#elvis!austin

[butlers-bitch]

pics of Austin you took 📸😉

[wanderingelvis]

Hi, So can you do one with innocent reader where like she meets the mafia for the first time and they ask her sexual questions but she like wtf.

I love this!! I love interactions with the Mafia! Thank you for the request, enjoy! 🧚🏻

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

word count: 1,448

pairing: elvis x female!reader

warnings: mention of religion and sex

You were spending time in Elvis' lavish hotel suite with Elvis and the Mafia as you all took a break from the constant and relentless routine of shows. You'd just joined them all on the road as a backing singer and Elvis had taken an instant liking to you. You were docile and compliant, happy to do whatever he, or anyone else, wanted. He loved that he could mold you into whatever he wanted without taking away from your bubbly little personality.

You liked Elvis too, he never really pushed your limits like your singing coach would or some of the executives on the tour would. He was a safe haven. However, the same couldn't really be said for his entourage, the Memphis Mafia. It's not that you didn't like them, you just figured they didn't like you. You were quiet, reserved and shy and they were all the entire opposite of that. 

They hadn't really bothered to interact with you much either, they would barely even glance your way usually. Little did you know that they knew better than to speak to you. You were Elvis' little girl only.

Right now, you were busy telling Elvis all about how excited you were at the prospect of performing at a local carnival show, that it might be your biggest audience yet and that you were nervous but eager to do it.

"Pretty girl like you is gonna have all the boys and men flocking to you after that little show you give 'em. But I bet you're already used to that." Elvis mused, brushing away a curl of hair that had fallen in front of you face.

"Well, no actually." You said, oblivious the eyes staring down at her from one of the most famous men in the world, as well as his entourage.

"No?"

"No boy back home would even wanna come near me, they were all scared of my Momma," You softly giggled, remembering all the times your mother would practically bark at a boy that even looked in you direction. It had always been embarrassing and you were still terrified of crossing your mother.

"Wait, hang on a minute," A voice interrupted, you followed the sound and you were met with Sonny West, who was sitting on the couch opposite you, drinking whisky and smoking his cigar, listening in on the tales you were telling Elvis.

"So you've never...?" Sonny interrupted, taking a sip of his drink. You shook your head, sitting upright on the plush couch as Elvis walked over to the drinks table to pour himself and you a drink. "You're telling me, you've never even taken a mans fingers?" He said, clearly overstepping, but you were just a little confused.

You looked over to Elvis who was just watching the interaction play out, and gave you a reassuring nod. He knew that Sonny was prone to a drink or two and could get out of hand.

"Um... no, um, I don't think so." You said quietly.

"Fuck, tell me you've at least had your first kiss." Sonny said, cracking up at the idea of your lack of sexual history. You politely and sweetly stayed quiet, just shaking your head a little. Sonny's eyes widened when he realised you were being serious, laughing even more. When you looked over at Elvis, his eyes were dark and intense, trained just on you.

"Sonny." Elvis said sharply, but it went over Sonny's head. Elvis could see you were uncomfortable and he knew Sonny was being an ass.

"EP, c'mon!" Sonny said, before turning back to you. "You must be pretty glad you're in the Hollywood scene now then, eh kid? You'll get a guy and everything that comes with it with a bat of an eyelash." Sonny chuckled.

"M'not a prude, I just wanna save it all for when I'm married, I want it to be real special. My best friend, Patty, she's done it all and that's okay, I ain't gonna judge none," You insisted, you knew how liberal and carefree Hollywood was, you knew that you were surrounded by different lifestyles, you just didn't want anyone to think that you thought less of them for it, because you didn't. Sonny let out a booming laugh, causing everyone's heads to turn to him and your cheeks to flush, worried you'd said the wrong thing.

"Waiting until marriage? Honey, that's the most ridiculous thing I've heard in a long time, you're not eighty years old sweetheart." He patronised, chuckling to himself. You chewed on her lip a little, feeling a little stupid. "It's just what, um, m-my pastor says God wants." You said softly, crossing your arms to cover your chest a little, feeling insecure. You didn't really like all of the 'Mafia', you knew Jerry was nice and you could see why he was Elvis' favourite, but Sonny and Red weren't as friendly.

Sonny slapped his thigh as he burst into more laughter. "I thought this generation were supposed to be all loving, what happened huh? God?! It's like my mother's here." He chuckled. "Woah now, if Y/N wants to wait for marriage, she ain't gotta justify it to you Sonny. Really, it ain't got a goddamn thing to do with you does it, Son?" Elvis said, almost menacingly, to his friend. "Why don't you go find somebody else to berate rather than picking on the little girl huh? Goes for all of you, get outta here." Elvis said, nodding at the door before sending you a wink, making a smile creep onto your face before you felt your cheeks get hot. Sonny's cheeks also flushed, embarrassed at being scolded by the Boss, but none of the Mafia wasted any time in getting out of the dressing room, leaving you and Elvis alone. "Sorry about Sonny, he likes to think his goddamn opinion is more important than it actually is." Elvis said gently, sitting back down next to his sweet girl, who was still sitting firmly upright, not relaxed in the slightest. You looked up at Elvis with confusion on your face and a furrowed brow, which Elvis thought was the cutest thing he ever did see. "D'ya think I'm silly?" You asked softly, worrying that maybe your admission might make Elvis think differently about you.

"I think you'd be silly if you rushed yourself and made yourself unhappy." Elvis comforted, making your shoulders stop tensing. You shot him a quick nervous smile.

"Just want it t'feel right." You mumbled, picking at your fingers.

"I know, I won't let them upset you again little one." Elvis promised, pulling you onto his lap effortlessly to give you a cuddle, the type of cuddle you loved having with Elvis.

You felt so comforted and looked after by Elvis, he could be surrounded by anyone and yet he'd ask one of the Mafia to find you because that's who he wanted. You weren't sure yet as to why, but you never complained, you loved being in his company.

As your mind wandered, thinking about all the ways that Elvis made you feel good, your eyes widened with an idea.

"Elvis?" You asked as he hummed in response. "Would you give me my first kiss now?" You asked shyly, nerves flooding your little body as you peered up at him to gauge his reaction.

Elvis studied your face before shaking his head. "Baby, you're not ready, you know that, don't ya?" Elvis cooed.

"I just-"

"I know sweetheart. But you're not ready for all of that, you're just lettin' Sonny's words get to ya." Elvis assured softly.

"I know." You said, feeling a little embarrassed and defeated, even if you knew that Elvis was right, he always knew what was best for you, better than you did at this point.

Elvis watched you and all he wanted to do was kiss you, rip your babydoll dress off you and fuck you senseless. He'd imagined it more times than he'd like to admit and he couldn't wait for the day that he'd finally be kissing your soft skin all over. He knew that that day would come, but he knew it would only live up to his expectations if you were ready, and he knew you weren't.

"How's about I make you a deal then, baby?" Elvis suggested, gently tilting your chin up so that you would be looking at him. "How's about, when you're absolutely sure you're ready, you come find me, and I'll give ya a kiss?" Elvis proposed.

You giggled a little at the idea, but you liked it. You didn't feel pressured, only looked after.

"'Kay." You said gently, another giggle leaving your lips.

The pair of you smiled at each other, each letting out little laughs and enjoying each others company as Elvis decided to count the days until he got his kiss.

[mamaspresley]

trouble 2 | austin!elvis au

wc 4,783 tw smut, oral f receiving, elvis being a cheeky mf

part one here!

Your hand trembled over the page as you held the pencil firmly between your pointer finger and your thumb. You just couldn’t find the courage to sign the end of the letter, your lower lip between your teeth and your leg bouncing up and down below you as you sat at your desk, staring at the page filled top to bottom with your neat handwriting. 

That was one of the first things Elvis had brought up when the two of you managed to speak over the phone instead of writing to each other. “Your hand-writing is so neat, doll, mine’s gotta look like chicken scratch to ya. Can you even read it half the time?” he’d said, and you laughed before reassuring the boy that you could read his writing, even if it did take you a few minutes to decipher a couple of the words. The call lasted about five minutes before it got clicked off and you realized you had no money left to call him back. You cried that night, having used all your savings from working at the diner just down the street, a job you picked up for that specific reason — Elvis mentioned in one of his letters that the base he was on had a telephone, one that made transatlantic calls, and you worked day and night for three months straight to be able to afford just a few minutes of hearing his voice. And boy, was it worth it. You never got too sad when Elvis was away, never shed any tears over it up until that point. But hearing his voice, the familiar Southern drawl that you’d only been hearing over his records you played a million times a day — it was all real to you again, and it was like you’d been living in a fantasy the whole time. There he was, talking into your ear like he had been that night you sat on your porch. The way your heart raced when you heard the way his lips mumbled the word darling, as opposed to reading it on a piece of paper. You wished you got more than five minutes with him but unfortunately that wasn’t the case, and you just clutched onto the fact that these last two years would be over in just a few more months, and then he would be back home, and you would be in his arms. 

It was no question that Elvis was in love with you. You didn’t know it, but he talked about you nonstop to the boys in his division. When he’d first met you that night that he showed up to your house, it was all so surreal and you had brushed off the fact that he confessed his love for you. It didn’t seem serious, he had just met you for Christ’s sake and knew nothing about you besides your name — which, mind you, he had to dig up from someone else. You’d never even spoken to each other before that night, so the idea that he was in love with you was absurd. Of course, you wanted nothing more than to believe it, but the more you did, the less everyone had faith around you. You recounted the events of that night to Lucy and she was over the moon, but everyone else you told seemed to think you were exaggerating the details. Girls at school, your coworkers, even a few of your family members insisted that you were lying. The only people that truly, wholeheartedly believed that Elvis Presley was in love with you was Lucy and your mother, who’d read every letter he sent you as you showed her every other week with ecstasy written across your face. But the thing was that the longer time passed with him gone, the more you believed it yourself. Because the more you believed he was in love with you, the more you believed you were in love with him. 

You’d always loved Elvis Presley, ever since you heard his first song on the radio. But you loved him as the singer, not him as the person. Up until spending years writing to the boy, dreaming of him when you slept and fantasizing about him coming home. You thought of him when cleaning tables at your work, and sometimes you even found yourself planning out your next letter to him, excited to race home so you could get out your pen and paper. Elvis had signed every letter he wrote you with Love, your Elvis since the very first one. Yours were usually finished off with a talk to you soon or a miss you entirely. This one, the one you wrote as the last one he would be receiving before coming home, felt different. Nothing had changed, it was still the same old summary of your week, telling him how excited you were for March 2nd, the day he would be coming back. But this time, you couldn’t write the words see you soon. Your first thought was love.

Your pencil stood still in your hand as your eyes raked across the page. You read the hundred word letter over and over again, stalling as you tried to work up the courage to write the simple closing line before folding the note up for the envelope. It took you what felt like hours before you gave in and signed it, I can’t wait to see you… your Y/N and then setting the pencil down. You would send it in the morning on your way to work, completely unhappy with the closing statement but ultimately, you knew you weren’t gonna do anything about it. You wanted your first ‘I love you’ to be in person, to his face, where you could see his raw, honest reaction. Not over a letter, when he would read it two weeks from now and then you wouldn’t be able to read his for two weeks after that. 

So you would wait, until you could see him in person, and then you would tell him you loved him. You planned on doing it immediately, the moment you saw him, but when the day finally came, that wasn’t the case. 

“Y/N, honey, you have a visitor.” It was deja vu, almost, the way your mother poked her head into your room, much like she had done the night you met the boy. But you weren’t in for a surprise this time — you’d been counting down the hours for this moment. 

“He’s here!” You jumped up from your bed, and the speed at which you ran down the hallway was faster than any track star could have dreamed. You made it down the stairs in record time, and when your eyes landed on the boy standing in your foyer, talking with your father, dressed in his army green military suit, holding his cap to his chest respectfully, you lost your breath. 

“There she is,” your father said, and at his words, Elvis turned around to see you for himself. The smile that exploded onto his face was unlike any other, and the boy reached out as you jumped onto him. He lifted you into his arms, spinning you around as you grasped onto him for dear life. It felt better than you were expecting, hugging him, smelling his scent that hadn’t changed a bit since he was gone. 

What had changed, though, was his hair. It was short now, buzzed at the sides and not what you remembered at all. It made sense though, Elvis had mentioned in one of his letters that they had to shave his head when he joined the military. You hated the idea, one of the main focal points of Elvis Presley was his hair. But seeing him in the uniform, all dressed up, returning home from the war — he looked handsome, more beautiful than you could’ve dreamed of, so you didn’t mind the lack of hair. Actually, you quite enjoyed it. 

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much.” Elvis set you down, his arms still wrapped around you as he held you to his chest. You nuzzled into him, hugging him tightly as though he would leave you again should you let go. You heard his chest rumble with laughter as he placed a hand on the back of your head, seemingly talking to your father as he said, “Think she missed me, too?”

