#mafia!elvis presley

[foreverdolly]

Heyyyyy Sunny baby! So listen, congratulations on hitting 2.5K! I couldn’t imagine it happening to a better person.

So I have a request for mafia boss!Elvis (preferably 70s era if that’s okay with you!)

21. “Touch her and you’re dead.”

16. “You shoot anyone that comes through the door who isn’t me.”

And I would like the forbidden love trope as well!

Something about mafia boss!elvis and the forbidden love trope sounds hot to me. I love you baby! Congratulations again!

-Daisy (@powerofelvis)

𝐏𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚!𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

prompts: "you shoot anyone that comes through the door who isn't me" and "touch her and you're dead." with forbidden love trope.

word count: 2.1k

song: i got a feelin' in my body - elvis presley

notes/warnings: SMUT! brief talk of violence. elvis owns you and your pussy, but he worships the ground that you walk on. you've got him majorly pussy whipped. thank you so so much, daisy! i hope you enjoy this.

You were guilty of overlooking every rotten thing that your lover had ever done- which was a lot. Your ole’ man wasn’t a very good man, but he owned you. Heart and soul, he owned you. Your existence before Elvis felt so far off- like it had been a past life. You weren’t sure how you even functioned before you had a great big man to warm your bed at night and scare away all the monsters. 

You were guilty of overlooking every rotten thing that your lover had ever done- which was a lot. Your ole’ man wasn’t a very good man, but he owned you. Heart and soul, he owned you. Your existence before Elvis felt so far off- like it had been a past life. You weren’t sure how you even functioned before you had a great big man to warm your bed at night and scare away all the monsters. 

The Sunset Strip used to be your stomping grounds. You made a name for yourself there, what with your good looks and submissive disposition. One day you were doing a private dance for a good looking stranger that was dressed to the nines, and the next day you were holed up in the penthouse of his luxurious hotel room, breeding like rabbits and kissing until both of your lips felt raw. 

Elvis loved adorning you in diamonds and blood rubies. He made sure your hair and nails were done at all times, bought you all of the latest designer collections- you were a prize, and he treated you as such. His prize. The man, regardless of his cold exterior, belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him. You had him wrapped around your little finger. The power that you had over the boss was remarkable. All it took was a singular heated gaze from across a busy room, and in the blink of an eye he would be tugging you into the nearest bathroom, ripping at your chiffon skirt with eager hands. 

Your name hung from his neck on a solid gold chain, the lettering inlaid with diamonds. He had one made for you as well- ELVIS spelled out in bulky letters. He loved to joke around and say that it was your collar. He’d often tug your face closer to his by hooking one of his long fingers underneath the chain. You loved feeling the heat of his cigar and peppermint scented breath, paired with the cold metal bite of the thick chain pressing nto your neck and he pulled you up, up, up. Elvis either fucked you like he hated you or made love to you as though you were made of silk stretched thin over porcelain. 

It drove him crazy, but he loved being mean to you. Loved biting into your skin to leave claim marks deep enough to draw blood. You’d yelp and thrash, scratching at his exposed flesh, all while he’d stay deeply buried inside of you. Marking you. Claiming you. Owning you. He’d apologize afterwards with strong calloused hands stroking gently at your hips, his skilled tongue flattened against your abused pussy. 

Your ole’ man was harsh and cruel. He loved striking first and getting even. He believed that pain and death were two of the greatest motivators in life. He held strong to his convictions, maintaining that certain things weren’t deserved but earned. 

Life being one of them. 

Elvis rarely messed up. His ideas were usually reckless- the thoughts of a mad man- but everything always worked in his favor.  He was an evil genius, his mind only working in absolutes. 

You were lounging on the king sized bed, your long legs stretched out behind you, your head popped up on your elbow. You enjoyed watching Elvis work. You liked the way his long fingers rubbed against the barrel of his gun as he polished his collection. You liked the deep rumble of his voice, like lightning before a storm, when he was barking orders at someone over the phone. You liked it when his blue eyes turned glacial when something didn’t go exactly his way- the murderous aura that overcame his built stature. 

He was all powerful. He had a penchant for torture. He didn’t believe in “forgiving and forgetting”. He feared no one and nothing. 

And he was yours. 

“And what the fuck do they want?” He leaned back into the red velvet desk chair, boredly staring out the window and down at the view of the city. He owned half of it. 

You watched him with heavy lidded eyes, your limbs still shaky and unstable after an hour of incessant pounding from the tops of Elvis’s muscled thighs. Usually he stayed in bed long enough to watch his cum drip out of your spent cunt, lazily scooping the warm seed up with two fingers only to shove it back inside. 

Keep it where it belonged. 

There was something about tonight's conversation with one of his lackeys, Lamar, that felt off to you though. 

“Tell Frank that if he tries to get anywhere close to me that we’re gonna have’a problem,” A heated pause, and then Elvis was slamming his large fist down onto his oak table. “I’ll blow his fuckin’ brains out. You tell him that verbatim, got it?” He slammed the black telephone back down onto the receiver, stretching out his long legs before letting out a troubled groan. 

“Baby,” He mumbled as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, giving them a few exhausted rubs. “Imma need you to get dressed.” He braced his hands on his knees, letting out a small groan before he was up and moving, one of his shoulders popping when he stretched his long arms up and over his head. 

You dragged yourself up to a sitting position, strands of hair falling off of your shoulder, a few flyaways falling into your face. He wanted so badly to lay you back down on the bed and hold you until you fell asleep. Maybe push himself inside of you up to the hilt, just so that you could warm his cock while you slept. 

But tonight was going to be different. 

Tonight he’d have to teach a few rookies a lesson before he could turn in for the night. He was getting old, and the last time he checked the clock it was nearing midnight. He was tired, and because of that he was extra grumpy. 

He lit up a cigar before reaching into the large walk in closet for the closest shirt. He wasn’t shocked to find that it was a black button up- nearly everything he owned was black. He didn’t bother tucking the material into his trousers before he walked into the living room to slide on the pair of shoes that he had been wearing earlier in the night- before you had slyly cupped him through his pants the moment the both of you had gotten back to dinner. 

“What's wrong?” You called out to him from the bedroom, untangling your limbs from the satin bed sheets and stumbling into the closet. You put on the nearest lacey nightgown, ripping one of your robes off its hanger to pull on as well. 

“Frank and a few of his men are bein’ nice enough to pay me a visit, that’s all. Nothin’ I can’t handle.” He shrugged on the leather holster vest, tightening the belts at his chest before loading them up with guns. He slipped a few magazines into his pockets, just to be safe. 

 He loved watching you dress- but almost everything you did turned him on. The bullets jingled in his pockets as he leaned against the french doors that connected the living room to his private quarters. You could spit in his face and he’d be rearing and ready to teach you a lesson. 

He worshiped you. 

Which is exactly why he had to keep you protected. 

He crossed his strong arms over his chest after he folded up the sleeves to his forearms, the tattoo of his family crest now on full display. “You’re gonna hate me for this,” He started, licking his plush lips before continuing. “But imma need you to get in the closet and close the door, honey. Whatever ya hear out here. . . don’t come out until ya hear me tell you to.” 

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head as you stared at him from across the room, your heart already thundering in your ears. “I-I can’t just stay with-” 

“No!” He barked, causing you to jump in shock. He never raised his voice at you. “This is gonna be bad. "Brains smeared on the walls” sorta bad, lil one.” 

You sucked in a breath, your joints locking up in panic. He could tell that you were starting to spiral, and so he took a few long strides to get to you, pressing a few quick pecks against your already kiss-swollen lips. 

“There’s a couple’a guns in the closet. They’re all loaded. I want ya to shoot anyone that comes through these doors that ain’t me.” 

You nodded your head, shakily turning around to face the closet door. 

“Use your big girl words. I want to hear that you understand.” 

“I understand, Elvis.” 

The dyed brunette heard the closet door shut, and he was quick to close the french doors, only shapes and blurry colors visible behind the frosted glass windows. Almost on cue the door to the suite slammed open, the doorknob going straight through the drywall of the entryway. The man’s eye twitched, one of his guns already in his hand. He felt the cool metal- the weight of the weapon.

It was all familiar, just like going back to Memphis. 

Happiness can be found in a warm gun. When his finger is on the trigger, no one can do him any harm. Elvis could shoot a hole straight through a quarter from half a mile away. 

He was God with a revolver. 

“What the fuck has you bargin’ into my home at midnight, Frank? Did your wife leave ya? Maybe you want to park your sorry ass on my couch.” Elvis used his free hand to push back a few strands of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. 

Frank growled, flashing his clenched teeth at the younger male that stood across from him. 

“I know you took it. Don’t play dumb, you hick.” 

