#70s!cg!elvis

[earthbaby-angelboy]

pinky promises | little!reader x 70s!cg!elvis (wc: 1,435) - A/N: I know, it's been forever, but I didn't want to leave you guys high and dry. so, enjoy a sweet fic about E and his baby who absolutely does not want to sleep. btw this is defo not proofread so sorry in advance! <3

It was 11:30 at night, and you knew damn well that you should've been sleeping some odd couple of hours ago. But lo and behold, your insomnia just wouldn't let you. The bigger problem wasn't necessarily that you couldn't sleep, it was that you had gotten into the habit of refusing to let yourself sleep.

Tonight was one of the nights where your brain just wouldn't stop going. All the lights in your room were on, there was a record spinning, and you were doodling random things on a spare piece of paper. You couldn't stop thinking of all the things going on in your personal life, with the main thought being that you weren't doing enough for the people around you. You were well aware that not sleeping wouldn't help the crappy emotions bubbling up, but at the same time, you felt like you didn't deserve to rest. As you laid on your bed and doodled mindless shapes, you couldn't help but wonder: "why does he keep me around?"

You'd lived with Elvis for a long while now, and it was a far cry from the life you came from. You grew up doing everything and then some. And now, you had people doing it all for you; there was always the maids running around the house, completing the housework and tasks that needed to be done. There was Mary, who was always cooking whatever you or E would request. And of course, there was the Mafia, who were always scrambling to complete whatever task their boss had requested of them. This left you with lots of free time. Most of it was spent with Elvis, galavanting on whatever adventure he had thought up, but quite a bit of it was spent in your own head. You felt guilty, like you were mooching off of the man you loved so dearly. Between those thoughts and the busyness of your life, you had pushed your regression to the back-burner of your brain; you already felt guilty that Elvis had to support yet another person in his life, nevermind a little with lots of emotionally demanding needs. No, you couldn't do that to him, but a small part of you knew it was (almost) inhumane to be doing this to yourself.

Your regression was something incredibly dear to you, and your boyfriend understood this fact very well. The last time you had genuinely regressed was months ago, and you denying yourself your biggest coping skill was killing you internally. Elvis had tried mentioning the subject once or twice, but was quickly shut down by you. You couldn't bear talking about it, knowing that it wouldn't get you any closer to being comforted. Tonight was one of those nights where your brain was screaming, pleading for you to help yourself and just give in. If not to regressing, then to sleep. But no, you were stubborn, you needed to stay awake.

Deciding that you were bored of doodling, you hopped off your bed. You stood up for a minute and swayed where you were standing, confident that you were okay to walk. Your vision began to blur and you could see stars, but you were determined to keep yourself up. Just as you went to take a step, your legs gave out from beneath you. You yelped the second your body hit the floor, more from shock than from pain. As soon as Elvis heard the thump from downstairs, he ran as quickly as he could from the table where all the guys were gathered, up to your bedroom. Halfway up the stairs, he had to take a pause and catch his breath. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he shook the discomfort away and kept on going towards your room. Swinging the door open, his eyes darted around the room before landing on you, sprawled out on the floor, panting. As you locked eyes with him, he spoke, "nungen, what're you doin' on the floor?"

You looked around, as if trying to figure out where you were. "I…I don't really know. One minute I was fine, but just as I went to get up, my vision went all fuzzy. Now I'm here." You gestured around you with a dry laugh.

Elvis looked around your room; seeing the record spinning and realizing that your lights were on, he asked the obvious.

"You keepin' yourself up again?" Your eyes dropped to the floor, and a small sense of shame filled you as he caught you in the act.

"Elvis, I've told you. It's never enough."

He knew you'd been struggling recently, both with your sleeping patterns and your mental health. You had become increasingly more agitated with him, refusing to let anyone help you with even the most mundane tasks. You had pushed him away, both physically and emotionally. He had an inkling why, and although it hurt, he wasn't going to steer you into even more discomfort.

Disagreeing with your sentiment, he shook his head as he moved to help you stand. Putting his hands beneath your arms and lifting you up, you got a pang of comfort in your chest. For just a moment, you felt like his baby, the little girl you would always be to him. But as if it was planned, the feeling dissipated and was replaced with that same shame you had felt just moments ago. Once you got your footing, you craned your head up to look at your caregiver.

His hair was tousled, his eyes were soft, and his features held something that could only be described as an air of concern. As your eyes scanned his face, you hoped for something that would break the silence hanging heavy in the air. Elvis, who could read you like a book, pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. And softly, as if not to spook you, asked, "what's goin' on inside that yittle head of yours?"

And that was all it took for the floodgates of your brain to break as you fully regressed within a matter of seconds. Your eyes watered, and before you had the chance to respond to his question, your daddy was pulling you into his arms.

"Daddy," you cried into his chest. "Been needin' daddy, but couldn' ask," you sobbed.

With how you were feeling, this was about all that you could manage to say. But to Elvis, that was all it took for him to make sense of it. You had needed to regress, but didn't want to "burden" him, simple as that. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, and placed his chin on top of your head.

So this is what was getting you so worked up.

"Oh, my sweet girl," he whispered. He couldn't help but tear up as the realization hit him: you thought of yourself as a burden upon him. How could you, the little ray of sunshine that broke through all of the crass darkness in his life, be a burden? "My beautiful baby, how could lil' old you ever be a burden on daddy? You know that ain't true." His voice cracked slightly on the last sentence, making you cry harder.

As much as you believed Elvis' words, you couldn't help but feel a haunting sense of overwhelm; at the love you were receiving or the sudden release of emotions, you couldn't decipher, but it was an amalgamation of feelings that had been longing to escape your little heart.

"C'mon," he spoke, "look at me." He gently pulled away from the hug, and put his hand beneath your chin so as to direct your attention towards him. Seeing the look on your face broke his heart.

"Honey, you don't need to worry about doin' nothin' in this house. You're just a dolly, and dollies don't need to be worryin' about doin' chores or nothin' of the sort. You bein' your cute itty-bitty lil' self is all I need. Can you do that?" He finished off with a small smile. You sniffled, and nodded aimlessly as you went right back in for another hug.

"M' sorry daddy. Buntyn's feelin' real pitiful tonight," you mumbled into his chest. He stroked your hair as he adjusted his arms around you. "I know, yittle. C'mon. We're gon' have Mary fix you some angel milk, and then we'll get all cozy. How's that sound?" You peered up at him. "Satnin gon' cuddle wit' me?" You asked innocently. He gave a small laugh, and placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Satnin will always cuddle wit' his baby. I pinky promise."

[wanderingelvis]

Omggg cg!Elvis x littleF!reader who’s sick and keeps slipping into littlespace cuz of how sick she is so he takes care of her despite the possibility of him getting sick? 🥺

Thank you so much for the request!! I hope you like it <3

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Word count: 2,135

Pairing: Early 70's CG!Elvis x Little F!Reader

Oh Lord, you were trying so hard, so so hard to be a big girl.

You knew that Elvis had so much on his schedule, the Colonel was working him and you too by default. You'd been on the road with Elvis, helping out where you could like the good little girlfriend you were, but it had become all a bit too much and you had caught some sort of bug that was making you feel all kinds of miserable.

And when you were ill, well, that was the most sure fire way for you to slip into little space. You just weren't very good at being independent and coping with the overwhelming and horrible feelings you were having.

But you were trying, you really, really were. You didn't want to interfere with the schedule, Elvis had a lot on his mind and you'd be damned to cross paths with the Colonel when there was so much money to be made. Even when you were feeling your best, you still didn't like to even be in the same room as the Colonel.

All morning you'd felt achey, sore and tingly all over with a fever creeping in. Naturally, you'd been quieter than usual, trying to stop yourself from slipping but it was becoming inevitable.

Your body just wasn't strong enough and you felt exhausted and vulnerable as you sat in Elvis' dressing room as he did a run-through of his show tonight.

You'd found a spare blanket and you were curled up in the corner of the large couch as members of staff and the Memphis Mafia alike walked past you, a few giving concerned looks your way, in particular, Red, who watched as you rested your head on your arms and closed your eyes.

See, being in the state that you were in meant that you had absolutely no concept of time and when you were woken from the light slumber you were in, you had no idea how long you'd been asleep for.

"Baby?" That familiar deep, Southern voice hushed, laced with concern as your eyes sleepily opened, staring up at Elvis who was studying your state with worry on his face after Red had told him that you seemed unusually low today.

You blinked adorably up at him and if you weren't so apparently sick, Elvis would do the most unspeakable things to you.

Elvis sighed, realising how wiped and sick you were as he put the back of his coarse hand on your forehead to check your temperature, which was far too high for his liking.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak, you felt all achey and sore and your head was just so fuzzy that you were pretty much ready to let tears spill down your cheeks.

And Elvis could tell. He'd been with you for long enough now to know your little space 'tells'. You'd go non-verbal, your eyes would get all big and round and glossy, because even after all this time, you still got nervous about being little in front of Elvis - a fact that Elvis actually thought was very sweet and endearing. You'd start chewing on something too, whether it was your toy stuffy, your lip or your fingers, you'd chew on something as you tried to get all your thoughts in order. And there you were, chewing on your lip as you trembled from the fever.

"Oh little one, you ain't feelin' too good huh?" Elvis cooed, to which you shook your head ever so slightly. "Oh baby. Need me to look after you, princess?" Elvis asked as you pushed yourself up feebly, the blanket pooling by your waist as you nodded and rubbed your eyes sweetly.

Effortlessly, Elvis scooped you up in his big, strong arms and your head automatically went to rest on his shoulder as you began to chew on your fingers anxiously, wanting this horrible feeling to go away.

"Y/N is comin' down with somethin' nasty, I'm gon' take care of her, let everyone know they can go home, I ain't leavin' her today." Elvis said to Jerry before he carried you to his private elevator that took him right to the suite that the two of you shared at the top of the International.