“Only a little,” the man responded, and you smiled into the jacket of Elvis’s uniform. It had taken a while for your father to warm up to the idea of you and Elvis Presley — ultimately, it took the proof of him not leaving you when he got shipped off. It was up until a year into you and the boy still talking that your father finally came to terms with your relationship. He’d told your mother that he was afraid Elvis would break his daughter’s heart, since, after all, he’s Elvis Presley. Your father chose to believe the media outlets over situations like these, so he’s never had a fond outlook on the boy, even before you began dating. And if he’s away in the military for two years, your father had said, nothing good would come from that. But, you proved him wrong, and here he was, almost as happy to see the boy as you were. Almost. 

“Come on! I-I wanna show you my dress!” you exclaimed after pulling away from the boy, and you looked to your parents for approval. They nodded, and as quick as you had come down, you were pulling Elvis upstairs to your room. While he was away, Elvis had missed your high school graduation, along with your senior prom. He wrote you saying how much he wished he could be there, and when you responded you’d even sent him a few photographs your mother had taken of you on that evening, a few solo but a couple with the boy who had taken you, as well. You were stuck with the privilege of going with a mister Tommy Baker, a boy you’d known since you were little as your mothers were best friends. Elvis didn’t like the idea of you going with another boy, but you reassured him that as a girl, you had to go with a boy. And if he wasn’t there to take you, Tommy was the next best thing. If you had gone to the senior prom by yourself, it would’ve been humiliating, and it would’ve been even worse had you gone with a friend like Lucy, which is what Elvis suggested when he wrote you back. He got over it quickly though when he saw you in your dress, and he asked if you would show him in person when he came home. Lucky for him, you remembered. 

It was also just an excuse to get him alone in your room. 

“The pictures don’t do it justice — look at how pretty this colour is.” You unzipped the bag that your pretty purple prom dress resided in, and Elvis hummed in approval. “I would show you what it looks like on, but it takes ages to get into and then tie up.”

“That’s alright, baby. Another time.” You felt his arms wrap around your waist as you zipped the bag back up, and you blushed when he rested his chin on your shoulder. “For now, I wanna kiss you.” Elvis pressed his lips to your cheek, and then your jaw, and you giggled as you pushed him away. 

“Let me hang this back up first. And Mama’ll kill me if she sees us kissin’ in my room.”

“That’s why we keep the door closed,” Elvis said slyly, moving across the room to grab the handle on your bedroom door, slowly and carefully closing it. You scolded him in a whisperful way as he twisted the handle, shutting it without a sound despite your protests. 

“Are you crazy? Daddy’s gonna kill you! An’ then he’ll kill me!”

“That’s why we lock it, too.” He clicked it shut and you smacked the boy on the arm. Chuckling, Elvis grabbed your wrist in the process, pulling you over to him expertly as his free hand snuck its way to your lower back, and he dipped you down while he connected your lips. 

The feeling of the kiss was too good for you to worry about the door much longer, and finally you allowed yourself to melt into him. His hand moved to cup your face, fingers twisting into your hair on the back of your head while he held you dangerously close. You felt his tongue slide past your lips and nearly gasped as it met yours, such a vile action that had your stomach dropping in the best way possible. 

“Two years was much too long,” he said when you pulled away to catch your breath, and his words couldn’t help but cause a smile on your lips. His hand tightened its hold on your cheek, thumb brushing over the soft skin as he gazed down at you. His blue eyes were even more beautiful than you remembered, and you fought the urge to lean up and kiss him again. 

“You’re tellin’ me,” you responded, and Elvis smiled small before he read your mind and bent down to connect your lips once more. As you kissed, all you could think about were those three words you’d been denying to write to him. I love you. It was such a simple saying, but for some reason thinking about saying it out loud had you more nervous than you were when you had to slow dance with Tommy Baker at prom. You loved Elvis so goddamn much it made your toes curl and your heart speed up so fast you were certain you’d go into cardiac arrest. And if you didn’t tell him soon, you were beginning to think that might not be an exaggeration. 

“Elvis,” you said, placing a hand on the boy’s chest to signal you wanted to stop. Immediately, he pulled away, blue eyes gazing down at you concerningly, his lips swollen from the prior activity and his chest rising and falling with deep breaths under your hand. You stared up at him, heart pounding and mouth growing dry, despite the sloppy kissing you’d just endured with the boy towering above you. His eyes were sparkling and his lips were so pink and full and he just looked so beautiful— “Kiss me again.”

So he did, and you wanted to curse yourself for chickening out but his lips were too entrancing. Elvis began leading you backwards, his hands sure to keep you steady when your knees hit the edge of your bed and you collapsed onto the mattress, his body falling over you gracefully. Elvis flipped you over, your legs moving to straddle him as he pulled you on top, and it was then that you pulled away, tucking your hair behind your ears as you repositioned yourself awkwardly. Elvis sat up on his elbows, staring at you. “You okay, lil darlin’?”

“Mhm.” You sat back, dropping your hands into your lap before realizing that was his crotch, and then lifting them as quick as you realized. The boy chuckled, smirking up at your flustered expression. “Oh!— Sorry.”

“You’re all good, mama.” 

The nicknames he gave you never failed to erupt a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, on top of the nerves you felt just thinking about what you needed to say to him. It was now or never, you thought, staring back at the boy who lay under you, watching you with a look of love and adoration in his eyes entirely, a lazy smile on his lips and dark hair styled to perfection atop his head. The sight alone was enough to have you blushing. “Elvis, I…”

You couldn’t get the words out before a shout came to cut you off, and suddenly the nerves in your belly weren’t caused by the preparation of admittance. “Y/N Y/L/N! What did I say about boys in your room with the door closed!”

“Sorry, Momma!” you called back, smacking Elvis on the arm as he chuckled lightly. You climbed off him, rushing to open the door before stepping out into the hallway to apologize face to face. When you went back inside, Elvis was sitting upright on your bed, a picture frame in his hands before he glanced up at you. “See, I told you you’d get me in trouble!”

“Hardly,” he said, setting the picture frame back down on your nightstand. Elvis reached out for you, tugging at your skirt to pull you closer to him. You stood between his legs, peering down at him as your hands came to rest on his shoulders. He smirked up at you, resting his hands on your hips while he looked on at you devilishly. “I like it when you’re bad ‘cus o’ me.”

Your mind went fuzzy, stomach dropping at his raspy tone, his words dangerous. 

“Makes you even sexier.”

Your head turned to see if your mother was still out in the hallway, and Elvis’s hands on the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer, had you turning back to him. “Eyes on me, baby.” He brought his hand to your chin, tilting your head down with his fingers. “Could be more fun this way.” He was gesturing to the lack of privacy, with the open door, and how suspenseful it would be, but you couldn’t ignore what would happen if your mother — or worse, your father — walked in at the wrong time. Elvis, on the other hand, couldn’t care less, as he was pulling you back in for another kiss.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered against his lips, and you felt they turn into a smirk as he whispered back, “I know,” before crashing his lips down onto yours for the third time that day. 

You had your hands on his shoulders to keep you steady, but no amount of stability could keep your knees from weakening when you felt his hands slip under your blouse, making contact with the foreign skin as he held you at your sides. He flipped you over then, laying you down on your bed as he knelt over you slightly, keeping watch of the door. His hands were still under your shirt, sneaking their way down, and it was a dangerous touch but the way he was so delicate, fingers whispering across your skin as they slid into the waistband of your skirt, plucking at the fabric of your panties — you were more than certain it was the right thing to do. Everything he did, he did with such certainty that you couldn't help but agree with him. He was ethereal, and you were sure you wouldn’t have let any other man touch you the way he was doing now. Not until marriage, at least. 

But yet, this boy had you under him, no ring on your finger, begging for his touch as his fingers slipped under your panties. 

“Elvis,” you whimpered, and the boy shushed you as he ran a finger up your folds. 

“Gonna have to be quiet for me, darlin’. Ain’t nobody gonna hear a sound, alright?” He began working two fingers over you, a feeling so foreign to you you couldn’t help but shiver, and the way you leaned your head back, teeth biting down on your lip, had Elvis struggling to contain himself, too. “So wet for me, sweetheart. You been waitin’ so long for me to come home to ya, haven’t ya?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, thighs clenching together as he had his hand buried deep between them. He finally entered a finger in you, your jaw falling open at the foreign feeling of penetration inside of you. 

“That feel good, baby?” The suspense of being caught felt almost as good as the quiet, raspiness of his voice caused, and you couldn’t decide if those two things trumped the feeling of his fingers working you over. Every sense of yours was heightened and you could’ve sworn this was what cloud nine felt like. 

He entered a second finger, pumping the two of them in and out before adding his thumb into the mix, rubbing your clit lightly to create a nice, steady pace for you. Your back arched off the bed at the feeling, a few whines escaping your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, and Elvis shushed you before placing a hand over your mouth when he increased the speed of his fingers. 

They were thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace, curling inside of you to hit your g-spot while his thumb pressed circles into your clit as well. You were wiggling underneath him much more than you were minutes before, telling him that you were close to release, and Elvis pulled away with no warning, making you whine in distress. Was he just gonna leave you here like this?

He crossed your room to shut the door halfway, leaving it open just a few inches so that at least the bed wasn’t visible to anyone passing through the hallway. Elvis made his way back to the bed, where you sat on the edge with a pout on your lips. He chuckled, moving to stand in front of you as he grabbed your chin, tilting your head back so you looked up at him. 

“You liked that?”

You nodded submissively, your pupils shot and eyelids weary from the bliss you didn’t think was possible from the vulgar act you’d just taken part in. Elvis clenched his jaw as he moved to kneel between your legs, his arms wrapping around your calves to pull you forward. At the sudden movement you squealed, falling back onto the bed, feeling him place his hands on your thighs underneath your skirt. He slid your panties off smoothly, discarding them somewhere unknown, before pushing your skirt higher up your stomach. 

“This alright, darlin’?” he asked, and the weak attempt at a hum of approval was enough for him. You felt his lips meet the skin of your inner thighs, dangerously close to where his fingers had just been minutes before, and your breath hitched.

“O… Oh,” you moaned, leaning up some to cast a quick glance down at the boy below you. His fingers gripped into your thighs, lips moving across your skin hastily, and it was when you felt his tongue like a stripe up your core that you fell back onto your back, a loud moan escaping past your lips. 

Elvis pulled away as quick as he could, smacking you on the thigh lightly as he shushed you. “Don’t want us to get caught now, do ya?” he asked, and you shook your head apologetically. He got to his feet, leaning over you as his hand gripped your face much like how he had done at the concert, your first interaction with the boy. Now, two years later, he had you in the same position, still writhing underneath his touch. “Gonna have to contain yourself, baby. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes,” you nodded, and Elvis hummed, half satisfied with your answer, before he kneeled back down between your thighs and went to work. If you thought that first bit felt good, you were in for a treat. Elvis had your heart in your throat, your back arched off the bed with your fingers digging into the bed sheets while his tongue worked you over. 

It was taking all of you not to scream out his name, your moans dying off your tongue before you could project them out. All you wanted to do was lean your head back and cry out in pleasure, his lips sucking at your core like his life depended on it. You’d never experienced a feeling like this, and it had you spiralling. You weren’t sure if you wanted to chase your release or just stay in this moment forever. 

“Fuck,” you heard Elvis mutter as he adjusted, pulling your thighs closer with his fingers pressed into your skin, lips brushing over your heat again. He kissed the delicate area before standing up, placing a hand next to your head as he leaned into your neck and whispered, “You got no clue what you do to me, baby girl.” It was then that he lowered his hips, rolling them onto yours, and you felt a bulge pressing against the fabric of his pants, now pushing against you. It was big, and you couldn’t deny that his size was doing anything but turning you away from the idea of him burying himself inside you. 

“Please,” you whispered, head rolling back as you felt him thrust against you, fully clothed. Your hand gripped his bicep, your other hand coming to push his button up further up on his stomach, fingers making contact with his warm skin. 

“You want this, baby?” Elvis was imitating the acts of intercourse now, his hips moving with yours while you wrapped your legs loosely around his torso. His hand strayed down to your heat, finding your wet core as he began rubbing your clit while he continued his previous actions. “You like it when I touch you?”

“Mhm,” you whined, digging your nails into his arm that held himself above you. 

“How much?”

“A-A lot,” you mumbled, trying to keep quiet as you bucked your hips against his hand, searching for friction and that feeling that you had no clue about, but you knew it was something extraordinary. “Go-Go back.”

“Back where, baby?”

“Down. I—” Before you could finish, Elvis was sinking back down to his knees, pulling you close and burying himself between your thighs again. You were whimpering, sitting up slightly at the shock of his tongue against you. Your fingers were digging deep into the jungle of his hair, teeth clenching down on your lip to stop you from screaming out. 

