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#elvis you're weird man
hooked-on-elvis · 2 months
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"No, I will never dance"
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Elvis was still dating Dixie at that time and they often "double dated" with Scotty and Bobbie. (…) one of the things Bobbie remembers the most about their outings with Elvis was his refusal to dance with her. She kidded him about it. The more she urged him to dance with her, the more adamant he became not to dance. Bobbie was mystified. "He dances on stage, but he never danced on the floor," she says. Once she asked him to autograph a photograph. On the back he wrote: "No, I will never dance." He signed it "Elvis Q-Ball Presley."
Excerpt: "That's Alright, Elvis: The Untold Story of Elvis' First Guitarist and Manager, Scotty Moore" by Scotty as told to James Dickerson (1997). Chapter 4 - July 1954: Three Days That Shook the World.
Note: Bobbie was Scotty Moore's second wife.
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sissylittlefeather · 29 days
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Double fic day...
It Feels So Right (how can it be wrong?): Part 2
A/N: This mini series is SO FUN. Just a reminder this is the one where ghost!Elvis possesses Austin during the filming of Elvis (2022). If you need to get caught up, read Part 1 here. Enjoy this second installment!
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex
Word count: ~2.5k
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Elvis is nervous about how Austin will react when he finds out he used his body to go out with you, but what's done is done. And he has every intention of begging to let it happen again.
******
The next day at work, you deliver your coffees like you always do.
Elvis hasn't found a way to tell Austin what happened. Austin can tell something is going on, but he assumes it's just some weird ghost business and doesn't pry into why Elvis is acting strange.
But when you walk up to Austin, Elvis tries to catch his attention.
"Austin. Man, I-"
"Hey!" He looks at you and then looks around to make sure you're talking to him.
"Hi..."
"I brought you a coffee. You said you like two creams and two sugars, right?" Elvis puts his face in his hand. That's his coffee order. He's not even sure what Austin would want.
"Oh... umm..." You look at him and your smile falls. You thought something special happened last night, but maybe it was just another in a long line of one night stands for him.
"Anyway. Here." You hand him the coffee and then walk back to where you normally stand, waiting for someone else to tell you what to do. You take a deep breath and try to make sure you don't let the tears that are trying to gather fall down your face.
"Goddamnit." Elvis whispers under his breath. Austin turns to him.
"What the hell was that?"
"You really don't remember anything when I'm... in you... do you?"
"No. What did you do?!" Elvis sighs and tries to think of how he can explain what happened between you last night.
"Well..."
"Elvis. They're going to call for me on set soon. Start talking."
"We went out last night."
"We?!"
"Me and her. But she thinks it was you..."
"You just thought you'd borrow me for the evening?"
"Look, I'm sorry, but I really like her and it was... it was really great."
"Elvis, did you have sex with her in my body?" Elvis cringes and looks down at the floor.
"Mayyybeee..."
"Elvis! What the hell?!"
"I'm sorry! You said no and I just really like her..."
"If you'd asked again, I probably would've said yes."
"Wait? Really?"
"Yes. But you didn't ask-"
"I know. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise."
"We had sex?"
"... yes..."
"It was good?"
"Austin, it was incredible. She's amazing-"
"It's my turn."
"What?"
"I'm taking her out tonight. And you stay out. I wanted to ask her out, so I'm going to." Elvis stands there speechless. This is not what he expected. He expected anger or permission to continue. But this is something totally different. He did not expect competition. Austin takes a sip of the coffee you brought him and winces.
"Two creams and two sugars, dude? Have you never heard of a latte?"
Elvis rolls his eyes and Austin turns and walks towards you.
"Hey! I'm sorry I was awkward. Thank you for the coffee. What are you doing tonight?" You look up suddenly, a bright smile on your face.
"Oh, nothing! You wanna hang out?"
"Yeah, that'd be awesome. Can I pick you up around 7?"
"Yes!" He leans forward and kisses your cheek and whispers in your ear.
"I'll see you then." He walks out to the set and you blush. You try to focus on what you're supposed to be doing but the only thing in your head is the fact that you might actually be dating Austin Butler.
What you don't see is the smirk Austin shoots to Elvis. As he passes him to get to where he's going, he whispers.
"Game on, man."
******
That night, Austin shows up at your door dressed far more casually than the night before. Also, his hair is messier and he seems more confident.
"Hey, baby. You ready?" You nod. Apparently sleeping with you was an ego boost of some kind, but you're not exactly complaining. He seems to be more at home in himself and the confidence is hot.
For your date, he first takes you to a small restaurant he's found while he's been in town. It's a hole-in-the-wall type of place, but the food is amazing. Next, he takes you for cocktails at a local bar. It's small and intimate, but upscale nonetheless. After that, you find yourself back at his place on his couch.
This date somehow feels completely opposite of the one last night, but it's not bad, it's just different. He's just as sweet and thoughtful as he was the night before. He settles onto the couch next to you and throws his arm around you.
"You wanna watch something?"
"Sure. What did you have in mind?"
"Anything you want, baby."
What you don't know about this date is that Elvis is there the whole time. He tries to stay quiet, but throughout the evening he finds himself giving tips to Austin about what you like and don't like. The competitive side of him is begging him to shut up, but he also wants to see you taken care of. Austin is doing his best to ignore him, though. He wants to earn your affection in his own right.
"Well. What's your favorite Elvis media?" You ask. Elvis laughs.
"Ha! She's still thinking about me." Austin looks at him and rolls his eyes. He wants to yell at him that she didn't know it was him, but he also doesn't want to appear crazy.
"That feels like work for me, baby. We can watch something if you want, though..."
"Oh, no! I'm sorry. I didn't even think of it that way. We can watch whatever you want."
"How about some music?"
"Yes! Even better." He stands up and walks over to a record player and starts flipping through albums.
"Most everything I have is oldies. Is that okay?" You smile. Elvis scoffs. Oldies.
"That's the music I grew up with."
"Alright then. Fleetwood Mac, Three Dog Night, America, or Elton John?"
"Oh, man. That might be the hardest question anyone's ever asked me." Austin looks at you softly. You really are something else. "America. I'm in a mood tonight."
"I love it." Austin smiles. Elvis wishes you'd asked for something a little more his style, but he respects that you like what you like. The greatest hits album plays and Austin sits down next to you on the couch again. He fidgets with your hair on your shoulder absentmindedly. You turn to face him and you feel the energy between you become charged with something. He leans in slowly and presses his lips to yours. His hand cups your cheek and he kisses you again softly. The next time he leans in, it's an open-mouth kiss and his tongue slides into your mouth passionately.
But something is different. You can't quite put your finger on what it is, but the way he's kissing you is slightly different from last night. As he kisses down your neck, you decide that maybe you're just remembering wrong. Besides, this is excellent. Why would you complain? He sucks lightly on a spot near your collarbone.
"I don't think she'll like that." Elvis is still standing next to the couch. He's trying not to watch but his curiosity gets the best of him. Austin wants to ask if he plans to stay the whole time, but he can't really do that without freaking you out.
You moan softly as Austin's hands go to your breasts and he lays you down on the couch, situating himself on top of you. He pulls your shirt off quickly and then takes his off and you're shocked that he's moving this quickly. Last night you had to practically force him to touch you and tonight he's already got you half naked. Maybe it's just because this isn't the first time you've been together. His lips are all over your body as he kisses and licks your chest.
Elvis scoffs.
"You're paying too much attention to her top. Move down." Austin is trying so hard not to hear what Elvis is saying, but it's really starting to drive him crazy.
"Give me just a second, baby." Austin stands up and walks over to the record player. As he does, he mouths to Elvis. "GO. AWAY."
"What? It's not like she can see me. Besides, it looks like you need the help." He turns the music up really loud and walks back over to the couch. You look at him a little strangely and he smiles.
"Sorry, I just... wanted it... loud..." Elvis cracks up laughing at Austin trying to cover for his weird behavior. Austin goes back to kissing you and slides your pants down and off. Elvis rolls his eyes and turns his back. He doesn't really want to watch you with another man. Austin looks at you naked on the couch and shakes his head.
"Goddamn, baby, you're gorgeous." You smile. That sounds like him. He settles between your thighs on the couch and lowers his mouth to your clit. Your back arches as he moves his tongue over and around your sensitive bud. He pushes two fingers into you and spreads them, stretching you out as he licks you. That's new, but it feels good, so you don't protest. You feel your orgasm building as he keeps working his mouth on you.
"Oh, God, Austin." You moan.
"She's about to cum. Don't stop." Elvis hollers over the music. He can tell even without looking. Austin has to use every ounce of his acting skills to keep it together and stay focused on you. But Elvis is right. Your hand goes to his hair as you shudder and pulse around his fingers, your orgasm washing over you like a curtain of intense pleasure. He pulls back and wipes his mouth with his hand.
"You want me to fuck you, baby?" That's a slightly shocking difference from last night, but it's still hot, so you nod as he drops his pants and crawls on top of you. Elvis puts his face in his palm. He's wracking his brain for a way to get Austin to stop, but he can't think of anything. Instead, he stands faced away looking up at the ceiling while Austin pushes into you and begins to fuck you steadily.
"Yes! Yes!" You cry out breathlessly and Elvis hollers again.
"She's gonna cum again." Austin is so close to his own orgasm that he finally loses control.
"GODDAMNIT ELVIS DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS?!" He pulls out and sits up, looking at Elvis, who turns around slowly.
"You were doing just fine-"
"And yet you couldn't keep your mouth shut!" You look at Austin and over in the corner where he's looking. There's nothing there.
"Austin, what the hell-"
"I can see Elvis! Okay? I see him. He's here."
"You..."
"And sometimes he possesses me and does some of the movie. Last night, he thought he would take me for a joy ride and go out with you. That was him last night. Not me." Elvis looks between you to see how you'll respond to this information.
"Austin, I know you've worked really hard to get into this role..."
"No- I mean I have- but this is not that. I swear he's right over there." He gestures to Elvis in the corner who waves awkwardly, but you can't see him. That's when you realize that you're naked and grab your shirt to cover yourself.
"Tell her I've already seen her naked. She doesn't have to cover up for me." Austin rolls his eyes.
"Elvis says he's already seen you naked."
"Oh. Wait. He's really actually here?"
"Yep."
"And he takes over your body sometimes?"
"He does."
"And that was him last night and not you?!"
"Yes."
"Prove it." Elvis and Austin answer at the same time.
"What?"
"Prove it. What did you call me last night?"
"What do you mean?"
"You called me a specific pet name all night. What was it?"
"I don't know. Honey? I know he says honey a lot."
"Nope. Wrong. Let me talk to him." Austin stands up and pulls his pants back on. Then he looks over at Elvis.
"You heard the lady. Come on." Elvis nods slowly and then jumps. He opens his eyes in Austin's body. He sits down next to you on the couch and reaches his hand out to touch your cheek. He'll never get enough of the way your skin feels.
"Hey, doll." You close your eyes and lean into his touch.
"It really is you."
"It's me. And I called you doll."
"That's why everything has been so different tonight."
"Yes, I've been trying to tell him-"
"Wait. You've been here the whole time. Were you watching us-"
"No! I swear I turned my back. You can ask Austin." You look at him suspiciously.
"Can I talk to Austin?"
"I'll have to jump out and then you won't be able to see or hear me."
"But he will. So he can tell me what you say. If he lies, just come back."
"Alright then. Can I kiss you first?" You nod and he leans in and presses his lips to yours. He kisses you softly a few times and then pulls back. Elvis pulls himself out of Austin and sits on the other side of you on the couch. Austin shakes his head and blinks.
"Do you remember what happens when he's possessing you?"
"I don't."
"That's why you were so weird about the coffee this morning."
"Yes! Also I drink a vanilla latte. Elvis drinks coffee."
"Wow." You sit for a second trying to absorb what just happened.
"So which one does she pick?" Elvis asks Austin tentatively.
"I don't know, man." He turns to you. "He wants to know which one of us you pick."
"Pick?"
"To date." Elvis nods to Austin, who nods back. "We both want to know."
"Why do I have to pick? What if I want you both?"
"You can't even see Elvis!"
"No, but I can when he possesses you. I want you both." You stand up and put your clothes on while the two men sit dumbfounded on the couch. Once you're dressed, you turn and face Austin on the couch. "Where is he?"
"He's here next to me on the couch."
"Alright then." You look where you think he is and then back at Austin. "Figure it out, boys. Make a schedule or something. But I want you both."
You lean down and kiss Austin on the cheek. Then you turn to the other side of the couch and blow a kiss to Elvis.
"I'll see you in the morning. Y'all have fun coming up with a plan for how this will work." You walk to the front door and slip out, closing it behind you.
Elvis and Austin look at each other and bust out laughing. When they stop, Austin sighs and Elvis clicks his tongue. Elvis speaks first.
"Man, she's somethin' else."
"You got that right."
"I guess we better figure it out."
"I guess so..."
******
Until Part 3
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Taglist:
@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @returntopresley
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m1ssunderstanding · 4 months
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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 17
George is so sweet to put so much effort into helping Ringo write his song and to not ask for any kind of writing credit. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, right? But also, I’d do that for Ringo too if I were him. Ringo deserves it for everything he’s given to that band and the little credit he’s received. 
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“What am I playing, Richie?” “You’ll be on drooms.” If the Beatles know how to do one thing, it’s be cute. 
John, stop talking about Paul’s strong arms, you're embarrassing yourself. 
I do have to just include this here. From my Get Back book. I never heard, “was it sexually oriented?” on the nagra reels, but apparently that’s what Peter Jackson’s cleaned-up version gave him, and again, he was like, “hmm. Too gay.” 
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He’s known Heather for how long? Less than a year, right? But if somebody had showed me just this footage and told me he’d raised her from a newborn, I would not blink an eye. That kind of tired but fond interaction is exactly how a dad plays with his kid. And she’s climbing all over him and bossing him around like he’s never not been in her life. It’s beautiful. 
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And John, with his “are you going to eat them?” is the perfect sort of bad-example favorite uncle. The kind that would check her out of school when she’s older and go get her ears pierced when her dad had said she was too young. 
Sorry, I promise I’m not just going to be thirsting over dad Paul this whole time. I have to just make one thing clear, and this is the only thing I’ll say on the subject and then I’m done. If a man is a 3 and a good dad, he’s a 10. Paul was already an 11, so I’m literally just done-for. Okay, I’ll shut up. 
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John and Paul doing their usual thing, only paying attention to each other. Talking about an Elvis gospel ending for Let it Be. George, smirking, stands up: and we’ll all kneel as you do it. If John had said it, Paul would be in stitches. But George said it, and he might as well have never opened his mouth for all the notice he gets. And it’s honestly heartbreaking, if you can take your eyes off of the insanity of John and Paul’s weird eye-contact, to watch George’s face go from excited at his own wit and hopeful for a laugh to just completely downcast. Twelve years of that. Twelve years. 
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Ringo, you’re an absolute saint. He’s being so sweet to Heather, even letting her mess with his symbols, and then Paul has the audacity to tell him to “keep it lighter.” Like. Paul. Do you think that maybe the fact that he’s got a five-year-old over there “helping” him might have anything to do with how the drums are coming out? Just a thought. Anyone else would at least have something to say about it. Ringo just sort of nods along but he looks SO tired.
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TFW you’re inspiring the next generation of women to be loud and free and take up space.
“Dig it” is actually insane to me. I know I’m crazy, but remember those twin dreams they had about buried treasure when they first met? “If you want it, you can dig it up.” ???
When George and Paul just jump into harmonizing together when they’re talking about The Long and Winding Road arrangement? Their voices are like magic together. I wish they would’ve had George sing that part in the final thing, actually.  
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dayumbxxch · 2 months
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Spoiled Memories
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Chapter two
The clicking of shoes on tile fills the halls of Smith's Grove. A young 22 year old with dull eyes follows behind Delores, learning what to do at her new job.
The hushed lunchroom made Y/N heart race; even though she knew none of the patients were paying her any attention she couldn't help but feel self conscious. 
Y/N's eyes glaze over as she mindlessly follows the older woman. Life had become dull and meaningless ever since she'd lost her brother. So she began to let her mind drift throughout the day to happier times. It had cost her a few jobs and almost a car crash once but she left more alive in her mind. 
"-ey!" 
"What were you saying?" 
"We have to go down the hall to deliver the food to the ones that have to stay in their rooms."
Nodding the girl follows behind her mentor, the hallway was pin-drop silent. "These patients are deemed as hazards or themselves..or to others." Delores's voice dropped near the end while glancing towards a door they had passed. 
Her lunch break approached rather quickly, leaving the break room Y/N began ease dropping on a conversation while grabbing a soda. 
"So how's the new girl?"      "Weird she doesn't really say anything. She just stands there silent and shit." 
Hearing enough Y/N turned on her heel and walked back into the break room. Throughout her years of being a recluse she learned not to care about anything really. 
