#elvis request

[starryschoolgirl]

Family & Fame

An attempt at a Elvis x Reader drabble

Summary -> In private Elvis was your loving husband and you were his doting wife, but in public Elvis was Elvis Presley, and you were just the wife. Unfortunately, sometimes that public dynamic would follow the two of you home, making way for arguments.

Warnings -> Jealousy, marital dissatisfaction, arguments, very cute and domestic 1st scene though, if you only want some pure fluff read that first scene it's adorable, denial of sex, yelling, swearing, flirty fans, circa 1956, Elvis' confusion leads to anger, Elvis is such a cutie I can't even be mad at him in this. Elvis is also a dad in this because I felt like it.

WC -> 3.5k

Request -> "i was wondering if you could write something with elvis x reader where there's a little marital dissatisfaction? just like a little drabble, doesn't even need to be over 100 words"

"You look handsome, now stop fussing"

Elvis leaned into your hand that cupped his cheek which was smooth from being freshly shaved.

"Now,"

You reached down for the comb on the hotel suite's bathroom counter, holding it casually between two fingers. While you smiled up at him your thumb stroked his cheekbone gently as you asked,

"Would ya hold still so I can fix that mess of hair?"

Elvis laughed softly and turned his cheek slightly to press his lips on your palm, smirking sweetly as he murmured against the skin,

"Sure thing Mama…"

With a smile you stilled his head by keeping your hold on his cheek, tapping it lightly you signaled for him to get lower, which he complied with as he bent his knees slightly, lowering himself to a height that you could see the top of his hair better.

As you neatly combed the gelled mess back into place you mumbled fondly,

"See what happens when a man fusses over his appearance? Just makes it worse, you men, so reckless with your hands…"

He asked testily with a smirk,

"And when a woman fusses over her appearance?"

You simply responded with one last perfecting swoop of the comb,

"Women don't fuss."

He drawled out a sarcastic, "Mhm…"

To which he was answered with a pointed, "Mhm."

After feeling pleased with your work you placed the comb down and smiled up at him, "Perfect", you said just before kissing his cheek.

You then turned to the long bathroom mirror that covered the entire length of the long marble countertops, leaning over it ever so slightly to rub at the skin around your lipstick, making sure it wasn't off-kilter in any way.

He smoothly stepped behind you, the front of his body pressed against the back of yours as his spine bent with yours, leaning over you onto the bathroom counter as you eyed him through the mirror. His arms wrapped around your waist and his chin fell to your shoulder as he stared back at you through the mirror.

His voice was low and gruff as he suggested,

"We don't really gotta go to this little gatherin' tonight now do we? Couldn't we just enjoy the rest of our time in San Francisco? We got about 10 more hours."

Elvis punctuated each sentence with a kiss to your neck, right in that spot he knew you were ticklish. You laughed softly and gently batted him away with a few swipes of your hand which in turn made him laugh.

You spoke while trying (and failing) to keep a serious face,

"Elvis, t-the mayor-"

Your laughing made it hard to put together a proper sentence.

"He's holding this soirée tonight in honor of you coming to- Ack..!"

Elvis laughed and said sarcastically before biting your ear,

"Oh, a soirée? I'm sorry little Ms. French I didn't know it was such a big deal"

You tried your best to continue through the giggle-fest Elvis could pull from you.

"Don't you w-wanna show them all that Southern charm you used to get me to marry you?"

Elvis growled playfully as his hands wrapped around your waist tightened and he picked you up from behind, evoking a squeal of surprise from you as he mumbled into your ear,

"Ya make it sound as if I schemed on you with those charms"

You laughed loudly as he held you up and responded,

"You did scheme on me! Made me think I was marrying a John Wayne cowboy type, just to find out you're a Harpo Marx clownish type, but instead of playing a harp you play a guitar"

He growled into your ear "Oh you little-" before ravaging your neck with playful kisses.

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted your fun, the both of you turning to see it soon opening after Elvis', "Come in Roberta"

As the door opened you smiled to see Roberta, the sweet old lady who'd been working for you and Elvis since a month or two after he released his first RCA record which brought in the money needed to have a personal nanny for yours and Elvis' daughter, sweet little Charlotte, who she was holding as she stood in the doorway.

Roberta smiled as she saw her two employers as in love as ever in each other's arms, the both of you looking like a million bucks in your outfits for tonight.

"Well kids, I just wanted to let the two of ya know Charlotte is all dressed and ready to go, and that the bellboy said the car's out front and ready.