His tongue licked at you, the speed ferocious as he focused on your bundle of nerves above everything else. He knew exactly where to pleasure you, exactly what felt the best, and Lord were you grateful for it. Within seconds, you had your stomach clenching, your head thrown back and your legs shaking. A feeling of euphoria washed over you as Elvis worked his magic between your trembling thighs, and once you fell back, releasing your hand from his hair, Elvis knew his work was done. He climbed back over you, grinning from ear to ear as he placed a kiss to your cheek. 

“How you doin’, baby?”

“Fantastic,” you breathed, opening your eyes, and the boy chuckled before you pulled him in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on him, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t get enough of him. 

“Woah, slow your roll there, mama. Not much else to do ’cept put a baby in ya.”

“At this point I ain’t even care.”

“Now who’s the crazy one?” he teased, and you smiled up at him as he sat beside you, your head coming to rest in his lap. Elvis reached down to fix your skirt and your blouse, his hand taking home on your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek while he looked down at you.

“Elvis?” you said, staring into his eyes. Now or never, Y/N.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

You gulped. “I love you.” 

The look on his face didn’t change too much for a while, which had you nervous. It wasn’t until you saw a smile peek at the corner of his lips that you let out a breath of relief. “You love me?” he asked, and you nodded, letting out a smile of your own. “Well that’s good, baby. ’Cause I’m crazy about you.”

You blushed, grinning wildly now, unable to contain it from spreading across your face like a wildfire. “You are?”

“I been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you, baby. You won’t even believe.”

The grin on your lips turned into a mischievous one, and you knew you had Elvis to blame for that. He wasn’t the greatest influence, but you loved it. “Well if I won’t believe, why don’t you make me?”

The look cast across Elvis’s face was more shock than anything, but it quickly transformed into a daunting expression, eyes excited and the smirk on his lips wicked. “You sure are trouble, ain’t you, little one?”

“You’re to blame for that.”

“Oh, am I?” He was sliding off the bed, fingers caressing down the tops of your thighs with him. “I don’t think that’s such a bad thing.”

“You know what?” you said, watching as he sank to his knees again, large hands moving to wrap around the backs of your knees. “Me neither.”

➳ @strwbryangel @satninbeaulieu @suspiciousbutler @sagesolsticewrites @shimmeringlights44 @butlersbitxh @floralcyanide @sassy-ahsoka-tano @austin-butlers-gf @butlersbabe @dontbesussis @x-earthangel @anangelwhodidntfall @she-is-juniper @butler-on-beale-street @iloveaustinbutler @http-sponge @theliterarybeldam @melodydior @dances-and-dolly-dresses @mommy-maia @alligator-person @elvisabutler @scarlet-knight @austiebutbut @80s-outsiders @a-bolanos @sweetheartlizzie07 @ghxst-heart @matchaluvr123 @emilykolchivans @yayarry

[stephstars08]

This is just my opinion but… I feel like no one is going to be able to play Elvis better than Austin! Austin did such an amazing job and I don’t think anyone will ever top his performance as the king!

Again this is just my opinion!!😊😊😊😊

[butler-on-beale-street]

Unforgettable | E!Austin Butler X Plus! Reader | Part 1

Warnings: some vague descriptions of plus sized body. Aside from that, just the beginnings of a wonderful story.

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: I have enjoyed writing this so much--it's probably been my favorite fic I've written so far. This fic is not exclusive to only plus readers, however it was intended for that audience in mind. I received several fic requests for a plus! reader, but this story is specifically based on a request from @im-just-star-dust. You may interpret this fic as Elvis himself or as Austin's version. This fic will end up being several parts. I have written nearly 10K words already and it's just the beginning. Dig your claws in and stay awhile.

Where’s the manual for what to do when the most famous and most beautiful man in America walks into your bookstore like a neighborhood regular? 

“Evelyn!” you shouted across the storefront, buried in stacks of new books that had just arrived off of the truck. At this pace, you would be in the position for several hours. So, considering how dead the book shop was, you decided to slip off your mary janes and walk around in your socks. “Evey! Gimme some help, will ya?” Loading several boxes on a single dolly, you decided to do the work yourself without her, sticking your tongue out of your mouth to concentrate. You wheeled the rickety dolly to the book stacks, heaving a sigh before getting down on your knees to place the books on the shelves. 

“Stupid girl,” you sputtered to yourself. Too busy writing love letters to her darling, that’s what. Wish that was me. As you knelt, you kept pulling on your hose and stockings, just to make sure you were covering yourself modestly. You wanted to be like every other small, dainty girl who wore pretty little outfits and got away with showing a tad too much skin. You wore a sky blue cotton blouse with a peter pan collar. Delicate embroidered cherries adorned the fabric. It was one of your favorites, so you wore it often. You wore the top tucked into a navy blue wool skirt that just barely grazed your knee. It was a cute outfit, but the skirt fit you tighter than it should and your knee high socks kept rolling down your legs, reminding you that you were just a bit too large to fit the style of the time. You sighed and sat on the floor with your legs crossed, reaching for the boxes of books. You pulled each title up to the shelves one by one, meticulously organizing them label by label, author by author. You had left a small notebook tucked in one of the boxes so that you could keep track of inventory, writing down the serial number of each copy before putting it on the shelf. Only, when you checked, it wasn’t there. You looked into the boxes several times, hoping that it would appear upon second check, but you had no such luck. Looking up at the stacks, you saw that edge of the notebook hanging over the edge of a higher shelf. You reached a hand up to one of the shelves to pull yourself up from the floor, but it was a bad mistake. The entire shelf tilted precariously, falling with you. “Oh no!” you yelped, reaching for the gigantic shelf in a feeble attempt to right it. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” a voice boomed, from the other side of the shelf, pulling it away from you so that it wouldn’t topple completely. To your dismay, all of the books on the shelves tumbled to the floor in mess. 

“Mercy!” You spat, pulling your hands up to your face in frustration. “Ugh.” You bent to pick up the books and start again, loading them each back on the shelf. As you bent again, a hand reached down to the mess, picking up a pile of books. “Nancy Drew. Hmph,” You heard as you pulled more books into your arms. “How long you think they’ll keep writing these?” 

“As long as they’ll fly off the shelves I reckon-” you responded before being choked to silence when you stood up straight to see who stood in front of you. “Elvis Presley.” You said, plainly, as if he were the embodiment of the Lord Messiah in front of you. You were shocked into speechlessness. If you hadn’t caught yourself, your internal dialogue would have slipped out of your mouth right there in front of him.

“Yes, Ma’am. How’d you know my name?” He said with a sly wink, bending down to pick up more of the books that had fallen. “I’m just kiddin,’ doll. What’s your name?” He gave you a kind smile as he placed the books on an empty shelf. 

“I- I’m Y/n.” You said, still reeling at the fact that the most famous man in America and maybe even the world was standing directly in front of you. 

“Hmm.” He said, biting his bottom lip, pondering over a thought. “Can I call you Cheeks? You’ve got big ole cheeks just like me. Real pretty.” Embarrassment raked through your body. It felt sinful to finally have a man comment on your appearance, let alone Elvis Presley. You nodded shyly, avoiding eye contact. 

“Colonel don’t let me out often,” he said in an almost whisper. You watched as he poked his head around the end of the stacks, eyeing the entrance of the bookstore. “I came in when you had no customers.” You furrowed your eyebrows, still confused as to why this man was in the middle of a Memphis mom-and-pop bookstore. “Tired of hiding from everybody, you know?” He asked the question as if to get words of agreement, but in reality, you really didn’t know what it was like. You still nodded. 

“Are you looking for something in particular, Mr. Presley?” You asked the question, finally finding enough courage to speak. He almost recoiled when you called him by his last name. 

“Please! Just Elvis. I don’t even let my lawyers call me by my full name. And surely a pretty girl like you. You can call me Elvis.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stick of gum, inserting it into his mouth. “Want a piece? It’s clove flavored. My favorite.” He stuck out the candy to you and you took it, thanking him. “So what do you say I help you pick up these books and get this all back in working order?” He said, smacking audibly on his gum. 

“Oh, no. No, don’t worry about it. I can clean it up–”

Elvis reached out his hand and took your forearm in reassurance. “I want to. I’d like to feel useful. Something outside of the newspapers and radio.” He bent and picked up more books and you let him. 

“It’s about to be lunch hour. It’s going to pick up.” You warned him in a soft tone.

“What if I asked you to close for the day? Maybe I could help out a bit, clean the place up? Dust off some shelves. Idk…look pretty?” You paused at the proposition. 

“Uh, it’s not my place. This is my uncle Harold’s store.” You answered. 

“Is he here, maybe in the back? I’ll be happy to speak with him.” You observed him, how his eyes lit up at the idea of working the most boring job known to man. 

“No, he’s home for the day. Me and my little cousin are working today.”

“He got a telephone? I’d be happy to pay for a full day’s loss–even more.” He practically jumped out of his sports coat. 

“There’s a phone in the back office,” You said, stepping out of the way of the books and onto the sales floor, letting him follow you from behind. “Are you sure you want to help out? I just sell books.” 

“Well, Cheeks,” He said, trying out the nickname. “I love books. I don’t look the type, but like reading all kinds of books. And I need a break from the world. From the noise.”

Uncle Harold didn’t believe him at first, even when Elvis took the phone from you. “Hiya, sir. This is Elvis Presley…yes sir. Yes. Yes sir. Yes, that’s me. I got my social security card on me if you’d like to see it,” He chuckled, causing your insides to stir. You struggled to look at him. How in the hell was he more gorgeous in real life than on television or in the pictures? You cleared your throat as if he could hear suspect thoughts swimming in your head. “Yes, I’ll cover today two times over. Your niece,” he paused, forgetting your name, putting his hand over the phone. 

“Y/n,” you reminded him with a smile. 

“Y/n! She is lovely, sir. Seems like the type to put me to work.” He winked at you before focusing back on the call. “Come over for dinner?” You heard him say the words, and you immediately felt like you were going to vomit. “Well, I’d love to.” You leaned against your uncle’s desk as they continued to chatter on the phone. “Mississippi pot roast?” He said, raking his hands through his sleek pompadour, messing it with the tips of his fingers. “I’m a Mississippi Man myself. Mm–Yes sir. Yes sir. Six o’clock?” He looked at you while he spoke. “I’ll be there. Mmmhmm. Yes sir. See you then.” He hung the phone up on the wall. 

“Looks like I’m having dinner at your place tonight,” he said, chewing on his gum, looking proud of himself. 

“Looks like you are,” you said wide eyed, bewildered at what just happened. 

“You said that your cousin works with you? Is she a ghost?” Elvis said, stepping out of the office, his hands tucked in his pockets. “No, she’s probably smoking by the back door.” You stepped out of the office and turned a sharp corner into a dark, wood paneled hallway that led to the back staff entrance of the bookstore. The back door, just as you suspected, was pulled ajar and you could see a ray of sunlight beaming through onto the linoleum floor. “Evelyn.” You said out loud. “Evelyn,” you said louder, jutting open the door. 

“What on earth do you want?” She asked, turning and grabbing the door, swinging it open. She blew a puff of smoke in your face as she held a lit cigarette between two fingers. You fanned it away. “It’s not like we were busy.” In her other hand, she held the most recent volume of Confidential magazine with Elvis on the cover. You looked down at it, amused at the surreality of the moment. “He is so dreamy,” she said, taking another puff of her cigarette. “Not afraid to shake things up a bit. Little bit of a bad boy. Wonder how many woman he has to tear off of him on a daily basis.” 

“Quite a lot, miss. But today, I’ve gotten a bit of a break.” Elvis finally spoke, stepping into the light. 

You watched with a raised eyebrow as Evelyn dropped the magazine to the ground along with her cigarette. Her jaw went slack as the man from the cover materialized before her. “No. Way.” She said, splitting both words with a pause in the middle. “Elvis goddamn Presley,” she blurted, the obscenity carelessly falling from her mouth. 

“Evey!” You scolded her. 

“Okay, so uh. When were you going to tell me that you were hiding him?” She said, stomping out her cigarette and closing the heavy door, leaving the magazine forgotten on the concrete. 

“I just walked in with my own free will if you’d imagine it,” Elvis said with a smirk. “Business wasn’t exactly boomin,’ anyhow.” 

“Hold on a second, let me get this right,” Evelyn said, walking beside the two of you as you walked back into the store front. “You’re literally the most famous man on Earth right now and you choose this hell hole?” 

“Evelyn, watch your mouth.” you warned, glaring at her. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just shocked.” She said, throwing her hands up in front of her. “How am I supposed to react?” 