As soon as the doors closed, Elvis began to rock you gently. "Gon' get you undressed baby, take off all yer clothes and get you in the tub, give you some medicine that's gon' make you feel all good n'better then we're gon' get you into bed to rest n' take it easy. How does that sound pretty girl?" Elvis soothed.

You nodded into his shoulder, feeling vulnerable and weak as he held you tightly, you couldn't help but let out a couple of sniffles too.

"Little one, d'ya think you can use your words f'me?" Elvis said. He knew you'd go non-verbal whenever you were feeling overwhelmed and little, and usually he wouldn't push you, but when you were feeling little and sick, he needed to know that you could still understand what he was saying and there wasn't anything more serious that was underlying.

"J-Just, don't feel good Daddy." You whimpered and oh if Elvis' heart hadn't broken in two when he first saw you on that couch, it certainly had now.

The name that you'd just called him was definitive confirmation that you were deep in little space and you needed to be treated as delicately as possible.

"I know baby, I know you don't, Daddy's gon' take care of you." Elvis promised, kissing the top of your head as you got out of the elevator into the suite.

Elvis wasted no time in taking you straight to the bathroom, sitting you atop the bathroom the counter as he rolled up the sleeves on his blue silk shirt, one that you'd actually picked out for him because you thought he would look "extra pretty" in it and began to run the bathtub full of warm water for you. He then went through the bathroom cabinet, through the one that held all of the medicines you may need for any particular reason, before he found the right one for your fever and chills.

"Now, you gotta be a brave girl f'me, I know this don't taste too good baby, but it's gon' help make you better, 'kay?" Elvis said as he poured the medicine onto a spoon, ready to feed you as you watched on, grimacing a bit, you hated having to take medicine.

"I don't wanna..." You practically whispered.

"Darlin', I know it ain't nice, but you gotta take it like a good girl, can you do that fr'me?" Elvis said, his tone becoming a little sterner than before, you taking your medicine is not something he was going to compromise on.

You nodded but not without small tears forming, making Elvis feel quietly guilty, he wished that it was him that was sick, he'd give anything to swap places with you. It really did pain him to see you in this state.

"Okay, open them pretty lips fr'me angel, just like that, good." Elvis encouraged as he fed you the spoon with the medicine.

He used his pointer finger on his other hand to poke just under your jaw ever so slightly to close your mouth around the spoon. "Good." He hissed, nodding in approval at how good you were being.

Slowly, he took the spoon out of your mouth as he studied your face, your eyes staring up at him as your nose scrunched up at the sour tasting medicine.

"Baby, that medicine ain't gon' do a damn thing stuck in your mouth like that." Elvis half-heartedly chuckled, knowing you were being a little too stubborn for your own good. "Swallow." He commanded gently.

And, like the good girl you were, you did just that - although with a grimace on your sweet little face the entire time.

"Good girl." Elvis praised softly, as he began to take off your clothes for your bath.

You watched as his coarse, ring-clad hands traced your skin, causing shivers to travel through your already sensitive skin. Elvis hushed you reassuringly, saying sweet nothings to reassure you that you were okay, that he was your Daddy and he was going to make you better, and you believed him.

After you were fully undressed and after Elvis checked the water temperature, Elvis helped you into the tub where you instantly loved the sensation of the hot water on your shivering skin.

"Does my little girl like that?" Elvis smiled warmly as he watched you smile for the first time today, even if it was only a small one.

You nodded as you brought your knees to your chest to rest your head on your knees, your head tilted so you could watch your Daddy.

Elvis grabbed a loofah and took to gently washing you, getting you all soapy and lathered up in the suds as he watched you practically preen in delight at his touch.

"Bein' such a good girl fr' Daddy, ain'tcha?" Elvis soothed.

"Yes Daddy." You said sweetly, your eyes closed in bliss as Elvis continued to wash you all over.

"That's right, that's my girl." Elvis praised as he held out one of your arms to wash it, as if you were some sort of a doll for him to move as he pleased. You were so malleable and so sweet and Elvis loved nothing more than to take care of you.

When Elvis was done washing you, he scooped you up out of the tub and wrapped you up in a fluffy towel, holding you tightly and peppering you in kisses, eliciting a few soft giggles from you.

He knew you were feeling little, you were so overwhelmed and he knew the last week had taken it's toll on you. You were a little people pleaser, so much so, that you'd taken on much more than sweet, little you could manage. You would comply to anyones request and you'd caused yourself to become burnt out and Elvis couldn't help but feel responsible for not stepping in sooner - even if he knew that if he had stepped in, you would've begged him to let you help out as much as possible because you were just a little angel sent from heaven. Elvis quickly got you dressed into your favourite pyjamas that you wore when you were feeling little. They had cartoon horses on them and you'd adorably named each one, one morning whilst Elvis was reading his paper and drinking his morning coffee.

He took special care as he dressed you, mindful that your body was still tender and sore.

As Elvis led you to your bed, you began to feel all drowsy and achey again, making you extra clingy and needy with Elvis, but he secretly didn't mind.

Elvis tucked you up in bed and placed your stuffed bunny in your little grasp, smoothing back your hair that had fallen in front of your face.

After placing a kiss atop of your head, Elvis began to make his way from the bedroom to let you sleep before he heard a whine come from your lips.

"Oh honey, what's the matter?" Elvis cooed, making his way back to the bed before you reached out your arms wide and made grabby hands at Elvis, making him chuckle ever so.

"Daddy, stay," You whimpered. You were not in any fit state to not be close to Elvis. "Don't go, need you." You mumbled cutely.

Elvis smirked as he began to remove his shoes and get atop the bed, next to you, placing one arm across the pillows where your head rested so that you were able to slot into his side and snuggle into him as you clasped onto your stuffed bunny too.

"I ain't goin' anywhere baby, now rest your eyes honey, you need to get your strength back little one." Elvis instructed, his fingers running through your hair, sending shivers through you as you let your eyes close.

Elvis continued to play with your hair as he reached over to his bed-side table with his other hand and grab the telephone.

"Jer? Yeah, Jer, tell the Colonel to tell whoever needs to know that the show ain't happenin' tonight, reschedule, cancel, I don't care. I gotta take care of Y/N, ain't no way I'm leavin' her tonight, not in the state she's in. Okay. Thanks Jer." Elvis said into the receiver before putting it down again.

You couldn't help but feel bad as you nestled into Elvis' side. "Daddy?" You said meekly.

"Yes baby?"

"You don't got to cancel your show Daddy." You said softly, your big eyes looking up at his blue ones.

"Little one, I ain't ever wanna do a show if you ain't in the crowd." Elvis said firmly and you knew he wasn't going to budge on the matter - and with that you drifted off in the arms of your Daddy.

[jhoneybees]

Little Nurse in Charge

Finally I'm posting another fic! I've been really missing the experience of writing so I'm getting my fogged up brain to work again lol there might be a few errors and misspelt words😅

Characters: Late60s/70sCG! Elvis X little!reader

Warnings/triggers: Age regression, little lifestyle, sickness

This is honestly my favourite moodboard🥹👇

Elvis had a long, stressful week. His schedule was hectic, being rushed from one place to another and doing a lot of recording and such was really taking a toll on him. You being his beloved partner, you worry about him. Everytime you would suggest for him to get some rest, he’d just brush it off and say he can handle it in which seeing him fall asleep in a millisecond the moment he flops onto the bed after a jam-packed day at the recording studio tells you otherwise.

Once Elvis finally gets some time off, the next morning he wakes up sore all over also having a scratchy throat, clicking his tongue in annoyance when he realises. Detangling himself out of the bedsheets , he pushes on the mattress with his knuckles and makes his way to the bathroom to find something for this “stupid cold” he mutters to himself, he stops in his tracks when he hears you stir in your sleep. Turning his head, Elvis watches your eyes flutter open, blinking blankly at him a few times before your eyebrows start to furrow and a pout forms. He sighs softly, you woke up little. Elvis pinches the bridge of his nose whilst resting a hand on his hip. How is he gonna take care of his sick self while also looking after little you? He already feels like a sack of potatoes that's been knocked about on the back of a farm truck so having to make sure your needs are met is gonna be a tough challenge, he never says no to being a caregiver for you though, he always takes up the challenge.

Elvis walks back over to the bed when you do grabby hands and he weakly chuckles “Mornin’ baby” leaning down to kiss your forehead, you respond wiggling closer to him and wrapping tired limp arms around his lower abdomen. Elvis smiles and strokes a strand of hair away from your face “Did ya get a good sleep?” answering with a small nod “Good sleep, daddy” you say while burying your face in the side of his thigh making him chuckle but he suddenly clears his throat which you didn't take notice of. “Did Daddy have a good sleep?” you ask quietly, Elvis cocks his head to the side and stares at the wall, letting out a hum as he thinks “Not really, Daddy's not feelin' too good this Mornin'” looking back, he sees a worried frown from you “Why?” questioning as you decide to sit up and Elvis smoothing your hair down. “Hm just sore and achy, baby” your concern grows, no matter if you're little or not, you always made sure Elvis is alright which sounds like he isn't, your eyes leave his to stare down at the duvet on the bed, the little crease between your eyebrows prominent as you process the situation.

Suddenly your eyes light up with an idea and you quickly scurry out of bed, pushing Elvis’ chest with your little hands “Lay down Daddy, lay down” you order and Elvis frowns in confusion “um sure.. but- why baby?” Doing what he's told, swinging his legs onto the bed and resting his head on the head board. You try to give him an authorised look but just ended up looking like an angry baby to Elvis, he chuckles slightly before he nods and raises his eyebrows at you “Daddy's sick, I- I'm look after him” explaining your plans to your daddy making him smile nervously “U-um that's real sweet of ya honey but i-i- don't think that's a good idea..” usually when you're little, Elvis would do everything for you since you just make a mess or have accidents that end up you crying or getting injured but you just shake your head “uh uh no daddy, nigh nighs’ “ telling him to just go to sleep and let you do your thing which he hesitantly accepts and gets comfortable under the covers. Elvis watching you run out of the bedroom and hearing your sooties scattering down the stairs, he laughs to himself at your funny behaviour.

