#austin!elvis x black!reader

[mamasturn]

send you away, major gale cleven

pairing: major gale cleven (masters of the air) x black fem oc (eden marie cleven)

content: eden is anxious about having to be separated from her husband when he reveals that he has to serve in England.

an: I was burnt out from writing elvis content, but, now we're on masters of the air content, yay!

“I’m sorry, baby, but I gotta go.” His voice was a song sung by an old church choir; soothing, warm like her mama’s hugs, then it got disruptive. Like the snares of the drums as the song reached a climax. “They need us in England.” 

The pained look on her face would be engrained in his mind forever. There would be no way for him to forget it. Her thick eyebrows eat in a deep frown, pushing the rest of her features further down. Her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes, glistened with tears. She refused to blink. The gentle rivers would transition to monstrous waterfalls with no dam to keep them at bay. And her lips, full and swollen from tender kisses, quivered as she clenched her jaw to keep her composure. 

“For how long?” Her voice was quiet. Gale sighed heavily and ran a heavy hand through his hair. If he had an answer, he’d give it to her. But, his silence spoke loud enough. She hummed and brushed his hand off her lap and began to trudge upstairs. A defeated sigh came from him. 

“E,” Gale called out. He followed her up the wooden steps. “Eden!” 

His large hand palmed their bedroom door that threatened to push him out. The lamp on her side of the bed was on, the blankets on the left side were pulled back, and she stood in front of the mounted mirror brushing her freshly pressed hair. Her sad expression had morphed into one like stone. He could see her jaw tick as each second passed. 

Gale took slow steps toward her. He could only imagine what she was thinking. Her husband, whom she’d only been married to for six months, was being shipped off to England to assist them in bringing down Germany. How coulde she not be upset? 

Gale stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. His advances didn’t keep her from wrapping her hair and tossing her satin scarf around her head. He leaned down, nose brushing against the shell of her ear. Eden’s breath hitched. His lips followed, pecking at the sensitive area below her ear. He pulled at her skin with his teeth and she whimpered softly, her hand falling on top of his. “Gale…” A warning. 

“Talk to me,” he pleaded. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she said after some time. “I knew what I got into when I married you but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared, Gale!” Finally, she turned to meet his gaze. So big and blue, they were. Filled with sympathy and remorse. 

“I knew what I was getting into when I married you, but still! I gotta send my husband away and I don’t want to think about the day where someone could knock on the door telling me--”

Gale shushed her softly and pressed her body against his in a tight embrace. His warm hand gripped her chin and tapped softly. She met his eyes. “So let’s not think about that. I leave in three weeks. We’re gonna focus on making these three weeks worthwhile, and we’ll cross the other bridge when we get to it. But I’ll always be with you one way or another, you know that, darlin’. You do know that, don’t you?”

Eden nodded. Gale raised an eyebrow. “I know, baby.” 

Gale hummed and drew invisible lines along the bare skin other thigh. The lace of her slip tickled her leg. His hand inched up slowly. “How about we practice for that final send off?” 

Eden smiled knowingly and broke away from him, peeling the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders her bare body on display. “C’mon, we’ve got all night.” 

All night indeed.

[undevidedattentionsblog]

It's Valentine's Day where are the fics at???😒

[isthlsfate]

*ೃ༄ The Girl Who Spit Flowers

warnings: slow burn, angst, mentions of puke, some dialogue taken directly from the movie, time skips, mentions of death, hanahaki disease :’)

pairing: elvis presley/austin!elvis x reader

word count: 4k

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘56

“ellis presley, blue moon boys, you’re up next.” the stage manager calls towards scotty as he rushes backstage, guitar in hand. he pushes the back door open and descends the stairs, where bill is staring at a poster with their name on it.

the latter lets out a scoff, “ellis presley…got a nice ring to it.”

scotty chuckles and motions for bill to follow him back towards elvis, dixie, gladys, and vernon. gladys gives the boys a kind smile before returning her attention back to her son.

“w-what if i forget the words on live radio? i ain’t no jimmy rogers snow.” elvis panics, sipping on the cola dixie had grabbed for him, “a-and where the hell is (y/n)?! ian’ going on without her!”

dixie looks up at him dejectedly as he hands the bottle of cola back to her, it suddenly feeling like a bag of bricks.

she always felt like she was competing with you. elvis would tell her that you were no more than a friend, but she wasn’t blind. the way you looked at him spoke stories.

“no one expects you to be jimmie rogers snow.” his father speaks, avoiding answering his question.

bill nods, “it’s just a bit of clowning around.

“that’s how we got this thing started in the first place.” scotty joins.

gladys rubs her son’s arm reassuringly, “scotty and bill are right, elvis. you’re not out there on your own. you boys are a band. the lord gave us music to bring people together. we’re like a family, and family’s the most important thing of all.”

“the family ain’t complete without (y/n).” elvis snaps, his nerves getting the best of him. as if on cue, you come through the door and trudge down the steps. your hands are visibly shaking as you wipe the corners of your mouth and force a smile. everyone but elvis seems to notice your unusual demeanor.

you force an awkward laugh, “sorry, i got caught up watching that snow boy on stage.”

elvis frowns at that and immediately opens his mouth to complain. his mother, however, rubs the back of his neck and cuts him off.

“if the good lord wants to speak through song here tonight, we are but vessels of His will. come on now, booby.” she motions for everyone to come in closer, “jesse is shining bright tonight.”

the elder woman looks up into the sky, the rest of the group following suit. she leads in song as one-by-one, they all join.

♪ some glad morning…

when this life is over…

i’ll fly away…

i’ll fly away, oh glory…

i’ll fly away, i’ll fly away…

i’ll fly away, i’ll fly away… ♪

as the song comes to a finish, sam walks through the door followed by marion.

“better get on up! they’ve just made a big announcement about you on the radio.” he says, his face seemingly just as pale as elvis’.

“folks are real excited!” marions quips before nudging him, “sam, don’t look so worried.”

elvis and his family make their way up the stairs, him and the band heading backstage while the rest go find some seats. before you can part with the others, the raven haired boy grabs you by the arm.

“why’d ya disappear like that?” he glares, his blue eyes dark.

you look back at the others nervously, but elvis is quick to grab your chin and make you face him.

“don’t look at them, look at me. what’s going on with you lately?”

“i-”

“elvis come on, we’re on!” scotty calls, saving you from a conversation you weren’t ready to have.

as he walks away, he mouths, “we ain’t done.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊

that night after the show, you, dixie, vernon, and elvis sat at the table awaiting supper. the show was exhilarating, and while you wanted so badly to talk to elvis about it, you didn’t want him asking any more questions about where you’d ran off to. you watch with a bitter taste in your mouth as he and dixie sit close to one another, whispering about something.

you can only sit and watch for so long before you abruptly stand up and head towards the kitchen where gladys is.

“need help with anything?” you speak softly so as to not startle her. she looks up at you and notices the wetness in your eyes. before you can react, she’s pulling you into a loving hug.

“oh, honey. he’ll come to his senses soon.”

you sigh. at times, you wished you had been better at hiding it. gladys promised to keep your secret, but having someone know meant you were being watched. any time you had to step away, any time you randomly skipped supper, she knew. that somehow made what you were going through ten times more painful.

later on, as you all sat at the table eating, elvis cleared his throat.

“i’m gonna be joinin’ hank snow on his tour.”

you choke on your soup, gaining the attention of everyone. feeling the thickness in your throat, you run to the bathroom and lock the door.

“so, without so much as a word to your daddy and me, you quit your job to run around in that rickety jalopy, speeding down dangerous road, getting girls all hopped up.” you can hear the anger in gladys voice as you sit on the tiled floor, head against the toilet. you blink slowly, trying to gain the energy to walk out and put a smile on your face.

“...soon, you’ll be drinking, going off to them slut parties–”

“mama!” elvis cuts her off. you can’t help but feel another painful wave of nausea at the thought.

a knock at the door startles you. you quickly flush the toilet, rinse your mouth, and unlock the door.

“dixie?”

she pushes herself in and locks the door behind her. you stand uncomfortably against the bathroom counter, having never been left alone with her. you knew she didn’t really like you; you had the luxury of knowing elvis since he was a young boy. you were special to him, and she didn’t like that.

“what is going on between you and elvis?” she leans against the door with her arms crossed. you can still hear the commotion going on at the table.

“what do you mean? i–we grew up together, he’s my best friend.”

she scoffs, her face turning a nasty shade of pink.

“are you pregnant with his child or somethin’?”

you can’t help but let out an exasperated laugh. you quickly cover your mouth as you notice the serious look on her face.

“i’m not pregnant, dixie.”

“then what’s with all the runnin’ away, throwin’ up, whisperin’ to gladys?”

your blood runs cold. you should’ve been more careful. you watch as her eye seemingly catches onto something near the toilet.

“shit, (y/n).” is all she says, her angry expression softening. there on the creme colored tiles lays a lone flower petal.

“please don’t tell him.” is all you can get out, tears already threatening to leave your sullen eyes.

“oh, i won’t.” dixie scoffs, “it’s not like there’s anything you can do anyway. elvis is mine.”

the sound of a door slamming causes the both of you to jump. dixie gives you one last glare before leaving you alone. you topple over and choke out some more petals.

as elvis’ career began to skyrocket, your friendship pummeled. you heard from gladys that elvis had broken things off with dixie right before the school formal. she sounded hopeful, but you knew better.

time flew, and the pain refused to suffice.

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘57

gladys ended up asking you to move in with her and vernon permanently. you had stayed in and out of the presley residence since you were thirteen, but by age eighteen you felt you were burdening them and slept on a cot on the upper level of club handy, it was yours in exchange for some labor.

you accepted her offer only because you knew how lonely she was while her son was out and about. you were lonely too.

one morning, elvis came barging in, his pearly whites on show. you were sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal, startled by the loud noise.

“how ya been, darlin’?” he asks, pulling you up from your chair into a warm embrace.

“good. your mama’s missed you.”

he pulls away with a chuckle, “you say that as if ya didn’t.”

before you can argue, gladys emerges from her room and gives her son a big hug. vernon comes soon after and pats the boy on the back.

“i’ve got a surprise for y’all.”

that day, elvis showed you all your new home. graceland.

𓍊𓋼𓍊

“i see you’ve been gettin’ in a bit of trouble.” you chuckle, handing the raven haired boy a newspaper you had collected. he stands up from his spot on your room floor and joins you on your bed. it’d been a while since you two had spent time together.

elvis doesn’t speak for a while, causing you to look over at him with furrowed brows. you nudge his arm gently.

“you alright satnin?” the nickname slips, but elvis doesn’t seem to mind. he turns onto his side and sighs.

“the colonel says i might be gettin’ drafted.”

the air in your room seems to fall still, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“t-that’s insane! you ain’t did nothin’ wrong but express yourself. your own mama thinks it’s okay!” you sit up from the bed and begin pacing, chewing on your lip, “i oughta give that man a piece of my mind!”

you make a move to leave the room, but elvis grabs your arm.

“it’s no use, darlin’. i followed my heart and i gotta pay the price.” he runs a hand through his hair, a sign that his nerves were getting the best of him. you grab his hand and smile reassuringly albeit the pain you felt in your chest.

“how long will you be gone for?”

“two years.”

“two years?!” you shout back, causing the boy to cover your mouth with his hand.

“goddamn (y/n), you want the whole world to hear? i haven’t even told mama yet.”

you look up at the blue eyed boy with sad eyes, your body noticeably relaxing as you realize how badly he needs a friend right now.

elvis drops his hand from your mouth and allows you to fall into his arms, your arms wrapping tightly around him so as to not let him go.

he sniffles, resting his chin in your hair.

“i’ll look after her, e. i promise.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊

not even six months after elvis was gone, you had found gladys unconscious at the top of the steps. your heart shattered as you fell to your knees, trying to wake the elder woman up.

you couldn’t help the sobs that ripped painfully through your soul. not only had you lost someone who was like a mother figure to you, you had broken your promise to elvis”

vernon came running up the stairs at the sound of your cries, his shaky hands pulling you away from her as he too tried to wake her.

it was no use.

on august 14th, 1958, you had lost the one person who knew of your condition and loved you through it.

elvis came back home for a brief period of time, but it was like seeing a ghost. you stayed to yourself, not having the strength to face him. you knew you should’ve been there for him, but every time you convinced yourself to go, you’d find yourself not able to leave the threshold of your door.

not too long after gladys’ passing, grandma dodger was gone too.

graceland had become the shell of a home. it was typically only you and vernon in the home, cousin billy occasionally making an appearance.

a year passed. you busied yourself with work, going back to bussing tables at club handy.

you hadn’t been sick as much, which seemed to be the only plus to elvis being gone. there were some nights, however, when you would think too hard about what he was probably doing in germany and found yourself coughing up petals.

by the time he had returned, seeing elvis was like seeing a stranger.

you all would eat supper together, but the table was silent.

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘63

today was a day like any other, the three of you sitting at the table, listening to the cheerful sounds from cousin billy and his friends outside.

“‘cilla is movin’ in pretty soon.” elvis speaks after he swallows a bite of his food.

you keep your eyes focused on your food, your throat starting to feel thick.

“that’s great, son! when’s the wedding?”

at the sound of those words, you can’t bear to hear anymore. you excuse yourself from the table and walk to your room.

your stomach churns at the thought of living here, hopelessly in love with your childhood best friend as he married another. it didn’t help that your room was right below his.

your thoughts run wild, tears wetting your eyes as you look around the room and begin frantically throwing stuff into a suitcase.

you can’t stay. it’ll kill you.

with tears still running down your face you make your way into the hall bathroom, grabbing a couple of toiletries to bring along with you.

what you don’t expect is to turn around and walk straight into a strong chest.

“just where do ya think you’re goin’?” his thick southern accept sends a chill down your spine.

you muster enough strength to look him in the eye despite the tears still visibly falling.

“i think it’s about time i go out on my own.” you quickly brush past him and head back to your room, but elvis is hot on your tail.

“no one said you had t’do that.”

“i did.” you continue packing your stuff, more furiously than before, “you haven’t even paid me any mind since mama died. i’m not stayin’ here feelin’ like a burden any longer.”

elvis snatches your suitcase from you, not paying any mind to the contents that spray all over. his usually lively blue eyes are dark, storms thundering in them.

“you were the one who stopped payin’ me any mind.”

you ignore him, bending down to pick up your items. you continue to walk around him, packing more things as he stands there, discontent radiating from his body.

the taller male grabs you by the arm, keeping you in place right in front of him.

“look at me, darlin’.”

you obey almost immediately, your lip quivering.

elvis’ eyes seem to look at you, really look at you for the first time in years. he hadn’t noticed how frail you’d gotten, how your (e/c) eyes were sunken and dull, how your seemed like you were struggling just to stand. he frowns, wiping a few tears from your cheeks.

“why’re you leavin’ me, (y/n)?”

“i—“

but its cut off by a gag, and the sudden urge to run. he follows you, but youre too fast, slamming the bathroom door in his face and locking it tight.

his head rests against the door as he listens to you retch, his chest constricting in pain at the sound of your cries.

“satnin, you’ve gotta tell me what’s goin’ on.” he calls, but you don’t respond. he stands there for a solid thirty minutes before getting impatient and going to the kitchen to find something to pick the lock with.

the sight before him makes him immediately fall to his knees beside you.

it seemed like you had no energy to even open your eyes, your head laid against the toilet, the contents of your stomach still threatening to escape.

“i’m sorry.” your voice is barely above a whisper, cracky and pained.

the raven haired male brings you to his lap, holding your head against his chest as he reassures you it’ll all be okay.

he couldn’t help but look into the toilet in fear.

no longer were there tiny petals, but full on flowers.

𓍊𓋼𓍊

“how’s (y/n) doing?” priscilla asks her boyfriend, the two of them sat at the table for breakfast.

despite your protests, he had told you to stay. you were too weak to do anything, your condition worsening once priscilla officially moved in.

elvis hadn’t said anything to you about that night, only making sure that the maids brought you food and checked on you hourly.

“she says she’s alright, but she looks worse then ever.”

“do you know who it is?”

elvis only shakes his head, oblivious to the obvious.

“i’m gonna go check on her.” the brunette says softly, leaving a long kiss on elvis’ cheek before heading down the hall.

she knocks gently, hearing a soft and raspy come in from the other side of the door.

you smile at her, sitting up in bed to let her sit next to you. despite the pain it caused you, you could tell that priscilla was good for elvis.

unlike dixie, she cherished the fact that he had grown up with you, always including you and even taking the time to get to know you.

“you doing alright, (n/n)?” she rests her hand on yours, holding it gently.

“i know you know, ‘cilla.” you sigh, a sad expression on your face, “and i’m so sorry. i wish i could change it. i wish it was anyone but him.”

priscilla tuts, “don’t say that, love. we can’t control who we fall for.”

“did you tell him? he seems distant.”

“he’s just really worried for you, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. i know you guys had a rough patch but you’ve always had a special place in his heart. he used to tell me stories about your childhood all the time in germany.” the brunette hands you the glass of water on your nightstand as she notices you struggling to clear your throat, “you should tell him now, (y/n).”

you quickly shake your head, “it won’t change anything. he loves you.”

“quite frankly i think he’s just settling for me.” the girl chuckles solemnly, “i wont let you die without having tried. i’ll tell him to come to you now.”

priscilla doesn’t give you a chance to turn her down, leaving a small peck on your forehead and rushing out the room.

minutes later, elvis comes in with a concerned look.

“‘cilla said you needed me. you alright, doll?”

you nod, motioning for him to join you on your bed. he obeys, sliding his shoes off and sitting criss cross applesauce beside you. you can’t help but giggle at the sight, his long limbs looking uncomfortable.

you grab his hand once he’s situated, not able to ignore the wince as he notices your frail hand.

“there’s something i need to tell you.”

“what is it, (y/n)?”

“i’m sure you’ve been rackin’ your brain tryna figure out why i have this disease.” you sigh, acknowledging the small nod he gives you, “a-and i’m sorry i kept it hidden from you for so long. i first found out about it when i turned eighteen. it was little petals here and there, and i would only cough. b-but as time passed, it progressed. it didn’t take long for me to connect the dots. for me to realize that it was happening because i…”

elvis looks at you expectantly, having craved this moment since he held you on that bathroom floor.

“you can tell me, baby. i want to help you anyway i can.” he brushes a lone tear off your cheek.

“it was happening because i fell in love with you.”

you close yours, not strong enough to look in your best friend’s eyes and see nothing but rejection. you’re surprised when you feel his hand caress your cheek.

“open your eyes, darlin’.”

and you do. and your pounds at how close he is to you, how his eyes search your face desperately for signs of a lie. you furrow your brows.

