Elvis One Shots/Imagines

Can't Help Falling in Love - Elvis

A/N: Time line is a little awkward for this one but work with me. I also know it's not direct quotes from the movie but it's a fanfic so whoopydeedoo

———1956

"A real singer's always gotta have the best costumes," a high pitched and slightly sweet voice said as the door to your shop opened.

Well it wasn't your shop, it was your mother's. But in her old age, she'd rather be upstairs watching old Desi Arnaz movies than manning the shop downstairs. You didn't mind. You loved what you did, even in the mundane moments. Sewing and creating was something you adored, and you can't remember a time in your life you weren't creating new outfits or experimenting with styles. If your mom didn't want to tailor the clothes of Memphis, that was okay. You enjoyed it even if it was tedious work.

Two men entered the shop. One was of average height and a larger build. He carried a cane and was the one with the sickly sweet voice. The other was a tall and lanky young man, with tanned skin and black hair that curled just a little too much on his forehead. He was handsome. So handsome in fact, the other man seemed to blur away.

"Hello, how can I help you?" You said from behind the counter, pushing the fabric order that just came in and overflowed the space aside.

The ugly man gave you a tight smile, "uh, hello, we're looking for a fashion designer."

"Oh, I'm sorry, we mainly tailor items here."

The man screwed his face up, "that's not what Mrs. Roberts said."

You blushed. Mrs Roberts was a family friend who had recently attended a military event in Washington DC with her husband when he got promoted. She had asked you to create a special gown for the event and you did. It was some of the most fun you've ever had, but you didn't know if you could count yourself as a fashion designer.

"Well it's awful kind of you but she's the only person I've ever made clothes for."

"You design?"

"Well, yes of course."

"Can I see?" The other man spoke for the first time. It was deep and smooth and full of Southern charm. You smiled shyly, not knowing if you wanted to reveal something so personal. But the look in the other man's eyes, the look of annoyance and disbelief masked by a small smile, made you agree. You went to the back and took your newest sketchbook, mostly full of men's outfits.

When you laid it on the counter and opened it, the young man started to flip through the pages. He was humming at different outfits, and based on the pieces it seemed to be hums of approval.

The older man looked over his shoulder at a particular suit jacket you had designed. All he said was, "Hmm, yes."

"Why, Colonel, I quite like these," the young man said to the older, Colonel.

"Hmm," the Colonel replied. He flicked through a few pages with the tips of his fingers, as though actually touching them was an offense. But he nodded and turned to you. "How quickly can you be on the road?"

"What?" Your eyebrows shot up to your forehead. The road? What? Was he seriously asking for you to drop everything and design clothes for a man you didn't even know.

"What the Colonel's tryna say is we're doin a tour with the carnival right now, for my music, and we wanna person to get my outfits. You got style." The young man said, flashing a white smile.

"Your music? You're a singer?"

The Colonel balked, "you have not heard of him? He is the Elvis Presley!"

You felt a little silly. The way the older man said his name made it sound like this was someone you should just know. Like Ronald Reagan or Marilyn Monroe. But you hadn't heard of Elvis Presley. He didn't seem to take any offense.