After some time you arrive back through the bedroom doors with the first aid box that Elvis keeps in one of the kitchen cabinets for whenever you hurt yourself or get sick, a bit confused how you retrieved it since it's kept in a place out of your reach “H-how did you get that?” Elvis sits up and points a finger, you look at him with a pout and set the box on the bedside table “No Daddy nigh nighs!” completely ignoring his question and you push on his chest to make him lay down, Elvis sighs “Okay okay, I'm going nighs nighs, I'm goin'' closing his eyes and sighs.

As he tries to relax, Elvis begins to hear clinking of medicine bottles and ruffling of plastic packaging so out of curiosity he opens his eyes and cranes his neck “What are you doing honey?” Huffing out a breath you whine “daddy!” Elvis raising his hands in defeat “Okay alright alright, sorry” he rests his head down on the pillow again. A few moments later, a pair of hands caresses his hair away from his forehead and your voice quietly babbling “Daddy go nighs nighs..sleepy sleepy… puppy wittle puppy” Elvis's lips curve at the corners, stifling a laugh by adjusting himself in bed so he wouldn't ruin the moment for you. Your sweet nature of always looking out for people is one of things that made Elvis think he had to have you because how can he not? Of course because he's Elvis Presley but also because why not have someone like you? Someone so sweet and kind, babying him with all your love, all your devotion. What's not to love?

He sighs again as you continue to sing a lullaby that is obviously made up “Sleepy puppy…sleepy, sleepy, sleepy” The more you sing your little song, Elvis falls into a floaty sleep, soon drifting off. Bringing the covers up to his chin, you hum softly as your attention turns to the first aid box, your little hands hovering over the tops of the medicine bottles and paper boxes filled with bandages and other things that your little brain doesn't have a clue what they're used for. Picking up a thermometer, you cautiously move the blanket from Elvis' arm and slide it under his armpit. Taking a quiet step back, your eyes watch Elvis’ sleeping face with adoration and love. You’re just so lucky to have him as your caregiver, your daddy.

After a somewhat comfortable nap, Elvis wakes up. Looking around the room to find you’re not there, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard and lets out a breathy chuckle when he notices a thermometer under his armpit and shaking his head seeing your favourite stuffie being a white bunny laying next to him, thinking you must’ve put it there for him to feel less lonely.

He turns his head at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open to see you holding a tray with a bowl and spoon, pursing your lips with concentration to not spill anything. “What’s that baby?” Elvis chuckles quietly. A relieved breath emits, you place the tray on his lap “I ask Mary to make you soup!” you state proudly. With a calm nod and a loving smile, Elvis’ heart clenches “Aww… Thank you hon, that’s real sweet of ya” giggling like a schoolgirl, you climb onto the bed next to him and pick up the spoon “Hey, I- I can feed myself darlin” Elvis laughs nervously, watching as you hold the spoon near his mouth. You shake your head and whine “No! Open!” with yet another defeated sigh Elvis opens his mouth letting you spoon feed him. Even though Elvis feels nervous and on edge about you taking care of him, he does find it nice to just let you do what you want since you’re a calm little but of course still need to be disciplined now and again.

As you feed Elvis the last spoonful, you gently pat a napkin to the corners of his mouth, earning a chuckle “Always taking good care of Daddy hm?” poking at your sides playfully, you laugh and gently push his hands away. After Elvis moves the tray onto his bedside table, you decide to snuggle up with him under the blankets. Grinning softly as he sees you nuzzling your head against his chest and holding your favourite toy bunny tightly to yours. “Thank you for looking after me, little” he smiles.

[mooodyblue]

Would love some protective angry cg!Elvis!!! ❤️❤️❤️

i looved writing this one!!! i don't know why i always have to include jerry, i think i have a soft spot for him now don't worry u will all have more jerry content soon ty for the request 💓

trouble

wc: 1k

warnings: cursing, gn!reader, 70s!elvis

masterlist

elvis had always been protective of you, especially with all the girls around him constantly, but when you opened up to him about you regressing, he became slightly more protective over you. he always made sure he had an eye on you. if he wasn't able to keep an eye on you, he'd have jerry watch over you.

jerry was usually in charge of watching after you during shows. elvis was always afraid you'd slip while he wasn't there and jerry was the only one who knew what to do in those situations. he'd also bring you straight to the car right after a show as elvis shortly followed.

you'd slipped into your headspace right before it ended after dealing with a few of his fans having a word with you, thankfully jerry was there to push them away before things got worse. you sat in the car, waiting for elvis to come in as fans anxiously waited to get a peak at him as he got in. you kept eyeing the brown, teddy bear jerry had hidden away at his feet, unable to take it until they were on the road. "jer-"

"he'll be here soon, hon. hold on."

you sighed, messing with the hem of your dress instead. after a few more minutes, a breathless elvis jumped in along with a few more members of his entourage, switching seats with jerry as they all got in the seats in front of you as they caught their breath. elvis gave you a warm smile, pressing his lips against your cheek. "missed ya."

you tugged your arm under his, gripping and holding onto it as you rested your head on his shoulder. elvis put his glasses on and looked down at you, "feelin' little, baby?"

"mhm." you nuzzled into him as jerry handed you the bear, tucking it in your lap.

"thanks for watchin' 'em jerry, they been like this long?" he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you toyed with one of the many gems on his suit.

"not long at all, just right before we got in." he nodded.

"'m tired, daddy." you muttered.

"i know, doll. we'll be at the hotel soon." he said in your ear.

elvis had told everyone about your regression and what to do and how to act around you if you had dropped, most were understanding and some were a tad bit weirded out. but they knew better than to speak of you in that way. red turned around, eyeing you. "why do they get like that?"

elvis raised a brow, "like what?"

"y'know, like a baby 'n all that."

you frowned, moving from elvis to look down at your lap.

"i already explained it to you, didn't i?" he questioned. you could tell in elvis's tone that he was getting annoyed. part of you began to feel slightly bad for suddenly getting into your headspace.

"but it doesn't make sense to me. aren't they a full grown adult? they shouldn't be actin' like that! they've got a teddy bear for christ's sake!" he pointed at the bear that was in your lap. you held it tighter, resisting the urge to cover its ears becuase really, what did the bear have to do with this?

he then reached over to grab at it, most likely to tease you with it. elvis grabbed ahold of his wrist before he could make contact with it, gripping on it tightly. "lamar, pull the car over." he said through his teeth. "now."

lamar wasn't one to argue and pulled right over, everyone turning to look at the commotion in the back. elvis still had a tight grip around his friends wrist, glaring at him angrily, a look you'd never seen before in your life. "elvis-" you panicked.

he ignored the call of his name, knowing you must have been trying to force yourself out of your comforting headspace. "you do not, and i mean, do not touch my baby nor do you touch their bear." he let go of his wrist, waving a finger in his face.

"i've 'bout had it with some of y'all judgin' them behind their back, i know damn well that's what you do when i'm not around." you gave a quick glance to jerry who was sitting on the other side of you, who only gave you a sad smile and a gentle pat on the knee. you liked jerry, he was always kind to you.

"they're not even hurtin' anyone! they're bein' themselves, making themselves more comfortable after a stressful situation! and who are y'all to judge? l-like y'all don't have your own lil' quirks and such."

the whole car was still silent. you sunk farther into the seat, as if trying to hide from the situation.

"if i ever hear any of ya speak ill of my baby or make fun of 'em in anyway, your ass is gettin' kicked to the curb. and i mean it." his voice heavy with anger. "now all of you are gonna keep your mouths shut, face the front and don't even think about sayin' some shit to 'em. i will kick someone's ass if i have to. now lamar, drive." he finished his rant, sitting back again and letting out a huff.

"'m sorry." you mumbled.

"oh baby, don't apologize. i'm sorry for cursin' 'round ya. don't be saying those words either, you're too little for 'em." he pulled you close and adjusted the bear in your lap. "think we should get you another friend soon, what do you think?" he asked, changing the conversation.

your eyes lit up, your brain already creating names for your next plushie friend. "oh daddy, really?"

"don't they have enough?" jerry joked.

elvis tsk'd at jerry, shaking his head. "can never have enough, c'mon jer, y'know this already."

"yeah, jerry!" you added, sticking your tongue at him. "wait-are you gonna fire jerry now?"

elvis thought for a minute, "i reckon we give him one more chance."

"deal!"

[kiankiwi]

just wanted to say I love your writing sm!! 💗💗

I was wondering if I could request a cg!elvis (specifically big daddy elvis 👀) with a little reader where she is in the swimming pool at Graceland and acting very bratty and refusing to get out. elvis gets her favorite things, stuffies, toys etc. to bribe her out of the pool but she still refuses, then he promises her cuddles and she finally gets out and he wraps her in a big towel and they hug for a while by the pool🥺

THANK YOU SO MUCH you have no idea what that means to me <3333 Feedback is always loved. 70's E coming right up!:

*

You and E were having a day together and it was wonderful weather so you and E were lounging in the pool. You had been in here for hours and were starting to get pruney. E had noticed you were getting pruney as well and in fact it was time for your nap as well so he figured it was finally time to get out and dry off.

"Time's up baby, time to go in and get in your jammies!" You stopped your splashing, trying to read Elvis's face to see if he was just kidding or not. "No, I wanna play." Elvis stands up from his beach chair and walks to the edge of the pool crouching down to talk to you. "I know you want to play baby but you're getting pruney lovie. And it's time for a nap. C'mon bubs you can get all warm and cozy and have some snuggles, huh?"

You back up and lean back, positioning your hands as if you're going to splash Elvis. Elvis raises his eyebrows and puts his hands up to somewhat defend himself from the water. "You better not splash me, Y/N. Don't even think about it." You eye him for a minute before backing away from the idea, but still not getting out of the pool like your daddy asked, going over to grab the ball in the air to make it splash once it comes back to you.