Elvis took a deep breath in through his nose to cool down the heat that was building in his chest. He acted too quickly on his anger- it was something that he was working on. 

“Frankie, I ain’t got the time’a be arguin’ like this. Either tell me why you’re here or get the hell out.” He could have been balls deep in your pussy again by now if it wasn’t for the rude interruption. 

“Someone stole a hundred pounds of product from one of our warehouses last night, and I know it was you.” 

Elvis stood there stoically, his face completely void of any emotion as he let the other male’s words sink in. After a few seconds the corner of his lip turned up into a small smirk. Then it evolved into a grin. 

Before Frank could understand what was going on, Elvis was clutching at his stomach, throwing his head back with loud laughter that echoed around the room. 

“F-Frankie Boy, I had no clue you were such’a comedian.” He wiped at one of his eyes with the back of his hand, as if to rid himself of a tear. “You think that I, Elvis fuckin’ Presley, would steal a measly one hundred pounds. . . from you? I could own you and your entire family four times over. You’re nothin’ to me. Nothin’ but’a speck on a whole map’a pricks.” 

Frank and the two sons at his side bristled with anger. Elvis didn’t flinch when he heard the sound of a gun’s safety being clicked off. He didn’t even bat an eye in their direction. 

“Then who the fuck took it?” Frank asked through clenched teeth, the veins in his forehead bulging. 

Elvis thought that the old man’s fat head might explode, especially if he kept tensing up like that. 

“Maybe ya should check out the nearby gas stations. I’m sure some junkie had a field day., is all” 

And Elvis was right. He hadn’t been the one to steal the product. . . but he did check out one of Frank’s warehouses. He preferred to keep an eye on his competition. 

Elvis didn’t invite the homeless man into the building. . . but he hadn’t exactly locked the door back behind himself when he left. 

“If you don’t start talking, Presley. . . I’ll carve that pretty littl-” 

Elvis might have been an older man, but he was still far faster and stronger than most men that were fifteen years his junior. He’d been in this game a very long time. Before Frank could even finish the sentence, Elvis had one arm wrapped around his throat, his other hand holding a smoking gun. 

The three men had been too shocked to have even heard the gunshot ring out in the penthouse. All they could do was blink dumbly at each other. 

That was before the pain kicked in, anyway. 

The shortest of Frank’s sons dropped to the floor, screaming out and clutching his shattered knee. The gun was already pointed at Frank’s other son before they could even recover from the surprise. 

Elvis pressed his lips against Frank’s ear and spoke through clenched teeth, tightening his hold around his throat. The room plummeted into silence, the only sound behind the boy’s whimpers of pain and the deep sound of the mob boss’s voice. 

The sound of your man’s voice. 

“Touch her and you’re dead.”

taglist: @knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior @18lkpeters @memphis-mania @rjmartin11 @artlover8992

and the big daddy crew: @powerofelvis @ggwritesstuff @woundmetender @eliseinmemphis @polksalademma @flwrs4aust @headfullofpresley @cryingabtab @austinbutlersbaby @lindszeppelin @rosaminny

[ladelinee]

Authors note: I had so much fun writing this that I finished quickly. Maybe I will take longer with the next episode, as the next two weeks are very intense for me 🥲 Enjoy!!

Word count: 3,5K

Warnings: angst, innocent, a bit aggresive E, fluff.

Dontcha’ think It’s time

Part 2 (Part 1 here)

Before you reached the stairs, you could listen already the clinking silverware, lively chatter, and Elvis’s booming laughter. The smell of bacon, toast, and coffee pulled you toward the dining room.

Inside, chairs scraped, voices overlapped, and the Memphis Mafia crowded around the table, plates piled high.

At the center, little Lisa Marie sat in her high chair, happily making a mess spilling cereals.

Lisa spotted you right away. Her face lit up with a big, messy grin.

“You sittin’ by me?” she asked fascinated, her voice slightly muffled by the cereal in her mouth.

“Good morning, Yisa. Of course!” you replied with a warm smile while sliding into the seat next to her.

Lisa giggled, she was excited to enjoy breakfast with you.

Elvis, seated at the head of the table, glanced up. He noticed the interaction, the way Lisa beamed at you, and that put a smile on his face.

Leaning forward slightly, his eyes softened as he said “Mornin’, sugar” his voice smooth and welcoming. “How’d ya sleep?”

You looked over at him, your nerves easing at his kind tone. “Good, thanks. The bed is really comfortable.”

“Well, that’s good to hear” he replied, leaning back in his chair, coffee in hand. “Graceland ain’t that bad, is it?”

“No, it’s really nice” you answered honestly, feeling a bit more at ease.

Elvis nodded, pleased.

Across the table, Joe piped up, breaking the short moment of calm. “Hey, E, the tailor has been waiting for you to confirm a date. Them jumpsuits of yours are about ready to give up.”

“Yeah” Red added, cutting into his pancakes with a grin. “Keep movin’ like you do on stage, and those seams ain’t got a prayer.”

The table roared with laughter as Elvis rolled his eyes, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

“You boys got jokes this mornin’, huh?” he answered back between laughs. “Tell the tailor to come by tomorrow. And careful now, you’re talkin’ to the man who makes sure y’all get breakfast every day.”

Red grinned back. “That’s true, E. But maybe if you laid off the damn bacon those seams wouldn’t be screamin’ for help.”

Elvis shot him a mock glare as the room erupted in laughter again. But before he could retort, Lisa’s little voice piped up, clear as a bell.

“Damn bacon” she let out, nodding as if she agreed with Red.

Everyone laughed at the joke except Elvis, who sighed playfully. He wasn't impressed because Lisa was at that age of repeating everything.

Setting his coffee cup down slowly, Elvis licked his lips, stretched his arms, and cracked his neck like a man about to deliver the final blow. Then, with a smirk so lethal it could knock a man flat, he pointed his fork straight at Red.

“Listen here, I ain’t eatin’ all this bacon for me, man. I’m carb-loadin’ for later… gotta keep my energy up for your mama.”

The guys detonated.

Jerry fell against Charlie, grabbing his chest like he’d been shot. Charlie was howling, pounding the table so hard the syrup bottle tipped over.

Elvis took another bite of bacon, chewed slowly, and winked.

Red threw his hands up. “Man, what the hell, E?! I ain’t even say nothin’ that bad!”

Elvis just shrugged, taking a long sip of coffee. “Well, maybe next time you’ll think twice before talkin’ about me and my jumpsuits. ’Cause trust me, man, ain’t nothin’ burstin’ at the seams but your mama’s breathin’ when I walk through the door.”

“I’m done. I’m done.” Red slammed his napkin on the table.

Elvis grinned, popping another piece of bacon in his mouth. “Yeah, well… your mama ain’t.”

You sat calmly, hands resting on the table, taking it all in. You were watching and listening, completely absorbed. You didn’t understand every jab being thrown, but still. The way he shot back, so quick, so clever… it was something to admire. You fixed your eyes on him, wide with quiet awe, captivated by the effortless way he turned every joke in his favor.

You had no idea what was happening. But one thing was clear: Uncle Elvis was winning.

Elvis looked at you and instantly felt the weight of all his sins.

Red looked between you and Elvis and smirked. “Yeah, E… now you can’t say anything, huh?”

He shot Red a warning glare. “Oh, you dirty son of a…”

After few seconds Elvis swallowed real slow, suddenly feeling about ten degrees hotter. He glanced around: Charlie nudged Jerry. Jerry looked up, saw your sweet little face, and immediately covered his mouth, trying to hold in his laughter. Joe was staring directly at Elvis, mouthing, “Don’t. You. Do. It.”

Elvis cleared his throat, straightened his back, and gave you his most innocent, charming smile.

“Well now, sugar” he started smoothly, looking you dead in the eye. “Let’s just say… your ol’ Uncle does a lotta charity work”

The table lost it.

Joe was laughing quietly, struggling to catch his breath and kicking his legs. Jerry was nearly in tears. Red's face was all red, and he was mumbling something about how the Lord was testing him.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Jerry added, “E, you’re going straight to hell, man.”

The playful teasing helped you unwind, and soon enough, you were laughing along with the jokes, a sense of belonging settling in.

Noticing you loosening up, Red smirked and leaned toward you. “See? Give it a year, and you’ll be just as wild as the rest of us.”

“Yeah, but for now, take it easy, Red. She’s just a little girl.” Jerry swallowed a piece of toast, smirking.

Hearing Jerry’s words stirred something inside you. Since the atmosphere they created was making you feel comfortable, you decided to bring this up. Excitement began to shine in your eyes as you declared with a smile, “Well, not for long. Uncle Elvis is gonna make me a woman.”