“why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

elvis laughs, a few tears springing to his eyes. “cause it’s always been you.”

“don’t do that.” you beg, “i’ve known you for forever elvis. i watched you go after women day and night.”

“because i thought i couldn’t have you, (y/n). like you said, you’ve known me for forever. i didn’t think you could see me as anything more than family.”

you laugh at that, bewildered at the secrets suddenly coming to light. had you really been so blind?

“‘member when we were kids, livin’ at the home on audubon? mama had set up a lil makeshift tent for us in the backyard and we would spend every weekend in it?”

you nod, “what about it?”

“th-there was one weekend when we decided to stay the night out there, and we were watching the stars. i looked over at you a-and i just knew. i even told mama that morning i was gon’ marry you one day.”

you giggle through your tears, searching his eyes for truth and finding all of the above.

“why’d it take so long, e?” you whimper, the memories of all those lonely nights of pain and puking resurfacing.

“i lost who i was, baby. at first i was just scared, and then all of a sudden my career took off, then mama died, and i…i’m so sorry.”

he rests his forehead against yours, pulling your weak body into him.

you want to kiss him. you want to seal the deal now. you’re ready to spend the rest of your life with him, not wanting to waste another second.

but, “what about priscilla?”

elvis sighs, about to open his mouth to speak but the girl herself cuts him off.

“priscilla will be okay.” she says from the doorway, her own set of tears collecting in her eyes, “i’m just glad you’ll live, (n/n).”

you force yourself to get up, legs shaky as you make your way to the brunette and engulf her in a hug.

“thank you so much.” you sniffle.

“i’m going to go pack.” she smiles grievously, “i’d better get going.”

you nod, making your way back to your bed. elvis gives you a look and you nod, watching as he quickly follows after her.

“‘cilla.” he calls, stopping her on the steps.

“it’s okay, elvis. i knew the moment you started talking about her that it wasn’t meant to be.”

“can i at least have one of my men drive you?” he asks.

priscilla doesn’t see a point in opposing, so she nods. the taller of the two nods as well, before taking her into a gentle hug.

“you’re always welcome here, okay?”

“okay.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ‘67

“hold on, let me get a picture of the newlyweds!” vernon smiles, snapping a quick shot of you and elvis.

despite his career, elvis wasted no time in taking the next steps with you. fifteen years was too long to have missed with you, so he made time for you everyday.

you look over at the man before you, amazed at how much more handsome he’d gotten throughout the years. your heart was pounding happily in your chest, still half expecting this to be a dream.

your wedding was small, held in the meditation garden at graceland.

as your reception came to a close and guests began to leave, you and elvis held one another, swaying to the soft music playing from the record player.

the raven haired man kisses the top of your head, your nose, your cheek, and then your lips.

you hum in content, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i love you, sugar.” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“i love you t-“ you run down the hall to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as you fall to the ground and let out a heave.

elvis, as usual, is on your tail. he rubs your back soothingly, whilst pinching his nose at the smell.

you flush the toilet and brush your teeth, heart fluttering as you look in the mirror and catch elvis eyeing you adoringly.

“mama would be proud.” he smiles, hands snaking around your wakes and resting on your tough stomach.

you can’t help but smile back, your stomach fluttering. only this time, it was the result of your love and not the lack thereof.

[dulcewrites]

What do you think about this: you work with Steve Binder for the 68 special and Austin!Elvis develops a crush on you during your time working with him? I just watched Elvis. Down bad.

Ask cont: Same anon. I forgot to add to the last request about the 68 special. OC is black and he dedicates a song (if you could call it that - trying to get to you or another song of your choosing). Thanks for taking these requests. Your writing is so good!!

Can’t Help Falling in Love

Pairing: Austin!elvis x black!reader (wc: 2730)

Requested: yes (thank you for saying you love my writing 🫶🏽, and thank you for sending this in.)

A/N: I was excited to write something from the special. If this goes well, I might still write my journalist!reader idea. Priscilla does not exist in this universe. Elvis is giving us eternal bachelor vibes till he meets the reader. In terms of timing since this is in 68 so elvis is 33 and oc/reader is 27. I want this to focus more on the behind the scenes of the special rather than the special itself. I’m pretty sure this is typo free but sorry if there is some.

There are some days you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into.

You’ve always loved tv and film. It’s why you, despite the pleading from you parent not to, moved out to California after graduating from college. You’ve been out here since then, doing odd tv jobs here and there till you met Steve Binder on a set in 65. Sheer timing, and you being probably the most determined and capable woman he’s ever met led to him hiring you as his executive assistant. You’ve worked your way up from there to a production coordinator. You were his right-hand woman.

It’s been amazing but you seem to find yourself in peculiar situations a lot of the time. Today being an example of that. You were a bit taken aback when Steve told you the meeting wouldn’t be in the office, but up in the Hollywood Hills. And then you were even more shocked as the ride went on and realized the Hollywood hills was meant… literally.

“I didn’t wear the right shoes for this,” you mutter holding onto the door after a particularly turbulent turn.

Steve looks over his orange sunglasses down to your new red slingbacks and raises an eyebrow with a smile.

“Who are you trying to impress with those,” he asks with a laugh, and you roll your eyes.

“Myself. They went on sale, and I’ve been eyeing them for a couple months.”

Your tailored black cigarette pants and your sleeveless red ruffled shirt were new and bought after convincing yourself you deserved to treat yourself. Your fashion sense was always something important to you. Looking good and looking the part helped you navigate a workspace you sometimes felt small in.

You flinch when the car comes to a extreme stop after sliding into a flat area overlooking Los Angeles. You still don’t know who you guys are supposed to be meeting; being in the dark is not something you’re used to. Steve just told you this probably wasn’t going to be a normal meeting and left it at that.

Bones, who rode in another other car, gives you two an equally quizzical glance when you all get out. The whole situation is strange. The meeting location, the cars being sent, and the accompanying men who drove you guys.

“Mr. Binder, Mr. Howe thanks for coming,” a man with aviators and shaggy hair like Steve’s says. “I’m Jerry Schilling, we spoke on the phone.”

You wait for him to introduce who he works for, but it doesn’t come; he simply walks towards the Hollywood sign.

Steve graciously holds out his arm for you to take as you guys walk on a rocky, dirt path. Yeah, you’re going to regret wearing these shoes. You all follow Jerry till you get the Hollywood sign. The man sitting in the sign has his back slightly turned toward you. All you can make out is an impeccably tailored suit and rich dark hair.

“When I first came to Hollywood, I’d come up here and sit for hours,” his voice rich and twangy. As a southern girl yourself, it reminds you a bit of home.

It wasn’t until the man turned to the group and took his sunglasses off that you realized you guys were standing in front on Elvis Presley. What could he possibly want with Steve and Bones? And honestly what the hell would Steve and Bones want with him? There are talks he’s doing some kitschy holiday special for NBC.

There’s something so.. melancholy about his dementor. Warm but slightly defeated. He takes the time to compliment the guys on their work with the T.A.M.I Show.

“Elvis, we are big fans of yours,” Steve starts earnestly. “But Christmas specials aren’t really our thing.”

Elvis nods, his eyes growing from Bones, to Steve, and then landing on you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen eyes that blue. The intensity of his eyes makes you need to hold back a shiver.

“Tell me honestly, where you think my career is at?”

You’re a little surprised he’s asking you and not the boys that. You pull your sunglasses to look him in the eye off and sigh.

“Well… it’s in the toilet Mr. Presley,” you say then wincing a bit.

It’s the truth. You personally can’t remember the last time you’ve heard someone mention Elvis for anything outside of the couple box office bombs he’s been in recently. There’s a moment of silence amongst the group, and you start to fear you’ve said the wrong thing. You’ve been around your fair share of entertainers that don’t like being told the truth.

The tension is broken when he breaks into a huge grin and gives a hearty laugh, turning to Jerry who is also laughing at your bluntness.

“See I knew this was the team I needed for this job,” he says.

Based on his tone and words you get the vibe that he isn’t used to having people around him that are honest and want to truly help him. He gets up from his seat in the sign.

“When you’re lost, people take advantage,” he has a desperate look in his eyes. “I need you guys to help me get back who I really am.”

“And what does the colonel think about all of this?” asks Bones.

“I really don’t give a damn about what the colonel this.” Elvis replies firmly.

Steve looks at you with an eyebrow raised, and you recognize that gleam in his eyes. He wants to do this. You can see the little creative gears turning that head of his. He wants to help, and you get why. There is something… horribly earnest about Elvis. Very few people of his status would even go this far to ask for help. You try not to let personal feelings affect your work but his want to get back to a happier place tug on your heartstrings a bit. You give Steve a simple nod before he turns to Bones who gives him an accepting smile.

You sigh internally as you watch Steve and Bones give Elvis handshakes in agreement. This is either going to be the best thing y’all have ever done or… you don’t even want to think of the other outcome.

“He wants what now?” you ask wondering if you heard Steve wrong.

Rehearsals for the special began in early June. You were first tasked with finding the best backup dancers and singers you could find in Los Angeles. The try outs were easy enough. Set designers had been called, and choreographers and stylist had been flown out. The show was slowly but surely coming together.

“We need trained kung fu fighters with a dance background or trained dancers with a kung fu background,” he repeats nonchalantly. “Whichever is easier to find.”

You stare at him for a second realizing he isn’t pulling your leg, and you add it to your ever growing list of things to do.

“And I need you to oversee Elvis’s outfit fitting in like 5 minutes.”

“But you love costume day,” you laugh at the disappointment on his face.

“I do,” he starts, a growing smile comes over his lips and you know where’s he’s going with this. “But he specifically asked for you. Said he trusts your opinion.”

“Don’t start.”

“I can’t believe Elvis Presley has a crush on my employee,” he laughs.

It’s been a running thing that Steve won’t let go. It started after Elvis told you during the first week of rehearsals that if every producer looked like you, he would’ve gone into tv instead of film. And the teasing got worse when you received flowers from him when he went back to Memphis for a week. Is it extremely flattering? Yes. Is it professional? God no. And if it’s one thing you are, it is professional.

“I think he’s trying to court you,” Steve shrugs. “He asked if I knew if you were more a jewelry or shoes type of woman.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“And what did you say?”

“That you like both of course.”

You roll your eyes. Well, yes that’s true…. but Elvis did not need to know that!

“I also said that though you like the finer things in life, you are not the type of woman that is bought,” Steve reassures.

That statement makes you feel a bit better. You have a lot of your plate. The last thing you need is someone trying to flirt with you just because they can. Let alone someone that’s famous and known for his womanizing. He’ll finish this special and move on to the next pair of nice legs he sees.

Hearing that he specifically asked for you makes you a little nervous for what’s in store. While you can appreciate Elvis’s commitment to bold fashion choices, you are quite sure you and him do not have the same taste.

Taking in a deep breath, you knock on the door to the studio wardrobe room.

“Come in,” a familiar voice call from within the room.

You walk in to see Bill Belew. The wide room consists of various mirrors, fabrics laying around, and different garment hanging on dress mannequins.

“Ah there you are. We are just getting started,” Bill smiles at you, making room on the couch for you. “Elvis is trying something on right now.”

You nod sitting down. You look around at some of the outfits on the mannequins. An array of different color tailored suits. As well as outfits you assume are for the backup dancers and singers. Vibrant pink miniskirts catch your eye.

“Elvis are you ready?” Bill calls to the curtained part of the room. He turns to you with a hushed voice. “We’re very excited about this outfit.”

You think of Bones words when you all sat down for the first meeting.

We need an outfit that signifies his start. Something dirty and raw. Something rebellious.

Your thoughts are broken by Elvis pulling back the curtain. You’re sure your eyebrows shot up to your hair line. He’s wearing a full leather outfit; the jacket is open slightly revealing a bit of his chest. It’s tight, it’s shiny, and frankly it’s sexy. You can’t help the smile that comes over your face. It really doesn’t get any more rebellious than full head to toe leather.

“Wow,” is all you can make out, and Elvia gives you a curious look.

“A good wow or bad wow sweetheart?”

“A very good wow,” you say honestly. “You look great really. I think the guys are going to love it.”

He looks a bit sheepish at your compliment. Bill begins doing small alterations on the suit while going over other outfits he thinks would work for the special. Despite how good he looked in the leather, your personal favorite is the burgundy suit he tries on.

By the way he looked at himself in the mirror, you can tell he’s still nervous about the whole thing. It hits again how important this is to him, to his career.

“This is going to be good,” you start when Bill leaves after the try-on session. “Steve and Bones are the best. With your talent and the guys' vision, everything will work out.”

You don’t know that for sure. In fact, this special could go very wrong but he does not need to hear that.

He doesn’t look all that convinced but none the less gives you a smile.

“You know what would make me feel a bit better,” his lowers a bit. “Dinner... with you.”

You should’ve seen that coming. All the advances he’s made leads to him wanting a date. But you’re still a little shocked he asked. You know you’re a catch, but you haven’t had someone fixate on you like this.

“Elvis, I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

“That’s the point honey, I don’t want to be appropriate with you,” he says sitting next you on the couch, his smile even brighter. “I want to very inappropriate with you.”

Despite the situation, his statements makes you laugh. He’s too charming for his own good. For your own good too.

“Let’s get through the show, and I’ll get back to you.”

Being around talented people is just one perk of your job, but it’s easily one of your favorite things about it. People in front and behind the camera, all coming together to make something beautiful. The past few days of filming the special have been no different.

There’s been some trying times so far. Your argument with Elvis’s promoter/manager being one of them. You already didn’t like that colonel guy, but after the third time (in one day) he bulldozes his way into the control editing room, you kind of lose it on him.

You don’t know how Elvis has put up with him for so long. And your distain for him only grows after seeing how he treats Elvis during the shooting.

It was Steve’s idea that Elvis should make some sort of statement on the state of the country. One thing you like about your job is the escapism of tv, especially in times like this when it feels like the world is on fire. Steve’s idea was much to the chagrin on Colonel Parker.

You feel your eyes glaze over once you hear the words ‘Christmas’ and ‘Here Comes Santa Claus’ come out of the colonel’s mouth… again. You think he might make you hate the holiday by the end of filming.

“I can take him out for you,” you joke trying to get Elvis to laugh after a particularly ugly argument between him and Colonel Parker, and he just gives you a watery smile.

“This is your career and life. You need to do what you feel is best,” you squeeze his hand. “Sometimes you have to put stuff on the line for something you believe in.”

It’s a simple statement. You know little about music, especially compared to how Elvis. It does warm your heart, and make you a bit emotional, when he sings you the lyrics to a new song. A beautiful song that clearly expresses how he feels about everything that’s going on in the world.

You had grown so close during this process. It’s hard to believe it’s coming to an end soon. If either of you had a problem or anxious feeling about something, you go to each other. But after this, he’s going to go back to Graceland, and you and Steve move onto the next project. Growing attached to projects, let alone people, is not good in this business.

More sit-down segments are being shot in front of an audience. You catch glimpses here and there of different performances as you run around fixing different small problems that pop up. You finally get a chance to breathe after going back up to the control room.

“I actually wanted to dedicate the next song to someone very special I’ve met during this time,” the words make you pause a bit.

You can feel Steve’s and Bones’s eyes on you. The all too familiar starting notes to Can’t Help Falling in Love starts playing.

Oh god

Instead of the embarrassment you expect to feel, you try not to melt in the puddle of mushy feelings. What is this man doing to you?

"Maybe you should go down," Steve whispers to you. "We can take a break after this song."

You give him a nervous look. You're toeing a dangerous line with Elvis, but Steve has never been one to tell you to back down from stressful situations. He always seems to be the one making you run to them.

You get up slowly. You probably look weird with the number of times you turned around, then turned back convincing yourself to just go down. By the time you made it down, they had stopped rolling. You and Elvis made eye contact from across the room, and you wave him over. He gives the guitar he was using for the song to one of the stagehands before walking over to you.

"That was really inappropriate," you say when he finally gets over to you. He winces clearly not expecting that reaction. "But... luckily for you, I maybe want to be inappropriate with you too."

He breaks out into grin.

"Let's talk about that dinner baby."

[powerofelvis]

DK if you take requests, or wrote this before, but how about Elvis having sex with a woc!reader for the first time? He's never been with a black girl before and he's all cute n' nervous.

Fever Dream

Pairing: Elvis x Black!Reader, Austin!Elvis x Black!Reader

Word Count: 5878

Warning(s): Fluff, Angst (if you squint), SMUT, vaginal fingering, handjob, vaginal penetration

A/N: Here it is finally! I am literally over the moon that I am able to write for my own representation. This is my first time and definitely not my last so I hope this is good. I will continue this story eventually because it’s so damn good.

————————————————————————————————-

The last place you had ever expected to be was in California with your best friend, Tamara. However, you both were huge Elvis fans–Tamara more than you. While you did love his music and his charismatic personality, you didn’t know him from the man on the moon. Tamara had managed to get two front-row seats at Elvis’s Comeback Special. That’s all she talked about for months, leading to you arriving in Burbank. You couldn’t believe it–you were literally days away from finally seeing Elvis Presley in person. While you did bring many outfits that you had never pulled out of your closet, Tamara had to force you along with her to go shopping. “Tam, now I already have clothes. I ain’t buying nothin’ else.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. California was definitely different than Georgia; the humidity didn’t mess up your curly hair.

However, you were already enjoying California. The vibes were all there, you just needed to see Elvis, and your life would be made. Tamara also ensured that you enjoyed yourself after breaking up with your toxic ex. David was sleeping around with the girls who worked at his job all because he was upset because you were not putting out. Your mama had always taught you that you had to love yourself before you could love someone else and that your purity was one of those things that you should give to the person that you loved. You weren’t sure that you loved David. You weren’t even sure that you would marry him; you just put up with him and his cheating ways because he was your first love. You had loved him once, but it was long gone as time passed.

Now that Tamara had sprung this trip on you, you were hoping that you would leave California as a new person. Seeing Elvis was the icing on the cake, but who knows? You could be staying longer than you had planned. “Let’s go run the town, Tam!” You tugged her out of the airport and into the warm California sun.

3 Days Before Comeback Special

You woke up to Tamara shaking you by the shoulders. “Wake up, silly! We got shopping to do!” She laughed as she hopped off of your bed, running into the shared bathroom of the hotel room that you both shared. Your eyes rolled, getting out of bed. “And what time is it?” You looked up at the clock that ticked on the wall. 11:30. “Well, usually your sleepy behind is still in bed. However, we are in California, so we need to have fun while we are here!” She yelled from the bathroom as she got ready. You groaned, digging through the closet as you pulled out a pink and black jumper. The matching black pumps were in your hands as Tamara walked out of the bathroom–fully dressed.