“Well, Little miss Y/n took it pretty well, I think,” Elvis said, looking down at you with a grin. You didn’t usually like men to look at you. You knew what they were thinking most of the time. You were too chubby. Your curvaceous figure wasn’t attractive, and even when someone would show interest, they were never convicted enough to go steady with you. You liked the way Elvis looked at you, though. His demeanor was relaxed and charming, and he made an effort to look you directly in the eye when he spoke. 

“I knocked over an entire bookshelf trying to get up from the floor. Elvis saved me from becoming a pancake,” You said, his name feeling slippery and insecure on your tongue. You felt his arm swing around your back, taking you by the shoulder and pulling you in. “Glad I could swoop in and save the day. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to Captain Marvel Junior.”

“Who?” Evelyn said, her face scrunched in confusion. 

“You don’t know who he is?” You and Elvis both said in Tandem, looking back at one another before looking back at her. 

“He’s my favorite superhero. Loved him growing up back in Tupelo.” Evelyn eyed Elvis with half suspicion and half admiration, unsure of what to say next. “Say, uh,” Elvis began, leaning against the nearest wall with his pointer finger resting under his nose in thought. “You girls know where I could get something to drink in here?” Two minutes later, you were back in the tiny back room behind uncle Harold’s office drinking cold bottles of Coca-cola. 

“There ain’t much better than a fresh coke, I’ll tell you that,” Elvis said, tossing back the bottle for a large swig. He leaned against a tall filing cabinet. 

You sat on the corner of the kitchenette counter, slightly more aware of your body now that there wasn’t much left in terms of introduction between Elvis and yourself.. You tugged at the hem of your skirt and tried your best to be subtle with your attempt to pull up the knee-highs that were constantly rolling down your calves. “I know where there’s something a bit more…interesting.” You offered with a flirtatious wink. 

“Oh yeah?” Elvis responded with a wide smirk, his eyebrows raised with mischief. “And just what are you up to, Cheeks?” 

“Cheeks?” Evelyn asked, her eyebrows knit together with confusion–or jealousy. She looked at you, her eyes wide with disbelief before looking back at Elvis. 

“I know where uncle Harold keeps his booze,” You said with a wicked smirk.

“Are you old enough to be drinkin’?” Elvis asked, stepping forward off of the cabinet. “You’re just a pretty little thing.” You were 19, but appeared younger than you actually were.

“You gonna tell?” You fired back, challenging him. You were always a wallflower, but something about the man standing in front of you made you feel like you needed to prove that you deserved to be speaking to him. You wanted him to find you attractive and cool. 

“You are a wild one, aren’t you? Maybe I should call you my little wild cherry,” he said, stepping towards you, pinching the fabric of your shirt, referring to the embroidered fruit. He stole the air from your lungs as he stepped close to you. Though you stood calmly, it took a moment for your brain to stop its internal panic. He let out a belly laugh. “Oh you’re so cute. Not used to the flattery, are you, Cheeks?” You averted eye contact with him, offering a modest smile. “Go fetch the stash for us!”

You walked out of the kitchenette, letting your body finally sag in a massive release of breath. What the hell is Elvis Presley doing in my bookstore? Chatting it up with me–flirting with me? You couldn’t help but argue with your internal dialogue as you fished through your uncle’s office drawers, finally finding a bottle of whiskey tucked behind a stack of undesirable bank statements. You pulled the bottle out and swished its contents back and forth, walking the bottle back into the kitchen. “Not much left,” you said, holding it out in front of you.

“That’s alright,” Elvis said, gesturing for you to hand it over. “I’ll buy him another.” He turned around and peered at the acrylic overhead cupboards. “You got any glasses?” He asked, opening up the doors to the cabinets, peering into them. 

“Coffee cups,” Evelyn said with a shrug. Elvis looked back to her over his shoulder. “Well, it ain't the Taj Mahal, but it’ll do.” He pulled down three mismatched coffee cups, blowing puffs of air into each one, clearing out any settled dust. “Don’t tell your daddies I let you drink on the job.” 

“I smoke. I drink. I’m one step away from a reprobate,” Evelyn said, grabbing a coffee cup, waiting for Elvis to pour her her share of liquor. 

“Meanwhile your little cousin here,” He eyed you as he poured. “She’s an angel.”

“She’s two years older,” Evelyn corrected him, taking her cup to her mouth and taking a swig. You watched as her eyes twitched as the bitter-sweet alcohol went down.

“Are we gonna get any work done?” You asked, a bit uncomfortable with the conversation. 

“Oh, work. That’s right,” Elvis said, handing you a coffee cup before tipping his back to his lips, looking at you from over the rim. You took a swig of the whiskey, trying your best to not make a face. 

***

“Damn,” you said with your hands on your hips as you looked down at the mess of books still strewn out on the floor. Evelyn let out a big sigh. 

“I’m not cleaning that up. Not even with Elvis Presley in the building.” She winked at Elvis, biting her lip. 

“Go off and write totals in the ledger, then. It’s fine. I made the mess anyway.” You crouched to begin picking up the rest of the books from the floor, noticing that Elvis was still standing there. “Oh, you can go hang with Evey, I got it.” He watched you for a moment before crouching down with you. “Ah, but you know.” He said slowly, considering his next words. “I kinda like this mysterious girl. I wanted to learn a bit about her. Can’t really do that when I’m crunching numbers with her cousin, can I?” 

You looked at him for an extended moment before clearing your throat and describing the organizational system. “Nancy Drew. Goes above the label “Na.” We’ve got nine copies in stock right now.” You handed Elvis the stack of books for him to order on the shelf. “Make sure the copies equal what’s on this,” You said, holding up the notebook from earlier. 

“Yes, ma’am. Put me to work,” He responded. 

You spent several minutes organizing the shelf back to its previous condition-perhaps even more tidy than before. You found out quickly that he knew how to make you genuinely laugh. It was a rarity that you found hilarity in your daily banter with others. Elvis, however, was extremely charismatic and authentic. 

“Looks pretty damn good if you ask me,” He said, clapping his hands together, signaling work well done. You nodded your head. 

“Tell me, Elvis. Need a job?” You asked with a wide grin, that only seemed to grow bigger when he threw his head back in a throaty wallop of a laugh. 

“I’m destitute, Miss. Please, oh please hire me.” He said, throwing his hands up in a beggar’s fist.

You rolled your eyes playfully before checking off the inventory list in your notebook. “So uh, what do you say we close up shop.” Elvis said softly. 

“Elvis, It’s only been like half an hour.” You replied, raising your eyebrows.

“And? What if I said I wanted to take you girls out on a joy ride. Maybe buy you a little thing or two. On me, of course.”

“I really shouldn’t. We told Uncle Harold that we’d still be worki-” Elvis brough his pointer finger to your lips. 

“Shh.” You did as he asked. “You’re with Elvis Presley. It may be big headed of me, Cheeks. But I like you. And I don’t wanna waste the day twiddling thumbs in here, even if I was originally trying to get away from fans.”

“So you want to run from them with us?” You asked him, crossing your arms across your chest. “Mm, might be fun to have two pretty girls like yourselves around my arms while we walk downtown.” The thought of being paraded around town with fans flocking around you made you absolutely queasy. 

“Oh, I- I don’t know,” you hesitated. 

“Oh come on, Y/n. He took your hand, sending bolts of electricity through your consciousness. “Take a chance. For me.” He willed you to look up at him, his cerulean eyes flooding your mind body and soul, daring you to say no to the man in front of you. 

“Okay.” You decided.

“Okay?” He repeated, his eyes lighting up immediately.

You nodded with a smile. “Yes.” 

“Ha!” He patted you enthusiastically on the back. “I knew it. There’s a spark inside of you, Y/n. I can hear it buzzin.’” He shook his finger in the air, emulating electricity. “We just gotta get it out of you.” 

End of Part 1.

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[ranaissingle]

Ok, so this my first time requesting. But, in honor of Elvis’s Birthday could you write something where Elvis and reader spend a day together and just do fun stuff (like go to club handy) for his birthday. Just fluff pls.❤️❤️❤️thanks!

King For A Day

Masterlist

Pairings: Elvis x Reader and/or Austin!Elvis x reader Word Count: 769 Warnings: so much fluff it makes you wanna cry A/N: Thank you for the request Anon! Sorry, it's a bit late I was editing the other stories I had planned so I just got to this one today. I hope you enjoy it! (Also, Austin is lookin' hella fine at the golden globes. Just wanted to make sure the girlies were aware.)

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──

You had been awake for the last hour and a half trying to get Elvis' birthday breakfast ready. He usually slept in so that allowed you a couple more hours to bang around in the kitchen while he rested soundly.

You had prepared quite the assortment of bacon, sausages, pancakes, cut fruits, cheeses, and of course his toast with peanut butter and bananas; although you hoped he would eat all of the other things you had prepared.

Just as you finished setting up the table and cleaning the last of the dishes unbeknownst to you, Elvis had already woken up and had been standing by the steps watching you.

You had music playing softly from the record player and you hummed along while you washed the dishes. The sight alone was enough of a birthday present for him, never mind all of the festivities you had planned for him that day. Elvis grew tired of just watching you so he crept up behind you and slipped his hands around your waist. Although the touch startled you initially, you could recognize his large warm hands anywhere.

"Good morning honey. Did you sleep well?" You leaned back into his chest as you spoke putting your full weight against him.

"I'm doin' good baby. This is a wonderful sight to wake up to." He tightened his arms around you and leaned his head into your neck. He was still sleepy and his mannerisms were so endearing to you. You rest your hand over his palm as you speak, "I made some breakfast! Do you want to eat before the gang gets here, or do you want to wait?"

Elvis liked being around other people but right now he just wanted to be able to spend a slow and lazy morning with you.

"I'll eat before they get here I want ya all to maself." He puffed a breath into your neck when he finished and your answering giggle made him tighten his arms around you.

" I think I'll wait to see 'em until we get to Club Handy I want as much time alone wit ya as possible." Although his words sounded like they meant something else you knew they meant he wanted cuddles and kisses from you.

You kissed his cheek "Of course, honey, come on the food getting cold." You threaded his fingers through yours and led him to the table where you sat down next to each with hands still intertwined.

You fed him pancakes with 'Happy Birthday!' written in chocolate chips while he spooned cut strawberries and apples into your mouth. You kept your head leaned against his neck and sang his praises; telling him how much you loved him, how lucky you were to have him, and how handsome he was. He ate it all up and gave you grateful kisses and hugs in between each declaration.

You both cleaned up the kitchen before making your way upstairs to your bedroom where you proceeded to lay in each others arms until well into the afternoon.

Elvis' arms were wrapped around your waist and his head tucked into your collarbone. He let his hands rub circles into your side while you raked your fingers through his silky locks and kissed his forehead.

Eventually, when the clock struck 8, you both needed to get up and start getting ready to go to Club Handy for his actual birthday celebration. You both had matching outfits picked out. He was in a dark brown suit with no shirt under and you donned a brown dress accessorized with jewelry he had gotten you.

He kissed you as you applied your makeup and you did the same to him while he buttoned his suit jacket. The drive there was uneventful save for the fact that he had his hands intertwined with yours at any given time. He rubbed your knuckles and pressed his fingers into your palm.

You both stepped out of the car outside the back entrance to the club and made your way in.

The whole night was spent with drinks passed around, rambunctious laughter echoing off the walls then mingling with the sounds of the jazz playing in the background, and Elvis' arms wrapped securely around you. He brought you everywhere with him. Whether he was talking to friends or just standing alone. You always occupied the space directly in front of him and his arms never left you.

You were both content with that; and although you sang him happy birthday the softest, he heard you louder than everybody else. He felt so powerful at that moment. He felt like he had been crowned king for a day.

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆─

Done! I was listening to the Actors Round Table video with Austin while writing this and can someone explain to me how tf his voice is so attractive. Seeing all these hot people everywhere just reminds me how painfully single I am. 😭

[pinkcaddyconfessions]

Anything for You, Darlin'

- - -

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader (can be Austin!Elvis if you prefer)

Word Count: 651 words

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of child birth, Language (let me know if I miss anything)

- - -

Chapter 4

December 24, 1967

Back in your private suite, you finally rested while Elvis held baby Mallory. It was safe to say he was wrapped around her pretty little finger just like he was with you.

“Hey little darlin’ god you look your mama’s twin,” Elvis said to her softly, “you know princess, no one is ever gonna hurt in this world I promise you that. You and your mama are my girls and I’m gonna do everything I can to protect you two.”

Elvis looked over at you fast asleep in bed and then back at her. In his mind, you and Mallory were both sent from heaven and her birth date confirmed it for him. Christmas Eve. The most wonderful time of the year just got a little more wonderful.

