A little less conversation...

I write smut

[gyratingpresley]

Welcome babies

Let me know if you wanted to be tagged in anything.

Masterlist

Elvis

I expect you to make me a daddy. 2/11/24

A little less conversation and little more action ❤️‍🔥17/11/24

Atta girl (In the works)

Pink Cadillac 3/12/24

Austin Butler

You're mine. 29/10/24

You're mine pt2 5/11/24

[gyratingpresley]

Sorry babies! I didn't mean to post In Time yet... still writing... ahh sorry for the long long long wait!

Love you x

[gyratingpresley]

Two days have passed since Elvis Presley's death date. It was hard to think about.

Though I have been MIA for I don't know how long, and stories have not been coming out; I've been reading your posts about Elvis. They truly show me how much Elvis touched everyones hearts.

One night I remember pulling a pin out of my wall while I was having a panic attack and scratching it against my skin. It was the first and last time I ever hurt myself on purpose. I opened my laptop, switching on Spotify. The first song that came on was Bossa Nova Baby. God, when I tell you he saved me. His voice saved me. His funny tone. His face. Him.

Elvis Aaron Presley saved me in more ways than one.

It has always been hard to say it, but Elvis really has left the building.

I love him. I love him with all my heart and soul.

P.S. I won't be tagging anyone in this post.

[gyratingpresley]

Story will be out soon, I have been receiving internals non stop, so sorry babies.

💗💗💗

I am terrible at posting, I need to get back into the groove. Also let me know if you want to be tagged in other stories!

Tagged:

@redwitchbitch1 @iloveelvisss @prettyrose0135 @from-memphis-with-love @elvisbdoll @i-r-i-n-a-a

[gyratingpresley]

The next story that will be out in a day or two is called... drum roll...

In Time

Here's a little sneak peak.

10 years, one engagement ring later, you were both in a really good place, or well, that's what Elvis thought. Living together at Graceland caused problems in your marriage. Elvis would come home late from rehearsals. Normally, you'd be fast asleep and then wake up to him, snoring his head off. As Elvis would constantly be at parties with his mafia, you would worry, that worry clouded your mind. It was the only thing you could think of. Of course, when he got home, you would muster up some sort of fake unbeknownst smile and kiss him, but your mind would still bubble over.

Elvis sat on the couch, newspaper in one hand, a peanutbutter and banana sandwich in the other. Today was the day you were going to talk to him. It can't be that hard, right? Him being your husband and all.

Tagged:

@redwitchbitch1 @iloveelvisss @prettyrose0135 @from-memphis-with-love @elvisbdoll @i-r-i-n-a-a

[gyratingpresley]

Surprise babies!

I'm going to start writing again. Classes have been hectic, especially with a production I am in coming along, balancing lines suck, and acting can be so frustrating. 😔

But I have missed you guys, let me know if there is anything you want me to write xx

P.S. I love you 💞

[elvisbdoll]

“Velvet chains”

Chapter 3

Summary: Velvet Chains follows the intense and dangerous relationship between Camille, a confident and independent woman, and Elvis Presley, a charismatic yet troubled star of the 70s. When Camille enters Elvis’s world, she quickly becomes the object of his obsession. Despite his fame and charm, Elvis’s personality is darkened by mood swings and jealousy, fueled by his reliance on pills. As the two grow closer, Camille finds herself caught in the grip of his possessiveness, torn between her desire for freedom and the undeniable pull of Elvis’s passion.

Pairing: 70s!ElvisXBlack!Oc

Trigger Warnings Substance Abuse (pills, drugs), Jealousy/Obsessiveness, Emotional Abuse, Manipulative Behavior, Possessiveness, Mood Swings/Anger Issues, Toxic Relationships, Psychological Abuse, Dangerous Obsession, cursing, Elvis being an asshole sometimes, gun.

Monday, July 14, 1975

The upstairs bedroom at Graceland was dimly lit, a single lamp casting long shadows against the walls. Cigarette smoke curled in the air, thick and stagnant, mixing with the low hum of the TV playing in the background. The volume was down, just the glow of the screen flickering across Elvis’s face as he sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, fingers tapping against his temple.

He barely blinked.

The girl—Camille—wasn’t just in his mind anymore. She was under his skin.