The room fell into an instant, stunned silence. Forks hovered midair, coffee cups stopped halfway to lips, not a single breathing, and wide-eyed glances darted across the table.

Elvis paused mid-sip, his coffee cup still hovering close to his mouth. He froze, staring at the scene blankly. Slowly, he lowered his hand, the cup dangling from his fingers as he looked around to see how everyone was reacting.

Red made the mistake of looking at Elvis, saw the absolute panic on his face, and lost the battle. His chest jerked with a barely contained snort.

Charlie’s face turned toward the ceiling, eyes shut tight, fighting for composure, while Joe shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Elvis like he was waiting for him to say something.

But the real problem, the reason the laughter was strained, the reason no one could quite look Elvis in the eye, was that the idea wasn’t actually impossible.

By experience, they all knew better.

Before Elvis could even pronounce a word, you continued innocently, completely unaware of the tension. “He said he’d teach me about what men like and how to be more confident, so I figured…”

Lisa, completely oblivious, grinned up at you, swinging her legs.

“Darlin’, I told y-“

Elvis didn’t even get to finish before Jerry leaned in, his voice low but urgent. “You might wanna hit the brakes before this train goes completely off the rails.”

In return, Elvis shot him a glare. “You think I don’t know that?”

Turning back to you, he forced a strained smile. “Now, sugar, what I meant was-“

“But you said-“

“I know what I said” Elvis cut in quickly, his voice tightening up with irritation.

Charlie decided to pour gasoline on the fire. “She’s got a point, E. You’re always braggin’ about how you know what women want.”

Elvis’s patience snapped. “Charlie, I swear to God…”

But you weren’t done. “And it makes sense, right? You said you know what men want, and if anyone can make me a woman, it’s you, Uncle Elvis!”

That was the final straw. The room went nuts, their laughter transforming into a strange mix of hiccuping, snorting, and wheezing. It sounded like a bunch of chickens getting spooked and a pack of turkeys doing their gobble thing, creating a total circus.

Elvis, however, didn’t find it funny.

“Alright, that’s enough!” he shouted. He slammed his hand on the table, making everyone jump. His face was bright red, and his eyes blazed with frustration. Every time he tried to speak, someone cut him off. His patience was gone.

The room quieted suddenly, giggles dying out in an instant. Lisa's attention snapped to her father, her eyes wide and glued to his face.

You shrank in your seat, your face red with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean anything bad” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Elvis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know you didn’t, sugar” he said, his voice softer but still firm. “But you can’t…you just can’t say things like that. Not like that. Not here.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you pushed your chair back. “I’m sorry” you said quickly, bolting from the room before anyone could stop you.

No one spoke. No one dared.

Elvis exhaled heavily, dragging a hand down his face. The men exchanged uneasy glances until Jerry finally broke the silence. “Well…that went south fast.”

Elvis shot him a warning look but remained silent.

Red smirked softly “E, this is just a taste of what’s comin’. Wait till Lisa’s her age. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

Elvis glanced at Lisa, who had returned to her cereal as if nothing had happened.

“Lisa” he said tiredly, “finish your breakfast. And behave when you get older, ya hear me?”

Lisa looked up at him, confused but obedient. “Okay, Daddy” she replied, taking another bite.

As soon as breakfast was over, Elvis let out a quiet curse before standing abruptly and leaving the table.

He made his way upstairs, pausing outside your door to knock softly.

“Darlin’? You in there?”

No response. He hesitated, then turned the doorknob.

The room was empty.

Elvis’s stomach sank as he scanned the hallway, his worry mounting.

“Jerry!” he called with sharp voice. “Get everyone. She’s gone.”

You ran down the driveway of Graceland, your feet pounding on the hot pavement. As you neared the end, the city of Memphis sprawled out before you, alive with activity, a sea of unknown but filled with the promise of answers.

You didn’t stop. Not when the air burned your lungs, not when the weight of this morning’s turmoil pressed against your chest. You weaved through pedestrians.

Finally, the library stood before you.

You pushed open the doors, stepping into the cool, hushed space. “If no one’s gonna help me” you muttered under your breath, determination settling in your bones. “I’ll find out myself.”

Some time later, Elvis was behind the wheel of his Cadillac, the engine roaring as it crawled down the streets of Memphis. His knuckles were tight on the steering wheel. Jerry sat in the passenger seat, glancing anxiously between Elvis and the road ahead.

“E, you’ve been drivin’ in circles for an hour”

Elvis ignored him, his sharp blue eyes inspecting the sidewalks. “She couldn’t have gone far” he muttered.

Jerry sighed. “Look, maybe she just needed some air. She’s not gonna do anything crazy.”

“You didn’t see the way she looked when she left that table, Jerry. I snapped at her, and she ran off feelin’ like she’s got no one to talk to. Hell, I wouldn’t stick around after that, either.”

Jerry leaned back, crossing his arms. “She doesn’t know what she’s doin’. She just needs to cool off, and so do you.”

Elvis didn’t answer. He slowed the car as they passed the library, something catching his eye. He squinted at the front doors.

“There” he said suddenly, pulling over to the curb with a screech.

Jerry craned his neck. “You think she’s in there?”

Elvis didn’t reply. He threw the car into park, climbed out, and strode toward the library doors, his pace quick but steady. Jerry hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh, shoved his hands into his pockets, and leaned against the car, eyes fixed on the library doors.

You were still flipping through books, growing more and more stressed. Your fingers trembled as you picked up another, then another, the words on the pages blurring together in your frustration.

“What’s all this about?”

The deep, familiar voice made you freeze. You looked up to see Elvis standing at the end of the aisle, his hands on his hips, his eyes fixed on you.

You sighed, guilt and relief flooding your face.

Elvis walked closer, crouching down so he was eye level with you. His gaze softened when he saw the pile of books around you, and the frustration written all over your face. “What are you doin’ in here, honey? You had us all worried.”

You glanced down at the book in your hands, fidgeting with the corner of the page. “I just…I thought maybe the library would help. My parents always said books have the answers, but none of these books explain anything about…”

“About what?” Elvis asked gently, his tone calm and patient now.

You hesitated, then blurted out, “About how to be a woman. I thought if no one was gonna help me, I’d figure it out myself. But these books don’t make sense!”

He glanced at the titles around you, understanding dawning on his face. “Sugar,” he said softly, “you don’t need no books for that.”

You looked up at him, your eyes glossy with tears. “Then how am I supposed to learn? I just…I want to understand what I’m supposed to do, what I’m supposed to be.”

Elvis let out a long breath, sitting down on the floor beside you, leaning his back against the bookshelf. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared down at the books scattered around you.

“Listen to me, darlin’” he said finally, his voice low and steady. “There ain’t no book out there that’s gonna tell you how to be a woman. That’s somethin’ you figure out on your own, little by little.”

“But I don’t even know where to start” you said, your voice small.

Elvis reached out, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder, making you look at him. “I’ll help ya, honey, as best as I can. But don’t go running off thinking you’re on your own.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and you sniffled, nodding. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I know you didn’t” he said, his voice soft. “And I didn’t mean to snap at you. That’s on me, sugar. M’sorry.”

You nodded again, the tension in your chest starting to ease. Elvis stood, brushing off his pants, and extended a hand to you.

“C’mon” he said with a small smile. “Let’s get you back home. You got the whole house worried about ya.”

The rest of the day, you felt a little more at ease.

For the first time in a long while, you felt supported. Like maybe… you weren’t so alone after all.

Even so, when night fell, sleep wouldn’t come.

You tossed and turned, kicking off the blanket, pulling it back on again, but nothing helped. Your mind wouldn’t settle.

Finally, with a sigh, you pushed back the covers and slipped out of bed. You hesitated at the doorway.

You still felt a little uncomfortable moving around on your own in a house that wasn’t yours. Everything felt too big, too unfamiliar, too grand. But waking someone up? That felt even worse.

So, you forced yourself forward.

Graceland was different at night. The house was silent, dimly lit, wrapped in shadows. The soft white carpet felt cool under your bare feet.

When you reached the kitchen, you traced your fingers along the cabinets, finding the fridge by touch alone. The soft glow illuminated the space as you pulled it open.

Carefully, you poured the milk and warmed it up the way your mother used to.

The moment the warmth hit your fingertips, you sighed, finally feeling something familiar. Something that felt safe.

You were ready to take that first, much-needed sip, and then you realized you weren’t alone.

Leaning against the counter, watching you, stood Elvis. His robe was hanging loosely, and his hair was messy, making him look different.

Finally, he spoke.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was low, rough from the lateness of the hour.

You shook your head, “You either?” still gripping your glass.

Elvis let out a quiet huff, lifting the drink in his hand slightly. “I don’t do much of that these days.”

You hesitated, shifting slightly before finally stepping toward the counter, perching on one of the stools. You suddenly felt small in the space, small in his presence.