She was much older so even though you and Elvis were adults, she still referred to the both of you as kids, because the two of you in life experience were like kittens compared to a sweet old cat like her.

You smiled and quickly made your way to take your daughter out of her nanny's arms, cooing over how darling she looked in her little dress and coat before saying with a smile, "Thank you, Roberta."

You looked back at Elvis as you bounced Charlotte in your arms, asking with a soft smile,

"Could you grab my purse over by the sink Honey?"

-----

Sometimes you forget how Elvis' emotions could flip like a switch.

One moment before walking into the big building as Elvis held Charlotte and nervously stared at the doors, you'd cup his cheeks gently and whisper reassuringly, "Hey, everybody here is here for you, to just be around you. You're the man of the evening, they're the ones who should be nervous right now, and I bet you they are"

And then the next, you're holding your sweet daughter in your arms while Elvis is holding some random girls (who you're sure are somebody's sweet daughters) in his arms as he's telling them what "overcomes" him to make him move on stage.

You could vomit, you really could, at the way they all put their hands mindlessly on his chest, and 'ooh' and 'ah' over him explaining what it was like for him to film his upcoming debut film "Love Me Tender"

You got along well with the mayor's wife and a few of San Francisco's socialites who were older women which meant they weren't here for Elvis they were here because their husbands who were close friends of the mayor were here. Due to their disinterest in Elvis, they were easy to make casual conversation with.

The younger women, however, were a different matter. Most of them clung to Elvis or waited their turn to do so. And as you watched from afar you were well aware you could go over there to claim what was yours, but you didn't feel the need to. The ring was on your finger, and his child was in your arms. Sure, he didn't often make eye contact with you through the night like he always used to, but that was just because he was surrounded by so many fans. Right?

Sometimes through the night, he'd shifted through the room to you, with a group of girls in his arms, only now it was a different set, and of course, the merry mayor following him closely, buttering up to America's icon. You shifted Charlotte to your hip as Elvis introduced you to the short, tubby man.

"This is my wife, and right there is our little girl, Charlotte."

The mayor tipped his head to baby Charlotte in your arms, "It's nice to meet you little miss, and," he then turned his head to you and held his hand out, "It's nice to meet you as well Mrs. Presley"

You laughed softly at the title and politely urged him to just call you by your first name.

The night went on like that, now and then a new important man would shuffle his way into the circle of girls that surrounded Elvis and the two of you would do introductions, eventually, Elvis had offered to hold Charlotte for you, and as he picked her up he smiled at her saying, "There's my little girl", making those big fish eyes that often entertained the little girl.

The women that surrounded him would coo at how sweet of a father he seemed to be. You only watched with an unimpressed look as one of the girls chimed in,

"She's blonde? I thought you said under that mop of shoe polish dyed hair was a light brown color, or are you just trying to fool me, Mr. Presley?"

The girl giggled and obnoxiously leaned her head against Elvis' shoulder and made a playful face at your daughter as she did so, clearly infatuated by the adorable baby, but not as much as she was with the man who had fathered the baby.

Elvis laughed softly at her jest, and responded simply,

"Well Hon, it's true that I have light brown hair now, but when I was a baby I had blond hair, it just turned brown as I got older, happens with a lotta babies"

The girl giggled once more and took an almost mournful sigh as she stared up at Elvis through her batting eyelashes (you were surprised she didn't fly away with how fast those things were flapping), and crawled her hand that rested on his chest a little higher as she spoke,

"I think I'd have to see that to believe it…"

Oh, brother.

You sighed softly at the ridiculousness of these girls, and the added ridiculousness of Elvis actually laughing and smiling along. He would get a little bit of nagging later. Thankfully you didn't have to stomach the situation too much longer as Charlotte began to cry. As Elvis tried to hush her and bounce her in his arms you smiled politely at the girls and made your way closer to Elvis.

As you took Charlotte from his arms you spoke softly,

"I think she's just a bit tired Elvis, I'll calm her in the car for a bit"

Elvis mumbled a soft 'Alright Hon', and caressed Charlotte's cheek gently with his index finger before leaning your way to kiss you. But, feeling as annoyed as you felt now, at the last second you'd turned your head, his lips landing on your cheek rather than your lips, his original target.

But he couldn't say anything as you'd already begun to walk off.

As soon as you slid into the backseat of the car, the driver asked where Elvis was. You explained that you and the little one were just resting up for a bit and that you weren't sure when Elvis would be through. Charlotte had calmed down and quite quickly fell asleep in your arms, the closing of her pretty little eyelids had marked the end of the party for you. You wouldn't leave your baby to sleep in the car alone, and you wouldn't force her to be awake for the rest of the party.