“I honestly can’t believe we are here.” You chuckled, standing in the bathroom mirror, brushing out your now lustrous and thick locks. Your hair was pretty long, even when wet. You decided to embrace your hair today, not wanting to take more time than already needed. “Alright, Tam, let’s go!” You yelled, walking out of the bathroom, grabbing your clutch and the room key. You both set out of the room, ready to paint the town with your besties' shenanigans.

Tamara decided that you both needed to go shopping at one of those nice boutiques. As you were walking down the sidewalk, listening to Tamara go on and on about another Elvis fantasy of hers, you could see a huge crowd of screaming girls in front of the store that you wanted to go into. “Now, what are we gonna do?” Tamara clicked her tongue, turning to look at you. “We are gonna get in there; we came all the way down here, and for what?” You were surprised at how you grumbled, feeling annoyed that the store was blocked in. You grabbed Tamara by the hand, pushing through all of the screaming women, before pushing open the door to the boutique. You stood in the doorway, inspecting your hair again, ensuring that those crazed lunatics didn’t mess up your afro-natural hair. However, you could have been in the same store with another lunatic because Tamara nearly knocked you over. “Tam!” You glared, falling into a body. “I’m so sorry!” You turned to the person, apologizing profusely.

There in front of you was Elvis Presley. “Holy-!” You nearly swore but bit your tongue to keep the words from pouring out. Tamara screamed, bringing you out of your thoughts as if they were a fever dream. “Tamara, don’t scream in the poor man’s face. That’s rude.” You snapped, popping her hand. “It’s quite alright, baby, do you want an autograph? Tamara, is it?” His southern drawl droned out like hot butter on a biscuit. Tamara gripped your arm, shaking you wildly as you both witnessed Elvis signing an autograph for your friend. You chuckled, allowing your friend to at least enjoy herself because it’s not every day that you meet your idol in person. “What about you, sugar?” He asked, tilting his head to look at you. “Oh no, I’m-” “Y/N! That’s her name!” Tamara yelped out, giving you a look of disbelief. She knew that you were only trying to play coy, but as your best friend, she wouldn’t let you miss out on getting Elvis’s autograph. Elvis chuckled, writing on the paper before handing you both the individual pieces that each had your name written in his infamous handwriting.

“Say, are y’all doing anything on the 3rd?” He asked, his eyes not leaving your frame. “Yes! We are actually here for the comeback special!” Tamara spoke, looking between the two of you. Tamara knew that look that Elvis was giving you–it was as if he had been enchanted by your beauty. She did agree with him because you were a beautiful woman. From your magnificently thick locks to your bronze complexion, darkly golden eyes to match. Elvis looked happy to hear this from Tamara, his icy blue eyes looking you over once again. “Well, I want to invite y’all to my house for a party after the special. Just a thank you for being sweet.” He smiled, writing down his address before handing it over to you. Your fingers reached up to take the paper from him, his fingers slightly sliding against yours. Your heart could have jumped out of your chest at the contact, but you decided to play it cool. “Well, I’m sure Tamara will be dragging me there so we can see you again.” You smiled at him.

“I hope to see you again, sugar.” He smirked before turning away to leave the store, and both of your mouths gaped.

Two Days Before Comeback Special

“You have to call him Y/N!” Tamara tells you for the 50th time since your interaction with Elvis at the boutique the day before. “And say what?” You looked over at her, popping another peanut into your mouth as you both sat on your shared bed. “Uh, how about that you would want to see him again!” She laughed, grabbing a pretzel before popping it into her mouth. “Yeah, right. He was probably just looking to score with me. I’m not stupid; the man is a damn sex symbol, for crying out loud.” You weren’t sure if you wanted to go down this road, especially with Elvis Presley. He had women throwing themselves at him left and right, so why would you be special? There was no way that he would be interested in you anyway–right?

“So? Call him, or I’ll call him for you!” She laughed as she grabbed the paper that adorned his phone number. “Alright! Alright! I’ll call ‘im.” You rolled your eyes as you walked over to the phone that sat on the bedside table. You weren’t exactly sure what to say to him, but you would call him so Tamara would leave you in peace. After pacing the floor for what felt like hours, you picked up the phone, dialing his number. It rang for what felt like forever before a voice picked up on the other end. “Hello?” The voice on the other end didn’t sound like Elvis. You were beginning to feel like he had given you the wrong number as a prank. “Uhm, is there an Elvis Presley there?” Your voice came out in a squeak, putting your hand over the bottom of the phone as you cleared your throat. “I’m sorry, is Elvis there? This is Y/N; he gave me this number.” You spoke with more confidence, biting your bottom lip. “Oh yes, let me get him for you.” The voice said before you could hear him yell out for Elvis.

“Yeah, Pa?” You could hear his southern drawl, and your heart picked up speed once again. Then you looked over at Tamara, who was still sitting on the bed, watching you closely as if she was watching her favorite movie. “It was his dad!” You mouthed, eyes wide as you realized that you were talking briefly to Vernon Presley. “Hello? Sugar?” His voice came through the phone. “Oh..hey, I was calling you because you gave me your number?” You said, biting your lip again. You looked over at Tamara, who face palmed before shaking her head. You were hopeless, you know. “Yeah, I wanted to see you again before the special, if that’s alright with ya?” He chuckled, clearly noticing how nervous you sounded over the phone. “Why do you wanna see me again exactly?” You asked, confused that he would waste his time on a girl who wasn’t even into his scene. Elvis chuckled, shaking his head as if you could see him.

Ever since he saw you, he couldn’t get you out of his head. You were standing in the boutique with your friend, playing like you were shy–-but he knew better. You were oozing confidence, and he loved that about you. Your honey molten eyes could stare into his soul, and he would open his soul for you to do so. Your bronze complexion had him on his knees; what he would give to run his hands over your body as he held you in his arms. He didn’t just want sex with you, and he wanted you to believe him, even if you didn’t. “Sugar, I really wanted to see you again. No funny business.” He swore as he played with the phone cord lying against the wall. “Let me take you out. I promise if you don’t like me afterward, I ain’t gonna bother you again.” He said seriously.

“Okay, I’ll try it out.” You gave in, wanting to see him again. You may have acted as if you were a tough nut to crack, but you would be a fool if you were to turn Elvis Presley down.

1 Day Before Comeback Special

You were sitting in the bed, watching Tamara run around the room as she tried to gather your outfit for your little date tonight with Elvis. Elvis said that he would pick you up from the hotel around 7. It was 5 PM, and you weren’t even worried in the least. “Am I the only person that is freaking out over YOUR date tonight?” She stood there, pulling at your arm before pushing you into the bathroom. “Shower girl! You need to smell good just in case he decides to try something.” She joked. “Elvis said that he’s not gonna try anything, so get your head out of the clouds because he ain’t getting in your drawers. Thank you.” You rolled your eyes before getting in the shower. Even though you weren’t freaking out on the outside, you were definitely freaking out on the inside. Once you were out of the shower, you stood in the mirror in your satin robe, grabbing your curling iron as you curled your hair. After your hair was curled, you decided to go ahead and do something simple with your makeup—something to make your complexion pop.

“Alright, Tam, what do you have for me?” You asked, walking out of the bathroom. Tamara held up a black dress that looked like it would hug all of your curves in the right places. “Elvis is gonna flip seeing you in this, girl!” Tamara smirked, passing the dress to you. “Go get ready; Elvis will be here soon!” She squealed, pushing you back into the bathroom. You chuckled, putting on the black dress before sliding on your black pumps. Since it was December, you covered up your shoulders with a shawl. You walked back out of the bathroom, posing for Tamara. “So?” You asked, sitting down in a chair as you watched Tamara look you over. “Honey, you are gonna knock him dead tonight!” It wasn’t long after that a knock rang out. You stood up, officially freaking out because you knew that it was Elvis.

“Tamara, go get the door! I’m going to check myself over again.” You ran off into the bathroom.

Tamara rolled her eyes, opening the door as she saw Jerry standing there. “Oh, hello!” She waved at him, looking him over. “Elvis didn’t tell us that he had a gorgeous friend.” She smiled. Jerry smiled at her. “Well, I’m here to keep you company while Elvis takes your friend out.” He looked past her, looking for you. “Where is your friend, by the way? Elvis is waiting.” He said. As he spoke, you came out of the room, looking at Tamara and Jerry. “Where is he?” You asked, looking out the door. Elvis peered inside of the room, eyes immediately looking at you before looking you over. He bit his lip, thinking that you were gorgeous. “Are you ready to go, sugar?”

You could have fainted, seeing him look at you like you were the only person in the room. You nodded, walking over to them as you said your goodbyes to Tamara and Jerry. Elvis led you to his car, opening the door for you. Once you got inside, he closed your door before getting in on the other side. “Where are we going tonight?” You asked, playing with your fingers as you looked over at him. You had been on a few dates, but this would be different. You were on a date with Elvis Presley. You were in his car, and he wanted you. “I’m going to take you to this new place where you can fill your belly and dance until your feet fall off.” He chuckled. “Sounds good.” You said, suddenly excited that you were going to dance the night away with him.

He arrived at the club not long after, allowing his car to be taken away by the valet. He took you by the hand, leading you inside. The club was poppin’ off nice; women were grinding against their dates as the music thumped against their bodies. Elvis led you towards the back of the club, sitting down in the booth across from you. You sat down as well, taking in your new environment. You had never been to a place like this, but you loved it. It was as if he knew that you loved to dance. “Do you like to dance, sugar?” He leaned in, his electric blues watching you. You nodded your head, dancing a little to the music that was playing. “I’ve been dancing for most of my life. My mama had me dance when I was younger, and now I work at a dancing studio down in Georgia.” You giggled.

A waiter came by your table, looking over at Elvis with such shock. “You’re Elvis Presley!” He shouted. Luckily for both of you, the music was loud that nobody heard. “Yes, but could ya’ keep that to yourself?” He laughed. The waiter nodded, proceeding to take your orders before walking off star-struck. As the night went on, you truly enjoyed Elvis’s company. He was right about having your belly full because you were filled. “Do you wanna dance, sugar? Show me those moves.” He chuckled, standing up from the booth as he took you by the hand. You giggled, following him to the dance floor as you started moving your hips from side to side. “Come on, Elvis, I’ve seen how you move. You move better than me.” You chuckled as you watched him begin to move his hips. He danced better than you imagined; you could feel yourself fluttering both in your heart and between your thighs as you watched him move.

“I’m having such a wonderful time, E.” You whispered as the song suddenly slowed, pulling him closer to you by his jacket. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you both swayed to the music. “I’m glad that you are, sugar.” He whispered against your ear. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, but he didn’t want to run you away. You looked up at him with your deep brown eyes, and he melted right under your gaze. “I’m pretty nervous about tomorrow, ya’ know? It’s been a long time since I’ve performed in front of people. All I’ve done was these movies that the Colonel signed me up for. I definitely don’t wanna sing Christmas music forever.” He chuckled, but his eyes gave him away. You looked up into his eyes, frowning at his confession. “Only you can find your way back, Elvis. Make music that makes you happy because, at the end of the day, your happiness is what makes your fans happy.” You whispered into his ear. You really did have the touch to say the right things because his eyes shifted after your words. “Come on, let me get ya’ home.” He sighed, tugging you out of the club.

The night was almost over, and you were truly upset. You didn’t want to leave Elvis, but you understood that he had a long day tomorrow before the special would start. As he pulled into your hotel, he looked over at you. “I had a great time, sugar.” He smiled, grabbing your hand as he helped you out of the car. “I did too, E. I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?” You asked, tilting your head to look up at him. He nodded, leaning down to press his lips on your forehead. He didn’t want to kiss you, not yet. The door to your room opened, revealing a disheveled Jerry and Tamara. You giggled, seeing that Tamara was trying to distract you so that Jerry could wipe the lipstick off of his mouth. “Jerry! Let’s go!” Elvis chuckled, looking back at you with a wink before walking back over to his car. Jerry followed on his heels, but not before pressing a kiss to Tamara’s lips. Jerry and Elvis pulled out of the parking lot, leaving you and Tamara staring back at them in awe.

Comeback Special

You were awake before Tamara, looking into the closet for your outfit for the day. The day that you and Tamara visited the boutique, you found the cutest outfit that you wanted to wear for the special. The short and pink dress that you pulled out of the closet had a matching jacket, and you settled for the black pumps that you had worn on your date with Elvis the previous night. “Tamara! Wake up!” You yelled, pulling the covers off of her body. She groaned, turning over to glare at you but was greeted by your smiling face. “Someone is excited to see their man today.” She giggled, sitting up in the bed. You rolled your eyes, a smile gracing your face as you put your outfit down on the bed. “Let’s go to the pool before we get ready for the special later.” You smiled as you reached into your bag, pulling out your swimsuit. Tamara jumped out of the bed, pulling her own swimsuit out of her bag before racing off to the bathroom. You shook your head, getting dressed into your swimsuit, completely taken by your thoughts. The phone rang in your room, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Hello?” “Hey sugar, I wanted to give you a morning call before I get too busy with the special.” Elvis crooned into the phone. You melted, hearing his morning voice. It was raspy, and the southern accent was very visible. You giggled, twirling the cord with your fingers. “Well, hello to you too, E. Tamara and I are going down to the pool before we get ready. I know you’ll put on a helluva show tonight.” You were affirming positive vibes that, hopefully, he kept with him today and throughout his performance tonight. “Thanks, sugar; I can’t wait to see you tonight. Remember that we are having that party afterward!” You both said your goodbyes as Tamara was coming out of the bathroom. She smirked, seeing you walk around the room with a swooning grin on your face. “Was that Elvis?” She smirked, poking you in your side. “Hush, let’s go give you a tan for your Jerry.” You teased, leading her out of the door and down to the pool.

It wasn’t until after three that you and Tamara had gotten dressed and were now heading down to the NBC studio where the special was taking place. Since Tamara had gotten the front row seats, you could find your seats quickly. The studio director was running through the rules with everyone, making sure that they knew that it was going to be filmed. You weren’t listening–looking around for Elvis. “Y/N, it’s not time for him to come out yet.” Tamara giggled, pointing to the studio director who was telling everyone to applaud. You clapped your hands along with Tamara while waiting for Elvis to come out.

Soon enough, the lights dimmed a bit, and the applause sign lit up–causing the whole studio to light up with applauses. “Welcome to the NBC stage, Elvis Presley!” You looked over to where the claps were the loudest, seeing Elvis walk out in a black leather suit. Your jaw dropped to the floor. He looked damn good, and you were sure he knew that too. “Well, shit, he looks fine.” You whispered to Tamara, who was also staring with her jaw slacked. “Yeah, he does! Holy shit, sister!” She grabbed your arm, watching as he walked up on the stage. His eyes immediately found yours, sending a wink your way. You bit your lip, looking him over before smiling at him. You mouthed, ‘Good Luck’ before he walked away to grab his guitar.

Well, since my baby left me

Well, I found a new place to dwell

Well, it's down at the end of Lonely Street

At Heartbreak Hotel

Where I'll be, I'll be so lonely, baby

Well, I'm so lonely

I'll be so lonely; I could die

You clapped along with Tamara as you watched him sing songs that made him happy. You were happy that he was singing songs that made him feel like he was at home. Once he finished singing Heartbreak Hotel, he went into Jailhouse Rock, one of your favorite songs. You could fall over, witnessing Elvis in his element, moving his hips along to the music. “It’s been a long time, baby…a long time.” He smirked as he spoke into the microphone. It took everything in you not to rush on that stage, kissing him all over his face. As the show went on, you realized that he was incredible, and you wanted to spend more time with him. “Tamara, I don’t think I wanna go back to Georgia..” You whispered to her. She gave you a knowing look before taking you by the hand. “I don’t either, Y/N.”

The special was over before you knew it, and you knew that Elvis was waiting for you. Jerry walked up to Tamara, pulling her into his arms before looking over at you. “Elvis is waiting for you backstage.” He smiled, grabbing Tamara by the hand before leading you both towards Elvis’s room. You all made it to his dressing room; Jerry immediately stopped you as the two voices came from the room. “The colonel is in there; just wait out here.” He said as tugged Tamara off to do god knows what. You listened against the door, hearing Elvis speak to this Colonel man about knowing whether he excited an audience–you really couldn’t make out what was being said. The door opened soon after, and a short man with a cane and a hat walked out. His gaze landed on you, and he glared before walking off in the other direction.

“Okay…” You chuckled, walking inside of his dressing room. Elvis was standing with his back toward you as he was watching something on the television that was in his room. “E?” You spoke, walking towards him with a small smile. He turned around, his face immediately lighting up as he opened his arms. You walked over to him, pulling him into a hug. “You were incredible, E! It was amazing!” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. He smiled shyly, hugging you tight against his body. He smelled like cinnamon and aftershave, but it was the best feeling that you had ever smelled. You didn’t want to ask him what was happening with that colonel man because you had him smiling. “Ready for this party?”

The party was at his house, with people all over the place. His bodyguards, who you later learned were called the ‘Memphis Mafia,’ invited what seemed like the entire state there in his home. You sat beside Tamara, listening to her talk to Jerry about things that you could care less about. You were glad that she could find someone who made her happy because she deserved it. Elvis came up behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You giggled, looking up at him. He had changed into a blue button-up shirt, but the two top buttons were undone. You had to hold yourself back from pushing him against the wall. Elvis had seemed to notice that you were holding yourself back, holding you against his body. “I wanna show you something.” He whispered, pulling you away from the party towards his room. Once you made it into his room, he pulled you towards the balcony of his room which showed the entire outskirts of Los Angeles. “I usually come up here when I need space away from everything. It’s so peaceful out tonight.” He hugged you, looking up at the moon that was shining against your bronze skin.

“You’re very beautiful, sugar. I hate that you have to leave tomorrow.” He sighed, holding you tighter. You looked up at him, shaking your head. “Tam and I decided that we are going to stay. I want to stay here with you.” You laid your head on his chest, looking up at the moon. Elvis smiled, turning you to face him. He could have danced, and for very good reason. You were staying for him. For him. He couldn’t wait any longer; he had to make you his. Elvis pressed his lips to yours, wrapping his arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you as your lips moved over his. “Y/N, I can’t stop thinking about ya’. Ever since we met at the boutique the other day, you were always in my head. I just can’t see myself with anybody else but you. Would ya’ be my girl?” Elvis asked, hopeful. You nodded, pulling him back to your lips.