It was around 4AM when you were awaken by Mallory’s crying. Elvis handed her over you and you fed her for the very first time. You were already a pro at everything involving baby Mallory. After you fed and burped her, you couldn’t help but to tear up when you looked into her little baby blue eyes

“Elvis, I just wanna say thank you”

“(Y/N) why are you thanking me. I need to thank you. For giving birth to our daughter. For never giving up on me. For loving me.”

And he was right. You never gave up on him; the proof of that was in your arms fast asleep. Elvis kissed her little head and then kissed you. In that moment you knew that you had made the all the right choices in your life to lead you to hear.

With Elvis. With Mallory.

Of course, Elvis called Vernon first to tell him the news of Mallory’s birth. Then Jerry, Red & Sonny West, the rest of the Memphis Mafia and eventually the Colonel. You were still on cloud nine along with Elvis. Mallory wasn’t even a whole day old yet she has already made an impact on your lives.

December 25, 1967

It was Christmas Day. You and baby Mallory finally got to go home. It was perfect. Elvis drove home so slowly compared to only two days before driving like a maniac. When you got home, everyone was there waiting on you. Elvis hurried up and opened your door with a big smile and proclaimed, “Everyone meet the newest Presley. Little miss Mallory Love Presley!”

You blushed and he took the chance to kiss you right on the mouth. Mallory was sound asleep so she had not a clue to the commotion. You finally got inside and that’s when you realized something: Mallory was gonna be spoiled rotten. She already had gifts around the tree. Her little stocking was already full now, probably thanks to Jerry, her godfather.

“Merry Christmas baby,” Elvis said in his true southern gentleman voice. Elvis took Mallory while you sat down on the couch trying to get comfortable. Sure you were still in some pain, but you didn’t care. You loved Christmas almost as much as you loved Elvis and you wanted it to be as normal as possible.

Of course Elvis had the home cameras going. It was magical, the lights on the tree twinkled. Laughter and smiles all filled Graceland. The Memphis Mafia got their turns in holding Mallory, the newest heir to the Presley family. Everyone said the same thing: she was your twin.

After everyone left, it was the three of you. Elvis shut the door and then scooped up Mallory from your arms into his. “How was that for your first Christmas baby girl?,” he cooed to her, sleeping away.

“I think she loved it babe,” you replied back to him,” thank you for everything E.P. I love you.”

“Anything for you, darlin” Elvis replied back. The two of you spent the rest of Christmas sleeping and taking care of Mallory. All was calm, all was bright.

[powerofelvis]

omg babe listen to this; timetraveler!elvis living in 2022 finding ur pretty pink satisfyer and wanting to see what all the fuzz is about.... I NEED IT

Babe omg, I had to write this out and I hope it’s not shitty because I had a lot of ideas of how I wanted this to go but I finally wrote it! I can only imagine how Elvis would act finding something like this 😂😂 I’m still getting used to writing smut so hopefully this did justice to this amazing ass idea!

———————————————————————

If someone told you that you would have ended up with the greatest musician of the 20th century, you would have laughed and called them crazy. Except that is what happened and it’s because he time traveled to your current time. You were out shopping for new clothes at the local clothing store when you bumped into someone’s back. You dropped your phone, which you knew you shouldn’t have been on while you were walking but who follows the rules anyway? You looked up while you were picking up your phone, embarrassed that you weren’t paying attention. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You apologized, as the stranger turned around. You could have sworn that you could have dropped dead on the spot.

“Oh darlin’, it’s quite alright.” He smiled, helping you to your feet. He looked exactly like Elvis Presley, your favorite musician of all time. “I’m Elvis and I believe that I’m lost..” He smiled, taking your hand into his, kissing the knuckle. Yeah, you were crazy…

Present time, 2022.

Elvis had been in the year 2022 for six months and during those six months, you fell madly in love with him. So much so that you had moved into his apartment and even talked about getting engaged at the end of the year. He had gotten used to being in a different era- he found himself a job, found himself an apartment, and even a girl. Elvis was madly in love with you just as much as you were with him. One day, you were in the bathroom after your shower, brushing your teeth. You were explaining how your day went to Elvis as he was in your shared bedroom, rummaging through something. What you didn’t know was that he had found your pink vibrator. Now Elvis did know what it was because you taught him about sex toys as you two were pretty sexually active with one another.

He smirked to himself, walking up to the bathroom door. “Now sweetheart, what is this?” He crossed his arms, still holding on to the vibrator in his hand. You gasped, turning red as you realized that even though he knew about it, he never saw one before. “It’s…its…” you stammered, embarrassed that he found something that you had tried to hide from him. “I want to know how this thing works, honey.” He winked, grabbing you by the hand and pulled you out towards the bedroom. All the while this was happening, you were still in a state of shock, unable to come to terms that Elvis had found your vibrator.

It wasn’t until your back hit the bed, that you snapped out of your shock. “What do you mean by that?” You asked shyly. He pulled your legs down until your hips were hanging at the end of the bed. Elvis didn’t answer you, too busy trying to get you in position for what he had planned for you. He placed the vibrator next to your hips as he lifted up your leg, placing kisses up your calf slowly. You gasped, watching him with awe. As he kissed up your leg, his hands pushed up your nightgown showing your black lace panties that you knew made me crazy. His fingers grabbed at the sides of your panties, pulling them off swiftly before pocketing them.

“I am dying to see what the buzz is about, lil mama.”

He kissed the inside of your leg before placing it over his shoulder, his lips ghosting over your core. His tongue lapped a stripe up your clit as your body shivered at the feeling of his wet muscle moving along your cunt. “Elvis..” you moaned as your hands found their way into his raven colored hair. His tongue continued its assault on your cunt, his hand moving slowly over to rub the bud in a circle motion. Your back arched off of the bed in pleasure, tugging at his hair. He moaned at the pressure, moving his hand away as he grabbed the vibrator that laid at your side. Your eyes popped open as you heard the vibrator turned on and pushed against your bud.

“So this is how it works?” Elvis smirks up at you, moving the vibrator in a circle motion against your cunt. He moved his head back down, resuming his assault on your clit. You moaned loudly, removing your hands from his hair, gripping at the satin sheets on the bed. “Elvis! Baby!” You screamed as your body shivered at the coil that was tightening in your stomach. He smirked, moving the vibrator along your lips, teasing your entrance. The vibrator roared as it entered inside of you, pushing you closer and closer up towards your climax. “I’m- I’m cumming!” You screamed as you came hard against the vibrator that continue fucking into you.

Elvis smirked happily, lapping up your essence as he removed the vibrator and throwing it on the floor. You sat up, pulling him down into a kiss as you reached down to feel his bulge that was straining against his pajama pants. “Well that was definitely something else, baby. So why don’t I return the favor?” You winked. Elvis knew that it was gonna be a long night and so did you.

[rxgueone]

TANG

Word count: 3,618

Pairing: Elvis!Austin x oc

Summary: A story based in the late 60s, Austin who works for a famous man, sees a girl in need of help, to which he comes to her aid.

Warnings: fluff, angst (?), age gap, smut is mentioned, cigarettes, smoking, hippies, and cursing.

Tags: none.

Note: This story is shit, but I had to get sumn out this week. If Tumblr deletes paragraphs. I’m gonna lose it.

MASTERLIST

—

Opening the door to the house, the tall figure had his hand in his pocket. With his black hair greased back into a pomade, clean shaven face, he seemed ready for another day. As he entered the house, he was greeted with his boss. “There you are, Austin!” Hearing a boastful voice. He meekly looked to where the voice was coming from. “You know them hippies was here last night, smokin’ pot down the damn street or sum’n like that.”

His boss, Colt. He was a nice guy. Tall, with tanned skin but blonde hair that was slicked back. Colt Turner was a famous guy. Real famous, and well, Austin worked for him. Always.

Colt had found Austin one day down the street, and thought that he was suited for some work. Austin at the time who was homeless, had figured it was a good idea. So he took the deal. What was the deal? If Austin could drive Colt around, take him to where he needed to be, make coffees for him and etc. then Austin would be payed.

Austin was allowed to drive Colt’s car anytime he wanted to. Colt didn’t mind, in fact, he actually encouraged his friend to do it. Austin was the only person allowed to touch Colt’s beautiful and well maintained car. Anyone else who touched it without Colt’s or Austin’s permission, Austin was pretty much obligated to punch them.

Colt met Austin when he was in his late teenage years, and now Austin was reaching his late twenties, while Colt was reaching his forties. In spite of having to work for Colt for such a long time. Austin trusted Colt with his life, and it was the same for Colt. They both would probably risk their lives for each other.

“Should’a been here, I would’a gotten you to take care of em.” Colt said, when he took out a cigarette case from his pocket. Popped it into his mouth like usual and struck it lit with a lighter. Austin smirked, shaking his head, as he walked towards his friend. He approached the kitchen to where Colt was standing, seeing him holding a glass root beer bottle. He grabbed a bottle opener, snapping the cap off with ease then handing it to Austin.

“What’d you do?” Austin dipped his head in thanks when he took the bottle. “How’d you scare em off?”

“I didn’t. I’m too scared.” Colt smirked, shaking his head. Taking a drag from his cigarette, “You’re tougher than me Aus.”

“I’m a stick.”

“You ain’t a stick. You work out, I see you work out, you fix my roof n’ everything. You ain’t weak.” Colt was baffled by how Austin was underestimating himself. To which Austin shrugged, taking a swig at the root beer before walking back to the door of the house, Colt following right behind him.

Austin grabbed the keys to Colt’s car, which was a 1969 Dodge Charger. He walked over to the drivers side of the car, unlocking the door then pressed the button that allowed the passenger side to open. Colt swung the door open and they both sat down in their places. With the car roaring to life, he took the shifter in his hand and put it into reverse, Austin looked over his shoulder. Stomping on the gas, the car shot backwards, break, spun forward, shift into drive.

Colt’s back slammed against the car seat, he gagged from his cigarette almost going down his throat. “Holy shit Austin-“ he coughed out, looking at his buddy, “-you could at least fuckin warn me dude!”

“My bad.” Austin chuckled slyly, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. With his other hand on his side, eyes narrowed to focus on the road in front of him. Colt chuckled, leaning back as he shook his head. Both windows rolled down so when Colt could smoke, it wouldn’t fill the car up.

“Oh yeah Aus,” Colt looked over at his friend, and in response Austin glanced at him, “I bought a supercharger kit for the lady, I was wonderin’ if you could drop by home n’ make sure it’s arrived safely. Also a new camshaft.”

“Sure.” He shrugged, not minding a thing.

Austin pulled up to the building to where Colt worked. Popping the door open, Colt took one smooth motion to walk out. Leaning down to look at Austin through the open window, he held onto the door. “Oi take good care of her.”

“I treat lady better than I do my own.” Austin assured, and Colt smiled, patting the top of the door before pulling away to walk into the building. Austin raised a brow as he watched Colt. “Aye Colt!”

“Yeh?” Swiftly turning around to face him.

“Do you need more for the rest of the day?”

“No, do whatever you want. Good luck to ya.” Colt smiled, winking at Austin before he turned his back on him. Walking towards the door of the building and opened it to disappear inside.

Austin sniffled, rubbing his nose for a moment to process what he was going to do. “Well shoot alright.” He giggled like a school boy, starting the car back up. Slowly prowling back into traffic. He leaned over to the dash, deciding to blast the radio.

—

Austin had stopped by at a stop light, he looked through the windshield and could see a girl who was standing on the sidewalk with her thumb up. She was alone, and looked in need for a ride. He stared at her quietly, intrigued.

She was pretty, he couldn’t lie. But, she looked young, real young. He was curious, why was a young girl like her out on her own. Shouldn’t she have been in school? Where it looked like she belonged. Unless Austin was just assuming wrong, it didn’t answer the question why she was out in the street.

Well, this was the 60s, the late 60s, and many young people were homeless cause they chose to be. Hippies… hippies and sex. In spite of her being a hippie, and the stigma behind them. Austin couldn’t help but worry over her. He saw her at that spot every damn day, and he wondered if any men would take advantage her.

Austin could see the girl look over at him, instantly, a beaming smile flashed on her face. She waved at him, and he tilted his head towards her, waving. She pointed to herself, then down the street, the opposite direction where Austin was headed.

‘Wanna give me a ride?’

Austin shook his head, then pointed forward. ‘I can’t, heading that way.’ After that, he shrugged in sorry.

She pouted at him, expressing her sadness. Then mouthed the words, ‘how about next time?’

Austin glanced at the light, seeing how it was still red. Looking back at her, he gave a nod. Mouthing back to her, ‘when I got time for you.’ It was a firm nod, he knew he had to keep his word to her. She smiled, jumping up in joy. She had successfully read his lips, and just as the light shot green. The Charger prowled forward. He waved bye to her as he drove past, and she returned the wave.

