#public desire presley

[jupiitersreturn]

Astrocartography Observations Part One: Sun, Venus, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter.

(Disclaimer: A lot of Astrologers use different orbs of measurements for Astrocartography. My limit is 200 km because I have seen lines that have influences up to that point, and depending on the planet, sometimes more.)

Planets:

Sun: Fame, Happiness, Vitality, Children.

Moon: Home, Roots, Family, Nostalgia.

Venus: Love, Beauty, Luxury, Desires.

Mercury: Lower Education, Communication, Knowledge, Friendships.

Mars: Passions, Action, Pain, Anger.

Jupiter: Luck, Higher Education, Religion, Beliefs.

Saturn: Karma, Restrictions, Discipline, Commitments.

Uranus: Unpredictability, Innovation, Rebellion, Technology.

Neptune: Illusions, Dreams, Spirituality, Intuition.

Pluto: Destruction, Transformations, Deaths and Rebirths.

Where your Sun lines are running through are places that you could gain or increase your fame or societal standing. And depending on the Angle of the Sun(DC, AS, MC, IC) it can also tell you what exactly it is that gives you that happiness.

☆ Despite being the daughter of a US Navy Pilot, Priscilla Presley gained her fame from being married to famous musician Elvis Presley. They got married at the Aladdin Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada. Priscilla has her Sun DC line running through Las Vegas. Sun rules fame, DC rules partnerships.

☆ Blake Lively has her Sun MC line running through London, where she has expressed her love for on numerous occasions, AND where she has made meaningful connections with other celebrities that has contributed to her social status and public persona. (MC)

☆ David Beckham has his Sun IC line running through Miami and although he retired from soccer in 2013, he maintained and even increased his societal standing when he became the co-owner of the Inter Miami CF.

☆ Interestingly enough, Blake Lively also has her Sun, Venus, AND Mars MC lines running directly through London, which is a place that she loves to go and feels happy at (Sun). A few months ago, she and her partner (Venus) bought a house in London to live in while he finishes up his filming of the Deadpool Franchise (Sun MC) which is an action movie (Mars).

☆ Perrie Edwards has her Sun DC line running through London and she gained fame (Sun) from her role as 1/4 of the girl group Little Mix (DC)

Where your Mars lines are running through are places that you could experience or be subject to hate, pain (physical, mental, and emotional), and anger.

☆ Victoria Beckham's Mars AS line runs through Madrid. When her husband David Beckham transferred from Manchester United to Real Madrid, they moved to Madrid. Victoria Beckham was singled out for hating Spain due to her remark of Spain smelling like Garlic and giving off a terrible scent. This one phrase basically ruined her life in Spain as the hate against her lasted for up to 4 years. She has said that it was the most unhappy she has ever been in her life.

☆ David Beckham has his Mars AS line running through Rio De Janeiro. In 2014 he was under a lot of fire from Brazilian locals after being accused of indirectly causing the prices of favelas to increase after buying a "slum-house" for $1M allowing gentrification to ensue.

☆ Charli D'Amelio's Mars MC is going straight through the center of the United States. We all know how disliked/hated she is amongst people in the United States. And with this being her MC line, it makes sense that the hate is largely due to and greatly affects her public persona and the way that she is portrayed by media.

☆ Monica Lewinsky has her Mars DS line running through California which we all know is Fame Headquarters (Hollywood). She was a hot topic in the entertainment industry and subject to a fuck ton of scrutiny and hate for a long time due to her intimate relationship with former president Bill Clinton (DS).

Where Your Venus lines are at, could be potential places that you may meet your life partner or long term relationships, and the lines that pass through it could tell you the circumstances.

☆ Blake Lively has her Sun AS, Mars AS, AND her Venus AS lines touching New Orleans. She met her Husband of 11 years in New Orleans (Venus rules Love) while shooting an Action Movie (Sun rules Movies and Fame, Mars rules Action)

☆ Victoria Beckham has her both her Venus MC and Jupiter MC lines going through London. She met her husband of over 20 years in London. Additionally, the Midheaven or Medium Coeli is the highest point of your chart and represents your Public Image and Success. The Beckham's are known to be one of Hollywood's longest standing marriages and have created a household name for themselves propelling both of them in their careers and future prospects. (Jupiter MC)

☆ (Also, I just thought this was interesting) Victoria Beckham had her start in the entertainment industry as a member of The Spice Girls. Her stage name was Posh Spice (Venus) which defined her Public Image (MC).

Where your IC lines are, could indicate your ancestry, or where and how you grew up or experienced your early life at.

☆ Selena Quintanilla's Saturn IC line runs through Mexico and she is Mexican. Although she became the biggest Mexican-American music artist in her 20's, when she was younger she had no connection to her Mexican ancestry (IC). She had to learn about her ancestry, AND learn Spanish before she was able to be labeled a Mexican American music artist. (Saturn represents restrictions and delays)

☆ Nicole Kidman's Mercury IC line runs through Ireland, and she has openly talked (Mercury) about her Irish ancestry (IC)

☆ Perrie Edwards has her Mercury DS line running through Scotland and she has Scottish ancestry.

☆ Hailey Bieber has her Mercury IC line running through Brazil. She has Brazilian ancestry as her mother is Brazilian.

☆ Charli D'Amelio has her Mercury IC line touching Italy. She is of Italian Descent on her fathers side.

Where your Jupiter lines are, could indicate where and how you experience luck.

☆ Charlize Theron has her Jupiter MC line running through California and it was there that she was discovered by a Hollywood agent while getting into an altercation with a bank teller.

☆ Anya Taylor Joy has her Jupiter DC line running through London which is where she was disocvered while walking her dog.

☆ Justin Bieber has his Jupiter AS line running through Canada which is where he was discovered by Scooter Braun completely by chance as he clicked on the wrong Youtube video and Justin's video came up.

[sissylittlefeather]

Wrote a dirty little thing...

A/N: Thanks to @ccab for helping me get inspired for this one! Once we started talking about Elvis driving, this had to happen. Also, I know this is my second fic with this song, but THIS SONG DOES THINGS TO ME OKAY.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI SMUT, kissing, cussing, oral sex (m receiving), public sex (road head), fingering, teasing, dangerous driving, etc.

Word count: 1200ish

Power of My Love

Elvis has a habit of changing the radio station when one of his songs comes on, but he knows how Power of My Love affects you, so when it comes on while he's taking you for a drive in his brand new Stutz Blackhawk, he turns it up instead of changing it.

He almost always has your undivided attention, but when he starts humming along, your eyes are immediately drawn to his body: the way his silk shirt clings to his shoulders, the cuffs hang on his wrists, his rings sparkle in the sunlight on his long fingers, and how his belt pulls his pants tight on his narrow waist. Your eyes drift a little lower and you bite your bottom lip thinking of what's hiding there just out of sight. His cock is perfect and the thought of it so close makes your mouth water.

Then, he sings out loud.

"No, baby, you can't lick it..."

Your eyes flick up to his face and he looks at you as he smiles and does the subtle chuckle that follows the line on the recording. He knows that drives you crazy and it definitely has the intended effect. You feel your panties get noticeably wetter and you need to do something right now. You think about sliding your panties off and touching yourself, but you need his dick somewhere in your body. Then it hits you.

You can lick it.

Your hands go to his belt and he looks at you suddenly.

"Honey, what are you doing?"

"Just... I need you."

He laughs softly at your desperation. Then, he leans back a little and rolls his hips forward so that you can get his belt off faster. You rub your hand over him outside his pants and he grunts. He's not exactly sure where you're going with this, but he's not going to argue with you.

It doesn't take him long to get hard with you massaging him. The feeling of your hand on his cock is distracting, but he tries to stay focused on driving. You move your hand gingerly over him, squeezing gently. When you're satisfied that he's turned on enough, you open his pants and pull him out, continuing to stroke him up and down. You feel a relief now that you can feel and touch him, but you need more.

"Damn, baby. That feels good." He whines as you pump him. You give him a devilish look and his eyes sparkle with intrigue. He's curious what your next move will be, especially with the look you've just given him.

Then, you lean over and lick a small circle on the tip of his dick.

"Oh, fuck." He's completely caught off guard and he looks down at you nervously as you begin to bounce your mouth up and down on him.

"Gonna make it hard to drive, honey." He says, voice dripping with desire.

"Mhmm." You hum without pulling off of him and he groans. Then you sit up and continue pumping him with your hand. "Should I stop?"

"Fuck, no." He rearranges himself on the seat to give you a better angle and keep his foot on the pedal. You smile at him and lean over again, pulling him into your mouth. You're thankful that he's wearing dark pants, because your lipstick is making a mess of them. You open your throat and shift back and forth slightly to fit all of him, gagging slightly and pressing your nose into his pants. He moans as he turns a corner and you grip his thigh to stay in his lap. Once the car levels out again, you run your tongue up the bottom of his shaft and go back to focusing on the sensitive head, holding the base of him in your hand. You lick more circles around it, dragging your tongue slowly over him.

"Fuck fuck fuck" he whimpers and leans his head back. Thankfully, you're at a stoplight. You're sure people can see in the windows, but you don't care. Your need for him outweighs any self-consciousness at this point.

You continue stroking him with your right hand and sucking gently on the tip of his cock. The car behind you honks because the light has turned and he sits up quickly, foot on the gas. He clears his throat and looks down at you again. You pull back and look up at him this time and catch a glimpse of his lust-blown eyes.

"Don't stop, baby."

"Yes, daddy." It might sound like he's in charge, but you know he's putty in your hands at this point, and you could make him do just about anything. You go back to sliding him in and out of your mouth at a steady pace.

At the next stop light, his right hand wanders over your back and up to your breast, squeezing it lightly. Then, he moves down to the spot between your legs where your panties are soaked at this point.

"Mmm baby, so wet for me." He moves your panties to the side and slips one finger into you. Now it's your turn to moan as he moves his finger in and out in time with your movements. When he has to drive again he moves his hand back to the steering wheel and you whimper at the feeling of emptiness.

You decide to make him regret this move by pulling off of him and sitting up.

"No, baby, why?" He begs, desperate with need for you to finish him.

"Tell me you'll pay me back when we get home."

"Honey, you know I will. More than once." He grabs the back of your hair and pulls you into a deep kiss before looking back at the road. He's driving pretty dangerously at this point, but neither of you seem to care. You're only a few blocks from your destination and you're both eager to make it there.

"Promise me." You whisper, nibbling softly on his earlobe.

"Oh god, baby, please. I promise." You smile and go back to his lap, pulling him deeply into your mouth, letting his cock hit the back of your throat. He moans loudly as you start to move faster and faster. You push your tongue to the roof of your mouth and let him hit the bottom of your tongue. Then, you lick around the top and press him into you completely again. You go back to bouncing quickly, taking as much of him into your mouth as possible over and over again, gagging slightly as your eyes begin to water.

"'M gonna come, baby." He groans again as he pulls in to park. He shudders as you suck him fully into your throat again and tighten your lips around him. His hips buck as he comes hard, filling you with his release, and you swallow it down.

"Fuck, baby, yes." He says through gritted teeth as you finish him off. When you pull back off of him, he zips his pants quickly, jumps out of the car, and runs around to your door. He opens it and practically drags you out, pressing you up against the car and kissing you deeply, running his hands up your front to grab your breasts and rolling his hips into you.

"Are we in a hurry?" You ask when he pulls back and meets your eyes. He smiles and kisses you again softly.

"I have a promise to keep." You laugh as he scoops you into his arms and moves quickly toward the front door. You make a mental note that this is the power of your love.

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

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows

Hope you have as much fun with this one as I did!

[moontrinemars]

Dhruva as Dhanishtha: The First Fortune is a Red Herring

To me, it seems Dhanishtha is simultaneously over-hyped and under-valued... It's generally diluted to the fame, wealth, fortune, etc. it's associated with, as if it has no depth and no meaning beyond that. It's associated with the Ashta Vasus for a reason! The life of Dhruva is a good example. It is not necessarily work or labor that brings bounty to Dhruva, but his reclaiming renunciation after experiencing scorn and neglect, at a very young age. His humility as a boy, in sacrificing his birthright for the sake of determining his purpose, and his prostration to the divine after his being denied love and status, these qualities are what leads to his being crowned king as a child, yes, but that's not the actual point of the story. His true reward is being gifted with intrinsic knowledge of/the voice to sing the hymns of Vishnu, and to reach Druvapada, becoming one with the cosmos, out of reach of true destruction even at its most powerful.

Obviously, this is a story about an unusually holy figure, the brightest and healthiest form of Dhanishtha, so we don't expect all natives to reach these spiritual heights, but putting aside the ending for a moment, to look at the beginning and middle, we see depth rarely mentioned when looking into Dhanishtha.

Dhruva is born into privilege, but explicitly made to understand that he is unworthy of this privilege. Thus, he has to retreat from the source of his privilege, he has to fast, he has to devote himself to something higher than his desire for love, comfort, security. Only after giving up, disowning the fortune of a prince, does Vishnu offer him the true, great fortune of the holy figure elevated and eventually deified, a boy-king and a god.

This speaks to a theme I've seen repeatedly in Dhanishtha natives. Princess Diana was born into a nobility which afforded her the role of wife and mother to future kings, but she had to forgo that role, the security of it, to become the woman sanctified in popular culture to this day. The problem with those lost famous Dhanishtha figures like Diana and Marilyn Monroe and Yoko Ono — and this is particularly true for women — is when their fame or hunger for fame becomes so intense that they no longer have the option of withdrawing, of renunciation. Who with Dhanishtha placements had this result? Well, Princess Diana, Marilyn Monroe, Yoko Ono... and Bob Marley, Sharon Tate, James Dean, Paris Hilton, Jennifer Aniston, Justin Bieber, Kristen Stewart, Mary Queen of Scots, Elvis Presley, Whitney Houston, Ariana Grande, Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp, Arthur Conan Doyle, Jimi Hendrix, Aaliyah, Shia LaBeouf... all of these figures had Dhanishtha placements, and have had their lives, reputations, and properties over-publicized. (This is not a comment on whether any of the listed figures are good or bad people, btw.)

This isn't to say that Dhanishtha is more tragic than another nakshatra, but that an underexplored aspect of Dhanishtha is the need for absense, rest periods, and periodic fasting, whether literal or metaphorical. The sense of rhythm that Dhanishtha is famous for, it isn't just about knowing when to hit, it's about knowing when and how long to wait before you do. That's what rhythm is — not just the beats themselves, but the spaces in between. That's why the happiest and most consistently successful Dhanishtha natives are the ones who don't allow the pressure of the public, those around them, or duties that are attached to supposed fortunes they've received, to overload their plate until they're hitting out of sync, or simply have to stop all together. Whether fast or slow, these natives need discipline in setting and keeping pace.

