#memphis mafia

[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]

[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

[hooked-on-elvis]

I'm shocked (not really, but it's shocking to hear this anyway) to learn that at some point in life Priscilla sued Marty Lacker for a money Elvis gave him. She dropped the lawsuit when Marty counterclaimed it. Marty says "She messed with the wrong guy, but she was trying to use me as a test case against the other guys. She is a lovely person."

(1) February 25-26, 1965: Elvis signing autographs for fans in Nashville while he was in town for the recording session for the "Harum Scarum" movie soundtrack. Marty Lacker is seen by Elvis' side.

YOUTUBE - INTERVIEW WITH MARTY LACKER BY JOE KREIN PART 3 (out of 4) (go to 30:00 to listen his story about the lawsuit by Priscilla)

Now, this is just my personal comments on this but for all I've learned about Marty Lacker so far I believe he had the best interests at heart concerning Elvis. He helped EP with his music career A LOT. The way he puts it, it seems he worried with Elvis' name in the business because: 1. Marty knew EP had so much to offer (as everybody else knew), so much talent to go to waste on unworthy movies and its soundtracks and on general commercially weak songs, and 2. I bet it wasn't funny to see people mocking his friend for the kind of music and movies Elvis was making. Marty, as well as some other Memphis Mafia guys, worried about Elvis' personal satisfaction and well-being for multiple reasons... maybe not all of them being selfless but I still believe they did care about Elvis as a friend and human being even if they had hidden interests and whatever was the nature of them.

Now, all of those guys (all the people) around EP were seeing him killing himself little by little while trying to numb the disturbing thoughts in his mind and the sorrow in his soul... they were witnessing all of the sad incidents happening over the years where Elvis would end up hurting himself or almost dead. Marty was one of the few people that would go against Colonel Parker when he convinced Elvis to try something new for his career, something that would end up giving Elvis a great refreshing moment in his life, something he was hoping for deep down but somehow couldn't imagine how to make it happen himself and the ones who were in the place to advice him were too busy with their own personal agendas to care about the King's aspirations for his career.

Marty was the one to manage getting Elvis into the American Sound studio (later at the Stax too), and Marty was also the one to recommend the Sweet Inspirations to work on Elvis' concerts. Just by that alone, ALONE, could you really think Marty deserved a lawsuit for a money Priscilla didn't even need? I mean, where is the gratitude to some of the close friends of the man she allegedly says she loved?

As he said in the same interview, Marty was no saint… he wasn't a leech either. There was a time when Elvis lent him some money and Marty paid him back some time later, so Elvis was deeply touched by it because normally no one would pay him back ever! That shows something, right?

Maybe I don't know enough yet because I'm relatively a new born in the Elvis fandom, and I absolutely don't agree with every statement I've listened/read coming from Marty but in general I see him as one of the good guys from the Memphis Mafia bunch. I mean, every story has two sides. Maybe Priscilla sued Marty after being counselled to do so by some lawyer she had, like she was when she decided take Elvis to the court again in 1973, asking for more money after the divorce settlement had been set in 1972 - and by this I mean she could've been convinced to sue Marty instead of having the idea herself, which at least would make things a little less awful. But any reason she had to do that, I mean... why? There's things in life we just don't do. Even if she didn't personally liked the guy (and we know from Elvis' friends the ones she really liked were Joe Esposito and Jerry Schilling), she had to admit Marty was a great contributor to the Elvis Presley estate from which she benefits until today. I think for all Marty did for Elvis' career it's reasonable to think that any money he could've borrowed from EP would have already made its way back into the Presley's bank account in other ways. Maybe a little bit of gratitude and respect to him wouldn't hurt. I mean, I'm not totally against Priscilla... in some ways I can understand her, I really can, but not on this. Not when it comes to her greediness.

I just wonder what would Elvis think.

(2) The Presley's wedding day, February 1, 1967. Marty with Elvis and Priscilla.