Elvis pulled you back to his bedroom, pressing you against the wall as he looked down at you. You reached up, pressing a heated kiss to his lips before moving your lips down his jawline. He pulled away, looking down at you–his electric blues seeming to have darkened. He pulled away, biting his lip, suddenly becoming nervous. He had never been with a black woman before, so he wanted to ensure he did everything right. You were different than the other girls he had bedded before. Your brow arched, looking up at him, confused. “I’ve never-I’ve never been with a black woman before, sugar.” He whispered, looking away with a blush that spread across his cheeks. “Is that what you’re worried about, Elvis? Underneath my skin, I bleed the same as you. I have the same anatomy as all other women.” You chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt. “I want you.” You pushed his shirt off of his shoulders before pressing a longing kiss to his shoulder blade.

That was enough to push Elvis forward. He pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss, laying you back on his bed. You sat up, pulling your jacket off of your shoulders before unzipping your dress. You hurriedly pulled your dress off, revealing a white laced matching lingerie set that Tamara had made you wear. You silently thanked her, pulling Elvis against your body–lips pressing against his once again. This kiss was passionate–teeth clattering and tongues dancing with one another. You reached down, unbuttoning his slacks before pulling them down his legs. “Touch me, Elvis.” You whispered breathlessly. His hands shook as his fingers ran down your arms, the feeling being better than he had imagined. His lips pressed kisses along your neck, reaching behind you to undo your bra. When your breasts were free, he sucked in a breath–rubbing his fingers over your nipples. Your back arched against his hands, wanting more.

Elvis stepped out of his slacks, pulling his shoes off in the process. He crawled on the bed, pulling you into his arms as he placed kisses along the underside of your right breast before moving to the other. “You’re so so beautiful, sugar.” He whispered as his tongue swiped along your right nipple. You wanted him so bad, the heat rising in your stomach as your legs shook at the pleasure. He kissed down the swell of your breasts until he reached the top of your panties. He looked up at you–his eyes asking for permission as he ran his fingers along the fabric that covered your cunt. You nodded your head, giving him permission to continue. He tugged your panties off slowly, his blue eyes never leaving your face. His fingers moved along your thighs, spreading your legs apart. Your breath hitched in your throat, watching him as his fingers tickled the inside of your thighs.

He slid two of his fingers inside of you as his eyes continued to watch the expressions that you would make. “Ah E..” You groaned out, your head falling back into the mattress. Elvis was in love with everything about you and now to see your face contorted in pleasure, it was like he was in the presence of God himself. His fingers pumped inside of you, his lips running across his lips. “Don’t tease me.” You groaned, sitting up as you grabbed for his boxers. “Let’s take these off so I can see you.” You tugged his boxers off of his body, revealing his hardened pink shaft. This was your first time being with a white man but for a white man, he was well endowed. You pulled him down on the bed, grabbing his dick. You spit on your hand, moving your hand along the shaft. Elvis could have died seeing you pump his dick in your hands.

You bit your lip, watching his writhe underneath you. “I need you inside of me, right now.” You groaned, pulling away as you crawled on top of him. He grabbed your hips, looking up at you with a smile. “Are you sure, baby?” He asked, looking up at your beautiful face, asking your permission one last time. You needed him badly, so you nodded. “Yes baby, I need you.” He grabbed his dick, aligning with your entrance before slowly pushing inside of you. The stretch that came next was painful but it had soon subsided. Elvis sat there, waiting for you to get comfortable as he sat up, kissing your chest. You groaned, grinding your hips along his lap. “I’m ready baby, I’m ready.” Elvis didn’t need to be told twice, thrusting up into you slowly. You placed your hands on his chest, grinding your hips against his.

“Sugar, you feel so good.” He moaned, lacing his fingers with yours as he continued pumping into you slowly. It felt like you were floating in pleasure, throwing your head back—moaning loudly. Elvis groaned at the sight, speeding up as he watched your breasts bounce with each thrust. He watched your brown eyes close with pleasure, your curls bouncing freely as he fucked up into you. Your moans sounded like music to his ears, he wanted more. He needed you. Now that he finally had you, he wasn’t going to let you go. “Please—harder..” You moaned out, grinding down against his thrusting hips. He flipped you down on the bed, grabbing your legs before wrapping them around his waist. He pounded into you harder, pressing his lips to yours. Your fingers ran through his black locks, tugging softly.

His hair stuck to his forehead, sweat glistening on his brow as he pounded harder into you. Your nails dug into his back as you squeezed your legs around his waist tighter. “I’m gonna cum, E.” You groaned as you pressed your lips to his neck, sucking marks on his skin. He groaned, nearing his end quicker than he had wanted. He rubbed circles on your clit, groaning in your ear. Your back arched, the coil in your stomach snapping, throwing you headfirst into your orgasm. You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back harder. He groaned at the feeling, pulling out of you as he pumped his cock with his hand. He groaned, releasing his seed on your stomach. “Fuck sugar….” He moaned out as he laid beside you in the bed. You giggled, sitting up in the bed, grabbing the tissues out of the box next to the bed. You cleaned off your stomach and his cock before throwing the tissues in the wastebasket.

You laid back in his arms, catching your breath. “That was amazing for my first time, Elvis.” You giggled. “You were too cute too.” You teased, thinking about earlier when he was asking for permission and blushing at the thought of having sex with you. Elvis pressed a kiss to your forehead, lacing your fingers with his. “Why don’t you and Tamara move in with us at Graceland?” He asked, looking over at you. Your brow arched, looking up at him. “You want us to move in with you?” You asked quietly. “Yeah, why not? I want to be with you and you want to be with me, right?” He pressed his lips on your knuckles. “Yeah I do. I just don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t intrude, baby, I want to be with you all the time.”

“Okay baby, count me in.” You smiled, snuggling into his arms. You dozed off in his arms with the thoughts of how this trip turned out to be better than you imagined.

[idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy]

Girl… you say you uncomfortable writing smut but repost stuff involving smut and follow smut writers…..

Like girl your hypocritical

And the fact that your too scared to write smut like your dumb af. If you wanna make it in the fanfic writer world you need smut or you’ll get no hype on your boring ass stories LMFAOOO💀

At the end of the day writing these non smut stories isn’t gonna get you anywhere hun <3 😭 much love ig🫣

oh.. look im sorry i dont mean to come off hypocritical at all…. that wasn’t my intention. i don’t write smut because it makes me “uncomfortable” and when i say that it just makes me feel weird because it’s hard for me to write! i mean im not good at all. aand im sorry my stories are boring. i tryyy really hard on my stories. i prefer reading other smut because it’s well written and i love supporting other writers…❤️. writing fanfics are fun for me and kind of a coping mechanism and im not worried about being suuuuper hyped as a fanfic writer i just want people to enjoy my stories as much as i enjoy theirs! im really sorry for being a hypocrite i didn’t know that was how i was coming off trust me! also with the smut thing im sorry i know it must be weird and ill try to fix my writing abilities but im just not good at writing smut. I feel bad i didn’t meet your needs or pleases as a writer and ill try to do better you can count on me for that!

[incorectly]

✨ ✨Appreciation Post ✨ ✨

Dear Blogs that write for Black Readers x Austin Butler or any of his characters he’s played (Or any Black Reader x Any Person), Please don't stop writing, all of y'all’s work is some of THE BEST to be written, EVER. (I’ve been apart of ALOT of fandoms and have read a ton of work) None can compare, you make black women feel seen by making stories that are relatable to US.  (Even if it’s made up). So this is for you, I APPRECIATE all of you and all the time and dedication you put into your work, it does not go UNSEEN or OVERLOOKED, because if I come across your work I’m always liking and reblogging (I’m getting better at reblogging y’all’s work) because I’m always rooting for y'all even if your work isn’t getting the recognition it deserves. You are SEEN. 

Sorry for Rambling it was just on my heart to share

(Tagging a couple people who I think are amazing writers) (If I didn't tag you drop a comment I would love to see your work I’m always up to read more stories) 

@dulcewrites @mamasturn @infernalodie @that-one-anxious-mango @enchantinglyjade @chaeycunty @geminixevans-stan @mauvecherie-writes @syntheticavenger @afriendlyblackhottie @dramaqueeenamby @royallyprincesslilly @blackwomanwriter @jbrizzywrites

(Those are just a few from the Austin butler Fandom and Chris Evans Fandom (Although I need to read more of Chris Evans because I’m slacking, Austin has a tight grip on me) 

Love all of you.🤎

-Incorectly

[adoreyouusugar]

I feel like I’ve read ever Austin Butler x Black reader posts and I need more like I’m sorry but I need it

[ranaissingle]

Right Here

Masterlist

Summary: The reader and Austin spend a day at home when the Oscar nominations come out and the reader comforts an insecure Austin the day before. Rating: T (it is straight fluff and I eat that shit up) Pairings: Austin x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.8k A/N: I haven't posted in like a week bc I couldn't find inspiration but I need more soft Austin content to think about so this is what you guys get instead of Coffee or Tea Pt. 5 lol (Which is the last part by the way and I am currently suffering from writer's block so I'm doing this to distract myself. ) Reader has almost no body descriptors like race, body parts, weight, etc.

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Austin had been counting the days until the Oscar nominations and had run himself ragged in the process. He googled when they would be released at least 4 times a day and consulted his manager about the likelihood of his nomination in the time between. As much as Austin tried to convince himself he didn't care, he hadn't fooled anyone; not even himself.

You were content to watch him at first and assumed it was a natural part of being an actor; you weren't sure what you could do to ease his stress, to begin with. But after the dreaded day drew nearer, Austin's anxiety had shot through the roof and multiplied tenfold. You couldn't bare to watch him wallow in his own misery or stress himself out any longer. So the afternoon before the Oscar nominations were to come out and Austin's anxiety was at an all-time high, you would make your move.

You had planned a delicious at-home dinner followed by a movie and a relaxing day in bed. You had prepared a delicious bolognese sauce with mini bowtie pasta (Austin's favorite) accompanied by a tasty fruit cake for dessert.

You had really outdone yourself.

Austin was due to come back from the day's interview at 6:45 which was perfect for dinner at 7.

You had just finished lighting the dinner candles and switching off the lights when Austin tumbled into the door looking worn out and stressed to high heaven.

You walked up to the door to take his coat and kiss his cheek.

"Welcome home love, how was work?" This had become a routine; Austin would tumble in, you would take his coat, kiss his cheek, and then ask how his day was. That routine was one of Austin's few consistencies in his hectic life and he looked forward to your soft smile and breathy voice during his entire commute home.

"It was alright darlin' how was yours?", he placed his hand on your waist and drew you closer.Just as Austin finished his question to you, it seemed he noticed the lack of fluorescent lighting in the apartment.

"What's up with all the lights not being o-" He set his eyes on the dinner table set with the best dishware and china, the long thin candles lit in the middle, and the unopened bottle of red wine occupying the end of the table.

"You've been so stressed lately and it's taking a toll on your health," you reached up to place your hand on his cheek and swiped your thumb over the discolored skin under his eyes.

"I'm worried about you is all, so I made us dinner and I have a movie qued for us to watch after." Austin gradually wrapped his arms tighter and tighter as you spoke. Eventually, his head landed in your neck and you felt his breaths tickling your clavicle.

"Thank ya darlin' I love ya so much, ya know that?" His voice was ragged. Austin loved being taken care of, but he wouldn't tell anyone that and you loved taking care of him. It was a win-win situation.

You pulled your face away from him to grasp his hands in yours and lead him to the table.

"Darlin this smells delicious, did ya make pasta?"

"Just how you like it, my love." Austin's smile was breathtaking and he looked more alive in that moment than he had in the 2 weeks before.

Austin pulled out your chair before walking around to the table to pull out his own. He tried the pasta and all but moaned in approval.

"Darlin' this is amazing! I swear you cook this better each time." You were glad the hours spent over the stove reducing the sauce with spices and herbs had the desired effect.

"I'm glad you like it Austin! I called up my mom to get some better tips for making a meat sauce. I'm glad the work paid off." You giggled as Austin continued to shovel spoon after spoon of the delicious pasta into his mouth.

Dinner went by pleasantly with both of you conversing about whatever came to mind. Both your legs were intertwined under the table and Austin fidgeted with your hand where it rested on the table.

You both made it through the main course accompanied by the wine and when it came time for dessert, Austin decided he wanted to spoon-feed you the fruit cake as a 'thank you' for all the hard work you had put in to prepare a delicious meal for him.

Austin had been drained and tired for what felt like an eternity but it seems an afternoon with you and a home-cooked meal was all he needed to recover.

Austin had asked you three times to let him help you with the dishes but you had profusely refused and all but shoved him into your bedroom as you told him to relax and kissed his forehead.

"I can take care of the dishes myself and I'll just be putting them in the dishwasher anyway." You waved your hand to emphasize how light the work would be.

Austin frowned but eventually let out an "Alright darling whatever you say." accompanied by a heavy sigh and a 'thank you' kiss on your temple.

You did the dishes in record time because you wanted to spend some time with Austin before his eventual crash. He wasn't going to last through the whole movie as was evident by his eye bags and already drooping eyelids.

You crossed the living room and opened the door to your shared bedroom. Austin had changed into his pajamas and was tucked under the covers while he read one of his mystery novels.

"Hey, baby," you spoke as you entered the room and Austin perked up, "I was thinking, we can still watch the movie if you want but you're looking a little tired and I don't want to keep you up, especially when you need all the rest you can get. So, what do you choose?"

"Could we just cuddle and go to sleep? I am feelin' pretty tired." He tilted his head in the most endearing way as he asked and you were happy to satisfy his request.

You crawled into the bed and opened the blanket and your arms to invite Austin into a hug. His smile was breathtaking as he practically threw his book onto the nightstand and shimmied under the sheets to get closer to you.

His head found purchase in your neck yet again and his arms wrapped around you to hold your hips in his embrace. You settled one hand on his back to rub circled on his spine while the other raked its way through his soft locks. You knelt your head down to whisper how proud you were of him, how much you loved him, and how he had nothing to worry about because he was guaranteed an oscar nomination tomorrow. He kissed your necks over and over as you spoke and only buried himself further into your form when you finished speaking.

The dim street lights reflecting into the room and the lavender diffuser you had on at all times calmed Austin. He eventually relaxed in your embrace and spoke a mumbled "I love you" before finally nodding off.

"I love you more."

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

The sunlight streamed in through the half-drawn curtains and illuminated the room with a soft and warm light. The both of you were still fast asleep in the position you had slept in the night before; although Austin seemed to be nestled impossibly closer to you. He had fallen asleep in record time and had not woken up in a cold sweat once during the entire night. His dreams were filled with mundane days spent at home and your smile took center stage in his every thought.

Alas, although you and Austin had both forgotten what day today was, his manager had not been so lucky. The Oscar nominations had been released in the early morning and you both had slept ever soundly through it. Taylor, Austin's manager, had been awake at the crack of dawn refreshing her inbox and the official oscar website. As soon as the nominations dropped, she picked up her cell to call Austin. It took her 4 attempts before your sleep-ridden voice made its way into her receiver.

You picked the phone up to your ear and mumbled a broken

"Hello?"

" OH MY GOD THANK GOODNESS SOMEONE ANSWERED. AUSTIN GOT THE NOMINATION!" Her voice blared into your ear making you wince and pull the phone away from your face.

"What??? Are you serious Taylor??!!" You tried to keep your voice soft so as to not wake Austin before you confirmed the news.

"YES, THE NOMINATIONS WERE RELEASED A FEW MINUTES AGO!"

"Okay, I'll tell Austin! He is still asleep so I'll have to wake him up." Said man was still tucked into your neck but had begun to stir.

"Pleeeeeease do, he has been waiting for this nomination for so long and you and I both know he deserves it."

"I know Taylor, thank you for calling so many times it would have been a shame if we missed this."

After ending the phone call, you put the phone down and wrapped your arms back around Austin while leaning your mouth into his ear and running your hand down his back.

"Austin baby, you have to wake up love. We can't sleep in any longer." Austin stirred but did not fully wake up. You stroked his back again before using your words to coax him up into the world of the awake.

Austin's facelifted slowly out of your neck to turn to where the light was streaming into the room and he placed his head over your heart while he slowly woke up.

"Austin, Taylor just called." You felt him tense his arms around you as he braced himself for the bad news. You just wrapped your arms tighter around him and whispered, so softly he barely heard you at all

"You did it, my love, you got nominated for best actor by the Oscars. Out of so many actors, they chose you! I'm so proud of you Austin, you worked so hard and you did it, baby. You did it, my love."

Austin's choked sobs were palpable in the room.

"I did it? A-are you serious? I actually got nominated?" He had picked his head up from your chest and sat up to look at you.

Taking his face in between both your hands you gazed into his eyes.

"Yes, you did Austin. Believe it and live it because you deserve it. All your hard work has paid off and I will always be right here for you, for as long as you'll have me."

Austin's teary eyes and blissful smile made your heart flutter in a way you never knew was possible.

Never in your life had you loved someone like you loved Austin.

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This got very sappy very fast but I can't say that I'm mad at it. I also think that Austin probably needs a lot of assurance right now just like the rest of us. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

[mamasturn]

dirty dancing pt. 9

pairing austin!elvis x black!fem!oc (cynthia). warning: 18+ steam, suggestive themes. content: cynthia and elvis get married. tags: @neeville @dulcewrites @crash-and-cure @cvpidspearl @blackwriter48 @wonderprince @venus2eros @adoreyouusugar @sunshinetoday1 @cosmic-parker @kaitaesupremacy @librarydame @louderfortheback @thetaoofzoe

note: well…long time, no see

“Marry me, baby.”

Cynthia’s hands released the utensils they held. A loud clatter ricocheted off the decorated walls of the dining room. The curls upon her head curtained her eyes, but they were blown wide in shock. Slowly, she tuned to the left. Her eyes found his baby blues, which were filled with hope as he descended onto one knee.

In his hand was a black velvet box. He pulled the cap back to reveal the most piece of jewelry she’d ever seen. And, it was authentically her. She’d expressed to him that as she’d gotten older, she found an indescribable beauty in the color green. Cynthia was well-aware that he was attentive; she just never knew he was so attentive that he’d propose to her with an emerald ring.

It was beautiful, goodness, was it beautiful. The emerald diamond was at least three karats, and it was the star of the show. Its setting was gold with vines entagling the band. He pulled it out of the box and brought it closer to her.

“I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else but you, Cyn. You came in my life and changed my desires. I’d be a fool to let you slip through my fingertips. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine, as long as you’ll have me.”

A tearful laugh fell from Cythia’s lips. “Where will we go?” The four words held so much weight, and he knew why. No one in the south would approve of the union of a white man and a Black woman--it was unheard of. But, Elvis knew that already, and he was determined to get what he wanted. There was one state that would grant their wishes--California. California had legalized interracial marriage in 1948, and if she said yes, he already had the first flight there arranged. He just needed a yes.

