#elvis smut lite

[be-my-ally]

Like Pieces into Place

This is part of my prompt fill for fall/autumn and/or halloween. I started writing and the wordcount spiralled out of control (7k and counting... I intended it on being maybe 2? lol) but I didn't start writing it until today and was desperate to post something tonight, so take this as a sneak peek. The rest - including a trip to the Memphian, my dreams of ‘72 Elvis in a knit, and smut to come later this week.

summary: it's autumn 1972, and Elvis' girl on the side, Laura (from All Revved Up), who is no longer the girl on the side -- has come to stay at Graceland.

wc: sneak peak 1.3k I'll attach the inspo pics when the rest is posted since they don't hugely fit with this opening part.

October 19th 1972 Graceland. 

It’s quiet as Laura pads down the stairs, suspicious of the silence in the house - hoping that Elvis hadn’t actually up and left her on her own. She hadn’t bothered to get dressed, hoping to find him quickly and work out what she should wear today, and besides, it was early - knowing him they’d end up back in bed soon. But she hadn’t really expected having to go all the way downstairs before she could call to him. She wraps her arm around herself as she looks around, it’s the first time she’s been cold at Graceland, really, she’s only been there a handful of times anyway - and last year in the colder months he’d had her over in Palm Springs. Sure, he kept his room at a frankly ridiculous temperature but under the warmth of his heavy comforter and arm she barely felt it. Now though it feels as though there’s a cool breeze running through the house. The late summer having certainly given way to autumn, bronzed leaves starting to fall off the trees.  

Elvis is nowhere to be found as she peeks around doorways and arches, and she wonders if she should give up and just wait for him to show up in the bedroom - but she’s sure he’d have woken her up if he was leaving, so he must be around here somewhere. She’s grateful there’s carpet in the kitchen for her bare toes when she creeps around the corner, the breeze suddenly stronger. The mystery is quickly solved; the door to the hallway flapping from the exterior door being left open. Laura huffs as she slams them shut, but it does at least explain where they’ve all gone (and why it was so breezy in the house). She looks down at herself, considering if she was prepared to venture out, but it’s just this side of too cold, and besides she’s fairly sure Elvis would flip out at her parading outside in just her silk robe. She heads down to the den, intending on just getting a little glimpse before going to get changed.  

She quickly spots some of the guys, as she peeks out of the glass, but they’re all just a little too far to the side to see properly. She leans against the windowsill to help her stretch to peer as far as she can out, tiptoes rubbing into the plush green carpet. A football comes flying and Joe comes running past, red-faced and struggling to breathe in an attempt to catch it. She can’t help but giggle watching him as the collection of men come trotting around the corner to join him. Elvis at the end of the group, looking pleased with what had clearly been his throw. Laura leans as close as possible to the window, ducking her head under the little curtain, appreciating the look of him having fun. He’s practically bouncing around outside, dressed casually in a way she hasn’t really seen before - his velour zip-up looking particularly cozy. He’s a little thicker than he was in the height of the summer and in Laura’s opinion it looks good on him; she’s a fan of how he’s styling his hair at the moment too - the slightly longer shaggy length of it that seems to look like he’s either just combed it  into a gentle swoop or like he’s been rolling around on it.  Both looks make her tummy flip if she looks at them for too long. He’s foregone his tinted glasses, whether because it was overcast and therefore the light manageable to his eyes, or simply from fear of the football being thrown Laura didn’t know. She could, however, just from looking at the set of his shoulders tell that for once he seemed untroubled. As calm as he could ever be, his carefree attitude was evident even from a distance. He spots her at the window after a couple more passes, his face lighting up as he jogged over to the window.  

Even though Laura was watching him she still startles when he taps the glass, through the decorative metal, grinning at her. She beams back - thrilled at his happy face.  

“How'd’you sleep honey?” He shouts at her, muffled but still audible, she giggles in response - shaking her head at his antics. She’s quite sure she’s somehow alone in the house, but she wasn’t about to start shouting through a window at him. He folds his arms, leaning back to look her up and down, frowning suddenly and insistently tapping the glass again in mock outrage.  

“Get dressed!” Laura shakes her head again, teasing him and watches as he signals something to the boys who all jog off to one side. She’s too distracted by all the movement to notice Elvis himself disappearing, until the door slams open. She stumbles, caught in the drape when she tries to whirl herself around - but before she can right herself there’s an arm suddenly wrapping around her middle, holding her tight and close. Despite the plush velour rubbing against her back, she can feel the chill on him; they must have been out there playing for a while already.  

“Jesus Elvis! You’re freezing!” He shakes his head, laughing and shoving his cold nose into the crook of her neck, “Elvis!” She tries to dance and wriggle out of his hold, but he has a surprisingly tight grip onto her.  

“Not my fault Lor! Y’gotta get dressed, honey, catch yer death runnin’ round like this!” He tugs her away from the window, bundling them towards the middle of the room.  

“Didn’t need - didn’t need to before.” His hands brush up her sides and she squirms as he tickles her. “‘Fore someone kept shoving their nose places it didn’t be-” Laura yelps when his nose makes another appearance, now with accompanying snuffle-snorting noises. “-long!”  

“Oh yes you do. Can’t have you like this -” Elvis holds her with one arm, the other hand trailing down to brush across her bare thigh, large hand parting her robe and pushing up her nightgown. Laura involuntarily clenches her thighs and immediately feels his huff of laughter as he feels it. His voice lowering as he leans closer to her ear, the gentle vibration sending goose-pimples across her skin. “Not like this.” He flicks at the hem, now high enough to send a gust of air across the crease of her upper thigh, just the threat of exposure enough to make her gasp. 

He smooths the fabric back down, mock outrage back in his voice; “Anyone could see you!” As if he wasn’t the one exposing her. He prods his long fingers into her tummy, making her crunch in an attempt to squirm away from his tickling, giggling the whole time.  

“No, no!” She shrieks, “No more! I give!” He stills his hands and between gulps of air she tells him, “I’ll get dressed! I give.”   

“Y’better!” he growls against her ear, squeezing her tight to his torso for a long second before releasing her with a grunt. A self-satisfied smile on his face when he pulls her around to face him, her own rosy cheeks matching his. He flicks at the hem of her nightgown again, shaking his head at her.  

“Go on then.” He turns her to the stairs, slapping her behind as she stumbles calling out to her as she heads up the stairs and back up to his bedroom “Hurry! Want you to be my little cheerleader out there!” 

---- taglist -----

@thatbanditqueen @vintageshanny @arrolyn1114 @from-memphis-with-love @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @shakerattlescroll @peskybedtime @dkayfixates @lookingforrainbows

[rjmartin11]

Just One Kiss Chapter Seven

Pairing: Elvis & female!reader

Summary: Once upon a Memphis time, you and Elvis were very close friends who turned lovers. After he went into the Army, you both drifted apart, leaving you heartbroken. Time passes, and you go on a Vegas business trip with your long-term boyfriend, Edward, and find out that your old lover is performing at The International Hotel. Old feelings surface once again, and you plan on making this a trip neither of you will soon forget.

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: Smut, cheating, breakups and make ups, lite comedy. Happy ending.

Author's Notes: Welcome to Chapter Seven a.k.a the end of this series. I love the response this has received. I knew this was not going to be a long story when I started writing it. I can see myself writing more in the future, but only time will tell. There will be an epilogue coming soon to a Tumblr feed near you. 😉

Thank y'all again for all the kind words and thoughts. If you like this chapter, like, repost, comment, and follow! Here we go!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ💋✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ

You run off the elevator to your room with Eddie. Hoping... no! Praying he's there, so you tell him how you feel about him. Eddie was the best guy for you now. He was there for you at a point where you didn't think you could go on. Yes, he worked a lot, but a good guy works a lot for the things he wants. He's honorable, kind, and brilliant. He's everything plus more. You're going to tell him.

You know he's been distant lately, but you are to blame for that. You haven't told Eddie you love him because of fear. Fear that all men are the same. Fear that he'll hurt you the way Elvis did. If you didn't say, "I love you," to Eddie, and he hurts you. The sting of disappointment wouldn't be the same. But he's different. You know he is different, so you must tell him.

You grab the handle to the door, realizing that the door is open, and you burst into the room.

"Eddie, I.... Oh my g!!!" You shout.

"Y/N!" Eddie shouts.

Eddie naked in all his glory in a compromising position with Jacqueline, his secretary. You turn around fast to erase the fact that Eddie had her in the bed you shared with him less than twenty-four hours ago. You want to erase the image of Jacqueline sprawled on all fours, with Eddie taking her from the back.

"Y/N..." Eddie says, running up behind you and turning you around to face him. "Baby, it's not what it looks like."

"So you were just balls deep in Jacqueline's ass?" You say calmly.

"Y/N..."

"Stop, Eddie." You hold up your hand to stop him from speaking. "Does she make you happy?"

"What?" Eddie is baffled by you question.

