "I saw you perform at Murphy's last week. You sang 'At Last' and it was just... wow. My friends don't believe I found you walking down the street!"

For a moment, I couldn't speak. Someone wanting my autograph. For my singing. Not because I was "that girl who almost married Elvis" or "the Chicago singer who broke up the Presleys." It was almost comical.

"S-sure," I managed, juggling my sheet music to sign her paper. "What's your name?"

"Jenny. I'm learning to sing too. My teacher says I've got potential, but..." She bit her lip. "Well, you know how it is."

I did know. Standing there on a Chicago street corner in March, I remembered being her age, full of dreams and doubt in equal measure. Before Vegas. Before Elvis. Before everything got complicated.

"Keep at it," I told her, handing back the paper. "And come see me at Murphy's again. I'll save you a seat up front."

She beamed like I'd just handed her the moon. As I watched her practically skip away, I couldn't help smiling. Maybe I was finally becoming my own person again.

That feeling lasted exactly three hours.

I was getting ready for my date, trying to decide if the red dress was too much for a simple dinner, when a small avalanche of memories crashed down from my closet shelf. Literally. A jewelry box I'd shoved up there months ago chose that exact moment to commit suicide, spilling its contents across my bedroom closet like broken promises.

And there it was. The little guitar charm he'd given me one night in Vegas, after I'd told him about wanting to learn how to play. Elvis had disappeared for an hour, sending the Memphis Mafia into a panic, only to return with this tiny silver pendant. "Now you got your own li’l six-string," he'd said, fastening it around my neck. "Even if it's just for show."

I picked it up, the silver warm against my palm like it remembered my skin. Almost four months since I'd walked out of Graceland, and still these little pieces of him kept surfacing. Like shells washing up on a beach long after the tide's gone out.

The date with Richard was... nice. That's the thing about nice. It's comfortable, predictable, safe. He took me to a little place off Michigan Avenue, held doors open, laughed at all my jokes. His tie was perfectly straight and his conversation was perfectly pleasant. The kind of man my mother would have loved. The kind of man who'd never break furniture when he was angry or pop pills to keep his demons at bay.

"So then the client says, 'But I thought depreciation was just a feeling!'" Richard chuckled into his wine glass.

I forced a smile, pushing my spaghetti around my plate. The guitar charm felt heavy in my purse, where I'd stuffed it after being unable to just leave it on the floor. Like carrying around a piece of lit dynamite.

"Valerie?" Richard's voice pulled me back. "You okay? You seem a million miles away."

"Sorry." I took a sip of water. "Just thinking about tomorrow's lessons. I've got a student who--"

"Oh God." His eyes had fixed on something over my shoulder. "Is that what I think it is?"

I turned. The restaurant's small TV was showing footage I knew too well - Elvis outside Graceland, making his divorce announcement. They'd been replaying it for months now, but this was different. This was new footage.

"Sources say the divorce proceedings have hit a snag," the announcer's voice carried across the quiet restaurant. "Priscilla Presley's lawyers are alleging that the relationship with Chicago singer Valerie Pedretti began before the separation..."

The marinara sauce suddenly looked too much like blood.

"That's you, isn't it?" Richard was staring at me like he'd never seen me before. "I mean, I knew you'd been in Vegas, but I didn't realize... That's really you they're talking about?"

"I should go." I stood up so fast my napkin floated to the floor like a surrender flag. "I'm not feeling well."

"Wait, let me drive you--"

"No." I was already grabbing my purse, already moving. "Thanks for dinner. It was... nice."

The wind hit me like a slap as I burst out of the restaurant. Even after the worst of winter is gone, the Chicago cold takes no prisoners, but I barely felt it. All I could think about was Elvis' face on that TV screen - tired, drawn, but still beautiful enough to stop traffic. Still able to make my heart do that stupid little dance even through a television screen. God damn him.

I walked home in a daze, my heels clicking against the sidewalk in rhythm with my racing thoughts. Three blocks from my apartment, I realized I was humming "Blue Christmas."

"Fucking hell," I muttered, forcing myself to stop.

My apartment felt emptier than usual when I finally made it home. The silence pressed in like a physical thing, broken only by the distant sound of the El and Mrs. Kowalski's cats fighting next door. I kicked off my heels, poured myself a generous glass of orange juice, flopped down on the couch, and tried very hard not to think about anything at all.

The knock came just as I was pouring a second glass.

"Delivery for Valerie Pedretti?" The courier looked about twelve and thoroughly unimpressed by having to work this late.

I signed for the envelope, my stomach already sinking. Legal papers always feel different than regular mail - heavier, somehow. Like they know they're carrying bad news.

Sure enough, the letterhead screamed trouble: HENDERSON, WRIGHT & ASSOCIATES, ATTORNEYS AT LAW - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.

"Miss Pedretti," the letter began, "You are hereby summoned to appear for a deposition in the matter of Presley vs. Presley..."

The words swam on the page. Deposition. Testimony. Under oath. Required to appear. April 15th - three weeks away in Los Angeles. The papers even included a first-class plane ticket. Priscilla’s touch, no doubt. Class all the way, that one. Making sure she’d look magnanimous even against a homewrecker like me.

But first, according to the very detailed instructions, it was suggested I meet with Elvis' attorney in Memphis to "prepare for deposition." Like our relationship was something that could be reduced to sworn statements and legal documents. Like anyone could prepare me for facing Priscilla across a conference table while describing exactly how and when I'd fallen in love with her husband.

Fuuuuck.

I set the papers down and walked to my window. Chicago spread out below, a maze of lights and shadows. Somewhere out there, Richard was probably still sitting in that restaurant, trying to process how his nice, normal date had turned into a tabloid story. Meanwhile, in Memphis...

The phone rang, making me jump. I already knew who it would be.

"Jesus Christ, how fast does news travel?" I barked without preamble.

"Faster than Elvis after three cups of coffee." Marty Lacker’s voice was warm, familiar, despite not hearing him for months. "You get the papers?"

"Just now." I pressed my forehead against the cool glass. "How bad is it?"

"Well, Crazy’s taking it hard. Been in his room for four days straight, won't talk to nobody except Billy." A pause. "He's clean though. Almost two months now."

My traitorous heart did that stupid little dance again. "Marty..."

"Just thought you should know." His voice softened. "You doing okay?"

"Sure." I watched a couple hurry past below, huddled together against the wind. "I'm great. Just got summoned to testify about the most famous man in music. Probably gonna have to face his wife in a room full of lawyers. Might have to detail every moment of our relationship while the press has a field day. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Val–"

"I gotta go." I hung up before he could say anything else.

I called the community center first. "Family emergency," I told them, which wasn't exactly a lie. Then I called Deena.

"Three weeks?" She whistled low. "That's a lot of time to think about seeing him again."

"I'm not gonna see him." That was a lie. I started throwing clothes into a suitcase - different clothes this time. Nothing he'd bought me, nothing he'd seen me in. "I'm going to Memphis to meet with his lawyer, prepare for the deposition, and then to LA for the… the actual thing. That's it."

"Uh huh." I could hear her smirking through the phone. "And if you just happen to run into him?"

"I won't." But even as I said it, my hand brushed against that damn guitar charm I still hadn't put away. "Graceland's huge. And anyway, Marty says he's practically living in his room these days. I’m not going upstairs." Another lie.

"Marty says?" Now she was definitely smirking. "Thought you weren't talking to any of them anymore."

"What do you even wear to a deposition prep?" I changed the subject, holding up dresses like shields. "Something that says 'Yes, I slept with the man but I'm still a respectable witness'?"

"Honey," Deena laughed, "I don't think they make clothes for that."

The flight to Memphis felt endless. Maybe because this time I knew what was waiting. No more sneaking in through back doors or hiding from photographers. This time I had actual business. Official paperwork and everything.