Elvis had spent the whole damn day thinking about her, churning over the fact that she had ignored him like he was just another man on the street. That wasn’t how things worked. Women didn’t walk past him like he was invisible. They stared, they giggled, they blushed. But Camille? She hadn’t even looked twice.

That did something to him. Something dark.

“E,” Joe Esposito’s voice broke through his thoughts, drawing him back to the room.

Elvis looked up, his eyes sharp and unreadable. The Memphis Mafia stood around, lounging in chairs or leaning against the furniture, waiting for orders. Red West sat near the doorway, arms crossed. Sonny West was on the couch, stretching out, his boots on the coffee table. Joe Esposito leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching Elvis closely. Lamar Fike, Marty Lacker, and Billy Smith were nearby, looking between each other, sensing the tension thickening in the room.

The mood was off. They all felt it.

“Elvis,” Joe started again, a little hesitant. “We found out a little more about her.”

Elvis straightened. “Yeah?” His voice was low, calm, but the way his jaw tightened told them how badly he wanted to know.

Joe glanced at Marty before continuing. “Her name’s Camille Hayes. Twenty-one. Born in Mississippi but grew up in Memphis. Works at some bookstore over on Main Street. Lives in a small apartment near Beale.”

Elvis let out a short breath, nodding, absorbing the information like it was the most important thing in the world.

“She got a man?” His voice was edged with something dangerous.

Joe shook his head. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

Elvis smirked a little. Good.

“She got family?”

“Just a grandma. Parents passed a while back. No siblings.”

Elvis stared at the floor, his fingers drumming against his knee, restless.

She was alone. No father, no brothers, no man. Nobody to stop him.

“She ain’t just some girl, E,” Red spoke up, his voice firm. “She’s a regular girl, not in this world. She don’t know you, don’t care to know you.”

Elvis lifted his head slowly, his expression blank, unreadable. But his eyes? Cold.

Red was pushing, and they all knew pushing Elvis never ended well.

“She will,” Elvis said, voice smooth, almost amused. “She will, Red.”

Sonny sat forward, sighing. “What’s the plan, boss?”

Elvis smirked, leaning back. “I wanna know more. Everything. What time she gets up, what she eats, who she talks to. I want to know when she’s alone.”

There was a pause. Nobody moved.

“Elvis…” Marty spoke carefully. “Ain’t this a little much?”

Elvis’s expression flickered, and for a second, his mood shifted violently.

His smirk disappeared. His nostrils flared. His hands clenched into fists.

“Did I ask for your damn opinion?”

The room tensed.

Marty shook his head quickly. “No, man. Just—”

Elvis cut him off with a sharp look.

“Then do what I said.” His voice was low and lethal.

Silence.

Joe exhaled through his nose and nodded. “Alright. We’ll keep an eye on her.”

Elvis’s mood flipped again, as fast as a light switch. He smiled like nothing had happened, reaching for a cigarette.

“Good,” he said smoothly, lighting up. He took a long drag, exhaling slow. “She don’t know it yet, but she’s mine.”

The men exchanged glances, but no one said a word.

The tension in the room sat thick and unmoving, the only sound was the soft crackle of Elvis’s cigarette as he took another slow drag. His mood had shifted back to something smooth, something easy, like the storm that had just flashed in his eyes had never been there at all.

But they all knew better.

“Tomorrow,” he said, exhaling smoke. “I wanna know everything. Where she goes. What time she leaves work. If she talks to any men.”

Joe and Sonny exchanged a look, silently agreeing not to push back. When Elvis got like this, there was no reasoning with him.

Elvis leaned forward suddenly, his eyes flickering with something sharp. “And I mean everything. If she so much as stops to tie her goddamn shoe, I wanna hear about it.”

The weight of his words settled in the air.

Red cleared his throat. “You want us to talk to her?”

Elvis paused, rolling his cigarette between his fingers.

“No,” he finally said, his voice soft but firm. “She ain’t ready for that yet.”

Yet.

That word sent a shiver through the men.

Elvis flicked ash into the tray beside him, stretching his legs. His mood had settled into something dangerously calm. “Go on, get outta here,” he muttered, waving them off.

One by one, they left, but Joe lingered.

“Elvis…” he started carefully, hands on his hips. “You sure about all this, man?”

Elvis’s eyes snapped to him. Dark. Unreadable.

Joe didn’t flinch, but he knew that look. It was the same look Elvis got when he had an idea stuck in his head, something twisted up deep inside him.