She was here for money to find her brother. That was all she wanted ever since he went to jail and she was moved to a different foster home. 
"So have you met the boogeyman yet?" 
"Um..no I don't think I have"
Y/N's new coworker began a strange story. 
"So there was this boy in a town near here in haddonfield. And one day after the years of bullying and torment he snapped and killed his sister, a kid from his school, and his step dad. So he was brought here when he was just ten years old. His mom came to see him every week. Then he snapped again killing a nurse right after the doctor stepped out of the room. His mom tired of it all shot herself dead. And in the next room was her daughter the boogeyman's little sister Laurie. Now he rots away in his room and he smells terrible. He looks homeless and has really greasy hair."
The boy described rang an unforgotten bell in Y/N head. "What was his name?" The woman spun around a clipboard from beside her. 
Michael Myers
Y/N's heart skipped a little her golden childhood friend had murdered a bunch of people; he's now in the Sanitarium she just started working at. "I'm Isabella by the way!" "Y/N." 
"Elvis I'm home!" A beaten up looking Russian Blue cat jumped at the sound of the front door opening. "Hey honey are you hungry~" Sitting her keys down Y/N picks up her beloved pet and walks him over to the kitchen. 
The move wasn't awful since she didn't have much to unpack it only took a couple of hours. Elvis had gotten used to the new house already and even started exploring outside.
Y/N's life continues as dull as normal even with her late night runs to calm her mind before bed. Everyday seemed to be a repeat of the last. It had only been a week but it felt like a month. The shifts went by slow and her home time with Elvis went by fast.
As usual Y/N begins her day staring off into nothing while sitting in bed. A loud alarm jolts her out of her dazed state, she makes her way to the bathroom.
After doing her usual eyeliner to bring some attention to her e/c eyes instead of the ever darkening circles around her eyes.
The drive to work was the usual forty-five minutes filled with hard rock playing to keep her awake.
"Hey Isabella." Her voice was barely audible but her newly found friend understood her perfectly. "Hey hon how's it going?" The blonde sets an energy drink in front of Y/N as she drinks her own. "Since you're now working the early shift you get to meet the man, the myth, and the legend, Michael Myers and his little pal Dr. Loomis." 
Y/N rolls her eyes while chugging her drink quickly. Tears prick her eyes from the carbonation, blinking them away she stands up and follows her friend. 
"So he's the usual creep. He stares and stands there until you leave. He likes OJ and that's about all we know about him. Don't give him anything remotely sharp he has special silverware that will bend if he tries to stab anyone with it." 
Y/N bites the inner part of her lip and Isabelle picks up on her silence. "You'll be fine. The man has got to eat." She says while handing her a tray. "Him and Dr. Loomis are in there." She uses her head to motion towards two doors. 
"Go" Y/N gets pushed towards the double doors and gulps while  the guards let her inside. Not saying a word she sets Michael's tray on the table. Y/N's eyes flicker towards the huge man and her breath escapes her. She'd briefly met eyes with the man in the mask. 
"Thank you ma'am you may go. Now Michael can you look back at the picture please?" 
A heavy feeling settled in Y/N's stomach, she'd always had a knack for feeling people's stares. 
"Michael?... Michael!"
"Ma'am could you please come back here for a moment?" 
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flwersgarden · 2 years
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♡ lovestruck. °₊
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pairings : elvis presley x female reader.
summary : elvis turns into a brat whenever you're not with him.
includes : fluff, (mainly) elvis being clingy (and childish), some swearing words.
author's note : this is a little present for my 170 followers! i still can't believe i have that many people who enjoy what i write and it just makes me so happy!!! i had a bunch of requests for something with the real elvis so this is for all of those lovely anons<3
buy me a kofi!
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if someone would've told you that the moment elvis presley and you started dating he would make tantrums whenever you leave his side and deny anyone else's help but yours; you would've punched them in the face for playing with your feelings.
but now you would just hug them and nod while sighing. because that's exactly what he does.
elvis considers himself as a hopeless romantic, he believes in love at first sight and in the fairytale kind of love story. it didn't help that you were almost the same.
you and elvis met when he delivered some packages to your family business, he invited you a cold coke in your lunch break and the both of you just felt a spark. the rest is history (literally).
elvis got famous and you married him a few months later, just after he arrived to germany, now being at his side whenever he needed or wanted.
and you love him with all the love you could possibly have for someone as special as he is for you — you felt like you were going to burst out crying everytime you see his beautiful face.
you thought for a long time that you were the sensible and clingy one in the relationship as you always grabbed his hand in press conferences that you were invited to, gave him a kiss before every show to keep his stage fright at bay, pampering him after every show and telling him he deserves to be taken care of at least once, caressing his hair whenever he fell asleep on your lap, cuddling him while sleeping together at hotels or in your room at Graceland, tying his tie in those rare occasions he wore suits, kissing him on the cheek before he goes to meet some fans outside your home, etcetera.
it was just your routine.
you remember telling elvis about psychical touch being your love language at the first stages of the relationship.
“ but, and i mean this, if you ever feel overwhelmed for everything, just tell me and i'll stop. ”
“ i will, mama. ”
but he never told you anything. because he loved it. even more than he liked to admit. and he confirmed it the week you went away for a family trip.
you told elvis you were going to visit your sibling as they just had a baby a few days before you had to go and he took it very well, just nodding and smiling while you told him, feeling very calm.
he was also calm when you were packing your stuff while listening to him complaining about some childish fight he and some member of the memphis mafia got in, just to fill the silence.
he was also calm while kissing you goodbye, wishing you the best, telling you to be careful and ordering you to call him at least every two days to know you were good. after agreeing at everything you kissed him again, fixing his hair before driving away. he just waved you goodbye while ignoring that weird feeling he felt.
and he was also calm the next day, eating breakfast and dinner with his dad before practicing some songs in his piano and even calling some friends of his to hang out with.
but he stopped being calm the day after that.
he woke up with the sun hitting his eyes making him gruff and turn around, watching the clock in the nightstand, widening his eyes at the hour.
“ god-dammit! ” he said with his deep morning voice, almost tripping while getting out of bed, running to the phone and immediately calling jerry, who usually told him almost everything.
“ jerry here. ” his friend's typically calm voice answered.
“ jerry, man! ”
“ ep, what the fuck, where are you? ” it sounded like jerry was walking out of a room, 'whispering' to the phone, now his voice sounded concerned.
“ i fell asleep, damn it. ” elvis just ran his hand by his hair, the way you use to do when he felt stressed. “ what are y'all doing? ”
“ well, all the musicians are waiting for you while practicing and everyone else are just cracking jokes, the colonel almost sent the whole police force there to see what made you so late. ”
elvis just sighed.
“ okay, tell 'em i'm really sorry and that i'll be there in ten. ”
“ you good? something happened? are you sick? ”
“ nah, nah, i just... i'll tell ya later. ”
“ sure. see you then. ”
“ see ya. ”
elvis hung up, hitting his forehead in the wall next to him before walking to the bathroom to get ready.
you were the one to usually wake him as you woke up earlier because of all the household duties you love to do. it was after you told him after he insisted on hiring someone for it:
“ i love taking care of you, don't be stubborn. ”
that he stopper insisting.
now he regrets letting you win because he got so used to your cute voice waking him up with little kisses in his face.
damn, he felt like he was going to cry.
️️ ️️️️️️️️️
after he arrived, everyone was around him, asking him if he was okay, if something happened, it made him want to hold his head to block out the noise.
“ nah, 'm good, don' worry, 'kay? ” he said with a tired tone in his voice.
you usually walked hand in hand with him, answering all questions for him as you knew how overwhelmed he could get at this hour and even more when he had to practice for some show.
elvis then sat in the chair inside the booth, clearing his throat. feeling a bit weird as you weren't there to give him his good luck kiss.
“ ep, you good? ”
he turned to see the pianist looking at him.
“ yeah, yeah, just a bit, uh... don't worry. ” he just shook his head, giving a thumbs up for the music to start.
he spent the whole session spacing out after ending a song, laughing quietly at some jokes and just drinking water.
he felt so weird. he didn't knew in what moment did your touch became so comforting to him at the point where he felt he was going insane without it.
when steve gave everyone a five minute break elvis just shoot himself out his seat, almost running to the phone out of the booth.
dialing your number he waited, not patiently, for you to pick up.
“ hello? ” elvis thought he was going to pass out at the sound of your voice, he really missed you.
“ baby! god, it's so good to hear your voice. but hey, i think you cursed me or something 'cause y'know i got late today because i couldn't wake up without your 'good morning', ” he even made a girly voice in an attempt to copy yours. “ then i didn't had breakfast because i tried to do that sandwich you make for me and it just. didn't. hit. the. same. ” he stomped his feet at every pause, like a toddler. “ and i almost break down crying because i didn't get your good morning kiss either, can you come home? ”
he waited for an answer, probably a 'okay, i'm actually taking a plane back home as we speak' type of answer but what he got was laughter.
laughter.
“ wha-. is my suffering funny to ya'? ” he asked with his hand in his waist; doing his dad stance.
“ oh my god! elvis aaron presley, are you telling me to go back home because you couldn't get your good morning kissie? ” you said between laughs, probably tears running down your face.
“ no! ” he defensively said, looking around before saying. “ not just that, it's the sandwich too. ”
you laughed harder.
“ stop laughing, it's not funny! at all! if you told me 'elvis, i love you and i need you to leave right now to be at my side', i'll do it! i'll take the first plane back home and- ”
his rant was cut off as steve screamed at him.
“ elvis, come on! ”
elvis sighed.
“ you have to go back? ”
“ yeah... ”
“ okay, look, call me when the session ends and we'll talk about whatever you need, okay? ”
“ okay... ” he pouted like a child.
“ okay. i love you, you baby. ”
“ 'm not a baby. ”
“ sure. ”
you hung up, making elvis sigh again.
“ elvis-! ”
“ yeah, i hear you, goddammit! ”
️️ ️️️️️️️️️
he was now in his dressing room, sitting in the chair as his makeup artist worked while listening to the colonel explaining the whole agenda to steve.
elvis was playing with his straw, occasionally smiling to his makeup artist in a way to say that it was going good.
“ colonel, with all due respect, i feel like 'suspicious minds' should be the open scene, it's just a small show, not a big event. ”
“ no, no, no! it should be polk salad annie, it's fun, it's upbeat! ” the colonel turned to elvis, pointing at his figure with his clown custom cane making elvis snicker as he remembered that time you joked about the colonel showing a picture of him to the shop worker about the type of cane he wanted and them just giving him a clown cane. “ my boy would agree with me! ”
steve just sighed. “ elvis, what do you think? ”
“ uh... ” the makeup artist took a step back, elvis standing up; putting his hands in his waist, looking at the ground. “ excuse me. ” he walked to the white phone that was on the table.
“ what are you doin- ” elvis held a finger to the colonel.
“ hiya, baby! ” elvis greeted you, showing his back to the colonel and his profile to steve. “ wanna ask you something really quick, uh, what song do you like more as an opening song: 'suspicious minds' or 'polk salad annie'? ”
steve had to turn his head to the side to hide his laughter at the sight of the colonel's shocked face.
“ suspicious minds? great! thank you and enjoy your day, doll, i love ya'. ” he kissed the phone before hanging up, looking at the colonel with a confident smile.
“ suspicious minds will be the opening song. ” he sat in the chair again, grabbing his coke and sipping it while looking at the song lyrics clearly unaware of the situation before hearing steve's loud laughter.
“ what in the damn hell just happened? ” the colonel asked while steve kept laughing.
️️ ️️️️️️️️️
he was getting ready for a press conference, fixing his hair for the millionth time.
the colonel was giving orders to the press, telling them what was appropriate to ask and what not while elvis stood behind him, next to jerry and another memphis mafia member.
“ shit. ” he muttered under his breath, trying to make his hair look good.
“ what's going on? ” jerry asked, sparing a glance to elvis.
“ my hair is looking like a damn mess. ” he complained, his hands still touching the ends of his hair.
“ lemme call the styl-. ”
“ no, he doesn't know how to do this. ” elvis quickly turned the offer down, getting more nervous as he saw how his hair continued to look like he just woke up or something.
“okay! boy, we' goin' out right now-. ”
“ no, just let me fix this. ”
come on, you dumb hair, work!
“ elvis, we don't have ti-. ”
“ wait! ” he quickly remembered what you used to do, he grabbed steve's water bottle wetting a part of his scarf in it now using that piece of cloth to tame his hair down, making it work. not as perfectly as it did when you did it but it worked.
“ 'kay, let's go. ” he shrugged his shoulders, walking to the press conference with five shocked and confused faces behind him.
️️ ️️️️️️️️️
after the show, elvis just dried his sweat with the white towel he was given by some staff giving them a quick 'thank you' as he walked to his dressing room.
in a moment of obliviousness he stopped in his tracks, leaning his cheek to the side while drying his wet hair.
everyone just stood quiet.
“ uh... elvis? ” steve asked, looking at elvis as if he was insane. “ you good? ”
he just looked at steve like he was bothering him before realizing what the fuck he was doing.
snapping out of the state of mind he was in, he stood straight, clearing his throat.
“ sorry, thought the suit was... tighter. ” he whispered the last part, walking quickly to his dressing room while everyone looked confused.
he dialed you again, now in his expensive robe, sitting in the small couch his dressing room had.
“ hi! ” your voice welcomed him again.
“ i'm going insane. ”
a few seconds of silence passed.
“ okay, what happened? ” you asked as if this was normal to you, it sounded like you were in some kind of outdoor area as the wind could be heard.
“ i just- you're going to laugh again. ”
“ i won't! ”
elvis reluctantly shook his head.
“ i don't believe you. listen, just... can you come home? i really, really miss you. baby, i'll send the private jet, hell, i'll fly it myself! ” he threw a hand to the air, hitting his elbow with something making him pout.
you softly chuckled. “ elvis, just for two days mor-. ”
he groaned.
“ no! i want you here right now! you don't get it, i have to take this suffering alone. ”
you held your laughter back, shaking your head.
“ elvis, it's just for two days, they're going to pass quick! i'll be there in a blink, you'll see. ”
he blinked.
“ liar. ”
“ elvis! ” you laughed. “ you're being a brat. ”
“ hey! 'm not. ” he sighed again, falling in the couch as if it was some kind of support. “ fine. two more days and you take your cute ass home, got it? ”
“ yes. ” you chuckled. “ i love you, sleep well. ” you sent him a kiss, making him smile.
“ i love you too, g'bye. ”
“ bye. ”
the call ended. making elvis feel lonely again.
️️ ️️️️️️️️
it was now the day you were going to come back home, elvis dressed the best he could, driving himself to the airport as he insisted in you traveling back home with his plane so he could welcome you without anyone bothering you.
he was checking himself out after arriving, fixing his hair the best he could, cleaning his glasses and trying to make his outfit look better. feeling the excitement feel his body at the realization that he was going to go back to normal, his morning kisses will be there, the pampering will be there after every show... and those delicious pj's sandwiches you do.
thank god you're already his wife because he could propose you again.
... why not propose to you again?
before he could think even further he listened to the plane landing, bouncing in his feet like an excited kid. and after some minutes, he saw your figure go down the stairs, now in the same place as he was.
he ran to you, giggling like a love-sick high schooler, his arms holding you when you were close enough.
“ elvis! ”
“ doll! ”
you both said hugging each other with all the strength you could muster.
“ i missed you. ”
“ i missed you even more, sweetheart. ”
you both didn't notice the relieved sighs of jerry behind the both of you.
breaking up the hug, you both walked to the car. hand in hand.
“ so, how was it? did you get some free time without me? ”
elvis immediately shook his head, holding your hand tighter.
“ no doll, i beg of you to not leave me alone ever again. next family reunion i'm going with you, i don' give a damn if i have something important that day. ”
you laughed, caressing his arm with your other hand as you arrived closer to the car, jerry and steve beside the both of you.
“ that's too bad cause i thought of going to my cousin's wedding next wee-. ”
“ NO! ” three male voices shut you down, jerry pleading with his hands as if he was praying, steve with his hands in his head as if you just told him the world was ending and elvis hugging your waist as if you were going to dissappear in any second.
looks like the one that'll be needing free time is going to be you.
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mooodyblue · 8 months
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do y'all ever have these weird moments where you're just.....Living and you think about elvis and it's like WOW i really love this man who was literally born in the 30s when did i get to this point in my life what HAPPENED
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floralcyanide · 2 years
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I Will Always Love You
Austin!Elvis x Reader Angst Fix-It Fic
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request: the airport scene from the movie. the reader is in priscilla’s position, they beg elvis to go to rehab after his concert, telling him to do it for them, do it for their daughter. however, he refuses and they say their goodbyes. the reader is convinced that this is it; they’ve lost him fully because they know he isn’t gonna get help. however, a few days later they get a call that elvis did go to rehab after the concert and they’re so relieved. you can take it from there (and add anything you’d like!)
