Just a bunch of imagines about the King, Elvis Presley. I have read another compilation of imagines and that inspired me to write one too. Thanks to @applehead7122009 for the inspiration. Let me know how you like it!
|| Hello everyone! I'm back today with an interesting story, requested by . I hope y'all like it!! Disclaimer: in this story, Elvis just divorced Priscilla.||
Las Vegas, 1970.
It is your 20th birthday. Your parents have decided to surprise you with a ticket to see your favorite singer, Elvis Presley, who is playing in your city tonight. You are very excited, but also nervous... You do not know how to dress, since you still are stuck in the 'childhood' fashion sense. You are a proud Elvis fan: you have his posters, you have seen all his movies and you cannot wait to take part in this new experience, since you missed the NBC TV Special of two years ago.
"Mom, dad... Thank you so much! Is it only for me?" You ask your parents, who are gathered with you in the kitchen as you hold your ticket. "Of course! We sadly couldn't find anyone else of your friends, and we decided to go out for dinner as you enjoy it at the concert." Your dad says, his sentence kind of sounds like a bummer to you, but you try not to show it. When you stand up from the table, you go to your bedroom and look inside your closet. You take a few minutes to meditate on your outfit, you do not know if to wear pants or a dress, or maybe a skirt... What can he like more? Even if it is a really silly question, you still want to look good for him.
You then pick out a white blouse and a pair of flared squared jeans, all combined with a pair of red ankle boots.
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You walk to the bathroom with your clothes and place them on the closed toilet, before undressing of your actual ones and entering the shower. You let the water get you completely wet, before taking the shampoo bottle and squeezing a bit of product on your hand, rubbing it on your hair right after, scrubbing it a little, but very gently. Then, you rinse your hair and apply the conditioner; as you wait for it to do its effect, you grab the soap and rub it on your body, scrubbing thoroughly and making sure you do not miss any spot. After washing off everything, you get out of the shower and wear a towel around yourself to dry your body.
You enter your bedroom again, humming a little to one of your favorite songs, Wearin' That Loved On' Look; he recorded it a year ago, yet it is always a classic to you. You put on your panties and your bra, smiling at yourself in the mirror before spraying some perfume here and there, finally wearing the clothes you chose. You decide to grab your black leather jacket as well, just in case a sudden storm appears. You look outside, it is very sunny and clear, but you never know. You sit down at your vanity desk, taking out your makeup box from a drawer and applying a slight layer of white eyeshadow, black eyeliner and a few layers of mascara to make your lashes very thick; you know he likes them like that. You then choose to apply red lipstick, smiling at yourself in the mirror once again before standing up from the chair, backcombing your hair a little to make it voluminous.
As you are done, you grab your purse with the ticket and head downstairs. "Mom, dad, I'm leaving." You announce, heading to the door. Your mother looks at you and raises one eyebrow: "But the show is tonight at dinner... Why are you leaving so soon?" You scoff a little and open the door. "I wanna get good seats. I want him to spit on my face if he can." You say, laughing and acting like a little rebel all of a sudden. "Y/N!" Your dad scolds you, but you stick your tongue out and get out of the house, closing the door and laughing happily to yourself. Breathing the fresh air is amazing to you, it is barely 4 p.m. and you have four hours ahead. What is there to do?