Elvis sighs and walks into the house thinking bribery is the only thing he can think of to get you out of that pool. Usually when you notice him walk away from you, you lose it screaming and crying but you're so caught up in playing that you don't notice he left until he comes back with your favorite blankie over his shoulder and your favorite stuffie in his hand. He shakes it to catch your eye.

"Hey baby, who's this? Wanna come hug your friend? He told me he missed you!" You eye your favorite plushie and oooh do you want to snuggle your face into your blankie but you look around at all the toys in the pool and how nice the water feels on your tanning skin. "No daddy I stay here. Play here."

Elvis has to supress a groan and he tosses your blankie and your stuffy on the beach chair and turns back to you and you scream. "Hey! Don't throw Bubbles! Be gentle daddy!" You're angry now. And you glare at him so he knows it. Elvis keeps trying to coax you gently. "C'mon baby don't you want snuggles? Snuggles with daddy?" Elvis can tell you're actually considering it but at the last second you scream, "NO! PLAY!" Elvis groans, "You little--" Elvis stops to pace a bit and then gets down on all fours by the edge of the pool and reaches out, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward him, picking you up. "Enough, you little monster. We're going night-night then we can play some more later."

You try to wiggle out of his hold and you try to use the advantage that the pool water makes you slippery but you're daddy is prepared that you're gonna start flailing and catches you every which way you go. "No, no, no. We're going in. No negotiations." He knows that too big a word for you to understand in your headspace but you do understand the word no and the fact that he literally just pulled you out of the pool. Elvis takes you to the edge of the sliding patio doors where he meets Jerry who's ready and armed with a warm fluffy towel. Elvis holds you and Jerry wraps the towel around you, tucking it around you securly while you just cry and cry into your daddy's shoulder.

"Oh I know, I know it's the end of the world, I know baby." Jerry chuckles, rubbing your back a bit to comfort and dry you a bit before you go into the house to get ready for naptime.

Eventually after about fifteen minutes of Elvis patting your back and swaying you back and forth still outside, you finally quiet down, just hiccuping and sniffling.

"We doing better, honey?" Elvis asks as he pulls back to look at your face. And sure enough, you're dozing in his shoulder. Elvis chuckles. "Of course little one. All that upsetness and now you're passed out. Jer look at 'er." Elvis walks over to Jerry who's laying up in a beach chair and turns so that he can see you passed out on your daddy's shoulder. "Oh my gosh.." Both the men chuckle and chuckle even more when you feel Elvis's chest move with laughter and you whine at him, wanting to be still. "Sorry lovie."

*

I was writing about sunshine and pools while I see snow falling lol

I hope you enjoyed! I hope it was okay <33

I also love how 70's e can be the most stern <3

If you have any ideas or requests let me know <333333

Happy reading

[earthbaby-angelboy]

when you reveal your regression to E is him figuring out where and how he can make you your very own TCB paci... because he was gonna give you a necklace or ring but now that you've revealed you're little, he thinks you'll love a paci more

a little TCB, a lotta TLC | little!reader x 70s!cg!elvis (wc: 1,394) - A/N: congratulations, your request will be the first full-length cg!elvis fic i've ever written. enjoy!

You had been with Elvis for quite a while now. He knew you like he knew his music; perfectly and imperfectly, for all its quirks and flaws and melodies. He knew when you’d want something at the store by the way your eyes would light up, and he knew that you’d get all shy and blushy when receiving gifts. There was, however, one thing he didn’t know about. The fuzziness that would occasionally overtake your sweet lil brain. Elvis was a caretaker by nature. He cared for everyone, if not in different ways. For the Mafia, he provided work. For his fans, he provided entertainment. But for you, he provided life. He gave you everything you could ask for emotionally, physically, and mentally. So, it only felt right that after having been in his life for such a long while, he deserved to know about your regression.

The discussion with him wasn’t intense. It was gentle and quick, the way you hoped it’d be. You sat him down in the Jungle Room, and explained that when you were overly happy or stressed, something would “click” in your brain and you’d feel like your head was filled with cotton; like you were a kid again. He asked a few questions here and there, but quickly caught on. You were just a kiddo, and as someone important in your life, he seamlessly stepped into the role of a caregiver.

Someday soon after, he was sitting in the den with Charlie and Jerry, two of his closest confidants. You had expressed to Elvis that there was a select few people he could clue-in to your regression, but you didn’t want anyone else knowing. And honestly, Elvis didn’t trust anyone but Charlie and Jerry with the preciousness that was your regression. Tonight, the TV was playing quietly, but where he would usually be shouting at the stupid antics of the people on whatever drama was on, he was silent. The other two men in the room exchanged a glance, and before they could say anything, Elvis spoke.

“Boys, either of ya know a guy who could make somethin’ for me?” “You’re gon’ have to get more specific than that, EP. What ‘somethin’ are we talkin’ bout?” Jerry responded, as Charlie looked on inquisitively.

Elvis sighed. “I don’ really know. I wanna get my baby somethin’, somethin’ TCB. Y’all got the rings and necklaces and such, but I don’ think a lil thing like her wants a gold chain.” He ended with an exasperated laugh.

Charlie’s eyes darted back and forth for a moment before he piped up. ‘Well, you said she usually drops young. How bout’ a pacifier?”

And with that, the idea was born. Elvis wanted to call his jeweler, and have him encrust the pacifier with diamonds and put a garishly large white-gold TCB logo in the middle. After some sketching and a bit of arguing, the guys had convinced him to get you one more age-appropriate, and less lavish. While Charlie and Jerry gave their two cents, it was Elvis that made the final call. He decided on a dark blue pacifier, with pearls and sapphires adorning the edges. The middle had a small, sterling silver TCB logo, and the handle read LOVER DOLL in pink and blue letters.

He wanted to do an elaborate event that would end with him giving you the pacifier, but instead decided to do something more your style. He picked a Tuesday morning, and gave the entire staff the day off. The only people in the mansion were you, and him.

He would usually get up a while after you did, giving you apt time to prepare for the day. However, last night he helped you (unknowingly) pick a blue and white dress that matched the theme of your pacifier. With that, you chose a white bow, some frilly socks, and a pair of your favorite mary-janes. By the time you had finished up this morning, Elvis was already downstairs with breakfast all layed out. Running down the stairs, you noticed him sitting at the head of the table, a cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other. The windows were cracked to let in some fresh air, and the sunlight was so perfectly placed behind Elvis that it made him look like there was a halo floating above him.

It was almost comedic, the domestic little life that the biggest entertainer in the world had created for you.

Skipping over to where he sat, you gave him a peck on the cheek. “Mornin’ daddy! How’d ya sleep?”

You asked sweetly as you sat down at the table and smoothed out your dress, a plate of your favorite breakfast already waiting for you. Grabbing a piece of toast and shoving it in your mouth, you looked over at him with wide eyes. He put down his newspaper, and looked at you. He paused for a moment, a smile creeping up to his eyes, and responded, “I slept well, baby.”

You looked at him curiously, but nodded and continued on with your breakfast anyway. Usually, mornings were busy and full of energy. The maids would run around preparing the mansion for the coming day, members of the Mafia would be howling with laughter or arguing over which girl they would get, and Elvis would fill you in on his (and your) plans for the day. This morning, Graceland was silent with the exception of Chuck Berry’s record spinning quietly in the background. The two of you sat in quiet for another couple minutes, until you started to become antsy. Was your daddy mad at you? Did you do something wrong? Did he just need alone time? You decided to break the silence.

You looked over at him, and were a bit surprised to see that he was staring at you with a fond expression on his face. You furrowed your eyebrows and asked, “Daddy…you okay?”

He tilted his head, but didn’t break away from looking at you. “Oh yeah, honey, daddy’s alright. Just can’t believe how lucky I am to have a lil’ dolly like you.” You looked away from him, a small smile on your face. It wasn’t odd for the two of you to have sweet moments such as these, but it was the lack of craziness in the mansion that gave you the idea Elvis may have had something planned.

Shaken out of your thoughts, you looked back to at your carer to see him pulling out a baby blue box from underneath the table. “Sweetheart, you remember how I kept askin’ ya about what lightnin’ jewelry you wanted?” (You had decided that TCB felt too formal, so ‘lightning’ became a nickname for the abbreviation.)

You took a sip of your juice and nodded. “Well…yeah? But you know I don’ want no fancy jewelry…m’ too small for all that.” You said the last part quietly, but of course your daddy heard it.

“I know, yittle. Which is why I had this made.”

He slid the box gently towards you, and you straightened up a bit. Even after all the time you’d been with Elvis, you never grew accustomed to his generosity with gifts. But, for some reason your mind couldn’t grasp, this felt different. You weren’t anxious, but you were instead filled with a hopeful curiosity. Maybe it would be a new bow, or the plushie you’d asked for, or- and before you could get to the next possibility, your hands were opening the box.

Inside, the pacifier.

You stared at it for a moment with a blank look on your face, and then your eyes grew wide with excitement. You jumped right out of your seat, turned to Elvis, and flung your arms around his shoulders. "Thank you, thank you, thank you Daddy! It's so pretty! And it matches my dress, how perfect! Thank you!"

Elvis gave a soft laugh, and tilted his head up to give you a kiss on the cheek. "I'm happy you like it baby, but you gotta be careful! Can't be squeezin' daddy like a ketchup bottle, cause then he won't be able to give ya more of those pretty lil' pacifiers!"

You paused from your hug, and looked down at him. "...You made more?"

"...Shit." "DADDY!"

[earthbaby-angelboy]

1970s CG ELVIS MASTERLIST | all works tagged under # 70s!cg!elvis

Elvis giving you a TCB pacifier

Helping his baby who just can't sleep

[jhoneybees]

Sweet Love

This one is a very short one but my brain isn't cooperating with me at the moment :( also I'm thinking of not adding prompts to my posts hehe just a little surprise for you all.