The depth to Dhanishtha is that, as with all Dharma-motivated nakshatras, its natives yearn for purpose and meaning — but on a distinctly cosmic scale. They're told and feel that they've been blessed, but to what end? They spend their whole lives trying to figure it out, because it simply isn't enough to have potential, they also have to use it to whatever end makes them matter. It depends on their other placements how this internal struggle manifests, but throughout their lives, yearning for significance permeates everything they feel and do.

And this yearning can propell them to ignore their greatest asset: their sense of timing.

Underdeveloped Dhanishtha natives will use their blessing however they are told to, in the form that's convenient to those around them. They never leave the palace; they stay prince forever, and thus never grow enough to even be a particularly good prince. Natives who do develop somewhat will leave the palace, but they may return after an insufficient amount of time, expecting that their experience of fasting, of loss or struggle, in and of itself, will be enough to enlighten them. Dhanishtha at its truest and most enlightened form will not only fast until they understand hunger, not only fast until they can SEE 'god' — they will fast until they MEET 'god', until Vishnu returns their voice to them, and reserves a place for them in the heavens.

[elvisabutler]

Belle decorates Professor Presley’s classroom on Valentine’s day their first Valentine’s together and she’s a grinning mess through out class wearing his jacket and opening her legs for him to see what she is (or isn’t) wearing underneath only 😌 and just so much fluff and love and hot sex with big daddy elvis

my heart is thrilled by the still of your hand

summary: you decorate elvis's office for valentines and give him a bit of a present for the holiday. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: professor! elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x student! female reader ( nicknamed belle ) word count: 2837 warnings: big daddy elvis. elvis using a walking stick/cane. implied praise kink. student and professor relationship ( everyone are of legal age ). religious talk. oral ( f receiving ). p in v sex ( unprotected ). referring to lil elvis as a pacifier. use of the derogatory name jezebel, but in a playful way. public nudity. mild indecent exposure. belle being brazen as hell. reference/threat of caning in a sexual way/sexual punishment way. author’s note: this is several months late but hi anon this was adorable and i loved writing it to the point where it flowed embarrassingly easily from my fingers. hopefully you like it and as always y'all i love comments and screaming and prompts like this. truly they keep a woman writing and going.

The thing about holidays is that you've never really liked a lot of them. October led to Halloween which led to parties where people would talk and talk about you as if you didn't exist nearby. You might be friendly with most people but there was always that subset of people who have to judge you for your actions. Judge you for every little small thing you've done since you became a student at the college. November led to Thanksgiving and the entire campus being empty while you stayed because as much as you love your parents- you don't want to go home to see them more than once a year and especially not for a holiday that has all your family around asking if you've found a nice boy at college yet. After the first time you answered you found a nice man and not a nice boy- well they felt the need to offer more opinions. No, Thanksgiving was never worth it. December brought Christmas and Hanukkah for your family and the family friends you might as well call family. That's the set of holidays you don't mind. That's the set of holidays where you can let loose and relax and answer questions about your love life because they're peppered in with questions on how school's coming along. How your studies are going and warnings that if you do meet a nice man to make sure he had your best interests at heart.

Honestly, this past December was your favorite with the secure knowledge that you had someone waiting for you back on campus. Your relationship might have been new and both you and Elvis might be walking around like baby deers when it came to doing anything to upset the balance of it but it's still yours. It's still a solid thing that has you smiling and has everyone insisting you've got to bring him soon, that it doesn't have to be a holiday- they just want to see the man who has their girl so happy. You spend New Years at home too but you make sure to call Elvis and hear him tell you softly that he misses you before you tell him that you do too and that you'll kiss him as soon as you see him.

Everything is fine until you realize that it's February and that means it's Valentine's Day. You can't decorate the lecture hall, though you want to but you can at least decorate the podium and his office. You can decorate those things and give him a surprise because you don't have any classes that day. You're free to do whatever it is your heart desires and if that's teasing the man you're sure is the love of your life and the man you want to spend the rest of your life with- well- that's your business isn't it.

It had occurred to you that this was a risky idea but there's something delightful in finding that Elvis has a pink jacket you've never seen him wear but covers you enough that if you want you can barely wear anything with it. Truly you just want to see his reaction to you practically naked underneath a jacket of his while in class. You choose a class that has less people in it, one of the upper level classes. You think perhaps you should sit in the front but you know that at the top of the room he could very easily see your exposed body while no one else would. So you choose a spot right in front of his podium on that very top row and wait until the middle of his lecture to do a single thing. His eyes haven't left you from the moment he walked in, placing a kiss on your cheek with a raised eyebrow that you just answer with a smile. His reaction the moment you open his jacket just enough to see what's underneath has you giggling softly.

You had chosen to where a skimpy set of underwear- one you know shows how wet you already are and shows just how much you want Elvis. You know he can see the faintest hint of your pussy and you know from the way his eyes zero in on it that in the back of his mind he's picturing his face being buried between your legs as you explain St. Valentine's to him. Or perhaps your end goal, perhaps that's what you want and you're just deciding that he wants it just as much. Your chest is more exposed, no bra in sight and the cold air of the room has your nipples pebbling, turning into targets that he wants to zero in on to suck and nip and turn puffy with overuse.

"I- I-" he stutters out, tripping over his sentence as he tries to wrench his eyes away from your exposed body before whispering to himself, "Christ almighty woman."

"Professor Presley?" You and him both hear the voice of a male student trying to get Elvis to focus and get back on track. "Are you alright? You look a little flushed."

A giggle threatens to escape you as you watch him swallow, trying to figure out the best way to answer that question without exposing your actions. You shut the jacket once more and Elvis's eyes narrow briefly before turning to the student. "I'm just fine. Ya know how it is when the weather's like this- half the damn campus is sick wit' somethin'. Nah, I'm- Feelin' fine, my boy. Now as I was sayin'."

And so it goes for the next hour with you teasing him over and over watching his hands grip the heart shaped decorations on his podium and watching as his jaw tightens and he practically growls when he sees a few students try and turn around to see just what he's looking at. Before class ends you slip out the back door and make your way to his office. You hear his booming voice bellowing about class being dismissed and can't help the way you laugh as you pull the jacket tighter around you. The extra key Elvis had given you to the office allows you to sneak inside and sit down in his chair at his desk. You expect him to be there in a few minutes but it takes closer to fifteen before you hear the door open and hear his rumbling murmur.

"Jezebel," he murmurs, practically stalking across the room till he stops at the desk, his cane somehow remaining far more quiet than it normally is. "Teasin' me like that. Oughta cane ya for that, darlin'. Give ya a lil punishment for actin' that way. Thought ya were gonna be all sweet wit' the decorations."

You lean back in the chair a little bit, not because you're scared but you're curious to see if he'll lean over you, if he'll remind you of one of the many reasons you fell for him. Remind you of how you are strong and can fight and put up with the best of them, but he- he is something else entirely. He is a bear of a man with strength curled underneath all that fat and bulk. Your body inadvertently shudders as he does lean over you his hands resting on the arms of the chair. Your words are quiet but only because you're trying to be coy. "I am sweet with them, Professor Presley. I wanted to make sure your office looked sweet so you could eat something sweet in here."

His eyes roam down to the sliver of skin exposed by his jacket and he takes his hand, opening it up to reveal what he'd like to call his Valentine's present. You in his pink jacket, inviting him in between your legs like a succubus craving her neck meal. Inviting him in like you're his salvation and damnation all at once. A breath leaves him shakily as he moves to grab your hand in an effort to get you out of the chair. "Desk, Belle. On my desk. Let me see the feast you've got for me. See how sweet my treat really is."

The way you practically scramble to get onto the desk is a little embarrassing if you're honest with yourself but when it comes to Elvis sometimes you do things you otherwise wouldn't. You're not subservient to anyone and yet sometimes with him you truly are. You keep the jacket on and allow it to settle on your shoulders as you lay down on the desk, exposing your breasts and torso and neck for him. A part of you knows you shouldn't touch yourself but seeing Elvis's pure lust written all over his face has your hand drifting down between your legs, fingers slipping between your folds easily. There's a moment where you're too distracted to notice Elvis watching you, too distracted to notice how his breathing shifts and how his cock is rising to the occasion the more he watches you until he grabs at your wrist and pulls it out. "Puttin' on a show. Ain't ya just my angel sent from above to be a lil devil," he moves your hand up to his mouth and licks at your fingers, causing your toes to curl just a little, "sweeter than the best pie I've ever had. Practically candy all on its own."

What happens next isn't what you expect, necessarily but you don't know why you didn't. Elvis drops down to his knees and you hear the slight crack in them before his hands- his always burning hands grab at your underwear, practically yanking them off as he pulls you to the edge of the desk. He licks his lips and inches his face toward your waiting cunt before taking a moment to just inhale the scent and to nuzzle at your folds with his lips and nose and chin, coating them in your already copious amount of fluids. A growl leaves him that you feel in the pit of your soul before he practically dives in, his tongue laving at your core, dancing around your clit in ways he knows drive to madness. Your hands move to his hair, sliding through and gripping with such ferocity Elvis growls once again against you. His intensity reminds you of an animal- a predator savoring their meal, devouring what's rightfully his. Your fingers pull and twist in his black hair, guiding him where you need him the most at any given second. You move him away from your clit, trying to make this last when you feel your body start to tighten, feel your legs start to tremble and tighten around his back, marveling in the strength of it as he continues his onslaught, giving your clit a little nip for trying to guide him away from it.

"Elvis-" you moan, trying to have your brain remember what it's like to say words, trying to remember what it's like to breathe, to think, to have a thought in your head that doesn't revolve around how his tongue and lips feel against your clit and your folds. "Need- Gonna-"

All he does is squeeze your hips, his rings digging into your skin as he sucks your clit one last time bringing you over the edge with a scream you can't hold back. For a brief moment you swear you see stars as you try and catch your breath. When Elvis pulls away from between your legs, leaning on his haunches you see how completely covered in your come he is and a shudder runs through you as you shakily sit up and try to grab onto him to pull him up. You want to kiss him and taste yourself. You want to have his body, his comforting warm weight against you. You want to feel the scratch of the hair on his belly against your soft skin. He catches what you're trying to do and helps as best as he can before finally getting into a standing position and pushing you farther up onto the desk where you can lay down. Your lips start to kiss at his neck, licking some of the sweat off of his skin as your hands claw and rip a button on his shirt trying to get it open. He chuckles, rutting against the desk a little as he helps you with it, shucking off his shirt as you decide to shift your focus to his belt instead. That you can do, that you can do so you can reach his cock. It only takes a minute before you pulling him out of his underwear and moving to try and suck it before he pushes you back against the desk.

"You ain't gettin' your pacifier today, Belle. Teasin' me like that deserves a punishment and I know ya love that thing too much. Nah, gonna fuck ya and maybe if ya real good for the rest of the day, maybe when we get home ya can have it. But right now? Oh, Belle, darlin', no suckin' on your lil' pacifier." His voice is practically a croon before he leans against you, the scratch of the hair on his stomach causing you to cry out softly and whine.

"Elvis- Why-" The words and the whine die on your lips as cock slides into you, filling you up as you thump your head against the desk lightly. You'd think you'd have gotten used to it. You'd think you would have gotten used to the stretch and the subtle burn of his foreskin catching inside of you but even now it's different. It slides through your pussy with ease and yet you clench around it as you watch Elvis's face contort and hear his grunts as his fingers tighten around your hips once more.

"Fuck- Always like a damn vice grip 'round me. Always tight 'round me." A hand moves to grab at your chest, playing with your nipple as you keen at the sensation. "Too much? Ya want me to stop touchin' 'em? Leave 'em be?"

"No!" You cry out, your hips grinding against his, chasing after his cock as he pulls out and pushes back in. You try and wrap your legs around him before he shakes his head.

"Ya made yourself a pretty lil present for me. Let me enjoy it and show ya how much I love ya and it." His words are gruff, practically snarled out as he moves faster and faster, his hips acting like he's 20 something instead of the 40 something he is.

It's too much, you think. It's too much to feel how he stretches you as he fucks you. It's too much how his hand squeezes your breasts and your nipples. It's too much how his mouth slots against yours and how both your lips are kiss bitten and how your teeth keep sinking into his lip in between his nips to yours. It's too much how you feel his hips start to stutter a little like he's going to come. It's too much how you feel your body shudder and feel your hands clawing at his back, slippery against his sweat. It's too much how your skin slides against his and how your body relishes in the feel of his chest hair and the hair on his stomach. It's too much how his whole body weight has you pinned against the desk as if you're minuscule to him. It's- It's too much.

"Please." You mutter against his lips and you feel him pull away before the hand that had been playing with your chest finally slides down between your legs and rubs your clit just so that has your hips trying to lift up only to be stopped by his sheer bulk against it. You come with a whimper of his name and heaving breaths as you feel his come fill you with a certain warmth that settles deep in your bones.

Elvis collapses on top of you as he tries to catch his breath and you take the time to play with his chest, play with his chest hair with a small smile. When you've finally come down to Earth you manage to speak, whispering softly against his skin with a kiss. "Happy Valentines."

You watch as a smile crosses his face as he looks at you with such an intense love you can't help but bite your lip. "Ya know how to give presents for it." A beat. "Ya also damn lucky ya ain't in my class. Would've had ya tell me all about St. Valentine's while 'tween ya legs."

A smirk crosses your face before you kiss up his neck, stopping once you've reached his lips. "Maybe that's how I can earn my pacifier back tonight?"

Elvis's eyes become just a little bit lidded as his hand that still hasn't left your hip tightens its grip. "I think ya might have a deal, Belle."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis if you don’t want to be tagged for this series, tell me, i just copied from one of my other elvis fics. also if i missed you in this tagging and your name doesn’t look like everyone else’s welcome to the horror of being one of those people who tumblr won’t let me tag.

[hooked-on-elvis]

Saturday, August 18, 1956: Elvis at the Knickerbocker Hotel in Hollywood, by photographer Ed Braslaff

The "Rooftop Glamour" photo shoot 🥹

MARTY LACKER "On those first two movies, Elvis stayed at the Hollywood Knickerbocker, on Ivar Avenue. His parents went, too. Elvis rented the whole eleventh floor. He'd sit up there and write his name in lighter fluid on the glass-top coffee table, and then set it on fire, watch it blaze. Girls remember stuff like that. Then, for "Loving You", he moved to the Beverly Wilshire. That was his home in Hollywood until he started renting houses in the sixties." — As told on "Elvis Aaron Presley: Revelations from the Memphis Mafia" by Alanna Nash

Principal filming on "The Reno Brothers" (original title for "Love Me Tender" movie) began August 22, in Hollywood, and finished up on September 21, 1956. This photo shoot happened on the weekend right before the first week of filming Elvis' first movie could begin. Imagine how he was feeling! Yet, he looked so natural in all pictures. Not a sign on anxiety can be seen through his pictures.