>> helloo everyone (: here's some angst except there's a happy ending. weird coming from me, I know. but I hope everyone enjoys this!
pairing: Austin!Elvis x reader
warnings: angst, mentions of drug abuse, Y/D/N means "your daughter's name"
word count: 1347
masterlist || add yourself to the taglist HERE! || send requests HERE! || guidelines for requests HERE!
You and Elvis had split about a year ago now, and ever since, you've been arguing and fighting with him to get help for his drug addiction. It was one major factor in why the two of you split in the first place. You didn't care about the women he'd bring home or sneak around with. You cared about him. And he was beginning to drown in his drug abuse as every day passed. Elvis is a stubborn man who won't budge unless he sees a valid reason. And you have thrown every reason for him to get help at him, and he still refuses. You still let Elvis see your daughter for now, but soon you're gonna give him an ultimatum as much as you hate to. You don't want your daughter to grow up without a father, whether he's alive or dead, but soon it's going to be the latter if Elvis doesn't get help. And you're going to let him know this.
Today you're picking Y/D/N up from Elvis and Vernon, and you're going to make Elvis choose between a rock and a hard place. You understand why he does the drugs entirely, and you know that it's difficult for him to come out of the depression he's in. So, you're going to make sure you show him you understand but that he needs to do this for the sake of your child. Your car pulls up next to Elvis' car, next to the plane you named after your daughter. Fans are gathered around the area with signs and photos, desperate for a glimpse of your ex-husband. You smooth out your outfit before exiting your car, a member of security opening the door for you. Your daughter comes barreling towards you from the backseat of Elvis' car, her stuffed dog in her grasp. 
"Hi baby!" you coo, kneeling down to her level and fixing her shirt that had become crooked at some point, "Say goodbye to daddy."
Elvis waves at you and your daughter from the car, and you motion for your daughter to wave back. He blows her a kiss which she giggles at. Security helps her into the backseat, where she sits and plays with her dog. Vernon gets out of the car, allowing the two of you to speak privately. You give him a close-lipped smile and nod to him in acknowledgment. He smiles a sad smile back to you as the backseat door is opened for you. Climbing in, you sit down and don't look at Elvis or say a word. 
Elvis breaks the silence, "Hey," he whispers.
"Hi," you whisper back.
It's silent again for a moment before you clear your throat, "How have you been?"
The last time you saw him face to face was a few months back. Your mother had traded off your daughter to him last time because you had something to do for work, so you haven't seen Elvis for quite some time. His looks have changed a lot since he's gained some weight and is much more tired-looking than before. He has started walking with a cane, even. He doesn't say anything but sighs deeply without a word. You hesitantly reach your hand out to touch him but rest your hand on his instead. 
"Honey, there's this place," you say quietly, grasping Elvis' hand, "It's in San Diego. You can go there to rest. To heal."
Elvis doesn't respond but instead keeps his sunglass-covered gaze on the car's floor.
"After the show, you can fly directly there before anyone knows. It's all been arranged," you say, leaning over to catch Elvis' attention in his peripheral.
"I'm gonna be forty soon, Y/N. Forty," Elvis breathes out as he stares out the window, "And nobody's gonna remember me. I never did anything lasting. I never made a classic film that I could be proud of."
"But what about A Star Is Born?" you ask.
"Barbara," Elvis pauses, "And the Colonel," he says, a small smile on his face.
You giggle at him, and his smile grows a little. You pause for a second, a wave of emotion coming over you. You wanted to see him actually laugh again.
"Please go," you say, tears collecting in your eyes, "For your daughter?"
Elvis remains silent, his eyes cast down.
"If you can dream it, you can do it, baby," you begin to fully cry now.
"I'm all out of dreams," Elvis says brokenly.
"Elvis, please," you hiccup, "Please do this for our daughter. You can't keep going on like this. I won't let you. I can't- I won't let Y/D/N see you like this."
Elvis suddenly looks at you, "What do you mean?"
"I won't let you Y/D/N anymore unless you get help," you sob, wiping away tears as quickly as they come, "I'm so sorry, but I can't let you do this to yourself anymore. If you love her, you'll do this for her." 
He sniffs, tears streaming down his face, "I can't."
"Yes, you can. I know you can. You've been through so much. Please don't let the Colonel of all people ruin your life for good," you grasp his hand harder, "This is killing you, whether you want to accept it or not. And I'd rather our daughter have a father alive than dead, Elvis."
Elvis once again stays quiet, and you grow slightly frustrated, "Promise me," you say sternly.
Before he can respond, security knocks on the window to let him know it's time to go. You reluctantly get out of the car when the door is opened. He also climbs out of the car, and as you begin to walk away, you turn around to look at him.
"I will always love you," he mouths to you.
You nod your head, crying harder now, "I love you too," you mouth back. 
Elvis turns away and ascends the steps to the plane as you return to your car. After that, you don't speak for a week or so. You assume he didn't take your word or warning and you grow defeated. You fear the absolute worst- that he isn't going to rehab and will eventually get in too deep. You fear he won't be able to see his daughter again. But after a while, you get a call.
"Hello?" you ask, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you fold laundry in the kitchen.
"Hey, Y/N," a deep, southern voice says over the phone. You'd recognize it anywhere.
"Elvis?" you say, dropping the shirt you were folding and grabbing the phone entirely, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, sweetheart. I did what you asked," Elvis says, "I admitted myself into the rehab."
Happy tears prickle your eyes as relief washes over you, "You did? I'm so glad, honey."
"I'd do anything for my daughter and anything for you," Elvis says.
"Thank you," you say with a smile on your face, even though he can't see it.
"No," Elvis objects, "Thank you. I feel like hell, but it'll be worth it."
"Yes, it definitely will. I'm proud of you," you say.
"I have to go now, but I'll talk to you and Y/D/N soon, alright?" 
"Alright. Goodbye, Elvis," you say.
"Goodbye, Y/N."
Eventually, Elvis does get better. He loses weight and takes better care of himself while sobering up. He's in rehab for quite some time, taking care of the turmoil he's gone through while learning how to cope. He realizes what the Colonel has done over the years to the full extent and fires him permanently. Jerry becomes his full-time manager, and Elvis finally gets to go on a world tour. The two of you work on things in your relationship and do get back together eventually. You move back to Graceland with your daughter, and the three of you live happily until the present day. You never regret making Elvis choose between drugs and his daughter because, in the end, he made the right choice for himself and your family. 
taglist: @graceamico @cozacorner @onxlymnsn @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @jolovesfandoms @austinbutler17 @slutforblueeyes @misspygmypie @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @bobbykennedyfan @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @kaycinema @thatonemoviefan @kittenlittle24
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robinismywife · 8 months
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[ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 ] (p.4)
PAIRING: Elvis Presley x fem!reader
SUMMARY: Y/n has an interesting conversation with Colonel Tom Parker, one that makes her question everything.
WARNINGS: Idek. If you find any plz inform me!!
A/N: Most of the information in this chapter might be inaccurate but it's all for the plot girlies ;) Thank you SO much for being patient with me. I know the plot is moving slowly but believe me we're getting somewhere! <3
PREVIOUS CHAPTER : PART 3
(the gif is not mine!)
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"Are ya ready honey?"
"No, it's embarassing- Everybody's looking at me all weird and we're not even in there yet.." She pouted with a pleading look on her face, which had the exact opposite effect on Elvis than she had anticipated. Instead of feeling bad for her and comforting her, he burst out laughing and shaking his head in disbelief "What?! E, I think I'll just stay outside I-"
"Aw nah, I ain't hearin' none of that Y/n- I done told ya that I want ya there, honey" Now it's his turn to frown and plead, grabbing her hands soflty and rubbing circles on them.
"Really..?"
"Really. I really want ya in there with me. You're my person, you know? Everybody needs a support system, hmm? What'd you say?"
"Oh fine! But I'm only doing this for Frank Sinatra" Y/n wrapped her arm around his bicep as they stepped into the studio. The flashing lights were blinding them and she had to constantly look down so as not to step on something important and ruin the entire set up. Everybody was working hard to create a magical homecoming special just for Elvis, and Y/n couldn't believe that she was allowed to be there and watch as the two biggest stars on earth got to work together and bond over their love for music.
"Right, honey, right" Elvis chuckled at the girl, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. If it were any other guy acting cocky exactly the way he did she would've been pissed off, however, Elvis had such a charm about him that even his teasing felt like the biggest compliment.
"I ain't lying! I've been dying for an autograph- For my collection, you know?"
"You haven't asked for my autograph.." Elvis' lip jutted out slightly and dissapointment seemed to wash over his pretty features.
"Love, I get to hug you and kiss your pretty lil' pouty lips every day- Your autograph is the least of my concerns" Y/n laughed at how the boy's eyes lit up for a short moment "Now, get me to Mr. Sinatra now!"
"Yes, ma'am"
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Y/n could help but stare in shock as Elvis and Frank rehearsed their duet. This all felt like a dream, a fever dream. She was sure she would soon wake up in a pool of sweat and realize that everything was her sick brain's creation. Nevertheless, the way her heart pounded and the music echoed in her head, reassured her that this was her reality. Y/n was Elvis Presley's new girl.
The thought made her a bit dissapointed, how she would be depicted in the media soon. Just another one of his girls! How long will this one last?! It all felt a little overwhelming. She truly was head over heels in love with the charismatic man before her, but what if he didn't feel the same? What if he cheats on her? What if he's cheating on a girl right now? Could she be some mistress on the side and not know it? What poor girl is left thinking he'll come back?
All these questions flooded her one track mind, making her completely oblivious of her new company.
"So you met Frank, dear girl?"
Y/n turned her head only to find the Colonel sitting next to her, his walking stick rested between his legs.
"I did, Colonel, he's a very nice man" She responded carefully, finding herself stiffening up. It's like he always wanted to catch people slipping up and saying things that they would surely regret, things that he could use against them. Y/n never trusted this man and she never really would.
"Don't be fooled, my girl," The Colonel scoffed in disagreement "That man is anything but nice"
"What makes you say that..?" Y/n suddenly felt a little sad at the prospect of Frank Sinatra being a horrible human being. The small paper with his autograph in her pocket seemed to burn her through her clothes. Was just every celebrity that corrupted after all?
"He almost ruined that boy's career in seconds, little girl," He pointed at Elvis with his pretentious walking stick "Telling reporters how Mr. Presley's music- How rock and roll music fosters negative and destructive directions in young people" The man immitaded Franks voice, obviously making fun of the man.
"I- I- I don't know what to say, sir- I guess it was new back then?"
"Still, if you ask me, that man's a hypocrite- Always bashing my boy in the media but the moment he can make profit off of him, suddenly he forgets"
"Then why did you allow Elvis to do this? If that's how you feel"
"For the money of course, dear girl, and his reputation second. But money is always the priorety. How else do you think we haven't gone bankrupt? Mr. Presley surely has a spending problem, wouldn't you say?"
"What I'd say is that makes you a hypocrite, Colonel, just like the man you've been talking down on" Y/n couldn't stop the words from escaping her lips. She mentally noted to avoid Colonel Parker at all costs from now on. She didn't have the patience to deal with him again.
"A hypocrite? Nah, my girl, I'm merely doing what he's doing- He started it, not me" He smirked at her with a weird glint in his eye. Y/n couldn't understand his way of thinking. She was truly wondering how Elvis even communicated with this man, let alone plan projects and performances.
"Besides my boy will be in the movies now, eh? No need to worry about that damn rockabilly business no more"
"Movies? What mo-?"
"Colonel why are ya talking my girl's head off, huh?" Elvis stepped up to them, teasing an otherwise serious Colonel.
Did Elvis even know about these movies? Yes, Elvis had made movies in the past but it was never anything that could jeopardize his singing career. The Colonel's words kept ringing in her head. She had to find a way to talk to him about this, see how he feels about all these plans the Colonel had made for him. God knows what contracts that greedy fraud of a man had signed without Elvis' approval.
When they were finally in the backseat of their car, Y/n could actually think without the loud piano echoing around the set. What was she even getting herself into?
Y/n thought that she knew the music industry like the back of her hand, always surrounded by the most important singers and musicians of her time. However, that all came crushing down that day. In her eyes Elvis seemed like the most powerful man, someone who simply snaps his fingers and gets everything he wants without so much as lifting his pinkie. She decided that it was all a lie, a deception. How could she be so stupid as to think that musicians were anything more than a puppet on a string? A pretty face covering a corrupted industry full of money-hungry record companies and managers, just like Colonel Parker. And perhaps like RCA?
No. Now, daddy wouldn't work there if he knew all that, would he?
And now that she was thinking about it; How could she allow herself to be involved with such a man? A man like Elvis Presley. A man so blessed yet so trapped in his own good fortune and success. Maybe it would be best if this was all temporary, if she didn't end up marrying Elvis. Y/n didn't want to be trapped in that miserable life. Obviously, she would have anything she wanted supposing she stuck by Elvis' side. Clothes, diamonds and pearls, cooks and maids all working for her, all taking care of her. She wouldn't have to worry about a thing ever again.
Y/n had to slightly shake her head in order to push away that thought. No way was she going to abandon her career and independece for wealth and comfort. She had promised herself she would never do such a thing. Never. Y/n knew she was too smart and too hard-working to go to waste. No man could ever make her change her mind, even the charming Elvis Presley.
"What is that lil' brain of yours thinking over there, Littl'un?" Elvis' eyebrow lifted slightly in curiosity and amusement.
"Nothin' just how amazing today was, hun" Y/n tried to smile as nonchalatly as she could.
"Now, don't lie to me, baby- You were staring out that window like some damn lost puppy" Elvis got suddenly too serious for Y/n's liking, his protective side taking over. She couldn't deny the fact that his overprotectiveness was attractive, which made her mind lose focus from the current situation.
"It's fine, I tell ya, Elvis-"
"Aw hell!" He exclaimed as if he realized something important "The Colonel wasn't mean to ya or somethin', was he? He didn't bother you?"
"I- um-" Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Was this the right time to mention the movies the Colonel had told her all about? "No, hun, we just talked is all"
"Just talked? You sure about that?" Elvis narrowed his pretty blue eyes as if he was waiting for Y/n to crack and spill all of her darkest secrets.
"Yes, Elvis, just talked" Y/n laughed slightly to try to lighten the mood, which seemed to work since his gaze softened "Don't be so tore up about it- I'm a big girl I can fend for myself, hmm?"
"Yeah, you're right, I- I- I- I'm sorry Littl'un- I'll tell ya what, how about we don't go out tonight, we stay in, just you and me, eh?" He rubbed circles on her knee, finally making her headspace quieten down
"Sounds lovely, E" Y/n couldn't be more grateful that he didn't question her any further. This was a problem for another day, she wouldn't worry about it anymore.
Right?
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
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maraguanabana · 6 months
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okaaaaay so. I haven't done a race report in weeks. let's go
it's literally 3 am in my country (Latam arise), the race finished at 2 am and that thing left me shaking. for real.
Charles deserved the win, and you can argue with the wall thank you. that was a brilliant drive (Ferrari's Pit Stops/Strategies: I despise you. Safety Car: I knew I disliked you after Abu Dhabi 2021, but you have decided to take my displeasure and hatred to the next level. so it'll be that then)
Still, Max did a good job. I guess. (I just don't want to come to therms to the fact that he has reached Seb's wins. let me grieve it please and thank you. I know Max was as great as always. I just need a second. or a whole week)
Congrats to Checo on being P2 in the Drivers Championship (this is out of pure obligation because I do not like that man, and I wanted Lewis to get that runner-up. sorry not sorry)
and, I swear here and now, that I fucking hate Las Vegas. WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU MAKE A RACE AT 12 AM. WHY. it's 10 pm on Nevada bUT STILL THAT'S A SHITTY TIME.
also my fav thing of this weird ass weekend is that Max quite literally said Fuck you Las Vegas and PR went 'you're gruounded young man' and got him an Elvis race suit. that, that was hilarious
alongside whatever the fuck was going there. jesus. I fully expect a communiqué tomorrow that some drivers decided to recreate Hangover but make it F1 version (btw I'm loving the fanfics. please keep them going) I'm psychologically prepared to read a PR release that Max and Charles decided to marry each other and that Pierre and Yuki got re-married (joking)
and yeah that's it. it was good if you ignore the fact that it could've been Ferrari's second win this season if it was not for Ferrari's luck.
PD. actually shattered for my Danny Boy. I really wanted him to have a great result here. It is, after all his dreamed track.