FURTHER INFO: On July 17 1973, "in the papers presented to the court Priscilla's new attorney seeks to set aside the original divorce settlement." - Excerpt from 'Elvis Day by Day' by Peter Guralnick and Ernst Jorgensen. Now in addition to what has been agreed on the August 1972 divorce settlement, from the 1973 new settlement Priscilla would also receive, among other things, Spousal support, additional $625,000 (in cash) to the original $100.000 agreed and 5% of Elvis' royalties.

[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

[rjmartin11]

Happy Birthday to Jerry Schilling! My favorite member of the Memphis Mafia!

[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!)

･♪’ﾟ｡.*#:･’ﾟ.:*♪:･’.:♪*:･’ﾟ♭.:*♪*:･’ﾟ♭.:*･♪’ﾟ｡.*#:･’ﾟ.:*♪:･’.:♪*:･

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.

[elvisangels]

𝐄𝐋'𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 is a twenty one+ Discord server that caters to Elvis fans ages 21 and up. If you're looking for a fun place to talk about Elvis as much as you want, share and recommend your favorite fanfics and meet new people, then our server is perfect for you !

We offer plenty of channels for different kind of topics, ofcourse Elvis related and non-Elvis related to find people with the same interests and talk about other favorite artists you might have, gaming, movies, travel, and more !

🤍 — 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑

PS. If you're part of the petty RP community, don't even try joining. You will be banned. 💋

[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]

[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.

[hooked-on-elvis]

How did Elvis took care of his awesome hair? 🚿🍃

Plus, a quick overview on one of the King's hairdressers and Memphis Mafia man, Larry Geller: How somewhat he was the friend Elvis needed and how Elvis' over-controlling inner circle banned Geller from their surroundings for a while.

I was actually looking if I could find Elvis' haircut name - precisely the type of haircut he had on the '68 Comeback Special and "Charro!" (1968), since I'm a girl and I have zero idea about the names for male haircuts but I just love that haircut he had so much I wanted to talk about it... anyway. But I found an article about Elvis' hair care routine and that sounds very interesting to me, so it might be something you wanna know too.

This is told by Larry Geller, so this means this was Elvis' hair routine starting from mid 60's on, precisely from 1964 to 1967, and possibly also from late 1972 to 1977 *, periods in which Larry was responsible for taking care of the King's hair.

Geller, who will be launching his own line of organic hair products later this year, tested out some of his first custom mixes on Elvis. “I used to go to the health food store and get a benign base shampoo and get some vitamin capsules and pour 99 percent pure aloe vera and other herbs into it, and shake it up,” Geller tells Yahoo Beauty. “That’s what I used on Elvis’ hair. He said to me, right from the get-go, ‘You can do whatever you want with my hair, but one thing — make sure I keep it!’” Source: Yahoo Beauty: Elvis Presley’s Hairstylist Spills the King’s Secrets by Lilit Marcus. The article was shared on a Graceland's website on January 28, 2014.

Elvis, you're the best, man. LOL. Just that comment is worth this entire post. It made me laugh. But the article goes on.

Then there was the daily routine. “I shampooed his hair regularly, usually every day. I would massage his scalp for a few minutes, then brush his hair at least 50 or 60 strokes. I was focused on long-term health of his hair, which was so important,” Geller explains. He also used products like vitamin E and jojoba oil to style Elvis’ hair and replace conditioner. Hairspray was used to set it, with Geller alternating multiple brands so that none of them would dry out Elvis’ coif too much. As for its color, Geller dyed Elvis’ hair every two to three weeks with a L’Oreal formula. What did the two men discuss during all that grooming? Religion, philosophy, books, life, and anything else you can think of. “Elvis had everything,” says Geller. “He was an extraordinary human being. He had the greatest eyes, the greatest voice, fans galore. He also had great hair.”

Elvis in "Frankie and Johnny" and "Spinout", both 1966 movies.