Once the filming of "Love Me Tender" had begun, Reporter Patricia Vernon (from The New York Herald Tribune) was sent to interview Elvis on the set.

Patricia asked Elvis if he thought he was a Sex Symbol to kids, as some psychiatrist said at the time.

Elvis: "Someone should put those psychos on a long couch and tell them a thing or two," he said. "They all think Ah'm a sex maniac. they're just frustrated old types, anyway. Ah'm just natural."

On the interview moment, Patricia shared:

He gave me the heavy-lidded look again. "You don't love me," he said accusingly. I told him I didn't love anyone on such short notice. "Ah bet you'd like me if Ah tried," he said. "Ah'm just teasin' now, but Ah'd be sweet and you'd like me because Ah was sweet, wouldn't you?" (If I was her: 🫠) He was teasing, but underneath I sensed the desire of a small boy seeking approval. Then he went out to meet two young fans who wanted their picture taken with him. He told me to stay where I was, that he'd be right back. "I RAN FOR MY LIFE." Excerpt from the 1956 All Elvis Magazine "HERO or HEEL"

That photo shoot is beyond amazing. Elvis was so natural in front of a camera right from the very start of his career, it's incredible. He totally was born to be an public figure. There's a few more wonderful pictures on this day, but only 30 is allowed here (what a shame). Side note: The last photo is merely for historical purposes. 🫠

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Arrangement

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Actor, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader, Elvis Presley x Female Reader x Jerry Schilling

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Jerry Schilling, Sonny West, Red West, Lamar Fike

Word Count: 4236

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Elvis loves to show you off. Fortunately he doesn’t mind who’s looking.

Tags/Warnings: Non Chronological Order, Oral Sex, Threesome, M/M/F, Cunnilingus, Semi Public Sex, Graceland, Wife Sharing, Established Relationship, Reader and Elvis are Married, Memphis Mafia, Teasing, POV Second Person, Extra Marital Sex

Notes: Havent we all asked ourselves which members of the mafia we’d fuck?

LINK TO MADE FOR THE MAFIA

You could hear them downstairs, deep voices echoing up to the floor you were on as you rushed to get ready. In fact, you had been going for hours and still you weren't finished. You were sure you were going to be the last one downstairs. At times you envied them. Though you knew your husband always took extra effort with his appearance most of his friends didn’t opting to throw on a suit and hope for the best but tonight wasn’t one of those nights. Tonight was a charity dinner, black tie, and as Elvis was a major donor all focus would be on your party. Again you envied the boys. Even when they had to make an effort it still wasn't even on the same level as you. Their options were limited to one, a tuxedo, and yours were endless. You had managed to find something nice though, something demure but with a cutting-edge of sexy. That was something Elvis had insisted on. But it wasn’t the only thing. Before you could dwell on that request too long you heard him call your name from the bottom of the stairs and after one quick check of your make up you headed downstairs with your bag in hand.   Elvis was waiting at the bottom and his face broke into a smile as he noticed you at the top of the stairs. As you made your way down slowly he let out a low whistle.   ‘God damn if I didn’t know any better I’d say that was an angel coming down those stairs,’ he said as you reached the bottom making you blush just a touch. ‘Well you look pretty good yourself,’ you said as he wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned in to capture your lips for a moment. As he pulled back to look at you though you noticed his blue eyes looked almost black with desire which made a tingle run down your spine as did the hand burning into the small of your back. He smirked at your reaction looking away which was when you noticed you weren’t alone. Jerry was standing by the staircase watching the pair of you closely and Red and Sonny were waiting by the door. All three of them dressed in tuxedos though admittedly Jerry looked the best.   ‘Ain’t she a vision Jer?’ Elvis said as he noticed you eyeing Jerry. His grip tightened on your back his thumb teasing along the planes of your ass through the satin dress. ‘Stunning,’ Jerry said thickly as if the words caught in his throat, ‘real pretty.’ ‘And it’s a good job too,’ Elvis said looking at you, ‘if the end result wasn’t worth it I’d be worried about being late.’   You smiled but didn’t say anything else as Elvis nudged you forward towards the door that Sonny was now opening. You should’ve been embarrassed that the entire party had been held up because you were making sure everything looked just right but as you felt Elvis’ thumb trace taunting touches against your satin-covered skin you knew it was the right thing to do. Your actions however didn’t seem as well thought out as you stepped out into the warm summer night air. You could hear them behind you, the boys, as they repeated Jerry’s words in mocking tones earning themselves a swift, ‘can it,’ from the man himself.   It caused your face to flush. Not because of the compliment. After all, you knew he probably wouldn’t have said anything if Elvis hadn’t asked. It was because they didn’t know. They didn’t know that only a few days before tonight Jerry had offered the same compliments though then you had been wearing far less. They hadn’t heard the string of expletives that had left his lips as you wrapped your mouth around his cock, your husband watching on with words of encouragement.   Elvis however didn’t blush but you felt him stiffen against you as you walked down to the long car idling on the driveway, Lamar in the driver’s seat. As you reached the bottom of the steps Elvis leaned into you, low enough that he was sure the boys wouldn’t be able to hear as he whispered, ‘did you do as I asked?’ ‘Yes,’ you said though it was barely more than a breath. ‘Good girl,’ he smirked before he pulled away looking towards the men who were now behind you.   ‘Jer would you help her into the car?’ he said offering your hand to Jerry who looked nervous but took it without question. As he led you around to the other side of the car it struck you how the pair of you did most things Elvis asked without a second thought. You heard Red snigger but you didn’t dare look back. You probably should have, after all, Red probably didn’t know how much he was pissing Elvis off, but you could tell it was a lot. You glanced towards Elvis as Jerry opened the door for you. He was standing on the other side of the car, blocking the boys from being able to climb in the other door.   ‘Something wrong EP?’ Red asked his voice laced with confusion. Jerry’s gaze immediately dropped as did yours whilst he helped you manoeuvre into a seated position which was providing difficult to do in the tight-fitting fabric. ‘You two need to ride up front with Lamar,’ Elvis said simply. ‘Why?’ Sonny asked making you cringe as Jerry climbed into the seat opposite you with a matching expression on his own face. ‘No room,’ Elvis said. You glanced around at the seats you and Jerry were sitting on, the pair of you barely taking up a third of the space in the car. ‘But-' Red protested. ‘I’m sorry,’ Elvis said, ‘did that sound like a request?’   You looked out of the window but all you could see was Elvis’ back against it as he faced off with the two men. Eventually, you heard a disgruntled mumble and then the front passenger side door opened so that the boys could slide in. As you watched Red shuffle into the middle of the bench with Sonny right behind him you felt Jerry’s eyes on you. He looked confused but he wasn’t the only one. After all the boys hadn’t been teasing you. They’d been teasing Jerry and Elvis was very much a ‘if you can’t take the heat get out of the kitchen’ kind of guy so you doubted that was what had got him acting differently. No, you had a sneaking suspicion he had something up his sleeve.   Elvis slid into the seat beside you shutting the door roughly as he placed his other hand on your thigh. You smiled at him trying to ignore the flutter in your core as he looked at you. He looked good in black tie and if it hadn’t taken you an age to get ready you figured you might have ravished him then and there. As the car took off down towards the gates and then on the open road his attention turned to Jerry who was still watching you like a deer in headlights. You didn’t know how he could be so nervous. Not after the other night.   ‘Put that screen up would ya,’ Elvis said gesturing to the open compartment that separated you from the front of the car. You could see Red’s head turn just a little but he didn’t look back and as Jerry immediately obeyed they disappeared from view in an instant. Elvis settled back, his hand still on your thigh as he looked at you his eyes roving every inch of your body.   ‘Wanna know something? he said turning to look at Jerry who glanced at you and then shuffled in his seat before he answered. ‘Sure.’ ‘I hate these functions. Hate ‘em,’ Elvis said. ‘I know what ya mean,’ Jerry said growing more comfortable the more normal Elvis acted, ‘still at least these ones are for good causes not like some of those Hollywood functions we’ve been to. Takes the sting out of it a little.’ ‘You’re right,’ Elvis mused before a smirk played on his lips, ‘you wanna know what really takes the sting outta these functions for me?’ ‘What?’ Jerry asked. ‘You don’t know?’ Elvis asked as Jerry shook his head. ‘How about you baby?’ he asked looking at you. ‘I don’t know,’ you said. ‘Not one guess huh?’ he asked and though you tried to think you found your mind blank. You shook your head. ‘My favourite thing about these functions is that I get to take you to ‘em. Flaunt you round looking like a million bucks and then bring you home so I can fuck you,’ he said his words dripping off his tongue like honey as the two of you watched him.   ‘Elvis,’ you said feeling a blush creep up on your face. ‘Don’t be acting shy on me now mama,’ he said squeezing your thigh, ‘and don’t be pretending in front of Jer that you don’t love dolling yourself up just right so it’s all I can think about all night. He knows what you’re like remember.’ ‘That’s different,’ you said though you weren’t exactly sure how. Jerry had already seen just how much you liked to show off. ‘You don’t think I clocked the pair of you looking at one another?’ he said looking between you both. ‘EP,’ Jerry protested. ‘Don’t worry about it I ain’t mad,’ he said casually, ‘if I didn’t get mad when you had your cock in her mouth ain’t gonna get mad now am I?’ ‘S’pose not,’ Jerry said though even in the low lighting you could see a dash of pink on his cheeks. ‘In fact, I quite liked having you show off for him and me,’ Elvis admitted, ‘got me thinking about the other night.’ ‘EP we said it was a one-time thing,’ Jerry said quietly. ‘Oh sure,’ Elvis said, ‘a way to help out a friend and my girl was more than obliging don’t you think?’ ‘Yeah of course she was,’ Jerry said throwing you an apologetic look. ‘But you don’t wanna do it again?’ Elvis asked. ‘It’s not that,’ Jerry started unsurely looking at the pair of you as he thought over his words, ‘I just thought it was a one-time deal. I mean you guys are married.’ ‘What you think she’s gonna leave me for you?’ Elvis said with a laugh that made Jerry’s blush deepen, ‘don’t worry yourself ain’t that right baby?’   You dropped your gaze to your lap. You liked Jerry and you had enjoyed yourself, but Elvis would always be your one and only.   ‘Look,’ Elvis said capturing both of your attention, ‘if you don’t want to do it again fine but I can’t help but think from your reaction when she came down those stairs that ain’t exactly the truth. And since I know just how much my girl enjoyed herself the other night I wouldn’t feel right not venturing to explore it again.’ ‘Really?’ you asked feeling that coil in your lower belly tighten just a touch. You hadn’t talked about what had happened much since. You’d been too nervous to bring it up. He’d been happy at the moment but you feared through the haze of daylight he might have changed his mind. ‘Hey I knew what I was signing up for when I married ya,’ he said leaning in so his nose was nearly touching your own, ‘greedy lil thing that you are.’ ‘So what? We just fuck? I mean the other night I could understand but this, I mean what if it gets…complicated,’ Jerry said. ‘We’re all adults aren’t we?’ Elvis said, ‘unless you don’t think you could fuck her without falling in love with her?’ ‘I would never,’ Jerry protested, ‘she’s your girl.’ ‘And as long as we remember that I don’t see a problem. I know I can trust her. And I know whatever she’s not comfortable with she’ll tell me, right honey?’ Elvis asked. ‘Of course,’ you nodded, trying to ignore just how hot and bothered you were becoming at the prospect. How it worsened as that same sultry smile appeared on your husband’s face. ‘But you gotta be the same,’ Elvis said looking back at Jerry, ‘are you in?’   Jerry hit his lip as he deliberated on that point. And then he nodded gently.   ‘I’m in.’ ‘Great,’ Elvis said, ‘because I meant what I said. I think this could be good for us.’ ‘You’re happy with this, right Y/N?’ Jerry asked looking at you. ‘Yeah, I’m happy,’ you said. ‘Oh my baby’s always a happy lil thing aren’t ya,’ Elvis mused. ‘That’s because you treat me so good,’ you smiled. ‘Well, I have to what with you being oh so obliging and all,’ Elvis mused as he squeezed your thigh again making that coil in your belly tighten. Then he looked at Jerry, ‘you know Jer before we do this I wanna talk about something that happened the other night.’ ‘Oh?’ Jerry said shifting in his seat as his face became nervous. ‘Yeah because if we’re gonna do this I wouldn’t want us to get off on the wrong foot now would you?’ he asked. ‘Of course not,’ Jerry said. ‘You see I can't help but feel we’re on uneven playing ground at the moment,’ Elvis said. ‘How do you mean?’ Jerry asked his brows knitting together. ‘You see my girl here was oh so obliging, took care of you good and proper right?’ Elvis asked earning himself a nod, ‘but we haven’t seen you in action yet. And if we’re gonna do this I need to know she’s gonna be getting something out of the deal.’ ‘I didn’t know,’ Jerry said, ‘I didn’t know what you’d be comfortable with.’ ‘Oh I’m sure there’s plenty we’ll find out about don’t you?’ Elvis smirked, ‘but I know one thing she’d love from you.’ ‘What’s that?’ Jerry asked but Elvis didn’t answer him instead he looked at you with a smirk.   ‘You did as I asked?’ he said. You nodded, ‘why don’t you show Jer?’   You glanced at him and then at Jerry before you nodded and leaned forward to pull the fabric of your dress up off the floor wiggling it up until it bunched around your hips allowing a waft of cold air to hit your bare sex. Jerry’s eyes never left you, his pupils blown with lust as he watched.   ‘Pretty ain’t she?’ Elvis smirked as he pulled you onto his lap, your legs wrapped around either side of his spreading you open. ‘Gorgeous,’ Jerry said swallowing hard. ‘You want to touch her?’ Elvis asked. Jerry glanced at you and then nodded. ‘Can I?’ he asked. You nodded. ‘Use your words doll,’ Elvis said making you look at him. ‘Yes,’ you said as Jerry sank to his knees on the floor in front of the pair of you. He was essentially kneeling in between his boss's legs but that didn’t seem to faze him not with the show he was getting. ‘Atta girl,’ Elvis said, looking at Jerry who hadn’t done anything more than marvel at your slick folds, ‘well don’t just leave her hanging around man.’ ‘Right,’ Jerry said as if it hadn’t occurred to him.   He leaned forward teasing a finger through your folds before he spread your lips apart, your slick already there from listening to the conversation. You should’ve been embarrassed. You loved your husband and the thought of another man eating your pussy shouldn’t have gotten you that excited, but it did. As he leaned in and licked a flat swipe from base to tip Elvis’ hands found their way to your chest, fondling you through the satin and making your nipples harden. You heard him groan as he realised not only were you not wearing panties but the bra had been forgone as well.   Whilst his mouth attacked your neck, suckling and kissing every inch of skin he could reach Jerry lapped at you, his tongue flicking over your clit in a rhythm that was driving you wild.   ‘He doing a good job baby?’ Elvis grunted as you shifted your hips trying to get every sensation his friend was offering. ‘Yes,’ you panted. You could hear muffled conversations coming from the front of the car but they weren't loud or clear enough to even get you to come back into the realm of reality. Every movement of Jerry’s tongue was hitting another amazing spot and as he teased your entrance slipping two fingers into you without warning you moaned so loud you were sure the whole car would be able to hear.   ‘Fuck,’ Elvis grunted as your ass rubbed against him. You could feel him hard as a rock in his pants his hips meeting every movement of yours. ‘E,’ you whimpered, ‘fuck I’m gonna cum.’ ‘Ain’t me you gotta tell honey,’ Elvis said. ‘Jer,’ you moaned, ‘fuck Jer right there.’   Your hands knotted in the other man’s hair trying to keep him in that sweet spot as long as you could. He was pumping in and out of you, his fingers working expertly against the curve as his tongue focused on your clit. Jerry’s expert touch and Elvis’ loving caresses were edging you over into bliss with each passing second. The sensation of it all was too much.   ‘I’m gonna cum,’ you said earning a hum from Jerry in response. The vibration was enough to send you spiralling, your excitement spilling out of you in a way you had never anticipated. You could feel it drip down your legs no doubt soaking Jerry’s chin as he carried you through it. As you came down he pulled back and you looked down to find not only his chin glistening with your excitement but the shirt of his collar damp.   ‘Jeez,’ Elvis chuckled as he looked at the man who now looked a state. Jerry wiped his chin with the back of his hand and flopped back, not bothering to push himself back onto the seat just yet. You lay in Elvis’ arms, limp and lifeless, unable to pull yourself back together as your high faded. Elvis’ teasing touch was gone now, his touches tender as he wrapped his arms around you keeping you from flopping all over the joint.   ‘You good baby?’ he asked earning himself a weak nod, ‘Jer?’ ‘I’m good,’ Jerry said able to find his voice quicker than you had though you didn’t miss the somewhat smug smile now dancing across his lips as you lay there blissed out. ‘Forget good I’d say you were outstanding,’ he said, ‘ain’t ever seen her do that before.’ ‘Really?’ Jerry asked. ‘Nope, must have the magic touch huh honey?’ he chuckled kissing your temple. ‘I’ll say,’ you giggled. ‘Looks like we’re all on an even footing now huh?’ Elvis asked though at his words you realised something. ‘Not you,’ you said turning in his arms so you could look at him. You could still feel him hard against your ass which made you pout. ‘Well that ain’t what I signed up for,’ Jerry chuckled as he pushed himself onto the seat. ‘Me either,’ Elvis chuckled which grew louder as he noticed your frown, ‘look at you all worried about me.’ ‘I can help,’ you said turning yourself around until you were straddling him, your bare cunt against hot and wet against his slacks. You’d already made one load of laundry with Jerry. No harm in another. ‘I’m sure you can but we ain’t got that kinda time,’ Elvis said. Now that he said it you realised the freeway you had been on had now transformed back into normal roads meaning you were sure to be nearing your destination. ‘But that’s not fair,’ you whined making him smirk. ‘I don’t get my dick wet and it’s my wife who’s worrying,’ he chuckled, ‘can you believe it Jer?’ ‘I don’t know what to believe any more,’ Jerry chuckled. ‘E,’ you grumbled your hands going to his lapels.   ‘Don’t worry about me okay? Seeing you happy is what I want and from all that moanin’ I gather Jer made you very happy, right?’ he asked raising an eyebrow. You blushed but nodded, ‘so we’re good. Besides, Jer got you on the way over I didn’t promise anything about after.’ ‘Promise?’ you asked still pouting. ‘Do I ever say no to ya?’ he said making you smile. ‘Nope,’ you smiled as he leaned up to press a kiss to your lips. ‘Never can that’s my trouble,’ he smirked smacking your ass lightly making you realise you should climb off of him. Once you had slipped off his lap onto the seat beside him and fixed your dress you looped your arm through his, resting your head on his shoulder as he pressed a kiss into the top of your head. You closed your eyes for a beat but when you opened them you found Jerry watching you both in awe.   ‘You two are unbelievable you know that right?’ he said unable to help but smirk. ‘Hey you said you were all in man,’ Elvis chuckled, ‘don’t go changing your mind now.’ ‘Oh I must be unbelievable for agreeing to it,’ Jerry said. ‘You’re not backing out now right Jer?’ you giggled. ‘If he does he'd be going out on a high, huh baby?' Elvis teased. ‘Oh I think he should at least try and top this,’ you said smiling at Jerry. ‘I thought you might say that,’ Elvis said though as he did his attention trailed away and he looked out the tinted window which was now being permeated by camera flashes. You looked at each of you. Your dress was creased from where it had been gathered around your hips as were Elvis’ pants from where you had been moving against him. Still, Jerry looked the worst by far. His lips were puffy and red and since his collar hadn't quite dried yet it still had an off-white hue which varied from the rest of the shirt. Not to mention that though his hair had been straightened back into some semblance from the mess you had made with your fingers it wasn’t the perfectly coiffed style he had left the house with. You feared the back of your hair might be the same from the writhing you had done against Elvis’ shoulder. It made you blush which was odd to think of. In the moment you were outgoing and comfortable but the idea of people staring and muttering behind your back made nerves bubble into your stomach.   Once the car had stopped the camera flashes intensified something that didn’t help your nerves. You heard the clunk of the front doors opening and soon after Elvis’ door opened. He climbed out turning to offer his hand for you to hold onto which you did, the flashes of the camera hitting you the second you stepped out though Elvis didn’t seem to notice. Once you were upright he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you to him as he waved at the press waiting for a moment before he led you forward towards the venue.   He walked you quickly up to the front until finally you were out of the spotlight and safely in the confines of the lobby which is when you finally breathed a sigh of relief. Elvis seemed to notice the breath you had been holding as he pulled you closer leaning in so that only you could hear him.   ‘You okay?’ he asked. ‘Fine,’ you said before adding quietly, ‘you think anyone noticed?’ ‘That you just got fucked?’ he said so low you were sure only you heard him. When you didn’t say anything though he smiled sympathetically as he moved a strand of hair off your face, ‘no honey, I don’t think anyone knows.’ ‘Sorry I just panicked for a second,’ you admitted. ‘It’s alright,’ he said, ‘Jer on the other hand looks like he’s definitely just been fucked.’ ‘I went a little overboard huh?’ you giggled. ‘You were enjoying yourself,’ he said, ‘it was hot.’ ‘You sure you’re okay with it?’ you asked that panic slipping in again. ‘Promise,’ Elvis said before he nodded his head away from you, ‘come on sooner we get this over with sooner we can get back to our lil arrangement.’ ‘Okay,’ you said as he started to lead you towards the banquet hall, ‘but next time it’s about you.’ ‘You’ll hear no complaints from me,’ Elvis chuckled pulling you in so he could put his arm around your shoulder.   His words had comforted you. He was right, you were being paranoid. After all most of the eyes would be on him and out of the three of you he was the most presentable. And even if people did have things to say it wasn’t as though they were going to say it to your face. Your confidence was bolstered a little more as you all took to your seats, Jerry sitting on your other side with a smile on his face. What you didn’t notice though was the fact that two of the other members of your party had yet to arrive at the table. In fact, they had been hanging back watching the three of you interact, a suspicious look plastered across their faces.  