You didn't mind though as you felt all partied out yourself. As much as you hated to admit it, you don't think you ever could get used to seeing Elvis surrounded by girls and entertaining girls the way he'd been since his launch to fame.

You didn't think it was unfair of you to feel this way. It wasn't as if this was something planned when the two of you got together a few years ago. It was only recently that you'd had to start enduring Elvis Presley, the rock and roll heartthrob, and not just Elvis, the dorky boy who drove a truck and had a hard time putting together a neighborhood team to play football with him.

You closed your eyes with a sigh, resting a gentle hand upon your daughter's hair. You leaned your head against the car window, it was cold as the nights were beginning to have a little chill to them. The seasons were changing, and with them, so was Elvis.

Oh well, such is life.

-----

"…Just to the hotel Frank…"

You hummed softly at the familiar voice, pressing your head impossibly closer to the window as you tried to adjust to a more comfortable position. Just as you had settled comfortably back into the window a warm weight in the form of a hand pulled your head elsewhere. You were too tired to care, so you let it, your head soon resting comfortably on familiar broad shoulders.

That voice spoke again, but it seemed that in your half-asleep state, his voice kept coming in and out.

"…took me awhile, but… sorry… gotta entertain the fans…"

You felt annoyed by the voice interrupting your slumber, but you tried your best to ignore it after letting out a disgruntled hum.

It felt as though only a minute had passed since you'd gotten peace again before you heard that familiar voice, your husband's voice, whisper as his hand gently kneaded your shoulder, only now it was coming from the other side.

As you opened your eyes you saw the soft lighting of the hotel's sign lights spilling into the open door of the car along with Elvis' figure outside the car. Now it seemed he was holding a sleeping Charlotte in one arm as his hand tried to soothe you awake.

"C'mon Honey, we gotta get some sleep 'fore the flight"

You hummed softly and after mumbling a 'thank you' to your driver you got out of the car with the help of Elvis' steadying hand which naturally shifted to your hip after you were standing upright.

Elvis unlocked the room and kissed your cheek, mumbling something about the baby and Roberta, you were too busy on a mission to get out of this uncomfortable dress and still miffed at him, to care to process what he was saying. Your mission was to get to the bathroom to get ready for bed, as you made your way there you stopped by your suitcase to grab a short silk nightgown and your robe.

As soon as you stepped into the hotel's bathroom, and Elvis disappeared off to who knows where you could finally let out a breath. You were exhausted but you couldn't go to sleep just yet in your state. You tiredly shuffled over to the sink and began to take apart your pretty party appearance piece by piece. The hair clips that tugged at your scalp now rested on the sink, and the makeup that caked your face now caked a rag.

You struggled to reach the zipper of your dress, and for a moment your body went limp and you debated just going to bed in it. With your head hung tiredly and your eyes closed, you could've fallen asleep standing there had a set of familiar hands not graced your bare shoulders. Elvis' voice close to your ear as he asked through a smirk,

"Ya need help?"

You opened your eyes and looked at him through the mirror, you finally got a good look at him, his hair had been fussed with, could've been from him carding his hands through it throughout the night, or from one of those girls carding their hands through it. You nodded with a sigh, upset with him, but definitely in need of assistance.

As his rough fingers glided along your bare back before working at the zipper, Elvis' lips quickly fell to your neck, placing soft little pecks along the skin. You stared at him through the mirror blankly, and shook your head as you mumbled,

"Not tonight Elvis, I'm too tired…"

He hummed softly as the sound of the undoing of the zipper and the feeling of the dress loosening around your body filled your tired senses.

"Who says ya gotta put in effort Honey? I can handle ya the way I always do,"

You felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin as he murmured,

"I know how ya like it when you're tired…"

You sighed and tried pulling your neck away but his lips followed, and his hands began to explore you thoroughly as the only thing holding that dress on your body was his pressed so close against yours. You quickly stepped to the side, leaving him to shuffle forward as you were no longer there for him to lean his body against.

You kept a hand on your dress to hold it up on your body as he watched with furrowed brows.

"Elvis, I'm not in the mood for it tonight alright? We have a flight in a few hours, I want to get some sleep."

"Baby-"

Elvis reached his hand out to you but you took a step back and shook your head, a firm, "No, Elvis." leaving your lips as you walked to where you placed your nightwear with a hand still holding up your dress. Just as you began to head for the closed bathroom door he followed and asked,

"What's wrong Hon? W-what did I do to ya?"

