elvis had had a terrible day. he was mauled by fangirls, he couldn’t make himself orgasm during his morning jerk off session like he usually can, and worst of all, he’s just heard you’re planning on divorcing him. but he didn’t hear it from you, no, he heard through a gossip magazine that his barbers daughter was reading.

he stormed home immediately and burst into your shared room where you were lying in bed flicking through a magazine of your own.

“you planning on leaving me?” he asks. his voice cracking slightly as he stares at you.