ELVIS TAGS

 @literally-just-elvis-fics @caitlin1996 @notstefaniepresley@18lkpeters

[pxnsneverland]

Beauty and the Boss | austin!elvis x oc (part 10)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana’s most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he’s just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she’s on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 2500

warnings/notes: N/A

Chapter 10

              Never before had I witnessed such a torrent of tears cascade from Elvis's eyes, despite the numerous tales he had shared with me about his childhood. He held onto me tightly, his grip unyielding, as the blinding flashes of the cameras illuminated the area. It was as if he feared that I, too, would slip away from his grasp if he dared to release his hold. In the midst of his anguished sobs, he valiantly responded to the probing inquiries of the reporters, each word escaping his lips with a raspy, hoarse timbre. As the minutes ticked by, the imposing figure of the Colonel cast a shadow over the amassed crowd, akin to a circling vulture, ever watchful and ready to strike. The weight of responsibility settled upon my shoulders, a resolute thought echoing through my mind. "I need to protect him," I whispered, my determination unwavering. 

              The passage of time resembled delicate petals carried by the whimsical breeze. Although Elvis continued to perform and make public appearances, there was a noticeable dimness in his eyes - a flicker that had once burned brightly with the love he had received from his Mama. Familiar was I with that ethereal glow, intimately acquainted with the searing ache that accompanied its absence. With persistent resolve, you pressed forward, steadfastly navigating the treacherous terrain of pain. It loomed ominously, an ever-present specter, poised to snatch away any semblance of tranquility you had managed to procure. I made every effort to maintain Elvis's high spirits to the best of my abilities. The majority of instances proved fruitful, as my efforts gradually yielded the desired outcome of coaxing a smile from him once more. In the moments when Elvis found respite from the relentless gaze of the public eye, he sought solace in the simplicity of our intimate relationship. On most occasions, we found solace within the confines of his room or the red room, enveloped in our own private realm, impervious to any external disturbances. The looming peril that my father presented gradually receded from my consciousness, transforming into a haunting reverie. Maybe, in a moment of resignation, he had come to the realization that I was resolute in my decision to stay with Elvis, regardless of his desperate attempts to win me back. In the depths of my consciousness, I harbored a flicker of hope, although I was acutely aware that it was merely a product of my own desires, a figment of my imagination.

              The delicate bubble of hope that enveloped me was abruptly burst one fateful afternoon, just as Elvis and I returned to the sanctuary of Graceland. Our spirits were still buoyant from a meeting that the Colonel had arranged with a prominent Hollywood producer. “Colonel said once this deal is signed he’ll make me a real actor,” Elvis declared with a wide grin, his voice filled with anticipation, “Starrin’ in real Hollywood movies.” As he skillfully maneuvered his vehicle, he arrived at the grand entrance, a sprawling driveway leading up to the majestic main house.  “Said he’s already got some potential actin’ parts already lined up. They’re just waitin’ for the go ahead.”

              A surge of joy enveloped me as I beheld his happiness. From the moment Elvis and I forged a profound relationship, his constant drive to pursue a career as a serious actor became a recurring theme in our conversations. “That’s amazin’, sweetheart! All your dreams comin’ true. Your Mama would be so proud of you.”

              A fleeting moment saw his smile transform into a melancholic expression. “Yeah, she would be. Especially since she left you here to look after me.” Elvis silenced the engine's rumble, yet remained motionless, his hand lingering on the ignition. Concealed behind the darkened lenses of his sunglasses, he exuded an air of profound contemplation. With a deliberate motion, he removed his sunglasses, revealing eyes that held a hint of weariness. His gaze shifted downward, fixating on his lap, as if seeking solace or perhaps contemplating the weight of the world. “You know, darlin’…when this deal is signed and all…I’m gonna have to move to California for a while.”

              Naturally, I had been aware of that fact, yet I couldn't help but wonder why he appeared so visibly anxious. Had the Colonel had informed him of mine being unable to accompany them? The words uttered by that man were truly astonishing. If I had to, I'd go kicking and screaming and battling him all the way. I refused to allow him to manipulate Elvis's mind in my absence. “I know that.”

              “Well…” His gaze fell upon me in that moment. His hands trembled ever so slightly, betraying a hidden vulnerability. “I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come with me…”

              Was that the source of his anxiety? Was he not aware of the unwavering devotion that bound me to his side, propelling me to traverse the vast expanse of this world and venture even further into the unknown? “As if you c---”

              “As my wife.” The suddenness with which he interrupted me left me momentarily stunned, struggling to fully comprehend his words. A tingling sensation enveloped my mouth, rendering it momentarily numb, as his hand delved into the depths of his jacket pocket. With a graceful motion, he retrieved a petite velvet box. Nestled within the confines of the box lay a resplendent diamond ring, its brilliance so captivating that I could only imagine the staggering price tag it bore. The mere thought of inquiring about its value threatened to overwhelm my senses, as if the revelation would render me unconscious in disbelief. “I know we ain’t never talked about gettin’ married and California is basically a whole ‘nother world compared to Graceland. And I know I’m just some mafia leader who lucked himself into a singin’ career. But, Laura Jean, I ain’t met anyone like you and I’m sure I never will again. You know the real me, the good parts and the bad and still you choose to love me. And I love you so much I feel like my heart is gonna burst every time you look at me.” A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “Will you marry me?”

              As I savored the moment, a peculiar sensation overcame me - it was as if my tongue had undergone a remarkable transformation, expanding within the confines of my mouth. Words eluded me, trapped within the confines of my mind. Elvis Presley, you have my heart. Unbeknownst to you, it was your actions that liberated me from the confines of my cage. I found myself nodding vigorously, my heart brimming with joy as tears of happiness cascaded down my cheeks. Elvis's apprehensive face swiftly dissipated as he delicately extracted the ring from its ornate box, gracefully sliding it onto my awaiting finger. With an ardent embrace, I enveloped my arms around his neck, drawing myself closer to the driver's seat as if our souls were intertwined. In a moment of undeniable passion, I pressed my lips against his, savoring the taste of our connection. His hands gently cradled my face, as if holding a fragile treasure. In that tender embrace, both of us silently yearned for time to stand still, desperate to prolong this fleeting moment of bliss. However, it complied with the natural order of things, for both of us were compelled to breathe.

              “Is that a yes?” he uttered in a hushed tone, his lips lingering in proximity to mine.

              “As if anything could keep me away from you.”

              Our attachment was abruptly severed by the jarring clamor emanating from the passenger's side door. Jerry and Billy were in a state of frantic panic. Elvis appeared visibly perturbed by the untimely interruption that had disrupted the delicate tinder moment we were sharing. As we emerged from the vehicle, Elvis's exit was marked by a resounding slam, a touch more forceful than his customary manner.

“Jerry! Billy! What the hell is wrong with y’all bangin’ on my car like that?!” Elvis yelled as he came around to stand next to me on the other side of the car.

