Elvis One Shots/Imagines

And the Grass Won't Pay No Mind - Elvis (NSFW)

A/N : Request by @tina46044 hope I did this justice!

You had tried to be polite the entire night. You'd served him seconds, thirds, fourths, whenever he asked for it, you laughed at his corny jokes, and you even bit your lip when he started to boss Elvis around. But Colonel Tom Parker was starting to become a complete nuisance and you wanted him out of your house.

You tried to do the telekinetic thing some couples joke about, communicating through your eyes to Elvis about it. But he didn't seem to notice. He just happily ate the mashed potatoes on his plate, chuckling to himself about something the Colonel said.

"That show, that show was a funny one," Tom said, waggling his fork as they talked about past performances.

"You know... you're just about the best man I ever met," Elvis said.

The Colonel placed a hand over his heart, "why thank you, my boy."

"I tell ya, Y/N," he gestured a fork your way while looking at Tom. "He gotta be one of the hardest workers I know."

You snapped. You didn't mean to snap. This whole evening you'd done so well at keeping your composure and not tossing this creepy old man from your house. But to hear Elvis sing his praises was a step too far.

"What the fuck?"

Elvis and Tom Parker both stopped to stare at you, Elvis placed his fork down and cleared his throat, "Darlin-"

"He's not a hard worker. He's a hard spender! That sleazy man works you for every cent you're worth then profits from it without getting off his ass," you spat, tossing your napkin on your plate.

"Y/N," Elvis said sternly.

You looked to the Colonel, "I think it best you leave, Mr Parker. I'll get your coat."

You pushed yourself from the table as the creepy old man insisted, "Colonel."

When you came back, you threw the jacket on his lap and said, "there you are, Mr Parker."

"Y/N!" Elvis stood from his seat, the chair scrapping against your beautiful hardwood floors from the suddenness of it. You looked him in the face defiantly, going through the open archway and holding the front door wide open for the little man.

Tom took his sweet time getting his coat on, seeming to amp up the frail old man act you knew was bullshit. As he lingered by the open door, swaying a bit to look at your angry face and Elvis's frustrated one, he made a tsking noise and in his sickly sweet voice he said, "no, my boy, what would your mother think about this?"

"How dare you!" You spat, stepping towards him and glowering. "How dare you use the death of his mother against him when you're getting punished for your bad decisions. Don't you dare make my husband feel guilt where he shouldn't."

"Now Y/N-"

"It's Mrs. Presley to you, and get out of my house!" You pointed to the open door and in perfect timing, the heavens clapped loud thunder in approval. Tom pursed his lips and hobbled out of the house. You didn't hesitate to slam the door behind him.

"Y/N, it's raining out there we can't leave him!" Elvis protested.

"I don't give a rat's ass, Elvis. He's a fucking vampire the way he bleeds you dry, little cold won't hurt him none," you spat, stomping past him to the kitchen. You needed to just get your nightly chores over with and pretend this whole mess never happened.

"I do not like the way you talked to him."

"Boohoo." You said, letting the family dog Sherlock out from his kennel so he could stretch his legs before bed.