"Does. She. Make you happy?"

Eddie holds his towel and looks away from your eyes. You see the wheels in his head turning and turning. He's so concentrated on your question.

"She... she does. Yeah." Eddie finally answered you.

"Does your heart glow when she's around you?"

Eddie nods his head.

"What the fuck is her problem, Eddie?!" Jacqueline asks. "I knew she was soft, but..."

"Jacqueline, dear heart. You aren't worth my energy." You say.

You look back at Eddie and smile. You shake your head, feeling quite proud of yourself. You almost gave your heart to a man who didn't truly care about you.

"Eddie, if she makes you happy. Be with her."

"Y/N, I..."

"Shhhh. You don't own me any explanation."

"Why can't you be mad? Why aren't you fighting me? Fighting for us?!" Eddie shouts.

"I'm furious." You spoke calmly. "There's nothing left to fight for. You took a page out of the female harlots playbook and screwed your way to the top."

Eddie tears up at you. "Y/N, I'm sor..."

"Shhhh." You place your finger over his mouth. "Don't you dare apologize to me. In this business, you can't apologize. They eat you alive." You wipe Eddie's tears away.

"I take it. You became partner at the firm?" You ask.

"I did." Eddie says.

"Congratulations. I know how hard you worked for this, partner."

You kiss his forehead and walk away to the door, grabbing your clutch off the dresser. Your plane ticket is in there, and you have enough money to get you wherever you need to go. You head to the elevator.

"Y/N, wait. Where are you going?" Eddie runs behind you.

"Edward. Don't worry about me. I know my way home. Go be happy and enjoy the spoils of your hard work. You earned it."

The elevator opens, and you step inside the car.

"Bye, Edward." You say as the doors close between you two.

Where are you going now? Tears stream down your cheeks as you think about what you just witnessed. You are glad you didn't give Eddie your heart. You learned your lesson the first time around.

You start to question yourself. What's wrong with you? What is it about you that makes people treat you less than you deserve. What evil could you have possibly done? Do you even deserve to live? Then it hits you. The place you need to go.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ💋✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ

Meanwhile, upstairs at the penthouse...

Elvis practically mopes into the suite with you heavy on his mind.

"Elvis, darling, where have you been?" Laura asked.

Elvis, shocked, looks up at Laura. This early in the morning, Laura is still fast asleep.

"I huh... I was talking to a friend about an issue." Elvis stuttered out. "We worked it."

Elvis sits on the bed next to Laura. He looks into her eyes and touches her face. She's beautiful and young, yet Elvis wonders what exactly is it about her that draws him to Laura. She hangs on his every word and barely as a thought of her own. She's sweet, but she's a suck up.

Elvis prides himself on reading people, and as he reads Laura at this moment, he doesn't like what he sees. Since you left him in 1960, Elvis had several girlfriends. Great girlfriends, in fact. They had good hearts and great intentions, but they weren't you. And Laura, isn't you. Laura isn't even June or Anita. They loved him for him, the money wasn't even a thing to them.

Elvis could go back driving a truck, and they would still be by his side. You would have been by his side. Now, your words ring true. Money was all Laura was after. A part of Elvis didn't care, but a huge part cared deeply. The part that didn't care just wanted someone to love him and hold him in the lonely moments. The part that cared was telling him that there was a woman who would love him fully. Like you.

"Elvis, what is it?" Laura asked, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Elvis smiles and shakes his head. What Elvis is doing at this moment is searching your soul. He sees a greedy little girl who is a bit selfish and deceiving. This little girl hides behind her good looks.

"Nothin', baby."

Elvis kisses her lips, trying to feel something. Something good and wholesome. Someone kind and loving and fun, but what Elvis is searching for is not there. What he wants is you. He was searching for that brief kiss you gave him for old time sake, but it wasn't there with Laura.

Elvis leans his forehead against Laura's forehead and wishes you stayed with him.

"Wow, Elvis. You have never kissed me like that before. Darling, what's got into you?" Laura asked.

"My heart." Elvis whispers.

"What? What about your heart? Are you okay?"

"Laura, why do you love me?" Elvis asked on the serious note.

"What do you mean, Elvis? I love you for everything you do for me. I love how fun you are. How we travel all over the place is fun. Your deep voice. Elvis, you are everything." Laura finished up.

Elvis smiles and shakes his head. Everything Laura said has to do with the money in his bank account. In order to give her gifts, Elvis has to have money to do that. In order to travel, you need money. Laura was truly superficial.

"Laura, baby, you are an individual." Elvis finally said, laying down in the bed.

"Thank you, Elvis. I guess that's a compliment." Laura says, getting out of bed.

She goes into the bathroom and turns on the faucet.

"Elvis, darling, you know what I was thinking?" She shouts out.

"No, baby. What were you thinking?" Elvis asks.

"I was thinking when we get married. That we go to New York City and go shopping on Fifth Avenue. I know how much you love to shop. Almost as much as me." Laura says.

Elvis never ever truly asked Laura to marry him. He never had the intention of doing so. He sits up in the bed as she speaks. Is she insinuating that she wants to marry him? Putting in the universe so he will push himself to marry her so she can leach off him?

"Baby! You can take me to Paris!" Laura shouts, her voice filled with excitement. "We can see the Eiffel Tower, eat buttery croissants, and more shopping."

"Laura..." Elvis pops up behind Laura, scaring her.

"Whoa... baby, when did you come in here? I didn't hear the door."

"There's not going to be no Paris, Laura." Elvis says, looking her in the eyes.

"That's fine, Elvis. We don't need Paris. We can go to the Caribbean or Mexico." Laura says, placing her arms around his neck.

Elvis pulls her arms away.

"No, Laura. Baby, there ain't gonna be no Mexico. No Caribbean. No shopping in New York. No marriage between us." Elvis speaks, and he sees the color leave her face.

"Elvis, where is this coming from? I thought you loved me?" She speaks with tears wailing in her eyes, and her bottom lip trimbles.

"Stop. Crying is beneath you, Laura." Elvis looks her over and sees her trying to manipulate the situation. How long has she been playing that game? How long has he been falling for?

"Laura, I can't do this anymore." Elvis finally says, dropping her hands.

"Do what? Us?" Laura asked. "What did I do wrong?"

"Not what you did? It's what I need to do. I need to be on my own for a while, and I believe that you'll be better off on your own."

"But Elvis, I..."

Elvis puts up his hand, stopping Laura from speaking.

"I'll get you a plane ticket for Memphis and New York. You get all your stuff out of the house. One of the boys will see to it that everything that's yours is gone. They'll drop you off in New York. You should go home. I know how much you miss it. That's why you keep talking about it."

Laura is at a loss for words. Did Elvis really just dump her? All her dreams were crashing down around her.

"This is all so sudden. You really don't want me anymore? What is it? We have a good thing here, Elvis. Why are you asking me to leave?" Laura asked. Her tome is frustrated.

"I told you. I need to be on my own." Elvis says, walking out the bathroom.

"I don't except that!" Laura shouts.

"Baby, you don't have a choice."

At that moment, Red and Lamar came into the suite.

"What are they doing here?" Laura asked.

"The boys are taking back to Memphis to get your things. Then they'll drop you off in New York." Elvis says. Elvis gives Red an envelope with her plane tickets, some cash, and instructions for Red to give Laura the money in New York.

"Elvis, you can't be serious!"

"Laura, don't. Just don't. Let things end the way they are. You're a little girl who has some more things to learn."

Laura stormed to the closet and got her things, but not silently. She spoke the most hurtful and ugliest things that she could conjure up to hurt Elvis.

"You're right!" Laura shouts. "You aren't shit Presley! You're no king. You can't even sing all that well!"

"Keep talkin' your shit as you walk your ass out the door." Elvis said, lounging on the bed.

Laura got dressed, got her bags, and headed for the door. Red walking behind her, and Lamar in front. The look on Laura's face read disgust and fury.

"Have a good life, Laura." Elvis spoke honestly.

"Fuck you, Presley. I hate you!" Laura screams.

"Not the first time I heard that one tonight." Elvis says. "Red?"

"Yeah, E.P.?"

"Remember, her package label. Caution: handle with care, man."

Red nodded his head and shut the door. Elvis took a deep breath and exhaled. Elvis was praying for peace and sleep. He prayed he did the right thing, letting Laura go. Letting you go. The more he prayed, the more sleepy he got. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ💋✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ

Six hours later...

Elvis slept from the five o'clock hour to the nine o'clock hour. The next two hours, Elvis and the rest of his entourage parked up camp and set sights to go to Memphis. After a triumph six weeks, Elvis was ready for Graceland. He was ready to see Dodger and spend time with her. I was ready for home cooking. He was ready.

As Elvis, Jerry, and Joe were walking to the garage, Elvis looked around the lobby. Looking to see if you were around. He just wanted one more look at you, even if it meant you were arm and arm with that damn Eddie.