“Move! EP, you guys gotta move!” Jerry's voice pierced the air, its urgency leaving no room for questions. In a swift motion, he and Billy seized us, their hands tugging us away from the vehicle, propelling us to safety. As we ascended the staircase of the estate, a thunderous explosion erupted, shattering the tranquility of the moment, and sending us sprawling to the ground, our senses overwhelmed by the sheer force of the blast. With lightning-fast reflexes, Elvis deftly intercepted my impending collision, ensuring that instead of a painful impact with the unforgiving corner of the steps, I found myself safely ensconced in his protective embrace. The formidable force barreled through the rustling foliage, causing a tempestuous dance among the leaves. Its unyielding power was such that it shattered a window, sending shards of glass cascading into the delicate embrace of the flower bed below.

“Are you alright, darlin’?” Elvis asked, his voice filled with frantic urgency, my head still buried in the comforting embrace of his chest.

I gently nodded, finding comfort in his eyes. Gently, my fingertips grazed his cheek, tracing the faint mark that now marred his otherwise flawless skin. “I’m fine. What happened?”

Without granting him a moment to respond, I swiftly averted my gaze towards Elvis's vehicle, the very one that had sheltered us mere moments ago. Alas, it now stood consumed by a raging inferno, its once pristine exterior scattered haphazardly across the manicured lawn. The sudden and devastating explosion of a car bomb sent shockwaves through the air, shattering the tranquility of the surrounding area. As we embarked on our journey back, little did we know that it had been concealed within the confines of our vehicle all along. How was it possible that the explosive had not detonated? The distant wail of fire sirens reached my ears, their mournful cry piercing. With a swift motion, Elvis extended his hand towards me, urging me to rise from the ground. In a flurry of movement, he guided me towards the entrance of the house, accompanied by the presence of Jerry and Billy. Elvis's chest rose and fell with each breath, a rhythmic testament to the intensity of his emotions. A crimson hue had overtaken his countenance, transforming him into the very embodiment of the merciless gangster I had come to recognize he could be. His eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze upon Jerry and Billy.

“Now, y’all wanna tell me how you knew there was a bomb in my car?” With lightning speed, Elvis lunged forward, seizing Jerry by the collar of his shirt. In one swift motion, he propelled him forcefully against the wall, causing a delicate vase to topple and shatter upon impact. “HOW DID YOU KNOW?! I swear, Jerry, if you’re turning against me now, I’ll kill you!”

Billy reached out, his fingers grasping Elvis's shoulder in a desperate attempt to dislodge Jerry. Alas, his efforts proved fruitless as Elvis remained firmly planted, unyielding to Billy's feeble endeavor. “It wasn’t us! We would never do that to you, EP.”

With a sudden, swift motion, Elvis's head whipped around.  “Then how did you know about the bomb?!”

In a moment of revelation, Billy unveiled a crumpled piece of paper that had eluded my attention until now. As a result of this unforeseen turn of events, Elvis made the difficult decision to release Jerry from his grip, allowing him to escape the clutches of danger. Elvis snatched the crumpled paper from Billy's grasp, his fingers delicately caressing its surface in an attempt to restore its former glory. His intent was clear - to decipher the words that lay hidden beneath the folds and creases, as if unraveling a mystery that begged to be solved. I peered over his shoulder, aching to catch a glimpse of the words myself:

I left Mr. Presley a little gift in his car. Fame can’t protect him forever. -Walker

              There was virtually no limit to how far this man might go. The audacious act of targeting Elvis's car with a bomb was a shocking and brazen endeavor. The potential for tragedy loomed ominously, as he possessed the capacity to end not only my life but also the lives of any unsuspecting individuals residing within the confines of Graceland, should they have found themselves in the ill-fated vehicle alongside Elvis. However, that was precisely the crux of the matter. In the discerning gaze of his eyes, none among us could claim innocence, not even I. Daddy, in his unyielding pursuit of victory, would not hesitate crush those who managed to surpass him in his own domain. As for myself, I would bear the consequences of daring to challenge his authority. This was the grand canine spectacle he had been forewarning me of. It was a world beyond mere blades and fist fights. Lives teetered on the precipice, their delicate balance hanging in the order, and among them, my own existence dangled precariously. In the depths of my contemplation, my mind wandered to the memory of my beloved mother. Her existence, tragically shortened by a conflict that had never been her own. Was I fated to be trapped in the relentless cycle of history's repetition? In contemplating the potential aftermath of my demise, a lingering question arises within me: would Elvis succumb to the same frigid detachment that seemed to consume Daddy's soul? Would the loss of my presence render him distant and devoid of emotion, mirroring the very essence of my father? Before me, time slipped away like a fleeting wisp of smoke, leaving me bereft of the opportunity to engage in deep contemplation. It was in this moment, when the world seemed to hold its breath, that the phone, with its insistent ring, shattered the silence. With an air of anticipation, Elvis effortlessly grasped the phone, as though he possessed an innate understanding of the identity of the caller on the other end. His anger intensified with each passing moment, fueled by the words that resonated through the receiver.

              “You sick, twisted bastard!” he bellowed vehemently through the telephone, “You could have killed her! If you want me dead so bad, you come here and face me yourself. You know where to find me.” With a force that seemed capable of shattering the delicate device, he abruptly terminated the call. “Jerry, Billy, gather everyone up. We gotta visitor comin’. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” With a firm grip, Elvis clasped my hand and whisked me away, his footsteps resounding through the labyrinthine hallways. “Laura Jean, I don’t want you leavin’ my side you hear me? Not until all of this is over.”

              “Elvis, what’s goin’ on? Who was that on the phone? What did they say?” There was no real need for me to ask questions. I knew.

              “Your Daddy is comin’,” he uttered the words, in a voice ablaze with the fury of damnation.

Stay tuned for part 11!! Click HERE to view!

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter Six

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: discussions of virginity and intimacy issues, mentions of sexual acts, mentions of meg*n f*x (lol) but their relationship was never public, mentions of panic attacks/anxiety, skinny dipping, swearing, marijuana usage

This is a shorter chapter than usual and it's just Presley's POV, but that's because the next chapter is smut and it is DETAILED, y'all. So it needed its own chapter.

Presley

It’s easy to be quiet during dinner because everyone else is chatty. I smile at all the right times and eat just enough food to appear normal, but my stomach is in knots. I can’t believe I told Colson that I’m still a virgin. No one knows now except for him and me. I want to grab my secret back and hold it close, but I can’t.

It just came out. When he brought up how difficult it must be for me to sleep with people, I just froze. I didn’t know what to say. I’ve never really lied about it, but no one’s ever asked. I just don’t ever talk about it and people assume I’ve had sex. Somehow, I just couldn’t deny it from Colson. Ever since I met him, I’ve had this weird trust in him. He makes me feel safe.

Everyone is tired, so we call it an early night and retreat back to our homes. Colson lets me lead the way inside and I go straight to the bedroom, kicking off my sandals before lying face first on the bed. My throat feels tight and I’m scared, but I know we have to talk about it.

I feel the bed sink beside me and then, Colson’s warm hand is spanning the small of my back. His touch ignites a fire in me. Let’s get something straight: I’m not a virgin because I’m not interested in sex. I very much am. I actually have a pretty high sex drive. But my insecurities overpower my desires. 

I turn my head so I can look at him. He’s lying on his side, looking at me with those beautiful eyes. He looks so good and all I want to do is grab him and kiss him, to trust him enough to let him take my clothes off and touch me. But I’m trembling hard just thinking about having this conversation. Intimacy is next to impossible for me. 

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hey,” I reply.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Colson says, “but I’m a good listener.”

I sigh softly and nod, slowly sitting up. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I say softly. Colson frowns, his eyes deep with sadness. I just shrug. “I don’t know why I’m like this. I’ve had many opportunities to date and even to sleep with people, but I freak out every time. Just the thought of it makes me feel like I’m going to have a panic attack. So it’s just easier not to do it.”

Colson studies my face. “But…but don’t you want to?” He asks. 

I huff a soft laugh and look away, focusing on my nails instead. “Of course I do,” I mutter. “I’m only human.”

“You’re depriving yourself of something amazing because of your fears,” he says. It isn’t a question or an accusation. He states it as a fact. 

I nod. “Yeah.”

Colson sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “I know we all have our own insecurities and it doesn’t matter what we look like,” he says. “But Pres. You’re literally a ten out of ten.”

I can’t help but smile at his comment. “Takes one to know one,” I say wryly, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. 

Colson’s smile is bright and warm. It melts me. 

“Do you ever want to?” He asks.

I bite my lip, anxiety rising in me like a wave. “I mean, of course I do,” I admit. “I want to so badly. It gets worse the longer I wait. But I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”

Colon watches me, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “Have you done anything?”

I’m quiet.

“Kissed someone?’

“Of course.”

“Made out?”

“Yes.”

“Been fingered? Given a hand job?”

I blush and look down, shaking my head. My cheeks burn with shame. 

“Never even dry humped?”

“Barely,” I reply. “Guys just think I play hard to get. They have no idea why I really turn them down.”

Colson whistles softly, looking out the window at the ocean as the sun sets. “I’m sorry,” he says. “My mind is just blown.”

“Yeah.” I let out a big sigh and rest my head back against the headboard. “I know. I’m sure you can’t imagine. How old were you when you lost it?”

“Way too young,” Colson answers. “That’s all you need to know. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” He pauses. “I wish I would take sex a little more seriously. Like, of course I get consent and I always make my partners come but I guess I’m just going through the motions at this point.”

I swallow hard, but I don’t look at him. This is easier when we don’t have to make eye contact. “Have you ever had sex with someone you love?” I ask.

Colson is quiet for so long that I almost think he isn’t going to answer. Finally, he replies with a short, “Yes.”

“You don’t want to talk about it?” I ask.

Colson chews his lip. “I do, actually,” he confesses. “It’s just…it’s hard. I haven’t talked about it with anyone.”

“Well, you’re the only person that knows I’m a virgin, so it’s only fair I get one of your secrets, too.” I smile softly and so does he.

He takes a deep breath. “I was pretty serious with someone a little over a year ago,” he says. “I fell in love with her. I’d never been in love but I could tell I loved her. I was obsessed with her. Wanted to be around her all the time. Wanted to marry her.” 

A glance at his hands shows me that they’re trembling. This really is hard for him to talk about. 

“She was basically using me. I was her rebound,” he mutters. “She was really distant for a while, and then I saw paparazzi photos with her ex.”

I wince. “She’s famous?”

Colson nods. “Yeah. Uh. It was Megan Fox,” he says.

I can’t help but gasp. How did this never come out? “Holy shit,” I say. 

“Yeah,” Colson mutters. “She broke my heart. That’s why all I do is sleep with people. I refuse to get deeper.”

“That’s fair,” I say. I hesitate before asking the next question. “Are you still in love with her?”

Colson considers this, then shakes his head. “I think she’ll always have a part of me, but no. I’m not.”

“That’s good,” I say.

“Yeah. It is.” He looks at me then, and he looks…lighter. “Thanks for listening. I haven’t talked to anyone about it. It’s good to let it out.”

“Same,” I say, realizing how much better I feel now that someone else knows my secret. Maybe it doesn’t change anything, but it’s nice not to be the only one carrying it.

I scoot closer to Colson and rest my head on his shoulder. I’m surprised when he scoops me into his lap, but I go with it, sliding an arm around his shoulder. 

“Thanks for listening,” I say softly. 

“Thank you for listening,” he replies, smiling at me, and our faces are so damn close, and I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly before. But I force myself to look away.

I can’t. I just can’t. 

“Hey,” Colson says. “I have an idea.”

“Hm?” I reply, still flustered from our almost kiss.

“Just hear me out,” he says. 

I lean back a little and look at him warily. 

He chuckles. “Let’s go skinny dipping.”

I’m silent, waiting for the punchline. “Were you not a part of that conversation we just had?” I ask.

Colson laughs. “I was. That’s why I’m suggesting it. Hear me out,” he says. “I’ll get in first and turn around. Then, you’ll get in. It’s dark enough so that I won’t see anything, but then you’ll get to practice being naked in front of someone.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Damn. That’s actually a good idea.”

Colson grins widely. “I know.”

I roll my eyes but smile. “Can we smoke first?”

“Is the sky above us? Duh.”

XX

After a blunt, I’m feeling a little more relaxed. Still nervous, but it’s actually a really clever idea. We’re out on the deck of our little house, both wrapped in giant beach towels. Colson looks over at me and raises a brow. “Ready?”

I nod. “Ready.”

“I’ll go first,” he says. “Gonna drop my towel now, so if you don’t want to see my pale, nonexistent ass, I’d close your eyes.”

I laugh and do as I’m told. I wait until I hear a splash and then open my eyes, immediately finding Colson in the water. My heart starts to beat a little faster. “I’m not going to get eaten by a shark, right?” I ask.

“No,” Colson says. “You’ll be totally fine. I’m gonna turn around now, okay?”

“Okay,” I say weakly.

“Pres?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re safe.” His voice is calming and soft, but I can still hear him. “I promise.”

A lump forms in my throat. Who would've known that MGK was this sensitive, kind man? With his words, I drop my towel and ease myself into the water. “Okay,” I say once the water is up to my shoulders. “I’m in.”

Colson turns around and smiles at me as soon as he sees me. “You’re doing it,” he says. “You’re naked in front of someone.”

“Shit,” I say, laughing shakily. “I am.”

Colson smiles widely. “I’m proud of you.”

I blush. “I know this seems stupid—”

“Stop,” Colson says. “We all have our things. I’m the last person who can judge you.” 

I don’t say anything. Slowly, I start to relax. I can’t see Colson’s body which means he definitely can’t see mine. I’m safe. But part of me thinks that even if he did see me, I’d still be safe. 

“Hey. Let’s play 20 questions,” he says.

“Okay.” I kick my legs gently in the warm water. “You first.”

“Tell me about your family.”

“Okay,” I say. “Well, obviously Cash is my best friend. My parents are the coolest people you’ll ever meet. We’re all really close. All of my grandparents have passed and both my parents were only children, so it’s really just us four.”

“That’s wild,” Colson says. “All of that.”

“What about your family?”

Colson runs a hand through his hair, turning the bleached locks darker with water. “Well,” he sighs. “My dad died a few years ago. I’m not in contact with my mom. She left when I was little.”

“Colson, I’m so sorry.” I frown.

“I don’t regret anything,” he says. “My dad and I made amends and got closer before he died.”

“That’s good. No siblings?”

“Nope,” he says. “That’s why my boys are so important to me. They’re like family.” 

“That makes sense,” I say. 

“Alright, your turn.”