His voice got louder as the confusion he felt was beginning to get him worked up,

"Seriously Baby, I took ya out to this nice party or fuckin' soirée or whatever pretentious bullshit you called it and this is the thanks I get?!"

You shoved him by the chest as you whisper-yelled, "You're gonna wake the baby..!"

Elvis scoffed as he took a step closer to you, practically caging you against the bathroom's door, his teeth were grit as he stared at you incredulously,

"You've been in a bad mood with me all night, seems like ya haven't even been listening… I told ya I was puttin' her with Roberta tonight! You would know if ya didn't have a stick shoved so far up your ass."

You stared up at him, feeling a pang of hurt at his words. He continued,

"Actin' like you're too good to talk to any of the fans. Spendin' all ya time schmoozin' with the rich old hags who don't give a rat's ass about me or my music"

You abruptly yelled back at him, staring daggers up at him through your teary eyes,

"That's why I was with those women Elvis! Because when I'm hanging out with them I don't gotta watch as they make goo-goo eyes at my fucking husband! I don't need to watch them paw and grab at the father of my child!!"

Elvis shook his head with a scoff and looked away from you, still keeping his hands pressed against the door, caging you in one spot. He mumbled something along the lines of "naggin' me like a jealous old wife…", a term that had only become a thing said in your arguments since Elvis' rise to fame.

You cupped his cheeks in your hand and pulled him to look at you, your voice shook as you affirmed,

"That's cause I am a jealous old wife Elvis… And had I known I would've turned out this way when I married you a few years ago… I…"

Your voice had dissipated before you could finish your sentence. You stared down at the tiled floor of the bathroom. Elvis was still wearing his shoes, whereas yours had been off the moment you stepped into the room. You could see the creases in the shoe of the foot that he was tapping nervously, and you could see the way your toes scrunched tensely.

The bathroom was quiet, and Elvis' voice which was once full of defense was now softened as he spoke quietly,

"Now, ya don't mean that Baby. You're just tired is all…"

He looked down at his shoes nervously and then at himself through the mirror on the other side of the bathroom. His hands that once caged you in landed ever so gently on your arms, his words came out through nervous stutters,

"You were right, we-we gotta catch a-a flight. Better head to bed,"

There he goes. When things get just a little too real, when the words are just a little too honest, and when reality is a little too close to crashing into the both of you, he expertly redirects it all for another time. Wanting to keep his schoolboy fantasy of having a little family of his own intact.

The little fantasy that he would whisper in your ear late at night in high school as the two of you squeezed into his twin-size bed, knowing if he talked at a normal volume the very thin walls of his house would give way to his voice waking his parents in the small room on the other side of the wall.

The little fantasy that he assured your Daddy would come to fruition if he got your parent's blessing. And it seemed so as you soon gave birth to sweet Charlotte, but just months after she was born you saw the first few strands of that fantasy being shot to hell as Elvis' talent had started being recognized.

And though it had only been maybe a year or two since then, you felt as though the boy you married straight out of high school was becoming a man you didn't recognize. And while you could keep the fantasy with Elvis going when the two of you were alone such as during the time you spent getting ready with him, it all crumbled bit by bit as his love affair with the fans and the public would disrupt his love affair with his wife. And he would let it.

So, I meant it when I said it was supposed to be a drabble, less than 100 words, short and sweet, as requested by a lovely anon. Don't know what happened...

#elvis fanfic #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fic #elvis x y/n #elvis fanfiction #elvis x you #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley fandom #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley angst #elvisaaronpresley #50s elvis #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis angst #elvis request

[be-my-ally]

treat me nice (Innocent Elvis Request)

Hello darling anon, this is just a teeny little fill for the prompt - I loved it and wanted to use it in one of my longer stories before I realised I’ve pretty much established that he goes hard for swallowing in all of them lol so a short little standalone for you! 

I couldn’t decide on an elvis to write this for, and I was debating between 50s elvis + bde, and then I thought well why not just do both - So here’s a little 2 for 1. 

summary: elvis accidentally cums on reader's face - that's it. that's the plot.

pairing: elvis x reader (implied fem but never actually described) - I'm imagining 57-59!elvis + 71-4!elvis on the cusp of bde, as pictured below,- but I think the descriptions are limited enough to let you picture whenever.

warnings: 18+, oral - p receiving, teeny bit of daddy kink.

wc: 2040 total

50s!elvis (wc: 1060)

You’re in a little bit of shock at how you’ve found yourself here, in a closed train carriage, kneeling in front of Elvis Presley. You had no idea how you’d won out from the crowds of other girls at the station, but somehow you’d found yourself pulled out and onto the train, invited back to his new house that he apologised to you wasn’t yet decorated quite how he wanted it to be but he’d love to show you around regardless. That was a couple of hours ago on the long journey down and you’d spent the time chatting and giggling. Not very long ago he’d pulled you down onto the chair next to him, drawing you into delicate, gentle kisses. You genuinely couldn’t tell someone how you’d ended up on your knees though, how you’d gone from gentle, harmless, kisses, fingers brushing down his barely there lace shirt to pulling his cock out from his trousers. 