Elvis’s gaze flickered over you, noticing something, thinking, but keeping it to himself. He took a slow sip of his drink before exhaling through his nose.

“I told you I’d teach you a few tips, and I meant that” he murmured, his voice steady. “But I think you already learned the first lesson on your own.”

You frowned slightly. “What lesson?”

Elvis leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter.

“You had initiative to do what your heart wanted” he said. “You made a decision for yourself, without anyone tellin’ you what to do.” A small smirk touched his lips. “And… you’re willin’ to change. That’s admirable, sugar.”

A warm feeling curled in your chest.

Elvis wasn’t the kind of man who gave compliments easily, not the ones that mattered.

But just as the moment started to feel too heavy, too serious.

He suddenly leaned back, stretching slightly.

“Ah, and also” he added, pointing at you, “you’re grounded for escapin’.”

You nearly choked on your milk. “What?!”

Elvis smirked, taking another sip of his drink. “Yeah. Sorry, young lady, but I gotta stick to it.”

“You don’t even ground people!”

“I do now” he said, chuckling. “First time for everything.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “This is so unfair.”

Elvis just shook his head, his laughter soft but real.

The moment softened, and for a second, it almost felt normal again.

Then, you studied him a little closer. His face wasn’t guarded like it usually was. He seemed… different.

“You look different at night,” you said out of nowhere, tilting your head.

Elvis raised a brow, smirking slightly. “That so?”

You nodded, taking a sip of your milk. “Yeah. You seem… I don’t know. Less like ‘Elvis Presley’ and more like… just you.”

Elvis exhaled a short laugh, shaking his head. “Darlin’, I don’t even know what ‘just me’ is anymore.”

You frowned, watching him carefully. “Well… I think you’re the best person I know.”

That made him stop.

His fingers tensed subtly around his glass. His lips parted slightly, as if he was about to speak, but then he hesitated. He had spent years battling to separate the man from the artist, struggling for people to see the difference between who he was and who they expected him to be. But you were too young to understand the weight of that fight, and he wasn’t about to launch into a speech. Instead, he swallowed the thought, keeping it to himself.

You didn’t know why, but you wanted him to believe you. So you continued.

“I…I think you’re kind, and funny, and you make everyone feel safe. And I don’t think people tell you that enough.”

Elvis stared at you, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.

His blue eyes flickered in the dim light, studying your face. Then, before you could think, his hand lifted, fingers grazing along your cheek.

“Appreciate it, darlin’”he said, his smile warm and sincere.

The touch was light, barely there, but it sent a strange feeling through you.

It was warm. It was soft. It made something deep in your stomach flutter in a way you didn’t understand.

You looked up at him, your breath hitching slightly. He was so tall, and his hand seemed enormous compared to your face.

Elvis seemed to realize how you were reacting to what he had just done.

His hand lingered just a second too long, his thumb brushing the corner of your jaw, before he suddenly pulled away like if the surface was burning, clearing his throat.

Elvis shifted, suddenly looking tense, uncomfortable. He ran a hand through his hair, reaching for his drink like he needed something to do.

You swallowed, confused by the strange feeling left behind.

The athmosphere in the kitchen felt heavier now. Different.

Elvis downed the rest of his drink in one go and turned his back to you.

“Alright, honey” he said, voice tighter now, forced into something lighter. “Time for bed.”

You hesitated, still feeling the ghost of his touch on your skin.

But finally, you nodded.

“Okay.”

You slid off the stool, heading for the doorway.

Elvis didn’t turn around.

As you walked back to your room, you weren’t sure what had just happened.

You didn’t know why your heart was beating too fast.

You didn’t know why your skin still felt warm.

And you didn’t know why as soon as the door clicked shut behind you…

Elvis let out a long, sharp breath and muttered under his breath, “Shit.”

Part 3 here!

Tag: @iloveelvisss

[elvisbooty76]

[hooked-on-elvis]

"ELVIS ON TOUR" (1972)

GIFS — OPENING AND ENDING SCENES

[sissylittlefeather]

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! 🩷🩷🩷

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Taglist:

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

[wanderingelvis]

Hi, I really loved your headcanons for how Elvis would talk about an innocent reader to his friends, and I was wondering if you could write an imagine or short fic going more in depth on the mafia guy's not-so-pure feelings for the reader?

I love this suggestion, I hope what I've written is okay - not been feeling the most confident in my work lately! 🧚

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Everything always manages to fly right over your pretty little head

Dirty jokes, condescending comments, telling looks

Even when someone has to sit you down and explain to you what's going on, sometimes you just still won't understand

Even though you try to understand, sometimes you'll nod along with wide eyes and those pouty lips, at everything that's being said just to try and seem like you're convincing someone, anyone

But it's what makes you utterly adorable to Elvis

And to the rest of the Memphis Mafia

You're so goddamn clueless and innocent that you instantly make anyone with a bit more knowledge than you feel special

You'll cling to them, ask them questions, listen to every word they have to say and try and understand it

And you'll make them feel like they're the most important person in the world to you at that moment

And goddamn, that's an addictive feeling for any man to feel

So it only made sense when Elvis moved you into Graceland with him and you became Elvis' little darling

And the Memphis Mafia's little darling by default

They're all infatuated with you in some way

And Elvis knows

He knows that he's got the prettiest, sweetest, most adorable little thing in the world

So he knows he ain't gonna be the only one to be blown away by you

There's a policy of "look but don't touch" when it comes to you

For no reason, other than your safety, should any of the Mafia try to get handsy with you

But oh boy, do they dream about it

They know better though, they know how possessive and protective Elvis is of you

"I catch any one of you fellas tryin' it on with my Y/N and I swear there'll be goddamn hell to pay."

Elvis tells them on afternoon

You never notice the stares from all of the men

Or the looks they exchange with each other whenever you twirl around or bend over slightly too much and your pretty little panties become exposed

And whilst as a collective, they intimidate many

How else did they get the name, 'Memphis Mafia'?

They don't intimidate you

No, in fact, you'll sit by Sonny all night during a poker game, having him explain the rules and help you with your hand

You'll ask him questions like he's the best poker player in the world all night

And he'll feel incredible because of it

You'll babble and babble at him with questions and he has to try and not laugh as he finds it just so endearing how clueless you are

But how totally determined you are to be able to play with all of the men

And when you play a great hand at the poker game because of Sonny's help, all of the big, old men will suddenly shower you with praise, making you blush and get all nervous and shy at the onslaught of attention

"Atta girl!"

Sonny will chuckle

And you giggle that angelic giggle and give Sonny a hug, thanking him for his help

Only for Sonny to be aware of the unspoken and invisible policy that hangs over your head and he catches Elvis' eye from across the poker table, and he's watching you and Sonny like a hawk

"Why don't you go show EP what you did, hey hon?"

Sonny will suggest, letting you run to Elvis who smiles warmly at you, and engulfs you in a cuddle

A cuddle that makes you feel practically giddy with delight as he effortlessly brings you onto his lap, holding your tummy with his strong arm, keeping you in place

"My clever girl."

Elvis coos in your ear as you sit in his lap, making you smile bashfully and squirm about

Many of the Mafia members watch Elvis' interactions with you and whilst they wouldn't admit it, they were jealous

So goddamn jealous

Wishing it was their laps that you would settle in

That it was the rings on their fingers that you'd absent-mindedly play with when the men were talkin' about things you couldn't understand

Wishing it was them that would end up taking you upstairs and undress you

That it would be them that you'd giggle to as they kissed your body all over

That it would be them that would fuck you endlessly and they'd hear your sweet little cries and moans all night long

Only for you to say thank you at the end

Because you're such a good girl

But it isn't them that gets to experience that, and it never will be

It's Elvis, it's always Elvis

He has your heart

But the members of the Memphis Mafia will settle for having even just a conversation with you

Because even if Elvis has you, at least they have their sinful thoughts of you

[doll-elvis]

MARTY LACKER : “I'll tell you something about Elvis. If he watched a football game on TV, he wore a helmet. He dressed for every occasion. If he watched guys on TV riding motorcycles, he would have his motorcycle helmet on. You'd walk in and it looked funny. I mean, you walk in, he's sitting there with a football helmet on. You’d say, ‘Good lord, Elvis, what are you doing?’. He’d say, ‘I'm watching the game'”

quote from “Friends remember Elvis Presley” on the Larry King show

[dailyallthingsjerryschilling]

Attending George Klein's Wedding.

[sergeantelvis]

"I'm Sorry"

SUMMARY: After following Elvis throughout his career and being there for him, he seems to forget what's most important... you.

warning: ANGST, hurt to comfort?, shouting, miscommunication, insecurity.