“Hm. Did you play sports in school?” I ask.

Colson chuckles. “Yep. Football in high school and some basketball here and there. You?”

“Volleyball,” I answer. 

“Makes sense with your height,” he says. “Tell me about your friends back home.”

I wet my lips, shrugging. “I’m not super close with anyone,” I say. “I’m friends with the people at the shop, but we don’t usually hang out. I kind of roll solo. Cash is honestly my best friend.”

“Has it been hard having him gone?” Colson asks.

“Yeah,” I confess with a nod. “It really has. I’m so happy for him, really I am.”

“But?” Colson asks when I fall quiet.

“But Cash is the only person I really talk to about serious stuff,” I explain. “Without him around, it’s been rough. Lonely.”

Colson considers this, then swims a little closer. I tense up slightly, but he stops a few feet away. “I’m glad you’re with us right now,” he says. “You should stay.”

My brow furrows. “How?” I ask. “I can’t just mooch off Cash forever. I need to make money and have a career.”

“You have any experience managing?” He asks.

“I mean, I manage my own schedule at the shop,” I say with a shrug.

“Ashleigh and Olivia always need help,” he says. “I’m sure we could pay you to help them.”

“Don’t do it because you feel bad for me, Colson,” I say, shaking my head.

“I’m not,” he insists. “It’s just an option if you decide you want to stay.”

”Okay,” I say after a moment. “Well, thank you. That’s super nice of you.”

Colson watches me, and I squirm a little. “I like having you around,” he says.

“I like being around,” I reply. “I don’t know why, but you just feel…”

“Safe?” Colson asks.

“Exactly.”

“So do you,” Colson says. “I feel like I can talk to you about anything. It’s crazy.”

“Agreed,” I say. “I don’t know what it is. I should be so intimidated by you, and I am to some degree.”

Colson’s brows draw together. “Why should you be intimidated by me?”

I give him a look. “Really? You’re Machine Gun Kelly,” I remind him, and he rolls his eyes. “You’re hot as fuck. Girls fall at your feet. You should scare the hell out of me.”

“See, I hate that,” he says. “I hate the idea of being a celebrity.” He puts air quotes around the word. “I don’t want to be intimidating. I used to want to be, but not anymore. I want to be approachable. I want people to know that I’m actually a pretty chill guy. A nice guy.”

“The people who are important do know that, Colson,” I tell him. “Your real fans, you know?”

Colson considers, then nods. “You think so?” he asks. 

“Yes,” I say honestly. “The vibe at your shows is so intimate even when there are tons of people. Everyone is getting along and just enjoying your music. It’s really special, honestly.”

Colson cracks a little smile. “Huh. I’m glad to hear that,” he says. His eyes meet mine again. “Pres…”

I bite my lip, listening. It seems like he’s going to say something important.

“You shouldn’t shut out the idea of a relationship,” he says. “Some guy is going to love you and your body exactly how you are. You deserve that.”

I chew my lip. “But so do you, Colson,” I say. “You got your heart broken. That’s horrible. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try again.”

Colson shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess. I’m just so busy, it’s hard to even meet people.”

It stings to talk about this, to think about Colson pursuing another woman, but I’m not here to be anything other than a supportive friend. “Your life might not be like this forever,” I say with a shrug. “Maybe you’ll settle down a little and then you’ll meet someone.”

“Presley,” Colson says roughly, and my heart stutters. I barely breathe while I wait to hear what he’s going to say, but he just shakes his head. “Do you want to go in?”

“Oh,” I say. “Sure.” 

“Do you want to get out first?” He asks. “I promise I won’t look.”

“Sure.” He turns around and I watch him longingly for a second, the way the moon illuminates the Dalí piece on his back. I stifle a sigh and climb out of the water, wrapping up in my towel. “Okay,” I say, turning around as he gets out, too. I lead the way inside, take pajamas into the bathroom, change, wash my face, and brush my teeth. I’m tired now. 

When I exit the bathroom, Colson is sprawled on top of the covers in his boxer briefs, hands behind his head, and all of a sudden, I’m aching. I’ve wanted sex before, sure, but I’ve never wanted a person as badly as I want Colson. This is a slippery slope, sharing a bed, skinny dipping, talking about our secrets, but at the same time, it’s clear he isn’t going to make a move, so I guess I’m just stuck pining after him. 

I climb under the blankets and yawn. “Night, Col.”

“You okay, Pres?” He asks.

“Yeah,” I say. Despite everything, I am. “Thank you for everything tonight. That was…that was a big step for me.”

Colson’s hand brushes my hair off my shoulder and my eyelids immediately grow heavy. “Happy to help,” he says.

I’m confused. Confused but happy and relaxed. I’m too tired to really figure it out, so when the light switches off and Colson curls his long body around mine, I fall right to sleep.

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Pregnancy and birth do things to a womans body so after the second or third pregnancy does Elaine ever get insecure? The stretch marks, the saggy skin in areas, I think it’s beautiful but Elvis was always peculiar on the way people looked but he may have found it more beautiful because she got those growing his children

Aha, so…this is a very valid consideration and one I intend to explore in fic form but until then, let us have a few half baked thoughts, here’s to hoping you like cookie dough. 😏

He was most definitely particular (some might say to the point of extreme vanity and oppressiveness) in regards to image, presentation and a sort of decorum, and I might add it seems to me that it fluctuated with his career. There was certainly a fastidiousness about the front he presented that I can totally relate to, actually. I think it good to keep in mind how seriously he tried to take the influence he had on the public, considering his purpose to both entertain and uplift. He expected a high standard in women, one he did not hold himself to but matched in other areas. And in many ways he represents a lost generation where dignity meant getting outta your PJs in the morning for the morale, your morale, like a soldier shaving despite living in a foxhole. So, those are perhaps the more substantive reasons for his preoccupation with image, and we certainly have a glimpse into what darkness that could turn into with the “truth” according to Pricilla. (zero shade intended, just a acknowledging a bias there)

Now, let’s see what else we know of this man and his love and loyalty to the “imperfect.” He was consistently unashamed and purposeful to love on and be seen with those who the world at large labels “disabled.” His own mother, like he himself in later life, struggled with the publicity shined on their body weight in a entirely callous era of journalism -through it all he remained devoted and proud of their love, his choice was to repeatedly have her front and center. What am I getting at here? Elvis was a nice guy cause he hung out with other people besides Barbie Dolls? Nope, rather, when he had an affection for and a reason for loyalty to someone, it didn’t matter much at all to him what the world at large said or thought of them.

So let’s imagine a world where he’s married to Elaine, a woman who was already blessed with acknowledged beauty and assets, in a era of girdles and privileged with a celebrity lifestyle, who had no desire to be a star or a model. She wanted to use her body up having kids and while they both may have been surprised at the toll at times, I think the fact that she had the luxury to just be in her skin, not trying to trim down for the next role or modeling gig would do wonders for her recovery and self esteem. It’s still brutal to be Elvis Presley’s wife, and let’s just say the late 60’s are an unkind time and the little movie star floozies keep getting younger and tinier and it’s all a bit of an ouch, but ultimately? -She is his wife, the love of his life and his rabid sentimentality does indeed translate to the marks and scars and testaments to the family they built now branded on her skin.

[eptodaytommorowforever]

On This Day The 5th November In 1962 Elvis Presley Gives A Fascinating Insight And An Interview For Parade Magazine About What Is Plans Are For The Future.

Right now I’d like to get married, but the older I get, the more choosy I become. To me right now the most desirable characteristics in a girl are a sense of humor, understanding and loyalty. I’ve dated quite a few girls, and women with those qualities are mighty hard to find, especially understanding.” — Parade magazine, November 5, 1962. Very Rare Unseen Promo Publicity Photo Of Elvis Presley Till Now! Taken By RCA Here In 1962 For To Promote Is 1962 RCA Album Pot Luck

[nordleuchten]

24 Days of La Fayette: December 23rd – Presley Neville

Presley Neville (1756-1818) came from a wealthy and prominent Virginian family that had senior members serving with George Washington during the French and Indian War.

Presley was born on September 6, 1756 in Winchester, Virginia. He was the only surviving son and oldest child of General John Neville and Winifred (Oldham) Neville. The two had married on August 24, 1754. The family moved from Frederick County in Virginia to the outskirts of Pittsburgh in about 1775. Despite this, the men fought in the Virginia line of the Continental Army and not in the Pennsylvania line.

Neville was one of La Fayette’s earliest aide-de-camps when he joined the Marquis’ staff in December of 1777. The early months of his service were unremarkably but we have a number of letters that he copied for La Fayette. But things soon became rather more exciting.

In October of 1778, La Fayette desired promotions for his aide-de-camps, but out of the four men he recommended, only his two American aide-de-camps, Edmund Brice (day 1) and Neville received promotions. George Washington wrote in a letter to Henry Laurens on October 30, 1778:

“To George Washington from Henry Laurens, 30 October 1778,” Founders Online, National Archives, [Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 17, 15 September–31 October 1778, ed. Philander D. Chase. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2008, pp. 647–649.] (06/07/2023)

When La Fayette planned to return to France for the first time since joining the army, he requested that Neville would be permitted to accompany him. He wrote to Washington on January 1, 1779:

This letter will be delivered to your excellency by Mr. Nevill may aid de Camp whom I beg you to favor with a leave of absence for joining me in France. Besides the affection I have for that gentleman, I also think this voyage may forward the public good as he will be intrusted with those dispatches Congress is going to send. (…) I also intreat your friendship not to forget writing to me, and if you grant the leave I solicit for Mr. Nevill his arrival with letters from you will make me extremely happy.

Gottschalk, Bill, editors, The Letters of Lafayette to Washington,1777-1779, The American Philosophical Society, Philadelphia, 1976, p. 73.

Washington granted La Fayette’s request and he then told friends like Hamilton that Neville was joining him in France. He even wrote the Comte de Vergennes on May 23, that he was expecting three American and one French officer. The only problem; Neville never did leave America, and La Fayette was not aware of this fact.

Washington wrote to La Fayette on March 8-10, 1779:

(…) I have not had the Letters returned to me by Majr Neville, who I am told (but this is no excuse) is indisposed at Fish-kill (…)

“From George Washington to Major General Lafayette, 8–10 March 1779,” Founders Online, National Archives, [Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 19, 15 January–7 April 1779, ed. Philander D. Chase and William M. Ferraro. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2009, pp. 401–405.] (06/07/2023)

The postscript of the same letter reads:

I have this moment receivd the letters which were in the hands of Majr Neville; accompanied by yr favors of the 7th & 11th of Jany. the Majr himself is not yet arrived at head Qrs; being, as I am told, very sick (…)

This is quite the peculiar statement since La Fayette himself was severely indisposed in Fishkill prior to leaving America – and Neville’s luck was far from improving over the coming months.

La Fayette wrote on June 12, 1779 to Washington:

I don’t know what is Become of Cle. Nevill and the Cher. de La Colombe. I beg you would make some inquiries for them, and do any thing in your power for theyr speedy exchange in case they have been taken.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 2, April 10, 1778–March 20, 1780, Cornell University Press, 1978, p. 278.

Washington replied on September 30, 1779:

Colo. Neville called upon me about a month since and was to have dined with us the next day but did not come, since which I have not seen him nor do I know at this time where he is. He had then but just returned from his own home & it was the first time I had seen him since he parted with you at Boston. It is probable he may be with the Virginia Troops which lye at the mouth of Smith’s Cloves abt. 30 mile from hence.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 2, April 10, 1778–March 20, 1780, Cornell University Press, 1978, p. 315.

Neville served for a time as lieutenant-colonel in the 8th Virginia Regiment. He became a prisoner of War on May 12, 1780 after the Fall of Charlestown together with John Laurens. He was quickly paroled and finally exchanged in May of 1781. La Fayette instructed the Chevalier de La Luzerne on June 20, 1780:

May I presume to ask you to convey a million compliments to Monsieur de Marbois and to find out if the son of Colonel Neville, called Lieutenant Colonel Presley Neville, my former aide-de-camp, is among the prisoners?

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 3, April 27, 1780–March 29, 1781, Cornell University Press, 1980, p. 57.

La Fayette also wrote to Nathanael Greene on November 10, 1780:

I have a Request to Make, My dear Sir, Which is extremely interesting to me. Young Nevile, My aid de camp, a Captain By Commission, and a Lieutenant Colonel By Brevet was taken as a Volonteer at Charlestown. The General has told me that you was invested with full Powers to treat for the Southern Prisoners. Nothing, May Give me a Greater pleasure than to have My poor Nevile out of the Scrape which his zeal and Bravery have thrown him into. I was thinking of writing to him, But upon Recollection Believe it More advantageous to his exchange that No Notice Be taken of him till he has obtain’d his freedom.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 3, April 27, 1780–March 29, 1781, Cornell University Press, 1980, p. 224.

Neville was not permitted to leave the city of Philadelphia as part of his parole. But when La Fayette was himself in Philadelphia, the two men met and the Marquis was more determined than ever to get his “favourite” back. He consulted Washington on this matter on December 9, 1780:

I have found here Lt. Clel. Nevill my old aid de camp. He came with Gal. Woodfort to Newyork. It is said that Gal. Lincoln’s aids have been exchang’d and that it is generally the case with aids de camp to Gal. officers actually in our service. I warmly desire to have him. I am told Cornwallis has no powers to treat those matters. Can you, my dear general, think of some method to get him out which it is proper for me to take? I am more than ever puzzled, my dear general, to know what to do.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 3, April 27, 1780–March 29, 1781, Cornell University Press, 1980, p. 254-255.

Washington replied to La Fayette on December 14, 1780:

It would add to my pleasure if I could encourage your hope of Colo. Nevilles exchange. I refused to interest myself in the exchange of my own aid. Genl. Lincoln’s were exchanged with himself, and upon that occasion (for I know of no other) Congress passed a resolve prohibiting exchanges out of the order of captivity.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 3, April 27, 1780–March 29, 1781, Cornell University Press, 1980, p. 259.

After his exchange in May of 1781, Nevill returned to serve as La Fayette’s aide-de-camp during July of 1781 – until he was captured again. La Fayette wrote on August 12, 1781 to Nathanael Greene:

I May add that Clel. Nevill and Mr. Langhorne Being prisoners, I Have No aid de Camp But McHenry and Washington, But I am willing to give up My interest to your wishes, and McHenry's Remaining Some time with me is owing to an other Circumstance.

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 4, April 1, 1781–December 23, 1781, Cornell University Press, 1981, p. 319.