PD2. WHAT THE JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WAS THE START AND TURN 1. like. what. TWO SC. ONE VSC. AND A THOUSAND YELLOW FLAGS? I guess that was happens in Las Vegas does not stays in Las Vegas anymore. welcome to the social media era. tadaaaa
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thatbanditqueen · 11 months
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Basic Training Ch 3
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A response to the prompt: "You're staring." Thanks to my harem cohort @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @be-my-ally @powerofelvis and @whositmcwhatsit
Summary: Bess heads to the dance the Morale, Welfare and Recreation Committee for the 37th armored tank division is throwing, and manages to avoid dancing with the most notorious soldier on post, who cannot seem to take his eyes off her.
Warnings: None! Wait, kissing. Swear words. This may be the slowest burn yet. Probably typos, I wrote about 1K words over the last three days and then the rest in a fever dream. So.... may not make sense. Also I am pretty sure the first phase of basic training would not have them in tanks yet, but....I am playing fast and loose with Army life in this one.
Word Count: 5. 3 K
This is my newest WIP, please like, comment, reblog and tag and let me know what you think. Thank you for reading.
You can catch up on the previous chapters here
Basic Training Chapter 3: Just Kiss Me
Saturday, April 5, 1958
7:30 p.m.
The Schwartz Residence, Killeen
Just as her shoe hit the bottom stair, Bess realized she had left her lipstick in her room and was turning back around to grab it when she saw Kay sitting in the living room, dressed in a pink cocktail dress. Her puffy crinoline skirt was gathered in a heap around her as she shifted in place, adjusting her pearl necklace.
“Um, where do you think you are going?”
Kay looked up, tucking her brown hair behind her ear as she eyed the tight, fitted sheath dress Bess was wearing. She smiled at how the white sequins and embroidered red flowers glowed iridescent in the dim light and whistled low.
“Who are you dressing up for? The guy who you snuck in last weekend?”
“What makes you think there’s a guy, Katherine, honestly. I don’t sneak men into our house.”
“Uh huh,  so you’re all gussied up in your favorite dress just for a bunch of enlisted soldiers?”
Kay grabbed her purse and followed her sister to the door.
“Why are you being weird Bess, I always come with you? You’ve been going to army dances since you were sixteen. I’m about to graduate, plus, I told Dickey I’d meet him there.”
Bess sighed, thinking of Kay’s latest boyfriend. She supposed that she should be happy because he seemed like a harmless nerd, and, according to the files she had pulled on him, was not married, inbred or bankrupt.
“I just - we - I didn’t invite you to this dance because it’s an enlisted platoon. I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Wow, you must really like who ever it is, if you don’t want me to see you with him. Too bad. Dori called earlier and told me to come. She’s been trying to reach you all day, by the way.”
Bess locked the door, and they got into her car.
“Can you believe her date?”
“Mmmhmmm.”
“Of course, then it all made sense why you guys would be messing around with an enlisted tank unit. How did Dori even get involved with their MWR Committee.”
Bess rolled up her skirt so she could comfortably drive, and shifted into reverse, arching her eye bow at her younger sister as she did.
“How do you think? She asked to be reassigned to it two weeks ago.”
“Man oh man, she really is lucky. I wonder if we’ll all get to dance with Elvis?”
“Look, Kay, they sent out a memo to everyone, do NOT make a spectacle over Private Presley. Just act like he’s any other solider”
“Of course Bessie bushka. I’m on my best behavior.”
Bess looked Kay in the eyes as they pulled through the base gate.
“I am just going because I told Dori I would, I don’t wanna stay too late. So maybe Dickey Rooney can drive you home if you wanna swing all night?”
“Yeah, sure, ja volt. You don’t have to be ein klafte, Elisabet.”
**************************************************************
The tight cloth of her dress didn’t have much give, and Bess regretted her choice as she tried to keep up and hold on as she danced
“Look, this is tactical move that requires delicate maneuvers—”
“I’m not spiking the punch, Jim.”
Bess huffed and got into her rhythm as they kept up with the band’s rendition of “Tutti Fruity.”  If she let her self relax and swing into each step, it was almost like old times when she, Jim and Ben used to go out dancing in Austin or Killeen and she’d take turns dancing with her fiancee and his best friend all night. They had been the three musketeers. But that was last year, when she had a fiancee. And a different future peering back at her from her crystal ball.
The music brought her out of her silent reverie, and Bess looked to her where the band was performing on stage. The lead singer’s voice reverberated through the building, echoing up into the tin ceiling and back down again, making the room buzz with energy. There were six people in the all-Black Flapjacks: drums, guitar, bass, trumpet and then a male and female vocalist. The men wore matching silver dinner jackets and black bow ties, and the beautiful, Black woman had on a gorgeous silver dress with tulle flowers at the bust.
Bess took a deep breath, her attention shifted back to Jim, whose hands were always steady, but never needy. She was grateful he had agreed to come when she called last night and asked. A year ago they had spent almost all their free time together. Stalwart, an honorable prankster, Jim wasn’t shipping out to the Army Intelligence station in Heidelberg for another two months and Bess wondered if their friendship would end. If Ben’s new German wife would win him over and, like his friend before him, Jim would forget all about the last three years of shared adventures and promises of a lifelong friendship. Men mean it in the moment, Bess thought, I suppose women do to. Forever. What a meaningless word. How can we plan forever when we cannot know the future? The song ended and Jim escorted her off to the side. She looked for her sister, and found her swaying with her beau towards the back, hands clasped together between the lock-eyed look of first love.
“I forgot how good a dancer you are, Schwartz. And in that dress, whoowee! You’re a knock out tonight.”
“You can cut the flattery, Jameson, still not spiking the punch.”
“S’not flattery, how dare you insinuate that I would be disingenuous? You look good all dolled up, s'nice to see you this way. It’s almost like fun Bess is back, though a year ago she wudda helped me spike the punch.”
He took out his large, dark leather flask and handed it to her after taking a nip. Bess’ face scrunched up in distaste as the vodka burned down her throat, but she greedily held on and took another long drink.
“A year ago I didn’t work here, I was just hanging out with some of the reprobates from the German language division. Now it would be bad form for a Front Office secretary to spike the punch.”
“Look around, Bessie, this crowd needs to relax. They’re alllllll keyed up waiting for that Hound Dog.”
Jim was right, a heightened sense of anticipation pervaded the warehouse, even the strings of colorful paper lanterns seemed to sway with anxious excitement above them. Bess looked over at the big bowl of punch, next to the trays of deviled eggs, brisket sliders, the lime jello mold filled with seafood salad, pineapple upside down cake and more. She was sizing up the punch and checking her breath as they waited for the next song when she heard a wave of hushed murmurs ripple through the large room and turned to see Elvis, Dori and a few other soldiers in dress uniform enter the dance together. Bess’ eyes narrowed as Elvis’ looked at her.
Jim followed her gaze, then met Bess’ eyes.
“There he is, as handsome as he looks in the movies.”
Bess’ grimace could have cut through glass as she turned to her friend and elbowed him.
“Not you too?”
“What, art thou so high above us mere mortals that you don’t find Elvis Presley attractive, Schwartz? To gouache for a scholar like you?”
“It’s Private Presley now. And I’m not made of marble, Captain. Of course I recognize his attractive features. He just isn’t my type.”
She sniffed, and grabbed the flask from inside Jim’s uniform, the breath coming out of her nose forcefully as she drank a long draught.
“I’ve met him, actually, already. I was there.” Bess took another drink, tipping the flask back again and noticing that the liquid didn’t burn so much this time. “When he asked Dori out. I’m happy for her.”
Elvis and Dori began walking toward them, and Jim noticed how Bess’ stance changed as she crossed her arms and pursed her lips, suggesting that she what felt was the opposite of 'happy for Dori.'
“Well, I was at the press conference his first day here, at least four reporters asked if he has a girlfriend. Said he was playing the field so many times, sounded like a broken record.”
Bess straightened as she watched Elvis’ hand tighten around Dori’s waist and push under her bust while the blonde leaned into it and introduced Elvis to some of the eager MWR committee members who had stopped them.
“Yeah, that would be the alternate version of Hound Dog, it’s on the B side.”
Jim chuckled at Bess’ joke, but she didn’t notice, she was busy watching the Hound Dog himself, and caught Elvis glance over at her and give a little nod before his lips bent into a smirk. She realized she was frowning and plastered a big smile on her face. Jim watched this exchange with interest as Bess turned back when he spoke.
“Yeah, I see what you mean. Definitely not your type.”
Bess scowled and whispered for him to stop as Elvis, Dori and another soldier approached them.
“Why Captain Daniels, how nice to see ya over at this little ol’ dance for the 37th, are you Bess’ date ta night? Or sneaking in to try and meet you-know-who?”
Dori giggled and playfully tapped Elvis’ chest. In case, you know, they didn’t get whom she was referencing.
Jim nodded and shook his hand to stop Elvis and the other soldier from saluting him.
“Oh, neither, actually, I’m just here to make sure Schwartz doesn’t spike the punch.”
“Don’t believe a word the Captain here says. This is a great introduction, by the way. Captain Daniels, meet Private Presley, you know Doreen of course, and then, well, I cannot say we’re acquainted.”
The liquor had loosened Bess up and she giddily put out her hand to the other soldier, as Elvis fiddled with the blue dress uniform cap under his right arm and took charge of the conversation.
“This is Rexadus, I mean, uh, Private Mansfield, he’s in the 37th wit me, another Mephisss boy, we were inducted ta gather, actually." Now Elvis was turning his hat over and examining it, speaking with confidence, almost as if from a script he had rehearsed in his head. "He’s a solid, solid, guy. He really is. Guess I’m lucky, since he’s spending all his time stuck in a metal box with my ass - I mean stuck with my behind.”
Rex her shook their hands with tight, swift grip and a warm smile. Jim raised his eyebrows at Bess.
“And how do you find the Army, so far, Privates?”
“Well, it was easy ta find, just follow all the tanks.” Elvis  smiled and  looked down. “Nah, well, speaking’ jus for me, I mean, I was real honored when President Eisenhower sent me an invitation to this here costume party, and all the boys are real nice."
There was that scripted voice again, Bess mused. She had seen under the hood and Elvis' attitude toward being drafted had not struck her as honored and grateful.
"It’s not easy, golly, I tell you, it’s really whooping my - uh - caboose. But I never felt I earned my supper so well, that’s the God’s honest truth.”
Dori giggled like Elvis was the wittiest man in the world, but he barely noticed, his eyes were focused on Bess and she coughed, uncomfortably. It was hard not stare back. She almost forgot to breathe, and exhaled deeply as she forced herself to look over at the band.
Her eyes trailed over to the food, and she looked back at Elvis with concern, knowing he rarely actually went to the mess hall. He had been meeting her at her back stairwell every evening at 5:15, opening her car door and getting in without even asking. As if it were his own car and sliding across her seat was the most normal thing in the world. It actually did seem normal now, and had become part of her daily routine these last three days. They sat there in their own private enclave, and every time, as he laid his head between her thighs and rubbed her waist, she told him that they were just friends hanging out. Yesterday they’d talked past dinner hours and she’d ask him if he didn’t want to go to get food, prompting Elvis to share how someone had yelled out in line at him Monday, asking if he missed his teddy bears, and he hadn’t gone back since. Sergeant Norwood’s wife, apparently, was providing him with a loaf’s worth of peanut butter sandwiches every night. But that wouldn’t have happened this evening and Bess thoughtfully looked over at the food table.
“You must be hungry. All of you, I mean.” Bess stuttered, trying not to stare at Elvis, which, for some reason, backfired, because consciously trying not to made her think about him even more and she failed horribly at being able to stray from his blue eyes for very long. “Because you just got here. Of course.”
Dori smiled and took this as her cue to play hostess and lead Elvis away to the refreshments.
“Yes, of course, of course, y’all must be hungry, doing those tank exercises all day. I made the seafood dip over there in the jello mold, it’s a recipe from Ladies’ Home Journal, you simply must try it and tell me what you think.”
“Aw, darlin’, I don’t, don’t eat seafood.”
“The brisket is pretty good.” Bess chimed in.
Dori smiled even deeper.
“Hmm, well, I suppose it’s probably ok for a Yankee like ya self, Bess honey.”
She pulled her arm tighter around Elvis, leading him to to the brisket as Bess heard her say, “Personally, I find Millie’s brisket a little bland and dried out, but come on, you’re a growin’ boy, need to refresh ya energy.”
Dori’s giggle trilled back as she walked him away and Bess frowned again when Elvis turned back over his shoulder, clearly grinning deeper as he took in Bess’ eyes following him.
She made small talk with Rex, mentioning how the last time she had heard this band, The Flapjack’s, they had played all of Elvis’ big hits and there had been none tonight.
“He bribed them.”
Rex whispered, looking over at where Elvis and Dori stood, as she fed him a deviled egg and then a brisket slider, sticking her finger in his mouth to lick the barbecue sauce off. Her high laugh echoed all throughout he warehouse, prompting Bess to roll her eyes.
“Bribed them?”
“Yeah,” Rex continued. “Not to play ‘Hound Dog,’ not to play any of ‘em. And he bought cases of cigarettes for all the guys in our unit. He wants to make sure tonight is nice, smooth, and normal. As it can be for him, I suppose.”
Before she had the opportunity to inquire further Bess was distracted by the band as they started up a new song, a rendition of Johnny Mathis’ “Chances Are,” and she watched Dori squeal that she loved this song.
 Bess smiled at Rex.
“Well Private, want to cut a rug?”
He hesitated. “Uh, I think -" he looked over at Elvis, who was making his way to the corner of the dance floor. “Probably better if I don’t, gonna go check out the chow.”
“C’mon, you little Yankee, I’ll dance with you, even if you have no taste in brisket.” Jim took her hand and raised his eyebrow. “By the way, Elvis Presley is in love with you Bess.”
“Stop it, Jameson.”
“Did you see how his buddy hardly touched you?”
“How would he know? These boys don’t talk about their crushes in their bunks at night. ‘Sides,he is here with a date.”
“Oh fooey! Elvis doesn’t have to tell him anything, all Rexadus, or anyone need do, is clock how that boy looks at you and, man, that’s all she wrote. You don’t dance with another soldier’s girl, it’s the code. Dori doesn’t stand a chance, honey, he’s just too polite to turn her down. I bet his mama is just like her. Which is probably why he likes you.”
Bess gave him a stare.
“Ok, maybe not exactly like Dori. I cannot see the good Mrs. Presley making you go all the way to Dallas so she can dress shop at the boutiques. They were share croppers, right?”
Bess nodded at Jim as she swayed with him, attempting very hard not to look over at where Elvis and Dori slowly danced.
“Something like that. Very very poor. But Jim, you dance with me, and I was your friend’s girl for two years.”
“That’s different Bess, I hate most women.” Jim looked back over at Rex and his voice trailed off. "Most people, actually. You are saving me from all the eager beavers here looking to snag an officer as a husband.”
“Well, looking around, some of them would probably settle for snagging just a night with an officer.”
They laughed and Jim led her around the dance floor in perhaps the most chaste slow grip of any of any officer or gentleman that danced a slow dance that evening.
The song ended, and the band kept going with their version of Sam Cooke’s hit “You Send Me.”
Bess could not help herself, and found her eyes move to watch Dori press her cheek to Elvis’ and it made Bess’ stomach clench inadvertently. Elvis’ eyes locked on hers while he pulled Dori tighter to him, tilting his head with a smirk. Something in his eyes told Bess he could tell how much she envied her girlfriend, a fact she refused to even concede to herself as she looked away, scanning the room for her sister. To her dismay, Kay was now kissing her dweeby young lieutenant toward the back of the warehouse, not so much dancing as staggering back and forth in place.
Hitting someone’s shoulder, Bess turned to apologize until she saw Elvis had moved Dori right behind them. She stepped hard on Elvis’ foot, then apologized loudly and profusely. That didn’t get him to scout off and they remained dancing next to each other as Jim ignored Bess’s pinches at his wrists clearly signaling for him to lead her away.
“Why hello there, Moo Moo, fancy bumping into you here?”
Dori smiled big and pushed her hands further up around Elvis neck as she swayed to the rhythm.
“Moo Moo? Y’all are gonna havta tell me bout that” Dori giggled. “And look at you Bessie, honey, I just LOVE your dress.” Her eyes moved to Jim. “Y’all having fun?”
Bess stepped closer to Jim, nodding and avoiding the coy irreverence in Elvis’ dark blue eyes as she slyly tried to navigate her partner away from them. She kicked Jim’s shin to let him know that if he did not politely guide her away this very instant she would begin to kick harder.
*******************************************************
Leaning against the wall during a ballad, Bess found herself making a mental note that Elvis’ seemed to avoid dancing to the faster songs. During this one, he had gone off to get some punch and then started walking in her direction only to be assaulted by a troop of MWR committee members, offering him samples of the desserts they had baked as a pretext to come and talk to him. Bess smiled as one asked him to dance, then turned at Mabel’s voice, observing the rosy glow of the other secretary’s cheeks.
“Mhmmm, the punch is good tonight.”
Bess smiled, then leaned in to smell Mabel’s glass.