He didn't see you, but who did see shook him up. Eddie. Kissing a girl who clearly was not you. A blonde? Who the hell is she? Where were you?

Elvis stormed across the lobby, grabbed Eddie, and laid him out. The blonde screamed as Elvis continued to shake him, holding Eddie by the collar of his suit. The Mafia tried to get Elvis off of Eddie.

"What did you do you, son of a bitch? Where is Y/N?" Elvis asked Eddie.

"Presley, get off me, and I'll tell you." Eddie choked out.

Elvis released him. Eddie got up off the floor, Jacqueline brushing off his suit.

"Gentlemen?"Jerry steps in. "Maybe we should take this elsewhere? Out of the lobby."

Elvis nodded his head, and everyone is escorted out of the lobby and downstairs to the garage. Where Elvis' caravan of limos lie waiting.

"What happened to Y/N?" Elvis asks.

"She... left me. I-I-I haven't seen her since she left."

"Let me guess... she caught you with the blonde?"

Eddie nods his head. Shame covering his face.

"Yeah. She has a nag for that." Elvis chuckles. "Where did she go?"

"I don't know, man. She just took her purse and said she knew her way home." Eddie said. "I never meant to hurt her. I loved her."

Loved? Eddie speaks about his feelings for you in past tense. How could he? Elvis didn't have time to talk about it.

"Eddie, you fucked up with a great woman. Don't fuck up with the blonde."

Elvis starts to run upstairs.

"E.P., where are you going?!" Jerry shouted.

"I'm gonna look for Y/N!" Elvis shouts back. The elevator doors closing.

Elvis runs up to room 202. He looks around the room. He calls out to you, but you don't answer him. He's afraid something may happen to you, and he wasn't there to protect you. Why didn't you just stay with him?

Elvis leaves the room and starts to pray silently.

"Dear God, be with Y/N. The woman I love the most. Help me find her. God, if you help me find her. I will do right by her. I'll let her make an honest man out of me." Elvis concludes his prayers as the elevator doors.

Elvis doesn't want to go back without you. He passes by the pool side on his way to the garage and spots a beautiful girl with her feet in the pool.

A sign of relief passes through Elvis at the sight of this beautiful girl. Thank the Lord, it's you.

"Y/N?" He calls out to you. "Y/N?"

You look over and see Elvis running over to you. Elvis gets down and embraces you.

"Y/N, baby, where have been?" Elvis says, so overwhelmed that he has let you go.

"I needed some air, E."

"Baby, I'm sorry about... Eddie."

You pull away from Elvis, looking him in the eye. How could he possibly know? Was your shame spread around the hotel?

You look back at the water and cry. "I'm... I'm so lonely. Elvis, what's wrong with me? Why do men use me and leave me?" Y/N cry out.

"I made a mistake." Elvis says. "So long ago. Y/N, baby, there's not a damn thing wrong with you. You're magnificent. You're beautiful and strong. And I love you so much."

You look at Elvis, taken aback by his kind words. A tear falls down your cheek. Elvis wipes it away and traces your jaw with his index finger.

"Y/N, will you come with me?" Elvis asks.

You nod your head, smiling at his request. Elvis stands, offering his hand to you. You take it and get your feet out of the pool. Elvis sit you down on one of the lounge chairs, drying off your wet feet. Thank heavens, no one is there at the pool except you two. He places your heels on your feet and leads you away from the pool.

Elvis leads you to the elevator that takes you both to the garage. You're both silent for the duration of the ride. You just hold on to Elvis. You're in such a need for affection. You need to know that you are worthy of love. A hug will do for now.

The door opens, and you both are in the garage. You silently walk to his limo, and he opens the door for you. You come to your senses, stopping yourself from entering the limo.

"Wait. Where are you taking me?" You ask.

"Home. To Memphis." Elvis answers.

"To Memphis." You are truly alert now.

Elvis opens the door and offers to get in first, but you slam the door shut.

"One moment, Elvis. We must discuss a few things before I get into this car and go anywhere with you." You state, crossing your arms.

"Okay, Y/N. Whatever you want. I'll give it to you." Elvis says, honesty graces his voice.

"First, if we into a relationship again. You can only be with me and me alone."

"I can do that."

"So help me, E. If you break my heart again, you'll never ever hear from me again. I'll disappear off the face of the Earth. I swear."

"I won't let you, baby." Elvis says. "I'm gonna love you so good that you'll never leave me."

"You better, Elvis Presley."

"Shall we go home?" Elvis opens the door for you.

You get in the limo and watch as he slides in after you. He shuts the door behind him. Elvis gives you that infamous crook smile as the car drives off. You wrap your arms around him and kiss those precious lips of his. Elvis kisses you back with vigor and much passion. You slowly pull away from him.

"What happened to Laura?" You ask.

"She had one problem, baby."

"What?"

"She wasn't you, my love." Elvis says.

You smile and kiss him once more. In your heart, you feel like this is love. This is right. All you ever needed or wanted.

"I love you, Elvis."

"I love you, Y/N."

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @plasticfantasticl0ver @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @thememphisflash1935-1977 @vintageshanny @iloveelvis

[mazarin01]

Writing Tag Game!

I was tagged by @lokkanel <3 Thank you so much! 

Tagging: @hakkepippern @anaisanais-stuff @alwaysandeverfics (no pressure at all to join)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

49 fics and a few drabbles. 

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

962056

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Kanskje du behøver noen (det gjør i hvert fall jeg) (Rated T, 200K)

Summary:Isak (29) eier en liten nærbutikk (arvet av sin morfar), lokalisert i et lite tettsted 20 minutter sør for Kristiansand.

Even (31) har nettopp forlatt et turbulent liv i Oslo og flyttet inn et lite hus i nærheten av der Isak jobber og bor. Et hus han har arvet etter en ukjent grandtante.

En sommerkveld møtes de....

En sang fra den andre siden (Rated M, 222K)

Isak (16) har erkjent for seg selv at han liker gutter, men det er ingen som vet om akkurat det. Even (18), ny på Nissen, er åpent panseksuell og bipolar. Isak oppdager Even og forelsker seg umiddelbart. En brutal situasjon fører til deres første møte. På fest like etterpå kysser de for første gang og reisen ut av skapet har startet for Isak - heldigvis med Even ved sin side.

The Way You Look At Me (Rated E, 12,2K)

“I wouldn’t fuck with you,” Isak replies in all earnesty. “I’d fuck you though.” The words unintentionally leaves his mouth and the world's fastest blush emerge, covering his entire face.

“What?” Even sounds seriously surprised. His hand is still on Isak’s knee and his hand feels just as heavy.

“Eh- did I say that out loud?” Isak says with a voice barely audible.

“You did,” Even replies, voice equally low.

Isak (23) hooks up with Even (25) at a party where they both are forced to be at.

A hook up with a twist ;-)

Blond Elvis (Rated M, 71,2K)

“I need him in my life,” Isak stated.

“Who? That guy?” Jonas asked.

“Yes! Did you see his eyes?” A sigh escaped Isak’s mouth as he stared in the direction of Even, who now had walked over to some guy smoking. “And those cheekbones. And the hair.”

“We’ve already commented on the fluffy hair.” Jonas chuckled.

“He’s like a blond Elvis.”

------

A story about Isak and Even, set in Oslo / Hartvig Nissen, where they find each other and rescue each other.

Bak hver gråtende sky skinner sola (Rated M, 29,6K)

Møt Isak 19 år. En angstfylt gutt (sliter med small-talk, stamming, angstanfall og ofte føler seg sosialt utilpass blant folk han ikke kjenner så godt) som kom ut som homofil for et halvt år siden.

Isak har nettopp flyttet til Bergen for å studere biologi, skal bo på hybelhus med tre andre og dele bad med en gutt...

Følg Isaks første uke (ish) i Bergen.

4. Do you respond to comments?

Yes.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t write angsty endings. 

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

All my fics have a happy ending. EVAK is always endgame in my fics. 

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Nope.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, but not that often. I have a hard time writing it. It’s like one sentence per 15 minutes or so. Haha. But there is a few E rated smut fics and some fics with a little smut inside. 

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. 

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. 

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope.

13. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

My only WIP on AO3: Boys of Summer would be nice to finish. 

15. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have no skill in limiting myself wordwise. I use too many words to say something that surely can be said with a lot fewer words. 

16. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I prefer the dialogue to be in the same language as the rest of the fic. 

17. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

SKAM (first and only)

18. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

1989

Året er 1989 og det er fredag kveld. Even (17 år) skal ringe Isak (15 år) og spørre om han vil se på film med han. Det er bare et problem, fasttelefonen har plutselig ingen summetone…

[ussgallifrey]

UssGallifrey's Decades Challenge

So... I don't know where this spike in followers came from and I'm honestly blown away by it all! Heck, I haven't even had my last milestone challenge reach it's due date yet. But this is a big number and I couldn't help myself, so I made a little writing challenge to celebrate. Thank you to each and every one of you who has decided to follow my blog 💙

The Details:

The due date is: July 14, 2020 (My Birthday!)