You’re a little younger than him, although not by a lot, but you think you might have more experience, even with his reputation, if you’re judging from his shocked expression at how you handled him and the blush on his cheeks. You smile, kneeling forward to kiss his uncut tip.

“I uh, sorry - it’s not, I don’t - we, uh, didn’t have a whole lot of money and I,I, know it’s not what -“ You cut him off, 

“Nothing to apologise for, it’s gorgeous.” He can tell you’re being sincere and smiles down at you a little bashfully, his front few locks of hair breaking free from their gel and flopping over his eyebrows, stuttering a reply. 

“Oh, o-oh well, well then I guess - guess that’s all alright then, if you say so.” You wink at him, before keeping your eyes on him as you lick a stripe down his length. He groans as you maintain eye contact sinking your mouth down onto him. He bucks up, thighs straining to spread further but restricted by his trousers still around his thighs. You laugh, a little cruelly, as you help him shove them further down. He whimpers when you go back down, and it’s a gorgeous noise, so gorgeous it makes you determined to try and make him do it again. You hum a little tune on him, causing him to wriggle like a worm on a hook, and when you glance back up at him you can see his eyes are tightly closed, his mouth tight with the effort not to make too much noise. That won’t do - you push your throat onto him, your nose practically touching him, before pulling off almost all the way and going back down. That gets a reaction out of him. 

“Uh-uh, oh.” He’s whining, little noises filling the coach, high pitched in a way that you notice is similar to his singing - reminding you once again who it is in front of you. You do the same motion again, but when you pull back this time you circle his head with your tongue while trying to maintain a level of suction. His hips jerk and he keens, you pull back and off, giving him a second to recover, watching with amusement how his cock jerks in the air, dribbling from the tip, foreskin back and clear. His mouth falls open as you blow on him a little, and he can’t stop the little pleading questions and noises from tumbling out of his mouth. 

“Oh, oh gods baby, please, you hafta, you gotta put it back baby, you gotta, need to be back in you, you’re so warm, so wet, darlin’ I need it back.” You do as he requests, redoubling your efforts to bring him to the edge. It’s not something good girls should be proud of but you are aware you have some… skills in this area, and your lack of gag reflex allows you to take all of him down your throat - something that has him throwing his head back, mussing his hair up further, and moaning at the feeling. 

It’s not long before you feel his hands move from where they’ve been clenching on his thighs to your head, and you can feel him tightening beneath you - but then suddenly, he’s pulling out and you’re taken aback at how rapid the movement is, considering you could literally taste him starting to cum in your mouth, but before you have time to think or say anything you can feel the rest of his release hitting your cheeks. It’s not entirely unwelcome, although it is unexpected but when you blink up at him you can see the sudden panic on his face as he rapidly starts to apologise. 

“Oh god, sweetheart - I’m so sorry, oh no that’s dist’gusting baby, oh, ‘m sorry, sorry - I didn’t, didn’t wanna finish in you, ain’t right to do that to a lady. … But oh no, its all over your face now.” You don’t want to laugh at him but you can’t help but giggle, not expecting him to be so cute, so sweet. 

“Elvis, honey, it’s ok, it’s fine - it’s fine, I like it.” He’s clearly bewildered by this unexpected reaction and he goes silent, mouth open, blue eyes wide and anxious, staring down at you. You can’t help yourself, swiping your fingers over your cheeks before bringing them in between your lips, licking them off one by one. He stares, his breathing going heavy again and his cock twitching. You giggle again at him, 

“I really like it baby. Next time - you can finish in my mouth if you like.” His eyes go wide, and he frantically nods. 

“Course. Course, if that’s, if that’s what you want - sure. Sure.” You smile, pleased his shoulders seem to have relaxed again from his worry - and even more pleased that he doesn’t seem to reject your suggestion of a next time. “Never had, never had anyone swallow me like that before, doll. Lost my senses for a moment then - that was, god, come up here, let me - let me clean you up.” He’s pulling you back up onto the chair now, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaning you up - you pout a little at the waste and at having to watch him tuck himself back away and he laughs at you, his confidence returning. “Don’t you worry, little mama, I’ll get him out again soon enough.”