Austin had rolled up to Colt’s driveway. Right as he rolled up, he spotted two boxes stacked that was just sitting in the middle of the driveway beside his own stink bug of a car. Austin raised a brow up, as he parked the Charger beside his own car. Popping the door open, shutting it, then locking it. He walked towards the box quietly with his hands in his back pockets. He could feel a few strands of his own hair loosen up in front of his face.

“Well shoot.” He looked down at the two boxes stacked on top of each other, seeing the name COLT TURNER. Leaning down, his arms wrapped around the box. It was a supercharger, and it was going to be the heaviest pile of dung heap in the world. So with as much strength as he could form, he swiftly picked it up. Stumbling a bit as he walked towards the door of Colt’s house. “Holy fuck.” He breathed, trembling from how heavy it was. He was practically holding a whole engine.

—

When Austin went to go pick up Colt from work. He could see the girl in the same spot, this time with what looked to be her friend. Who also looked way too young for her own good. Austin watched them both as they held out their thumbs, sitting on the bus bench.

The girl had turned around, seeing the similar black 1969 Dodge Charger, and when she peered inside. She could see the same man who looked like Elvis’ doppelgänger. As she looked at him, he looked back at her with a blank expression, a smirk slowly peering on his lips. “That’s the guy I was talking about Lila!” She exclaimed, nudging at her friend who looked off her rocker. The girl pointed to the doppelgänger, waving at him.

He smiled, waved back at her. She pointed to herself, with raised brows. He shook his head, pointing down the street. She flailed her arms, annoyed he had no time for her. He was a handsome man, and she wanted to see if she could get her way with him. He looked kindhearted too, looked like he was a good listener. Which was why she wanted to befriend him so badly. Maybe yap away if she could.

But to her dismay, he had shaken his head no. Then mouthed the words. ‘When I got time for you.’ Like always, every day. But she couldn’t lie, for a man as handsome as him, she’d wait willingly. He dipped his head, waving goodbye to her as he drove off, she jumped up and down, waving bye at him.

When Austin had went to go pick up Colt. He could see him holding a can of beer, and Austin knew he’d probably have to deal with an emotional Colt, cause when Colt drank, he was emotional. Meaning something at work as well went wrong. “Hey there Aus,” he greeted as he opened the door, sitting down in the passenger side.

“Hey Colt.” He smiled, seeing Colt take a drink from his beer can. “Bad day at work?” Looking over his shoulder to drive back in the street, when he didn’t hear an answer, his head turn to glance at Colt. “What? Samantha reject you again or somethin’?”

“Samantha is as crude as a woman gets Aus!” Colt complained. “Damn well threw her coffee at me and I needed a new suit and everythin’ man!”

“Why she throw her coffee at you?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know Aus sum’n ‘bout the damn editors, and that ain’t even in my department either! Sure I produce but fuck me, I don’t focus on the editors! She does! God dammit Aus, she’s a strange woman. I don’t even know why they hired her.” He wiped the sweat off his brow. Austin glanced at Colt, he wore a brown leather jacket, black shirt with some white slacks. “Fuckin’ hate producing movies with her!”

“Yeah I bet Colt… I bet… wanna watch The Good, The Bad, The Ugly back at home? Bet that’ll cheer you up.” He suggested, a cunning smile on his face.

“Good idea… I should’a thought of that.” Colt inhaled, nodding his head repeatedly. “I knew I could trust you!” Punching at Austin’s shoulder, he was laughing, happy that his best friend could always cheer him up.

—

The next day it was the same routine. Austin had dropped Colt off. And he told him. “Do whatever you want for the rest of the day. I don’t need ya. I’ll take Lady down by the shop to get that supercharger installed. So just explore ‘round, pick me up at nine.”

“Sure thing.” And Austin watched Colt walk off into the building. He said nothing but start the car back up, knowing damn well that if he ran into that hippie again, he’d have to give her a ride. Considering he would repeatedly promise to give her a ride.

And he did. He ran into her again, and she was sitting on that same bench. She waved at him once she spotted him, he waved at her. She pointed to herself, raised brows. He gave a nod, confirming he could give her some of his time. He could hear her squeal dancing around, wiggling her hips like there was no tomorrow. Kickin the sand around as she danced, the light green, he pulled over in front her.

She saw him stop the car in front of her. “Hey there.” She heard the casual greeting, as she had leaned down to look at him. She couldn’t help but smile at him, now up close he seemed more handsome.

“Hi,” she bit her lower lip nervously, twitching endlessly, “I see you finally made time for me!”

“Yeah, my boss says I can screw ‘round today before takin’ Lady down to the shop tomorrow.” He informed.

“Well… can I come in?”

He gave a nod. She swung the door open, plopping down in the passenger seat. She leaned up close to him instantly, he sat in the drivers seat, relaxed as her face was inches away from his. “Where you headed off to?” He asked her.

“Creek side.” She gave the simple answer.

“Oh.”

“It’s just down—“

“I know where it is.” He cut her off. She looked at him, surprised. But that smile remained on her face, and he smirked at her. “I’ll take you there no problem.” Merging back into traffic, sighing. “So,” he started as he glanced at her, “whad’ya do? Just hitch round all up in here all day? And you ask someone to take you to Creek side when you’re done?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Well yeah, aw c’mon, tourists love me!” She laughed innocently at him. “They talk about me y’know? Tell people about that one pretty girl who made their ride the best experience they ever got! And an even better experience at Creek side.” She proclaimed confidently. Austin said nothing after that statement, simply shrugged and nodded along. Whatever you say. He thought to himself.

After a few miles of pure comfortable silence Austin had merged into the freeway. The girl had been staring the doppelgänger down intently, hadn’t yet learned his name yet. She could see how he had a clean shaven face, greased back black hair, one hand on the steering wheel of the car. He was bobbing his head to the radio, enjoying the sweet tunes that were playing. He wore a simple white shirt, jeans, with a belt and some cowboy boots.

Wanting to make conversation with him. “You remind me of Elvis.” She suddenly said.

Austin glanced at her. “The pomade?” He chuckled, quirking up a brow.

She gave a nod before leaning closer to him. “Only problem is,” she began, “is that your pomade unlike Elvis is messy.” Grabbing the loose hairs that was in his face, she slicked it back, then grabbed his face to force him to look at her.

His face was turned towards hers, but his eyes remained on the road. A small smile on her face as she let go so he could be fully focused on the road. She kept watching him drive. “Want me to suck your cock?”

He looked at her, raised brows at the sudden question. Licking his lips for a moment due to his amusement and not knowing how to react, he brought his hand to his mouth. His fingers rubbing his jawline, trying to hide his smile. She was bold, very bold. When he gave her another glance, her eager face distorted into a worried face, as if she was afraid that he’d reject her. “How old are you?”

“What?” She seemed offended by the question. “There’s no way you just asked me that.”

“How old are you?” Followed with a low chuckle. She could tell that he was serious. He shook his head, which caused her to believe he had already known.

“Wow man,” she thought about it for a moment. He was the first one to have ever asked her that in a long time. After maybe a hundred tourists it felt like, she was finally asked that. Shaking her head, “been a long time since someone asked me that.” She still didn’t answer his question.

He didn’t say anything but shake his head, amused by how she was avoiding his question. Glancing at her, he could see a hint of sadness in her eyes. As she watched him in those three seconds of silence, she had already went to the assumption that he was a good man. “Well,” deciding to press on, “I’m eighteen. There. Now can we get the show started?”

He revealed amused smile. Looking back at her with a face that showed he didn’t believe her for shit. “You got a drivers license? I need’a see sum’n that says you’re eighteen. Sure I’m givin’ you a ride but not that type of ride.”

She rolled her eyes, sitting back in the chair. “You’re obviously the fun one at parties huh?” She mocked, and he nodded his head. She kept looking at him, and now knowing that he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. She comfortably shifted in her spot, laying her head down on his lap.

He moved his hand out the way to let her, glancing down at her as she stared up at him in awe. “Why don’t you just do me? I mean, I’m sure Elvis would.”

“Because ma’am,” rolling his eyes, “if I’m ever gonna go to jail it ain’t because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants for some chic who keeps lying to me ‘bout her age so she gets in bed with me.” He said with a scoff. “And I ain’t Elvis.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I ain’t him, but I also ain’t like those stupid sons of bitches who take advantage of folk like you.”

“Folk like me? What? Hippies?” She wanted to clarify how he saw her, how he viewed people like her.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “you guys just got different beliefs. I ain’t gonna take that to my advantage. Most of you are young’uns.”

“You talk like you’re old.”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

“No you’re not.” She called his bluff. “You look like you’re some nineteen year old.” He scoffed but took it as a compliment. Reaching into his pocket to get out his wallet. He handed it to her, so she could take out his ID to look at it. She said nothing but take it, grabbing out his ID. She looked at the photo. He had a sultry look. With his lips slightly parted, dazed siren eyes. She kept looking at it, reading the information. “Name… Austin Butler, height is six-one, age is twenty-eight, sex is male… eye color gray…” she looked at his face to confirm that he had gray eyes. Which he did. Not only was he Elvis’ doppelgänger, but he even had the rarest eye color. Then looked back at the card, “…and Elvis’ doppelgänger.” She added. “Y’know, Austin Butler is a pretty badass name.”

“Badass?”

“Rolls right off the tongue.” She giggled childishly, kicking up her legs out of the car. “Austin Butler.” She repeated, still staring at his ID photo.

—

Pulling into the dirt lot of Creek side. He sat in the car for a moment, looking at the ranch site. He could see a few little sheds of the ranch that seemed occupied. Creek side was huge, it was like a little town actually in the eyes of Austin.

He looked at his surroundings, there were horses, cowboys, dogs walking around with old abandoned rusty cars, and of course, hippies as well. As he looked around with his eyes, he could see at least four of them were pregnant. Well, sex does make babies.

“Austin!”

His head shot towards the girl. “Hm?”

“C’mon.” She walked out the car. “I wanna introduce you to my friends!” She said eagerly. He sighed, hopping out the car and locking it like usual. He made his way towards the girl, and she reached out her hand. He took it, their fingers intertwining. She quickly walked forward, but he leaned back, slowing down her pace. Which had caused her to practically drag him behind her.

She was looking at her surroundings. So was he. And she saw at least only maybe 10-16 people there, when usually there was way more. “I wonder where everybody is.” She looked around, standing beside Austin, her hand still clutching his. “I mean, everyone is asking about this doppelgänger I keep talking about y’know.” As she kept walking around, she made her way towards another part of the ranch, a small little shop. Where a girl was walking towards her. And this girl looked to be a high schooler as well. “Hello!!” She called to them.

“Hey Connie!” The girl had ran towards them.

Connie let go of his hand, seeing that the girl wanted to embrace him, “Hey Angel.” They both exchanged a hug with a quick kiss. Austin slipped his hands into his pockets, watching them both quietly. “This is my friend Austin,” she looked up at Austin then at Angel. “The doppelgänger I keep tellin you guys about.”

“He does look like Elvis.” Angel looked at him up and down. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Yes.” Austin chuckled, his eyes looking at Connie then away from her.

[brxwneyezz]

what was the cause of my death? austin robert butler cradling a puppy in his arms and swaying🥹🥹🫶🏾 someone give this man a baby rn—(i volunteer as tribute🫡)

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• source: fansoaustinbutler via instagram and tiktok

[butlers-bitch]

summer boyfriend Austin Butler

🍉🌊🌞🐚🌺

[wanderingelvis]

🧚 WanderingElvis' Masterlist 🧚

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

2. Meeting Gladys & Graceland (Requested)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

18. Elvis overstimulates Innocent!Reader at the movies

Elvis Fanfictions

Sparkly Little Thing 🧚✨ | A Yandere!Elvis fic

Chapter One - The Party

Elvis Headcanons

CG!Elvis feeds Little F!Reader

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

3. How Elvis treats Innocent F!Reader in public

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

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

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

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

[mamaspresley]

trouble | austin!elvis au

wc 5,693 tw violence, sexuality (its the trouble performance so what do u expect)

Your first concert. A charity event, one that your best friend had scored tickets to seeing as her father worked for the foundation they were raising money for. Elvis Presley just so happened to be headlining the event, and seeing as you were his biggest fan right after Lucy, she knew you were the obvious choice to bring. The two of you had known each other forever, and fangirled over the controversial singer since the day you’d heard That’s All Right on the radio. Neither of you understood why the rest of your friends disliked him - he was so talented, charming, he sang so well, and was quite frankly the most handsome boy you’d ever laid eyes on. Not to mention, the way he moved… he had awoken feelings in you that you didn’t know were possible that day you’d watched him perform Hound Dog on live television. It seemed that after that show, his quite sexual style that he showcased in his performances disappeared. You watched him on the Steve Allen show as well, bundled up on the couch with Lucy that night. The two of you had waited all day for it to broadcast, only to be disappointed when he walked on stage in a tailcoat and sang to a dog, for Christ’s sake. Since that performance, every one that followed it was seemingly censored, and even just watching on your tv at home, you could tell the boy hated it as much as the rest of you. 