“How many of these have you had, Mabel?”
The older woman replied without missing a beat. “Five.”
“I’m cutting you off, I think it’s been spiked.”
“Of course it has. By me.” Mabel took her glass back, gulping the rest down with a wink. “Someone needed to liven up this funeral. Hold this for me, won’t you?” She asked, and Bess’ jaw dropped a bit as she watched Mabel cut in on Dori.
Bess wondered if Mabel still preferred Burt Lancaster to the movie star she currently leaned her head against, happily watching her colleague cozily nuzzle into Elvis tall frame. He was a good sport, joking and swaying with Mabel for a second dance,  then stepping to the side and chatting with another swarm of woman who tried to contain their eagerness as they brought him another tribute of dessert platters.
Bess danced to The Flapjacks performance of “Jambalaya,” but quit as the music turned toward more and more ballads while the night went on. It was late, the people on the dance floor seemed to have coupled up and the decorum had slowly fallen to the wayside as the senior personnel disappeared. The air fell thick with a heady, hazy lust provoked by the swell of sweet, slow rhythm and blues and the release dancing provided from the stress of barracks life. Jim had ducked out, and Bess wished she had given Kay her keys and gone with him. She managed to stay as far away from Elvis as she could through he evening, which wasn’t hard. If Dori was not monopolizing him, he only made it a few feet before another woman tapped on his shoulder. During this time, Dori had cornered her and begun drilling Bess for information, asking why she didn’t pick up her phone anymore, and what the deal was with Elvis.
“Moo Moo? Is that a nick name? Are you sure y’all are just friends? Honey, say the word, and I will be on my way. I do not throw myself at men.”
Thinking of their double date last week, Bess restrained herself from explaining that this seemed to be Dori’s primary hobby.
“I promise, it’s a silly nick name, Moo Moo is what he called his childhood cow named, get this, Bess. I’m telling you, Doreen, we’ve just accidentally stumbled into a very casual friendship.” She rubbed her friend’s shoulder, and looked out at Elvis laughing with his dance partner.
“He's lonely, and just jives more with women. You saw him with Mabel in the office. I’m not saying I see wedding bells in your future either. But then again, Dori, you don’t want to get romantically involved with Elvis Presley, do you? I can only imagine the havoc he is going to wreak on the girls in this town once he gets his bearing and into phase two. That boy is a fast operator, so fast you don’t even know what happened and boom, you’re asking him out.”
Dori narrowed her eyes. “Mmmhmm. Well, honestly I don’t want to marry him, Bessie Boo. I just want to experience him. He is so soft, Bess. That jaw! And those eyes. Ufffff. And when he kisses you, oh, it’s like having lightening strike your cheek. I’m fixin’ to get more before the night is over, hopefully with my mouth.”
She winked as the song ended, and strode off to get him back. Bess had to giggle at the glare Dori shot a younger girl from the switchboard office who looked like she was about to ask Elvis to dance.
Lonely, awkward, and ready to be done, Bess rolled off the wall and told Kay she was ready to leave. Her sister politely told her to get bent, promising Dickey would drive her home. So Bess subtlety slipped out of the side door next to the stage and made her way towards her car, ambling slowly in the cool evening air. Bess found it a sweet respite from the crowded, stuffy ware house stuffy. Out here, it was peaceful, and she savored the darkness as she looked up into the black sky. The stars and moon were hidden by some clouds, and Bess tried to get lost in the murky shadows as she wandered away from the sounds of the dance. She begged the wind to tamp down the anxious buzzing in her head. It was then, when she paused in the passage way between two tall buildings, that she heard the sound of footsteps following her, and turned to see a tall, dark figure striding toward her with purposeful, swift steps. His shoulders were back and his hands were out and he slowed when he heard Bess speak.
“All dressed up and marching in a hurry, huh? Loose your parade, Tupelo?”
Elvis’ gait turned into a wide swagger and Bess stumbled into the building backing away from the force of Elvis’ magnetism. It was not a smart escape strategy because he followed in step, his hands on his waist as he looked her over.
“Al - al - always, the smart ass, huh?”
“I’ve been a smart ass my whole life, Tupelo. Try to keep up.”
Elvis shook his head, chuckling low.
“You’re staring. Stop it.”
“Honey, if you didn’t want me to stare at you, shoulda worn a different dress.”
She gasped, and Elvis stepped closer, his right arm up against the wall while his left moved over her waist and he whispered into her forehead, his voice was low, teasing, almost babyish.
“Be honest, Moo Moo, did you come out here cuz you wanted me to chase you?”
Bess looked at the eaves of the building above her, she could hear the faint sound of the band back at the dance playing “The Girl Can’t Help It” and Elvis hips swayed very slowly at half time with the beat.
“Nope, I, I was leaving, actually.”
“How could you leave without dancing with me, baby. Not even once. An ya hardly even talked to me all night. Every other girl in there is ready and rearin' ta pounce on me, but you make me come chase after you?”
“I’m - I’m not like very other girl, Elvis. I’m not trying - trying to ….”
The way his thumb trailed up her arm made Bess shudder and she lost her train of thought.
“Hmmm. Not tryin’ to what, Moo, huh?”
He leaned into her ear as he spoke, and the skin on her bare shoulder prickled as his thumb rubbed over it while he whispered softly.
His voice was warm on her neck, and it reminded her of the first summer Mama drove her and Kay down to Galveston spontaneously for a week. They had stayed in a cheap motel across from the beach and enjoyed the warm Gulf water while eating fried shrimp and hush puppies and getting sunburnt. There, in the golden sun of the Texas Gulf, Bess had forgotten how uncomfortable it was to move through the world. No, standing where the sun met the surf had set her free, and she had become a wild animal dancing in the water and screaming into the waves while the sand crabs tickled her feet.
Elvis’ breath on her neck had the same effect. She felt wild, relaxed, totally at the whim of her body as she bit her bottom lip and looked up at his half-lidded eyes. She wanted to pull him close and scream into his mouth, howl at the untamed force of nature that rippled beneath his cheeks. He tightened his hand at her waist and kissed her neck, but then stepped back at her shudder.
“Ya scared not scared of me, Moo Moo, are you?”
She shook her head, but trembled as Elvis fingers feathered lightly down her arm.
“You don’t never have to be scared of me, baby, I won’t ever hurt you.”
“Elvis, I -”
He kissed her neck again, murmuring into her skin. The top of his cap rubbed into her hair. “Wanna get out of here? Go somewhere we can jus… Talk?””
Just as Bess began to answer, she felt a light sprinkle of water on her nose and looked up as it started to drizzle down on them. The rain brought her wits back to her and she gently pushed Elvis away, feeling the water increase and her hair slip down over her face. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
“You are here on a date with someone else, and I have to go home.” Squeezing him in a tight hug, she kissed his cheek one last time as he nodded, before removing her heels and sprinting off through the puddles to find her car.
**************************************************
Bess had managed to wash her face and get her dress off before she succumbed to the extreme need for a pot of hot tea. Now she stood in her kitchen, towel drying her hair and shivering as she waited for the kettle to boil. Hearing a knock at the door, she yelled out hurrying to the front of the house.
“Kay, the door is open! Or is numbnuts a catching disorder -  shit.”
There was Elvis, hat in hand, on her front doorstep.
“Numbnuts?”
She swayed to the side, watching the back of a white Studebaker whirl around the corner. A white Studebaker very much like the one Mabel owned.
“My sister’s boyfriend is not the sharpest shooter in his platoon.” She held her robe closed as she looked down at her thin, white silk night gown. The thin matching robe didn’t do much, but she felt more decorous pulling it over herself.
“Did Mabel sneak you off post?”
Elvis grinned mischievously and strode past her into the house
“Hello to you too, Bessie, whatcha cookin, good lookin'?”
Closing the door, she shoved him as he walked backwards down the hallway.
“Don’t you hello me, what are you doing here?”
Elvis unbuttoned his jacket, and draped it around her shivering body.
“Still cold honey?” He drew her in, rubbing her shoulders. “Let me see if I can warm ya up.”
His jacket was still cozy with the heat of his body as he drew Bess into him. Breathless, she let him enclose her in his embrace, folding her arms into his chest as she lifted her chin up to gaze into his eyes.
“There she is, there’s a good lil Moo Moo.”
Elvis leaned down to bundle her further into him, his hands moving inside her open robe to caress the sides of her body, his nose stroking hers as she closed her eyes and whispered into his jaw.
“Elvis, you shouldn’t be here.”
“I know honey.” He pulled her closer, kissing her cheek at the fold of her earlobe as Bess crushed into his.
Her mind was racing, racing the with knowledge that at any moment her 17 year old sister would come home and probably know how to work the door knob. Racing with the knowledge that her father and mother were flying back to Waco tomorrow and she needed to be rested and alert when she drove to pick them up. Racing with the knowledge that Elvis Presley was the absolutely worst choice for a romantic entanglement or fling, not just because he was famous, handsome, rich and probably already dating any number of women in Los Angeles, Memphis and God knows where else. And therefore, an unimaginable person to be seen with publicly or explain to her family.
But it was worse than that, she could already tell, from the way her mind bent towards him all through the day when he wasn’t around, and directed itself to him with an intense, buzzing focus when he was. For these reasons, she knew he would be the worst kind of all-consuming distraction that she could possible let herself get involved with right now.
Her mouth had other plans. Namely, how could it find his mouth?
“Elvis.” She mumbled as her lips brushed the nape of his neck and her hands wrapped around his body.
“Yes Bess?”
He looked down at her as she tried to find the words she wanted to say.
“I - I - I”
“I know honey, you don’t date soldiers.”
She smiled a lazy, goofy half smile.
“Mmmhmmm.”
He gripped her tighter, pinching the flesh at her sides.
“Honey, dating is not the word on my mind right now. I am not interested in asking you on a date.”
He kissed her forehead.
“I do not have no intention of driving up to your house in my pink Cadillac.”
He kissed her nose.
“I don’ wanna have to come meet ya mama and shake your daddy’s hand.”
He kissed her cupid’s bow.
“And I definitely ain’t about to take you out to fancy restaurant and buy you dinner.”
He kissed her lightly on the top of her mouth, his teeth grating over her lip.
“I do not want to date you, Bess.”
“Good, because I don’t want to date you either.”
“So don’t date me, baby. Jus kiss me.”
**********************************************************
Click here to read Chapter Four: Dance
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sissylittlefeather · 10 months
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Would you do like a soulmate au between Elvis x fem!reader? Like maybe where the reader dreams of a man who plays her music and would sing to her, but would not reveal his name or where he is located. The two end up meeting when the reader ends up at one of Elvis’ shows. He looks out to the audience and their eyes meet. Both the reader and Elvis start crying since they finally found each other. After the show, the reader is in shock after what she just witnessed. Then Elvis comes out to see her and just envelopes her in a hug. Then from there it can end in a smut, but a fluffy and very romantic one (if that makes sense 😂). Then they just fall in love and end up together. Sorry this was long I just thought this would be an interesting take on a romance story.
Hey! I'm sorry this one took me so long. I think I rewrote the ending like 15 times 🤪. I hope you like it! I had a lot of fun writing this one, even though it's a little different for me. Enjoy!
Warnings: 18+ no minors, oral sex (f & m receiving), f/m p in v sex, unprotected sex, kissing, fingering, cussing, etc
A/N: I used an AB!Elvis gif because it's the right scene and an Elvis gif because he's just delicious.
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Dream a Little Dream of Me
You sit straight up in bed and look at the clock on your nightstand. 2am. You're exhausted, but going back to sleep will be difficult. You had the dream again. You've been having the same dream every night for weeks. Each time it's a little longer and you learn something new about him. The first dream was all flashes of pink and black. Since then, you've added blue eyes, full lips, strong hands, a guitar, and him singing to you, among other things. You don't know who he is, but you know he's someone important to you. The feeling you get in your stomach and chest when you wake up makes it abundantly clear that this is more than just a regular dream. Still, you've never gotten any indication of who he is or where you could find him. You're pretty confident he exists. You're not sure why, but you seem to know he's real. Still, you've never encountered anyone or anything that could point you to him.
"Did you have that weird dream again?" Your roommate asks sleepily. She's the only person you've told about the dreams, mainly because she's in the room when you wake up in the night.
"Yeah, but I'm okay. Go back to sleep, Janet." She rolls over and grunts. Must be nice to sleep so easily. You lay back down on your pillow, but every time you close your eyes, all you see are the flashes of him. You're starting to get very tired of this weird longing that you have for him, like you're incomplete without him. Part of you wants to go back to sleep to see more of him in the dream and another part of you wishes you'd never have the dream again. Still, if you could find him, then it would all make sense. You drift off to sleep with his voice in your head...
******
The next day, you drag yourself out of bed and groggily get ready for class. Every time you close your eyes you get another flash of the dream: white teeth, black hair, a microphone, more music, and always his voice. Once you've gotten yourself presentable in a pink and white striped cotton dress and cardigan, you grab your books and bag and head out the door. Janet stops you before you can get all the way through it by yelling from her side of the room, "Don't forget we're going to that show tonight at the carnival!"
Oh yeah, that. "I didn't forget! I'll see you later!"
You head to class and spend the rest of the day trying to focus on anything other than his voice in your head. Why do you miss him when you're awake? It doesn't make any sense...
******
"You can't just wear that. You at least need to take off the cardigan and add some lipstick or something." Janet pleads as you get ready for the carnival together. You don't know why it matters what you're wearing, but you oblige and toss the cardigan on your bed. You're not going to mess with lipstick, though. It's too hot and you don't want to have to reapply it.
"There. Can we go now?" Janet nods her head up and down excitedly. You really would rather stay home and think about the dream. If you could just see his whole face all at once, maybe you could find him somewhere. Something in you tells you that he's close right now. Like if you walked around a bit, you might run into him. But that feels ridiculous. It's just a dream, right?
******
You're sitting next to Janet, sweat from the warm evening making your skin sticky, when they announce the next act will be someone called Elvis Presley. Some of the girls start screaming and run towards the stage. You and Janet look at each other and decide to make your way to the front together. Whoever this guy is, he must be a big deal, and you're not one to miss out on an experience, especially when it comes to music. You press in against the crowd so that you can see the stage from where you're standing. This "Elvis" finally makes his way to the mic in the middle of the stage and your heart absolutely stops.
It's him.
The pink jacket, the guitar, the black hair and blue eyes and full lips and big hands. You feel like you might hyperventilate and the pressure of the crowd around you doesn't help. Your heart is beating so fast you feel like it might jump right out of your chest.
As you watch him, it seems like he's nervous and a little disoriented too. For the first time, you wonder if maybe he's dreamed about you. No. That's just silly. But here he is. He's real and he's right in front of you. And he looks like he could use a little reassurance. You're filled with the urge to go to him, but he's on stage in front of all these screaming girls.
He takes a deep breath and starts to sing. If there were any doubts before about whether or not he was the one, they're gone now. You'd recognize that voice even if you were half dead. Something inside you feels like it's taken flight and the joy and excitement are overwhelming. He keeps singing and the sound of his voice hits you in places you didn't expect. As he's singing, he looks out at the crowd. His eyes seem to be searching for something. Your heart skips, thinking that maybe he's looking for you. And then it happens.
His eyes lock onto yours.
A deep contentment settles in your chest like a sigh and you feel a lump form in your throat. The tears gather in your eyes and start to slide down your face. He tries to look away but he always comes back to you and you notice his eyes seem a little watery too. He looks up at the ceiling and tries to refocus on what he's doing. You know he's feeling what you're feeling.
"Y/n, are you crying? Are you okay?" You hear Janet holler at you. You sniff and wipe your face.
"Yeah, I'm just... it's just... Janet, it's him." At first Janet has a blank look, then it turns to shock, and then relief.
"Oh! That makes so much sense! You probably saw him on a poster or something somewhere and started dreaming about him! I mean, I'll probably dream about him too after this!" You know that's not what happened; it's so much more than that. But it's not worth it to try to explain it to her, so you just nod your head and look back up to the stage. He catches your eye again and this time he winks playfully. Your whole body turns hot and you're filled with a need for him to touch you. The show continues and you spend most of it bouncing between figuring out how to get to him afterwards and trying not to cry when you make eye contact while he sings. Every girl around you shrieks that he's looking at her, but you know better. That look is just for you. You have to find a way to get backstage...
******
After the show ends, you walk out with Janet, but you want to find a way to ditch her. Your body feels like it's in shock from what just happened while he was on stage. It still doesn't seem quite real that you actually found the man you've been seeing in your dreams all this time. But how do you get to him?
"Are you ready to go?" Janet asks. She can tell you're lingering.
"Umm, no, I think I want to stick around for a bit. You can go ahead. I'll be fine." The carnival is within walking distance of campus, so you know you can get home okay. Walking alone at night makes you a little nervous, but nothing is going to stop you from finding him. Janet nods and joins another group of girls that you both know from school. She's trusting; you have to give her that.