70s!elvis (wc: 980)

He’s dominant in the bedroom, and he likes to be babied but he doesn’t like to give up any amount of control, and you are, by now, used to being manhandled around by him, used to his demanding desires. So it comes as no surprise that he’s pushing you down where he sits on the edge of the loveseat in his bedroom, telling you, 

“Be a good girl now honey, need you to take care of lil’ daddy now.” You get the, not so subtle, hint and obediently start to pull his giant buckle off of his belt. You can see, once it’s removed, the outline of his hardening cock through his trousers. You lean forward to mouth at him through his trousers, but you pause when you hear his voice from above, 

“Gotta, gotta go back out there in a minute doll, don’t you go getting daddy’s trousers wet now little one.” You cheekily lick the fabric once, watching it turn darker where your spit had touched it before pulling back, waiting for him to pull himself out. When he does you surge forward, but then only touch him gently - pressing delicate kitten licks up and down his shaft. He allows this for a moment before taking grasp of the back of your head in one of his large hands and the other holding his cock, knocking it against your lips. You can taste him as he slips past your lips - the slightly sweaty taste of the day on him and underneath the familiar scent of his natural musk combined with the Neutrogena soap he favoured. It’s a heady combo, and a more insecure girl might feel ashamed at how much it turned you on or that you’re a little disappointed you can’t bury your nose in his little thatch of hair that you can just about see trailing down from his chest hair since he’s kept his trousers essentially all the way on. You moan as he pushes you deeper and you’re gratified to hear an answering groan from above you. He’s never a quiet partner and he’s not tonight, a litany of praises and curses falling from his pouty lips as he controls your head and pace. 

Your eyes water as he pushes you down further, cupping your head with his other hand now as well, and you choke a little - causing him to pull you off for a second, you look up at him, answering the question in his eyes by licking your lips and leaning forward to capture him in your mouth again. You’re more prepared this time, and he holds you for a second, feeling your throat swallow around him and forcing you to adjust to the deeper motion before pulling you back, completely controlling the pace and depth - effectively fucking your face. He thrusts forward, his own hips helping to push you back and forth. He loosens his hands, although they remain tangled in your hair and on the back of your neck, allowing you to take more control. You hollow your cheeks, tasting his precum dribbling out of him onto your tongue, and swirl your tongue around his tip. It’s not long before his hands are tightening once again and he’s pushing and pulling you harder and quicker while his hips begin to stutter. 

He pulls you off by the grip on your hair, and you open your mouth to ask why when the thick strands of his cum hit your face, tiny splashes hitting inside your open mouth but mostly falling across your cheeks and nose. You’re shocked, considering his comment at the start about needing to maintain presentability, but that still doesn’t stop you from licking the bits that fell around your mouth. He strokes your hair, apologising;

“Oh, Jesus, mama I’m real sorry about that, oh darling, I’m so sorry -“ You’re a little confused about what appears to be a pretty dramatic personality change but you can tell he’s being sincere. 

“S’ok, El - you, uh, you know you’re meant to do that don’tcha?” You try to make light of it, sitting back on your knees, laughing at him and he laughs back, 

“No, no I mean the,” he gestures to his own face and then to yours, “I didn’t mean to baby,” You laugh at him, cutting him off before he could continue, 

“What’dya mean E, it’s great!” You swipe a finger through the mess on your cheek, and while you grimace a little at its texture as it is cooling you aren’t lying when you suck on your finger and say, “I just wish you’d finished in my mouth.” His mouth falls open and he stutters when he tries to reply, 

“I, I, uh, C-c-cilla didn’t, she didn’t like it at all, didn’t like it…on her, or uh, in her. Said it was sticky - gross.” You frown, it is, of course, her prerogative, but to make him feel like there was something wrong with it even with other people seems like there’s more to it than her simply not wanting to swallow. 

“Well, I ain’t Cilla baby.” And you smile up at him, watching his throat bob as he swallows looking at you licking up more off your fingers. 

“No. No, you definitely aren’t.” He pulls you up, and you’re taken aback at the force in which he kisses you, unused to someone being willing to taste themselves on you. But he groans into your mouth, swiping off the last of his cum from your face with his large hands and feeding it to you on his own finger. Again, it wouldn’t be your preferred method of swallowing but it wasn’t too bad and you’d rather make him feel less embarrassed about it than kick up a fuss. Besides, licking and nibbling on his chunky fingers - feeling the cold metal of the rings against your lips was pretty hot too. 