I hope you like this drabble :)

Characters: Early70s! Elvis X Femlittle!reader

Warnings/triggers: age regression, crying, little lifestyle

_____________________________________________

One of Elvis' favourite moments is you sitting on the carpeted floor of the jungle room, staring at the TV playing whatever Elvis movie you were wanting to watch. Now he doesn't usually allow others to watch his movies in his house but if it comes to you, that's an exception. Those big doe eyes of yours peering up at him, bottom lip pouting paired with a “pwetty please?” and a “I've been good, daddy” defeats him every time, he can't resist you.

This time you asked Elvis to watch ‘King Creole’ which he gladly sets everything up, like a good girl you are, you wait patiently as Elvis turns on the TV. After tinkering around with the plugs and remotes, the movie finally plays. “Alright, now ya want something to snack on baby? Apples? Crackers?” Elvis asks “Apples! Apples!” You say excitedly, doing grabby hands making Elvis laugh. With a peck on the forehead, he walks off into the kitchen.

As Elvis arrives back in the jungle room, he sets the snack on the floor in front of you, giving you another peck on the forehead before sitting down on the couch behind you. The sounds of the movie filling in the silence between the two of you making the moment calm and peaceful, Elvis’ eyes wandering to you mindlessly chomping on the slices of apple, he breathes out a laugh with a grin. How can you be so adorable?

Something that Elvis witnesses sometimes when supervising while you watch movies is sweet little you feels bad for the main characters when they get injured because you know that’s your daddy playing them, and when the scene of Danny fisher gets hunted down by the bad guys and limps away with a wound on his arm after beating them all up, that feeling of guilt bubbles inside of you, soon whimpering “Daddy! Hurt!... Daddy!” finger pointing at the TV, knuckling at your eyes adorably. “Daddy..” pitfully crying as you climb to your feet to run straight onto Elvis’ lap “Honey, ‘s okay I’m okay! Just a movie baby, just a movie” he reassures with a chuckle, rubbing your back soothingly while you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Frantically shaking your head “Daddy got hurt!” repeating your words as you scooch closer to Elvis, bringing a supportive hand on your thigh Elvis shushes you softly “I’m not hurt baby, I’m alright. It’s just a movie honey” lifting your head out from the crook of his neck, sniffling quietly “Daddy not hurt?” nodding his head with a small hum “ Yes baby I’m not hurt, it was just for the movie” he strokes your hair gently to comfort you. Now you feel embarrassed thinking Elvis was actually hurt, I mean how can you not? The fake wound looked so realistic. You shyly return to hiding your face in his neck making him chuckle “Aw baby…” Elvis whispers to which you respond with a sad sob continuing to rub your back with his large strong hand, after a while he pushes on your shoulders for you to look at him, he pouts at the sight in front of him, your eyes all glossy and your cheeks all red. He realises how much you care for him even when you're little. Him being a caregiver, he thought he’d be taking care of you but you soon showed him that you’re taking care of him too.

Because no matter if you're little or not, your love and care for your daddy never changes.

[jhoneybees]

Have you ever thought about when you read fanfics, you feel so comfortable in that universe you're reading?? I'm specifically talking about Elvis X reader or CG!Elvis X little!Reader.

It just feels like home, homely, and gosh to live in that universe would be a dream, yeah it's probably a fan 'thing' I don't know how to explain it.

Just UGHHH to feel Elvis engulf you in his firm, strong arms, resting your head on his chest after his long day of recording, getting kisses on the cheek from him and getting called darlin', sweetie, sweetheart, baby, babydoll, doll, love bug, my girl.

UGHHHHHH I miss him so much, I want to cry.

Just look at him...oh. my. god.

[wanderingelvis]

Okay, just...imagine CG Elvis feeding his little while she sits on his lap or in a large highchair.

This is super cute! I'm gonna make it a headcanon:

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

Pairings: CG!Elvis x Little F!Reader

Elvis loves to feed you, and you love being fed by your Daddy

Elvis always wants to make sure you're well fed, so mealtimes are the most certain thing in the day, despite Elvis' ever-changing, hectic schedule

He knows all he needs to do is pat his thigh and you'll come running, clambering up onto it so you can straddle it

You're usually always well-behaved, sitting on your Daddy's knee whilst he wraps a strong arm around your tummy, his large hand gripping your side to keep you in place

He'll use his other hand to feed you, passing you bits of fruit or spoon-feeding you your meal

You're soft natured and pliant, which Elvis loves, making meal times a tender and intimate moment for you two

That doesn't mean it can't get messy, oh boy, it can get messy

Sometimes you're just feeling too little, and you miss your mouth when trying to feed yourself, causing Elvis to intervene

"Hold still, will ya baby? Whatchu got? Ants in yer pants?" Elvis chuckles, teasing you as you giggle

He'll end up taking a damp cloth and wiping it across your face at the end of the meal as you giggle at the tickling feeling it gives you

Your set up of eating whilst sitting on your Daddy's lap never changes and you both love that

Even if there are guests

You'll be quieter than usual, naturally shy at a lot of attention directed in your direction, even if it is mostly at Elvis

But Elvis will rub soothing circles on your tummy, or have his thumb trace your sides, discreetly albeit comfortingly

He'll pass you your food or feed it to you, and you'll concentrate just on that, thinking about the grown-up conversation going on at the table would just be too much for little, sweet, you

Elvis knows when you're full, it's when your head is lolling on his shoulder, your whole body relaxed and melting into his

But that's usually before you've finished your vegetables, with them still scattered on your favourite, pink plate that has pictures of bunnies on it

"Just got ya vegetables left, sweetpea." Elvis reminds you gently

"Can't do it, Daddy, m'full," You mumble

"You can do it, Daddy knows you can, you gotta eat your greens." Elvis reminds you, with a slightly sterner tone, and you know that you're not going to win this battle, even if you don't like vegetables

"Now, open that pretty little mouth for Daddy and finish your plate, like a good girl."

You'll reluctantly yet obediently open your mouth, letting Elvis feed you the final vegetables, even if it does take ages, Elvis will wait it out to make sure you're being healthy

Elvis will whisper sweet praises in your ear, which he knows will make you just melt

Once you've swallowed the last bit of veg, Elvis will always kiss the top of your head

"What's for puddin', Daddy?" You'll ask sweetly, fiddling with his rings, distracted and feeling small

Elvis will chuckle at your delicate state, he loves meal times as much as you do, it's the time when he feels most like a caregiver to you

"Thought your tummy was all full, little girl?" Elvis says, raising an eyebrow at you

"Still got room in my tummy for puddin', Daddy." You giggle

And he always gets you pudding

taglist: @dandelionxbby @littleloveysworld @lana-4life @kxnnxy @mygreenlights @domaniquessidehoe @reddie-freddie @meetmeatyourworst @octobers-snow @slimerspengler @elvisbf @astralheart21 @fallinlovewithurlove @eliseinmemphis @gothicphantom @sassanoe @hollbunn @ellie-24 @elvispresleywife @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @billhaderstan420 @wwebaby657 @wolywolymoley @ccab @librafilms @presleyenterprise @imaginationlast @vintagegirl2005 @prompted-wordsmith

[earthbaby-angelboy]

i am FLOWING with scenarios and whatnot tonight so here’s another one!

if you grind your teeth when anxious, i think el would try to make you aware of it, hoping that you’d understand he didn’t want you to do it (in fear of you hurting your teeth or creating permanent damage!) if you didn’t become aware, he’d leave the room for a minute and come back with a paci for you!

he’d just wordlessly hand it to you with a small smile as to not make you self conscious. he does this every time you grind your teeth. he always has a pacifier on hand for whenever you need it, and it kinda becomes a comfort item.

(ok this next bit may or may not be self-indulgent because i’ve been grinding my teeth so bad in my sleep that i’ve actually started chipping teeth and now have to do this so bare with me)

if you grind your teeth in your sleep, even when you aren’t little, he’ll get a paci & a clip, attach one to your shirt and encourage you to use it. at first you’re iffy about it cause you don’t want to become dependent on it, but after a few nights of using it, you realize how much they help! :D

[wanderingelvis]

🧚 WanderingElvis' Masterlist 🧚

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

2. Meeting Gladys & Graceland (Requested)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

18. Elvis overstimulates Innocent!Reader at the movies

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

Elvis Fanfictions

Sparkly Little Thing 🧚✨ | A Yandere!Elvis fic

Chapter One - The Party

Elvis Headcanons

CG!Elvis feeds Little F!Reader

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

3. How Elvis treats Innocent F!Reader in public

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

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

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

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

[wanderingelvis]

i was wondering (and totally lmk if i’m like spamming you i totally don’t mean to) if you could write a fic where elvis meets an innocent reader on the set of a movie.(the reader is an extra) and elvis begins to notice the readers little space habits and suspects it. one day, after overhearing some of the other male cast members make rude remarks about the reader and elvis decides it’s time to take the reader home where he can protect them. elvis calls the reader over to his trailer and starts to make the reader drop, so that he can take the reader home and be their daddy.

i loved this request sm that it’s gonna be a two-parter!! so here’s part 1! ✨

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

Word count: 3,101

Pairings: 70s CG!Elvis and Little F!Reader

Warnings: little space lifestyle, manipulation

It was your first proper job. The one that you were proud of, that your parents would tell their friends about and it was a lot of pressure.

You were the newest person to Elvis’ little performing circle and Elvis always made a point to get to know his band and performers - how else could he put on a successful performance if not everyone was on the same page and trusting each other?

After spending time alone with you and in a group setting, Elvis had his suspicions about you. You had all the qualities of someone with a little personality - docile, submissive, wide-eyed, easily overwhelmed and eager to please. Now, Elvis knew that this meant that you could just be sweet and innocent, adjusting to the chaos of his world, but Elvis figured that even if you were just that, the little lifestyle would certainly help you cope in dealing with all of it.

The first time Elvis really suspected anything was during a break in recording, when a stuffed animal fell out of your locker in front of everyone. You furiously tried to stuff it back in, hoping that no-one had seen, but you'd caught Elvis', Jerry and Sonny's eyes as well as a few others. Your cheeks heated a violent shade a pink, as you tried to sort yourself out, getting increasingly flustered and overwhelmed. As Elvis observed you from afar, he knew you couldn't look after yourself properly, someone was going to have to do it for you.