Ed Hookstratten's office was exactly what you'd expect from Elvis' longtime attorney and friend. Wood-paneled walls, leather club chairs, and enough tchotchkes to stock a small museum. The man himself was tall, distinguished-looking, with kind eyes behind thick black-rimmed glasses that had probably seen every kind of trouble Elvis could get into.

"Miss Pedretti." He stood as his secretary showed me in. "Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat."

I sat, smoothing my skirt nervously. I'd finally settled on a navy blue suit that made me look older than my years. Professional. Trustworthy. Demure. The kind of gal you'd believe under oath.

"Now then." He settled behind his desk, pulling out a thick folder. "Let's talk about what to expect in Los Angeles. Priscilla's lawyers are... aggressive. They're going to try to paint your relationship with Mr. Presley as something tawdry. Something that began before the separation."

"But it didn't," I started, but he held up a hand.

"I know that. Mr. Presley has been very clear about the timeline. But they're going to try to twist things. They'll ask about Vegas, about when you first met him. They'll want details about every interaction, every moment alone. They'll try to make you nervous, make you slip up."

"Do I..." I swallowed hard. "Do I have to talk about everything? Every detail?"

"Only what's relevant to establishing the timeline." Ed's eyes were kind. "But yes, you'll need to be specific about when certain... developments in your relationship occurred."

My cheeks burned. Great. I'd have to discuss my sex life with Elvis in front of his wife and a room full of lawyers. While under oath.

"There's something else." Ed leaned forward slightly. "Mr. Presley has requested to sit in on our preparation sessions."

The world tilted sideways. "What?"

"He feels it's important. To show support." Ed's voice was carefully neutral. "Of course, if you're not comfortable..."

"When?" The word came out embarrassingly breathy.

"He's actually waiting in the conference room now."

My heart stopped, then started again double-time. "Now?"

"Only if you're ready." Ed stood. "We can do this another day if you prefer."

I thought about it, really thought about it. I could walk out right now. Get back on a plane to Chicago. Let Elvis fight his own battles for once. Who cares if they held me in contempt of court?

But then I remembered his face on that TV screen. Remembered Marty saying he was clean. Two months clean. Remembered how my heart did those stupid little traitorous flips every time someone uttered his name.

"Okay." I blurted out before I could regret it, barely standing on shaking legs. "Let's do this."

Ed led me down a hallway that felt miles long. Each step brought me closer to a moment I'd both dreaded and longed for. Almost four months of radio silence, and now...

The conference room door opened.

The first thing that hit me was his cologne - that same spicy scent that used to linger on my skin. Then I saw him, and my knees nearly gave out.

He was leaning against the conference table in a charcoal suit that had to be new - the cut was perfect, highlighting shoulders that seemed broader than I remembered. The jacket was open, revealing a crisp white shirt and a thin black paisley scarf. His hair was different too - styled but not overdone, letting those natural waves I used to love running my fingers through show. But it was his face that stopped my heart. Clear eyes, sharp jawline, that intensity I remembered but this time without the pill-haze that used to soften his edges. He looked devastating. He looked amazing.

He looked every inch the nightmare I'd been trying to forget.

"Miss Pedretti." His voice was pure business, but I caught how his fingers tightened on the table edge. "Thank you for coming."

I croaked something that might have been "Of course" and sank into the chair Ed so graciously pulled out for me. As far from Elvis as possible, but still close enough to notice he'd lost weight - all of it muscle now. No more hint of puffiness from the pills. Just lean strength wrapped in expensive wool.

God damn him.

"Let's begin with the timeline," Ed said, spreading papers across the table. "Miss Pedretti, when exactly did you and Mr. Presley first meet?"

I focused on Ed, on my notes, on anything but the way Elvis's presence seemed to fill the room like smoke and suck the air right out of me. "July 1969. At the International Hotel in Vegas. I was there to audition for Frank Sinatra's show."

"And the nature of your relationship at such time?"

"Just... friendly." My voice caught as Elvis shifted, his ring catching the light. New rings, I noticed. Different from the ones he used to wear. "We didn't become... involved until much later."

"Be specific about dates," Ed pressed. "They'll want exact timing."

I could feel Elvis watching me, could practically taste the tension rolling off him. But his face remained carefully blank as I detailed our early encounters, our growing closeness, that first kiss. Professional. Detached. Like we were discussing someone else's life entirely.

Only his hands gave him away - those beautiful fingers drumming against his thigh in a rhythm I still heard in my dreams. A tell I'd learned to read months ago, back when I knew every mood, every gesture, every unspoken thing.

"And the first time you were intimate?"

My cheeks burned. In my peripheral vision, I saw Elvis go very still.

"September 3rd," I said quietly. "At my apartment. We... it was..."

"Just the date is fine," Ed cut in smoothly. "They'll want to establish it was well after the separation papers were signed."

I risked a glance at Elvis then. Bad idea. His eyes met mine for just a second, but it was enough. Enough to see he was remembering too; that night of dim lights and whispered promises, his hands on my skin, the way he'd looked at me like I was everything...

"Let's take a break," Ed suggested. "Coffee?"

I fled to the bathroom, needing space, needing air. In the mirror, my reflection looked exactly like I felt. Wrecked. My carefully applied lipstick was bitten away, my cheeks flushed, my eyes too bright. So much for trying to forget him. One look had undone everything.

When I returned to the conference room, Elvis had relocated to the far end of the table. His jacket was off now, shirt sleeves rolled up, and I had to stop myself from staring at his forearms. Had they always been that tanned? That strong? He was studying some papers intently, but the muscle jumping in his jaw told me he knew exactly when I walked in.

Ed's secretary had brought coffee - good coffee, not the burnt studio sludge I remembered from our late-night recording sessions. I wrapped my hands around the mug like a shield.

"Now then," Ed continued, "let's discuss the living arrangements. Priscilla's lawyers will likely focus on your time at Graceland."

"I had my own apartment," I said quickly. Maybe too quickly. "In East Memphis."

"That's good. They'll want to establish you weren't living at Graceland full-time." Ed made some notes. "Though they may ask about overnight stays."

Elvis's pen scratched against paper, the sound sharp in the quiet room. I forced myself to breathe normally, to ignore how his shirt pulled across his shoulders as he wrote. Had he been working out? He looked like he'd been working out.

"There were... some nights," I admitted. "But always discreet. Always after..."

"After Priscilla had already gone back to California," Elvis finished. His voice was controlled, professional, but something in the way he said her name made my stomach clench. “Where she’s lived for the past - oh, two or three years.”

"Exactly." Ed nodded. "Now, about the Christmas incident--"

"Do we have to get into that?" The words burst out before I could stop them. In my peripheral vision, I saw Elvis' head snap up.

"They'll ask about it." Ed's voice was gentle. "It was widely reported that you left Memphis rather... abruptly. Right before Priscilla was expected to return."

"Because I thought..." I stopped, swallowed hard. "I was under the impression that..."

"That I was taking her back." Elvis's voice was very quiet. When I dared to look at him, his eyes were fixed on his coffee cup. "But I wasn't. I was trying to tell her in person about filing the papers. Trying to do the right thing. For once."

The right thing. Like that made up for the months of silence after. Like that explained why he hadn't come after me, hadn't called, hadn't...

"Miss Pedretti?" Ed's voice pulled me back. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." Suddenly, my stomach hurt. I took a sip of coffee, nearly burning my tongue. "What else do they need to know?"

The questions continued - endless, specific, humiliating. Yes, I knew he was married when we met. No, nothing happened until after Vegas. Yes, I was aware of his... history with other women. No, I never expected or received any financial support.

Through it all, Elvis sat like a statue, only his hands betraying him. They kept moving - adjusting his tie, running through his hair, drumming that maddening rhythm on the table. Once, he got up to pace by the window, and the sunlight caught him just right. The sight of him outlined against the reddening sky, strong and clear-eyed and more beautiful than ever, nearly undid me completely.