#elvis request #elvis x reader #elvis smut #be-my-ally #elvis fanfic #elvis x you #elvis presley x reader

[that-one-raccoon]

Soukoku Wedding in Vegas:

The Reception...

(just to clarify, i have no idea where the og picture was taken but i doubt its vegas)

#they eloped in vegas with an elvis impersonator officiate #this was just a warm up to get me back in to drawing #sorry its been real wild lately #to those with requests i will get to those soon #also im 90 % sure i got the ring on the wrong hand #soukoku #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou gay dogs #wedding #that-one-raccoon’s art #my art #bsd dazai #dazai #dazai osamu #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #dazai x chuuya #chuuzai #skk

[memphisflash]

Hi!!! I saw your post and wanted to request :)

Could you write a early 70s Elvis X innocent reader, where we're one of the many girls that he brings up to his suite at the international hotel and as he expects for both of us to do the deed, he notices we're really reluctant and shy and he tells us we can do anything else instead of the dirty if we want to.

I think that would be real cute🥹

𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧

Word count: 5,1K

Warnings: virgin!reader, innocent-ish!reader, age gap (reader is 19/elvis 35), small mention of guns, reader struggling with extreme blushing, elvis poking a little fun at reader, both elvis and reader taking a sleeping pill, fluffy, smut; non-penetrative sex, dry humping/grinding, gg rubbing, elvis cummin' in readers' panties.

A/N: honestly, i'm not as good at writing innocent!reader as other writers in the fandom, buuut i had fun writing this and i kinda wanna explore this trope more - a part two is already cooking in my mind, tbh. like i told @jhoneybees this turned into more than the request but oh wellll.. let me know what y'all think, lovies! 🩷

➼ Masterlist. | Read on Wattpad

When it came to boys, you had always been shy. When it came to men, you considered yourself pretty much a disaster.

Now it wasn’t like you couldn’t have a normal conversation with someone of the opposite sex. Shy you were, but definitely not unsociable. You liked going out to places with your friends, even friends of the male kind.

But it were men like Elvis Presley that had your hands trembling and your heart beating so loud it was deafening in your ears.

Never in your 19 years of life had you expected to be approached by a member of Elvis’ entourage in the showroom of the International to ask if you were willing to meet the man himself up in his penthouse. Your first reaction was to politely decline, but your friend who had dragged you along to the concert in the first place pretty much pushed you into the arms of Sonny West – another handsome man that had got your cheeks flushing crimson, but it couldn’t compare to the effect the raven haired singer on stage had on you.

The last thing you saw as you were whisked out of the showroom was your friend putting both her thumbs up, waving as a shit-eating grin spread across her face.

Talk about peer pressure. You didn’t stand a chance.

The Imperial Suite was lush. The kind of luxury you’d never experienced before in your life. It barely felt as if you were still in a hotel, this seemed like a whole apartment with several rooms, a living area bigger than your childhood home and a seperate kitchen. The interior in the living space alone was worth more than your car, you were sure of it.

But even if you wanted to gawk at the beautiful things in the room, you didn’t had the chance to. Sonny West had left, leaving you alone with the man who you had just watched perform downstairs. The man millions of men wanted to be and millions of women wanted to be with.

You felt like a deer caught in headlights as he walked toward you, like a predator about to circle his prey. Though once he spoke, introducing himself as if you didn’t know who he was, you didn’t miss how soft spoken he was.

He wasn’t like any other superstar hauling girls up to his room to have his way with them and then kick them to the curb once he was done with them. At least, that’s what you wanted to believe.

And perhaps it was because of that naivety that you managed to calm down, so much so that you had agreed to wear one of his silky pyjama button ups, neatly folding the outfit you had so carefully picked out for tonight on a chair near Elvis’ bed.

Elvis was sitting on his bed, back against the headboard, wearing his own pair of midnight blue silk pyjamas. The first few buttons of his shirt were left open, causing his chest hair and tan skin to peek out and it instantly made you nervous all over again.

“C’mere, honey,” his voice was soft and low, his hand patting the empty spot next to him.

You stared at him for a second too long, quickly snapping yourself out of it before he’d think you were an idiot who didn’t understand the English language. You hated being like this in this moment – after all, this was a one time chance and you didn’t want to ruin it by having him think you were not interested in him at all.

You were, you really were, but this was the kind of man that could send you into a frenzy.