From then on, Elvis had quietly instructed Jerry to have someone watch over you, making sure you were okay and reporting back to Elvis.

Elvis had been told by Charlie that he’d spotted you in the park by the studios colouring pretty pictures under a tree, whilst Red had informed Elvis that you stopped past every stray cat in the lot, crouching down to speak to it, feed it if you could and stroke it.

Elvis knew you were a little angel sent straight from heaven and he knew he had to have you. Elvis devised a somewhat sinister little ploy to get him in your good graces, for you to see him in a caregiver light from your first proper encounter.

The fame and power that came with Elvis meant that all he needed to do was slip the security a $100 dollar bill and in exchange, he and his small entourage were given the keys to every locker. He only really trusted Jerry with this operation as he made Jerry break into your locker and retrieve your teddy bear from your locker and bring it to Elvis. Now, Elvis knew that his actions were going to cause you distress, but he figured that in the grand scheme of things, you’d be better off for it - that’s how Elvis liked to justify many of his less-than-moral escapades.

“Thanks, Jer.” Elvis said, grabbing the plush, brown teddy bear with a pink bow tie from Jerry who remained slightly confused at Elvis’ intentions.

“Now what, EP?” Jerry asked, curiously.

“Now, I’ll give it back to her when the timing is just right.” Elvis said, leaving Jerry just as bewildered. Jerry figured it was better to just let Elvis do whatever it was that he needed to do rather than question it. There was a method to his madness, Jerry tried to tell himself.

When you realised that your beloved and treasured teddy bear, Binky, was missing, it felt like your whole world had fallen apart - or at least the secure feeling of it that your teddy bear gave you.

You tried real hard not to let the sheer panic and distress seem obvious as you stood at your open locker, quietly hyperventilating that your most trusted teddy was gone. She was a reminder of home, that helped steady you when things where getting all a bit much for little, sweet you.

You began to pace the locker room, thinking maybe she’d fallen out of your bag somewhere and been misplaced but the panic inside of your tummy was growing as your started to realise she was nowhere to be seen.

You see, Elvis was watching you from a tall window above the entry locker room, from the top of a stairwell as your distress confirmed to him that you were indeed a little, even if you didn’t know it yet.

You tried to keep your composure as you went into rehearsals with Elvis and the rest of the crew. It was safe to say you were feeling very wobbly and nervous, your lost teddy bear playing persistently on your mind. You were worried you’d dropped her in a puddle or left her on the bus on the way to the studio, what if she was scared? You could’ve sworn that you’d put Binky in your locker along with your bag, but you knew your memory wasn’t the best and now you were just so confused, right before you had to go and record.

Sheepishly, you wandered into the studio where a couple of people were already set up and chatting. You walked over to your stool and microphone, sitting down and patiently and quietly waiting for Elvis and everyone else to appear.

You were trying to remain calm, you knew you needed to be a big girl right now, not crying over some silly bear, you just couldn’t help the anxious feeling that was creeping its way into your body.

When Elvis appeared he went around the small room greeting everyone, making sure they all felt comfortable and good - and that’s when he landed on you.

“Ready to record, Y/N?” Elvis asked in a surprisingly softer tone, a little more hushed than usual.

You offered a small smile and nod, your quiet demeanour making Elvis raise his eyebrow at you, even if he knew why you were quiet.

“Everythin’ alright honey?” Elvis asked gently.

“Just tired.” You mumbled albeit remaining very polite. Elvis nodded and continued on.

The recording was going well until your microphone fell from its stand as you tried to adjust it, causing a loud bang in the isolated room. You apologised skittishly, and you thought everything was going okay until you screwed up your lines, your brain just going fuzzy.

Feeling a little worked up, you apologised again, especially to Elvis, who just sent you a nod of acknowledgment before continuing.

When the horrendous session was finally through, you quietly began to gather your bearings and sort your equipment when you realised someone much taller had approached you.

“Y/N? Elvis would like to see you right away in his trailer.” A man, who you believed to be called Jerry, told you. You gulped, realising you were likely in for a big telling off after ruining several takes with your clumsy and distracted self.

You followed Jerry compliantly, you wouldn’t ever disobey any command, you didn’t trust yourself to know better and you wouldn’t dare go against anyone. Jerry led you to Elvis trailer, doing an odd pattern of knocking, probably so that Elvis knew it was him. Jerry nodded at you and opened the door, before walking off to tend some other business.

You tentatively wandered into the trailer that you’d never been in before. You liked it a lot, velvet reds, an oddly comforting scent of cigar smoke, designs for performance outfits pinned on a wall and even a few pistols laid out on a counter.

“Y/N?” Elvis said cooly, snapping you out of your observations, you noticed you’d begun nibbling your finger whilst looking around - a childish habit that for some reason, you couldn’t get out of.

You just smiled sweetly, unsure what Elvis wanted but fearing you’d let him down during the recordings.

“Do you know why I called you here Y/N?” Elvis asked gently, relaxing on the couch as you stayed fixed in your spot, not daring to move unless told to.

The size difference between you was immense, you felt utterly dwarfed by his presence. He wasn’t even the tallest guy on the lot, despite being very tall, yet he seemed to tower over just about everyone.

You panicked a little at the question, fiddling with you fingers. “M’in trouble for messing up the recording?” You asked meekly, shy to even admit it.

“Not in trouble sweetheart,” Elvis assured gently. The pet name made your tummy do a little somersault - a sensation that was foreign to you but one that you quite liked. “Everyone’s got bad days, you didn’t seem yourself in there,” Elvis said observantly.

You were feeling wobbly. Now, you weren’t actually accustomed to the little space lifestyle so you didn’t really understand the feelings you often experienced, you couldn’t really articulate them in any way to yourself, let alone to somebody else. But you knew when you felt a little different, you felt, as you put it, wobbly. It was that feeling of anxiety, mixed with neediness and vulnerability.

You weren’t exactly sure what triggered feeling wobbly either. You knew that it could happen when you woke up in the morning, if something out of the ordinary happened in your routine, if you were scared or even if you were happy.

You blinked a little, worried about a potential onset of tears if you admitted to Elvis you’d lost Binky.

“I, um, I lost somethin’ just before the session, and, and,” You frowned a little, getting frustrated at yourself at tripping over your words. “I guess, it was just on my mind lots. M’sorry, it won’t happen again, I promise.” You said earnestly, your nerves and flustered state seeming obvious to Elvis, who patted the spot on the couch next to him.

“C’mere.” Elvis cooed and you complied without a second thought, making your way over and sitting down next to the big man. “Whatcha missin’ darlin’?” Elvis asked, despite knowing.

“My bea-“ You stopped yourself, feeling all hot and bothered at mentioning that you were so devoted to a soft toy, thinking how silly you’d look in front of Elvis. “No, it’s silly.” You mumbled.

“If it’s causin’ you this much upset little one, it ain’t silly.” Elvis soothed, the pet name doing a number on you again, giving you those strange wobbly feelings.

You’d always found Elvis attractive, even before you started working with him. However, there were little things that you really liked about him, such as when you were standing in line next to him in the canteen area, he’d always help serve your plate up, always insisting on more green vegetables to keep you healthy.

It was like he was a dominant albeit gentle and encouraging presence and you really were drawn to him, even if it was unprofessional.

“I have a teddy bear and I lost her and she’s really special to me and I don’t know where I put her a-and I thought, I thought,” You we’re starting to get worked up and panicky all over again, this time in front of someone so famous and powerful that it was making the situation worse. “I put her someplace safe but when I looked she was gone and she helps me and I don’t know what to,” You whimpered, your voice cracking as tears began to pool in your eyes.

You dared not look at Elvis, only imagining his face when he realised how weird you were. Yet all you felt was a large hand on your back, gently rubbing soothing circles which helped.

“Oh little one, I’m sorry.” Elvis cooed as you hiccuped adorably by his side, your feet not quite reaching the floor in comparison to his which were outstretched. “What does she look like hm?”

“Um, um, she, she’s got um, brown fur and she’s got a pink bow tie and it’s um, it’s real pretty,” You stammered, feeling so wobbly and small as tears began to trickle down your puffy cheeks.

“A pink bow tie?” Elvis asked with you nodding and sniffling in response. “Well, I did happen to notice a teddy bear out in the entrance to the lot earlier, a teddy bear with a pink bow tie in fact.” Elvis said and for the first time since you entered his room, you looked straight up at him.

“Really?” You sniffled, your eyes wide as you wiped them with your sleeve.

“Want to come with me and we can take a look and see if she’s yours?” Elvis said gently. You nodded yet again, feeling just a bit too wobbly to keep using words. “Okay sweet girl, let’s go.”

Elvis helped you up a little, taking your small hand in his large one as you went to another room. You realised that lots of trailers were interconnected from the inside and Elvis had so much space.

You were surprised at how sweet and kind Elvis was being. You’d expected him to find you odd, but he was being gentle and soft with you, as if he knew you were feeling a little unsure of yourself and in a wobbly state of mind.

When you turned a corner, you entered a room where lots of other men, who you realised later were Elvis’ Memphis Mafia, were all lounging on the couches, laughing and drinking. At the sudden surprise at the large crowd of loud men, you tried to hide behind Elvis a little, shuffling your body behind his whilst holding his hand a little extra tightly, which he couldn’t help but smirk at.

“Outta here, fellas.” It was just three words but they all quickly obliged Elvis’ request, leaving within a minute of the command. It made you realise the power and control Elvis held. “Sorry about them, honey.” Elvis said, offering you a smile.

He led you a draw, opening it and pulling out Binky, with you tearing up all over again at the mere sight of her.

“That’s her, that’s Binky.” You said, wiping your eyes again as you hiccuped. Relief washed over your small body as you wrapped your arms around Elvis, as far as they would go. “Thank you, thank you, you saved her!” You cried sweetly.