A/N: This is my first ever post on Tumblr I've been on here a while so I thought why not give a shot at writing, please keep in mind English isn't my first language :)

Pairing: Elvis x reader (can also be Austin elvis!)

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As the sun set over Memphis, the vibrant city whispered tales of heartache and passion. Among the countless souls navigating the streets, a young woman could be found strolling the dimly lit pathways with what seemed to be a small frown perched upon her face.

That woman also happened to be one of the worlds most talked about people in this current moment, yet she felt like she was the only one talking and no one was listening. That woman was who teenage girls could only dream to be, yet she didn't want to be herself in the very moment. Why would she?

Today was supposed to be different she told herself, he would actually remember, she really tried to believe her own husband would be there to support her during one of the biggest achievements of her life, just like she had done for him the last seventeen years. You see she had been there for him through all walks of life, since he was a tiny little blonde haired ray-of-sunshine and when he dyed his hair black and decided to switch up his style, she was there. And he couldn't even show up for one stupid court-case?

God she felt pathetic, she knew he wouldn't come, so why did she think this time it would be any different. But what could she do? She was Mrs Presley, and thats all people would see her as. As she walked along she moonlit streets she became more wary that she had been pushed aside by her husband, she had made a fool of herself letting him walk around with his wedding band off and acting like a single man with women surrounding him. People warned her about marrying Elvis but she would never listen to them because he was her Elvis and no one knew him like she did, and for a while that was true... until it wasn't.

Her beautiful Navy suit had been especially picked out for this trail, hoping that people would see her, hoping that He would see her. Thoughts swirled in her mind as she tried to process why she had let herself go so far as to have to beg for his attention, she was not some groupie he had picked up from his concerts or some teenaged fan that adored his music, she was his wife.

And she had enough.

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The night air clung to her like a heavy shroud as she approached the hallowed gates of Graceland. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale glow over the sprawling estate that had once been her sanctuary. But tonight, it felt more like a prison.

The grand entrance of Graceland loomed ahead of her, its ornate ironwork giving way to a long, winding driveway. As she ventured further in her green Beatle, the faint sound of music reached her ears, weaving its way through the evening breeze. Laughter, muffled and distant, hinted at a revelry she was not a part of.

Stepping across the threshold she had first hesitated towards, she entered the foyer. Dimly lit chandeliers bathed the room in a warm, golden glow, casting intricate patterns onto the polished marble floor. The air was thick with the mingling scents of expensive perfume and the anticipation of a vibrant gathering, yet it only deepened her pit of despair that was building inside of her.

Through the open doorways, she glimpsed the living room, ablaze with colour and movement. Lavish gold accented decorations adorned the walls, reflecting the vibrancy of the party within. The room seemed pulse with energy, the laughter and voices of the guests hanging in the air like an invisible veil.

In the midst of the festivities, Elvis stood at the centre, a star among the crowd. His charismatic smile drew people to him, their adoration evident in their eyes, but as her own guys met his, he remained transfixed by the merriment, not even batting an eyelid in her direction.

Her heart sank the steps, becoming slow and weighted with the sorrow she could no longer bear. She carved attention, his understanding of this passing sea of celebration. She appeared to be nothing more than a ghost existing in the peripheral of his attentions.

There, at the centre of the circle of vibrant guested, Elvis, his charm radiating like an Ethereal light. He was locked in at dance of words with a fan Her face flashed with the light basked on his attention. She observed the ease with which he engaged in stranger, his smile more genuine than she had seen in months.

The woman's voice, light and melodious, carrying hints of infatuation as she flirted shamelessly with Elvis. Hello, after accompanied by the soft music in the background seem to melt with the rhythm of his wife's own shattered heart. She could hardly fathom have someone. He didn't even know how to more sway over him, and she is devoted wife.

As she watched her husband, his eyes, twinkling with amusement, she felt an indescribable pain gnaw at her chest. She had dedicated her life to him, bent over backwards to keep their love and life. I need to find herself reduced to an inconsequential presences.

As she leaned against the wall, her tears subsiding, but her pain still palpable. Elvis's eyes flicker towards her. His eyes lingered for a moment before realisation, dawned on him, and with Swift footsteps, he crossed the room to reach her side.

"Hey, baby," He drawled, attempting to dismiss the intensity of the scene, she had just witnessed. His voice infused, with a southern twang still sent shivers down the spine, had once been the balm to her weary soul, but now it only served as a reminder of the golf at grown between.

Her eyes, once filled with love and admiration, now held a mix of sadness and anger. She took a deep breath, collecting the fragments of her resolve, before confront the man she had given her heart to all those years ago.

"You've missed my court case, my own battles and achievements, all while you were caught up in this whirlwind of adoration from strangers," She finally blurted out.

Elvis blinked, his azure eyes mirroring the confusion in his voice. "Satnin? Why didn't you say anything?" He cooed, attempting to soothe her. "You know I've got a lot on my plate."

The word "Satnin" would have once brought a smile to her face, an endearment she cherished, due to Elvis's late mother Gladys who was her second mother growing up in the small area of Tupelo. She shook her head, causing her locks to cascade around her like a waterfall of frustration.

"How can you think we are okay?" She exclaimed, her voice quivering. "

"Elvis, I can't help but feel pushed aside. It's not just about this one encounter; it's about so much more. You've missed my court case, countless family dinners, and it feels like our connection has dwindled to empty conversations. I've been left here, alone, while you bask in the adoration of fans."

Elvis's brow furrowed in confusion as he attempted to grasp the gravity of her words. He had been so immersed in his own world that he failed to recognize the depth of her emotional turmoil. "Satnin, I didn't realize you were feeling this way. I've just been caught up in the whirlwind of fame. Ya know it's not personal, right?"

y/n's frustration simmered beneath her surface, threatening to erupt like a dormant volcano. "How can it not feel personal, Elvis? We used to be each other's entire world. Now, I'm just an accessory on the fringes of your life while you play the role of the adored superstar."

Elvis's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and offense clouding his features. He tried to interject, but her pent-up emotions poured out like a torrential rainstorm, unable to be contained any longer.

"You think this is all about my support? It's not about that, Elvis! It's about feeling invisible, unappreciated, and alone. I've offered my unwavering support, but what have I received in return? Empty promises and missed moments. Is this how our love is supposed to be?"

A flicker of realization darted across Elvis's face, but his natural stubbornness lingered. "Satnin, I've been trying my best, but I can't be in two places at once. This music, these fans, they're a part of me. You knew that when we got married."

Her voice reached a crescendo, her frayed patience snapping under the weight of Elvis's dismissive attitude. "I didn't expect you to choose, Elvis. But I did anticipate that you would make an effort to make me feel like a priority in your life. Instead, I feel like I'm a distant second to the screaming crowds that cheer you on night after night."

Elvis, his patience waning, raised his voice in frustration. "Listen, baby, I have responsibilities, commitments. This is the life I've chosen. Can't you understand that?"

She gritted her teeth, her frustration boiling over. "Understand? I understand that you're using your fame as an excuse to neglect your responsibilities as a husband. You blame me for not understanding, but what about the countless nights I've spent alone, waiting for you? What about the promises you've made and broken?"

Elvis's expression turned defensive, his charm morphing into frustration. "You're being unreasonable, Y/N. I can't be at your beck and call all the time; I have a career to manage."

Y/N's voice trembled with anger. "Unreasonable? You have the audacity to call me unreasonable? All I wanted was a partner, someone who would be there for the important moments, to listen and support me. But you're too wrapped up in your own fame to even notice."

Elvis's obstinacy overshadowed any semblance of understanding. His tone hardened as he lashed out, trying to deflect his own guilt. "Maybe it wouldn't feel so empty if you were more supportive, if you understood the sacrifices I have to make!"

Her patience snapped, her voice resonating with a mix of fury and hurt. "Sacrifices? Where do my sacrifices fit into this equation? I've sacrificed my dreams, my desires, to support you, to be the wife you needed. And all I ask for in return is a fraction of your attention, your time."

Elvis and Y/N stood face to face in their lavish Memphis mansion. The room crackled with tension as their argument escalated, both parties unwilling to back down. Her eyes were brimming with tears, reflecting her hurt and frustration, while Elvis stubbornly refused to see his faults.

"You just don't understand, Y/N! I give you everything, I give you this beautiful home, luxurious cars, and all the fame you could ever want. Why are you so miserable?" Elvis exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief.

Y/n took a deep breath, trembling with the weight of her emotions. She knew this was her moment to speak her truth and reveal the depth of her pain. "Elvis, material possessions and fame aren't enough for me. I want emotional connection, intimacy, and a partner who truly understands me. But lately, it feels like I'm living in your shadow. You're so consumed with yourself that you've forgotten about our marriage."