"I think that covers the major points," Ed said finally. "We'll meet again tomorrow to go over–"

"Actually," Elvis cut in. He glanced at me for just a second. "I’ve got some studio time booked."

My heart squeezed. I pictured us being together in the recording booth, making beautiful harmonies.

"Day after tomorrow then," Ed said. "Same time?"

I nodded, already gathering my things, needing to escape before I did something stupid like cry. Or beg him to explain that agonizing silence. Or ask him if he still thought about that night in the rain, when he'd...

"Valerie."

I froze at the door, his voice hitting me like a physical touch.

"Thank you," he said softly. "For doing this. For... everything."

I didn't turn around. Couldn't. "Sure. Whatever helps."

The hallway felt miles long as I walked away, my heels clicking against marble in rhythm with my hammering heart. Behind me, I could have sworn I heard him say something else, but I kept walking. Some doors, once closed, should probably stay that way. Even if they held everything I ever wanted on the other side.

The Memphis humidity hit me like a wet blanket as I left Ed's office. March here felt like June anywhere else - the air thick with the heft of memories I'd been trying to outrun. I'd forgotten how this city got under your skin, how it made everything feel more intense somehow.

I'd booked a room at the Peabody this time, not trusting myself anywhere closer to Graceland. The hotel was exactly as grand as I remembered - all marble floors and crystal chandeliers, those famous ducks still doing their daily parade through the lobby. But it felt different now. I felt different.

"Messages for you, Miss Pedretti," the desk clerk said as I passed. Three pink slips, all from the same person.

Sophie: "Heard you were in town. Dinner?"

Sophie: "Don't you dare hide in that fancy hotel room."

Sophie: "Getting takeout from Rendezvous. Bringing the crew. Be there at 7. No arguments."

I smiled despite myself. Trust Sophie to know exactly what I needed.

She showed up right on time with Mary, Ginger, and Donna, their arms full of ribs and coleslaw, faces full of questions they were too polite to ask. At least at first.

"So," Ginger said finally, watching me pick at my food. "How'd it go?"

"Oh, you know." I took a long sip of orange soda. "Just had to discuss my sex life with Elvis in front of his lawyer while the man himself sat there looking like every fantasy I've ever had, only better. No big deal."

Mary nearly choked on her ribs. "Better?"

"God, Mary." I flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. "He's… different. Like someone turned up all his colors or something. And that suit..." I groaned. "That damn suit should be illegal in at least forty states."

"You know he’s been living at the studio,” Sophie added.

My heart did that stupid little flip it always did when anyone mentioned what he was up to.

"He looks happy," I said finally. "Healthy. Like he's finally..."

"Finally what?"

"Himself." I sat up, reaching for a rib. I was happy for him, truly. But so very sad for myself. "And I'm stupid for even noticing. For even caring. He had four months to call, to explain about Christmas, to... to anything. But he didn't."

Sophie was quiet for a long moment. "Maybe he couldn't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just... there's things you don't know. About after you left." She picked up a napkin, started shredding it carefully. "He was bad, Val. Real bad. The Colonel had to cancel so many meetings. Jerry says they nearly lost him a couple times."

The coleslaw turned sour in my stomach. "What?"

"Then one day, about two months ago, he just... stopped. Everything. Pills, booze, all of it. Started getting real serious about things." She looked at me carefully. It hadn’t occurred to me that she’d even known about the pulls, much less discuss them openly. How much of a cocoon was I living in?

"Don't." I stood up, needing to move. "Don't try to make this into something it's not. He's getting divorced because Priscilla wants to live in California. Because their marriage has been over for years. It has nothing to do with..."

"With the fact that he's recording your favorite songs?" Donna’s voice was gentle. "The ones you used to sing together late at night? Don’t think we weren’t listening."

I stared out the window. Far ahead I could see Beale street spread out like a carpet of lights, and somewhere out there, Elvis was in his studio, singing songs he loved. Songs I used to sing. My throat felt tight.

"I can't," I whispered. "I can't do this again. Can't let myself hope that maybe this time..."

"Then don't." Sophie stood, came to stand beside me in her motherly way. "Just... be here. Do what you came to do. And maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe this time you'll both be ready for it."

The whiskey burned going down. I never really drank but tonight felt like a whiskey kind of night. The first glass had made my hands stop shaking. The second was just starting to blur the edges when the phone rang.

I stared at it, watching it rattle against the nightstand like it was trying to escape. I wasn’t expecting a call, but I knew. The same way I always knew when it came to him.

"Hello?" My voice came out steady. Thank God for Jack Daniel's.

Silence. Just breathing. Then: "This is harder than I thought it would be."

My heart seized. His voice was different. Rougher, like he'd been in the studio all day. Or like maybe he'd been doing a lot of thinking too.

"Don't." I took another sip, letting the burn ground me. "Just... don't."

"Valley—"

"I can't do this with you right now." My fingers tightened on the glass. I pressed it to my forehead and sighed. "Tomorrow's gonna be hard enough without..."

"I know." He sounded tired. Human. That was always the most dangerous version of him. "Just wanted to hear your voice."

"Well, you heard it." The words came out sharper than I meant them to. Or maybe exactly as sharp as I meant them to. "Goodnight, Elvis."

"Wait—"

I hung up. My hands were shaking again.

The phone rang again immediately. I let it ring five times before unplugging it.

Later that night, my reflection stared back at me from the bathroom mirror - cheeks flushed from whiskey and something else, eyes too bright. Looking at myself, I could almost understand what he'd seen in me. Almost.

I finished my drink in one swallow and didn't let myself pour another. Tomorrow would be brutal enough without a hangover.

Morning hit me like a fever dream - all golden light and sticky heat, the kind of day that makes promises it can't keep. I spent too long getting ready, trying on and discarding outfits like armor. Finally settled on a cream-colored dress that made my skin glow and my dark hair look somehow deliberate instead of wild. Professional enough for a lawyer's office, but also...

"Stop it," I told my reflection. "Just stop."

Ed's secretary showed me into the conference room first this time. I was early, needing to compose myself before...

"Morning."

I froze. Elvis was already there, leaning against the window frame in a light gray silk shirt that made his eyes look impossibly blue. No scarf today, just a few open buttons that showed the gold chain I remembered all too well. He looked like he hadn't slept. Join the club.

"You're early," I managed, proud of how steady my voice sounded.

"Couldn't sleep." His eyes met mine in the window's reflection.

Last night's phone call hung between us like smoke. I busied myself with my notes, trying not to notice how the morning light caught his profile, how his hands kept moving restlessly, how he seemed to take up all the oxygen in the room just by existing.

"About that–" he started.

"Don't." I gripped my pen tighter. "Please."

"Good morning!" Ed swept in, saving me from whatever Elvis had been about to say. "Shall we begin? We need to discuss the more... delicate aspects of the timeline today." I thanked my lucky stars that Colonel Parker had chosen to sit in the waiting room today.

Even with that small consolation, my stomach still dropped. The delicate aspects. Like how exactly we'd gone from stolen kisses to shared beds. Like when exactly I'd gone from being his backup singer to his...

"Actually," Elvis' voice was rough, "maybe I should step out for this part."

"No." The word surprised us both. "Stay. They're going to ask about all of it in LA anyway. Might as well..." I swallowed hard. "Might as well get it all out now."

His eyes met mine, dark with something that made my pulse jump. For a moment, I saw everything there - remembered heat, old promises, new regrets. Then he nodded once and took his seat.

"Very well," Ed opened his folder. "Let's discuss September third."

"September third." My voice sounded far away. "Elvis had finally come up to my apartment. We'd been... there had been moments before. Almost moments. But that night..."

I could feel Elvis's eyes on me, knew he was remembering too. The way he'd shown up at my apartment door, lean and hungry. How he'd stood there on my carpet, looking at me like a man who'd finally stopped running from something. From everything.