The crowd outside the performance area is thinning as you stand there without a clue about what to do next. Then, there's a light tap on your shoulder. Your heart skips several beats and you turn around to find him standing there behind you.
"Hey, baby."
He's taller than you thought and being this close, you can really see the details of him. You recognize the pieces and seeing them all put together is a little overwhelming. Suddenly, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. You stand there in shock for a second before you throw your arms around his neck. You hold onto each other like this for a while, neither of you wanting to let go. Connecting with him feels like a cosmic miracle. There could be a hurricane around you and you wouldn't notice because of the calm that settles inside you when you're in his arms. Finally, he pulls back from the hug and puts his hands on either side of your face.
"Come with me."
He takes your hand and starts to walk towards the back of the stage. You make your way together to a dressing room with his name on the door. It's small, but there's a wide couch and a vanity with lights around it. He closes the door behind you and turns to face you.
"How is this possible?" He asks.
"I don't know. Have you had--"
"Dreams? Yes. About you. For weeks." He moves a piece of your hair off of your forehead and gently tucks it behind your ear. He brings his hand back to your cheek.
You're suddenly filled with an overwhelming need for him to kiss you and you feel like you could cry again. As a tear escapes your eye and makes its way down your cheek, he catches it with his thumb and wipes it away. Then, he leans in and kisses your cheek where the tear was. He lingers on your cheek for a bit before he moves his lips down to your mouth, hovering there just above you. With the hand that was on your cheek, he tips your chin up. Your heart is beating so fast that you feel like it might jump right out of your chest. Finally, his lips touch yours. He kisses you softly, but everything inside of you is exploding. Just when you think you're the only one feeling anything, you realize that his hands are trembling slightly. He pulls back out of the kiss and puts his hands on your hips to steady himself.
"Darlin' I-I I'm sorry, I don't know what's got into me." You smile up at him reassuringly.
"I'm a little thrown off too. I just can't believe you're real."
"I'm as real as it gets, honey." He moves his hands around to your back, pulling you closer to him. You put your arms around his neck again and press your body up against his. Something in your stomach tenses up as the shock of finding him wears off, only to be replaced by something else. You need him. You need his big, strong hands on every inch of your body. You need his full lips kissing the parts of you that no one sees. You need to hear his voice moaning with the pleasure of being inside you. He seems to experience the same thing, because now he's kissing you again. But not soft like before. No, now he's kissing you with the full pressure of his tongue moving in your mouth, pausing only to nibble on your bottom lip periodically. He has one hand on the back of your neck, fingers tangled in your hair, and the other on your lower back pulling your hips into his. You absolutely melt into his kiss, returning his passion with your own. He walks you backwards a little and pins you up against the door, both hands on your hips as he grinds into you. You feel his hardness through his pants and the place between your legs becomes warm and wet. He needs you too, needs to feel you around him, needs to taste you, needs to be deeper inside you than either of you ever thought possible. He picks you up easily and carries you over to the plush couch, his lips never leaving yours. You lay on your back with him on top of you, both legs wrapped around his waist. He moves his kisses down your cheek to your neck, stopping only to softly bite your earlobe. You've never had a man do that, but always wished one would. It's like he can read your mind and your body and knows exactly what to do with you. You moan at the feeling of his erection pressed against you. In one move, he unzips your dress and has it off of you and on the floor. His jacket and shirt hit the floor as well. You take in the sight of him while his eyes roam over your body as well. The dream flashes didn't prepare either of you for this depth of attraction. In a second, he's on top of you again. The places where your skin meets his are on fire with electricity and heat. His hands reach behind you as he unhooks your bra and tosses it to the side. The feeling of his skin against your nipples makes you weak with desire. You want more.
"Scoot up, honey." The sound of his voice catches you off guard. It's breathy and deep.
"Huh?" He puts his hands under your arms and moves you backwards to the edge of the couch. Then he positions himself between your legs and pulls on your panties, sliding them down to your ankles and off. You arch your back and throw your head back as he slips his index and middle fingers into you. He groans when he feels how tight and wet you are. He pushes his fingers into you several times, kissing the inside of your thighs. Then he uses his tongue to make circles on you exactly where you want him to be.
"Oh fuckkkk," you moan. He's reading your body so well that you almost pass out from the pleasure of his mouth on you. You can feel your release building as he continues what he's doing with his tongue and his fingers. This isn't the first time you've experienced this, but you've never had a man be so careful and specific with you before. There's nothing sloppy or unintentional about the way he moves. Every little motion is perfectly calculated to push you over the edge. He alternates between fingers and circles and pushing his tongue into you as the rush continues to build inside you. When you do climax, it's all you can do to keep from screaming and clamping your thighs around his face. You lay there shuddering and trembling as wave after wave of ecstatic pleasure wash over you. When he smiles at you from between your legs, you're overcome with the need to give him what he's given you. He tries to climb back on top of you, but you find your voice.
"No, sit up." He looks at you with a mischievous grin and obeys. You get on your knees on the floor between his thighs and go to unbutton his pants. Your hands are still shaking from your orgasm, though, so he helps you free himself. You use one hand to hold him and run your tongue in a circle around his tip.
"Oh, shit, baby." His voice is still deep and his breathing is heavier. You seem to be reading his body pretty well too.
You take all of him into your mouth and he cusses again and leans his head back, eyes rolling. You continue to work with your tongue and lips, licking and sucking him while he moans and grunts periodically. You get him just to the edge of his climax and stop. He looks at you abruptly, but you just smile playfully. You aren't finished with him yet. You help him pull his pants the rest of the way down and off until you're both completely naked. He's still in a sitting position, so you straddle him, placing one knee on the side of each of his hips. Then, you lower yourself onto him slowly and let him fill you up. He moans again and his hands automatically go to your rib cage, where he begins to control the pace of you sliding up and down on him. You ride him like this for a while, him pausing every few minutes to kiss and tease your chest. You bounce up and down quickly, reveling in the feeling of him hitting all of the right places inside you. Eventually, he stops you.
"Honey, I'm close." He whispers softly.
You put a hand on either side of his face and look into his eyes. You kiss him passionately before you whisper back, "I'm ready."
He flips you over and lays you down on the couch without pulling out of you. You keep your legs wrapped around his waist as he pumps into you deeply, the change in angle driving you both crazy. The sound of your bodies moving together mixes with the sweat of your mutual heat. You dig your fingernails into his back and he cries out as he slams into you as hard as he can, sending you over the edge again too. You feel his warmth fill you up as he collapses on top of you twitching with pleasure, your legs shaking as the waves continue to crash through you. He lays with his head on your chest, both of you breathing heavily and sweating.
"Fuck, baby, that was..."
"Incredible."
He looks up at you through the black hair that has fallen into his eyes.
"That wasn't in my dream."
You laugh. "It wasn't in mine either." You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. There's something deeper in this moment than simple intimacy. There's a feeling of destiny between you, like a prophecy being fulfilled or a purpose being met.
He lays his head back down on your chest with one of your hands in the back of his hair and the other drawing lazy circles on his back. For a moment, you're afraid he's fallen asleep. You know you could in the stillness of being with him.
"I need you to stay with me." His voice cuts through the dream-like haze you were in.
"Stay with you?"
"Don't ever leave me." He mumbles it quietly, like he's afraid of what your answer might be. He pulls you into a sitting position on the couch and puts his forehead against yours.
"I don't think I could stand missing you again." You know exactly what he means.
"I'm not going anywhere." You belong to each other. He knows it and you know it. He kisses you softly on the cheek again.
"My dream girl."
It should be a cheesy line, but in this case, it's absolutely true.
******
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lala1267 · 11 months
Text
Is it wrong? (Part 3)
Summary: Finally accepted her feelings.
Warnings: Age gap, mentions of Lolita's naked body, Lolita in a bra and panties.
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As the weeks flew by, their love only grew. Their souls fused together like chemical compounds, and their personalities were radiating off eachover. Lolita was a daisy fresh girl who brought light to anyone around her whilst Elvis was a sexy dark void with an alluring magnetic field. She was his little baby doll, and he was her Mr Rock n' Roll.
School-2:40pm
Lolita sat on the wooden chair. Her thighs stook to the glazed surface due to the heat, and her hair was frizzy. Her rose cheeks were warm, and her pink kissable lips were plush. Her big eyes scanned the book that was placed on her wooden desk. All she saw were scrambled letters and constilations that contorted into weird shapes. Her attention was torn from her book and onto the lady who stood in the doorway. It was a member of staff with a yellow note in her hand. Her heels sounded against the glazed wooden floor with each step she took. She stood next to Lolita's desk before placing the folded note on her book. Lolita's doll eyes stared down at it.
"A man came into the office and told us to give this to you."
The lady said before leaving.
"Hey baby, I would like you to come to my show tonight if you're free. It starts at 8.30pm. Looking forward to seeing your pretty face my love.
-Elvis P"
A large grin attacked Lolita's face as her feet swung from her chair. She looked around the classroom at all of the confused faces. She quickly turned a light shade of red before reading her book again.
She sat in her after school maths club that her mother signed her up for. She hated it since she was terrible at maths. She just stared at the white booklet before placing her pencil down and closing the booklet. She just daydreamed of Elvis until the club ended.
5.30pm
Lolita walked home from school along the pavement. Her skirt bounced up and down along her thighs as her hair swayed from side to side. She had a sheepish grin plastered on her pretty face at the thought of Elvis performing on the big stage. The thought of his figure prancing around on stage like a ghost. She jumped slightly at a large crashing sound that was followed by a long lighting bolt that stretched across the grey sky. Rain began to pour down on her like a water fall. It hit her soft skin like bullets, drowning her poor body. She let out an aggitated scream before running to find shelter. Her little legs moved as fast as they could. She ran into an alleyway as the cold rainwater showered her. Her black school shoes were drowning in puddles. She quickly stood under a small canopy that was above a random door that led to the unknown.
"UGH!"
She yelled as she looked down at her soaked body. Her eyes widened at the sight of her white top wich was now completely see through.
"Oh my god!"
She yelled as she stomped her foot on the damp porch. Her fists clenched as she grinded her white teeth.
Minutes passed, then hours, but she was still under that same canopy waiting for the rain to stop. She pulled her hand up to check her watch, which was also drenched.
"7.40!"
She screeched in suprise. She needed to get going, or she would be late. She looked into the distance of the angry storm. Without thinking, she began to sprint in the cold rain that drenched her. Her long wet hair stuck to her see-through white top as her wet skirt stuck to her soft thighs. Her feet felt numb and cold as a puddle of water broke into them. She ran until she saw a telephone box. She exelerated towards it, and she grasped the red telephone. She quickly dialled in her mothers number and awaited for her to pick up.
"Hello?"
"Momma, it's me. I won't be home for ages since I have to go to Elvis's show and I am soaked."
"Well you better get there quick before you drown."
Her mother said sarcastically with a chuckle. Lolita rolled her big eyes before speaking again.
"Ok, love ya."
She hung up the phone. Her eyes looked at the rainy distance before taking a deep breath. She ran into the rain. She didn't stop. She needed to get to that show. She looked like a ghostly schoolgirl who haunted the poisonous storms. She was a misty mistress in the empty wet street.
She arrived at the entrance of the stadium and checked her watch.
"9.10"
She read before a sad sigh escaped her mouth. Guilt filled her insides when she thought of Elvis. He really wanted her to come, and she showed up late, ridiculous. She did the walk of shame to the grand doors that held all of the magic on the other side. Big tall security men stood beside the gates of heaven.
"You're a bit late lil girl."
They teased before they laughed amongst themselves. Lolita just rolled her eyes before entering. She looked at the thousands of people who occupied the thousands of seats. She desperately searched for a free seat in the endless croud. The only free seat was all the way at the back, but it was better than nothing. She walked towards the seat, leaving a trail of water behind her. She sat beside a rather tall woman who looked at her with disapproval. Lolita's face turned pink as she looked down to the floor that was now wet. She could feel a pool of water form in her seat.
Her beady eyes watched Elvis dance and sing, but from her view, he just looked like a white dot that was moving. He was like a white comp sequin jumpsuit ghost that haunted the stadium with his alluring voice. His body jolted and thrusted. It was almost unearthly. The bright stage lights lit his lean figure up, so he looked like a white angel with an angelic voice. Women around Lolita cheered, screamed, cried, and even passed out. Lolita desperately moved her head from the hands that were flying in front of her.
She hadn't sat down for very long since she was late. The crowd applauded before standing up and gradually leaving.
Lolita stood up and ran towards the backstage area. She pushed past the eager girls and the elderly women who screamed her lover's name. She felt the guilt and shame grow inside of her as she got closer towards the door. Her hand landed on the metal handle. She stood there for a second and looked back at the thousands of women who were rushing behind her to get a glimpse of Elvis backstage. She quickly opened the door and slammed it shut before the sound of women's screams seeped through the door. She looked around the room with many staff members and members of the Memphis Mafia. She walked over to Jerry, who was talking to an unknown person. Her small finger tapped his shoulder. Her finger left a wet mark on his smart suit. His head turned to look down at her as his light brown feather hair moved. Her doll eyes looked up at him as she grabbed her elbow with one hand.
"Do you know where Elvis is?"
She asked innocently.
"Oh, I think he's in the changing room right over there."
He said as his long finger pointed towards a door with Elvis's name engraved into it. Lolita smiled slightly before walking towards the door. She slowly opened it to see Elvis changing into his normal clothes.
"Don't you have any fucking manners? what happened to nocking!?"
He yelled with his back faced to her. Her heart sank as she heard him raise his voice at her. A puddle of sadness formed inside of her as her cheeks flushed pink. Her hand moved down to the hem of her wet skirt that was making a puddle of rainwater beneath her.
"Sorry."
She said quietly as her now watery eyes looked down at the floor. Elvis's head instantly whipped around to look at his baby that stood in the doorway. His angry look softened when he saw her face. His black velvety dark void eyes unfolded into a core of softness and tenderness. He quickly pulled his pants up before rushing over to her and hugging her tightly. His musky fragrance radiated off his body as her vanilla peach scent travled through the air.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to shou-"
He stopped his sentence when he felt her dripping wet clothes sink into his. He pulled away from her and looked her up and down with his hawaii blue eyes.
"What happened? You're soaking."
He asked as a chuckle escaped from his lips.
"It was raining, that's why I was i late."
Lolita said, and she squeezed some water out of her shirt that was still see-through. She was a mess of gorgeous chaos.
"I better get ya a change of clothes. Don't want no perves looking at your t shirt."
He said as he looked at her visible pink bra. His large hand moved up to cup her chubby cheeks. He squeezed them like a toy as he giggled.
"Follow me."
He said as he grasped her cold damp hand. She was as cold as a corpse that was covered with dirt and bugs. She walked with him until they reached a wardrobe. The initials 'E.P.' were ingraved into the glazed oak wood. Elvis rummaged through the dozens of clothes that were stored there. He pulled out a pair of navy blue shorts and a black shirt. He handed them over to Lolita, who looked down at the items in her hands with horror in her eyes.
"Any girl clothes?"
She asked as she looked up to him.
"Well, I don't bring any girls here, so I don't have any girl clothes."
He said. Lolita looked at him with a mischievous grin.
"I find that hard to believe."
"The only girl I want is you, and you know that."
He said as he tucked a wet strand of her hair behind her ear. She smiled as her dimpled cheeks turned pink. Lolita placed the clothes on the cold floor before looking to Elvis. Elvis nodded before he began to unbutton her drenched school shirt. He looked down at her wet breasts that were unfortunately covered by a baby pink bra with white frills. He crouched down. His big veiny hands played with a button on her wet skirt before pulling it down. Trickles of rainwater travled down her sun-kissed thighs as he pulled the skirt off. He then lifted one of her legs up to pull her black shoe and the white sock from her leg before repeating to the other. He picked up the school uniform that was now drenching itself on the cold floor.
He stood up to look at her figure. Her perfectly moulded breasts that were just mature enough, and her collarbones were like twigs spread from the base of her throat to the ends of her shoulders. Her ribcage was trapping the dozens of colourful flowers and butterflies that found peace inside of her small perfect body. She looked soft like a Holy Flower. Her body looked as if it was carved out of the finest marble and studded with ballroom diamonds. In this state, cold, wet, and gloomy, she looked ethereal and almost ghostly. Her winter lips were carved out of stone as her hourglass waist looked like something out of a magazine. It looked as if the stars resided in her eyes, bright constilations graced her cheeks, and fairy dust was trapped in her feral hair that seeped over her shoulders. Her white dove panties that had pink lace attached to sertain areas, giving her corpse look a sort of innocence to it. Her thighs that were chubby and legs that were skinny made a spark arise in Elvis, who was admiring her ghostly body that looked as fragile as a dandelion.
