A/N: 3rd part to Crawfish but can totally be read separately
Elvis had promised you a better story. When you'd last spoken on that pier, he'd kissed your lips and said he'd find a million stories with a million happy endings if you wanted them. You said you wanted it all. Everything he could give you.
He told you at worked at a bar downtown tonight, and his shift didn't end up midnight, but after that he would tell you all the best stories he could manage. Princesses, knights, dragons, humans in beastly forms, the whole nine yards. You were positively humming with excitement, and showed up at the bar around 11:30 just to see him in action.
He saw you and gave you a quick wink when you came in, but he was in the middle of serving another table. He looked handsome in the white suit jacket and black pants they had him wear. But you supposed Elvis looked handsome in just about anything.
You watched him as you sipped on your Pepsi, enjoying the live music. He went to his next table where a slimy old man sat with his arm wrapped right around a beautiful woman. When you looked a little closer, you realized that she was the same woman Elvis had helped the other morning. She seemed to be avoiding Elvis and the other man, but he shoved her face forward.
You saw Elvis's face tighten at that, and the fists at his side told you that he was one step away from stopping that man. But he couldn't, he lose his job if he hit anyone.
Then the man let the woman go and she fell to the seat, breathing heavily and breasts almost falling from her top but Elvis didn't notice. He was looking right at the old man as he gestured to the band, stuck a cigar in his mouth, then made a motion for Elvis to get to it.
Slowly, Elvis began to walk to the stage, the same look of anger on his face. He looked betrayed and disgusted, but he complied with whatever orders this creep had done. Elvis turned to the band and spoke for a moment, before grabbing the mic in his hands.
Everything came alive with the first lyric.
"If you're looking for trouble,
You came to the right place.
If you're looking for trouble,
Just look right in my face."
His eyes scanned the crowd, his body already moving to the music like he couldn't control himself. He saw you and you smiled, excited to see him perform even if it seemed under less than desirable circumstances.
"I was born standing up
And talking back
My daddy was a green eyed Mountain Jack."
With that last line, Elvis reared up his voice and thrusted his hips forward. He fell to his knees as he sang the next words, the music completely taking over his very being. It was intoxicating. You couldn't tear your eyes from him, and not a single person wasn't looking at him. He was captivating. Some women even started to collect around the stage to watch him in amazement.
You saw the old man grind his teeth and smoke that fat cigar, and you felt proud that Elvis was doing something right. He continued the song and it was completely magical, you yourself even jumped from your seat to clap for him when it ended.
Elvis now had a layer of sweat on his face, his hair covering part of his forehead. He got off the stage, walked over to the old man's table, and spat on it. Then he walked to you.
"That was amazing!" You exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. Your eyes searched his, trying to see what his magical secret was. It was just him. Him in his truest self.
Elvis kissed you, hands tightly on your hips. He sucked on your bottom lip, hand holding your face to deepen the kiss in every aspect he could. You could do this for ages.
"Thank you baby," he said, his hand sliding down to cup your ass.
You laughed, smacking him, "Oh you are trouble."
YOU ARE READING
Elvis One Shots/Imagines
Fanfiction*Temporary Hiatus! I am not gone forever, I love Elvis and am still obsessed. My desire to write fanfic for him has just dwindled, but I do know myself and I know that I will come back to it. I always do with every fandom. But don't expect regular u...