When Lucy phoned you and surprised you with tickets to the charity event at Russwood Park, you were over the moon, and the two of you talked non-stop about it until the day finally came. You went over to Lucy’s house to get ready, and it was then that your best friend finally said what you’d both been thinking the last month or so.

“Y/N,” she’d started off hesitantly, her voice lowering as she dabbed on a few coats of blush to her cheeks. You sat on her bed, watching her get ready at her vanity. “Do you think… Do you think Elvis will be good tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like–” she paused, lowering the brush she applied her makeup with, and turned around to face you. “Do you think he’ll go back to his old ways? With the dancing, and stuff?”

Oh. You knew exactly what she meant – you’d been wondering the same thing. “I hope so,” you answered, and it became obvious that the two of you understood each other. “He’s still good, but… I miss the old Elvis.”

“Me, too.”

The two of you finished getting ready and headed over to the stadium, the even was being held at the field for the Memphis Chicks baseball team. Lucy looked great, dressed in a green plaid dress, her hair pinned up. You were all dolled up as well, wearing a pink skirt and a white blouse with Oxfords on your feet. You had your hair curled to perfection, with the help of Lucy’s mom. The two of you looked wonderful, she had said right before you hopped into the car with Lucy’s father. He was a nice man, and was kind enough to get his daughter an extra ticket for you as well as drive you two to the event. Once you got there, it was packed, half of the stadium being full only because the other half was closed off at capacity. 

“Where are our seats?” you asked Lucy, taking her hand as she led you onto the field. Onto the field? “No way…”

“Right up front!” Lucy looked back at you with a grin, and the look on your face was almost comedic, your jaw dropped. “Not necessarily up front, but it’s general admission, so it’s wherever we can fit.” You stuck to the side, walking against the rope that separated the coloured people from the whites, and glanced over. They were all dancing, laughing, having a good time, and you couldn’t help but smile. You never did understand the need for segregation, you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the idea of treating someone different just because they didn’t look like you. The crowd on your left looked a lot more fun than the one you were a part of, but you didn’t have too much time to think much on it as you almost lost your footing, getting pulled to the front by Lucy.

“We’re so close!” you gasped as the two of you found a safe spot, only a few rows of people separating you from the stage. Gripping both of her hands, you looked at Lucy with an excited smile. “This is unbelievable!”

“I know. I can’t believe my daddy got us these!” The two of you squealed in excitement, your heart racing more and more with each minute that went by, and before you knew it, a man stepped on stage and the crowd roared loudly. The man announced that Elvis Presley would be coming out, and if you thought the screams were loud before, you were in for a surprise when everyone laid eyes on the boy of the hour. He was standing off to the side, halfway up the stairs, bent over as he spoke to some man below him. He was dressed in all black, his tie red as the only accent on colour on him, and when he began walking across the stage, a guitar hanging from over his shoulder, you felt your breath escape you.

“Oh my God, it’s him!” Lucy was squeezing your hand as tight as she could, and the way your heart picked up in your chest, you were sure it was lethal.

Everyone was cheering, girls around you were losing their minds, and when he stepped up to the microphone and looked out into the crowd, you found yourself praying to the heavens above that he would notice you in the sea of fans.  You knew it was silly, even childish to think such a thing, but the excited teenage girl inside of you had the littlest bit of faith.

“There’s been a lot of talk about the new Elvis.” At his words, everyone booed. “And of course, that other guy…” He lifted a hand, wiggling his pinky finger in the air. “You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog … cryin’ all the time.” He couldn’t sing the lyrics without letting out a chuckle, and you and Lucy cheered excitedly. That was your favourite song.

His laugh into the microphone was like music to your ears, and to see him smiling as he did so had your stomach twisting and turning. His voice was so deep and husky as he spoke into the microphone and projected out of the speakers all around the stadium. You’d never heard him in real life, only over the radio, your record player, or on tv at home. In person was so much different – he was so much different. Taller than you expected, leaner and much more handsome. You were sure every girl surrounding you was feeling the same way as you, overwhelmed by his perfectness.

“There’s a lot of people saying a lot of things,” he said, looking up into the night sky as he spoke, his hand wrapped around the mic. “Of course you gotta listen to the people that you love…” He looked off to the right, and you followed his gaze, wondering if his own family was here at the show. “But in the end you gotta listen to yourself.”

Screams erupted at that, and it wasn’t a long pause before he gripped the microphone stand harder and said, “So I want you to know those New York people ain’t gonna change me none!” Elvis lifted the guitar off his back, moving to place it on top of the piano at the edge of the stage. He muttered something to one of his band members before grabbing the microphone again, and in a deep, aggressive voice he yelled, “I’m gonna show you what the real Elvis is like tonight!”

The crowd erupted into a cacophony of wild cheers and screams, and you froze in your sport, palms clammy and your heart pounding in your chest. Lucy squeezed your hand tightly, squealing as excitement took over both of you.

The first note of the song came as a loud bang of the guitar, and everyone around you went wild. “If you’re lookin’ for trouble … you came to the right place.” You’d never heard this song before, he must’ve been saving it for this show. “If you’re lookin’ for trouble … just look right in my face.”

You watched Elvis put all that he had into performing the song. He was singing with so much passion and aggression, his body moving in ways that were definitely unholy and if they weren’t illegal, he sure was making them. The crowd was going crazy and you were getting pushed every which way as girls around you tried to claw their way to the front, some of them even attempting to climb on stage. At one point, Lucy stepped into a spot by the barricade of officers, and she reached for your hand to pull you up with her. You were in the front row, and the boy you’d dreamt about since hearing his first song on the radio was just a few feet away from you.

You felt like you were dreaming.

“I’m only made out … of flesh, blood and bones,” he sang. Lucy dragged you with her off to the side, away from the officers where one girl was leaning her entire upper half onto the stage. “But if you’re gonna start a rumble don’t you try it out alone!” Elvis swivelled his hips, swinging himself up onto his toes before he dropped down to his knees, right in front of you, and pushed his pelvis up into the air only inches away from your face. 

“Because I’m… evil.” Suddenly, Elvis was reaching for you, his fingers wrapping around your jaw as he leaned in as close as a man has ever been to you, and the way his dark, cloudy eyes stared into you had your knees buckling. “My middle name is misery.” You could feel his breath fanning on your face as he sang, his close proximity causing your mind to grow foggy as you took in his scent, his cologne suffocating you in the best way. 

The boy was so close to you, his slender fingers grasping onto your jaw in a bruising manner but you were completely okay with it. He was leaning down, his lips so close to yours, and you were almost sure he was about to connect them before he suddenly pushed himself back up, shooting a look in your direction as he walked backwards across the stage. “Well I’m evil,” he sang, never breaking eye contact, until he dropped the stand of his microphone, catching it just before it hit the ground. He leaned down, holding the mic up to his lips. “So don’t you mess around with me.”

You took the rest of the song to recover, and thankfully he didn’t really return to your section otherwise you were sure you would disintegrate into the grass below you. You couldn’t believe what had just happened, and apparently, neither could Lucy, as your best friend grabbed both of your shoulders, turning you to her as she screamed. “Elvis Presley just touched you!”

“I know.” You were in shock, your fingers reaching up to ghost over the place where his had last been, and suddenly you were pulled out of your trance by the crowd shifting, and you had been bumped a few rows back with Lucy right beside you. The magical moment was over, unfortunately, and the show went on as girls threw themselves at him left and right. The guards standing in front of the stage tried their very best to hold everyone back, but as Elvis turned his performance and lewd movements up a notch, all hell seemed to break loose.

He was lying on the floor, thrusting his hips up against the microphone stand as he sang, rolling around and feeling the music overtake his body. He moved to the other side of the stage, grabbing the statue of a dog that sat in the corner, and hugged it to his side as he sang to it. 

His acts became more and more deranged, the intensity and passion of the music getting to his head as he threw himself into the crowd. Fans left and right tried to get ahold of him, and he climbed back onto the stage, crawling across the floor and he reached for the mic and screamed the rest of the lyrics. It was absolute chaos, and you were overwhelmed at how fast the show had gotten completely out of hand. You could see at the edge of the crowd, police officers were beating people with their batons, mainly the coloured people that had escaped the restraints of their designated section, and your stomach dropped at the sight. You felt like you were going to be sick, and as you turned to point out the acts of violence to Lucy, you realized she was gone.

Elvis wasn’t even singing now, he was being tackled by security guards up on the stage, but you paid the singer no mind as you looked for your friend throughout the crowd. In the corner of your eye, you saw a group of girls climbing onto the stage, and thankfully recognized one of them in her green dress. “Lucy!” you shouted, pushing your way to the front. The crowd was getting violent, elbows were thrown and you’d nearly caught one in the face as you got shoved forward. “Lucy!” 

She glanced over at you, screaming your name as she reached out her hand down to you. You took it, letting her pull you up and escape the angry hoard of fans. It was then that you realized how bad this truly was – officers were trying to usher you and the rest of the girls off stage while they held Elvis back as well. He looked angry, his face red and dewy with sweat, the veins in his forehead along with up the side of his neck popping out of his skin while he pushed back against the men.

“Elvis!” a few of the girls called out, and suddenly, you felt a body collide with yours, and then you were on the floor of the stage. Your vision went blurry and a sharp pain shot up your legs when your knees hit the hard surface. 

“Don’t fucking touch her!” a masculine voice yelled out, and you’d barely caught it before feeling a metal baton hit your side harshly, winding you slightly as you collapsed to the ground. Because of the pain, you blocked everything out – whatever you saw, anything you could hear, any presences around you; it was all black as you laid on the cool surface below you. It wasn’t until you felt someone grab your hand and pull you away that your vision came back, and you saw Lucy standing above you.

“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?”

“Hey, hey, hey – is she alright?” If it weren’t for the haze that your eyes were casted in, you could’ve swore you saw Elvis Presley making his way over, his hand reaching out for you. Except your vision couldn’t have made out the way his touch felt on your cheek, and it was then that you finally blinked away all the tears in your eyes, and clearly saw the scene in front of you. Elvis Presley, with his hand on the side of your face, a look of concern cast over his features as well as splatters of blood and bruises, his hair damp and his skin sweaty as he knelt in front of you.

“You all right, darlin’?”

Whether it was the shock from the beating, or from the boy of your dreams right in front of you, you couldn’t seem to make up the words to answer.

“Elvis! Elvis!” Throughout the sudden bliss you’d found yourself in, there was still a riot happening all around you, and as more police officers tried to rip Elvis away, you realized he’d broken away from his restraints to help you. A girl he knew nothing about, not even your name, and he had focused his attention on helping you rather than escaping the cops after him. 

Lucy was quick to get you to your feet, her arm around your shoulders as she pulled you in the direction of a safer area, not caring too much about the man that had caused all this commotion. But you did, and you glanced back over your shoulder to see Elvis, his all black attire standing out in a sea of white uniforms, his body squirming under their hold as he tried desperately to get free.

“Get off’a me!” he yelled, pulling an arm free from one of the officers to push another one away, and you watched as he pointed out towards the crowd. “Mama, you get in the car!” Your gaze followed over to where he was looking, and saw an older woman trying to break free of the officers as well, worry written across her face as she screamed out for her son. Elvis was captured again, but he was quick to retaliate back as he swung a punch out, hitting one of the men square in the nose. He had managed to rid himself of the officers, but you knew there’d be more. And so did he, but he managed to look over at you frantically, checking to make sure you had made it out alright.

“Y/N, come on!” Lucy tugged you along, and you found yourself having to break eye contact with the boy as you followed your friend. With one last glance, you watched as the boy was shoved into the back of a police car, and when the door was slammed shut on him you turned back around, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in leaving your lips. “We gotta get outta here!”

About two days had gone by since the concert, and to say you hadn’t fully processed it would be an understatement. Lucy and her father had taken you to the hospital that night to get you checked out, since apparently you’d taken a pretty brutal beating – Lucy reinformed you of the events from that night, since you had blacked out after the first collision with the officer, and from what she told you, you were surprised you weren’t hurt more. A broken rib, they’d diagnosed you with at the hospital, and some internal bruising, but that was it. Everyone was saying how lucky you were, but you only began to think so a few nights later when the boy who had caused it all showed up on your doorstep.

“Y/N, honey, there’s a visitor for you,” your mother said as she peeked into your bedroom. You’d spent the last two days in there, curled up with a book as the doctor advised you take the next week to rest. Lucy had stopped by once to check on you but that was it – you assumed it was her again, but you were a little confused why she’d be visiting you so late at night. Her daddy had a strict curfew of eight pm, and it was hours past that.