He stood to his feet and placed the box on the table. Cynthia looked up at him, her brown eyes teary and filled with a million unreadable emotions. “California. They’ll accept us out there. They don’t believe in the silliness them people in the south believe. We can get married, baby. All you gotta do is say yes, and we’ll go. It’ll be me an’ you forever. Baby…”

Cynthia stared at the ring and it stared back at her. What would she tell her parents? They were already suspicious of her relationship with Elvis and feared for her safety daily. Their Black daughter was in a committed relationship with the most famous singer in the world. That was dangerous enough. How much further was she willing to go?

She wanted to be his wife, she truly did. But she was scared. What would happen when people found out? Would they try to hurt them? A part of her challenged her concerns because her relationship was nobody else’s concern, and who was society to tell them who to love? Yes, they were of different races, but it was no reason to repel a love that was so strong and profound. They weren’t hurting anyone.

Her lips twisted as she nodded. “Let’s get married.”

“You look beautiful, darlin’.” Cynthia’s eyes dropped toward her dress. It was a simple, white slip dress that’d been hiding in her closet. It was form fitting and stopped just below her knees. Accompanied by silver pointed heels, she was the most stunning bride. She rushed her makeup in the courtroom bathroom and took the rollers out of her hair, which produced the most voluminous curls. The new layered haircut fit her wonderfully.

“Thank you. You look handsome as always.” He wore a simple black suit, nothing too crazy. He was flamboyant any other day, but chose to have the more simplistically beautiful wedding of his dreams.

“We are gathered here today…”

Their eyes met and giddy smiles spread across their faces. A dream had become a reality. All the worries and fears were washed away when she heard, “you may now kiss the bride.” Cynthia welcomed the passionate kiss and scattered applause from the judge an the officiant. It wasn’t the most ideal wedding, but it was perfect for them, and that’s what mattered. “Mr. and Mrs. Presley, congratulations.”

“Mrs. Presley…I love the sound of that.” They’d found a hotel to stay in for the evening before flying back to Graceland the following morning. The hotel service was luxurious, as they wanted the best for Elvis Presley and his wife. They stayed in the presidential suite on the top floor, which was decked out to the nine.

Large windows that oversaw the city, flowers and plants that reminded her of Graceland, chandeliers above them, and a King sized bed with an angel-white comforter, which she laid on comfortably.

Cynthia turned her head to meet his eyes and smiled gently. She loved it too. Cynthia Irene Presley. Music to her ears. Elvis stood at the end of the bed admiring her beauty. She was freshly showered and dressed in her white nightgown with lace trimming. Her makeup had been removed and her hair was tied with a satin scarf. God, she looked so beautiful to him.

Her brown eyes were blown wide with love and adoration as they followed his movements toward her. She sat up on her elbows and spread her legs just slightly to make room for his body.

Elvis crawled over her, his breath fanning her lips gently. Cynthia shuddered. His pink lips captured hers and she welcomed the feeling.

She loved intimate moments with Elvis, and she could only imagine how much better their interactions would get since they were married. It would mean they’d finally go all the way.

Cynthia and Elvis had dabbled in other forms of sexual intimacy, but had never crossed the line of penetration, as Cynthia requested. She was grateful for her husband’s patience with her, and was more than ready to give herself to him fully.

“Elvis,” she moaned softly as his lips traveled down her body. What a sight to see, it was. Him working his way down her quivering body with darkening eyes and swollen lips. Her, jerking at every touch he gave her and calling him name so gently.

“Yeah, baby…” His large hands cupped her hips as his thumbs traced the waistband of her panties. Slowly, he slid them down her legs. Cynthia kicked them to the side.

“Come here.” She pulled him upwards and kissed him again. Her lips moved toward his ear, which she nibbled on softly. Elvis moaned softly. “Make love to me, Mr. Presley.”

He burned with desire. Elvis hummed softly and instructed her to lay back. His hand slid up her abdomen, leaving goosebumps in the wake. He reached behind her back, looking to unclip her bra. She lifted up to help remove the article of clothing.

Soft pants and breaths of anticipation passed through her lips as Elvis’ warm lips traveled down the valley or her chest, around her clothed hips, and between her thighs, where he teasingly and strategically kissed around the place she wanted him the most.

He lifted his eyes, finding Cynthia with closed eyes and a heaving chest. Her lip was caught between her teeth. She looked down at him when she felt him stop.

She tensed suddenly. Elvis rubbed her thighs gently as a way of reassurance. He wouldn’t push her, though. If she needed time to prepare, he’d give her all the time in the world.

“Relax, baby, relax…”

Cynthia nodded slowly. She didn’t want it to be weird, but she was indeed nervous. But, it was Elvis, she reminded herself. She had no reason to be. All of her worries went away when she felt his lips on her. A gasp fell from her lips, “Elvis…”

“You okay?”

Cynthia nodded tiredly against his chest. “I’m okay.” She’d fantasized what her first time would be like, and Elvis exceeded her expectations. She felt so loved, adored, and honored. He paid close attention to her body and made sure her pleasure was the priority, and for that, she couldn’t have been more thankful.

“Mrs. Presley…” Elvis said for what seemed to be the millionth time. It didn’t bother her, though; she enjoyed hearing it. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you more, Mr. Presley.”

[tpresley]

My favorite Austin pictures <3

Most of these scream bf/husband material

He’s so fucking gorgeous 🫶🏽

[isthlsfate]

*ೃ༄ That’s All Right

warnings: LONG, tooth rotting fluff, slight swearing, time skips, mentions of the colonel, smut (mdni!)

pairing: 50s elvis presley/austin!elvis x black reader

word count: 2.3k+

*:･ﾟ✧ 07.59

“(y/n), i don’t usually do this but i need ya to perform tonight.”

at the sound of her boss’s words she drops the dishes she was washing, flinching at the loud “clank!” they make. (y/n) quickly dries her hands off and heads up to the front where she had heard his voice come from.

“m’sorry, alonzo, i-i don’t think i heard ya right.” she stutters, resting her arms on the bar counter. alonzo chuckles, taking one last look at the club before giving her his full attention.

“ya did, sweetheart. i’m expectin’ a big crowd tonight and i don’t have enough entertainment.”

the brown skinned girl opens and closes her mouth in disbelief, “why not have b.b. perform twice? or w-what about lil’ richard?”

the elder of the two gives (y/n) a stern and knowing look.

“ya tryna tell me this ain’t somethin’ you’ve been dreamin’ of?”

she sighs, glaring at the elder man before nodding nonetheless.

alonzo lets out a noise of contentment and pulls her in for a hug.

“go on upstairs and get changed, we’ll be openin’ soon.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊

as usual, the club handy crowd was huge and lively. (y/n) sat at the bar taking small sips of her drink, attempting to ease her nerves.

she wasn’t used to being out in the open like this, usually hidden away in the back washing dishes. every now and then she couldn’t help herself and she’d sneak to the front, perched behind the bar jamming along to the soulful rhythm and blues of big mama thornton, b.b king, sister rosetta thorpe and artists alike.

her heart pounded in her ears as she eagerly awaited her turn to wow the crowd.

“let’s dance, honey. get those jitters outta ya.” b.b’s voice sounds beside her, causing her to jump in her seat. she visibly relaxes at the sight of him, taking his outstretched hand without hesitation.

b.b. guides her into the crowd of sweaty, dancing bodies, doing a little shimmy to encourage her. (y/n) lets out a giggle, following in his footsteps.

its not long before she forgets the feeling of anxiety and angst, moving along the floor as if no one else was there. the electric feel of lil’ richard’s voice overpowers her, her body taking over and her head running empty. she spins around, wiggles, and shimmies.

the song soon changes from upbeat to the sensual, fervent kind she’s used to, her body becoming one with the rhythm.

she doesn’t even truly notice as a pair of arms snake around her waist, a warm body filling in behind her and following her movements.

(y/n) spins around in the strong arms and faces the stranger, her right leg wrapping around his waist as he step backwards, swaying their hips.

“you ain’t b.b.” she smiles, allowing the person to turn her around once again, her back against his front as they continue swaying.

the raven haired male lets out a sultry chuckle, his lips touching her ear as he speaks.

“don’t sound so disappointed.”

“do i know ya?”

“would ya like to?”

she tuts, pulling away, both intrigued and unsettled by his quick yet smooth responses.

his touch remains on her, the two of them still dancing softly, seeming to forget their surroundings.

“what’s your name, stranger?” the brown skinned girl smirks, moving her hips in a way that make her look even more irresistible.

“elvis.” he can’t stop himself from pulling her closer again, needing to feel her velvety skin against his, “what about you, doll?”

“it’s (y-“

“(y/n)! you’re up!” alonzo pushes through the crowd, his eyes widening a bit at the sight before him before quickly returning to normal.

the younger woman nods, bidding elvis one last look before rushing towards the stage.

she stands before the crowd with sweaty palms, her once calm and collected aura now tainted with fear and anxiety.

b.b., who she had lost in the midst of dancing now sat stage left with his guitar, giving her a thumbs up and a huge grin.

she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and gives him the cue to start.

“mmm, black snake crawlin’ in my room” ♪

her voice entrances the crowd, like a siren in the middle of the sea. her confidence boosts at the stunned silence of the group, her hips starting to sway along.

her body was on fire, a tingling sensation rushing from her toes up to the tip of her nose.

she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be okay with not performing in front of a crowd again.

she especially couldn’t stand the thought of not performing in front of a crowd with that elvis standing in it.

she could feel his sapphire eyes burning holes into her skin, she fought hard not to look right back at him.

it was like he was enthralled by her, she wasn’t sure if he’d even blinked this entire time.

by the time her song was coming to a close, the young folk of the group had begun dancing just as she had been dancing before, bodies rubbing against bodies, even a few kisses being shared here and there.

nothing in her life could ever live up to this moment.

b.b. strums a little solo at the end of the song and then rises up, giving the female a huge hug and joining in on the multitude of cheers from the crowd.

(y/n) steps down, immediately earning congratulations from alonzo and other fellow employees.

she smiles in thanks but her mind is only half focused on them as her eyes scan the room for her raven haired brute.

“ya didn’t tell me you could sing, sugar.”

the girl grins at the sound of his voice and the feel of his body heat behind her, spinning around to meet his dark gaze.

“ya didn’t ask.”

elvis grins back, grabbing her hand and tugging her further away from the crowd, who had begun to indulge in another performance.

“(y/n)’s a beautiful name.” he tells her, smile deepening at the little scrunch of her nose.

“elvis ain’t so bad either.” she jokes, her eyes searching his face for any sign of discontent at her faux idiocy towards his popularity.

truth be told she recognized him as soon as their eyes met, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of being drooled all over like the other women did.

the blue eyed male only laughs.

“so you can sing, you can dance, what else?”

𓍊𓋼𓍊

four months later!

alonzo had given (y/n) the day off, so after taking a small stroll around beale street in the early hours of the morning, she decided to relax in her room atop club handy.

her radio lowly hummed the tune of ella fitzgerald’s “blue skies” as she rearranged her closet, her feet moving along to the rhythm.

she’s so caught up in the music and the task at hand that she doesn’t hear the room door open, nor the footsteps coming near her.

at the feeling of hands grabbing her waist she lets out a scream, immediately swinging at the person only for her arm to be caught.

“whoa baby, it’s just me.”

“damnit, elvis! ya almost gave me a heart attack. did alonzo tell ya i was up here?”

the raven haired male chuckles, making himself comfortable on her bed.

“he didn’t have to, you’re always cooped up in here if ya ain’t doin’ dishes or performin’.”

(y/n) rolls her eyes, turning her radio down slightly before welcoming herself on elvis’ lap.

“things with the colonel goin’ alright?”

the male sighs, “as alright as the colonel can be.”

he grabs her by the chin and makes her look up at him, his eyes searching her face. he smiles, watching her nose crinkle as it always did when he did something to make her shy.

elvis was glad to have met her when he did. despite the tough, mellow man facade he put up, his up and coming fame was beginning to take a toll on him.

it was nice to stop by club handy and visit his girl, get a taste of reality for a little while.

(y/n) jumps off his lap abruptly, pulling him out of his thoughts. he watches with curious eyes as she scurries back over to her radio and turns the dial, the volume increasing.

at the first sound of his own voice playing through the speaker, he falls back onto the bed with a groan.

his girl only giggles, rushing to his side and pulling him up.

“well it’s down at the end of lonely street, at heartbreak hotel.” ♪

she sings, her lips puckered as she tries to copy his signature smolder.

she bounces on her tippy toes, making faces at elvis, coaxing him to join her. it’s not long before he does.

(y/n) watches in adoration as the music swallows him, just as it does her. she could watch him perform day and night.

elvis notices her staring as he backs her towards the bed, still singing along. he gently pushes her down and climbs atop her, his hands holding her face.

“i’ll be so lonely, i could die.” ♪

he sings in a hushed voice before capturing her lips in a kiss.

(y/n) lets out a soft moan, her hands roaming his body as he grinds his hips into hers.

elvis kisses down her neck, unbuttoning her blouse in the process, lips following quickly after his fingers.

he stops below her belly button and lifts up, connecting their lips once again.

“i-im ready, e.” the sound of his sweet girl’s words cause his breath to catch in his throat. he backs away from her a little to look her sternly in her eyes, his eyebrows furrowed.

“are ya sure, doll? we don’t have to.”

(y/n) rolls her eyes, “i been sure since the day we first danced, elvis. just been waiting for the right time.”

“oh really?” the male teases, unbuttoning his black lace shirt in the process. his girl only nods, her attention focused on exploring his body with her eyes.

elvis flips them so that they’re facing one another, his hands gently pulling down her panties and pants altogether.

she whimpers at the cold air grazing against her now bare body, her hands grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss.

the raven haired male pulls his own pants down before he lifts her leg over his hip, his tip teasing her entrance and eliciting a sigh from the both of them.

with a deep thrust he enters her, reveling in the sounds that leave her lips. he kisses all along her face, whispering words of praise.

his hips pick up in speed, his own moans leaving his lips as he feels himself nearing his climax.

he opens his eyes at the soft touch of (y/n)’s hands grabbing his face, tears brimming her eyes at the overwhelming pleasure. of all the sights he’s seen her, this one had just become his favorite.

“i love you, elvis.”

those four words send him over the edge, his lips sloppily meeting hers as his thrusts get sharper, his load spilling inside her. he keeps his pace, bringing her to her own orgasm, his kisses swallowing her moans.

elvis buries his head in her neck, not quite ready to leave her just yet. he places gentle pecks along her sweaty skin.

“i love ya too, darlin’.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊

*:･ﾟ✧ 02.60

“calm down now, alonzo! i still wanna have my independence, i’ll come in an’ work whenever ya call me.”

“i know, it just ain’t gonna be the same without ya living here, honey.” the elder man pulls (y/n) in for a hug, careful not to squeeze her too tight due to her growing bump.

she glances over at elvis when the two of them pull away, a small smile adorning her face at his fond expression. he knew asking her to move to graceland with him would be a huge step, alonzo had damn near raised her.

he was beyond grateful to her for making his dreams come true and saying yes. the house was cold and lonely without the warmth of his mother. he had fired the colonel soon after her passing, but there was still a lot of damage to be fixed and it felt easier with her right by his side.

“i never took ya for such a sap.” she teases alonzo, welcoming the warm embrace of her boyfriend who had scurried over to them.

“y’all get on now! tell your daddy “hi” for me, elvis.”

“yes, sir.” the raven haired male salutes, grabbing (y/n)’s hand and leading her out to his cadillac.

once she’s settled in he rushes to the driver side, sitting down and taking a minute to admire her beauty.

“stop starin’.” she deadpans, her nose scrunching.

elvis reaches forward and gives her a big kiss.

“i’ll stare all i want, you look damn gorgeous carryin’ my baby.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊

the ride to graceland goes by shortly—elvis had sped a little, the excitement of showing his girl her new home taking over.

he opens the front door for her, eyes never leaving her frame as he watches her take in the home.

after some time, (y/n) turns to him, “where’s the radio?”

the blue eyed male laughs a genuine laugh, shocked at her question. he quickly grabs one from the kitchen and hands it to her, contemplating what she could possibly be doing.

she immediately switches it on, her eyes widening at the song playing.

“that’s all right mama, that’s all right for you” ♪

elvis groans, it’d be just his luck a song of his is the first to play.

(y/n) saunters over to him, a little shimmy in her step as she does so.

“can’t really dance to your version the way ya can mine.” she teases, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

elvis brushes his raven locks out of his face, a grin taking up his face.

“ya can’t even dance that way no more, lil’ mama. not with a lil presley in ya.”

(y/n) rolls her eyes but the smile on her face is apparent.

she rests her head on elvis’ shoulder and sways with him, reveling in the life and the man she had been so lucky to be gifted.

[dulcewrites]

AB!Elvis x black!reader with Him professing his love for her for the first time. 🥺if you have time.

The Closer I Get to You

Pairing: austin!elvis x black reader

Summary: A trip to Graceland cements Elvis’s feelings for you

Warnings: none, just sweet and fluffy

Requested: yes (thank you 🫶🏽)

A/N: ok so l wrote something and then scraped it (I actually might post it separately as a different thing). It was turning out to be long and a bit more antsy so I went back to the drawing board for something a bit softer. I hope y’all like this, and please keep sending in request

Masterlist

You’ve been staring at the outside of the house for a few minutes now. House is putting it lightly. Graceland is a mansion with sprawling acreage and a bevy of nice cars outside to match the opulence of the home. You can’t stop looking at the outside, a little mystified. 

“Y’know there’s an inside too, right?” Elvis teases as he leans against the Cadillac next to you. 

There are certain moments you get reminded that he’s a star. For example, like when you hear him on the radio at the bookkeeping shop you work at or when he calls you late at night after a show, recounting the new city he’s in. And now this giant structure in front of you that he calls home. Everyone wants a piece of him, and he’s here with you; giddy to show you a piece of his world.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so nice,” you say with a smile.

Elvis grins shyly at you and takes your hand in his. You can tell he’s proud of this place. This little visit had been weeks in the making. First wanting a time conducive for privacy to get you there, then working through busy schedules. Picking a time that was more peaceful, something Graceland rarely was these days. His dad, grandma, other family members, and friends were away, leaving just you two and his mom. When he said she’d be there, you didn’t know how to take it. Elvis clearly adores his parents, especially his mom, and to make anything less than a great first impression would be crushing to you. 

While walking up the stairs to the door, you use your free hand to fix your pin curls. Then rub your lips together, feeling the lipstick you applied while in the car. You’re nervous for obvious reasons. Being told you exist and were in his life is different from you be there in his house.

“Baby you look beautiful. Nothin’ to worry about,” he reassures you, squeezing your hand slightly. 

You nod and squeeze his hand back. He opens the door, and you’re hit with the smell of food and the sound of music. The living area that leads into the dining area is brightly lit and power blue. It was so him it hurt.