"Be specific about the timing," Ed pressed. "Priscilla's lawyers will want to establish--"

"It was late," I cut in. "After ten. We'd been recording all day, then I'd gone to dinner with some of the session singers. He came by after, said he wanted to talk about the arrangements we'd been working on. But..."

Elvis shifted in his chair. His knuckles were white where he gripped his pen.

"And then?"

God. How could I possibly describe it? The way the air had changed between us as he stood in my tiny living room. The easy conversation that had turned into something else entirely. How we'd gone from discussing music to... to everything.

"We..." I stopped, started again. "It wasn't planned. We were just talking, and then suddenly we weren't talking anymore, and..."

"I understand this is difficult," Ed said carefully, "but for legal purposes, we need to establish that nothing physical occurred before the separation papers were signed. Priscilla's lawyers will try to suggest otherwise."

"Nothing happened before the separation," I said firmly, though my voice shook slightly. "That night was the first time. And after... after that, we agreed it couldn't happen again. Not until Priscilla had gone back to California."

In my peripheral vision, I saw Elvis' hand tighten on his pen. He was staring straight ahead now, jaw clenched, but I could feel the tension radiating off him.

"And you maintained that agreement?" Ed asked.

"Yes." The word felt like glass in my throat. "Until she left. We both... we knew it had to be that way."

Ed made some notes. "And when the relationship resumed?"

"Approximately three weeks later." My voice was barely a whisper now. "After Priscilla had gone home to California. And I saw the papers in the drawer.. they were signed months before that.”

"Miss Ped–Valerie." Elvis's voice was strangled. When I dared to look at him, his face was tight with barely controlled emotion. "You don't have to-"

"Yes, I do." I turned back to Ed. "They're gonna ask all this in Los Angeles anyway, aren't they? About every detail, every moment?"

"They'll try," Ed admitted. "They'll want to establish a pattern of behavior. But you don't need to share anything... intimate. Just the timeline."

"September 23rd," I said quietly. "That's when we... when things changed. Well, we - you know - for the second time. And yes, I'm sure of the date. Yes, it was after she left. And no, we never..." I swallowed hard. "It was never about hurting anyone. We tried so hard not to..."

"I think that's sufficient," Ed said gently, closing his folder. "We'll take a break and--"

"No." Elvis stood abruptly, his chair scraping back. "We're done. All of it. She's not doing this anymore today."

"Elvis--" Ed started.

"I said we're done." His voice had that edge I remembered, the one that meant he was about to lose control of something. Of everything. "Give us a minute?"

Ed closed the door behind him, leaving us in a silence broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning. Elvis stood at the window, hands in his pockets, looking out at Memphis like he was seeing it for the first time.

"You didn't have to stop the prep," I said finally. "I can handle it."

"Can you?" He turned, and something in his face made my chest tight. Not the old dramatic Elvis - just a man who looked tired. "Because I'm not sure I can. Sitting here, listening to all of it laid out like... like it was just dates on a calendar."

"That's all they need," I said. "Just the timeline."

"Is it?" He leaned against the window frame. "Because it feels like they're trying to turn this into some cheap scandal."

"Wasn’t it?" The words came out before I could stop them. "The backup singer and the married star?"

"No." His voice was quiet but firm. "We were never that. You know we weren't."

I did know. That was the hell of it.

"I’m clean," he said suddenly. "Two months now."

"I heard." I studied my hands.

"Should've done it sooner. Should've..." He stopped, started again. "Should've done a lotta shit sooner."

The simplicity of that admission hit harder than any dramatic declaration could have. This was the Elvis I remembered - the real one, underneath all the showmanship and easy smiles. The one who could break your heart just by being honest.

"Why didn't you call?" I asked finally. "After Christmas, after... everything."

"Honestly?" He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. "I was a mess. Needed to get my head straight first. Figure out who I was without..." He gestured vaguely at himself, and I knew he meant without the pills, without the haze he'd lived in for so long.

We stood in silence for a moment, the weight of missed opportunities and wasted time settling between us like dust.

"We should get back to it," I said, gesturing toward the paperwork on the table. "Finish the prep."

Elvis nodded, straightening himself. Just like that, the mask slipped back into place. Professional. Distant. Like we hadn't just cracked open something we couldn't quite close again.

The next two weeks stretched like molasses. More prep sessions, more carefully worded statements, more moments of trying not to look at each other across conference tables. Memphis watched us like a soap opera, every coffee shop and beauty parlor buzzing with theories about why I was back in town.

"Ignore them," Sophie advised over sandwiches one afternoon. "They'll talk no matter what you do."

"Easy for you to say." I pushed my coleslaw around my plate. "You're not the one getting death stares at the grocery store."

"No, but I did see Mrs. Milton organizing another prayer circle for your soul." She grinned. "Though this time some of the younger girls told her to stuff it. Times are changing, even in Memphis."

The flight to LA loomed closer. I decided neither to use the tickets Priscilla so graciously provided nor to fly out with Elvis and the boys. Instead, Ed had arranged everything just for me - flight, hotel reservations, a car to meet me at LAX. The Colonel's influence, making sure everything looked respectable. Like I was a legitimate witness, not some little homewrecking hussy being dragged into court.

The night before we left, my phone rang.

"You packed?" Red's voice was gruff with concern.

"Almost." I stared at my open suitcase. "What do you even wear to get grilled by your... by Elvis' wife's lawyers?"

"Ex-wife," he corrected gently. "And wear whatever makes you feel strong. You're gonna need it."

He wasn't wrong. LAX hit like an uppercut - all sunshine and palm trees and reporters who somehow knew exactly which flight to watch for. The flashbulbs started before I even hit baggage claim.

"Miss Pedretti! How long were you and Elvis–"

"Is it true that–"

"What do you say to accusations–"

Ed's promised car materialized like magic, whisking me away to a hotel that probably cost more than my rent. The suite was bigger than the first floor at school.

"Remember," Ed said as we did one final prep session that evening, "just stick to the facts. Don't let them bait you into emotional responses."

Easier said than done when you're about to face the woman whose husband you... No. Not husband. Not anymore. The papers made that clear, even if my guilt hadn't quite caught up to reality.

The deposition room felt like a tomb. Everything was cream-colored and sterile, from the walls to the conference table that stretched like a barrier between two worlds. I was early - or so I thought.

She was already there.

Priscilla sat at the far end, a vision in cream Chanel tweed that probably cost more than my first car. Even now, the sight of her hit like a left hook. She was just as beautiful as that night at the International - all delicate features and perfect posture, making me feel large and ungainly in my navy suit that suddenly seemed cheap and ill-fitting.

They say men "cheat down," but looking at her, I felt it in my bones. What could Elvis possibly have seen in me when he had this porcelain doll at home? I was all wrong angles and wild curls that the humidity had already started to revolt against. Too fleshy, too loud, too... everything she wasn't.

Her eyes met mine across the room - cool, assessing, like she was cataloging every flaw. I forced myself to hold her gaze even as my stomach churned.

The Colonel arrived just before the attorneys, settling into a chair near the back of the room like a spider watching its web. His presence felt like another weight pressing down.

The attorneys filed in like well-dressed vultures. Priscilla's lead counsel, Andrew Marshall, looked exactly like you'd expect. Silver-haired, sharp-featured, with eyes that had probably never smiled in their life. His team arranged themselves around him like a pack of wolves circling prey.

Elvis arrived last, flanked by Ed Hookstratten and his team. He looked devastating in a charcoal suit I'd never seen before. Our eyes met briefly before he took his seat, and something in his expression made my heart stumble.

"Please state your name for the record," the court reporter began.

"Valerie Marie Pedretti."

"And your occupation, Miss Pedretti?" Marshall's tone was almost friendly.

"I'm a singer and music teacher."

"How long have you been performing professionally?"

This wasn't so bad. Just basic background questions. I felt myself relax slightly. "About eight years. I started teaching music while still in college."

