Elvis One Shots/Imagines

Tomorrow is a Long Time Pt3 /Don't Cry Daddy - Elvis

A/N: ending is kind of shit, I'm sorry

"Y/N, it ain't a move. You just gotta feel it," Elvis said one day while the two of you were sitting behind one of the carnival tents, him tuning his guitar. He'd been on the tour for a few weeks and you'd been spending all your time with him. Elvis was funny and handsome, and he seemed to enjoy learning about you even in the most mundane ways. You'd found yourself drawn to him.

"Surely it is," you said, standing from your seat to pace a little. You weren't anxious but that crate was uncomfortable and you didn't want to stare at Elvis while he worked on his guitar. "Ain't nobody going around just all crazy like."

Elvis laughed, "it's not a move! The music just, it gets in your soul."

You cocked an eyebrow, "oh yeah? Your shoes just stir up your soul?"

Then, in a horrifically bad impression of Elvis, you threw your arms in the air and wiggled around. Your hips moved side to side, your head shaking and sending your hair flying, your knees going in and out like a drunk chicken as you mumbled, "blue, blue, blue." In a deep voice.

"Y/N!" He laughed, setting his guitar down.

"What? This ain't it?" You teased, pouting your lips and turning away with more 'wiggles.'

Then you tensed as you felt a pair of warm hands on your waist and a body close behind you. In a quiet voice, Elvis whispered into your ear, "follow me, baby."

What had started as teasing and fun quickly became a sensual dance. Elvis kept a hand on your waist, fingers burning you through your dress, and he brought another to lift your arm and poise it. His breath was hot as it hit the back of your neck. Then his hand on your waist traveled to your lower stomach, pushing on your hips to have you arch them back a little.

"Gotta wiggle carefully, back and front," he said. Then he gently pushed your abdomen and you started to move your hips to the tune he was mumbling. But the jerky movements you were learning melted into something calmer and more romantic. His fingers came back to your hip and squeezed, and you could feel him move in time with you. You closed your eyes and took in a shaky breath.

"What in the damn hell?" Your father's voice boomed. You jumped from Elvis, opening your eyes and hoping the blush on your cheeks had faded. Elvis had done the same, looking shamefully to the floor.

"Nothing, Daddy. Elvis was teaching me to dance."

"You don't need to move like this man!"

"Oh, Hank -"

Your father glared at him, "Mr. Snow."

Elvis ground his teeth, "Mr. Snow, ain't nothing bad happening. I promise."

Your father pursed in his lips, a look of sheer disappointment on his face. He looked at you and gestured for you to leave, so you did. You went and found Jimmy, sitting with him on the Ferris wheel as it went up and away from the world below.

Later that night, when your father got home late, he had dragged you outta bed by your ear and screamed at you to stay away from Elvis. He said he was no good for you and no good for this program. Tom outta fire him. You prayed in your heart that didn't happen, Elvis was becoming your best friend and you could lose him because of a childish father. But you didn't say any of that, you just pursed your lips and put ice to your ear when he went to bed.

The next few days were awkward. You hadn't had the chance to speak to Elvis and every time you saw him, your father was around to watch with a critical eye. It wasn't until your Daddy was up on stage, with Elvis next, that you got to speak to him. He pulled you aside quickly, hands on your arms tightly as he spoke in a hushed tone.