The details of Neville’s second capture are unknown. He was released sometimes in 1782 and as far as I can tell never returned to serve under La Fayette. Instead, he married Nancy Morgan, the daughter of General Daniel Morgan in 1782 and they moved with their family to a house known as Woodville about six miles west of Pittsburgh. Their home was situated on the banks of the Chartiers Creek and Neville’s father lived on the opposite site of the creek. Around 1794 he served as inspector for the Allegheny County militia. His county also saw a great opposition to the Act repealing, after the last day of June next, the duties heretofore laid upon Distilled Spirits imported from abroad, and laying others in their stead; and also upon Spirits distilled within the United States, and for appropriating the same, better known as the act that raised taxes on alcohol distilled within the United States. Both Presley Neville as well as his father General John Neville found themselves the victims of attacks and threats during the Whisky Rebellion. It did not help much that Neville was the agent for procuring whiskey for the army.

On December 10, 1819, shortly after his father’s death, Neville’s son Morgan Neville addressed himself to Thomas Jefferson with a particular interest:

The Motive for my present communication, must plead my Excuse for intruding upon you, & the history of your Life, is a pledge to every American, that the humblest request will be attended to.

I am the Representative of the late General D. Morgan of Virginia, to whom Congress presented a gold Medal for the battle of the Cowpens. This descended to me as the eldest male Grandchild of this officer. Unfortunately, a Bank, in which the Medal was deposited, was last year robbed, & this with many other valuable articles belonging to me, was taken. I have lost all hopes of recovering it, as I have reason to believe that one of the Robbers threw it into the St Lawrence: I leave it to you, sir, to judge of my mortification since this event.

I have determined to petition Congress, through my friend, the honorable Henry Baldwin, to pass a Resolution authorizing me to have one struck at my Expense; as my situation however, at present would not permit me to take advantage of such a resolution, without having the original Die, I have written on the subject to Mr Gallatin, & to the Marquis de la Fayette, whose Aid de Camp, my father the late General Presley Neville was, in “77. Since writing to these gentlemen it has occurred to me that, as the Medals voted by Congress were executed under your direction, you might be able to assist me with your advice; if I be not mistaken you employed on that occasion three artists; Duvivier, Dupré, & Cateau. My Grandfather’s was executed by Dupré. Any information which you may have the goodness to give me as to where these dies were deposited; whose property you consider them; the possibility of my procuring the one I want, & what course I ought to pursue, will be most gratefully acknowledged by me. By gratifying me with a reply to this communication, you will lay me under a most serious obligation.

“Morgan Neville to Thomas Jefferson, 10 December 1819,” Founders Online, National Archives, [Original source: The Papers of Thomas Jefferson, Retirement Series, vol. 15, 1 September 1819 to 31 May 1820, ed. J. Jefferson Looney. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2018, pp. 276–278.] (06/07/2023)

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 11

A/N: I'm on a roll with this one right now, so I figured I'd go ahead and publish this. ICYMI, this is the soulmate/time travel AU with Elvis and a fem!reader.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and biting 😏

Word count: ~3k

Somehow, you're pregnant with the child of Elvis Presley.

******

On March 12, 2017 you give birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy. You name him John Jessie and he has your hair and Elvis's bright blue eyes. When the doctor hands him to you, you weep openly for so many reasons, but mainly because you wish Elvis could be there to see him.

And sure, you could've made a portal sometime while you were pregnant or in that first year, but you didn't. First because you were afraid he'd change his mind about staying in his time, and second because you wanted his first experience of fatherhood to be with Lisa Marie.

But once Lisa is born, you start to think about telling him. In the evenings when you rock John Jessie to sleep, the desire to let his father know about him overwhelms you. The same thing inside you that made you tell him about your engagement all those years ago is now telling you to find him and tell him about his son.

You even have the wild inclination to pack John Jessie up and bring him with you. You consider going to his time forever and just living as an unknown girlfriend. But you think about what it would mean for Elvis if anyone found out you were there with his son. His reputation would be ruined. And aside from that, you don't want to risk taking him away from Lisa Marie in any way. There's no telling how Priscilla might react if she ever found out about you.

So instead you pack up an envelope of pictures for him to see, put it in your bag filled with vintage clothes, leave John Jessie with your mom, and head to California in June of 2018. He's filming the Singer Presents Elvis special, better known now as the '68 Comeback Special, so you know exactly where to find him. Furthermore, you know he's living at the studio, so you'll be able to get to him alone more easily than if he was at home.

You don't know how he might respond to finding out he has another child, especially one that he might never get to see and definitely won't get to raise. Still, you have to risk it. He deserves to know.

******

When you get to California, you check into your hotel and get dressed. You're going to have to find a way to sneak into the studio since it's been closed to the public for a while now. You pray that fate will be on your side again, as it always has been for the two of you.

You take a cab to the studio, but the driver won't let you off in front of it. Instead you have to get out at the corner and walk over to it. You walk all the way around the large building trying to find a way in and start to get nervous that it's not going to work. You're also dodging security the whole time and you're exhausted after trying for several hours. The sun is low in the sky when you lean your back against one of the doors and almost break down crying.

******

Elvis was unbelievably nervous to begin filming for the special. In fact, he tried to refuse at the last second, but the producer insisted. After several hours of filming, he demands a break.

"I need some air." He says, looking for a door to escape and try to relax. He had finally begun to feel comfortable on stage, but there is a different kind of nervous energy possessing him now. There's a feeling in his stomach like something is about to happen, but he has no idea what it could possibly be. He gets his answer when he finally gets outside to find the buzzing sound and wavy air hovering right in front of him.

He turns and looks back at the door to the studio and then back at the portal. His life is finally starting to be what he wants. He doesn't want to leave now. And he has his child to think of. Still, he's desperate to see you, to hold you, and feel you against him. He cares for Priscilla, that is true, but his heart still belongs to you.

******

You stand there in complete shock that you were able to find a portal here outside the building. You take a deep breath, grab your suitcase, and walk through. Thankfully, he's alone when you appear out of thin air.

"Hi." You say cautiously. He's an absolute vision standing there in his black leather outfit. Your heart is beating so hard and so loud that you wonder if he can hear it. He seems to be trying to decide how to respond. "I'm sorry to just-"

In one step, he's wrapped around you with his lips pressed to yours. He takes your face in his hands and kisses both of your cheeks and then your mouth again. The scent of cologne, sweat, and cigarillos envelops you and you could cry with the familiarity of it. Neither of you has to speak to know what's being communicated. He just holds you and strokes your hair and you rest your head against his chest. You're in this position when one of his guys pokes his head out of the door.

"Hey EP they're... oh shit, sorry." He averts his eyes like you're naked or something. "They need you to come film some more."

"Okay." Elvis speaks into your hair, his voice muffled. "Come watch. I'll find you somewhere to sit."

You pull back away from him and nod. He puts his hand on the small of your back and ushers you inside. He takes your suitcase and stashes it somewhere quickly. Then, he finds you a place to sit and heads back up to the stage.

He records the sit-down portion of the show with his old band and you melt a hundred times. You haven't seen him perform for a real audience before. Its electrifying. In varying waves, your heart is filled with love and affection and then you're so turned on you could crawl up on the stage and fuck him right there in front of all these people.

You fidget with your ring to distract yourself and realize that you wore it here. You really didn't intend to, but you've been wearing it since he gave it to you, so it was habit to put it on this morning. Somewhere inside you, he's still your husband. Priscilla might have his time, but you have his heart. When you have this thought you panic for a second that she's here. You swivel your head around frantically looking for her. From the stage, he notices your mood has changed. He catches your eye and gives you the slightest inquisitive look. You mouth Priscilla? and he shakes his head ever so slightly, so you relax back into your seat. The whole exchange is less than ten seconds long and thankfully, no one notices.

Finally, they finish the set and he's done filming for the night. You stay in your seat, not sure what to do. Should you go to him? Or will he find you? You see him standing in a group of guys laughing and talking. He doesn't seem to be coming for you, so you stand up and walk slowly towards him, without an inkling of what you'll do or say when you get to him. As you get closer, you hear him.

"Nah, guys, not tonight. I have other plans tonight."

"Other plans?" One of the guys looks at him curiously. Just then, you make it to the edge of the group and he notices you.

"Ah, speak of devil. Or angel, rather." He puts his arm around your shoulders in a casual and friendly gesture. "This is y/n. She's an old friend from Tupelo. I told her I'd show her around tonight."

One of the other guys raises his eyebrows and the others shuffle around nervously.

"Oh, calm down boys. She's married." He uses his other hand to hold up your hand and show them your ring.

"Not that that ever stopped you." One of the guys jokes. Elvis moves away from you and play punches the guy that said it.

"Okay, I'll see you guys later." With that, he puts his arm around your shoulders again and walks away. On the way out, he grabs your suitcase and then leads you to the room where he's living in the studio. Once you're inside, he shuts the door and locks it and then wraps himself around you again, kissing you deeply. When he finally pulls back, he looks into your face and laughs softly.

"Good thing you're still wearing your ring."

"Yeah that would've been hard to explain after you told them I was married."

"Yes. They don't need to know it's me you're married to." He leans in and kisses you passionately again. Then he pulls back suddenly. "It is still me, right? You're not here to tell me you married some other guy again, are ya?"

"No, it's still you I'm married to." You respond, laughing. "I am here to tell you something, though."

He looks at you curiously and tries to think of what you could possibly have to report.

"What, honey?" You pull away from him and walk to your suitcase.

"I think it's better if I just show you." You pull out the envelope of pictures and hold it in your hands, your heart pounding.

"Divorce papers?" He eyes the envelope and his eyebrows knit together in concern.

"No! No, not that at all. You should sit down, though." He walks to a chair and sits down carefully.

"You're scaring me, honey." You take a deep breath and look at the ceiling. Then, you extend your arm and hand him the envelope. He opens it cautiously and pulls out the stack of pictures. The first picture is one a nurse took in the hospital of you and John Jessie together right after he was born.

He looks up at you and his face is a mix of shock and confusion. He's not able to say anything, though, so he flips to the second picture. It's one of John Jessie that you took earlier this week.

"You... you had a baby?"

"I did."

"And the baby is this old... oh God." You watch him as he puts the pieces together. He looks at the date on the back of the first one and counts the months backwards. "This is my baby."

"Yes." You almost whisper it and he looks up at you, his eyes glistening with tears.

"I have a son." You're getting choked up now too, watching him.

"You do. His name is John Jessie." He stands up and wraps his arms around you, as the tears slide down his face.

"John Jessie Presley." He whispers into your hair. Then, he sniffs and stands up, looking down at the pictures. He flips through them and smiles, seeing his little boy grow from a newborn to the almost-toddler he is right now. When he gets to the end of the stack, he has a thought.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to distract you from Lisa Marie."

"Distract me?!"

"I wanted you to be focused on her." He shakes his head, but he can't argue with it. A different thought occurs.

"Why didn't you bring him with you? Where is he?"

"He's with my mom. I couldn't bring him here."

"Why not?"

"Do I need to spell out the headline for you? Elvis Presley's secret love child?"

"Oh, to hell with that. I want to see my boy."

"Did you forget that you have a wife here? Imagine how she would react."

"Again, I don't really care. He's my child."

"I just couldn't, Elvis. I can't mess with-"

"I swear to God, if you mention the damn timeline of history again, I'm gonna-"

"What? You're gonna what, Elvis?"

"I WANT TO SEE MY CHILD." He yells at you for the first time ever. He's yelled near you before, but never directly at you because he's angry with you. You stand there defiantly, both of you breathing heavily. "Take your clothes off. We're making a portal. You're gonna go get him and come back here."

"I'm not bringing him here."

"Goddamnit, y/n, then why did you tell me?!"

"I don't know. I guess I shouldn't have!" Your eyes begin to well up.

"You're damn right you shouldn't have. Now I get to live with the knowledge that I don't get to raise my own son." With that, the dam breaks and you begin to cry. He's right. You're ready to curl up and die when it hits you and you stop crying and look up at him.

"Come back with me."

"I can't leave Lisa."

"No, not like permanently. Just come with me and see him. The portals reopen right where you left from, right?"

"Yeah I'm always right back where I was when I walked through originally. Unfortunately, because it meant I had to finish filming Spinout-"

"So then I can open a portal for you any time I want and you can come through and see him. Just for a little while and then go back!" His eyes sparkle with excitement and he picks you up and spins you around.

"Haha! Yes! I can be a part of his life!" You nod and he kisses your cheek. "Oh, thank you, y/n. God, I love you. I missed you so much."

"I love you too." He smiles and kisses you tenderly.

Then, he sets you back down on the ground and kisses you again with a renewed hunger this time, his tongue parting your lips and dipping into your mouth. His desire is contagious and before you know it you're tearing at his leather jacket while he kisses your neck. You get it off of his shoulders and rip the shirt up and over his head. He literally tears your dress at the zipper and yanks it off of you. In your uninhibited passion, you sink your teeth into his shoulder and he yelps.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry."

"Do it again." He whispers in your ear. You bite into the skin on his chest and he growls deep in his throat. He removes your bra and panties with an animalistic fervor and throws them across the room. You peel his leather pants off of him as quickly as possible and he tosses you on the couch. In a second, he's pushed into you and is pounding you with a new kind of power and confidence.

"God, yes! Yes!" You yell as he fills you over and over. He holds your hip with one hand and slams into you rhythmically. He grunts and nips at your shoulder.

"You like it when I fuck you hard, baby?"

"Mmmmm harder." You moan.

"Yes ma'am." He listens to instructions and crashes into you even harder. There's a desperate kind of passion in the way he fucks you and it's everything you've needed for the last two years. He's needed it too; you can tell by the pace of his thrusts. He kisses your mouth, hard, and you bite his bottom lip. The way he drives into you is raw and dirty and makes you scream as you come as hard as you ever have while he pumps in and out of you.

"Fuck yes." He grunts through gritted teeth as he continues to pound against your hips while you pulse around him. Finally, he succumbs to the intensity of your sex and shoots you full of his warmth. As he comes, you bite him again on the chest and he lets out a guttural groan that makes you want to climb on top and fuck him again. He's dripping sweat and it mixes with your own as he collapses on top of you, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

The portal appears and he groans and rolls off of you. You scramble off the couch and try to get your clothes together. You cannot find your bra, though, and you have to dig through your suitcase for a new dress since he ruined the one you were wearing. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and gasp. You look like a wild animal with your fucked out eyes and hair everywhere. You're desperately trying to smooth your hair when you hear a small pop and the portal disappears.

"Oh shit." He looks at you and laughs. He stops trying to get dressed, settling for just pants, and drops back down on the couch. He produces a cigarillo from somewhere and pats the couch next to him. You pick up his black shirt and pull it on over your head and then sit next to him, lightly running your fingers over the bite marks on his chest and shoulder.