“She ain’t like the other girls,” Elvis muttered. His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. “She don’t see me.” His lip curled slightly. “And I don’t like that.”

Joe sighed. “Maybe she just don’t care.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Elvis moved so fast, Joe barely had time to react. Before he could take a breath, Elvis had reached into the nightstand, pulling out one of his pistols.

In one fluid motion, he cocked the gun and aimed it right at Joe’s chest.

The air went dead.

Joe’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t move. This wasn’t the first time.

Elvis’s hand was steady, his breathing even. His eyes burned with something wild, something untouchable.

“Say that again.”

Joe held his gaze, his pulse slow and measured. He knew Elvis wouldn’t shoot—but he also knew that in this state, Elvis wanted him to believe he would.

After a long silence, Elvis smirked. He lowered the gun, tossing it onto the bed beside him like it was nothing.

Joe exhaled through his nose.

Elvis just chuckled. “She cares. She just don’t know it yet.”

Joe didn’t argue. He just gave a slow nod.

“Alright, boss. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Elvis smiled, picking up his cigarette again. “Good man.”

Joe left, shaking his head.

And Elvis sat there in the dim room, thinking about Camille.

She’d be his.

One way or another.

TAG: @kxnnxy @jhoneybees @gyratingpresley @buglass @iloveelvisss @rjmartin11

[simplyelvis]

Elvis Presley in Kid Galahad, 1962.

[simplyelvis]

Elvis Presley in Kid Galahad, 1962.

[elvisbdoll]

“A night in Tupelo”

Summary: On a sultry night in Tupelo, August 12, 1954, a chance meeting with a rising Elvis Presley ignites a forbidden connection, testing the boundaries between desire and discretion in a world that’s always watching.

TW: uh nothing really? Maybe a little make out session? (If you find pls let me know), maybe a little bit of Angst.

Pairing: 50s!ElvisXBlack!naive!OC

A/N: hiii! I know I haven’t been active lately, but work has me doneeee and plus my computer decided to not work anymore… so! I’ll be posting a few fanfics I have been having on drafts! Thank you and enjoy!

Tupelo, Mississippi

August 14, 1954

The Mississippi summer heat hung heavy in the air, saturating every breath and clinging to the skin like a second layer. It was the kind of night that begged for trouble—sticky, slow, and simmering with unspoken tensions.

The little white house on the edge of Tupelo hummed with the sound of cicadas. A window fan sputtered rhythmically, failing to provide relief as it lazily spun. Inside, you sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, a paperback novel resting in your lap. The lamp on the nightstand flickered, casting a soft glow over the room. You had been invited to stay with a distant aunt for the summer, a temporary reprieve from the chaos of Memphis life. What you hadn’t anticipated was the unexpected houseguest that came knocking one late afternoon.

“Elvis Presley,” your aunt had introduced him, her voice carrying a note of pride. “He’s been playin’ guitar down at the church. Such a sweet boy.”

Sweet wasn’t the word you’d have chosen. Charismatic, maybe. Dangerous, definitely. From the moment he tipped his head and offered you that slow, crooked grin, you felt something in the air shift.

It was impossible not to notice him. The way his dark hair curled rebelliously against his forehead, the smoothness of his voice when he spoke, and the way he seemed to fill a room just by standing in it. He wasn’t just handsome; he was magnetic. And now, on this particular evening, he was sitting far too close for comfort, his denim-clad leg brushing against yours as he leaned back on the bed.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Elvis said, his Southern drawl pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I’m just tired.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to ignore the way his eyes lingered on you.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re a bad liar, darlin’.”

Before you could respond, the door creaked open, and your aunt peeked in. “Y’all need anything?” she asked, her gaze darting between you and Elvis.

“No, ma’am,” Elvis replied smoothly, flashing her a boyish smile. “We’re just talkin’.”

She nodded hesitantly, her eyes narrowing as if she wasn’t quite convinced. “Don’t stay up too late.”

As the door clicked shut behind her, you turned to Elvis, raising an eyebrow. “She doesn’t trust you.”

He smirked, leaning in slightly. “Do you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. You felt your pulse quicken as his gaze held yours, unflinching and unapologetic. The room seemed to shrink around you, the space between you two becoming almost unbearable.

“Elvis,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, “what do you want?”

His expression softened, and for a moment, the cocky facade faded. “I wanna know what it is about you that’s got me so tied up in knots.”