Standing in your foyer was the dark haired boy you thought you’d never see again, Elvis Presley. He was dressed in all black, dress pants and a long sleeved button up, which did nothing to attend to the name as it was popped open halfway down his chest. His hair was styled messy, a few strands falling across his forehead, and as you took the final step down the stairs, you noticed the cut on his lip and bruising around his cheek.

“My God,” you mumbled, not at the fact that the Elvis Presley was standing in your home but at the sight of the boy from the events of two nights before. “They really hurt you, didn’t they?”

“I could say the same for you,” he said, the Southern drawl of his voice causing your heart rate to pick up, much like it did the other night when you’d laid eyes on him for the first time. “Took me a while to find you. I, I–” He raised a hand to the back of his neck, casting his gaze down nervously. “I couldn’t sleep, not knowin’ how you were doin’.”

Although it was beating rapidly in your chest, your heart seemed to be swelling up, as well, at the thought of Elvis caring so much about you. You wondered how he found you, not even knowing your name, but you pushed the thought to the side as you hugged your arms close to your chest. “You worried that much?”

“Of course. What they did to you was… was horrible, darlin’.” The nickname had your stomach twisting, but not as much as it did when he stepped closer to you. Suddenly, you were aware of the fact that your mother and father were in the room next to you, and you interrupted the boy to lead him outside. Soon enough, you sat on your porch in the dark of the night, his knee knocking against yours as you resided on the front steps, sitting oddly close together. The porch light was on as well as the lamps lining your street, but that was about it for light. It was pitch black out, and you wondered what he was doing wandering around at night looking for you.

“I wanted to come here and apologize, most importantly,” Elvis had said, holding your hands as you stared up at the boy. His eyes were much different now than they were when you were staring into them just the other day – they were dark, then, and dangerous. Now as you admired them, the porch light above you casting a shadow over his face, a beautiful shade of blue took them on, his irises sparkling when he looked down at you. “What happened to you was my fault, and although I don’t regret a thing I did for my career, I do curse myself everyday for lettin’ that happen to ya. I shouldn’t’a let it get that bad, and–”

“Elvis,” you said, cutting him off, and the boy closed his mouth as he let you speak. “It’s okay. I didn’t get hurt too bad.”

“But you could’ve, and it’s my responsibility to keep you safe. I’m sure you and your friend paid a hefty amount o’ money to come see me perform, and knowin’ that I put y’all in danger just by bein’ there–” The worry and concern on his face was something that you wish you could keep in your memory forever. Elvis was truly such a kind-hearted, sweet and caring man, and it hurt your heart knowing that he’d gone the last two days in pain from worrying so much about you.

“You did what you had to do,” you said, and the words that left your lips had a confused expression replacing the previous one on Elvis’s face. “That performance was amazing, and I’m glad I got to see it. Even if I did end up gettin’ hurt at the end.” You gave him a soft smile, and Elvis squeezed your hands. “That’s what everyone came to see, the real Elvis. No one wants to see you all dressed up singin’ to a damn dog.” 

Elvis smiled widely at your words, chuckling as he looked over at you. “You know, you’re the first person to tell me the truth in a long while.”

“Well I’m glad I could help,” you said with a nod, and Elvis reached a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Elvis?” The boy hummed, his eyes fixated on his fingers twirling in your hair. “For what it’s worth, I… I really like the real Elvis.”

His eyes darted back to meet yours, and the shy smile toying on your lips enticed a wicked grin on his. “You do?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “He’s unlike any other.”

His smirk had butterflies in your stomach, and you watched as the outline of his tongue moved to poke his cheek. “Well, thank you, darlin’.” His hand dropped from your hair, down to the ground beneath him as he leaned back onto his elbows, his legs extending as he crossed them at the ankles. He relaxed into himself, looking out into the dark before tilting his head to the side, gazing up at you. “You know, they’re sendin’ me to the army.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at the boy, not a trace of sarcasm or any joking manner to be found in his features. “What?”

He nodded, and you found your heart sinking in your chest. “It’s either that, or jail. I don’t think I’d do too well there,” he said with a chuckle, but you didn’t find it funny at all. “And who knows, maybe the service’ll be good for me. The Colonel says it’ll be like a fresh start. Clean cut, all-American boy for when I come back.” You had no clue who this Colonel fellow was, but you couldn’t disagree with him more. Elvis looked up at you, his eyes darting between yours in search of some sign of something. “What you thinkin’, baby?”

“I’m thinkin’ this Colonel guy’s a damn fool.”

At that, Elvis laughed. It was a throw-your-head-back, deep from the belly type of laugh, and if you weren’t so damn mad at the thought of him being sent across seas as punishment, you would’ve admired the sound. “A lotta people been tellin’ me that lately.” He looked down at his shoes, black and white and shiny and expensive-looking, tapping the toes together as he spoke. “He knows what’s best for me, though. He brought me this far.”

“Mr. Presley, if I may,” you started politely, placing a hand over his as you looked at him. “That was all you.”

The boy looked at you now, his lips pressed into a firm line as he took in your words. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, and it was beautiful how pensive the boy was, his eyes narrowing into yours. It took him a few moments to answer, but when he did, it was nothing what you expected.

“Where have you been all my life, Y/N Y/L/N?”

Jesus, was your heart being put through the ringer today. It had nearly stopped beating altogether at his question, and your eyebrows twitched inwards as you stuttered nervously. “What?”

“I’ve never met anyone like you.” His words were genuine, you could tell, and the look he was giving you, eyes never leaving yours for the past three minutes, had you convinced that he really meant what he said. 

“Well–” you stammered, and it took all of the confidence gathered within you to muster your next words. “Well I’d hope not.” Elvis smiled at this, and he laughed to himself a bit before finally breaking eye contact and staring back down at his shoes.

“You ever been in love, Y/N?”

Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows. “I’m sorry?”

“I thought I was in love, once.” The boy was talking to the air, his head leaning back as he looked up at the sky and the stars. “Dixie Locke. She was my girlfriend back when I was just startin’ out. I thought I loved her – Hell, it just took me the last couple o’ days to figure out I didn’t.”

“If you’ll forgive me,” you said, “I don’t got a clue what you’re gettin’ at, Mr. Presley.”

Elvis smiled, rolling his head over to look at you, not quite moving the rest of his body. The smile on his lips was lazy, relaxed, and the expression in his eyes was the same. It was like there wasn’t a care in the world that he had. Despite half the country wanting to throw him in jail, his awaited shipment off to the service, and everything else the most famous man in the world would have to worry about, there wasn’t a concern in mind when it came to Elvis in that moment.

“I didn’t know what love was ‘til I met you, Y/N.”

Your mouth ran dry. 

“I didn’t mean for it to be you, when I grabbed you that night, sang to you. It was like you fell right into my lap, all helpless and pretty and innocent. I thought you were gorgeous.” He wasn’t even speaking to you, more to himself as he recounted the night, looking back out off the porch. “Still do. Most beautiful girl I ever seen. And then everything happened and I– When I saw you,” Elvis looked over at you again, “I melted. Those goddamned police officers had me, but then I watched you get hit and I just… I saw red. I couldn’t believe my eyes. My God, Y/N, I’d never been so damn angry in my life.”

You listened to him silently, your hands in your lap while you watched him display every emotion he felt that night on his face while he told you the story from his perspective.

“They got mad at me for makin’ sure you were all right,” he said, and you assumed he was talking about his crew, the people he associated with, “but it was like I was possessed, or somethin’. All I could think about was you, and I wanted to stay with ya longer ‘n’ make sure you were okay, but I got snatched up by those damned officers again. Soon as they let me go I went searchin’ for ya.” Elvis laughed as he admitted that, and he was relieved to look over and see you smiling at the tale. “Took a while, but… I got to ya.”

“I don’t…” You were blushing, smiling shyly as he stared on at you. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t gotta say nothin’,” he said, reaching a hand up to cup your face, the pad of his thumb smoothing over your cheek gently. “I just needed to find ya, make sure you were alright.” There was a moment of silence, filled with the adoring looks the two of you poured into one another’s gaze, until Elvis spoke up again. “You know, it’s funny.”

“What is?”

“How fast I booked it outta there when Billy told me they’d found you.” Elvis smiled, his hand still on your cheek as he remembered the scene that took place less than an hour prior. “I was sittin’ at home, talkin’ with the Colonel, and Mama and Daddy about the war. I got my draft letter and Mama was just wailin’ – Oh, she was goin’ on about how I can’t go to Germany, and everyone was arguin’. Then Cousin Billy came runnin’ in – I’d never felt such excitement in my life. He told me they’d found your friend’s daddy and tracked you down. I swear on my mama, Y/N, I ain’t never drove faster in my life tryin’ to get to ya.”

The smile on your lips stretched wide and Elvis grinned, grabbing your hand as he lifted it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “It felt like the end o’ the world ‘til I finally found ya.”

“You’re a real charmer,” you mumbled, blushing as Elvis continued to press kisses up your hand, around to your wrist, “you know that?”

He hummed, leaning onto his side now as he met your eyes once more. He was propped up on his elbows, holding your hand in both of his, his lips dancing around your fingers as he stared up at you adoringly. You nearly had to pinch yourself at the occurring event – Elvis Presley was sitting on your porch, leaving kisses all over your skin, confessing his love for you. Two days ago and you wouldn’t have even dreamed of this; it all seemed so out of reach.

“What are you thinkin’ about, baby?” he asked you, for the second time that night, and you smiled small as you gave your answer.

“You.”

You watched as he enclosed his bottom lip between his teeth, keeping the smirk he had growing at bay. “You’re a real charmer, you know that?” he teased, using your own words against you, and at the blush spreading across your cheeks you smacked him on the arm lightly. “Will you write me when I’m in Germany?”

The recurring knowledge of his departure hit you like a freight train, and the sight of the frown twitching at your lips didn’t escape him as Elvis squeezed your hand. “Only two years, baby. Then I’ll come home to ya.”

You had a hard time finding the comfort in his words as you were focused on the seven hundred and thirty days you’d have to go without him. “I’ll write to you everyday.”

He smiled, moving his free hand back to cup your cheek. “And you ain’t better find no other man to treat you while I’m away. You hear me, little one?”

You nod, falling into his touch, and it’s when you begin to close your eyes that Elvis sits back up, stirring you from your trance as he pulls you forward. As quick as you opened your eyes, you were closing them again when his lips fell on yours, inhabiting them with his sweet taste and the familiar smell of his cologne you’d been dreaming about since the last time he’d had you this close.

His lips were soft, glistening and swollen when you pulled away to catch your breath. Elvis held you close as he rested his forehead against yours. “Been dreamin’ about that since the moment I saw you,” he mumbled, and you smiled as you closed your eyes, taking in his voice, his scent, the warmth still on your lips after the kiss. “I’ll write you soon as I get there, my girl.”

“I’ll be waitin’, Mr. Presley.”

It was a short goodbye, he’d kissed you once more before heading down your driveway and hopping in his purple Cadillac. With a sad but excited feeling nestled in your chest, you headed back inside, only to be met with both of your parents standing in the living room, waiting.

“Sorry, Mama. And Daddy.” You looked sheepish as you closed the door behind you, leaning up against it as you read the looks on both your parents’ faces. Your father looked upset, whereas your mother, you knew, wasn’t mad at all. “He’s bein’ sent off to the service. Germany, for two years.”

“Good. I don’t wanna see that boy around you again,” your father said gruffly, and you gulped, nodding as you looked down. You heard his foot steps retreat and it was your mother’s clear of her throat that had you glancing upward.

“Don’t listen to your father. I think he’s a nice boy,” she said, and you smiled. “Very kind of him, to come all this way to check on you. That shows a lot of character. If your father knew the full story I’m sure he’d agree.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

“And he’s a real cute one, isn’t he?” She moved to look out the window, peering through the curtains but becoming disappointed after seeing he’d left already. “That’s a shame he won’t be around for a while. I’ve always sorta liked that Presley boy.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Me too.”

part two here!

➳ @satninbeaulieu @suspiciousbutler @sagesolsticewrites @shimmeringlights44 @imanibyfaith @butlersbitxh @floralcyanide @sassy-ahsoka-tano @austin-butlers-gf @butlersbabe @dontbesussis @x-earthangel @anangelwhodidntfall @she-is-juniper @butler-on-beale-street @iloveaustinbutler @http-sponge @theliterarybeldam @melodydior @dances-and-dolly-dresses @mommy-maia @alligator-person @elvisabutler @scarlet-knight @austiebutbut @80s-outsiders @a-bolanos @sweetheartlizzie07 @ghxst-heart @matchaluvr123

[stephstars08]

I miss my Elvis 2022 era so bad!😞😞😞

[lowlifesymptoms]

just thoughts, just thinkin thoughts

[everythingpresley]

Jess’s view, if you know what I mean😉 Teaser for Chapter 7 of Don’t You Kiss Me Once or Twice