The tag: #gallifreys700

The Rules:

You don't have to be following me, but hey, I'd love to have you! 

2 prompts per person and 2 people per prompt!

Use the prompt however you see fit. Whether you include the quote/lyrics in your story is entirely up to you. Get creative with them!

I have the prompts divided into decades but your story does not have to take place in that specific time period. Like I said, get creative!

Tag your warnings appropriately. That includes things like smut.

Any Marvel characters and pairings are welcome.

No dub/non-con, underage smut, or incest of any kind.

Make it as long or short as you want. Oneshots, series, I wanna see 'em all!

But on that note, please make use of the "Keep Reading" feature.

Send an ask for whatever prompt you want.

And make sure to tag me when you post your story!

Prompts below the tag:

《The Thirties》

• Quotes •

➳ "But it had been a wonderful day, the most wonderful day in her whole life." - Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little House in the Big Woods

➳ "Do one thing every day that scares you." - Eleanor Roosevelt || @tellmealovestory​ w/Bucky

➳ "You should be kissed and by someone who knows how." - Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind || @jbbuckybarnes​

• Songs •

➳ I'm In The Mood For Love - Louis Armstrong 

➳ I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm - Billie Holiday || @indyluckycharlie​

➳ The Way You Look Tonight - Fred Astaire

《The Forties》

• Quotes •

➳ "I have seen war… I hate war." - Franklin D. Roosevelt. || @crushedbyhyperbole​

➳ "I loved you when I saw you today and I loved you always but I never saw you before." - Ernest Hemingway, For Whom The Bell Tolls

➳ "With the whole world crumbling, we picked this time to fall in love." - Casablanca || @queens-n-roses​ w/Bucky

• Songs •

➳ Besame Mucho - Jimmy Dorsey

➳ Surrender - Perry Como

➳ You'll Never Know - Vera Lynn || @whistlingwillows​ w/Bucky

《The Fifties》

• Quotes •

➳ "I don't know how to say goodbye. I can't think of any words." - Roman Holiday || @elatedmarvel​ w/Bucky & @writeroutoftime​ w/Peter Parker

➳ "Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories." - An Affair to Remember

➳ "You and I, it's as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to earth together, to see if we know what we were taught." - Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago

• Songs •

➳ All Shook Up - Elvis Presley || @sebbbystaaan​ w/Bucky

➳ Sh-Boom - The Chords

➳ The World Is Waiting for the Sunrise - Les Paul & Mary Ford

《The Sixties》

• Quotes •

➳ "Maybe the two worlds we lived in weren't so different. We both saw the same sunset." S.E. Hinton, The Outsiders || @jbbarnesnnoble​ & @wintersoeldiers​

➳ "Sometimes what you're looking for is already there." - Aretha Franklin || @lovingbuckyb​

➳ "Well, you can't marry someone when you're in love with someone else, can you?" - The Sound of Music || @fichoe21 & @xbuchananbarnes​

• Songs •

➳ My Girl - The Temptations || @jbbuckybarnes​

➳ Save The Last Dance For Me - The Drifters

➳ Someday We'll Be Together - Diana Ross & The Supremes

《The Seventies》

• Quotes •

➳ "And suddenly, she longed for a thunderstorm." - Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting || @indyluckycharlie​ & @asqcrd​ w/Bucky

➳ "I look like an angel, but I'm not." - Anne Rice, Interview with the Vampire || @s-trawberryv-eins​ w/Wanda

➳ "You're the most beautiful, exciting thing I've ever seen in my life and I don't know anything about you." - American Graffiti || @hey-its-grey​

• Songs •

➳ Heroes - David Bowie || @softbiker​ w/Bucky

➳ Oh Girl - The Chi-Lites

➳ Rock Me Gently - Andy Kim || @idjitmonkey​ w/Bucky

Tagging people who may be interested:

@jaamesbbarnes | @jbbuckybarnes | @suz-123​ | @kentuckybarnes​ | @renxzs​ | @elatedmarvel​ | @softhairbarnes​ | @sebbbystaaan​

[be-my-ally]

The Morning After

I’ve been neck deep in smut and I wanted a short little break, I also was on such a roll with some other things (anons in my inbox - what you want is coming soon I promise) so this is a super short sweet one. A follow on/tidying up the morning after from ‘Do You Mind?’

For the prompt “Are you always this shy?”

warnings: none? I don’t think there’s any anyway - lmk if I’m wrong! oh wait. the tiniest reference to 'leading you on' which is obvs not ok. but makes sense in context.

wc: 1.1k - honestly, I'm just happy there's some words on the page.

as always!! thanks for the support + encouragement @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis

The next morning you wake up with Elvis still clutching at your waist, your head pillowed in the crook of his neck. You blink rapidly into his shoulder, trying to assess the situation. It’s unnerving, that you don’t feel more unnerved - you feel unmoored, uncertain of the day and what it has planned, unsure of how to navigate the situation you’ve found yourself in but ultimately, tucked in Elvis’ arms - you feel safe. Calm even. As you’re letting your mind wander his arm tightens around you, his hand squeezing your hip - you’re suddenly very aware that through the night his too-large-for-you shirt has risen up, leaving your lower half exposed in just your underwear. You wriggle, trying to tug it back down to a more respectable length but pause as his chest rumbles. He does a strange little half-cough, voice remarkably low and growly on the top of your head, 

“Are you always this shy?” You lean back a little to glance up at him, taking in the shadow on his chin and cheeks, barely resisting the urge to run your fingers over it. You’ve never even seen a photo of him with stubble. His eyes are still tightly closed, like he’s hopeful he might not actually have to wake up right now. 

“I’m not shy! I’m just - you’re practically a stranger.” You’re indignant on this point, not wanting him to think you were uncool and inexperienced or a massive prude. His fingers stroke your hip, absentmindedly, as if he has no idea he’s even doing it. He hums back at you, 

“Mmhmm, just a stranger, baby, that’s me.” You can hear the smile in his voice, see it lifting the corners of his mouth. He ducks his head lower, eyes blinking open - you’re taken aback at the blue of them in the hazy morning light, your throat dry with the sudden desire. “Just a stranger.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, gently, and you feel your face flush at the intimacy of the gesture. He pauses momentarily, before pulling his hand away and up to your neck, brushing up the side of your body to cup your face. He bends to press his lips against yours, jumping back like he’s been burnt when you jump in surprise and leap out of the bed. 

He laughs, his head falling back on the pillow as you stand there. “Lord. Normally the girls are desperate to get into my bed, not out-ta it.” You feel awkward, and embarrassed - you hadn’t even really wanted to jump out it was just instinct, it had just happened. His laugh though is infectious, and you find yourself giggling a little too. 

“I wasn’t - I didn’t mean to, I didn’t wanna get up!”  He smiles, eyes crinkling as he leans forward, his hair flopping over his eyebrows, looking like he’d been dragged through something backwards. You know he’s had plenty of women but as you look at him lounging in the bed so casual and carefree you have to wonder how many others he’s allowed to witness him like this. You pull his sleeves down over your hands, shuffling your feet, feeling further embarrassment at the strength of the affection you feel for him at just that thought. “Sorry - I didn’t -“ 

“No, No, I’m sorry - I should’ve checked you were - I shouldn’t have assumed.” You stare back at him as his tone turns serious, breaking eye contact with you to look to the side. 

“I was in your bed. I think it was a pretty safe assumption.” 

“Still I should’ve checked first.” You roll your eyes, slightly annoyed that your rash action was being taken so seriously - 

“Honestly, it’s my fault El, I just panicked for a second. I’m not - not ready to do anything much more than kiss at the moment, didn’t wanna give you the wrong impression. Lead you on.” You walk back over to the bed, his expression turns earnest as he pats the space next to him. 

“I ain’t gonna do nothing but kiss doll, swear it - haven’t got, motor ain’t running yet.” He pauses, as if hearing how that sounds, “Not that - I mean, I’d definitely wait for you to ask for that.” He grins, a mischievous expression coming over his face, curling his lip, “Beg for it.” You roll your eyes, 

“In your dreams.” You expect him to laugh, but he nods instead as if agreeing. You rapidly change the subject before he can say anything, lying back down next to him, “Right then. Kiss me.” This time he lets out another shocked laugh, shaking his head as he rolls over to lean on top of you.

“ ’S not a chore doll, is it? You could sound a lil more ‘nthusiastic!” You laugh, reaching up with a hand to cup his face, thumb brushing over his high cheekbone, the creases by his eye. 