Larry Geller styled Elvis’ hair for: "Roustabout" (1964), Girl Happy (1965), Tickle Me (1965), Harum Scarum (1965), Frankie and Johnny (1966), Paradise, Hawaiian Style (1966), Spinout (1966), Easy Come, Easy Go (1967), Double Trouble (1967), and Clambake (1967). Geller prepared Elvis’ hair for the last time for his funeral in August, 1977.

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Elvis' hair must have been so good smelling and soft. Washed every day, organic products to make it smooth and shiny as it was. 🫠🥹

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Now, if you want to understand why there's a pause in Larry's association with Elvis, here it is:

LARRY GELLER QUITS WORKING FOR ELVIS IN 1967: INDIRECTLY CAUSED BY ELVIS' HEAD INJURY POSTPONING THE FILMING FOR 'CLAMBAKE'.

On March 9, 1967, Elvis was staying in him home in Bel Air, Los Angeles, and one incident (Elvis tripped over a TV cord in his bathroom and banged his head against a porcelain bathtub) caused the beginning of the production for the movie "Clambake", for which he was preparing to, to be postponed. Colonel Parker was fuming when he heard about the need for Elvis to take a couple of weeks of resting to recover from the mild concussion he had. It was a critical moment in Elvis' life. By the time the filming begun, Elvis even put up some weight from his normal 170 lb (77 kg) to 200 lb (91 kg) — I said it before, whenever this happened to Elvis' body it was because he was extremely distressed. He was an emotional eater.

Getting back to the accident, Parker even thought Elvis did it on purpose not to fulfill his Hollywood commitment since Presley clearly was not happy about his movies anymore, something Parker somehow blamed it on Elvis' spiritual quest. He pulled some strings to manipulate Elvis to remove Larry Geller from his inner circle by saying to him that all that spiritual thing was getting too much into his head, distracting him from his business obligations. If not enough Parker said to Presley that Larry Geller was brainwashing him because of some personal agenda he must have had in his mind — it's mentioned by someone, somewhere (i'm sorry, I'm not gonna remember where I've read it now) that Geller was planning on using Elvis' money to open a religious study center or something like that).

Basically, Parker thought Larry was a threat because if Elvis decided in throwing his career away, like some say he was by becoming a preacher, Parker would lose his most profitable and only client. Consequently all the religion and spiritual "shit" (as they called) that Larry Geller had put inside the King's head (as they thought), presenting him with many books and having deep conversations for hours with Elvis about several religious and spiritual subjects but not exclusively that, they also talked about meditation and self improvement as a human beings, astrology and so on, all of that was threatening Parker's plans over Elvis.

But Parker didn't make it on his own. Even Priscilla says in her memoir book that Elvis was obsessively reading non-stop and wanting to share his learning with everybody else, but his friends and herself didn't care about none of this self-improvement and religious talk. His inner circle even looked at Presley's spiritual quest as somewhat annoying, including Priscilla. Their thoughts about Larry Geller were something like "Larry changed his mind. Elvis is not spending time with us as he used to." Ugh!

Nobody actually told Larry to leave, tho, and Elvis wouldn't do such thing if he didn't have a good reason to - until this point Larry was a confidant to him, one of the only people he could talk about life and wonder what was God's plan for him, his true life mission, something Elvis would never cease trying to understand. However, Elvis' inner circle and Colonel Parker begun making Geller feel uncomfortable, unwelcome among the group, while they took Elvis' attention back to them, practically forcing Geller to decide to finally leave and go away for good, and he did it. But it was not something definite.

Many things happened in Elvis' life since Larry Geller and him went different ways but by August 1972, tho, Geller got back in contact in Elvis when he attended one of Presley's concerts in Las Vegas, and from then on Larry begins working for Elvis again, till the end of the King's life in 1977.

[fayegonnaslay]

Elvis' girlfriend Linda Thompson at the Philadelphia Hilton Hotel, 1974.

[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.

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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!"