"And how did you come to be in Las Vegas in July 1969?"

"I was there to audition for Frank Sinatra's show at the International."

"Successful audition?"

"No, sir."

"But you stayed in Vegas anyway?"

"I had other opportunities." The words came easily. These were simple facts, nothing to fear.

"Yes, quite fortunate how those opportunities presented themselves." Marshall's tone shifted slightly. "Tell me about the elevator, Miss Pedretti."

"Objection to form," Ed cut in. "Vague question."

"I'll rephrase." Marshall's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Please describe your first encounter with Mr. Presley."

I recited the story we'd rehearsed. "We met in an elevator at the International. Brief conversation. Professional."

"Professional." Marshall tested the word like wine. "And after that?"

"Mr. Presley offered me a position as a backup singer."

"Just like that? No audition? No formal process?"

I felt the first hint of danger. "I had to prove myself in the studio."

"Of course." Marshall shuffled some papers. "And these late-night recording sessions... always strictly professional?"

"Yes." My voice was steady, but my hands had started to shake under the table.

"Even the night of August 31st?"

"We were working on arrangements—"

"Until 4 AM?" His smile sharpened. "With no other singers present?"

The room suddenly felt smaller. Across the table, Elvis shifted in his chair.

"Miss Pedretti," Marshall continued, his tone deceptively light, "let's discuss the gifts."

"Objection," Ed started, but Marshall waved him off.

"Simply establishing the nature of their relationship."

"The jewelry, the clothes..." Marshall consulted his notes. "Quite generous for a professional relationship."

Something in me snapped. "Is accepting a gift from a friend against the law, Mr. Marshall?"

The room went very still. I caught myself too late, remembering Ed's warnings about staying calm. Across the table, Elvis's lips twitched slightly.

"Friends." Marshall's voice hardened. "Is that what you call it? These 'friendly' gifts worth thousands of dollars? This 'friendly' apartment in Memphis?"

"I paid my own rent," I said quietly, trying to recover my composure.

"With money earned from your suddenly flourishing career? Amazing how doors opened once you became Mr. Presley's... friend."

Each word felt like another cut. I forced myself to breathe steadily, to remember Ed's coaching. Don't let them bait you.

"Let's discuss Christmas, Miss Pedretti." Marshall's voice took on a new edge. "The night you fled Memphis rather... dramatically."

"I left because I believed Mrs. Presley was returning home." The rehearsed line felt hollow now.

"And why would that concern you? If, as you claim, nothing inappropriate had occurred?"

"I wanted to be respectful of their marriage."

"Respectful?" Marshall's laugh was soft, cruel. "Is that what you call your behavior in this photograph?"

He slid a manila envelope across the table. Inside were photos from Vegas - innocent moments made to look sordid. Elvis and I at the piano. Walking in the garden. Leaving the studio late at night.

"Quite cozy for a 'professional' relationship, wouldn't you say?"

I couldn't speak. Each photo felt like another nail in the coffin of everything beautiful we'd shared. Every moment twisted into something… cheap.

"But this," Marshall produced another photo with theatrical timing, "this is my personal favorite."

My heart stopped. There it was in glossy black and white. Elvis and me outside the service entrance. The kiss that had started everything falling apart. The one Red thought he'd contained.

From the back of the room, I caught the Colonel's slight smile. He'd known. Of course he'd known.

"Perhaps you can explain this particular... professional interaction?" Marshall's voice dripped with false concern.

Hot tears pricked at my eyes but I wouldn't let them fall. Wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"This was taken after the separation papers were signed," I managed.

"But before they were filed," Marshall countered. "While Mr. Presley was still very much married to my client." He turned to directly address Priscilla. "I'm sorry you have to see this, Mrs. Presley."

Across the table, Elvis made a sound low in his throat - the kind of sound a wounded animal might make. His hands were clenched so tight his rings must have been cutting into his skin.

"The timing of this photograph," Marshall continued, "suggests a rather different story than the one you've been telling. Phone records show calls to your apartment at all hours. Staff reports intimate dinners. And now this... very convincing evidence of a relationship that clearly began long before any legal separation."

The implication hung in the air like smoke. I sat perfectly still as Marshall systematically destroyed every beautiful memory, every tender moment, every time Elvis had looked at me like I was his salvation.

"In fact," Marshall pressed, "isn't it true that your relationship with Mr. Presley was instrumental in the breakdown of his marriage?"

"No," I whispered, but the word had no power anymore. Not with that photo staring up at me, damning in its simple truth.

"I think we need a break." Ed's voice cut through the fog of humiliation.

I stood on trembling legs, my dignity in shreds but my spine still straight. As I made my way to the door, I caught Priscilla watching me. Something flickered across her perfect features - not quite sympathy, but understanding maybe. She knew what it cost to love him. What it cost to lose him.

Behind me, I heard chairs scraping; Elvis trying to follow, probably, and his lawyers holding him back. The Colonel's voice, low and firm: "Let her go, boy. This is how it has to be."

Even through the tears that threatened to fall, I held my head high. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not Marshall, not Priscilla, not even the Colonel with his calculated chess moves. But inside, something had shattered. The last remnants of whatever fairy tale I'd been telling myself about loving Elvis Presley.

In the bathroom, I pressed my forehead against the cool mirror and watched my tears finally fall. They'd been playing us all along. The Colonel, Marshall, maybe even Priscilla - they'd had that photo in their pocket like a silver bullet with my name on it. Just waiting for the right moment to pull the trigger.

The worst part? It was such a beautiful photo. Even in black and white, you could see it - the way Elvis held me, the way my hand curled into his jacket, the perfect capture of a moment when love felt bigger than consequences. Now it was just evidence. Another nail in the coffin on our relationship.

I could never, ever go back to him.

I wiped my eyes, fixed my makeup with shaking hands. There were still hours of this to get through. More questions, more photos maybe, more carefully aimed arrows meant to make me bleed.

Thankfully, the bathroom was all marble and soft lighting. The kind designed to flatter even the most tear-stained of faces. I white-knuckled the edge of the sink, watching water drip from my chin. My legs felt like two dangling noodles.

The door opened. In the mirror, I saw her enter - still perfect, still pristine in her cream Chanel. But something was different now. A slight tremor in her hand as she reached for her purse. The way she wouldn't quite look at her own reflection.

Without a word, without even looking at me, Priscilla placed a tissue on the counter beside my hand. The gesture was neither kind nor cruel. Just acknowledgment, maybe, of another woman trying not to cry in a fancy bathroom.

Jesus Christ.

I was being comforted by Elvis Presley's wife. The same woman whose marriage I'd helped destroy was wordlessly offering me tissues while I tried not to ruin my mascara. The absurdity of it made me want to laugh, but I was afraid if I started, it would turn into something else entirely.

I took the Kleenex, carefully dabbing under my eyes. We stood there in silence, two women doing the familiar dance of fixing makeup that couldn't really fix anything. The surreal intimacy of it all made my chest tight. In another life, another universe, we might have been friends. We'd have so much in common; the way he looked at us when we were too naive to know better, how it felt to be the center of his world until something else caught his attention, what it cost to love someone who belonged to everyone and no one at all.

"My attorneys that photo for months," she said softly, reapplying her lipstick with practiced precision. "They were waiting for the right moment."

Our eyes met in the mirror. For just a moment, I saw something flicker across her perfect features, not sympathy exactly, but recognition. And that was somehow worse than if she'd been cruel. Because she understood. More than anyone else on earth, she understood exactly what it felt like to be caught in Elvis's orbit, to be torn apart by his gravity.

Her kindness felt like another kind of punishment - because how fucked up was it that the woman who had every right to hate me was the only one who really knew what this felt like?

She capped her lipstick with a precise click. Checked her hair one last time. Then she was gone, the door closing behind her with barely a sound.