“Kiss me and you’ll see how enthusiastic I can be.” You’re not sure where this confidence has come from, but you know you love the look in his eyes when he thinks you’re funny. He presses his lips to the corner of your mouth and you giggle as he completely misses, ending half on your cheek. He mumbles against your skin, 

“Stay still baby,” He moves to slot your mouths together properly and you immediately surge forward, hungry for it, desperate for it - despite your earlier reservations. You didn’t even think about the possibility of morning breath and you don’t now - opening your mouth, inviting him in. His teeth are catching on your lips nibbling on them and it feels unparalleled to any sensation you’ve ever experienced before. The softness of his famous pout, mixed with the gently harsh stubble on his cheeks, and the tug of his teeth on your soft skin. You pull away, 

“God - Elvis, you gotta, need you to,” You reach for his hand, pulling it to land on your stomach, He looks slightly shocked at your clear desire to have him effectively pin you down. 

“That ok?” You nod frantically, 

“Good god, yes, just, just keep going,” He rubs his fingers in a little circle, just barely tickling before he presses it palm down, resting on you. It’s heat seems to amplify everything you’re feeling - down to the little jolts of arousal when he tugs your lip just right.

 You have no idea if you’re making a noise, no idea if you’re even breathing. All you can feel, see, taste, hear is him. Finally his tongue slips in, you don’t fight him letting him straight in, do what he likes. You suddenly hear yourself the little moans and breathy grunts that you’re letting out when he pulls back enough to let them escape, and you gasp as he presses little wet open-mouthed kisses against your cheek. You’re lost to everything but the feel of him, heat thrumming through you as he captures your lips in his again.

He pulls back and you’re in a daze, unable to do anything but lie there and try to catch your breath, hoping to be left there for eternity. 

[be-my-ally]

Vegas Calling

very short, very sweet but has gotten me out of my writing slump so success! spoiler alert: the plot is heavily inspired by linda’s tale of elvis telling her he’s bought her a unique ring, and then giving it to sheila and buying her a boring tennis bracelet and pretending that was always the intended gift.  but uhhh because this is my fic, and reader is totally, completely, absolutely not based on me, it’s a happier ending.

Loosely based on this prompt: “You will love it” “I will hate it” “Nah, you won’t.” warning: this is unedited.

Reader x elvis 1975 (takes place during the march/april vegas engagement)

wc: 2.4k of a single phone call. let me know if you want a follow-up of reader in vegas!!

@whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @missmaywemeetagain @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 (on this note - I never know who to tag in these little one-shots so let me know if you want to be tagged in future!)

It had been a long ten days already, Elvis had left you behind, asking that you just “let [him] get all settled in, hon, then you can come on out and cheer me up.” You didn’t question it - or question the kind of settling he was expecting would be required. It had been a mere six months since his last residency, and by now it was a pretty smoothly run operation. But then, you were both well aware of what he really meant when he asked someone - or really, you specifically -to not come out to Vegas. It likely meant he’d already requested some sparkly  little two week wonder to join him. But, you knew his schedule better than everyone, and you knew full well that at the moment he didn’t really have time to be messing about with anyone else, or at least, not in any meaningful way. From what he’d been saying he’d been embroiled in rehearsals for the first few days - time he now claims, fed-up, that was wasted - busy even before the twisted schedule of his show routine started. All in all it meant he’d barely had time to chat, and you were desperate for his call tonight when he’d promised he’d have more of a chance to talk - but more of a chance didn’t mean any earlier, after-all he still had to get through two shows before he could relax and the two hour time difference between Vegas and Graceland felt a lot longer at 2 and 4am respectively. 

The phone rings insistently, and you blearily rush to pick it up, unsure how long it had been ringing for while you woke up and panicked that he may hang up if you didn’t get to it fast enough. He’d not been very happy two days earlier when you’d missed his call - his mood swinging from annoyance into being downright teary the following day. You were sure that some other source had been to blame for the extreme emotion, although part of you had hoped it was simply how much he’d loved you, and while you hoped it never got back to him you’d been worried enough about him that you’d called Joe directly to ask him to check in. 

“Hullo Elvis baby,” You breathed down the line, still blinking awake. He breathes a little laugh back at you, fondly, 

“Hey sweetheart,” He pauses, “That how you always answer the phone?” You’re still not fully awake and you can’t think of anything clever to say in response so you have to settle for a simple, 

“Maybe…but… I knew it was you.” 

“Better have - You haven’t been givin’ out my special number have you?” It was indeed, very special, his own little hotline straight to you. 

“No!” you laugh down the phone, 

“Better not - or you’ll be in trou-ble,” he sing-songs it down the line and you giggle back at him, 

“I swear! Hey - how’d the shows go tonight?” He pauses, and you can hear the sound of others in the background, 

“Oh you know. Same as always, nothing to write home about.” He’s never particularly talkative about these shows - not like he can be on tour, but he normally has some funny anecdote about a woman climbing the tables, or a lyric fudged, or even a joke one of the boys made - he’s not normally totally reluctant to share. 

“No?” He doesn’t seem to hear you - distracted, talking to someone else, and you can hear a tittering giggle accompany Joe’s characteristic cackling laugh while you wait for his attention back. You try not to assess it too much or spend any time deliberating who’s wife or girlfriend that might be. You know the others pretend not to know, Joan and Pat and Judy and all the others  all turning a blind eye to their own  husbands’ many indiscretions and pretending to each other there’s nothing to know. But…Elvis could never keep a secret, and you were more looped into the gossip than any of them probably knew - it made it a tad tricky when you had to pretend to the other steady wives and girlfriends, and you had been so proud of being a girls-girl, the type that wouldn’t have put up with hiding this kinda thing before Elvis - but, ultimately, you didn’t believe any of them truly had no idea - or that they weren’t willingly pretending.  And more than anything the potential to be lying in bed, curled up on Elvis’ chest, giggling and gossiping  about the ins & outs of the mafia’s relationships was worth more to you than being friends with any of them. None of this made you feel any better about being confronted with the possibility of Elvis distracted by a different girl. 

“Elvis?” You question again, 

“Uh-huh?” Still distracted,  you don’t know what to say other than, 

“Is now a bad time?” 

“Naw, now  why would you think that?” He sounds a little annoyed, short with you, although at least you now have his full attention. 

“No -no,  no reason. Just wanted to check you could talk.” 

“Wouldn’t have called otherwise, would I?” It feels a little like he’s riling you up, and you can’t tell if it's your sleepy state that makes you quick to annoy or if he really is intentionally trying to be a little mean. 

“Of course not,” You rapidly try to change the subject, “I really miss you.” You weren’t trying to manipulate him, but you can’t pretend it doesn’t please you when you can hear him call out in the background; 

“Go on, yeah, no - no, all of you -go on,  clear on out! I’ll be fine, go on.” You can hear the sounds of the guys all rapidly leaving, and then, finally, there’s a momentary lapse before Elvis picks up his bedroom phone, you can hear him breathe down the line, and a little grunt as you hear the bedcovers rustle about. 

“Go on then yittle, tell me that again,” You squirm under your own covers, his voice just low and deep and rough enough to make your stomach flip. 

“I - I miss you Elvis, I really do, I-I-I  can’t stop thinking about you.” 

“Do ya?” 

“Uh-huh, I do,” There’s not much point now to try and play it cool but still you give it a go, lasting all of five seconds before gushing, “I can’t wait to come out there. I’ve been thinking about it all week, can’t wait to see you again.”

“Oh, ba-by, I can’t wait to have you out here either…” You can hear the smile in his voice, “What do you think about -  when you’re thinking about me?” 

“Oh god,” You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, even though you know it’s just the two of you,

“Go on, honey, you can tell me.” He has to know what he’s doing, emphasizing his accent and tone. 

“Oh Elvis” You hate how breathy and girlish you already sound, but from his fond chuckle he’s agreeable to it and that makes you feel confident enough to keep talking, “Everything, oh, just everything - there’s, there’s just so much to think about…” 

“Well if you hadta pick?” He’s teasing you, but you can hear the affectionate tone in it - he’s digging for compliments more than anything. 

“Oh well, if I had to, I guess… I mean, maybe sometimes I might think about your voice…”

“My voice?” He intentionally lowers it, “You like my voice baby?” and you giggle, fidgeting one foot against the other, rolling the sheets between them. 

“Yeah-huh, your voice, and your…” You try not to be too shy, “your, well, I guess your face,” Elvis laughs, slightly taken aback at the pronouncement.  

“My face?” You can still hear the smile in his voice, and you decide to do the best to make him laugh again. 

“Yeah your cute little face, and, and your cute little butt.” He roars with laughter, 

“Ain’t so little ‘ccording to the reviews.” It’s the kind of comment he means light-heartedly, but one that could turn the conversation dire if you don’t have quite the correct response - and it's a lot harder to reassure him that you like every part of him when you can’t touch and show him just how much. You keep the conversation joking, hoping he’ll laugh it off. 

“Notice you don’t protest the cute.” 

“Well now, honey, I ain’t a liar.” You can hear him shake his head and despite the fact that you’re alone in the room you bury your grin into your pillow, “I miss you too darling girl,” and then almost shyly, “I got you a present today.” 