Your breath hitched as his hand reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. His touch was warm, almost electric, and it sent a wave of heat through you that had nothing to do with the summer air.

“You don’t mean that,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

“I do.” His voice was earnest now, the usual teasing edge replaced with something deeper, something that made your chest ache.

You wanted to pull away, to put distance between you and the intensity of his presence, but your body betrayed you. Instead, you leaned in, your face mere inches from his.

“Elvis—”

He cut you off, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both soft and insistent. The world outside faded away, the sound of cicadas replaced by the pounding of your heart in your ears. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he deepened the kiss.

You didn't know how it happened, but suddenly you were lying back on the bed, Elvis hovering above you, his denim jacket brushing against your bare arm. His kisses grew more desperate, as though he were trying to pour everything he felt into them.

You hadn't realized how much you'd wanted this until it was happening. His touch, his scent, the way he whispered your name like it was a prayer-it was all-consuming.

But then, reality set in.

"Elvis," you murmured against his lips, your hand pressing gently against his chest.

He paused, his lips hovering over yours, his breath warm against your skin. "What's wrong?"

You hesitated, your mind racing. "This... this can't happen."

His brow furrowed, confusion flashing in his dark eyes. "Why not?"

You sat up, creating a small but necessary distance between you. "You know why. People would talk. My aunt... this town..." You trailed off, shaking your head.

"Let 'em talk," he said, his voice low and defiant. "I don't care what anyone thinks."

"Well, I do," you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended. "I've had to care my whole life, Elvis. You don't know what it's like."

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "You think I don't know what it's like for people to judge you? To look at you like you're somethin' they can't quite figure out?"

You looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

"It's not the same," you whispered.

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Maybe not. But that don't mean we gotta let it stop us."

His words hung in the air, tempting and dangerous. You wanted to believe him, to let yourself get lost in whatever this was between you. But the weight of the world outside this room was too heavy to ignore.

"Elvis." You struggled to find the right words, to explain the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "I can't afford to be reckless”

He reached out, his hand gently cupping your chin and turning your face toward him.

"Darlin', life's too short to play it safe all the time. Sometimes you gotta take a chance."

His words sparked something in you, a flicker of rebellion against the constraints of a world that always seemed to be watching, judging. Maybe he was right. Maybe, just for tonight, you could let go of your fears and take a chance.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his in a soft, tentative kiss. It wasn't the fiery passion of before, but something deeper, more deliberate. He responded in kind, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close.

For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to feel. To forget.

—————————-

The moment didn't last.

The sound of the front door slamming shut jolted you both out of your reverie. Your aunt's voice rang out from the hallway, her tone sharp and suspicious.

"Elvis? Y/N? What's goin' on in here?"

You scrambled off the bed, smoothing your dress as your heart raced. Elvis, ever the charmer, leaned back casually, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Just talkin', ma'am," he drawled, his voice as smooth as honey.

Your aunt stepped into the room, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. "It didn't sound like talkin' to me."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Elvis beat you to it.

"I was just leavin," he said, standing and giving your aunt a polite nod. "Thank you for havin' me over."

She didn't respond, her eyes darting between the two of you as if trying to piece together what had happened.

Elvis turned to you, his expression softening.

"Goodnight, darlin"" he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

"Goodnight," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As he walked out of the room, you couldn't help but wonder if you'd just made a mistake—or if you'd finally done something right.

——————————

Later that night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, your mind replayed every moment of the evening. The way he'd looked at you, touched you, kissed you. It was as if he'd seen a part of you that no one else had ever noticed, a part you'd almost forgotten existed.

But with that came a dangerous hope, one that you weren't sure you could afford to hold onto.

Because Elvis Presley wasn't just a boy from Tupelo. He was a storm, a force of nature that couldn't be contained. And you were just a girl trying to keep your feet on solid ground.

TAG LIST: @jhoneybees @kxnnxy

[gyratingpresley]

Gonna need to be tagged in your stories, angel 🤭😝

[gyratingpresley]

Hello, my precious babies, I am unwell with covid at the moment, and I was planning to get onto posting some stories for you as I have been MIA for the past few weeks. But unfortunately, I won't be posting another story for a little while. Having covid for the second time isn't the best.