“Mama, please come greet your guest,” Elvis calls out. 

Trying to distract yourself for your nerves, you pick up a bright red pillow that catches your eyes. You’re taken aback when you turn it over and see Elvis’s face stitched into it. With a laugh and your brows raised curiously, you show it to him. He sheepishly takes it from you and throws it back to the coach.

“Oh, look at you two,” a warm, southern voice interrupts the moment. The two of you turn around to see his mom there. 

Elvis pulls you into his side with a bright smile. The introduction goes much better than you thought it would. Mrs. Presley insists you call her Gladys, and she tells you that you’re even prettier than Elvis described. The evening starts with Elvis giving you a grand tour of the whole place. Each room more opulent and over the top than the rest. You even marvel at the gorgeous kitchen and bathrooms. His bedroom is the last stop on the tour. It’s spiraling and you sit on the bed with a smile. Despite the grandness of it all, its lived in and comfortable.

After the tour, Gladys pulls you to the living area with a ton of old items of Elvis’s youth.

“Mama really?” Elvis winces at the baby clothes in her hand.

“She doesn’t mind, do ya honey?” 

You shake your head enthusiastically, fighting back a smile. His cheeks get a bit pink when she gets the photos of him on the road taken recently.

Dinner was full of laughs and warmth, and Elvis keeps his hand on your thigh throughout the whole thing. It’s all so… intimate, and you expect yourself to clam up, but the moment never comes. You basically beg Gladys to let you do the dishes in return for the hospitality. She agrees but only if Elvis helps you. 

You wash, and he dries, like a well-oiled machine. For a period, there was a comfortable silence except for the small radio in the kitchen. 

“I liked seeing you here,” Elvis breaks the silence, glancing at you slightly. “Seeing you with mama, seeing you at the dinner table, seeing you upstairs.” 

He trails off at the end before letting out a laugh and shaking his head. He wants to say something more, you can tell. He takes a deep breath before continuing, focusing hard on the pot he’s drying as if it is giving him the will to go on.

“I like you in my life. I love you in my life.” He says slowly, as if he hopes you’re getting what he’s saying. “I love you.”

He ends the sentence firmly suddenly turning to you with puppy dog eyes.

Love. That’s a new word for you two. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You’re so entranced by his words you don’t even realize you haven’t said anything back. You watched his panic a bit while drying your hands on a towel

“You don’t have to say it back,” he rushes out. “I just couldn’t let you leave wi-“

You interrupt him by grabbing his face and pulling him down for a kiss. He seems a little shocked before wrapping his arms around your waist. You pull away rest your forehead to his.

“I love you too,” you murmur.

And with that you turn back to your dishes. Out of your peripheral you see him staring a bit dazed. He had not planned this love confession, let alone prepared himself for you feeling the same way.

“Those dishes aren’t gonna dry themselves Mr. Presley,” you nudge him playfully. He grins and turns back to the double sink.

“Yes ma’am.” 

Yeah, you can get used to this.

[powerofelvis]

Sweet Inspiration

Pairing: Elvis Presley x black!reader

Word Count: 8.2K

Summary: You’re apart of The Sweet Inspirations during Elvis’ Vegas shows. Elvis takes interest in your singing ability but also something else.

Warning(s): SMUT, handjob (f.receiving), oral (f.receiving), unprotected sex, mutual pining, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, a slight mention of the colonel, a literal love story sorta

A/N: My baby is finally here! This is part one of my Sweet Inspiration inspired saga. I adore The Sweet Inspirations and their music, so I figured I would write some fics based off of their beautiful songs. This fic is based off of their song, Sweet Inspiration. If you haven’t listened to it, you should. I have more coming so keep an eye out!

masterlist.

Bright lights had never attracted you until you and your sisters arrived in Las Vegas. You and your sisters were always singing in church or singing background vocals for local talents, but you would never have thought that the biggest name in the country would be interested in a group of black women born out of Newark, New Jersey. Elvis Presley had personally asked for you and your sisters to sing background vocals for him as he embarked on his six-week residency at The International, a new hotel that was built recently. Your sisters were excited that they were finally able to visit Las Vegas, but you were cautious about the new journey under the guidance of the proclaimed King of Rock and Roll. The day that you arrived in Vegas, a black Cadillac limo was waiting for you as you exited the plane—something that had ‘Elvis Presley’ written all over it. Your sisters rushed over to the long, black car with stars in their eyes, while you were usually the one who was nervously picking at your fingers. 

Your sisters would always try to get you to warm up to different things when it came to being in a singing group, but you were always the younger sister who would hide in the shadows while your older sisters were always in the spotlight. When you arrived at the hotel, you were amazed at how beautiful it looked. The lights sucked you in, almost as if you were meant to be a part of it. You immediately felt as if you were at home, the feeling warming you up in a swift fashion. As your sisters were getting settled in what would become your home for the next two months, you decided that you wanted to have a look around the hotel. The hotel was as beautiful inside as it was on the outside, and the decor was suitable for the Vegas theme. You were so into sightseeing that you didn’t notice that you were in direct line of sight of the man of the town. 

His cerulean hues hid behind his lavender sunglasses; the Vegas sun gleamed off of his Californian tan that fit with his red and black outfit. Today was the day that he would meet with his background singers and get to know their styles before the rehearsals began. His eyes landed on a woman who appeared to be examining the artifacts that sat in the lobby, her bronze complexion shining under the hotel’s shimmering lights. She was simply beautiful, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to approach. Elvis stopped Jerry, who was deep in conversation with Red about something he could care less about, his index finger lifting up slightly to point in the direction of the woman who was studying the painting on the wall. “Jerry, isn’t she one of the Sweet Inspirations?” Jerry’s eyes followed Elvis’ finger, taking in the beauty that had caught his friend’s eye not long ago before nodding his head. “Yeah, she is. She’s the younger one, I believe. Y/N.” 

Elvis had Jerry research The Drinkard Sisters, which is how you and your sisters ended up being his background singers. At that time, you and your sisters had released a few albums, gaining attention from different prominent named performers like Aretha Franklin. Although he was interested in the group as a whole, there was one voice that he couldn’t disregard. That voice sounded better than an Angel, better than any singing voice he had ever heard. He didn’t know which sister had the voice that he could hear in his dreams, but he knew that he would find out soon enough. You, on the other hand, were completely oblivious to the stares from Elvis Presley and his mafia. The artwork that littered the hotel’s lobby was too alluring to pass up. You weren’t usually interested in art, but you could appreciate it when it fit nicely with the decor. Your sisters wanted to be stars, yet you were only interested in becoming an interior decorator like your mother. “Y/N! We’ve been looking all over for you. Now you know that we must get ready to meet with Mister Presley, the orchestra, and the Imperials soon. You haven’t even put your things into your room. C’mon!” Your older sister, Cissy, pulled you along with her to head back up to the hallway where your rooms were. 

Once you were unpacked, Cissy and Dee Dee had to lead you down to the ballroom, where the orchestra and the Imperials were already present. You sat next to Cissy, introducing yourself to those who sat around you. The conversations were all mashed together as if everyone was trying to get their words in before the man of the hour arrived. Suddenly, the doors opened, and the conversations that you could once hear ceased as a group of men entered the room; their body language screamed that they were bodyguards. Following behind those men was Elvis Presley himself, his aura commanding the room like Cissy had warned you earlier. He was handsomely dressed, his eyes hidden behind lavender shades and his body wrapped in red satin as if he was royalty. Who were you kidding—this man was a literal walking God. Like a God, he commanded attention, and that’s exactly what he got. 

The room was so silent that you could hear a pin drop, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for what would happen next. Your eyes watched as he walked towards the middle of the room, pulling his shades down from his eyes before looking around the room—a grin across his lips. Your heart jumped into your chest at the sight of his cheeky smile, his canines shining in the light as he started around the room with his hellos. He finally made his way towards you and your sister, his blue eyes taking you in as your eyes also took him in. He was so handsome in person you had to stop yourself from staring at him on multiple occasions. “Hello there, lil’ mama.” His southern accent made your heart flip in your chest. You weren’t into southern men, but you could see that changing as you could listen to his voice on repeat over and over again. Your sister Cissy nudged you with her knee as she could tell that you would probably freeze up on the spot—introverted be damned. 

“Hello there, Mister Presley.”

“Mister Presley, huh? I see we are starting out on a professional level, lil’?” Elvis teased, his canines once again displaying for you. You knew he was playing a deadly game—throwing that million-dollar smile all over the place, his little dimple poking out for you to see. Your heart was about to jump out of your chest like a caged bird that was begging to be free, but you didn’t want him to know that he was having this effect on you. With that knowledge, you nodded your head, keeping your words at a minimum so that he could move on to the other performers who were in the room. He took the hint, introducing himself to your sisters before going through the Imperials lastly. Cissy looked over at you, tugging at the arm of your dress, smirking as she gave you a knowing look. “It looks like Mister Presley has taken a liking to you, Songbird.” She giggles as she moves her eyes away from you to look at Elvis as he moves around the room flawlessly—the chains on his outfit jingling as he starts to explain what his goal was for his shows. 

Your eyes followed him as he disclosed in admirable detail about his plans for how he wanted his shows to go. It was attractive to you—too attractive. You suddenly became excited about the shows and how often you would see Elvis during these next few weeks. Once his speech was over, Elvis sat in front of you and your sisters, his eyes never leaving your direction as he wanted to gain insight into your different styles. He was definitely not the self-absorbed man that others had warned him to be, yet he was very warm, invested, and humble to your every wants and need. You watched as he spoke; his hands moved in a careful way as if he wanted you to feel his emotions through his movements. Soon enough, you found yourself wanting to be close to him, wanting to sing with him. Elvis sat back in his chair as his blue eyes returned in your direction. “Sing for me, ladies. I’ve always wanted to hear your voices in person.” 

Cissy usually got the group started, but somehow, she wanted you to start it off. You glared at her, seeing her wickedly smiling before clearing your throat. “When you call me, baby, baby,” Your eyes closed as you always did when you were singing—not wanting the butterflies that you got from singing in front of Elvis Presley to ruin your octave. As expected, your sisters would sing their part after you, causing you to snap your fingers to keep everyone on key. “The way you call me darlin', darlin', darlin',” You made a grave mistake opening your eyes at that moment because your eyes landed on Elvis’ blues that were staring intensely at you as if he had found his life’s purpose. “And if I'm out in the rain, baby,” As each word passes your lips, Elvis’ eyes continue to darken, his hand squeezing his thigh as he watches you sing to your heart's content. You stopped at that point, looking over at Cissy, who was returning your gaze—utterly unaware of the moment that you were having with Elvis.

“That’s one helluva voice you have, darlin’. How about you stay behind and talk with me after this meeting is over?” You could have fallen out of your chair at that moment but settled with a slight nod as Elvis stood up from his chair, moving away from you but not before sending a sly smile in your direction. Dee Dee placed her hand on your shoulder, pulling you around to face her before a smirk crossed her lips. “And what was going on here, little bird?” She always called you ‘Bird’ when she wanted to tease you, so you automatically knew that she saw what was transpiring between you and Elvis. You shook your head before turning your head away from Dee Dee and the rest of your sisters, the ghost of a smile planted on your lips. You were sitting in your chair for the remainder of the meeting, thinking about whether you would leave with your sisters or stay to see what Elvis wanted to talk to you about. 

The meeting was over before you knew it; your brain and your heart were battling one another. Your brain was telling you that it was a bad idea to stay, you knew nothing about him, and the fact that he wanted to meet with you alone was enough to give you an uneasy feeling. However, your heart was intrigued by him. You wanted to gain more insight into his brain and learn about the art of music from him while also getting to know him all simultaneously. You chose to listen to your heart, staying seated as everyone cleared the room. Cissy and Dee Dee both gave you knowing looks while also silently asking you to take care of yourself. Although they both knew that it was such a great opportunity for one of their own to speak with Elvis Presley, you were also their little sister, so naturally, they were concerned for your well-being before anything else. You gave them a nod, letting them know that you would be fine, before standing up from your chair and going off to look for Elvis. You saw him sitting at the piano at the edge of the ballroom, his fingers moving exquisitely over the keys. “I asked Jerry to give me a little background on you and your sisters, so he sent me a few of your songs. There was one little lady whose voice caught my attention, especially in that Sweet Inspiration number that y’all sang earlier. I would have never guessed that it was the younger sister who could carry a note like that,”

You walked over to him, arms crossed, as you listened to him speak about the music you made with your sisters. In the back of your mind, you were screaming to turn away and leave him, begging your sisters to pack their things and leave Vegas on the next flight. However, your heart forced your legs to stay in place as you nodded your head to his words. “I’m normally the one who would lead if my sister Cissy doesn’t, especially in Sweet Inspiration because she was suffering from tonsillitis.” Elvis turned to look at you; no words were spoken as his eyes locked on yours. You could have sunken into the floor at his gaze, feeling like he was looking over you like a judge waiting to sentence you away. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, lil’ mama. But I-I believe you have the potential to be greater than Sweet Inspirations. Now, I know what you’re thinkin’, but hear me out first.” You were taken aback by his words, especially since you had only met this man an hour ago. Who did this man think he was telling you that you were better than your sisters? 

You decided to give him a chance to explain before you spoke your mind about his horrible decision to speak about things he clearly didn’t know anything about. “I ain’t sayin’ that you are better than your sisters. I’m not trying to say that at all. I believe your voice is worth way more than only singing in a group for the rest of ‘ya life, honey.” Your eyebrow raised as you silently pressed for him to go further. “I’m not askin’ you to leave the Sweet Inspirations because I know that it’s a family unit—you and your sisters, but I want to at least have some rehearsals one-on-one, get your voice together, and maybe we can get you some exposure on the solo stage.” Your eyes widened as you listened to what he was saying. He must’ve lost his mind. “Me? S-solo? Are you takin’ something, Mister Presley? There’s no way you honestly believe that I have the voice to be a soloist?” You were truly shocked at what you were hearing. Your sister Cissy had said the same words that Elvis was saying at this moment, but you had brushed her off—saying that she had no idea what she was talking about and that you were happy being with your sisters. “I’m telling you, Songbird. You deserve better than to be singing with us for the rest of your life. I don’t plan on doing it forever, you know? You should start thinking of your future,” 

Hearing your sister’s words in your head, you were now convinced that she must’ve meant well. Your eyes landed on Elvis as he was laughing under his breath at your words. “Nah honey, I’m not takin’ anything. I honestly believe that you should at least think about my proposition. ‘Ya don’t have to answer me right now, but think about it?” He pats next to him on the piano as he returns to play a tune you noticed: ‘Are You Lonesome Tonight?’ You sat next to him, smoothing out your dress before humming along with the notes. The music had begun to get into your soul, your lips singing the lyrics along with him. The vibrato of your voice had enchanted Elvis more than you could have ever imagined. As you harmonized with the notes that were being played on the piano, Elvis was thinking of ways that he could convince you to step outside of your comfort zone and embrace your calling. 

***

You finally finished with your meeting with Elvis, so you decided to go pay your sister, Cissy, a visit. You arrived at her hotel room, knocking on C the door. She appeared in front of you shortly after; the look of curiosity was written all over her features. “Bird, is something bothering you?” You shook your head at her, but she could tell that something was eating away at you. “Come in, bird.” Cissy stepped aside, allowing you to pass the threshold of her room before she closed the door behind you. You sat down on the couch in her room, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Elvis said the same thing you said the year before—about my thinking about my future.” 

“Is that right? What did he say to you?” Cissy walked over to you, sitting down beside you on the couch. “He said that I have the talent to sing solo, that I shouldn’t settle for singing with the Inspirations forever. I know you said it yourself that I should think about my future, Cissy. I’ve thought about it too. I thought maybe you were talkin’ out of your neck, but to hear it from none other than Elvis Presley? I don’t know what to do.” “How did he bring this up to you?” You stood up from the couch, pacing around the room like you always did when you were nervous. “He said that he had Jerry look into us, which is how he heard about our music. He heard our song, Sweet Inspiration, and said that he loved my voice. He said he wants to have one-on-one rehearsals with me to train my voice better and help me find solo music opportunities. What should I do, Cissy?” 

“Bird, I believe that you should follow your heart.” That sentence alone puts everything into perspective for you. You didn’t have to think any further about stepping away from your sisters and flying on your own. You wanted this for yourself; you wanted to grasp this opportunity before it was gone. Cissy knew that you were cautious about stepping out on your own because you always wanted your family to be happy. It was usually because of this thought that you were always the last to gain anything. You didn’t care if you got the short end of the bargain; as long as your family was happy, you were delighted. You thought that maybe making solo music would make your sisters unhappy, but when they heard the proposition that Elvis had given you, they were nothing but supportive. “Songbird, we know how beautiful your voice is. The Sweet Inspirations will come and go, but we will always be sisters.” Dee Dee spoke with admiration in her voice.

The next morning, you decided that you would find Elvis before the day of rehearsals began. You found him sitting in the middle of the stage in the showroom, talking to a man who sounded foreign. It seemed as if Elvis sensed that you were there because his eyes fell on your presence, waving you over to him. He whispered something to that mysterious man, who nodded his head before wobbling out of your line of sight. “You didn’t have to stop your conversation for me, Mister Presley.” “That was my manager, Colonel Parker. He had to go off and do something anyway. What can I do for ‘ya, chocolate mama?” You shook your head at the ridiculous nickname before walking up to him on the stage. “I thought about your proposition.” The stage was covered in chairs where the orchestra would be sitting and microphones which you knew would be for your group and the Imperials. “What’s the news, lil mama? Are we doing something or not?” 

“Count me in,” 

***

It was finally time for rehearsals with Elvis, and you were excited. You sat in your seat in between Cissy and Sylvia, drumming your fingers against your lap as everyone waited for Elvis to come in. You were in awe of him; his charisma owned the room as he walked in, everyone stopping what they were doing to watch him. Elvis could feel that you were watching him, a smile evident on his sun-kissed skin.

“It’s good to see you all here today. Let’s start off with ‘That’s All Right,’” 

You did know a few of his songs, as your parents did have some of his records, so you felt comfortable singing along. Elvis moved around the room, commanding the musicians to play their certain parts. You were amazed that he had such an ear for music; every horn and beat made your body dance. Sylvia nudged you as she clapped along, wiggling her brows as she noticed that you hadn’t taken your eyes off of him since he entered the room much earlier.You rolled your eyes as you bounced in your seat to the music, your hands clapping together in sync. Once Elvis was satisfied with how the music sounded, he turned towards you and the others, singing the first few lines of the song. Your eyes lifted from the floor to Elvis, noticing that he wasn’t watching everyone, but he was watching you. A keen smile on his face and his magnetic blues were bright as he pointed to you and your sisters for your cue. 