Elvis's eyes widened, struck by her heartfelt words. For the first time, he began to truly comprehend the gravity of his actions. "But Baby, I don't mean to neglect you. I love you more than anything. How can I make it right?" His voice wavered, a mix of desperation and regret seeping through his words.

Her gaze softened, her love for Elvis still evident despite the pain she felt. "It's not just about apologies, Elvis. It's about changing your behavior, showing me every day that I matter to you. I can't keep living like this, always feeling secondary to your career."

A mixture of guilt and sadness washed over Elvis as he realized the damage he had caused in their marriage. He reached out, gently cupping Y/Ns face in his hands. "Baby, I never intended to hurt you. I know my words haven't always been kind, but you're the center of my world. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm truly sorry."

The air hung heavy with silence as she contemplated his words. She searched his eyes, seeking a sign of sincerity. Slowly, she nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Elvis, I want to believe that you mean it, but forgiveness doesn't come easy. We need time to heal, to rebuild the trust that has been shattered."

Elvis nodded, his heart sinking as he realized the consequences of his actions. They moved towards the hallway, away from prying eyes, their voices lowering to whispers. "Mama, please don't leave me. I can't imagine my life without you. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

She looked into his eyes, her pain alongside her love for him evident. "Elvis, the road to forgiveness will be long and arduous. I need you to understand that. It will take more than just words to mend what's been broken. We both have work to do."

Elvis took a trembling breath, feeling the weight of his past mistakes. He gently squeezed her hand, a solemn vow crossing his lips. "I promise you, Satnin, I'll do whatever it takes. I'll be a better husband, a better man. Just please, don't give up on us."

As they stood there, enveloped in the intimacy of their private moment, Elvis and Y/N knew that the journey ahead would not be easy. But their love, their shared history, and the desire to rebuild what was lost provided a glimmer of hope. Their path to healing had just begun, one step at a time.

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A/N: I got a bit carried away! But I'm also looking to make more friends in the Tumblr/Elvis community and would love to follow people or have proofreaders :) thank you <33

[rosepresley68]

Elvis + You + Memphis Mafia = Chaos 2

Hello everyone, I hope you had a great day, here are some other thoughts that come to mind. I hope you enjoy them. 🥰❤️

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Jerry: And how is married life going?

(Y/N): Okay, I guess, yesterday some of the guys went out drinking, and you know Elvis isn't a big drinker, but last night he drank quite a bit.

Jerry: Oh no, what did he do?

(Y/N): Well, I try to set our marriage certificate on fire saying "GOOD LUCK TRYING TO RETURN ME WITHOUT A RECEIPT!"

Jerry: Why am I not surprised?

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Jerry: One night in Las Vegas, I was really drunk, and I married my best friend.

Elvis: (Y/N) and Charlotte are still upset, but it seems like a good idea at the time.

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(Y/N): —Look at Elvis—

Elvis: Don't look too much, lest you fall in love. —Smile flirtatiously—

(Y/N): —smiles— I don't think it's a problem.

*MOMENTS LATER*

(Y/N): —Kick the Graceland door— THERE'S A FUCKING PROBLEM!

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Elvis: Baby, I feel like we're growing apart.

(Y/N): I'm literally on the other side of this couch. Come here.

Elvis: Can't you come?

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(Y/N): I guess I have a slight tendency to criticize a little.

Jerry: You guess?!

Elvis: Slight?!

Red: Tendency?!

Sonny: A little?!

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Elvis: Alright, you're all exaggerating. (Y/N) is not in love with me.

Coronel: Yes, she is.

Vernon: Yes, she is.

Memphis Mafia: Yes, she is.

(Y/N): Yes, I am.

[ladelinee]

Little killer

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

Wordcount: 2,7K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. And blinked again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your breath hitched.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[elvisbooty76]

[hooked-on-elvis]

Those are absolutely two of my favorite pictures of Elvis. Of course I like the details and all the info I can get on the pictures. One thing I have to say is that in that moment Elvis was in his 7th season at the International Hotel in Las Vegas (August 4th - September 4th 1972), and it was the first time he brought Linda Thompson to accompany him during the concerts (prior to that she had only accompanied Elvis during rehearsals in July). You can imagine how jealous I am of her because, well, just look at Elvis! 🫠🥲 Anyway, here's a little story about the fans with Elvis in those pictures:

Las Vegas, NV. Monday, August 28, 1972. Elvis with two Italian fans. The woman is Nicla Crippa and the man was the President of the Italian fan club, his name is Livio Monari. Livio Monari started the Italian FC in 1962. Together with Nicla Crippa, a personal friend and member of his Fan Club, they met Elvis just after the Midnight show on 26th August 1972. Photos taken that day didn't come out, so they asked to see Elvis again... to have new ones taken on the 28th August (2nd meeting) which are the ones shown above. They had just attended the Dinner & Midnight shows on the 28th Aug: when a waiter approached them - that Elvis was waiting for them.

Nicla said the following about the meeting:

1972 was a special year for me, I picked up all my saving of a year and together with Livio Monari at that time president of the E.P.F.C. of Italy, I flew to Las Vegas in August to see Elvis performing. When we arrived we were so excited that we started immediately to ask anybody of Elvis entourage if we could meet Elvis, crook Col. Parker was at a gambling table with his cigar and he said very rude "NO, you cannot met Elvis", then Joe Esposito who said No too, and when I told him "Hey Joe you are Italian like us" he answered "I'm not Italian, I was born in Chicago" very rude too... until I saw the name of Emilio Muscelli on an office door, I knocked and entered and I said with all my 18 years old enthusiasm (in fact I was not yet 18, I would have turned 18 on December 30) "Hi Emilio, we are Italians and we are here to see Elvis concerts and meet him"... well he took it good to his heart and from that point on he treated me like his daughter - he was 50 years old. We saw 14 concerts in 7 days and we met Elvis TWICE, the first time on August 26 but the pictures Joe Esposito took with Livio's camera did not come out as Livio due the emotion charged an already used film in the camera... the second time on August 28, this time we called a professional photographer to take the 2 pictures to be sure. When I saw Elvis the first time coming out of his dressing room I ran towards him and I almost jumped on him, I hugged and kissed him and he returned the hugs and kisses to me and he asked me "Hey baby how old are you" I answered "18" and he said "And you came all the way from Italy just to see me?" "Yes Elvis" and he "Oh baby..." and he hugged me again very tight. We stayed with him for 15 minutes, we gave him a trophy we brought from Italy unfortunately we have no picture of Elvis with our trophy but I saw it at Graceland Trophy Room in 1987. He wrote a dedication to me, and one to Livio, on 2 LPs we brought with us, he gave us a yellow scarf each, but especially I held his right hand in my hands for a long time, and he did not withdraw it, on the contrary he caressed my hands. He was such a gentle, sweet and tender person, he made us feel at ease and he slowed down speaking English as at that time I could not speak English well. We asked "when will you come to Europe?" he said looking at Joe "I definitely wanna go, after a project I have for January 1973 (Aloha from Hawaii) I'll ask Parker to organize a tour to Europe". The night after Emilio gave us seats in the first row, Elvis saw me from stage and he stooped down and he put a red scarf around my neck... and on August 28 we met him again same place backstage and he said "Hey you are still here, good", he had such a sense of humour. Those 2 meetings with Elvis still are the best moments of my life!

Credits: elvis-collectors.com

[alienelvisobsession]

Jerry Schilling Appreciation Society

I just finished Jerry’s book (Me and a Guy Named Elvis) and oh my god, he’s the bestest friend. Unlike many others who wrote books about Elvis, he’s very tactful and respectful. His love for E is obvious and sincere, but it’s not just that. He seems to be just a very good person: honest, insightful and introspective. He doesn’t bad-mouth anybody, not even the people who didn’t like him. I loved reading about his shenanigans with E, like going to see Nixon or the taco contest they had in Hawaii! Oh and also, he’s hot, ya know?

Jerrah is love. ❤️ Let’s take a moment to appreciate hunka Jerry.

[wanderingelvis]

Hi, So can you do one with innocent reader where like she meets the mafia for the first time and they ask her sexual questions but she like wtf.

I love this!! I love interactions with the Mafia! Thank you for the request, enjoy! 🧚🏻

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

word count: 1,448

pairing: elvis x female!reader

warnings: mention of religion and sex

You were spending time in Elvis' lavish hotel suite with Elvis and the Mafia as you all took a break from the constant and relentless routine of shows. You'd just joined them all on the road as a backing singer and Elvis had taken an instant liking to you. You were docile and compliant, happy to do whatever he, or anyone else, wanted. He loved that he could mold you into whatever he wanted without taking away from your bubbly little personality.