Her kissable lips moved as bright stars spilt from them. Elvis was snapped out of his alternate universe with a click of Lolita's small fingers. Her charming eyes looked up into his dark blues.
"Hellooo."
She said as he waved her hand infront of his face.
"What?"
He asked as he looked at her mystical self.
"You were like frozen for a good thirty seconds. Are you feeling alright?"
She said as her small hand landed on the fragile satin fabric of his shirt.
"I'm ok. Now, you should get dressed."
He said as he ushered her to pick the mens clothes from the floor.
She stood behind the dresser curtain. She pulled the wet garments from her naked body that glistened in the orange lamp light. She slipped on the thin fabric shirt and the oversized shorts. Her hard nipples pocked through the fabric of the shirt. She squeezed the rainwater from her wet tangled locks. She pushed the curtain aside to walk over to Elvis, who sat on a bench, reading a book. His eyes shifted up to Lolita. She seemed more alive. Her dimpled cheeks and ruby-red lips lit up the atmosphere. She walked over to her drenched school bag that rested on the bench beside Elvis. Her small hands opened it before rummaging through the wet notebooks.
"Ugh, all of my school stuff of wet and ruined."
She said as her eyes lit up with angry tears. Elvis looked at her. He saw her tears forming as she continued to rummage through the bag.
"I'll buy ya some new things, baby."
He said in his southern drawl. Lolita's baby face lit up. Her pretty smile resembled the moon's crescent.
"Oh, thankyou Elvis!"
She said excitedly. Her voice, like that of a pricesses. Glowing red rose petals escaped from her mouth to let her angelic voice echoe.
She pulled out a small glass bottle that contained a pale pink liquid. She sprayed it on the clothes she wore. The perfume she had sprayed invaded Elvis's nostrils. It reminded him of a warm hawaiian breeze with freshly picked roses with a hint of vintage cherry cola. She walked over to Elvis, and she moved his book from his lap before filling the empty space with her fragile body. Elvis cradled her with his big arms. He played with her caramel blonde hair that had stars entwined in the spiralled curls. His hot chest warmed her cold body.
_______________________________________
They walked out of the backstage doors and into the pale moonlight. Elvis walked her over to a large black car with tinted windows. He opened the door to reveal the Memphis Mafia. Lolita waved shyly before Elvis closed the door.
"I'm guessing you want to sit in the front with me."
Elvis said with a childish grin plastered on his handsome face that was lit up by the moonlight. She shook her head before Elvis opened the passenger door for her to climb in.
______________________________________
They drove along the dim empty road. They passed the coble road and began to drive past bright city lights.
"This isn't the way to my home, Elvis."
She said with her furrowed brows.
"Oh, my home."
He said as his eyes looked at the road.
"But my momma, she doesn't know where I am."
"Don't worry, we can call your momma when we get to Graceland."
He said as he looked at little Lolita through his long black eyelashes. Lolita smiled slightly as she looked out of the tinted window. She stared at the bright city lights that flew by as she finally accepted the fact that she was in love with Elvis. She was in love with a man old enough to be her dad. She was in love with Priscilla's husband, Lisa's father...
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elvisabutler · 11 months
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I just wanted to start by saying I love your writing! I've read your BDE series, Dove series, and Queen of Graceland series, and I have had feelings I'm not sure I should enjoy while reading all three, even though I am almost 30. 😂🫣 Since your requests are currently open, I was wondering if you would ever be interested in writing something specifically for '60s-era movie Elvis? This is his husband era, and I love it so much. He is a clean, well-dressed, progressive man who is also a girl dad, and you know that he leaves the laundry in the hamper, makes the bed, and wears a tiara at his daughter's tea parties. 😂 If you have the time and inspiration, I would absolutely love your take on some domestic fluff with him, maybe taking care of a pregnant partner or helping set up a new baby's room? Thank you for being so awesome and sweet, and I hope you have a great weekend/week!
we plan a big family
summary: elvis doesn't always get time off to spend with you and his gaggle of children, but when he does he likes to make the most of it. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t. pairing: elvis presley x female reader ( nicknamed belle ) word count: 1888 warnings: pregnancy. babies. a bit of innuendo involving oral at the end. kids being kids. minorly gross eating. honestly y'all this is fluffy as all hell. 60s elvis. author’s note: anon!!! my darling, this was originally going to be an entirely different fic but i figured you liked queen of graceland and this slotted weirdly well into it that i went okay we're gonna write it as a queen of graceland verse thing. but you're speaking my language on 60s movie elvis. that is my man just as much as big daddy if not more. my ken doll looking butthead. i'm delighted you enjoy my fics and that they've made you feel things you don't know if you should enjoy lol. also- listen you should know the feelings my 31 year old has felt reading some stuff on here. lawd have mercy. for those of you who don't know this takes place in my queen of graceland verse and can be read as either austin elvis or elvis and happy father's day to those who celebrate and happy sunday to those who don't! also. i live to see the excitement/comments that come from this fic and any fic i write endlessly and will always soak them up like a sponge. i'm also open to requests from this verse.
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Elvis figures there's something about the fact that he grew up without a single living sibling that fueled this strange desire he had to have at least three children. Back with June and back with Anita he had known— he had pictured that little Elvis—the first little Elvis Presley running around with his siblings, laughing and having every bit of fun he's had to enjoy with cousins and neighborhood kids. He's always pictured his girl being a carbon copy of their mother except with his eyes that he can't resist when she pouts. Figures his wife would call him a pushover and that'd be that.
Then he met you and lord almighty and above, he can't help but figure the Lord gifted him the perfect woman to give him all of this. Sure, first set of kids had been conceived and born under less than ideal circumstances with everyone following practically one right after the other but he had made a joke one time when you were pregnant yet again after Jesse that you and him had always planned a big family and he'd be damned if the two of you didn't have it.
Hollywood finds it a little weird, and he knows this, knows that his costars find you to be an absolute delight when you bring the kids on set, a set of ducklings walking behind their waddling mother. Knows that his work schedule isn't always the best but he does try and make time for you and the kids. Truth be told any second he has a break it's spent with you and the kids. It aggravates the Colonel to no end but he remembers what it's like to not have his daddy around and he'd be damned if he did that to his kids.
"Mama!" His ears and mind register the shrill cries of his eldest daughters in the morning as he hears to groan beside him, attempting to move your head to burrow it into the pillow. The latest set of twins inside you had kept you up for far longer than was advised in your state and it showed in the bags under your eyes and the way you blink blearily at Elvis. After a moment you start to try and get out of bed, struggling to shift your weight before Elvis puts his arm across you and pulls you back closer to him.
"Oh no ya don't. I got'em lil mama," he murmurs against your neck earning a shiver from you before he pulls away. "You just rest here with those little hellions."
Your mouth opens in protest before you hear the squeak of the bed springs signaling that Elvis has already stood up. If he's up and it's a rare day off he has from filming or recording you can stay put. A relieved sigh leaves your lips as you sink back into the bed, your hand rubbing your stomach, willing the twins to stay asleep. Elvis leans over to give you a short peck of a kiss before brushing a bit of your hair out of your face.
"I'll tell the cook what to make for breakfast. Should manage a couple hours for ya. Rest up, Mama."
"'member, we gotta put the other crib up. Jus' in case they come early." A yawn overpowers the last few words you try to speak even as Elvis nods.
"That's an after lunch thing, darlin'. Relax and rest or I'll let 'em inside," Elvis threatens playfully as he walks to the door. The second he's outside, he's greeted by his eldest daughters tackling him in a hug.
"Swear y'all are gettin' stronger by the day. Damn near broke my back."
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Elvis isn't necessarily big on routines when it comes to his kids, something about him preferring to be the one who spoils the kids with everything he couldn't have as a child. It's why despite Elizabeth and Loretta being awake, three out of the other four are still asleep, with Rebecca occupying a comfy spot in her father's arms.
What he is big on his making sure they keep their rooms organized and clean for your sake. Loretta and Elizabeth look so much like you that he has to take a moment to not fall for the matching puppy dog looks they give him in an attempt to weasel out of making their bed. After all, hadn't those eyes of yours gotten the pair of you in trouble in the first place?
"Ya know the rules I got for ya. Ain't askin' much, just a made bed and your pjs in the basket. Wanna tell me ya ain't doin' this for ya mama when 'm on set?" Elvis asks, shifting Rebecca on his shoulder. "'Cause ya know the punishment for that."
"No!!! No Daddy. No, we do it. We promise! We just don't wanna— not right now," Elizabeth whines ever the more talkative one out of the two of them. "Can't we make tea first?"
Elvis eyes the table in their room that has not one, but two pillows on it before turning back to look Elizabeth dead in the eye. "And jus' where did ya plan on givin' it to me. Got pillows on the table. Can't make tea without a table, yittle."
Loretta looks up at her daddy and realizes far before Elizabeth that they have lost this battle and moves to grab her pillow from the table, "he's right, Lizzy. Come on— if we hurry we can have the party 'fore pancakes."
Those prove to be the magic words as in a flash Elvis finds himself dragged to a little tiny chair he barely fits in while his oldest daughters rush through getting new clothes on and their beds made— in some kind of way. Once they were done they sat right down in front of him and placed a tiara on his head. "Princess Daddy, would you like some tea?"
He grins and shifts their younger sister yet again as he grabs a cup. "Why yes Princesses Loretta and Elizabeth. I'd love some."
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The smell of bacon is what finally wakes you up, your body stretching as best as it can as you try and figure out just how far away the scent is before realizing it's in the same room as you. Your eyes blink slowly as they focus on your husband and your kids dressed and holding plates filled with food.
"What— What's this?" You ask with a yawn. "Shouldn't you be downstairs?"
Elvis laughs before setting Rebecca down next to you and motioning for the others to join her all while trying to not drop their plates. Without missing a beat you grab Anthony and Aaron's plates as the clamber up and only give them the plates back when they plop themselves down on the bed. "Maybe. But they wanted to eat wit' ya. So did I. Figured ya were still tired so we brought breakfast to ya."
"Ya gonna get crumbs ev'rywhere," you try and argue before Aaron takes that moment to shove a piece of his bacon in your mouth to silence you. "Guess I ain't gotta choice. Pass my plate, daddy."
At your playful tone he lets out another laugh and hands you plate as he climbs onto the bed, scooting in next to you. "Hope it's to ya likin', mama."
"Bacon could be a lil' softer, but it'll do fine." Your answer is clearly a joke as you shove the bacon in your mouth with a speed that startles Elvis. A question comes tumbling out of your mouth with a few bacon crumbs as you chew. "What time isit?"
"Ten AM. Didn't let ya sleep the whole day away," he murmurs with bacon in his own mouth. Watching as the gears turn inside your head as you look at your six children and raise an eyebrow. "Don't ya be sayin' it. They got clothes on. All the pjs are in the hampers. Beds look kinda made, but we ain't running an army base in this house."
A snort leaves your mouth before you have a chance to stop it. "Kinda made, huh? Guess that's the best I can ask for wit' daddy not helpin' the yittle hands."
Your youngest daughter pats Elvis's arm almost in a bit of a slapping motion and you have to bite your lip to try and not giggle even as he picks her up and scrunches up his face. "Now what's yittle Becky Wecky doin' hittin' daddy? Hm? Punishin' me for mama? Gonna make me hope one of yer new siblin' is a girl I can have on m''side. Yittle traitor."
Her answer to him is a simple raspberry filled with spit in his face and you finally start to lose it, accidentally spraying bacon crumbs on the bed and in one of your children's hair.
"Ew!!! Mama!"
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It's another two hours before you manage to get out of bed and the children are off running amuck in the house as you sneak into the nursery. It's Rebecca's room for right now, but when the twins arrive she's going to be in her own room with her older sisters. You're pretty sure these are going to be your last children, if only because if you have many more you're not sure even Elvis's income can take care of them. The thoughts swirl around in your head and distract you to the point where you don't realize Elvis is behind you until you feel his arms wrap around you and feel his chin on your shoulder.
"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yourn?" The question's simple enough but you hum and wave your hand in a sign for him to ignore it.
"Nothin', Elvis. Jus' thinkin' you said this was an after lunch plan— you putting the other crib in here. Figure I can make it an after breakfast one.
Against your shoulder you feel the muscle in his jaw tense before feeling his exhale against your neck. "Drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Presley. What's in it for me? Do I get a reward for doin' it early?"
You turn to face him and shrug, "your wife's love and appreciation. What more could you want?"
You're quite certain Elvis can see the mirth in your eyes and the way you lift up your eyebrows in what you imagine is a questioning and yet innocent look. Thankfully that same mirth is reflected back at you with a trace hint of arousal as he looks you up and down.
"A bit of dessert 'fore my lunch. I'm a grown man, darlin'. I oughta eat so I keep these handles ya like so much," he whispers, leaning in a little closer and lifting your chin up to look directly in your eyes. "I drag it in here, we head to the bedroom when everyone's nappin'?"
"And you get t'eat the sweetest thing this side of the Mississippi, Mr. Presley?" The joke falls from your lips without a second thought as Elvis starts to laugh a full bellied laugh, tears erupting from his eyes the more he laughs.
"Like ya read my damn mind, Mrs. Presley. We gotta a deal? Can we shake on it?"
"Only if ya get that ice cream I like afterward."
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, @stylespresleyhearted y'all know the drill with the taglist by now.
132 notes · View notes
flwersgarden · 2 years
Note
priscilla’s bsf + yandere elvis
note: i did this kind of fluffy and not so angsty, like the reader is a lil bit oblivious in this because i just need yandere elvis to love me rn - but! if you want an angsty ending, pls let me know! enjoy <3
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there was this thing about elvis presley that drew you to him.
not just his good looks nor his fame.
it was the way he could charm you into anything.
you met elvis when priscilla introduced you to him. priscilla, your long time friend, wanted you to get along with him as she told you:
“ i want my best friend and my soon to be husband to get along! ” she said with a confident smile on her face.
you giggled, nodding your head. “ okay, 'cilla. ” she always got what she wanted though.
“ but remember to be quite careful when meeting him. he is shy and sometimes he gets quiet all of a sudden, don't try to force him to talk or anything like that. just be patient. ”
“ gotcha. ”
but for some reason, when elvis shook your hand and smiled at you, you couldn't see the shyness that priscilla told you about.
you saw a fire in his eye when he saw you, a love tone in his voice as he spoke to you, a gentle touch whenever he touched your lower back to show you Graceland. you were convinced this was how he treated everyone in his friend circle, probably he was very loving?
priscilla also noticed this but she convinced herself it was because you were her best friend and her choice of bridesmaid so elvis needed to be liked.
elvis knew both of you were wrong. but, he benefited from the doubt you and priscilla had.
he was convinced priscilla was the one.
when he met her in germany he was sure that she was the girl of her dreams. she was happy with her too, loving every single moment of the relationship. he was so convinced that he bought a ring for her.
but you came to save him from his fall of grace.
you, with your shiny eyes and glorious smile, beautiful you who came to visit. but you actually came to rescue him.
so why can't he return the favor?
he could see you were this small thing that could be broken by anyone who dared to do it, so fragile that even a wrong touch of his hand could destroy you. thank god he knew how to read you, if not you could've been broken.
the mere thought makes elvis cry.
he needs to be your protector.
️️ ️️️️️️️️️
a knock on your door distracted you from your hobby, standing up before opening it. shocked that the man of the world is standing right in front of you.
“ mr. presley? ”
elvis smiled. “ it's elvis, dear. ” he looked behind you. “ may i come in? ”
“ uhm, sure! ” you smiled a bit, making yourself to a side so he could enter your small home
elvis looked around your house, smiling as he noticed how everything in it described you to perfection.
you, on the other side, were scared.
did you made a bad impression? did he hated you? did he came here to tell you priscilla doesn't want to be your friend anymore? that you're no longer the bridesmaid?
a few tears appeared in your eyes as you asked. “ m-mr. pr-esley? ”
elvis, without turning, interrupted you. “ elvis, doll, i know you can do it. ”
he wasn't saying it as mocking you but as reassurance.
“ el-elvis. ”
he turned. “ good girl. ” the smile he had fell at the sight of your glossy eyes, making his way to yours with his hands on your cheek. “ oh, baby, what's wrong? did i said something wrong? forgive me, i swear that wasn't my intention, doll, you know me. ” he continued to say as you just shook your head, clearly missing how delusional he sounded at the end.
“ n-o, it's not that, mr- elvis! ” you took a step back, the closed space made you feel weird.
elvis instead grabbed your arms, caressing them while looking at you.
“ i just got worried- is this a bad visit? did you came here to tell me some bad news? ”
elvis chuckled. “ no, doll. ”
he wanted to hit himself, of course you would think that, he should've hugged you on the first place, he should've brought a nice present — this is the first time he's invited to your house, he should've known.
“ it's my fault, i should've been more careful. ” he soothed you, cooing whenever he could see new tears forming in your eyes. “ what i came here to say is that i want you to move to Graceland. ”
you looked at him, confusion in your eyes. elvis could feel his breath taken away by how beautiful your eyes are.