"I marked you."

"It's a good thing we're going to your time. I can't go home like this." He chuckles and lights the cigarillo, taking a long drag.

"We missed the portal." You say offhandedly.

"I guess we'll just have to have sex again."

"Oh, darn." You respond playfully, taking the cigarillo and putting it in your own mouth.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"I guess I can still surprise you."

"My wife, the mystery." He puts his arm around you and takes the cigarillo back.

You stay like that on the couch for most of the night, just talking and passing the cigarillo back and forth. You tell him all about John Jessie and he tells you about Lisa and how excited he is for the potential future of his career after the special. Eventually you fall asleep on his chest and wake up to a loud knocking on the door.

"Fuck." He sits up quickly.

"We're gonna start recording in an hour, EP. I know you like a warning..."

"Yeah, I'll be there." He hollers and then looks at you and puts his finger on his mouth to indicate that you should be quiet. You stand up and start to pack up your clothes from last night and lay out a dress to put on once the portal is there. He throws some clothes in a bag too and then comes up behind you and kisses your neck.

"I believe we have some work to do." You turn to face him and he kisses you deeply, walking you back to the couch again.

This time you have sex in the most married way possible and laugh at how tame it is compared to last night. But you're both satisfied and it works to make a portal, so neither of you complains. You get dressed and pick up your bags as he takes your hand. After a deep breath, you walk through the portal together and find yourselves outside the studio in 2018.

******

To be continued...

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

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Fortunato Durutti Marinetti

Beginning with 2020’s Desire, a self-released cassette, Toronto-based, Turin-born Daniel Colussi, has explored his “poetic jazz rock” (Colussi’s own apt coinage) across three releases under the moniker Fortunato Durutti Marinetti. The instrumentals flow and waver: now flashes of synthesizer keys or strings; now an inquisitive, lightly warped guitar line — the music floats then jumps but never rushes. His vocals — and lyrics — recall stated 1970s influences like Lou Reed or a spoken-word Robert Wyatt, but also Leonard Cohen or, more contemporarily, Destroyer’s Dan Bejar. Alex Johnson found Colussi’s latest release, Eight Waves In Search Of An Ocean, “engrossing — although not always comfortably…a record that rewards the delayering effect of multiple listens.”

Gary Zhexi Zhang — “The Tourist”

Zhang’s documentary ostensibly tells the story of Ali Sultan Issa, who led Zanzibar’s independence from Britain in 1963. Issa is a totally fascinating and complicated Zelig-like figure who seemed to be present for every revolutionary moment in the middle of the century. He hung out with Castro, Mao and also the CIA. I can’t believe how effectively and delicately Zhang is able to tell what a massive story about empire is — de-colonization, the optimism of mid-twentieth century socialist movements and the brutal 80s neoliberal response. This film also introduced me to the song “Super Snooper”by 1970s Italo disco crew La Bionda.

Annette Peacock — Unsung Heroine

A 12-minute doc on Annette Peacock circa 2000, as she recorded with a string quartet in Oslo for ECM. It’s not the most celebrated era of her career, but An Acrobat’s Heart is an interesting album of smoldering baroque torch songs. There’s great-to-see footage of her walking around Oslo in leather pants and also, it’s great to hear her speaking voice, which has that classic US drawl of an artist who’s lived through decades of chaos.

DJ Voices — Hemlock Nights @ Honcho Campout 2023

When NYC’s DJ Voices came to Toronto last summer my crew and I danced our asses off all night long. It was a good night and I’m glad it happened.

Lou Sheppard with Pamela Hart — Rights Of Passage

A beautiful, smart record that uses the metaphor of a river’s legal right to flow (riparian rights) to talk about property vs. public space, control of and access to resources and forms of enclosure. The record is also about queerness, and how queerness is or is not permitted to exist within particular defined spaces. This record is technically a sister artifact to Lou’s video/sound installation at the Art Gallery of York University, but it works totally well on its own as a gorgeous LP.

Ed Gray — Different Drummer : Elvin Jones

1979 documentary on Elvin Jones — a weird period for him. I think like most people, I know him primarily through his 1960s albums with John Coltrane. This doc has beautiful footage of Elvin hanging out with his family in the backyard as well as him in the studio describing his relationship to the cymbals in terms of different colors — chromesthesia. I also like his sleazy late 70s style — white leather loafers, a mesh shirt and a cigarette dangling as he absolutely shreds on his kit.

Elvis Presley — Unchained Melody (Rapid City June 21, 1977)

An insane document of Elvis in the very final throes of his imperial era. His banter is barely intelligible. Coca Cola cups scattered everywhere. Everyone in the band is sweaty and hairy. Wide bellbottoms all around. A middle-aged stagehand (who Elvis refers to as “son”) awkwardly holds the mic up to Elvis. Rising out of all this confusion, Elvis begins an extremely personal rendition of this Righteous Brothers song. There are pregnant pauses, as if he loses his place in the song, and there is no consistent tempo until the band kicks in, at which point all of Rapid City levitates into outer space. And two months later, Elvis was dead.

The Invisible Committee — The Coming Insurrection

In his Dusted review of my album, Alex Johnson singled out the words and language in my song “Smash Your Head Against The Wall.” When I think back to writing that song, I think of reading The Invisible Committee’s The Coming Insurrection. Their language is totally polemic and fiery and outrageous, but purposely and with intent. Oftentimes they’re playing with that caricatured idea of “the radical left.” Not everyone appreciates this approach: apparently it freaked out US neocon broadcaster Glenn Beck enough that he warned his followers about this book’s evil. My copy has many underlined passages that I return to again and again for guidance and inspiration.

Bruford — Back To The Beginning (Rock Goes To College, March 17th, 1979)

Annette Peacock’s second appearance on this list — too much? In this performance she casually strolls into the Bruford zone to provide some female levity to this otherwise brutally nervous and sweaty prog rock crew. There’s a strong argument that this song sucks because it suffers from that thing of prog/jazz virtuosos trying to play basic heavy rock and failing because they’re too good. But I think it’s awesome, especially when Annette lets her raincoat theatrically drop to the floor to indicate that she has officially assumed control of the proceedings.

Joni Mitchell — In France They Kiss On Main Street (Santa Barbara Bowl, 1979)

I like this era because it captures Joni just as she’s really alienating the majority of her audience by desecrating her folk-rock legacy via fully embracing smoothed out jazz fusion tones. She’s playing with a squad of absolute rippers: Metheny, Pastorius, Lyle Mays, Michael Brecker and Don Alias. Everyone is at the top of their game; everyone is in the zone. I like this ferocious live version of this song better than the studio version.

Tindersticks — The Ballad of Tindersticks (2 Meter Sessions, June 7, 1997)

For me Tindersticks are a deep well of inspiration, to which I can continually return for sustenance, guidance and nourishing refreshment. I love it all: the early baroque albums, the mid period soul albums, the soundtracks, the solo records. I think their last record was phenomenal. They are masters of subtly adjusting their songwriting as a way of unlocking vast new territories to explore. They make it all their own. I pick this particular clip because I like how the entire band is sweating profusely.

[infocultural]

Richard Nixon and Elvis Presley: A memorable meeting in American history

In December 1970, two of America’s most famous figures, President Richard Nixon and rock ’n’ roll legend Elvis Presley, met at the White House in what became one of the most unexpected episodes in the country’s cultural and political history. Concerned about the direction in which the younger generation was heading, Elvis Presley wrote a letter to Nixon offering his support in fighting the drug epidemic that was plaguing the time.

In his letter, Elvis expressed his desire to help the Nixon administration combat “the proliferation of drugs, the hippie movement, and other destabilizing trends.” Elvis believed that his popularity could be used to influence public opinion and shift the mindset of the youth who were increasingly rejecting traditional American values.

On December 21, 1970, the two met in the Oval Office. Their conversations touched on topics such as the influence of drugs on young people and the role of counterculture in changing social behavior. Elvis Presley suggested to Nixon that The Beatles were contributing to society's problems, as their lyrics allegedly encouraged rebellion among the youth. Elvis, who had once been criticized by Frank Sinatra early in his career, began to view The Beatles’ success as a similar threat to the one he had once posed to Sinatra in the 1950s. His animosity towards the British band, particularly John Lennon, was evident during the meeting.

During the encounter, Nixon presented Elvis with an honorary badge, symbolically designating him as a “special agent” responsible for protecting citizens against narcotics. In return, Elvis gave the president a Colt revolver and some family photographs.

For Nixon, who had been elected in 1968 and re-elected in 1972, the meeting was an opportunity to enhance his image among a generation that had grown increasingly skeptical of government authority. Although their relationship had no significant impact on drug policies, the meeting remains a symbol of the collaboration between rock culture and the political sphere.

Richard Nixon had a complex political career, marked by both achievements and controversies. Born in California in 1913, he became a senator in 1946 and ran multiple times for the presidency and the governorship of California. In 1968, he won the presidential election, and in 1972, he was re-elected. However, his presidency was cut short by the Watergate scandal, which forced him to resign in 1974. Nixon passed away in 1994 at the age of 81.

The meeting between Elvis Presley and Nixon is still remembered today not only for its unusual nature but for the way it illustrated how the worlds of politics and pop culture could intersect. Elvis, who was once seen as a rebellious figure in American culture during the 1950s, had evolved into a more conservative voice by the late 1960s. His desire to assist the government in addressing societal problems, especially drug use among young people, highlighted his changing perspective and the shifting image he wished to project.

On the other hand, Nixon, a man of sharp political instincts, saw this meeting as an opportunity to appeal to Elvis’s massive fan base, many of whom were part of the very youth demographic that was increasingly skeptical of government and authority figures. The fact that the two iconic figures found common ground, however briefly, speaks to the complex nature of American society at the time. The late 1960s and early 1970s were marked by widespread protests, countercultural movements, and a general sense of upheaval as the country navigated through the Vietnam War, the Civil Rights Movement, and changing social values.

Although the meeting did not lead to any concrete policy changes or ongoing collaboration, it remains one of the most photographed and talked-about events of its time. The image of Nixon and Elvis shaking hands in the Oval Office became an iconic symbol, encapsulating the moment when rock ’n’ roll collided with the political establishment. Despite their differences in background and ideology, both men understood the power of image and influence. Nixon hoped to gain a measure of cultural capital, while Elvis saw an opportunity to reshape his public persona as a patriot eager to contribute to solving the country’s problems.

Read Info Cultural article

[bcofl0ve]

if kaia posted in her stories a man movie or like thirsting over another actor she would be disrespectful now a movie (a very famous movie) about 2 women makes her doesn't like dick anymore, so she can't be to straight but she also can't post anything lgbt, what's next now? that she is austin's beard because he is actually dating presley?

lmfao they got mad once bc she (a while ago) liked a meme i think about paul mescal? so yeah she can never win short of caboshing the privacy her and austin clearly value and posting about how big his dick is on main. that's the crux of it really, how private they are and it's so goofy too. bc for all the harm they allege that she's doing to austin...you'd think it'd be a W in their books that she clearly values his desire to be private insofar as she doesn't post about him or talk about him publicly at all?

they've been together for 2 years and she's posted him *once*, a getty photo from the oscars vanity fair party on her story to tag her stylist in. she's given the public not even an inch of a look into austin the boyfriend from her perspective/austin the private figure etc. like- the way ppl accuse her of using him you'd think she's following him around with her phone all day long broadcasting his every breath to the world. if your only context for her was her social media pages you wouldn't even know she was dating him! even the little interview she did in her dressing room at cannes for celine pr gave not even a lick of a hint that she was there for her boyfriend. they asked who she was most looking forward to seeing and she was like well i've heard the movie is great! LOL.

[fashionthroughtimewithlucy]

The Rock 'n' Roll Movement.

The Rock 'n' Roll movement was well and truly alive in England which was mainly inspired by American films and film starts.Rock and roll sent shockwaves across America. A generation of young teenagers collectively rebelled against the music their parents loved. In general, the older generation loathed rock and roll. Appalled by the new styles of dance the movement evoked, churches proclaimed it Satan's music.

Elvis Presley started his career in the 50s. He is often referred to as the “King of Rock and Roll” was an American singer, musician, and actor. He crossed styles and audiences in a way that was never done before. Parents hated his new provocative style, and teenagers loved his fresh sound and appearance. This variety in opinion led to the generation gap.

Film stars of the 1950's became icons of the younger generation. Instead of playing the traditional romantic rolls, starts such as Marlon Brando and James Dean instead opted for rolls which conveyed a young man angry with society, fed up with conforming to their parents who were pre-war in their attitudes and as a result, the youth of the day identified with their characters whilst also following their post-war fashion.

Jayne Mansfield was an iconic bombshell of the 50s and 60s and was known as the ‘Working Man’s Monroe‘ or the 'original blonde bombshell'. She was a master of self-publicity and pioneered the use of the wardrobe malfunction to raise her profile.

The face of the decade, however, was Marilyn Monroe, working as an actress, model, and singer which brought a lot of sex appeal to this decade. The influence of Marilyn Monroe is still deeply felt today. Marilyn’s influence was primarily felt during the 1950s, a time when femininity and conservativity were united. She disrupted the traditional appearance of femininity and introduced a stronger element of sensuality into fashion. Marilyn’s style moments changed the course of fashion.

Marilyn Monroe, Lauren Bacall and Betty Grable were the three most famous screen starts of there time, staring in a the film 'How to marry a Millionaire'. Monroe wears a bathing costume decorated with rhinestone and plastic shoes. Betty Grable appears in matching shorts and top with a side tied neckerchief. Lauren Bacall has a typical young style dress with a full circular stiffened petticoat.

Women in the 1950s were the first to embrace pants built for a feminine figure.  While the women in the 1940s loved their man tailored slacks, they were gradually losing favour in the 1950s for a more ladylike style. The women of the 1950's often wore three quarter length trousers paired with blouses borrowed from men's shirts.

 Rockabilly dresses formed a popular talking point to this iconic style taking a much-loved look into the twenty-first century, the clothing is inspired by rock n’ roll icons of the 50s with a splash of modern country. Rockabilly clothing is a mix of 1950s fashion, music, and culture. For women, the Rockabilly dress style stems from 1940s and 1950s pin up girls with sexy pencil skirts and 1950s swing dresses. 

Teddy Boys.

Around about 1951, the  ‘Teddy Boy’ look began to emerge, it was the first time in year's men's clothing began some major changes. This coincided with young people generally having more disposable income and a desire to not look like cut-down versions of their fathers. The jackets were usually long lined creating a slim silhouette with trapped trousers and a crepe soled shoes. Young teddy boys paid particular attention to their hair, brylcreamed was used to create this DA (ducks arse) look.