“Oh darlin’, look atchu, look at the state you’re in, all worked up, hm?” Elvis cooed, grabbing some tissues from a box on the table and kneeling down to gently dab it under your eyes and nose. You felt a little embarrassed at the way you were, but you couldn’t help it if you tried, you were just an overwhelmed little thing.

“M’sorry, I was just real worried and she, she’s real special t’me.” You said softly.

“I know she is, I know baby. Binky’s a pretty name, you give her that name sweet girl?” Elvis asked you, trying to make you feel better.

Elvis was secretly thrilled at how everything had turned out, you were even more vulnerable than he’d initially anticipated. He could tell that you were feeling little, you just didn’t know how to articulate it, just like a little one.

He wanted to protect you and take care of you so badly, here you were, right in front of him, a sweet, beautiful, docile, gentle, naive little thing and he just had to have you.

“Uh huh.” You said sweetly, “I had her all my life and she just makes me happy and helps me when I’m feelin’…” You trailed off a little, unsure of how to describe how you felt to Elvis.

“A bit confused hm?” Elvis said, finishing your sentence for you. You nodded, grateful that Elvis was able to think for you. “I bet she’s been helping you with your new job here?” Elvis asked.

“Jus’ get scary sometimes.” You admitted, almost whispering as Elvis continued to kneel in front of you.

Both you and Elvis realised you were feeling extremely ‘wobbly’ as you’d put it, as you started chewing on your fingertips anxiously.

“I know it can baby, you’re doin’ a real good job of it baby.” Elvis hushed.

“Really?”

“Really. How’s about I make you a lil’ promise honey?” Elvis suggested, gently taking your fingers from your mouth and holding them in his own hands. “How’s about, whenever you feel scared, or even a lil’ bit nervous or confused, you come knock on that door and you come find me? You can do whatever you like, you and Binky, you can even have a nap if you need to. How does that sound, little one?” Elvis said, pushing stray hairs behind your ear tenderly, making shivers go down your spine.

You nodded again, liking the idea very much. You had some friends in this place but you often found it all very overwhelming and stressful. Elvis had been nothing but a calm, authoritative presence and you craved more and more of him.

“Good girl.” Elvis praised.

And that’s how the next couple of months ensued. Elvis delighted in you seeking him out for comfort. At first, it was only a couple of times a week but eventually, you’d be in his dressing rooms practically every day.

Elvis had made it a safe haven for you, he’d even given you your own draw, where you’d keep Binky, knowing she was much better off there than in your locker. It also held a colouring book with lots of different paints and colouring pencils for you, which you enjoyed doing quietly between each rehearsal. Elvis has even put some of your favourite snacks in there for if you were ever feeling peckish.

It had everything and Elvis gave you everything. You felt so looked after and cared for that it was becoming difficult to not become totally dependent on Elvis. It was at the point where Elvis, or one of his men, would now pick you up from your little apartment and drop you back, even if that meant you staying far later than your finished time. But you didn’t mind, you loved the tranquil and safe space Elvis had made for you. You loved doing your pretty colours for Elvis whilst he worked on other projects throughout the day, as you eagerly awaited his return so that you could run up to him and show him all your pretty pictures.

Elvis was surprised at how quickly you seemed to slip into the routine he’d provided for you. You were everything he wanted and more - beautiful, gentle, kind, naive and little.

The only thing left to do was to officially introduce you to the little lifestyle, and Elvis couldn’t wait.

taglist: @eliseinmemphis @prompted-wordsmith @vintagegirl2005 @imaginationlast @presleyenterprise @librafilms @ccab @wolywolymoley @wwebaby657 @billhaderstan420 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @elvispresleywife @ellie-24 @hollbunn @sassanoe @gothicphantom @fallinlovewithurlove @astralheart21 @elvisbf @slimerspengler @octobers-snow @meetmeatyourworst @reddie-freddie @kxnnxy @lana-4life

[jhoneybees]

Faraway comfort

Characters: (70s)CG!Elvis and little!Reader

Prompt: You slip into little headspace during Elvis' show but fortunately he notices and tries his best to comfort you when he can't physically.

Warnings/triggers: little headspace, age regression(let me know if I've missed any)

Hope you like it :)

_____________________________________________

Your head has been feeling fuzzy ever since waking up this morning, Elvis would just say to stay in bed and he would pamper you but cancelling his shows in the process so he could give all his attention to you was something you felt guilty of.

Elvis is the type of caregiver to do anything for his little and giving up on his shows to just take care of you is one of the many things he would do. He'd do anything, even if it makes you feel incredibly guilty. You did try talking to him about it but he would just shake his head and tell you to sit on his lap, sighing as you obliged.

Elvis knew you would often feel that way but he always made you his top priority and didn’t want to worry your pretty little head, missing a couple of shows wouldn't do any harm, he would say.

You would usually tell Elvis if you ever feel floaty or fuzzy but this time you decide not to say anything and just suck it up, you told yourself. Elvis having to attend many events, he often asks you if you wanted to join which this time he asked in the bathroom as he was shaving, you accepted with a nod and a false smile, slightly surprised that he didn't catch onto your body language, you thought your smile was unconvincing but he simply just nodded back and gave you a kiss on the forehead before turning back to his task in hand.

Your head grew fuzzier and fuzzier as the day went on, snapping yourself back to reality everytime someone speaks to you and having to ask them to repeat what they said. Elvis noticed something was off so he asked you if you were ok, earning a fake enthusiastic nod and a series of “mhm” and “I’m alright” which he replied with squinted eyes, feeling a bit of suspicion.

By the end of a long day of attending events with Elvis, your head was screaming for a lay down but you just brushed it off before you got yourself ready to watch Elvis’ performance. You didn’t want to bother Elvis with your regressing this week since he dealt with it the entirety of last week.

The performance was starting soon so you and Elvis headed down before separating in the hallway, backstage. You quietly walked into the theatre room and went to your table that was accompanied by a couple of officials that Elvis were close with. The lights dimmed and the opening riff started playing, everything was going smoothly during the performance. The girls were cheering and laughing at Elvis’ humorous jokes and irresistible charms but due to the loud music and people surrounding you, that fuzziness in your head was starting to get harder to ignore. You shouldn’t regress here of all places, not when Elvis is on stage- entertaining the crowd, you inhale sharply and look down at your lap. Beginning to play with the hem of your dress nervously. The people at your table glance at you now and again but don’t think of asking if you are okay, which makes you feel relieved since you would break down crying if they end up asking.

As Elvis sings, his eyes land on you with your head lowered. He watched as you played with the hem of your dress for a bit before he looked back to the rest of the audience but kept his eyes on you. You feel a pair of eyes staring so you lift your head up slightly to scan the room and then you stop when you see Elvis’ stare. Walking around as he sings, Elvis gives you a nod and mouths “Are you good?” your eyes soften and you finally shake your head, Elvis’ eyebrows furrow ever so slightly and he thinks of what could be wrong with you. You watch as his hand goes up into the air, index and thumb connected to form a little circle before unconnecting making a broken circle, you knew what that meant. Ever since you told Elvis about your regressing, you two created a way to let Elvis know if you were little or not when he couldn't talk to you directly so as you see that hand signal you raise your hand from under the table and form a connected circle with your fingers, your eyes glancing over at the others at your table to make sure they don't see. Elvis gives you a smile along with a nod and he turns his head towards the backstage to signal Jerry who knows about your age regression. Jerry replies with a thumbs up and takes off to go get you.

Jerry quickly takes you from your table whilst excusing you and himself before taking you backstage to Elvis' dressing room, the show finally ends and Elvis hurries to find you. Barging in loudly to see you laying on the floor, happily colouring in a pretty picture and Jerry kneeling beside you. As he walks towards you he thanks his friend making Jerry leave the room. Elvis grunts and groans as he sits down on the floor beside you and pats your hair softly. “How's my baby hm?” You turn your head and immediately a big grin appears “Daddy!” Elvis chuckles and you giggle cutely before continuing colouring your picture. Patting away the sweat from his face with the towel around his neck, he sighs deeply and speaks again “Why didn't you tell me, you was little honey?” his low sultry voice that has a slight firmness to it making you pout “Didn't wanna bother daddy..” you reply quietly. Elvis clicks his tongue “Honey, you know this. Always tell daddy when your head feels fuzzy…you don't bother me at all baby” all you could do was nod your head silently and go back to colouring. Elvis sighs again and continues patting your hair, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “But ‘s all good now..” he says in a softer tone.

[mooodyblue]

hello!!

could I request little!reader x 70s!cg!elvis where reader is at one of his shows in the crowd, and starts to slip due to being overwhelmed and overstimulated, so Jerry (who knows about the regression and picked up on the signs) takes her backstage and Elvis comforts her after the show?

thank you 🫶🏻

pairing: little!gn!reader x 70s!elvis

wc: 1.3k

-> masterlist

normally, you opt out of going to elvis’s shows and when you do want to go—elvis is against the idea because he knows you. his screaming adoring fans, the loudness of the band and his gorgeous voice filling your ears all at once could be a bit overwhelming to someone like you. he never minded one bit. in fact, he thought he was doing you a favor by restricting you from coming to his shows. he was awfully protective of you and you didn't mind it one bit.

he brought you along to vegas for what felt like his millionth show at the international, keeping you cooped up in the penthouse while he did his obligatory duties as a performer. you always wondered what his shows were like. anytime you hung out with his friends and his band, they'd go on and on about how good the show was. it bummed you out, you wanted to be part of the magic too. 

so, you brought it up to elvis one day. he said no, but you begged and begged until he caved and said fine, but that jerry would be keeping a close eye on you the whole night. luckily you liked jerry. 

he set out a cute outfit for you and told you to get yourself dolled up, peppering you with tiny kisses before he left to head downstairs to perform. you looked lovely just for him, all to show that elvis was yours and nobody else's. you were genuinely excited about watching elvis perform today too, being seated in the vip section beside jerry per elvis's request. 

you were being big just for elvis. you wanted to enjoy the night, maybe have a few cocktails, and sneak in a peck on the lips when he came around during love me tender. 

but you didn't realize how loud it really got inside that small room. girls were screeching elvis’s name, shouting all sorts of commands and demands from him, the feedback from the mic occasionally piercing your ears (and elvis joking about it to the ground later on)....it began to make you anxious, a weird feeling in your brain and stomach taking over you all at once.

it only got worse once love me tender began to play, everyone quickly standing up and trying to get a piece of elvis as he wandered around the room. he didn't even make it over to you which bummed you out even more. 

this concert wasn't how you thought it be and part of you was beginning to realize that elvis was right. it was too much for you.