I haven't been receiving any asks in my inbox, so please, if you do have something to ask or an idea of what to write about, I will most certainly answer them. xx

Lots of love

Ava

Tagged:

@redwitchbitch1 @iloveelvisss @prettyrose0135 @from-memphis-with-love @elvisbdoll @i-r-i-n-a-a

[gyratingpresley]

Hi cuties, sorry for all the delays, I have been busy with Christmas and all that bullshit. I'm going to take a little break to finish all of the upcoming stories.

I'm so so so sorry ❤️

P.S. Hi baby 💞

[gyratingpresley]

The Universe is the Limit.

This is an interstellar themed story, and yes, I copied some things so don't come for me.

Main Characters:

Lucinda Foy-Presley (Luce)

Elvis Presley

Natalia Williams

Professor William

Side Character (s):

Emily Foy

Hi, my babies, MERRY CHRISTMAS! It's just a small blurb to fill you stockings. Do you want more things like this? 💞

I opened the front door, my boots dragging across the dusty, old plank deck. Eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill. My heart sank to the bottom of my chest when I heard Emily scream out my name, “Luce, no! Don’t leave! Please!” She sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Our grandfather grabbed hold of her, she reached out for me as I dropped to my knees. It felt like a thousand daggers piercing though my stomach. I felt weak... helpless... like I chose my passion over my own little sister... breaking free of his grip, she ran up to me, wrapping her arms around me, crying into the crook of my neck. Carefully prying her arms from me, I handed her back and turned to leave. “I will always love you...” It was all I could muster.  

The engine revved as the tires of my old truck scrapped across the ground, my eyes filled with tears as I drove away. 

I stared out a window watching as earth receded into the distance, looking as if nothing more than a blue and green marble, against the black tapestry of space. I sighed and turned my head looking at my crewmates. The two of them sat on chairs discussing things. Walking over, I tapped a pencil against my notepad. The next planet was 8 light years away. Natalia ran her hands through her auburn hair, bouncing her knee. I turned my head to Elvis, who was brushing his calloused fingers over his lip. My eyes followed his finger as it moved back and forth. He looked up at me, pointing to the chair next to him. Sitting down, I cupped my face and gently groaned into it. “Time is going to change...greatly, isn’t it?” Elvis muttered, staring at the ground, Natalia cleared her throat and stood up, walking away. I faced Elvis, pointing to my notes, "The passage of time is relative depending on the observer. For the three of us traveling at close to the speed of light, only twelve years will have elapsed, but for our friends and family back home... 60 years would have passed.”  He exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose, “What if we erase the years taken? Is it possible?” His question was laced with a tinge of regret. I took a deep breath, leaning back in the chair, my gaze fixated on his, “Time is relative. It can stretch, and it can squeeze, but it can’t run backward baby” I saw his eyes change, regret, sadness... I knew that if we were ever to return, the home that we left behind would be nothing but a distant memory. As we sped through the cosmos, the grim finality of this dawned on me. There was no going back... only forwards. Elvis leaned over and pulled me to his lap, his lips gently brushing mine. "Fuck." He whispered as he captured my lips in a brushing kiss, I could taste the regret on his lips.

As the hyper sleep chamber hissed shut and the amniotic fluid began to flood the tight space, thoughts flitted through my mind. When I emerged on the far side of the milky way, my sister would be an old woman, one of the mothers of a generation of children not yet born... Il murmured her name one final time as I descended into a dreamless sleep, a latter day of Rip Van Winkle speeding through the endless night of deep space. 

Tagged:

@redwitchbitch1 @iloveelvisss @prettyrose0135 @from-memphis-with-love @elvisbdoll @i-r-i-n-a-a

[gyratingpresley]

Hi babies, I unfortunately am not able to post the Christmas story today, writers block is really fucking me off. You might get a special gift in your Christmas stocking, though 💞

I love you all xx

P.S. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

[gyratingpresley]

When should I release my next story?

Christmas day. 🎄

Christmas Eve.

Boxing day.

Voting ended onDec 25, 2024

Hey babies, I am releasing a Christmas special. Though it isn't finished, I need to know when you want it by!

Okay, that's all. Love you ❤️

P.S If you are stalking my page Bobby pin, fuck you 🫶

[whositmcwhatsit-deactivated2025]

When you're about 9 months behind on posts, asks and fics, where do you even start?!

[kawaiiwitchy]

I hope he’s looking down and smiling when I dance around in my nightie 💕