I wiped my eyes, straightened my shoulders. There were still hours of deposition ahead. More questions, more photos maybe, more carefully concocted accusations to make me crumple. But at least now I understood - this wasn't really about me or Priscilla anymore. This was just what happened when you loved a man who would always love being Elvis Presley more than he could ever love any of us. @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @arrolyn1114 @missmaywemeetagain @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @prompted-wordsmith @peskybedtime @lookingforrainbows @austinbutlersgirl67@lala1267 @thatbanditqueen @dontcrydaddy @lovingdilfs @elvispresleygf @plasticfantasticl0ver @ab4eva @presleysweetheart @chasingwildflowers @elvispresleywife @uh-all-shook-up @xxquinnxx @edgeofrealitys-blog@velvetprvsley @woundmetender @avengen @richardslady121 @presleyhearted @kendralavon7 @18lkpeters@lookingforrainbows @elvisalltheway101 @sissylittlefeather @atleastpleasetelephone @eliseinmemphis@tacozebra051 @thetaoofzoe @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @crash-and-cure @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @devilsflowerr@dirtyelvisfant4sy @elvislittleone @foreverdolly @therealslimshakespeare @getyourpresleyfix@gayforelvis @headfullofpresley @h0unds-of-h3ll @hipshakingkingcreole @p0lksaladannie @doll-elvis @tacozebra051 @richardslady121 @jaqueline19997 @myradiaz@livelaughelvis @deke-rivers-1957 @jhoneybees @atleastpleasetelephone @eapep @elvispresleywife @that-hotdog @landlockedmermaid77 @sissylittlefeather @kawaiiwitchy @eapep @iloveelvisss @argangelbornxoxo

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fans #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis fic #elvis x oc #songbird

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iloveelvisss · 2 months ago

Note

I would love to see more yandere elvis, maybe him blowing up at the mafia for getting to "close" even if it's not really anything besides politeness. (All the requests are yandere)

Or, (This is seasonal) elvis and reader going over a christmas list for reader.

Maybe even elvis tells the reader he wants kids(Vegas era)

Elvis tells the reader what to wear for a party.

Reader cleaning graceland and elvis gets breeding urges (smut)

Reader getting concerned about elvis in the late years of the 70s, and helps him get off the drugs, why? Because he does what she wants (yandere behavior)

Anyway, some ideas for possible one shots. You can ignore this ask if you want, but I wanted to give you a few ideas :)

Okayyyy so eventually I’m gonna try and do all of these… maybe? But I really liked the one about him getting upset at the Memphis Mafia for ‘looking’ at his girl, so I’m gonna go with that one for this. Thank you soooo much, and please feel free to request more😙😙!! Also, thank you, because these are such good ideas!

Lookin’ (Elvis oneshot)

Correlates to Lovestruck and goes along with that storyline (which will hopefully be getting a second part sometime soon).

Pairing: yandere!Elvis x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sometime after everything is settled and Elvis has married Y/N, he feels as though a member of the Memphis Mafia is getting too close to his ‘angel’. And he won’t stand for that.

Warnings/Triggers: yandere fic, so expect delusional, obsessive, compulsive, manipulative, crazed, and possessive behavior. Elvis gets very angry and possessive. References to drug use. References to forced marriage, breeding, and the colonel.

In hindsight you should’ve known better. It had only been a month since you had to marry Elvis, and he was still very much in the honeymoon mindset. He wanted you pregnant— another way to make his claim on you a known thing to anyone else.

You somehow got to walk to the bar without him going with you. Most likely because he had a clear view of you from where he stood talking to Sammy Davis Jr., who had come to watch his show. You poured yourself a water— just to be safe, and then you went on your way back to him at a leisurely pace. You stopped to admire the painting he had hanging on the suite’s wall. It was very pretty. A large landscape of gorgeous purple flowers that were blowing freely in the wind. Such a cruel difference to your current life.

That’s when it happened. Sonny came up beside you, holding a beer. “Nice, ain’t it? Me and Red bought it for ‘im before you came along.”

You smiled politely, making sure to not make eye contact. You nod and take a drink of your water, which was now halfway empty. “S’ very pretty. Bet it makes him miss simple life sometimes,” you sigh, knowing that you’re really referencing yourself. You missed simple life. Nowadays you wished you would’ve said no to the job offer and stayed in California with the trust fund kids.

Sonny noticed your drink and offered to refill it, to which you politely declined. But it was too late. His hand touched yours and Elvis saw.

You made eye contact with him from across the room and you saw his jaw clench. His eyes darkened only slightly, and nobody other than you saw it. But the whole room stilled and watched with bated breath as he dropped his conversation with Sammy and stormed over to you. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea, and he looked as if he was a predator stalking his prey with his eyes narrowed and his nose flared. His shoulders held back to make them come off as more broad. He was downright angry— scary angry.

You knew you were in trouble, and you held your breath as he made it to you. He grabbed your arm and dragged you into the bedroom portion of the suite. He locked you in it, and you could only imagine the shit he was giving Sonny.

“That’s my wife! My goddamn wife! Ya stay away from ‘er, or I’ll break yer goddamn neck!”

And then the door reopens and he comes storming in, his anger pouring off of him in waves. You take a large step back and then you fall backwards onto the small chair by the window. He leans down into your face, grabbing your jaw. “Ya like humiliatin’ me, angel? Huh? Ya like makin’ it look like my own wife don’t want me at my party?”

You fight back the tears that are trying desperately to fall. You shake your head as best as you can with his grip. “Please… Elvis, I didn’t mean anything by it. I- I was just talking to him.”

He stares into your eyes with a heated gaze for what feels like hours, and then he seems to remember himself, and he takes a deep breath. He loosens his grip, his eyes softening just a bit. “I don’t like it when those… those pigs talk to ya, Y/N,” his hand moves to caress your cheek and clear your tears that managed to fall, “Jus’ promise me you’ll stay by my side, yeah? Don’t let those suckers talk to ya?”

You quickly nod, just wanting him to stay happy. You shakily reach up and put your hand over his, holding it to your face. “Y- yeah, baby, I’ll only talk to you. Promise.” You say as firmly as you can manage in your slightly shaken state. He then nods, seeming convinced and content enough.

Elvis reaches down and pulls you up by the arm. He pulls you into an embrace, his fingers gently trailing through your hair. He kisses the top of your head, whispering, “Mhm, angel, s’ jus’ you and me, okay? Forever. Yer mine.”

Okay, so this is ACTUALLY shit. I’m so sorry, please forgive me😭. But I wanted to get at least one of your requests out for you. Enjoy…?

Tags: @queenstarlight (lmk if you wanna be added)

#elvisaaronpresley #elvis presley #elvis fic #vintage #70s #elvis fans #elvis the pelvis #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #fanfic #70s elvis #60s elvis #50s elvis #elvis fandom #elvis presley fanfiction #fanfiction #yandere

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stanford-photography · 1 month ago

Text

Angela, Grand Canyon, 2008 By Jeff Stanford, 2024

Buy prints at: https://jeff-stanford.pixels.com/

I met Angela in Las Vegas, Nevada, November 4th, 2008, the night Barack Obama won his first election. I was on a two-month long road trip from New Jersey to the West Coast and back after the funeral of my youngest brother. I was lucky to be working for myself as a web developer with some wonderful customers that I only needed to meet IRL a couple of times a year. One to three hours a day working on projects was enough to keep me financially free so I would do that first in the morning and then either move on or stay someplace to see the sights. I also discovered a couple of sites where I could meet up with women at each destination who might like to show me around. I always made it clear that I was on a road trip and only around for a short while, but I was surprised by the number of people who replied. So, in Las Vegas it was Angela I met, and we hit it off wonderfully. Originally, I was supposed to meet up with my best friend, Mick, from England but he could not make it at the last minute. Angela was a great host and even though I never made a single bet I had a great time in all the clubs, bars, casinos, and restaurants in Vegas we visited. Eventually when it was time me to leave Angela and her daughter Jessica followed along as far as Memphis.