You liked Elvis too, he never really pushed your limits like your singing coach would or some of the executives on the tour would. He was a safe haven. However, the same couldn't really be said for his entourage, the Memphis Mafia. It's not that you didn't like them, you just figured they didn't like you. You were quiet, reserved and shy and they were all the entire opposite of that. 

They hadn't really bothered to interact with you much either, they would barely even glance your way usually. Little did you know that they knew better than to speak to you. You were Elvis' little girl only.

Right now, you were busy telling Elvis all about how excited you were at the prospect of performing at a local carnival show, that it might be your biggest audience yet and that you were nervous but eager to do it.

"Pretty girl like you is gonna have all the boys and men flocking to you after that little show you give 'em. But I bet you're already used to that." Elvis mused, brushing away a curl of hair that had fallen in front of you face.

"Well, no actually." You said, oblivious the eyes staring down at her from one of the most famous men in the world, as well as his entourage.

"No?"

"No boy back home would even wanna come near me, they were all scared of my Momma," You softly giggled, remembering all the times your mother would practically bark at a boy that even looked in you direction. It had always been embarrassing and you were still terrified of crossing your mother.

"Wait, hang on a minute," A voice interrupted, you followed the sound and you were met with Sonny West, who was sitting on the couch opposite you, drinking whisky and smoking his cigar, listening in on the tales you were telling Elvis.

"So you've never...?" Sonny interrupted, taking a sip of his drink. You shook your head, sitting upright on the plush couch as Elvis walked over to the drinks table to pour himself and you a drink. "You're telling me, you've never even taken a mans fingers?" He said, clearly overstepping, but you were just a little confused.

You looked over to Elvis who was just watching the interaction play out, and gave you a reassuring nod. He knew that Sonny was prone to a drink or two and could get out of hand.

"Um... no, um, I don't think so." You said quietly.

"Fuck, tell me you've at least had your first kiss." Sonny said, cracking up at the idea of your lack of sexual history. You politely and sweetly stayed quiet, just shaking your head a little. Sonny's eyes widened when he realised you were being serious, laughing even more. When you looked over at Elvis, his eyes were dark and intense, trained just on you.

"Sonny." Elvis said sharply, but it went over Sonny's head. Elvis could see you were uncomfortable and he knew Sonny was being an ass.

"EP, c'mon!" Sonny said, before turning back to you. "You must be pretty glad you're in the Hollywood scene now then, eh kid? You'll get a guy and everything that comes with it with a bat of an eyelash." Sonny chuckled.

"M'not a prude, I just wanna save it all for when I'm married, I want it to be real special. My best friend, Patty, she's done it all and that's okay, I ain't gonna judge none," You insisted, you knew how liberal and carefree Hollywood was, you knew that you were surrounded by different lifestyles, you just didn't want anyone to think that you thought less of them for it, because you didn't. Sonny let out a booming laugh, causing everyone's heads to turn to him and your cheeks to flush, worried you'd said the wrong thing.

"Waiting until marriage? Honey, that's the most ridiculous thing I've heard in a long time, you're not eighty years old sweetheart." He patronised, chuckling to himself. You chewed on her lip a little, feeling a little stupid. "It's just what, um, m-my pastor says God wants." You said softly, crossing your arms to cover your chest a little, feeling insecure. You didn't really like all of the 'Mafia', you knew Jerry was nice and you could see why he was Elvis' favourite, but Sonny and Red weren't as friendly.

Sonny slapped his thigh as he burst into more laughter. "I thought this generation were supposed to be all loving, what happened huh? God?! It's like my mother's here." He chuckled. "Woah now, if Y/N wants to wait for marriage, she ain't gotta justify it to you Sonny. Really, it ain't got a goddamn thing to do with you does it, Son?" Elvis said, almost menacingly, to his friend. "Why don't you go find somebody else to berate rather than picking on the little girl huh? Goes for all of you, get outta here." Elvis said, nodding at the door before sending you a wink, making a smile creep onto your face before you felt your cheeks get hot. Sonny's cheeks also flushed, embarrassed at being scolded by the Boss, but none of the Mafia wasted any time in getting out of the dressing room, leaving you and Elvis alone. "Sorry about Sonny, he likes to think his goddamn opinion is more important than it actually is." Elvis said gently, sitting back down next to his sweet girl, who was still sitting firmly upright, not relaxed in the slightest. You looked up at Elvis with confusion on your face and a furrowed brow, which Elvis thought was the cutest thing he ever did see. "D'ya think I'm silly?" You asked softly, worrying that maybe your admission might make Elvis think differently about you.

"I think you'd be silly if you rushed yourself and made yourself unhappy." Elvis comforted, making your shoulders stop tensing. You shot him a quick nervous smile.

"Just want it t'feel right." You mumbled, picking at your fingers.

"I know, I won't let them upset you again little one." Elvis promised, pulling you onto his lap effortlessly to give you a cuddle, the type of cuddle you loved having with Elvis.

You felt so comforted and looked after by Elvis, he could be surrounded by anyone and yet he'd ask one of the Mafia to find you because that's who he wanted. You weren't sure yet as to why, but you never complained, you loved being in his company.

As your mind wandered, thinking about all the ways that Elvis made you feel good, your eyes widened with an idea.

"Elvis?" You asked as he hummed in response. "Would you give me my first kiss now?" You asked shyly, nerves flooding your little body as you peered up at him to gauge his reaction.

Elvis studied your face before shaking his head. "Baby, you're not ready, you know that, don't ya?" Elvis cooed.

"I just-"

"I know sweetheart. But you're not ready for all of that, you're just lettin' Sonny's words get to ya." Elvis assured softly.

"I know." You said, feeling a little embarrassed and defeated, even if you knew that Elvis was right, he always knew what was best for you, better than you did at this point.

Elvis watched you and all he wanted to do was kiss you, rip your babydoll dress off you and fuck you senseless. He'd imagined it more times than he'd like to admit and he couldn't wait for the day that he'd finally be kissing your soft skin all over. He knew that that day would come, but he knew it would only live up to his expectations if you were ready, and he knew you weren't.

"How's about I make you a deal then, baby?" Elvis suggested, gently tilting your chin up so that you would be looking at him. "How's about, when you're absolutely sure you're ready, you come find me, and I'll give ya a kiss?" Elvis proposed.

You giggled a little at the idea, but you liked it. You didn't feel pressured, only looked after.

"'Kay." You said gently, another giggle leaving your lips.

The pair of you smiled at each other, each letting out little laughs and enjoying each others company as Elvis decided to count the days until he got his kiss.

[aliypop]

My Babe

Word Count: 2,123

Writers Note: My first hardcore smut fic y'all! Thank @sissylittlefeather and my Graceland Trip for this masterpiece! I hope you all like it!

Warning: SMUT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: It's 1971 and the Memphis Mob are hanging out in the TV room indulging in some delights of films until Mrs. Presley shows up.

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

Graceland 1971

The movie room had been a well-missed room. With Elvis on tour and his wife Cecelia home tending to Jesse and Elaine, he needed some time to hang out with his boys, the Memphis Mafia. Well, some of them, sitting in the mirror-tiled ceiling room, there was Joe, Jerry, Red, and Elvis, who was puffing on a cigarillo, the smell filling up the room burying itself deep into the carpet. But there was something else that the men were buried deep into the picture show on the projector. It was a porno that was lying around if you'd asked Elvis about it. It was just on the table when he'd gotten there. Usually, he'd hidden those things so the kids and his wife wouldn't find it.

"You ever do anything like that with C," Jerry asked as Joe and Red egged Elvis on for an answer, 

"It looks uncomfortable," Red commented, looking as the actors went on to do one of many positions 

"It is." He winked back, taking a long drag. 

"You're kidding?" Red questioned, but Elvis had that sly smile on his face that said everything without his lips moving, 

"E, you mean you've done that?!" Joe laughed as Elvis nodded,

"Pleasurable for her, though," Elvis smirked,

"Cece is a loud one..." Jerry mumbled as Red agreed.

"Listenin in gets you off or something?" Elvis glanced at Jerry,

"I've been on the plane with you two." Jerry smirked, "Not to mention. My God Niece and Nephew are what seven now?"

"You make a good point." Elvis rolled his eyes as his friends laughed at him. 

Coming down the stairs in her pink nightgown and heeled slippers were Cecelia. Though she'd never admit it, she always loved the mirrored ceiling staircase. Because it reminded her of the day they had first installed them and their "test" run view with them. Inching around the corner, Cecelia could hear the sounds of laughter and moans coming from the TV room. As she finally arrived, Cecelia tried not to hold in her laughter from the sight she saw. Cecelia tried to hold in her laughter as she heard Elvis and the boys had been in a heated debate.

"What'cha watching, boys?" 