“y/n?”

your leg began bouncing up and down frantically under the table, your fingers nervously fidgeting with nothing as you rocked yourself back and forth gently. your brain was getting fuzzy now, which made you panic even more. this was the worst place for you to slip, you didn't even know what to do in this situation. you quickly covered your ears in a panic.

“hey, y/n?” 

the fuzziness took over and you quickly darted your head to jerry, his eyes concerned as he looked at you. he placed a gentle hand on your back, “hey, you okay?” 

part of you wanted to lie and say yes, not wanting to be a big baby and leave early because you were again proven wrong. jerry already got his answer, you gave in and shook your head with your hands still on your ears, feeling tears begin to brim at your eyes. 

god, you were so embarrassed. you needed elvis right this instant. you needed him to come off that stage, run over to you and pull you into his big, safe arms. 

he couldn't, though. he had a duty to fulfil.

jerry sighed, whispering something over to another one of elvis's friends before getting up with you, taking your hand ushering you through the aisles, and bringing you to elvis’s dressing room. he quietly shut the door behind you and crouched down as you sat on the sofa, noticing your breathing becoming a bit too quick for his liking.

jerry rubbed at your arm, “hey, there. hey. it’s alright. you're alright.” 

“w-want daddy.” you cried softly, a sob accidentally leaving your throat. 

“i know ya do, hon.” he frowned. “he’s almost done, i’ll sit right here with ya until he comes back out. that sound good to you?” 

jerry had such a soothing way with his words every time he spoke. he was sometimes a bit awkward with you, but he was the youngest in his friend group. you had to give him a bit of credit for being able to take care of you too. it wasn't the same as elvis though. 

“o-okay.” you sniffled, still unable to control your choked-out sobs as you rubbed at your ears—an annoying ringing sound pulsating right through them. meanwhile, jerry couldn't wait for that damn concert to end. 

he didn't know how to kill time, instead awkwardly rubbing your back and trying to have a conversation with you. “so….what's your favorite color?”

at least he tried.

it did help in some ways, your sobbing calmed down—just tears still falling down your cheeks as you tried to interact with jerry. 

but in no time, elvis was back in his dressed room, sweaty and panting heavily after another tiring show. to his surprise, he saw you on the couch, cheeks red and eyes swollen from crying. elvis furrowed his brows, looking at you and jerry. “what happened here?” 

“it was a lil’ too overwhelming for ‘em.” jerry replied.

no words came out of your mouth, glancing up at elvis as you started to cry—immediately making grabby hands for elvis as you usually did when you desperately wanted his attention. 

“oh, my poor lil’ baby. what's goin’ on, little one? hm?” he walked up to you, crouching down and ruffling your hair. “was it too much for yer lil’ ears?” as much as he wanted to admit that he was right, his heart broke at the sight of you. 

you nodded, knuckling at your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. he immediately held you, rubbing your back and shushing you gently. his eyes met with jerry’s as he mouthed a quick thank you and gestured for him to go ahead and let them be.

jerry gave him a thumbs up and headed out, leaving the two of you alone in elvis’s dressing room. elvis pulled away and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips turning into a pout. “no more cryin’ now, ya hear? daddy's right here. shows done, everyone's gone. no more loud noises.” he assured you in a soft tone. 

elvis was understanding in situations where you were overwhelmed, although he felt he could never find the proper way to calm you down—he was grateful just his presence was enough for you to let your brain slow down for a few moments. “what do you wanna do, lil? sit here for a min’ or do ya wanna go upstairs with your daddy?” 

you let out a sniffle, looking down into your lap. “wanna spend time with daddy.” 

his lips formed into a smile and his hand rubbed at your arm gently, “then that's exactly what you're gonna do, baby. c'mon, darlin’.” he stood up and took your hand, going straight to the elevator that took him up to his room. “how ‘bout a lil’ bit of room service? you hungry?” he asked, trying to get your mind off things. 

“yeah…okay.” you said quietly, leaning yourself against him with your head on his shoulder. “i want apple juice.” 

“apple juice, huh?” he grinned, holding you close. “i think i can arrange that. think i got a sippy cup somewhere, can't have my wittle baby makin’ a mess, can we?” 

“no, daddy.” you shook your head. “messes are bad!” 

“that's right, honey.” he grinned, pressing his lips against your temple. 

once the two of you arrived back to his room—he got you into some comfy pajamas and ordered food. he put some cartoons on for you, making sure you were comfy and cozy with your teddy as he spent the rest of his night comforting you and bringing you the peace that you desperately needed from an overwhelming day.

[mooodyblue]

Hi lily I'm having a rough night so i was wondering if it was okay that I request something that will make me feel better.

What about cg!e with a little that HATES change (me) And maybe the big change is E has been home for longer than normal and all of a sudden he has to go back on tour and reader HATES THAT so she has a big meltdown when El tells her he has to go back and he reminds her they have a routine on tour too and that it'll be the same as last time (so not a lot is changing) ?

I hope this makes sense

miss you xo - kiwi

hope u feel better :( <3 ty for the request!! hopefully i can cheer u up a bit with this ~~

pairing: 70s!cg!elvis x gn!little!reader

wc: 942

➸masterlist

elvis knew you never did well with change, so of course when he sat through another tedious meeting with the colonel, you wouldn’t be happy with the news he was just given.

he’d been on a break from touring for a little longer than usual, surprisingly due to doctors orders. he spent a bit of time with you in hawaii then flew back to memphis, getting plenty of alone time with you now that he had a bit of time to take care of little you. 

you had a strict everyday routine with him. breakfast together, lunch together, snack time together, and so forth. the two of you always watched cartoons together and he adored watching you play happily in front of him every day. unfortunately, that routine was about to change.

his health wasn’t great, however, it was good enough for the colonel to make him go back on another long US tour. he wished that if he had to suffer through another long, agonizing tour that he’d at least go overseas, but that was just a dream that would never come true. now it left him with the plan of telling you. 

he stepped back into his home, immediately being jumped on by you with an excited squeal. he hated that he was about to crush your spirits. “hey, baby. what’re you doin’, huh?” he chuckled, picking you up and kissing your rosy cheeks. 

“can we play now, daddy? please?” you begged, giving him sweet, puppy dog eyes.

“ah—darlin’,” he sighed, putting you down and crouching down to make you appear smaller. he took his glasses off and hung them up on his shirt, taking your hands and looking you straight in the eyes. “baby, this is real hard for me to say. i need you to be big ‘n strong for me, alright?” 

the look of worry on your face broke his heart. “the colonel says he’s sendin’ me out on another tour. daddy’s goin’ away for a little ‘while.”

you felt like your whole world was about to collapse. an ache in your chest as you realized your life was about to change up again. you loved the routine that the two of you shared. you didn’t do well when things had to change. “no.” you shook your head, “no, daddy. no.” you said sternly. 

he wished it was that easy to just say no to the colonel, but he couldn’t. he squeezed your hands again, giving you a sympathetic look. “baby–”

“no!” you pulled away from him, “change is bad, daddy! it’s bad!” you hugged yourself, shaking your head again. “y-you hafta stay! you-you’re my daddy, you can’t….no!” you dropped yourself to the floor, the waterworks already flowing down your cheeks as you began to kick your feet angrily like a helpless toddler—but that’s exactly what you were in your state of mind. he knew it too. 

elvis was at a loss for words, unsure of whether he should attempt to calm you down or to let you ride out this meltdown of yours. he got down on the floor with a soft grunt, “hey, hey. c’mon, honey–look at me, look at daddy for a sec.” he cooed softly, trying to take your hands again. your eyes met with his, full of tears and sadness. almost fear, afraid that once the routine changed, everything would just go bad. 

“you remember the last time daddy went on tour?” he asked, getting a nod from you in response. “daddy didn’t leave you alone at home, did he?” 

“w-well….no…” you muttered.

“that’s right, honey. he didn’t.” the corner of his lip perked up, bringing you close to him as you leaned against his chest. he rocked you on a soothing motion, trying to calm you down to the best of his ability. “you think daddy’s gonna let ya sit at home by yourself this time around?” he shook his head, “ain’t no way, baby.”

he pet your hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to your scalp. “we always have the same routine when we go on tour, don’t we? you just gotta let daddy do what he’s gotta do durin’ the day before we can get to playin’ and snoozin’ all day.”

“b-but i won’t see you as much…” you pouted, looking off into the distance.

“i know, angel. i know. that’s the sucky part, but we get through it every time, don’t we? hm?” he kissed your scalp again, smiling softly. he turned you to face him, using his thumb to wipe the tears off your cheeks. “it took us some time to get into the routine you and i got goin’ on right now. we just gotta get back into the old one. then once tour ends, we come right back to this ol’ routine. think you can handle that?”

you sniffled, wiping your snotty nose with your sleeve as you nodded slowly. “it’s hard.”

“it is, baby. i hate it too. but we gotta do things we don’t like.” he frowned, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “can daddy get a big kiss?”

there was hesitation in your eyes, clearly grumpy and unhappy with the situation. he sighed dramatically, forcing a pout on his face. “c’mon, honey. you that mad at daddy, huh? that mean you don’t love your old man, no more?”

you gasped, “daddy!” you pecked his cheek, cupping his plush cheeks with your small hands. “i still love you, daddy! i promise! i promise!”

he chuckled softly, returning the kiss and ruffling your hair. “that’s my baby.” he grinned, “now, lets get up off this dirty floor and have a lil’ snack.”