#© Jeff Stanford #woman #canyon #landscape #yellow #contemplation #wind #hair #horizon #nature #solitude #midjourney #midjourneyart #digitalart #artwork

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hooked-on-elvis · 10 months ago

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WARDROBE TESTS — "ROUSTABOUT" (1964)

The clothes pictured in the series of costume tests for Roustabout did not actually make it into the movie, which credits Edith Head for wardrobe. As Paramount's Chief Costume Designer, she is listed on all of Elvis' movies for the studio, although the costume department employed a wide variety of personnel. Many of Elvis' clothes were bought off the rack by a costumer or stylist and viewed by the singer in a wardrobe sitting. "If Elvis didn't like something, he didn't have to wear it," recalls his friend Joe Esposito. "But he was very cooperative and figured, 'Hey, it's not me on stage, it's just a movie, so if that's what they want me to wear, I'll wear it.'"

Excerpt from book "Elvis fashion: From Memphis to Vegas" by Julie Mundy (2003)

During making of 'Blue Hawaii', 1961. From left to right, Elvis' manager Colonel Parker, Paramount's Chief Costume Designer Edith Head, Elvis Presley, Marie Parker (Colonel's wife) and film producer Hal Wallis.

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis history #50s elvis #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis fashion #elvis library

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wanderingelvis · 2 years ago

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🧚 WanderingElvis' Masterlist 🧚

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

2. Meeting Gladys & Graceland (Requested)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

18. Elvis overstimulates Innocent!Reader at the movies

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

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

Elvis Fanfictions

Sparkly Little Thing 🧚✨ | A Yandere!Elvis fic

Chapter One - The Party

Elvis Headcanons

CG!Elvis feeds Little F!Reader

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

3. How Elvis treats Innocent F!Reader in public

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

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

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

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

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

#elvis x y/n #elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fluff #elvis x reader #yandere elvis #elvis music #austin butler elvis #elvis songs #elvis!austin #70s elvis #60s elvis #50s elvis #big daddy elvis #big daddy #elvis masterlist

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everythingelvispresley · 1 year ago

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I stumbled upon this on Everything Elvis from Shake Rag to Memphis Facebook group. Lovely and funny story from Joe Esposito

We were in Vegas and one day Elvis was bored. So, he went over to this big telescope that we had in the living room. He was checking out the women that were sunbathing at the hotel's pool. Well, after a while he got, you know, bored with that. A while later, he walked back over to the telescope and was checking out the Strip. All of a sudden, he stood up straight, rubbed his eyes and shot me a devilish grin and said, "Hey, Joe. Get over here. I've got a job for you!". I knew he was up to something. Anyway, he had me look through the telescope at this car dealership that was WAY out on the edge of town. Elvis instructed me to get his checkbook and call the dealership. I was to tell them who I was and that I worked for Elvis. That Elvis wanted six Cadillacs delivered to the front entrance of the Hilton. Now, here's the catch: They had a half hour to type up the paperwork and deliver the cars or the deal was off. Not even one minute late! Elvis was watching the dealership'windows with the telescope and started laughing hysterically. He said, "Joe! C'mon over here and look at this. Man, they're going nuts down there!". He wasn't kidding. A full-blown crew of people were scurrying about trying to get the paperwork around at a breakneck pace. Another group was washing the cars. Meanwhile, Elvis was peering through his telescope and giving everybody a play-by-play. Well, the dealership managed to pull it off and delivered the Cadillacs on time. I went downstairs and filled out the check. It was a crazy time. Back when Vegas was fun and Elvis had fun. I'll never forget that. You never knew what to expect when you were with Elvis Presley. No two days were the same.

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis aaron presley #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis vegas

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sissylittlefeather · 2 months ago

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Bonded: Part 6

I Can't Stop Loving You

A/N: Here it is. The end of my vampire!Elvis story! I hope you all have enjoyed this wild ride. Let me know your thoughts in the comments!

Again, I couldn't do this without @ccab and @atleastpleasetelephone. Y'all the real MVPs, for real.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, cussing, kissing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also vampires so blood drinking, some illness and unconsciousness

Word count: ~2.5k

You drift off to sleep in his arms and he looks at you and then Lisa Marie, thinking he has everything he needs right now at this moment, as long as everyone wakes up in the morning.

******

You're rattled awake before the sun comes up by Elvis laughing. At first, you're not sure what you're hearing so you sit straight up, terrified. But then you realize he's laughing and you immediately look at Lisa Marie. Her eyes are open.

“Honey, it worked! Oh my God, it worked.” He holds her hand to his face and lets the tears fall without any inhibition. Lisa’s eyes look around the room as she tries to figure out where she is. He talks to her in a soothing voice, stroking her hair gently.

And then there's a lot of bustle in the room when the nurses figure out she's breathing on her own and no longer needs the oxygen. You kind of fade into the background as the scene unfolds between the doctors, Elvis, and Lisa Marie. When Priscilla shows up, you really try to move into a corner and disappear. They're a family, and even if there's no love between the parents anymore, the love for their child brings them together in a way you can't be part of. You try to slip out of the room undetected, but Elvis feels it when you go.

“Honey, wait!” He hollers at your back down the hallway. You're afraid to face him with the tears on your cheeks, but you stop walking. “Where are you goin’?”

He catches up to you and you can't avoid it anymore, so you turn to him. His expression is one of pure concern.

“Doll, why are you leavin’?” You shake your head and look down at your feet.

“Elvis, you have a family.”

“Yes, but you knew that? Nothing has changed.” He reaches out and squeezes your upper arm gently. You meet his crystal blue eyes, your own wide and wet.

“Everything has changed. Elvis, I can't break up your family.” He purses his lips.

“You mean me and Priscilla? That's been broken for a long time. Now, come on. Come back to the room.” You look up at the ceiling and sigh. How do you tell him that you understand what it means to love a child? And that there's no place for strangers in that bond? You tried with your own kids and it never worked. Eventually you gave up.

“Elvis. I can't come between you and your family-”

“I want you to be a part of my family.” You shake your head again.

“No, Elvis, I can't. Not right now. Maybe later when…”

“When they die, you mean?” Now his voice catches at the thought.

“Well, Lisa Marie may not.”

“No. And she'll need someone like you to help her. Cilla can't do that.” You feel like someone has staked you through the heart. The idea of leaving him hurts whatever is left of your soul so much that you want to throw up. But you know that it's wrong to break up his family while he still has the opportunity to have it.

“Call me then. Goodbye, Elvis.” You put your hand on his chest and lean forward, pressing your lips to his cheek. “I will always love you.”

“No… no!” His eyes are filled with hot tears and he can't decide if he's more angry or sad. But he doesn't chase you when you turn and leave.

******

Thankfully, your boss is so excited to have you back that he doesn't think twice about hiring you again. You never fully got rid of your apartment either, and it was easy to get your stuff back while everyone else was at the hospital. You ran out of tears on the plane from Memphis to Vegas.

Now it's been two months since you've seen him and your emotional state is starting to impact your physical one. It's strange, you've never been sick since you've been a vampire, but you're also not feeding regularly. You're barely keeping yourself from starving, so you assume that's what it is when you notice yourself aging and you develop a fever. You try to keep working, but it gets harder and harder.

******

Elvis is by Lisa Marie's side through her recovery process, giving her drops of blood while she sleeps. She continues to get stronger and stronger and the doctors are perplexed. They attribute it to her youth, shrug their shoulders, and let her go home to Graceland. Priscilla argues that she wants to take her back to California, but Elvis puts his foot down, citing Cilla’s absence during her illness as his evidence for keeping her in Memphis. Finally, she gets fed up and leaves, insisting that they actually get the divorce they've been talking about for years.