“A present?” You peek out from the pillow, twisting the cord around your finger, “What kind of present?” 

“You’ll love it, I promise, doll, it’s just gorgeous - it’s the most unique lookin’ ring I’ve ever seen. Got a huge ol’ red stone right there, next to some diamonds - but all twisted and natural like - it looks totally, totally, organic.” 

You feel your tummy flip, he’d promised you similar things before that had never materialized - given away perhaps before you made it to his door, and you’ve not been seeing him long - only a couple of months, and it sounds expensive - probably too expensive. 

“Oh - oh Elvis, it sounds lovely, but that’s, that’s too much - I’ll, I’ll hate it - having to worry about wearin’ it and all that…I’ve never, never had diamonds before and you’ve already given me those earrings - and, and my necklace - I’d hate having to worry about them on my fingers.” 

“Nah you won’t darling, just trust me - it’s lovely - it’ll look lovely on your little soft hands, you’ve got them softest hands I’ve ever felt.” You were about to protest more, but his voice had dipped down, imploring you to listen. 

“Do I?” 

“Uh-huh, lil soft hands that deserve to be treated.” 

“It's just, it’s just a lot E - I really don’t think -” 

“Look why don’t you just wait and see when it gets delivered tomorrow - you’ll be here by then won’t you? You can tell me then.” He’s trying to change the subject, but you still feel guilty, and you just need him to know that you like him for more than just his excessive gifts. 

“Well, ok, but you didn’t have-” Elvis growls, cutting you off, tone sharpening as he speaks. 

“I aint gotta do a damn thing, I’ve not got a gun to my head - if I wanna buy you a thousand rings I will.” You squirm, while you feel uncomfortable at the concept of the sheer dollar amount he’s suggesting he’d spend on you, you can’t deny the little thrill it gives you. “Think I’ve earnt the right to treat whoever I like to whatever I goddamn want.” 

“Of course, I was-“ You try to backtrack. 

“Good, because I picked it out special - couldn’t wait to give it to ya, wanted to give it to my sweet yittle grateful babydoll  - not have to listen to you bitch and moan ‘bout it.” 

“I’m not Elvis…I swear - it sounds,” you give in, sighing “It sounds lovely, I can’t wait.” 

“Uh-huh.” He huffs, 

“I mean it, I promise.”

“Well…you’ll see it tomorrow. I’ll give it to you then…” 

“I really can’t wait… I can’t wait to see it, and I can’t wait to see you - It’s been so hard.” He sighs, 

“I know darling, I shouldn’t have left you behind, all on your own. Wasn’t - it wasn’t fair on you.” He pauses, “You know there wasn’t one damn reason why you couldn’t have come with me.” 

“Oh.” That was a surprise to hear, and you weren’t one hundred percent convinced of the honesty of the statement.  “You don’t, - you don’t have to lie to me, if, if your plans fell through - it’s, it’s okay, I promise.”

“No sweetheart, you’re not listening, don’t,” You can picture him shaking his head, “ don’t make it to be something else - I never made any other plans.” 

“Oh, well, I - next time I’ll come with you right away.” 

“I’d like that.” It’s abrupt and gruff, and you can tell he means it - probably more than he means the babytalk or the gifts. He yawns and you can practically hear his jaw through the phone, reminding you it's late for him, and later for you, although at least you’d had some sleep before the call. 

“Elvis…do you…is there anything you miss about me?” 

“Miss about you?” He questions again, and you can hear him shift lower down the sheets, picturing himself settling against the pillows, phone tucked into the crook of his shoulder. 

“Uh-huh?” 

“Well, well, that’s easy, honey, I-I,” His voice is slowing, and you wonder at what point in the call he took his sleep aid. “I - miss, miss everything about you.” You consider if it’s ridiculous to feel disappointed he doesn’t bother to specify further. 

“Everything?” He snuffles, heavy breathing traveling down the line. “Elvis - everything?” You can tell the question practically wakes him up, 

“Miss, miss your cute little lips, and, and your - god, honey, I miss your, miss your hair.” 

“My hair?!” You can’t help the little screech and Elvis  breathes a little laugh back at you, 

“That’s right, baby, - your hair, I love your hair, it’s just,” He breathes, “It’s just perfect.” You laugh, he must be thinking of his other girlfriend who doesn’t have your wild frizzy mess. 

“Anything else?” 

“Well, I-I,  miss your  legs too, honey,” You make an encouraging hum back to him, closing your own eyes in response to his further slowing speech. “Miss getting to watch you leave a room, you’re so, god you’re so, so pretty baby, miss you so much darling.”  Your thighs squeeze of their own accord, and you know he’s probably too sleepy for it but you figure it’s worth a try. 

“What would you do if I were there? I-I’ll - If, I mean, if you go first, I’ll tell you what I wanna do to you right now.”

 You hope your nerves at your proposition don’t convey over the phone. It doesn’t matter though, since he makes no reply. Tiny snuffling noises straight to your ear. You know it’s wrong to take advantage - since if you’d been footing the bill for it you wouldn’t dream of it but, you also knew he wouldn’t mind - and you’ve missed him beside you so much.  So instead of hanging up you settle the phone against your pillow and  wriggle all the way  down under your covers. Closing your eyes to the sounds of his gentle snoring and sniffs, counting down the hours until you’ll be physically beside him.

[be-my-ally]

Snowballs and Kisses

Hello darlings!! Merry Christmas! I hope everyone celebrating has a wonderful day, and everyone for whom it is a usual monday has a better than usual start to the week!! 

I have been MIA the last few weeks on here, but never fear I have been busy behind the scenes and hopefully more things and fics will be finished very soon!! I cannot wait for my little new year break, and *finally* catching up on all the stuff I've missed!! In the meantime as a ittle teeny tiny Christmas gift please enjoy this timeskip for my Splashing Around ‘verse to Christmas Eve 1960 and my shameless OC self insert of what I’d like to gift Elvis. 

a/n not totally accurate weather references: it didn’t actually snow in memphis in the latter half of 1959 but, this is fanfiction after all and it *was* very cold november 18th 1959. (I also cut a whole 4k of angst that will come out at some point as a separate chapter, Anita getting a poodle, and the colonel dressed as santa because honestly i just wanted to write and read fluff, but here's a warning that there may end up being more festive fics posted…a little late). 

warnings: 18+, smut lite; gentle fingering and references to cumming in pants. UNEDITED

Graceland - December 1960 

The excitement of having Elvis back at home for the festive season was only slightly tempered by the knowledge that it was his first Christmas at home without his mother. He’d not really tried to celebrate properly in Germany; sure they’d done the best they could, and he raved about the gift of a fully dressed tree for weeks,  but it hadn’t been the same as it would have been at home. 

This year though, Elvis seemed determined to restore the festive spirit. Perhaps even further than just restoration - an attempt to make it as bright and jolly as possible in response to both his mother’s passing, and missing the last two. He’d bragged to anyone who would listen about how excited he was to give out presents, his plans for even more lights than ever before; signs and lawn decorations.

While Louise was excited, it had left her in an almost constant state of anxiety, Christmas wasn’t just about the gift-giving… but it was a large enough part of it that it’s where her mind immediately went. From the moment he suggested they hang at Graceland that first year, from the first time they’d all pored over the letter to Frances, and his promises to “have a ball next Christmas”, giggling and whispering about what fun they were going to have the following year. From all of those times Louise had been preoccupied with what to get him and whether her secret plan was good enough for Elvis of all people. 

That first year he had reiterated to them all and was absolutely adamant no-one needed to gift him anything and wouldn’t hear of anything being sent over to him. But his frequent calls and mentions of the upcoming holiday belied his actual feelings and besides, Louise wanted him to feel special. Wanted him to know they’d been thinking of him as much as he must have missed being home. It wasn’t until the 27th of November and the slightest of snowfalls had occurred, tiny little snowflakes, delicately falling down when the temperature had dropped just enough for the rain to crystallise when a flash of inspiration hit her. She couldn’t send it, so instead she’d waited patiently, adding to her bundle throughout the months. Now that it was almost time to give it though she was second-guessing that two year decision. Was it too juvenile? It’s just so tricky to buy for the man who literally has anything he could ever wish for. As the festive period hurtles on she resigns herself to having to hunt for a back-up gift…maybe a nice sweater. Maybe that will do.  Or maybe it’s best to have options. 