“ huh? ” was the only thing you could muster making elvis laugh.
“ is that a good huh? or a bad one? ”
“ it's just-... i don't know what to say. ”
this was such a quick thing to do. you just met him and he is inviting you to live with him?
i mean, you've lived with priscilla for a bit in your life. when she got in trouble with her folks and you had to be with her in this type of country house she had. but that was a long time ago! and it was just you and her, now if you move with them, it would be elvis and her.
“ well, w-what does 'cilla think? ” you asked, looking at the ground with confusion still written in your face.
elvis' face hardened. “ don't worry about her. i invited you. ”
his harsh tone made you look up. “ but she is-. ”
“ don't. worry about her. ”
a warning tone was in the first word, making you take a step back. elvis noticed it, he was scaring you.
“ doll... ” he sighed. “ you don't want to disappoint me, do you? ” with pleading eyes, he came closer, you, in your trance, just stood in the same place. “ i mean, priscilla wants you in her life but i don't know if i will allow her that if you disappoint me. ”
you looked at the ground, his words hitting you straight where he wanted.
“ but-. ”
“ darling. look at me. ”
you did as he told you, his hands in your cheek again as yours held your arms.
“ i want you in my life as well. ” he tilted his head, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “ because i know that you're a good girl. ”
he kissed your nose. the small act of affection made you weak in your knees. it reminded you of the affection you father would give you after keeping his affair on secret.
“ my good girl. ” he whispered, looking at you.
you smiled. “ okay. ”
elvis smiled too.
️️ ️️️️️️️️️
when you arrived to Graceland, a few weeks later, priscilla welcomed you with open arms.
“ oh my gosh, look at you! ” she smiled as she hugged you, you giggling.
“ hi, cilla. ” you kissed her cheek before letting her go.
a hard hand turned you to look at elvis, who was standing behind you.
“ hi, doll. ”
you smiled, hugging him.
after that encounter with elvis, you promised to never doubt his intentions. he seemed like such a nice gentleman, helping you and priscilla and always being there for the both of you.
priscilla would sometimes joke about you being his little sister the first day you got there.
“ he loves you so much, boo. ” priscilla said with the nickname he gave you (because you were someone so easy to scare).
“ i'm glad because i also love him. he makes you happy and that's enough for me. ” you smiled, kissing her head before the both of you started laughing.
you loved the time you and priscilla had now that you lived with her.
but you could sometimes see her facade dissappear.
like when she was a bit drunk and sat with you on the fireplace. in those nights she would rant to you about everything. but this particular night, she was more drunk than any other time.
priscilla sat in the living room with you, you in the big couch reading a book elvis gifted you for your birthday while she sat in the chair next to it.
“ i didn't wanted you here. ”
that makes your attention go to her immediately, your head snapping to her side.
“ what? ” you ask in a whisper.
“ i didn't wanted you to be here. ” she gave a pause after every word. so you could understand. “ i don’t want you here. ”
you just stayed quiet. the fireplace wood cracking was a background sound you would grow to resent.
“ he was so... so annoying when i told him i wanted Graceland to be for me and him only. but no, no, no. ” she moved her finger before pointing at you. “ cute y/n had to live here too. ”
“ cilla, wha-. ”
“ don't call me that. ”
you gulped, the book in your lap feeling heavier.
“ you don't get to call me that after stealing him from me. ”
you shook your head. “ what are you talking about? ”
“ him! elvis! ”
she started to sob at the mention of his name, her beautiful hair now messy as her makeup ran on her cheeks. tainting what was once a pretty face.
“ you said you would support me, you would be there for me. that you wouldn't get in my way. ”
“ i don't understand. ”
priscilla scoffed. “ of course you don't, you dumb girl. ” she turned to the fireplace. “ of course you don't. ”
you looked at your book, your fingers playing with the paper. you felt so confused, hurt and sad. what did you do? you couldn't remember a single moment where you and elvis did something that could make priscilla think that.
“ that's why he loves you. ”
you closed your eyes, shaking your head.
“ because you don't know anything. because you're fucking stupid. ”
you stood up, throwing your book to the floor before walking out and going up to your room.
priscilla just sighed before looking at the book. her jaw clenched.
for my little girl. — EP.
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you woke up to the sound of screaming.
“ you wanna leave?! ”
steps passing through your room.
“ i said what i said. ”
a gasp. then the steps stopped.
“ you fuck everything up, priscilla, you know that? everything. ”
“ fuck you. ”
a slap.
“ fuck you, you and your stupid fucking whores! ”
the steps began again, you sat in your bed as you put on a coat; not wanting to go out in just your nightwear.
“ priscilla, this is ridiculous! ”
“ and you also stole my best friend. ”
that made you stop all your movements. the movements outside also stopped.
“ you're delusional. ”
“ no! YOU ARE! ”
silence.
“ why couldn't you just love me? i love you so much it hurts to see you preferring her over me. ”
“ it's not my fault you weren't meant to be mine. you were just a way for me to find her. ”
you take a step back from your door. surprised at the cruelty in elvis' words.
“ fuck you. ” priscilla says with such a sad tone you could feel yourself tearing up.
a door gets slammed, you almost falling from the impact.
a sigh, steps and a door closed.
you, with an open coat, sit on the bed.
️️ ️️️️️️️️️
after that, elvis leaves, not bothering to knock on your door, just leaving a note underneath it and leaving. when you hear the main door close, you quickly get up and grab the note.
doll, i'm going to the colonel's office for some business stuff.
please, do not hesitate to call if you need anything.
priscilla had to leave to see her family, don't worry about it.
love you.
and then his signature.
you laugh with no humor in it, the bluntness of his lie even written in paper amazed you.
tears forming in your eyes as you look at the third sentence of the letter.
why is he lying to you? did he actually went to search for her? to bring her back?
all those questions in your mind makes you race from your room to the bathroom, emptying your stomach in the toilet with tears sliding down your cheeks, your anxiety making you sweat.
️️ ️️️️️️️️️
after throwing up and cleaning it, you find yourself packing your things, the night before and this morning made you reconsider every single thing you did wrong.
elvis just wanted to befriend you. and now because of you he lost priscilla.
you were so absorbed in your own thoughts you didn't hear elvis entering the house nor him walking up the stairs.
“ doll? ”
you scream before turning around, a hand in your chest while the other one held your suitcase.
“ elvis. ” you gasp his name.
he doesn't pay attention to that, his eyes fixed in your suitcase.
“ what are ya doing, doll? ”
you look at the suitcase for a few seconds before looking at him once again. sadness invading your heart once again.
“ i-... i want to evade this argument. i understand you don't want me here. ” elvis raises his eyebrows. “ it's because of me you lost the love of your life... it's because of me that priscilla left. ”
“ doll. ”
“ she told me how much you appreciated me and i took it for granted, i could've done more for your relationship with my friend as a form of gratitude but i was just so comfortable here, i stopped thinking about her happiness- and yours, of course, and i feel so guilty because now you weren't going to marry her-. ”
“ y/n. ”
that made you stop, your bottom lip trembling.
“ i'm sorry. ”
“ don't be. ”
he walked to you, grabbing your hands in his. your attention in his electrifying blue eyes.
“ you can't leave me. ”
you just frowned, confused.
elvis was quick to speak again. “ don't leave me alone. ”
your heart broke.
“ you don't want me to be here all alone, right? i mean. ” he grabbed your cheeks. “ priscilla left me... am i going to lose you too? ”
“ no, no! ” you sobbed, your hands in his chest. “ no, you won't lose me! God. ” you whisper the last name, sobbing harshly. “ i'm so sorry, elvis, i swear i didn't meant to ruin your happiness-. ”
elvis cooed at you, kissing your nose as he hugged you. “ i know, doll, i know. you wouldn't do that to me because you're my good girl. ”
you hugged him tighter, sobbing in his chest like little you holding his father when he had to leave after your mother found out about his affairs.
“ forgive me, please, i'm so sorry! ”
elvis shushed you, kissing your head before breaking the hug.
“ i forgive you if you make it up to me. ”
you immediately nodded.
priscilla hated you already, you were sure of it, you didn't want elvis to feel the same.
“ you can be with me. stay with me. ” he kissed your forehead, then your nose and then your cheek, whispering to your ear. “ because you don't want me to be alone. ”
you shook your head, hugging him with your arms around his neck. “ i won't, i promise, i will help you, i will always be here for you. ” you repeated the same things your father said when he walked out the door with your mother holding you back from running to him.
elvis smiled, hugging you with his arms around your waist.
“ then i forgive you, baby. ”
you sighed in relief.
“ i love you. say it back. ”
“ i love you. ”
️️ ️️️️️️️️️
years passed and now you find yourself with elvis performing on the international while you sit next to jerry in the audience, wearing a beautiful dress that matched elvis' white suit.
“ we have some special guests today, folks. ” elvis says into the mic.
you clap along the audience before smiling.
“ first, the most important of 'em all. my beautiful girl, my wife. ” he opened his hand and held it to your direction. “ y/n presley. ”
you felt yourself grow shy as the audience clapped and whistled, waving to some of them as if you were royalty — which you kind of were, being the wife of the king of rock 'n roll —, giggling when elvis winked at you.
as the performance came to an end, you almost ran backstage, squealing when you found elvis.
“ doll! ” he exclaimed with joy in his eyes, opening his arms and running to you.
you opened your arms as well, laughing when he lifted you up, kissing you with so much passion you felt like passing out.
“ how was i? ” he asked after breaking the kiss, with his lips still close to yours, looking at your adorable flushed face.
“ amazing. wonderful. ”
“ good. ” he kissed you again.
and you wouldn't want it either way.
even ignoring the hard gaze of the colonel a few steps behind you and the concerned face of some of elvis' friend.
after all, elvis will protect you from anyone and anything. except himself.
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memphis-mafia-mama · 2 years
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Alright if we're gonna talk about it, let's talk about it.
Austin worked his ass off. That's really the crux of the issue.
If Sophia Coppola was so disturbed by the lack of salacious detail in the Elvis film (which is an educated guess based on her other works, notably the Bling Ring and The Virgjn Suicides) then speaking to Priscilla personally about it would have been the thing to do. She may have done that. But it seems very unlikely that Priscilla would have agreed to run over the triumph of the film she loved so much, about the man she loves even more, with a film based on a book she wrote when she was in a completely different place. She loves him still. She was angry. She's not so much, anymore. And, the most important detail in this news cycle, she LOVES Austin.
The two options we are left with in that case, are these;
1. Priscilla, and possibly Lisa, are not the people the world has known them to be for decades.
2. Sophia Coppola did not ask permission, get consultation, speak with anyone from the family, or do any of the things needed to be done to make this process respectful for the Presley family, Baz Luhrman, or Austin Butler.
Although the irony is obvious to everyone, let's steer the conversation away from the dating life of Kaia Gerber. If not for her sake, then for the sake of Austin, who hates paparazzi and enjoys being as private as possible, let's leave that side out of it. Do him the credit to know that this would be weird news for him no matter who was cast to play Elvis Presley. The truth of this matter is far more insidious than who's ex did what to whom and made this or that movie and why. A film maker took liberties with the life of a living person, who already loved the portrayal offered of her husband. Coppola then decided she knew better.
The less said about the timing of this, the better. The announcement comes before Oscar nominations are announced, one of which will surely go to Austin for his incredible work. This might change the nominations; the academy may hold out and nominate a Coppola film instead. It's not impossible.
The announcement comes the day after the anniversary of the loss of Lori Butler. Without infantalizing a grown man, it is not a stretch to imagine that this is a blow to the actor who's love for his mother bonded him to Elvis and perfected his audition tape.
Maybe Austin doesn't care about all of this.
I think he does, but we shouldn't assume.
If he doesn't care, that's okay. We do. We love this movie. We love Elvis, or at the very least we love Austin portraying him, and we don't want the legacy of this film to be disrupted or harmed.
If you're a longtime Austin fan, the concern might be his first really big acting role wherein he got to show what he could do might not be all it might have been without this direct competitor. It's no longer, "who made the better movie, though our films are about different things?"
Setting aside the fact that Baz Luhrmann also deserves recognition for this masterpiece and Sophia Coppola could take away from that too, this part is relatively simple, at least for me.
The question has become, "Who is the better Elvis?"
My answer, besides Elvis himself, is Austin. No matter who will play him in however many movies over the course of my lifetime, my answer is Austin. I know many of you feel the same. I hope the next few months, and award season, reflects that we are right.
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mooodyblue · 4 months
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hiiii sorry if this is silly and too specific but if you didnt do this already can you write (short fic or headcanons it dont matter) elvis comforting his little after a nightmare ?? idk if you did this already but i've wanted to see sumthin like this since i found out about cg!elvis presley and stuffs heehee.. buuut umm if you do could you maybe use he/they pronouns or possibly bun/bunself neopronouns ?? no pressure.. also reader has a small southern twang kinda like elvis but it's less prominent.. less "howdy pardner"(vocabulary) more "well, that's somethin' " (accent) if you know what i mean (?).. sorry if this is too weird !! btw i loooovve your blog i read your blog all the time and read everyone i love it so much <3 please reply but no pressure !! /pos
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a/n: i tried my hardest to be as specific as possible so i'm sorry if it didn't come out like you wanted D: thank you for the request!
pairing: 70s!elvis x little!reader(used he/they/bun pronouns)
wc: 752
-> masterlist
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2 am. for some reason, elvis was still awake. it wasn't much of a surprise, he’d stay up all night and sleep all day throughout most of the week. he put you down for bed just a few hours ago, reading you a book and tucking you in per usual. last he checked, you were still snug in bed with your plushie tucked in between your arms.
he was deep in one of his books down in the living room, the lights off aside from the lamp beside him and a few nightlights he set up around graceland just for you. mary was the last to leave, wandering over to the front door and smiling over at elvis, “good night, elvis.” she said sweetly.
“night, mary. y/n still sleepin’?” he asked.
“mhm, he’s sound asleep.” she nodded.
elvis grinned, “good, good. have a good night. thank you.”
but then 2 am turned to 3 am, and he still couldn’t sleep. still buried in his book, he heard small footsteps nearing—causing him to sit up quickly, his brain not registering that it was probably you and not an intruder. “oh.” he let out a relieved sigh seeing it was just you, “it’s 3 am, baby, whatchu doin’ awake, huh?”
“can’t sleep, daddy.” you mumbled. “scary dream.”
elvis gasped, setting his book aside. “well, we can’t have that, can we? c’mere.” he opened his arms wide and allowed you to sit on his lap. he lifted you a bit to get more comfortable, pressing his lips at the top of your head. “wanna tell me what happened?”
you looked at him sadly, “a big mean man came 'n took me away from you 'n said you didn't love me." you sniffled, "i wasn't allowed t' see you ever again 'n you didn't bother lookin' for me either..."
he tsk'd, shaking his head. "oh, you poor, poor thing." his hand rubbed up and down your back gently, "y'know that ain't true, right? i do love ya."
you furrowed your brows, "you do?"
"of course!" he tapped your nose with the tip of his finger, earning a soft giggle in response. "i ain't gonna let a big, mean man come and take somethin' so precious from me."
the way you covered your face with your hands out of embarrassment made his heart swoon, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he took ahold of your hands. "and lemme tell you somethin'—i know a big, mean man. if he ever tries to take ya away with me, y'know what i'm gonna tell him? hm?" he asked, tickling at your sides.
you let out a squeal, "what?" you asked, trying to escape from his home.
"i'm gonna tell him–"you ain't takin' them away from me. nuh uh. either bun stays with me, or you're gettin' kicked to the curb." i ain't workin' with nobody who disrespects you or tries to take you away from me. i can promise you that, honey." with a warm smile, he pressed his lips against the top of your forehead, holding you close as his way of protecting you.
"you sure, daddy?"
"ain't no way am i letting anybody come and sweep you away from me. i promise." he nodded. "it was just a bad dream. nothin' more."
you snuggled into his shoulder, your arms wrapped around him as you let out a soft yawn. he let out a soft hum, rubbing your back again. "you wanna go back to bed?" he asked, a soft mhm escaping your lips as a response. "alright, kiddo. i'll let ya sleep in my bed tonight."
he carried you up the steps and to his bedroom, laying you carefully onto his large mattress and pulling the covers over you. he tucked you in securely, kissing your cheek and turning out the light before going to make his way out of his bedroom.
"wait—"
elvis turned to look at you, "y-you not comin' to bed either?" you asked softly.
"oh." he scratched the side of his head, looking around unsurely. he was tired, but he knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep. "i guess i can." he smiled and got under the covers with you, letting you rest your head on his chest as you snuggled into his side.
you tilted your head up to look at him, "can you read to me?"
his lips turned up slightly, picking up a book he had on his nightstand. "i thought you'd never ask."
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