“That’s All Right! That’s All Right! That’s All Right! Anyway, you do.” 

At that point, you were completely lost in the music. Your body swayed with the beat, hands still clapping in sync as you sang along with your sisters and the Imperials. Elvis sang his praises as you harmonized with the music, completely stepping away from the background vocals. Like a child who found a newfound toy, you were happy. You no longer wanted to be an interior designer, but you wanted to pursue music—all thanks to your sister, Cissy, and the man you are now working for, Elvis Presley. 

Once everyone went through a couple of his songs for his first show, everyone dispersed to enjoy their free time before the show happened later that night. You were supposed to meet with Elvis after the first dinner show to go over some songs that he wanted you to practice singing, so you decided to spend the rest of the day with your older sister, Cissy. Cissy was very intrigued with how your conversation with Elvis went, pestering you with questions about how he took your decision. “I told you, Cissy, I’m gonna take him up on his offer. Who knows how this will go, but I need to step out of my comfort zone, as you said, right?” Cissy sighed as she took her little sister by the hand, rubbing her knuckles with her index finger. “I know what I said, bird! I’m just worried that it won’t end well for you. I want you to find your own way, not depend on someone who has already found theirs.” You nodded your head at her, pulling her into a hug as you would always do when you had heart to hearts. 

“I promise, Cissy, I will find my own way. I won’t depend on Elvis for the rest of my life.” You chuckled at her facial expression, that she always held when she was worried. If there was one person who worried more than your mother, it was your older sister. She worried when you started school, she worried when you got out of high school, when you started dating, and even when you weren’t dating. You used to think she was overbearing, but you’ve realized that she genuinely cared for your well-being. “Stop worrying, Cissy. I can take care of myself,” You pulled away from her, standing on your feet. “Now, you know we have to get ready for tonight. It takes Dee Dee years to fix her afro!” You exclaimed as you rolled your eyes at the thought of your middle sister standing in the way, picking her afro for almost an hour every time. Cissy nodded her head at your words, still holding the look of worry on her features but she knew that she couldn’t change your mind. 

The dinner show went off without a hitch, the atmosphere of singing up on stage simply vibrated you. You also didn’t miss the way that Elvis was watching you—his eyes were not as vibrant as they were when rehearsals happened earlier. You could feel his energy from your spot on the stage, and it electrified you. You could tell that he was also eating up the attention; his bravado of jokes and compliments never ceased as he spoke to the audience. Elvis Presley was simply a God when he was on the stage, something that you truly admired about him. As the show ended, your bundle of nerves began to show. In your mind, you were for sure that stepping out of your comfort zone to pursue a solo career was what you wanted. However, it didn’t stop the nagging thoughts from appearing from the back of your mind. What if you’re not good enough? Elvis must want something else to spend his precious time coaching someone who doesn’t even have the vocal range. Shut up. Shut up. 

You were in your own world until Jerry tapped you on your shoulder, bringing you out of your thoughts and back into reality. “Elvis is ready for you in his suite.” His suite? Oh, he must have lost his mind for sure. However, you didn’t say anything as you followed him into the elevator that only led to his penthouse. Here you are, not knowing this man for more than a few days, and you are already going to his room alone. Your mama would have slapped you silly if she knew about this. 

The elevator dinged, signaling that you were finally on his floor. Once the doors open, you step off the floor, following Jerry to Elvis’ front door. He knocked loudly before whipping his head towards you to signal you to enter once you heard that southern drawl that pulled you in on your first meeting. You sighed, opening the door to his penthouse suite, immediately noticing Elvis sitting at his piano in a totally different attire from the white jumpsuit that he wore at his first show. “Hey, baby! I’ve been waiting on ‘ya, come in. We ain’t gotta lot of time!” As you sat down next to him, your nervousness peaked into high gear. The smell of tobacco roaming into your nose with a mix of spice was enough to make your knees knock together nearly. Elvis didn’t waste any time, playing the beginning tune to ‘If I Can Dream.’ Your voice began singing along as well as you could until it was time for the midnight show to roll around. 

***

The midnight show went without a hitch, as your spirit was high on the music. Your sisters could tell that you were feeling the flow of the beat, following your lead as you sang to the best of your ability. After the show, you would meet with Elvis again, singing until you would get tired. He had the best remedies for keeping your voice from becoming hoarse and for keeping your vocal cords from becoming worn. You could also tell that Elvis was noticing how serious you were becoming at rehearsals, trying on multiple occasions to sing the songs that he would give you to the best of your ability. 

It was now two weeks since you arrived in Vegas with your sisters, but now you were spending more time with Elvis than your sisters. Your sister, Cissy, pulled you to the side before the midnight show, much to your chagrin. “You’ve been hanging with Elvis too much, songbird. You know about his reputation, right? You know I worry-” You put your hand up to quiet her down before taking a deep breath. “There is nothing going on between Elvis and me, Cissy. He’s mostly my vocal coach, and I’m his student.” You sighed as she continued to try to speak, your arms crossed as you listened. It was always a never ending battle between you and Cissy. She was always worried and you would always bend the knee to her. 

“Cissy, I told you earlier that I would not do anything that you and the others would worry about, didn’t I? I’m finally able to see the dream coming true for me. Just let me be my own person!” You placed your hands on her shoulders before pressing a kiss to her forehead. You walked away from her, getting into place before the show began. You were a grown-up, there was no reason for your sisters to worry so much about you. As usual, the show went without issues and you were feeling the music, your voice being the leading voice in the background. 

However, this show was highly different once it ended. Instead of your usual meetings with Jerry before heading up to see Elvis, Elvis was the one waiting for you. “I need to talk to you privately, darlin’. I have something that’s been on my chest for a while.” Your brow raised as you could feel your sisters watching the two of you like you are their favorite soap opera. You took him by the arm, leading him away from them until you found a spot behind the stage where there were no wandering eyes. “What’s the matter, E?” 

Elvis wouldn’t look at you, almost as if he was a little boy who was in trouble for digging his hand in the cookie jar. Your hand moved under his chin, tilting his head up slightly so that his beautiful eyes were looking into yours. “E, what’s up?” You needed to know what was seriously bothering him. Elvis didn’t say a word as his hands rested on your hips, pulling you into his embrace before his head moved down to capture your lips into a passionate kiss. You gasped, giving him the opportunity to move his tongue into your mouth. You were shocked beyond measure, but also awfully turned on at the fact that Elvis Presley was kissing you. This was the dream of every woman in the world, yet you weren’t anything special. 

You pulled away from him, desperately trying to catch your breath as you stepped away from him. “Is that what you wanted to say?” You couldn’t meet his eyes as he shook his head. “Mama, I-I-I know that was a lot for ya, but rehearsing with ya for these past two weeks have opened up my eyes. I wanna be serious here. I know you heard about the reputation that I’m supposed to have, but it’s nothing but lies, mama. I want ya to know the real Elvis, not what you hear in the magazines.” Part of you didn’t care about what he was explaining, but a huge part of you knew that everything that he was saying was the truth. 

“Elvis, I’m not mad at you. But I think I need time to at least think about what you’re saying. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You backed away from him before turning away as you walked back to your sisters. You couldn’t face Elvis, especially not after you had a conversation with your sister about taking care of yourself. You went back to your room, not wanting to look at your sisters either—ignoring their calls for you to join them for dinner or the casino. You couldn’t face anyone so you sat in your room as you withered in your own self-pity. 

***

After the surprising kiss that you had experienced after the midnight show, you found yourself unable to face Elvis. You were supposed to be rehearsing the next night before his midnight show so you were filled entirely with nerves at the idea of being so close to Elvis again. However, as you slid on your yellow Mondrian dress over your slip, your nerves turned into the feelings that you were gaining during your stay here in Las Vegas with him. You were no longer only there to appease your sisters, to step out of your comfort zone of being actual musicians, but you were there to be in Elvis’ company—sing melodies while he physically touches you. 

“Elvis is waiting for you, Y/N,” Jerry spoke as you opened the door of your room, revealing the blonde-colored man. 

You took a deep breath, fiddling with your dress before checking your tousled hair before you headed towards the man of the hour. The elevator ride was pretty easy; a little light conversation with Jerry about your experience being in Vegas and here at the International. He would tell you that if you needed anything, he was your guy to come to, as he had all of the right connections to get you settled in. You nodded at his words, a little smile spreading on your lips to mask your nervousness as you thanked him for his offer. 

The toggle light in the elevator flashed the penthouse floor, acknowledging that you were once again about to come face-to-face with Elvis. The butterflies in your stomach coming forward in full force as you took in a few shaken breaths, Jerry placed his hand on your shoulder before speaking slowly that only you could hear. “You are good for E.P., Y/N. Don’t let him slip away from you.” The words didn’t connect right away as you nodded under confusion at his declaration. As the doors of the elevator opened before you, you wasted no time heading towards his door as you knew he hated it when you were late. 

You knocked in a morse code, the one that lets him know that it was you, taking one more shaky breath before the door opened before you. “There you are, Songbird. Come on in; I’ve got some songs I want you to sing for me,” The atmosphere was completely different than the first time that you were there; you didn’t miss the little things, such as the outfit of choice for him. He was wearing only his robe, but you could tell that he didn’t have anything on up underneath. “Songbird, I wish I could tell you how much I’m sorry about last night, but honestly, darlin’, I’m not. You see, I’ve been craving ‘ya ever since I laid eyes on you in the lobby. Seeing that you have a wonderful singing voice, I wanna try something out with ‘ya, baby.” 

Now here you are sitting behind the piano with Elvis, his fingers deep inside of you. 

Your fingers were digging into the wood of the piano, trying your hardest to continue singing on key. “C’mon, Songbird, how many fingers will it take for you to sing from your diaphragm?” Your breathing was labored as you clenched around his fingers, his lips near the shell of your ear as you desperately sang along to the lyrics of songs that he gave you. Elvis knew what kind of game he was playing, and he knew he had you exactly where he wanted you. So, as he watched you attempt to sing in a higher octave, his ring-clad fingers pushed inside of your pussy, brushing against your walls. You were writhing beside him, and he knew that he didn’t have time to have you beneath him, but you soon would be—it was only a matter of time before he had you in his bed. 

You gasped as your orgasm crashed over you, your voice hitting the perfect octave that he wanted. “Good girl, now when we go to the midnight show, I want ‘ya to hit those notes for me. I wanna hear you and only you, understand me, darlin’?” You nodded your head as you could feel your juices sliding down your legs as he pulled his fingers out of your vagina with a sploshing noise. His tongue passed his lips as he placed his glistening fingers in his mouth, licking and sucking his fingers clean. 

When the midnight show came around, you stood next to your sisters as the music began to play, your body bouncing along to the beat. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Elvis walk past you in all of his glory, his eyes landing on you as he gave you a little smirk. His lips mouthed, ‘hit those notes, sugar’ before he walked further on the stage. You instantly felt your arousal pool underneath your skirt, but he had made sure that he had taken your panties earlier after your little rehearsal. Your juices were dripping down your legs as you watched him thrust around the stage, singing his heart out. Elvis would sometimes move over to where you were standing throughout the show, his hips still thrusting in specific directions, the atmosphere becoming filled with sexual tension to the point that you could have almost orgasmed untouched by his presence alone. 

He was so close to you, yet you couldn’t reach out and touch him like you wanted. Your sisters noticed how you were moving out of sync with them, Cissy nudging you on multiple occasions to tell you to get yourself together. “Snap out of it, bird. Elvis is watching you,” Oh, you knew he was watching you, but he wasn’t watching for the reasons that Cissy thought. His bedroom eyes were calling out to you, begging for you to come closer. You wanted him, and you were gonna get him tonight if you were lucky. The show neared its end with him walking through the crowd, kissing random women as he always did before he ended with “Can’t Help Falling In Love.” You were expected to sing the higher notes during that song as Elvis rehearsed this particular song on multiple occasions with you. 

You hit the high notes perfectly, catching Elvis holding his hand over his chest as he heard you over everyone else—like he wanted. 

Once the curtains fell, you were immediately surrounded by your sisters, who looked at you with confusion at your earlier movements. “Songbird, have you lost your mind? You know how perfect Elvis wanted his show to go, and here you go messing shit up and being out of sync with the rest of us!” Dee Dee threw her hands up as she always did when she fussed you out. You were apologizing profusely, but you could only think about running your fingers through Elvis’ hair as your lips desperately kissed at his. As your sisters continued their tirade of your behavior earlier, you felt a tap on your shoulder followed by a cleared throat. Jerry. You softly smiled as you turned around, being more than happy to see him since you’d been in Vegas. “E.P. wants to speak with you privately, Y/N.”

Your sisters looked over at you with a look of “you’re in trouble now, bird,” but you knew differently. If only y’all knew what he is about to do to me, you thought. Jerry didn’t have to show you up to where you would meet Elvis; the meetings all happened at the same place—his penthouse. You had expected to see Elvis still in his jumpsuit from earlier, a towel in hand as he dried the sweat that you so desperately wanted to lick off of his body. However, he was dressed in his robe once again, sitting in a chair that was directly in the line of sight of the doorway, his legs spread as if he was beckoning you closer. 

“I can see that my idea of you not wearing your panties worked out in my favor, little mama. I could see your juices dripping from the middle of the stage,” His southern drawl making you nearly fall to your knees as you walked into the middle of the room, your heart picking up with every step that you took. Your stage outfit suddenly became uncomfortable as you stood in front of the man who was willing to take a chance on you, willing to take a chance to find your happiness. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to show him your gratitude. “You followed my directions too, mama. I could hear you over your sisters; that voice…made me hard,” 

You nearly choked at his words as your fingers gripped your skirt as they itched to lace in his wet hair, pulling him closer to you. “I had coaching, he knows his stuff.” You forced out, your voice becoming very shaky as you stood in front of him. His hands reached out, wrapping around your waist as he pulled you down on his lap. You lightly squealed, but you didn’t bother moving on his lap as you were frozen on the spot. His fingers moved up your skirt, brushing against your pussy slightly. Your body arched off of his lap, whimpers passing your lips as you were finally being touched. “You deserve a reward, mama. I’m gonna give it to you, like the southern gentleman that I am.” He chuckled as he knew that you weren’t attracted to any other southern man other than him. 

Your legs spread as you sat on his lap; Elvis was brushing his fingers against your folds, watching as you writhed with need on his lap. With each movement, he became more solid under his robe as he watched you silently beg for more. He picked you up off of his lap, holding you into his arms as he stood up from his seat before laying you down on the bed. Your bronze skin glistened under the light as the sweat pooling on your skin from the tension that was between the two of them. His fingers skillfully unzipped your dress, pulling it off of your body before discarding it on the floor. “Your body is as beautiful as I imagined, mama. I should’ve taken you earlier, but I ain’t wanna run you away,” He whispered against the shell of your ear, smirking as you shivered at his closeness. 

Your whimpers and moans were enough to push him forward, his hands moving up your thighs before pushing them apart to see his prize. You were slick, the juices still dripping from your pussy from earlier. His tongue danced across his bottom lip, a smirk playing on his lips as he got down on his knees in front of you as if he was worshiping God. His hands pushed your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer to his mouth, his lips wrapping around your sensitive bud. Your moans filled the room as you watched Elvis eat your vagina, the slurping noises becoming a part of the pleasure for you. Your fingers tangled in his soft satin sheets, your head thrown back in ecstasy as his name passed your lips like a prayer. 

Elvis slid his index finger in between your folds before sliding inside of you as he tongued your pussy in such a way that you could have sworn that you were seeing stars. Suddenly everything became worth it—the rehearsals, the sexual tension, and even the kiss at the midnight show as you were finally getting pleasure from the man who you yearned for. As if he didn’t tease enough, he was in front of you, eating your pussy like a starved man who hadn’t eaten in weeks. “Elvis!” You whimpered as you lifted your head up to catch his now darkened eyes, watching your every move from underneath his long, beautiful lashes. 

He hummed as his tongue played in between your folds, making your legs shake from his shoulders. “Please, I need you..don’t tease me no more,” Your voice was barely a whisper, but he heard you. He pulled his fingers and his lips from your pussy before he moved your legs back to the bed. He wasn’t even eating your pussy for long, yet you couldn’t feel your legs. He had given you the Bambi effect, but you weren’t complaining. He crawled on top of you, his fingers moving up your soft skin before he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. You shivered with anticipation as you could taste yourself on his lips, your arousal peeking once more. 

Your hands moved to his robe, untying it slowly before moving up to his shoulders, pushing it off of his body. His tanned skin was soft under your fingertips as your hands drifted from his shoulder blades down to his chest, where his chest hair sat. Your fingers tangled in those hairs, your brown eyes locked on his dark blues, a silent communication between the both of you as his cock danced between your folds. You were caught in his trance, moans sounding almost pornographic as he pushed his cock into you. His hands found yours, pushing them down against the mattress as he laced them with yours, his forehead against yours. “Since the first day that I saw you, baby, I knew I had to make you my woman.” 

His confession should have shocked you, but this was Elvis Presley that you were talking about. If he wanted anything or anyone, he would get it. If he wanted you, he would have you, no matter what he had to do. You said nothing in return, but your head nodded as you moaned out in pleasure as his hips slowly pistoned into you. His lips moved from yours, down your jawline until he sucked at the place where your jawline and ear met. You shivered as the electricity coarsed through your body as your pussy was being pounded into. He let go of one of your hands, placing his hand on your jaw as he forced you to look into his eyes as he whispered things that your sisters and your mama would make you repent for if they heard, telling you over and over again that you belonged to him and only him. 

Skin slapping echoed in the room as Elvis continued pushing into you, his grunts sounding beautiful as they passed his lips. His hands caressed down your bronze skin, smearing the sweat that dripped from his black hair over your skin. You didn’t mind it; the feeling of him making love to you was all that your mind could focus on. “Look at me, mama. Don’t you take those beautiful chocolate eyes off of me.” Elvis commanded, his hand moved back to your neck, wrapping around your throat gently. You did exactly what he asked, your body shivering with pleasure at the sight of his eyes looking deep into your soul. The dirty words, the eye contact, and even the touches were enough to set your body on fire—needing only him to cool you down. 

Your orgasm slowly builds up inside of you as Elvis hits your spot over and over again, his hips slowly swiveling inside of you, his southern accent whispering dirty things, whispering promises into your ear as if you could do nothing but whimper in response. “I want you to come apart for me, little one. Give me that sweet nectar,” That was all you needed to hear as your orgasm crashed over your body, the shivers becoming uncontrollable as your fingers held on to the sheets once again, his name passing your lips like a mantra. Elvis continued fucking into you, chasing his own orgasm as your pussy clenched around him over and over again.