Everything is running smoothly until Elvis has to go to Nashville to record. Priscilla collects Lisa Marie and takes her back to LA, and he's too weak to fight her on it. His bodyguards have noticed something is off about him. He didn't take too kindly to you leaving and anytime Lisa was asleep, he was in some kind of depressive rage. His mood swings were wild and unpredictable and his feeding habits were borderline dangerous. At one point Sonny had to take a girl to the hospital because he had come so close to draining her.

But even with all the feeding, he starts to get feeble and weak. His rage turns to melancholy and he locks himself in his room crying. When it's time to leave for Nashville, he looks so bad that the guys start to wonder if he needs a doctor. Still, that shouldn't be possible if he's immortal, right?

He does his best in the studio, but it's obvious that he's struggling. The guys look around the room nervously, unsure of what to do. They're scared to ask him about it, since he's been in such a mood, but eventually Sonny decides enough is enough.

“Boss, you don't look so good. Are you okay?” He whispers in his ear as Elvis tries to steady himself on a stool in front of the microphone.

“Hm? Yeah. I'm fine.” But he looks pale, even more than normal, and feels feverish.

“Are you sure? Is there someone we can call?” Elvis turns his head sharply. He automatically thinks of you and all his rage comes back.

“No there's not. Quit asking me fucking questions. I'm-” He tries to stand up, but everything gets fuzzy around the edges and then goes black. Luckily, Sonny is able to catch him before he hits the ground.

The room erupts in a panic as everyone tries to figure out what to do about Elvis Presley passing out during a recording session. When nothing works to revive him, they rush him to his hotel room and call a doctor that they've paid to keep his condition a secret. After examining him, the doctor looks at them helplessly.

“I have no other way to say this. He is dying.” Sonny shakes his head, speaking for the room.

“Not possible, doc, he's-”

“I know what he is. I've seen it before. But somehow, he is dying.” They all stand around in various states of distress, but Sonny isn't ready to give up. He has one more resource: you.

******

Sonny doesn't have your phone number, but he knows where you live, having been there to fetch things for you when you were living with Elvis in Vegas. He wastes no time in chartering a plane with Elvis's name and money and heads out to find you.

When he gets to your apartment, he knocks wildly, but you don't answer.

“Y/n! It's Sonny West! I'm here for Elvis!” Still no response. He can see that the lights are on, so he figures you must be in there. He tries again. “Come on, he really needs you! Please!”

He listens at the door, but doesn't hear any movement. But he loves his boss and is not to be deterred by you being a brat. Not if it means saving his life.

“Y/n, let me in!” He decides this is not the time for privacy and moves to the window to assess whether you're really in there. And that's when he sees you. “Oh my God.”

It takes him a couple of tries, but he's not a small guy, so he manages to kick down the door fairly easily. He runs to you where you're laying on the floor face-down. It doesn't take him long to figure out that whatever Elvis has, you have it too. He scoops you into his arms and somehow manages to get you to the airport and on a plane without anyone asking too many questions. He says a quick prayer of thanks for Elvis's money and resources.

At the hotel in Nashville, Elvis remains unconscious and they try to decide if they should call Vernon and the Colonel. Just as they land on telling them, Sonny busts through the door dramatically with you in his arms.

“Found her like this too. I don't know what it is, but it's got both of them.” He lays you on the bed next to Elvis and they all stand around staring at the two of you.

“Now what?” Jerry asks quietly. Sonny looks at him and shakes his head.

“I have no goddamn idea.” But just as the words leave his mouth, Elvis's eyes flutter open. “Oh my God, EP!”

Elvis cringes like his head hurts and closes his eyes again, but he speaks.

“Where is she? I know she's here. I can feel her.” Sonny is the only one bold enough to respond, but even he is amazed at Elvis knowing that you're there.

“Sh-she's next to you, man. She's on the bed.” They watch as Elvis moves his hand and finds yours on the mattress. He turns his head toward you and opens his eyes, smiling softly.

“Leave us alone.” They all start to protest. “I said, leave us alone. Now.”

He might be near death, but he's still their boss, so they listen and file out of the room. Once he hears the door shut behind them, he immediately rolls over and touches your face gently.

“Honey, I'm here. Wake up.” Like a miracle, your eyes open and you turn to him, blinking.

“Where are we?”

“Does it matter? We're together.” You smile and reach up to touch his cheek.

“I missed you.” He chuckles softly.

“I missed you too. Thought I was going to die.”

“Me too. I didn't know what was happening. I was pretty sure it was because I wasn't feeding.” He purses his lips.

“Why would you do a damn fool thing like that?!” You wince when he yells at you.

“Didn't think there was much point in being alive anymore.” He sits up quickly.

“No, you don't get to decide that. You don't get to leave me alone and then decide that. We are bonded, remember? Or did you forget that part when you abandoned me?” You whimper and he realizes how weak you are. Without thinking, he pulls you into his arms, putting your lips on his neck. “Drink, baby.”

You moan softly and run your tongue over the spot where you first bit him all those years ago. Your fangs descend and you manage to sink them into his skin. He grunts a bit and you start to feed, taking big hungry gulps of his sweet blood.

“There. Do you feel better?” You pull back, nodding and licking your lips. You do feel a lot better. It seems like your fever has broken and you have some of your old strength back. Enough to argue with him, at least.

“I didn't leave you alone. I left you with your wife and child.” He scoffs.

“My wife who sent me divorce papers a week ago?” You raise your eyebrows.

“She did?”

“I told you. That was broken long before you came back into the picture.” He runs his trembling hand through his hair. He's still a little pale and weak. You climb onto his lap and don't even ask, you just move your hair off of your neck and he bites you as gently as he can, sucking down your blood hungrily. When he finishes, he puts his hand on the side of your neck with his thumb on your cheek. “You are my family, honey. I need you. Apparently even more than I knew.”

It's obvious that being together is bringing you both back to health, especially after you feed.

“I need you, too, Elvis. And not just for blood. I love you.”

“I know, doll, I love you too.” And then he pulls you down into a bruising kiss. There are no more words between you as you unzip his pants and pull his dick out to pump it with your hand. He moans softly as you push your skirt up and slip your panties to the side. With his hands on your hips, you sink down onto him, letting him fill you fully. You wrap yourself around him, your body rolling against his as his cock slides in and out of you.

You fuck like this for a while, slow and sensual, your bodies moving together in a rhythm. But it doesn't take much longer for the pace to reach a fever pitch and he holds you to himself, rolling over without pulling out to give himself more leverage. He starts to pound you relentlessly, slamming his hips into yours over and over again. The noises come spilling out of both of you as you start to sweat and pant, the bed rocking and the headboard ramming against the wall.

“Oh God, Elvis…” You moan loudly as his cock hits your g-spot repeatedly, pushing you to the edge of oblivion.

“Fuck, I missed you baby.” He feels his orgasm gather between hips and his pace gets more erratic. “Cum for me.”

“Yes! Oh, God, yes!” You scream as your climax explodes inside you over and again while you throb on him. He's not far behind you, slamming his hand against the wall as he drives into you one last time, his dick twitching as it empties inside you.

Outside the door, the guys wait and listen to see if you both are okay. As soon as they hear the headboard start to hit the wall, they suppress smiles. Sonny whispers.

“They're fine. Let's leave them to it.” The other guys try not to laugh as they all make their way to the elevator.

Back in the room, you come down from your high, both of you shaking and pressing kisses to each other wherever you can. He nuzzles your neck and whispers.

“Don't leave me again.” You kiss his lips softly.

“I won't. Apparently, I can't.” He smiles and breathes out a small laugh.

“No. It would appear we are stuck with each other.” He kisses your cheek.

“Fine by me.” You whisper, as you look into his eyes.

“We’re bonded, honey. I am yours and you are mine. Forever.” He pushes a piece of hair behind your ear and you kiss the end of his nose.

“Sounds like a dream.” A warm smile breaks across his face.

“It is, baby. It really is.”

******

The End

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

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfic

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