Joe, Red, Jerry, and Elvis got quiet like little boys caught with their mother's lingerie magazines. 

"Mrs. Presley, We were uh!" Joe started out,

"How'd that even get up there?" Red laughed bashfully,

Jerry just stared at her as if he knew there was a setup of some kind. 

"B-Baby, you shouldn't be watchin this crap!" Elvis tried to find the remote to stop the movie. 

"Right, a lady like you shouldn't-"

"Well, of course not. After all, it's not like I wasn't the one who purchased it." Cecelia smirked as Elvis' eyes went wide, "Who'd you think bought it, surely not Red?" she smirked as Elvis glanced at her. The robe over her shoulders and the feverish hue on her tawny skin was she sending him a message.

"You're one dirty girl, C," Jerry commented,

"You just now figured that out." She chuckled as she sat on her husband's lap to watch the rest. Elvis could feel his pants getting tight and the blood rushing to his cock as her straps fell from her shoulders. 

"You should tell 'em to go," Cecelia whispered in his ear, her fingers in his sideburns. 

"But honey..."

"Elvis, I'm not wearing any panties... And not to mention, I've had to touch myself lately." 

"Mmm, is that so..." Cecelia nodded,

"Mhmm, dripping wet right now," her voice had a whimper in it. Elvis trailed his hand up her dress and in between her legs as he brushed a finger against her lips, slowly pulling his finger back from under. He had a boyish grin that was devilish.

"You know this was a great time, but-"

"E, you're not kicking us out!" Joe asked, "Jerry, it's getting good he's not kicking us out!"

"No, but I am, Joe, Red Jerry out!" Cecelia projected as they got up and scattered out,

"Bit rude, don't you think..." Elvis joked as she straddled him,

"Elvis Aaron Presley, I'm hot and bothered, and I need you to fuck me. None of that soft shit tonight, just pure grade-A sex." she pointed to the projector. Elvis touched her skin as it was feverish with lust, her body grinding on his thigh to get some friction. "

 Fuck baby, tell me what you need, baby."

"Uh- uh, you've... Ah~ been so bad, which means..." her body still grinding in a rhythm that was driving her on edge,

"Means what..." He shivered, feeling her wet slick through his pants

"You can't touch me til I say so." her breathing was getting thin, and her eyes were fluttering, 

" You ain't gonna last long, darlin." He whispered, bouncing his knee against her clit as she moaned louder, her hands on her breast as if she were trying to rip her own clothes off, 

"Elvis! Fa! Fa!Fa!" slipping the dress off her, he plunged his fingers deep inside her, massaging her G-spot as his other hand was around her breast, massaging and sucking on her nipple, giving it a bit of a nibble and tug as she erupted in a pleasurable scream. 

"What was that about til you say so?" Elvis smirked as he looked up at the ceiling. Her face was even more heavenly in its reflection. Lying her down on the couch, Elvis was between her thighs as he lapped at the bud of nerves with his tongue like a kitten needing milk. He wouldn't lie and say that this wasn't his favorite fruit he couldn't get from any store, but with his fingers and tongue deep in her pussy, he couldn't help but fall more in love with his wife, 

"ELVIS FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME!!!" was all he could hear in between her pulling his hair, glancing up she could see the sight that she'd forever have in her brain, Elvis between her thighs, eating like a man on death row, devouring her wet waters like a man who'd been thirsty for years, her legs squeezed around his head. But he didn't care. Elvis knew Cecelia was close to the light at the end of the tunnel. Watching as her eyes rolled back and legs shook, he'd begun to rub her lips and speed up his fingering and eating as she had soon squirted all over the couch.

"You okay, baby?'

"Mhmm."

"Good, cause I ain't done with you." zipping his pants, he took his cock out, stroking it some more to get it ready for Cecelia, who was now between his legs kissing his thighs as she focused all her attention on his pretty blue eyes. There was already loads of pre-cum on the tip, but Cecelia didn't mind. Her pretty lips were wrapped around the base as she bobbed her head to a steady rhythm. His head fell back on the couch as he looked up, almost finishing just from the sight of her on her knees, 

"Think you take it all down. baby." 

Cecelia nodded as she took a deep breath and deep throathed him. Her nose brushed against his balls as she massaged them with her free hand, 

"Fuck baby, you're doing so good." his hips sputtered as he got closer, "Mngh!" was the noise he made when he felt her swirling, her tongue in between his tip. It was as if she were sucking his soul from out of his cock. 

"Oh God!" his eyes rolled as he pumped thick streams of his cum down her throat, coating her tongue with a heavy amount of the nearly translucent fluid. 

"Open wide, baby." He commanded as she did so. "Good girl." he pulled her up, kissing her swollen lips. The two exchange their separate tastes with each other. 

Picking her up, he walked over to the bar. He had her facing forward toward the mirrors, "Look at yourself, baby. Is this what you want." He asked as she nodded, "Baby, I don't read head nods."

"Yes~" She moaned, feeling him slide his cock inside her slippery wet cavern. 

"Hold on tight." He ordered as he began a steady pace, her breast knocking into the yellow leather as his balls were knocking into her skin. Cecelia looked up, and she saw the fucked out look on her face. Mascara smudged, her eyes rolling back, and her curls ruffled up. 

"Look how sexed up you look, baby." he pulled her hair as he kept going, his pace faster, 

"Deeper! Harder, faster!" That was what she commanded until he pulled out and carried her to the wall towards the Jukebox, her legs straddled him as she was up against the wall, 

"Put me in darlin?" He asked as she did so, his hips driving into her as her nails dug into his back and her curses began to sound like sinful prayers. 

"OH GOD, ELVIS FUCK ME!"

"SHIT, you feel so good," he began to rut in her until he carried her back to the couch, 

"Ride me?"

"Like your name was Charro." She smirked as Elvis reached for his Cigarillo again, taking another drag from it as she slowly began to bounce herself on his cock, his hand giving her a nice smack on the ass, telling her to go faster, blowing the smoke away from her face. Elvis put it back in his mouth until he felt it missing. Cecelia was bouncing faster, and his cock was brushing up on that familiar spot she loved so much. Hanging from her mouth was his beloved Cigarillo taking a big drag from it she sat it down inside the astray as she kissed him passing the smoke to him as her tongue wrapped around his. Pulling away slowly Cecelia felt his hands on her cheeks as he pulled her into another kiss, when she pulled away she was then leaning back almost into the position of the bridge as he began to ram himself inside her, 

"Baby you're so... Fuck! Sexy!" 

"Does this turn you on?" her fingers fiddling with her sensitive clit as she kept riding him, he had begun to lick his thumb placing it there to give her more pleasure, 

"Yes oh God yes," he groaned as he kissed her neck and bit down. Changing the position Elvis was lying down as she was still going, her breast bouncing in his face, reaching to grab them he squeezed and pulled on them, 

"You know these are mine right?"

"All of me is baby."

"Good." He said both of them were breathing harder as the coil in her stomach was getting near, she could feel the hot sensation of his cum shoot inside her "as she collapsed on his, a grin on his face, 

"Come on Angel I know you got one more in you."

"El..." her eyes were glossy, but there she was on her knees his cock between her breast as she began to rub him down with them, with the tip would hit near her mouth she'd open and lick the pre-cum off him as she'd nearly slurped him down. 

"Baby more." his eyes caught sight of hers. The way the curve of her breasts simply drove him insane. He couldn't help but believe that he was the most blessed man to have his own pornstar hidden in his wife, 

"Can't get this kind of lovin from those movies, can you?" she smirked as Elvis shook his head,

"I can't read head nods, darlin." 

"N-N Oh fuck faster!" he growled as she blushed hard,

"Good boy," She smirked, peppering his cock with kisses and love bites, 

"Getting closer, sugar?"

"C-C- Cece!" he began to shake as ropes of cum decorated her perky breast, a laugh escaping her lips as Elvis blushed,

"Baby, I'm sorry I didn't mean to,"

"Shush... It was sexy..." taking her fingers as she licked some of it off, like frosting from a cake. 

"You give me fever doll. a hot blistering fever." he laughed. Walking down the hall he grabbed a towel and cleaned them both off as they were lying on the couch now watching the news. Elvis was buried deep inside her his hands on her waist as she took a nice big sigh,

"Hey, can I get my jacket..."

"Jerry, you're still here!" Cecelia blushed, popping up from behind the couch."

"I'll come back tomorrow." Jerry sighed,

"That makes two of us," Elvis smirked, kissing Cecelia.

"Elvis..."

"Yeah Jerry."

"Shut the hell up." He sighed. "And put some clothes on Cece!"Elvis and Cecelia laughed.

"Sheesh guess someone's been getting railed by life lately..." Cecelia mumbled.

"I heard that!"