“Goddamn, little mama. If you don’t stop clenching, I’m gon’ seriously give you a baby.” He chuckled as he thrusted into you a few more times before pulling out of you, shooting his load on your stomach. Elvis knew that he wanted nothing more than to stay inside of you, but he didn’t want to stand in the way of your future as a soloist. He would have to have a conversation with you before he decided to cum inside of you. He wasn’t an asshole after all; his mama taught him better than to take advantage of women. He grabbed the towel that he pulled out earlier as he waited for your return, wiping his cum off of your body before he cleaned himself off, discarding the material on the floor.

Elvis turned back to look at you, completely in awe as you watched him with your soft chocolate eyes. The look in your eyes was enough to make a grown man cry, but he was too much of a man to break. Surely, this wasn’t the last time that he would be inside of you, pushing you near the brink of uncontrollable pleasure as he continued whispering the dirty things that he wanted to do to you over and over again. Maybe it was because he witnessed you come apart on the stage from his voice and gaze alone, but he wanted to experience it as much as he could. He knew that the six-week residency would end eventually, but he wanted to keep you around. 

He knew that you wanted to stay around him as well, noticing how you would look at your sisters every time they got on to you about “messing things up” for him on stage. He didn’t care what you did; he needed to experience you over and over again. Hear your angelic voice sing his name as he continues to push orgasm on top of orgasm out of your beautiful body. As Elvis watched you close your chocolate eyes and wrap your arms around his body, your beautiful manicured nails raking in his chest chair, he began to think of ways that he could keep you by his side for the long run. 

Taglist:

@lindszeppelin @aconflagrationofmyown @headfullofpresley @austinbutlersbaby @rosaminny @missmaywemeetagain @stitchattacks @ep-supremacy @oh-my-front-door @oh-kurva @bisexualwvtson @steph-speaks @stephthestallion @literally-just-elvis-fics @foreverdolly @lovininapinkcadillac @loveforelvis @flwrs4aust @samfangirls @cryingabtab @polksalademma @rainydayz101 @woundmetender

[idkwhatimdoingherehonestlyy]

Moments like these | Austin!elvis

Warnings : super fluffy. mentions of alcohol . — I don’t really check my spelling so if something’s messed up I’m sorry!

I have never really written before soo pls criticize me with stuff but pls don’t be to harsh given this is my first time 💞

Austin!elvis x Fem!reader (I will also try to write with black fem reader in the future considering I am a black girl but this just fem reader todayyy <33

—————————————

Elvis hated a crowded space.

He loved privacy and spending time with people who were closest to him.

But he was in for a rude awakening when his friends from the Memphis mafia asked him if they could use his house to throw a going away party before his tour.

Elvis was never a party animal. He was pretty laid back and just enjoyed calm spaces.

So originally his answer was no. “I don’t want no goddamn strangers runnin around my house, No billy” was his first answer.

So the boys went to phase 2, which was you.

You were Elvis’s baby, you could convince him to do almost anything, but you didn’t want to force him to throw a party he obviously wasn’t comfortable with.

“What’s in it for me tho? Guys if he doesn’t want to do it just leave it alone! ” “Please y/n your the only one who could convince him to do anything” Billy tried to reason with you.

So after a while of almost the whole Memphis mafia nagging you, you finally said yes. So that’s how you are in this predicament, Your currently sitting in Graceland chatting it up with some friends while random strangers you’ve never met before wander around the house.

“Girl how did you even get Elvis to agree to all of this you know he hates parties” Zina, your friend spoke up

“Well it didn’t really take much convincin’ you replied back, You were telling the truth it didn’t it was almost in clockwork for him to say yes to you.

“Speaking of elvis let me go find ‘em!” You said to the little friend group you were talking to. They waved you off and with that you walked off to go find your boyfriend.

After walking for a while you finally found him. Sitting off in a corner, manspreading, with a beer in his hand. Elvis hardly drank only when he was stressed and wanting to get really relaxed.

“Hey baby” you said as you softly rubbed his hand.

“Mm hi mama, you havin’ fun?” He said taking off the black sunglasses looking back to you with his sweet southern drawl sounding really tired.

“Yes, but you don’t sound like your having much fun.” You stated with an apologetic look and tone.

He took a swig of the beer in his hand

“I’m fine don’ worry about me” He grabbed your hand kissing it looking up to you with those intensely blue eyes you loved so much.

“Uh uh elvis, look how tired you are let’s just go upstairs” You tried to convince him, rubbing your hands up and down his arms.

“But mama if your having fun I don’t want to make you go upstairs” That made you smile. He was always worried about other people more than he worried about himself

“Stop it cmon’ I can tell your already drunk” You whined as you reached out for him, receiving a groan.

He sweetly accepted taking both of your arms as you two walked upstairs to his room.

Once you made it into his room, you went into your bag that you always took to his house when you slept over and reached for your nighties to change into.

“Babe get comfortable please” You said as you watched him click on the tv and just get under the covers with his regular clothes still on.

“I am comfortable!” He whined but tried to sound tough at the same time, which you saw straight through.

You huffed walking towards his dresser opening his night drawer and grabbing his sleep clothes walking up to him, exchanging the sleep clothes with the tv remote.

“Urgh” he groaned walking towards the bathroom with the clothes in his hand. You following behind him

You giggled and started to undress and elvis was starting to stare at you. “It’s rude to stare” you giggled some more pulling up your nightie and fixing the straps, It was smaller than you want to admit.

You pulled out your pink toothbrush and started to brush your teeth as Elvis did the same

Once you finished you started to walk out until you felt his hand collide with your butt.

“ELVIS AARON PRESLEY! I know your mama raised you better than that” You said practically screaming at him.

He sent you a sweet toothy smirk before laughing at you “Sorry mama just so much back there, Can’t help myself.” You rolled your eyes at that. Sometimes he just had to act so childish

You walked over to the bed pulling the covers over your body and Elvis was right behind you.

You put yourself under the covers giggling at him, As he large arms pulled you across the bed to cuddle you.

“I love you” you whimpered kissing all over his face.

“I love you more” He groaned, his hands still on your waist.

“I hate when you do that you make it seem like I don’t have alot of love for you” You send him a sassy remark.

“Y/n go to sleep before I put you to sleep and we don’t want that” He said kissing and nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Mhm yea” you agreed with him

And with that you dozed off to asleep! Drowning out the party wrapped around eachother. It was moments like these that made you realize that you loved Elvis Presley more than you loved anyone in your life.

��———————————————-

A/n : soooo what do you guys think?🥺 This is my first time writing so any other writers please let me know what I could fix!!

Also you can request just please don’t request any smut, I don’t feel comfortable writing it in really sorry💞

[beeandheroddobsessions]

Drop It!

Warnings: Supernatural elements. Dead!Elvis. Reader’s father is dead. Reader denotes elvis to his face. Dilapidated Graceland.

Summary: It’s move-in day! Reader spends the day fixing up the house. By the end of the night, she just wants to relax but something, or someone, needs to talk to her.

A/N: I am fully aware that graceland is cared for and not at all in ruin but the story calls for it. I put a lot of thought into this series and i really want everyone to enjoy it! The story is inspired by my house and what it’s like living here. though i’ve never come face to face with my goulish friends, i do respect them. A small bit, while comical, is something i actually did experience. Granted, i never spoke to anyone, or at least, never got an audible response. Most of this series includes odd happenings that i’ve dealt with. Isn’t that fun? Non-beliver or not, i hope you enjoy it. Happy reading- Bee💕

September 2023

The keys resting in your palms bring nothing but joy, even after dealing with a snippy mother and grumbling movers on an overcast Thursday afternoon. It should've been alarming, the way that realtor hightailed it off the property, but you were just glad to get your hands on what once was a beautiful home.

Graceland had nearly fallen to ruin; once the previous owner's legacy began to deteriorate, so did respect for the house. Squatters, Drug dealers, vandals, this house has seen it all. Yet, under all that muck and destruction, you saw a chance to restore its beauty.

Your mother was a bit...perturbed by the decision, wondering what she had done in your childhood that could've led to this point. When the idea was first pitched, she laughed it off, assuming it was another one of your odd bouts, like it was some fairytale. So imagine her surprise when you tossed the paperwork onto the breakfast table.

Your mother's concerns only doubled when she actually saw the house. Move-in day is supposed to be exciting, and for you, it is. Pushing past the doors into your new home is something magical. You don't know where to start. The kitchen? The front room? Upstairs? It's all so tempting.

"Mama, this place, it's so beautiful. Doesn't it jus' make you wanna cry?" You exclaim, unable to contain the excitement rushing through your body.

"...That's...well, that's one way to put it." your mother says, watching for possible loose beams as you traverse through the house.

You kiss your teeth at her tone and begin rattling on about your ideas for the space.

"I can fix her up in no time. We can start with the walls; they only need a few patches and a fresh coat a' paint. Oh! And then we can work on the floors. And I'm sure we can find some replicas or have 'em made. I think-"

"Y/n!" your mother interrupts, "Rome wasn't built in a day, baby. Don't get too ahead of yourself. You already broke the bank buyin' this...place and-"

You shake your head "Mama, don't you know who used to live here? Daddy woulda-"

The older woman before you holds up her hand, face dropping into an unamused expression. "Don't compare me to your daddy; we never did have the same tastes. And of course, I know; Elvis was my crush before you were even thought of."

You tilt your head, shifting to move a box. "But you just said you n' daddy didn’t have the same-"

She cuts you off before you can finish your thought. "Hush up and listen to your mama." A chuckle leaves your mouth as she scolds you.

"After all this time, daddy still can't catch a break?"

Your mother lets out a saddened sigh, "Well, he may not be here physically, but pokin' fun at him is the only way I know he's still around."

Your shoulders drop, and you set the box down. Your father passed away six years ago; he didn't want his family knowing he was sick. You thought it was a cruel joke, some twisted prank set to traumatize you forever. The wails your mother let out that night on the kitchen floor told you otherwise. She tries to pretend but hasn't been the same since—the idea of remarrying tossed to the wind like a dandelion's pappi.

"Mama, don't you think daddy would've wanted you to let him go?" you lament, hoping your mother would consider it this time. But, alas, the notion is shot down once again.

"You may not believe in ghosts or the afterlife, y/n, but I do. Your daddy is always with me. It wouldn't be right to get hitched in his face."

You shrug and continue unpacking, "If you say so mama, I jus couldn't imagine stickin' it out till the very end." That statement seems to tickle your mama pink. "You ain't never been in love, sugar pie. When you meet your mister right, you'll know what I mean."

You purse your lips. Even while talking about her dead husband, she hints at your sad love life. To you, love is just a feeling, and the dead are just that, dead. So your mother's musings about 'ghosts' and 'true loves' are nothing short of fantasy in your world.

"O...kay. Well, we've got a lot to do, and we've been talkin' bout nothin' for ten whole minutes. Let's hop to it!"

Your mother rolls her eyes, "This ain't my dream house, honey. I ain't GOT to do nothin' but stay black and die."

"Oh, here you go with that mess. You agreed to help your only baby move in so that I wouldn't 'die in my sleep cause some spider decided to munch on me,' so don't give me none of that." You mock.

Your mother pops your arm and grabs a broom. "You yo' daddy's daughter, alright. Couldn't have got that mouth from me." She mutters.

For the next four hours, the two of you dispose of odd findings, scrub, wash, disinfect, and grumble through the house. By the time you finish, the home is as clean as clean gets. The sun has set, and all you want to do is eat and sleep. The last thing to set up is the bedroom.

You feel a little strange sleeping in a room that once belonged to such a legend, but he isn't here, and the house belongs to you. The wall of TVs would be dealt with later. For now, a flatscreen was simply placed in front of them; aside from that, you pre-ordered replicas of the bedroom furniture, not wanting to personalize too much.

After kissing your mother goodbye, you trudge up the stairs, stopping halfway to crack your back. Once you return to the master suite, flopping on the bed only seems fitting. A groan escapes you as you realize you still need to shower. Rolling over, you grab a towel from your suitcase, lay out some pajamas on the center of the bed, and head for the bathroom.

While waiting for the water to warm, perched on the porcelain throne, the lights flicker. You'll need to replace the bulbs later; simple fix.

When the water reaches hell, you waste no time jumping in. It soothes your aching body, and all of the tension from today washes down the drain. You hum a nonsensical tune to keep you entertained while you clean away the dirt and grime. In the middle of the improvised song, a crash steals your attention.

You finish rinsing and shut off the water, quickly making your way to the bedroom door. You aren't going to investigate; too bright (or too experienced in the horror genre) to even give that a thought. No, you lock the door and mind your business; that is a morning problem.

When you turn back to retrieve your nightwear, you find them on a chair in the corner of the room. Odd. You could've sworn you left them in the middle of the bed. Whatever, you think as you throw them on.

Plopping down on the edge of the bed, you grab the remote and turn the TV on—finally, a moment of peace. You flick through Netflix, desperate to find good background noise. Landing on your favorite show, 'The Good Place,' is enough for you. It's ironic, don't believe in anything after death, or love, and here you are, watching two dead people fall in love.

Halfway through Episode six, the source of entertainment shuts off. You huff; it was getting good too. The remote is behind you, out of reach, so you aren't exactly sure what could've caused this.

"Probably just a glitch," you mumble, turning the TV back on and resuming your minor addiction. This time, you place the remote on the dresser, ensuring no interruptions.

Despite your effort, it happens again; A guttural noise leaves your body. You're broke in a house that's falling apart with no man, pets, and no energy. TV is the one pleasure you have left, and even that is beginning to frustrate you.

Repeating the process, you hold the remote in your hands, eyebrows raised, daring your peace to try and leave again. After a few moments, you sigh in relief as the halfway point passes and set the remote down. As soon as it comes in contact with the plush, black comforter, the TV again fails you.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." You exclaim.

"Ladies shouldn't swear; ain't attractive." A voice bellows from behind you. A shrill shriek is all that is heard as you scramble off the bed. Your eyes search for the source but find nothing. Slowly, you creep toward the bed and snatch up the remote. "Can't go downstairs till morning, and I'm losin' it in here. What a night." You whisper.

A shiver rolls through your body, and you decide it's better to sit on the floor. Again you try with your tv (which you will be returning in the morning), and of course, that doesn't last long.

"Sugarpie, I don't wanna see that junk. If you're gon' watch somethin' in my bed, I suggest it be somethin' good. Not some trash show that don't know the first thing bout bein' dead." The strange voice booms again.

This time when you jump out of your skin and turn to face the intruder, you see what you can only assume to be the world's most accurate Elvis impersonator.

"What the hell are you doin' in my house?!" You screech, "Get out! Get the hell out."

The man before you is nowhere near ready for the projectiles flying his way. Clothes, shoes, books, and a stuffed bear. You name it; it's flying at his head.

"Hey! I—I said—, goddamn! You got an arm on ya! Put the—,"

Elvis can't even finish his sentence as you continue to fling whatever you can at him.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House!" You grunt, each word punctuated with the throw of an object. The tall, blue-eyed stranger ducks and dodges with precision, but when he sees you getting ready to toss a picture frame, one you no doubt failed to realize the importance of in your defensive state, the fun and games stop.

"Drop it! Drop that damn picture right now! Your mama would tan your hide for days if she saw that you broke that frame." Elvis booms.

Your chest is heaving, and you blink, glancing over at the photo.

"S'your daddy, right? Y'all were talkin' in the kitchen bout how it's the last thing he gave ya. You promised ta take care of it. So drop it."

You nod and gently place the photo on the bed, reaching for a good substitute.

"Jus—Just how long have you been here?" you question, ready to launch the lamp in your hand. Elvis ponders for a moment. "What year is it?" He asks, seeming genuine. You quirk an eyebrow, unamused with the game he's playing. "You can't be serious."

He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an actual answer. Your phone is across the room, and the chances of getting past this psycho-wannabe Elvis are slim to none. So, you entertain him. "It's twenty-twenty-three, you should know that." You say, face stoic.

Elvis's eyes widen, "Twenty- Good lord!" He chuckles in disbelief.

"Well, to answer your question lil' mama, if that's true, I've been here for sixty-six years if you're countin' when I bought the house."

You shake your head; there's no way the idiot in front of you is this dedicated. "Yeah, sure, I reckon you want me to believe you're Elvis Presley himself. Is that what this is? Some attempt to scare me?"

Elvis chuckles and shakes his head, "No, ma'am. Ain't no pretendin' round here. I'm the real deal."

You can't help the cackle that slips past your lips.

"My ass!"

Elvis's smirk fades, "I told ya that shit isn't cute. And if ya don't believe me, try to shake my hand." He says, extending the appendage forward.

You scrunch your nose, "Now, why would I do that?"

He shrugs, hand still held out.

"Well, I ain't goin' nowhere for a long time n' you're the first person to see or hear me in ages. Whether ya do or don't, it really ain't too concernin' for me."

You sigh, knowing this is how dumb girls in movies usually meet their end. Can't believe m'doin' this. Shakily, you extend your hand, and when it meets his, it goes right through. You gasp as the limb turns to smoke before materializing again.

"Sweet jesus," you sputter.

"I wouldn't know if he was sweet, I ain't met him yet." Elvis jokes. You back away, very spooked.

"T-This, this isn't possible. Ghosts they—they aren't-"

"Real?" Elvis cuts you off, "Yeah, I heard that part too, jus didn't wanna scare your mama, so I waited till it was jus you n' me."

You scoff, offended, "My mama gets a pass, and I don't?"

He chuckles and sits on the bed, "She believed, you didn't. For someone with a gift this great, ya sure do love ta act like ya don't know what she's talkin' about."

You fold your arms, looking down, "I don't have-"

"Oh, yes ya do. Don't give me none of that. I spent the whole afternoon chit-chattin' with your old man. "

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. "You spoke to my daddy? How is he? Did he ask bout mama? Because she'd be thrilled. I gave up. I knew I shouldn't have. I'd been tryin' to reach him since he died, but he never-" The smug look on Elvis's face shuts you up.

"Well, first off. Why would ya need to call a man who's in the same house as ya? Second, you'd been tryin' so hard to find happiness for a woman who don't need it, that ya pushed your daddy away anytime he tried. A ghost can only do so much without scarin' someone half to death, baby."

This is all too much; Ghosts exist, Elvis Presley is in front of you, and your daddy hasn't moved on. Mama was right. You lift the covers and shimmy under them.

"I need to sleep on this. Jus—I...I don't know where you go, but scram for the night please."

Elvis chuckles, nodding. In a flash, he evaporates, fumes left behind as he finds another room to settle in.

You breathe through your nose as you think. What a night indeed, miss y/n.

Taglist: @prayerstopresley @powerofelvis @re3kin