Elvis’ melancholia about the holiday doesn’t seem to stretch into Christmas Eve, and he encourages them with all the enthusiasm he’s ever had. The party starts from mid-afternoon and stretches long into the evening and night with all the makings of an excellent time from the music to the food until eventually they all find themselves around the extravagant tree to exchange presents. It’s a little chaotic, so many people about and frequently someone’s having to dive from room to room to fetch people or hidden gifts. Louise finds it almost dizzying when she finally manages to take a seat on the long sofa, catching her breath from being sent to find someone. She was already finding herself struggling to think whenever she glanced over at Elvis - he looked outrageously good in a white shirt, black trousers - well, he looked outrageously good all the time at the moment - but there was something about the feeling in the air of the day that made it all the harder to act natural around him. Elvis had been quiet for a moment, but now he was sat on his armchair across the room, looking for all the world like a king on a throne ready to bestow his generosity on the peasants. Except, that’s not the feeling in the room at all; it’s jolly and wonderful, picture perfect - all of them slightly tipsy on champagne and vodka cocktails and finding the evening all the more entertaining for it. He announces he wants to give the presents that he’s bought everyone before he opens his own, and Louise dips her eyes when he hands her a little bow-tied box. No-one else’s comes with a ribbon and she strokes it, feeling a glow emanating from her stomach and chest as she imagines his nimble fingers tying it on, totally ignoring the fact that she knows someone else probably wrapped it for him. Still, she tugs it off to hide from the others - not wanting to be teased about how such a little gesture has made her blush so strongly - and tucks it into her palm, fully intending on slipping it into her shoe or around her wrist in a moment, knowing she’ll keep it forever - wear it in her hair like a declaration.

When she looks back up everyone has a similar box and she opens it quickly in case they’re all the same - she doesn’t want to ruin her surprise. There, nestled in a little velvet box is a ring, a huge, gaudy red stone in the centre, almost too big for her finger.  Louise is transfixed, staring at it, barely a thought in her head as she tries to wrap her head around the way it sparkles in the light. Despite the size of the gem, the band was more than a little small when she tries to slip it on, and she quietly puts it back into the box, not wanting to draw attention to her apparently larger than expected fingers. She glances around, suddenly coming out of her shocked obliviousness. Her face falling when she realises that everyone around her is unboxing similarly precious jewellery. She’s resigning herself to having to sneak it off to get it resized and hating herself a little for it, wondering if there are exercises she could do or maybe a special diet to shrink her fingers to size, when she suddenly realises all the other girls are turning each-other around, kissing Elvis on the cheek in thanks, or asking him to clasp their new necklaces. Louise looks back down at her box and the others. What does a ring mean? It’s been gifted with such casualness that it can’t possibly mean anything can it? When she looks back up Elvis is staring right at her, and she makes eye contact with him - her wide eyes meeting his laughing ones. He winks, and turns back to Red. She tries her best to distract herself from it, ooh and aahing over everyone else’s and keeping quiet about the little box clutched tight in her hand. 

Half hour later Elvis is admiring his own little haul, when he catches her eye again, 

“You forget about me Lou?” Louise cringes at being called out so publicly, 

“Of course not!” She looks around the room, at the large group gathered there, “No, uh, why don’t you, well I’ve gotten you something else….It’s a sweater. It’s not great really, but I… your real gift I’ve made you, but,” She swallows building her courage, unsure why she’s so nervous suddenly when she’d been so excited for so long; the whole idea just seemed juvenile and silly now. “… you’ve gotta follow me for it.” He stares into her eyes for a second, before nodding and standing up, gesturing at her as if to say ‘lead the way’. 

He grins at the boys when they walk out, making a salacious movement as if to suggest her gift may not be all too family-friendly to accompanying guffaws of laughter. She ignores it, even as her tummy churns; should she be offering that? Is that what he wants these days?

“Don’t laugh.” She asks nervously as they walk into the little pantry. Elvis looks bemused to find himself there, leaning against the wall of the tiny space 

“I won’t” Louise nods, shutting the door, only to hear Elvis giggle, “You tryin’ to get me alone, doll?” 

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“One hell of a christmas present! to be locked in a cupboard with a pretty little gal.” 

She rolls her eyes, wiggling past him to get to the freezer, 

“Close your eyes.” He obediently does so, and she reaches into an old box of ice-cream to pull out a Tupperware, “Hold your hands out.” And she puts it in his cupped fingers, “Ok…open.” He blinks down at the Tupperware.

“Um. Well, thanks, I’m uh, sure this will be useful.” Louise rolls her eyes, impatiently tugging off the lid herself, “Oh.” Elvis goes silent, staring at the three perfect, teeny snowballs balanced in the tub. Each resting upon a little piece of paper with Louise’s very best cursive handwriting spelling out the date; December 12th 1958, 18th November 1959, and 20th December 1960.  

The silence stretches as Elvis stares at the box, and Louise starts to ramble nervously,  “I was starting to panic this year, but at least I’d thought to pick some up back in January — it snowed so heavy on the 5th.  I think it was, or maybe the 15th? I’ll have to check my diary… so I mean it isn’t entirely accurate that it’s all from the 20th - but I mean, I had to have something and well I know how much you loved it when, when your mother… and I wanted you to know I’ve been thinkin’ of you non-stop while you were away. So, here, the first snow from the garden from every year you missed.” Elvis is still staring at the box, one finger poking each little round ball. 

“This really snow from two years ago?” 

“Uh-huh… I mean I don’t know what you’re gonna do with it now, but it really is… been in that box in the freezer this whole time…I hid it from everyone. Every time someone said they wanted some ice cream I panicked.”  

“Lou.” 

“‘M sorry this is really stupid, god - what are you gonna do with some snowballs, I should’ve gone in with the other girls, got you something really good… I just - well, I thought you’d like it and I know you misse-”

“Baby, I don’t, I don’t know what to say. I… I didn’t think anyone would think of me like this, like mama did, ever again. I - well, thank you, Lou darling, this is, well, its the best damn gift I’ve ever gotten.” He grabs her arm, tugging her to him - pressing a hard kiss to her forehead, the force of it surprising her.  “I’m gonna show everyone - c’mon - quick before they melt.” He runs out of the kitchen, leaving Louise to follow meekly behind. 

He shows them off like he’s a new father, proudly holding them up in the box, delicately picking one of them up and sighing at it, holding it up at the light for everyone to marvel at. It’s a little ridiculous in some ways - everyone in the room had been gifted something hugely lavish, and yet the thing  everyone was talking and gossiping at was a snowball. 

Hours later the party finally winds down enough that Louise realises she’s one of the last few stragglers of a night so late it’s turned into Christmas morning. How she’d ended up in this position she’ll never know, and she questions it herself as she stands quietly in the doorway, watching Elvis fumble on the piano. Just his fiddling is beautiful, little snippets of remembered carols, before he hammers onto the keys, singing along to Santa Claus is Back in Town. Louise can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes her and he looks up at her, smiling almost teasingly, perfect glint in his eye as he pauses for a second to run a hand through his hair before he continues for another verse and a half. He stops almost abruptly, standing up to stretch before turning to her. She’s trying to find the words to explain how beautiful it was, how perfect he sounds - how she can feel it throughout her whole being, but before she can express those sentiments he’s in front of her and grasping her hand. 

“C’mon,” He tugs her over to the armchair he’d been sat in earlier in the evening, “Over here hon, that’s it - you’re the last.” Elvis throws himself onto the chair, holding onto her, pulling her stumbling body against his. “You’re the last of my girls left…” He sighs melodramatically and Louise giggles uncontrollably back at him. She’d had an illicit two glasses and a half of champagne earlier in the evening; Elvis had playfully wagged his finger at her as she’d accepted it from Red although she’d seen him have more than a few drinks himself. She can feel the bubbles still settling into her tummy and head, fuzzing her thoughts a little and making her giggly and affectionate. Still, she wasn’t so tipsy she couldn’t call out his overdramatic behaviour. 

“They’ve just gone home for the night. They’ll be back tomorrow I’m sure.”  She shakes her head. He ignores her, crying out, 

“I’m all alone!” He tugs her by her elbow, catching her as she stumbles into his lap, pulling her onto him, flattening her wide skirt. It wasn’t really the fashion anymore but while she’d been momentarily hesitant about her holiday dress she wasn’t self-conscious, and she liked how it made her shape look. Some might suggest the bow and petticoats were juvenile, but it made her feel more adult than the tighter styles that were starting to become popular with her peers, more herself than playing dress-up. 

She snuggles under his arm, head pillowed on his chest, cheeks pressed against the little buttons of his shirt. He pretends to choke at her hair brushing his nose, using his free hand to flatten it under his chin and she grins, shivering against him as his breath tickles her skin. They stay cuddled for a few moments, sinking into the kind of happy exhaustion that seems to only occur on holidays. It feels different than before, although Elvis is more similarly carefree than she’d seen him in a long time. He’d grown up a lot over the years she hadn’t seen him, or so it felt, and his adultness didn’t match the image of him playing and fooling around that she had in her head. It’s an awful feeling, she thinks, that even with him right there, surrounding her, she still longs for a little more of the playfulness of the past.

Suddenly though Elvis shifts, interrupting her thoughts and murmuring against the top of her head, 

“Y’hear that?” Louise stops breathing, and all she can hear is the solid thump-thump of his heart against her ear, he waits a second but she can’t work out what he’s referring to and doesn’t respond, he gasps “There it is again! Do you hear it?” 

Louise shakes her head against him, frowning a little, “No?” She tries really hard to listen out, but other than the faintest hint of the music from the boys in the other room she can’t hear a thing. “The music?”  

“No! No, listen.” He puts his finger to his lips, shushing her,

“I really don’t hear anything Elvis.” He wraps his arm around her waist a little tighter, tugging her up so she was sat more upright on his knee, her face close to his. He whispers into her ear, 

“I think I hear hooves…” Louise frowns, 

“Hooves!?” God, it would be just her luck that he’d gone and bought her a horse or something, and she’d have to act grateful even though she was terrified of them.  

“Mmhmm, that’s right.” His hand rises up to brush across her back gently, fingertips dancing around her side, “Hooves. Hooves and bells.” He pauses for dramatic effect, jabbing his finger into her side in a tickling poke. His voice dips lower, as his arm squeezes around her, “Someone must have been a good girl this year.” 

Louise grins when she realises what he’s implying and couldn’t bring herself not to play along. 

“…You think it’s Santa Claus?!” 

“Hmm, definitely…who else would it be, on the roof with hooves and bells on Christmas eve?” She giggles, both in response to his kind-natured teasing and his fingers poking her side with an exaggerated motion.

“Oh, I wonder what he’ll leave in my stocking…” Elvis hums against her hair, 

“Mmm. Coal.” 

“Nooo!” She giggles back to him, “You just said I’ve been a good girl!”

“You’ve been a very good little girl.” His voice has hit that low pitch that immediately sends a jolt down her spine, right into the pit of her stomach and she swallows, trying to keep up with the joke. 

“Well, I’m, uh, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is.” 

“Mmhmm….” His hand brushes up her leg, “Bet ya I’ll like what’s in your stockings more…” 

“Elvis!” She shrieks, playfully batting his hand away, he pulls it off of her, smoothing down her skirt, and resting it onto her lap for a moment. Louise feels her breath catching as he presses a kiss to the side of her head, brushing her hair out of the way and shifting her on his thigh so that she’s facing him. It’s almost a struggle for her to meet his eyes, she felt so desperate for his attention - but there was nowhere else to look that made her feel any less heated. His hair, god even his eyebrows were Elvis-enough to make her squirm. It’s only a second of him kissing her jaw, before she’s gasping for him, and before she knows what she’s doing she’s grabbing his hand and shoving it back on her thigh. 

She’d kept herself for him, even as it felt that she’d been playing before, doing it for someone who would never notice or care - ostensibly in general, but really if she was truthful - for him. She’d touched herself, hadn’t been able to resist the temptation, especially after his deep voice came through the phone - but the other boys, the boys in school, the ones with blue collar jobs and careers, had all lost their appeal whenever she imagined kissing them, and her imagination interposed the image and feeling of him, his slippery body in the pool, the feel of him in front of her on the bike. He was thinner now, even still, than he was before, puppy fat replaced with lean muscles. His face shape changed just the tiniest bit, perhaps unnoticeable to some, but so very obvious to her, cheekbones and chin more angular than before. But his lips feel the same as they did before he left, and since his return home - she’d expected they’d have lost their eager nature, but still she can feel the hint of desperation as he presses them against her jaw.

She gasps, rocking against him as he roves down her neck - a place no one else has ever touched, tiny points of pressure feeling like a heat was expanding across her neck and chest, matching the clench of her thighs. His hand gently strokes up her stockings before he hitches her up, capturing his mouth with hers and shoving her underlayers up to her waist in the abrupt movement. Louise moves with him, desperate to stay in contact with his lips and she moans in upset when he starts to pull away. 

“C’mon baby,” He whispers, “C’mon, Lou-Lou let me - let me say thank you,” He’s barely audible as he speaks against her lips between pressing bruising kisses onto them, “I just - wanna, wanna make you feel good, Lou doll.” She gasps out her agreement, eyes falling closed and her head falling into his shoulder as his fingers find their way to rub against the silk of her underwear. He shifts her again, balancing her so she can rock against his thigh and his hand, whilst also rubbing her leg against his covered crotch. Louise is almost surprised at the heat of him against her thigh, but her curiosity has no chance to be satisfied when he hooks a finger under the leg band of her panties, totally distracting her from anything but the feel of him under her and attempting to stay somewhat upright. His finger feels softer than she’d imagined, and yet, in comparison to her own the pads feel foreign, rougher and surer than hers ever were sliding into the wetness they find there.

“God, you’re so soft baby, so fucking soft in here, perfect for me, you been waiting on me, honey?” 

“Uh-huh, waited, waited so long for you Elvis - didn’t, I didn’t want anyone but you.” He groans in response, his fingers moving faster. Until he’s forced to stop, tangled in the fabric and he growls in frustration. Louise feels it go straight down her body, and her thighs clench, trapping his hand even more. He pauses for barely a second to manhandle her up, just enough to roughly tug her panties down enough that it’s now entirely her bare skin rubbing against his hand and clothed thigh, the fibres of his trousers almost giving her a friction burn with her rapid movements. He continues as he was a second earlier, but now with far easier access he’s able to swipe his fingers across her clit, taking her to the edge almost immediately. She has no idea if this was something he’s always done well, or if this is a trick he’d picked up while he was away, but whatever the reason she was grateful. She doesn’t even consider how they were still, essentially, in public, too distracted by his slender fingers to be concerned about her now partial nudity. The only noise to break up their combined breathy moans is the layers of of taffeta rustling between them, as she continues to rock against his thigh, but this all changes when he delves his thumb into her wetness, bringing it back up to stroke circles on her clit, gently but repeatedly running it over her. 

“Oh, Elvis?” She cries out,  

“What baby? You’re so - I can feel you’re close,” His own breathing is getting heavier, and he holds her steady with his other hand grasping her thigh while his thumb continues to stroke her, 

“I don’t - I don’t…” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say, and before she manages to turn it into a complete sentence she’s shaking on him as she rides out her orgasm. He sees her through it, continuing to stroke her with the same pressure before rapidly shoving his hand down his own pants, roughly rubbing himself off to quick completion. She watches him closely, unable to do anything but stare as his own eyes slide closed, head falling back against the couch and mouth opening as he gasps out a high-pitched moan. It was about enough to make her shudder again against his thigh, the look on his face, his mussed hair, open collar and the noises of sheer pleasure. Louise finds herself bouncing on his chest as he breathes rapidly from the effort, and he holds her tight for a few moments while they both regain use of their limbs. Louise feels almost a little shell-shocked and she only really comes to her senses when Elvis shifts, wiping his hand on his trousers with a grimace and patting her thigh, 

“Gosh that was, I, um, thank you El,” He grins at her, clearly pleased with his success, and he pats her leg again, 

“Thank you, honey, for just about the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me earlier baby, it was just - I’m gonna treasure them snowballs forever, you’ll see.” She grins back at him before an unstoppable yawn takes over her face, “C’mon lil girl, time for bed.” She gulps, thinking about all the people on the house - worrying what will happen next, 

“D’you…where am I gonna sleep?” Elvis frowns, little furrowed line marring his previously relaxed face, 

“With me?” 

“Oh,” Louise swallows, “Um, I think my parents will be expecting me - you know, Christmas morning’s all about -“ 

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll drop you home at the crack of dawn,” He winks, “-gotta make sure the house is all in order in any case anyway.” Elvis pauses, “Or, or you could invite your mama and pops over. They’d be more than welcome…nothing my mama liked more than a full house - especially at Christmas.” He’s looking at her with that earnest little boy expression again and it takes everything in her not to just suggest she should stay forever, it was so absurd that he’d want her to stay, instead of the other way around. 

“Well…maybe I could stay. And, well, I mean, I could come over in the evening? If you swear you’ll make sure I get home in time -“ He’s quick to interject, 

“Cross my heart darling,” She hums at him, and he motions the crossing of his heart across his chest, solemnly holding eye contact, “I swear.”

“Ok then, I’d love to stay.” 

Somehow, and (despite his promises) to Louise’s surprise, she’s dutifully shaken awake and dropped off home, albeit not by Elvis himself, only a few very short hours later. Coming up the driveway of her childhood home it feels almost inconceivable that she should have spent the day and night how she has, and she wonders for a brief moment if she hadn’t knocked her head or something and just hallucinated the whole affair. She’s so in her thoughts that she doesn’t yet notice, as she traipses past the lounge and kitchen where she can hear her mother singing to quickly change, a new set of boxes under the Christmas tree. Elvis’ script on the gift tags declaring “To Louise, a very good girl, from Santa.” 

taglist: (it's been so long that I've lost the list for this verse - lmk if you want to be added, or taken off!)

@lialocklear @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @thatbanditquee @lookingforrainbows @whositmcwhatsit @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @peskybedtime @powerofelvis @dkayfixates @shakerattlescroll