You sat next to him, nearly forgetting to breathe as his warm hand found home on your thigh. In a reflex, you pulled your knees up to your chest and his attention shifted to your feet.

You had recently gotten a pedicure, chosen the baby pink to go with the outfit and open toed heels you’d worn tonight, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Elvis.

“You got real pretty feet, honey,” he grinned as he slipped his hand underneath the sole of your foot, caressing his thumb across the top and over your toes, admiring the color on your nails. “So tiny and dainty, like a little doll,”

“T-Thank you,” you blurted out in a stuttered whisper, mentally slapping yourself for such a stupid reaction. But it was better than letting out the moan that was bubbling in the back of your throat, which you quickly swallowed.

His hand moved from your feet back up your leg and you froze as it slipped in between your thighs, fingertips pressing into the supple flesh of your right thigh softly as he leaned in closer to you. You looked into his blue eyes that were slightly drooped and you had no idea if it was due to fatigue or lust, but you figured it was the latter. And although you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same – your stupid body seemed to have a mind of its own – your nerves prevented you from fully giving in.

As you felt his hot breath against your skin and he was going in for a kiss, your eyes automatically fluttered shut. His lips were soft and warm, and as his tongue slipped into your mouth, so wet.

You let him take the lead, not because you had never been kissed before, but because you had never been kissed by someone like Elvis Presley before. He was the kind of man that had probably kissed a thousand girls in his life and it showed in his experience – he explored your mouth in a slow but heated manner, his hand moving from your thigh to your hip and the more he leaned into you, the more you sunk into the soft pillows and sheets of his kingsized bed.

You were doing alright until his lips moved to your neck, dragging down to your collarbone and his hand creeped underneath your pyjama top, cupping your breast. It was then that your breath hitched in your throat and your muscles tensed up uncomfortably tight.

Elvis noticed it immediately and pulled his head back, looking down at your face. As he saw how flushed your cheeks and neck were and you were looking at him as if he was about to murder you, he moved his hand down your ribcage and out from underneath your top. He placed a gentle hand on your hip instead and frowned a little, his eyes gentle.

“You alright, little one?”

The sound of his voice sounding so soft and sweet made you want to burst out into tears, because you felt stupid. Stupid for freezing when the most wanted man in the world wanted you, but you couldn’t help it.

You simply weren’t ready for sex. You valued your virginity and didn’t want to lose it to a man you were probably never going to see again.

“I’ve never.. n-never..”

“Never been touched by a man,” he simply finishes your sentence for you, a soft smile raising the corner of his mouth. You nodded and looked down, noticing how quick your chest was heaving up and down as if you’d just ran a marathon.

He shushed you gently, placing his fingertips underneath your chin to make you look at him again. You didn’t know what his reaction would be, but the sweet smile and soft kiss to your forehead wasn’t what you’d expected.

“We don’t have to do it tonight, honey. I ain’t gonna force ya to do anythin’ you don’t want.”

“You’re not gonna throw me out?” you whisper with wide eyes, trying to ignore the way your bodies were still pressed together and you could feel his very prominent bulge poking against your thigh.

He let out a laugh, the sound of it deep and rich. “Ya think I was raised by wolves? No, I ain’t throwin’ you out. You’re stayin’ that cute little butt right here, and we can do somethin’ else.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, biting your lip as another flush of crimson spread up your neck and to your cheeks. He squeezed your hip softly before he sat up, bringing you up with him, and as he sat against the headboard again, he quickly draped some of the covers over his middle, hiding the fact that he was still very much turned on.

“And you stop that blushin’ before your face stays like that, little tomato,”

A wide grin settled on his face, and you could hear the playful tone in his voice which made you laugh softly. You pressed the palm of your hands against your cheeks and try to gather control over your breathing, making your cheeks slowly return to their normal state.

Instead of sleeping with the man that millions of females all over the world would call you crazy for rejecting for, you let him show you around the suite. He showed you his collection of guns that were safely stacked away in black cases which scared and intrigued you at the same time – you politely declined when he offered you to hold a gold handle hand gun, but you did admit it was very pretty.

Then he showed you around his wardrobe, from the outfits he wore on stage to the ones he wore off stage. As he noticed you particularly liked a black, somewhat see-through, blouse with white flowers on it, he handed it to you like it meant nothing to him.

Again, you declined.

But Elvis didn’t give up so easily and as you two sat on the bed again, his jewelry case opened and exposed in between the both of you, he noticed you admiring his black star sapphire ring. Not thinking twice about it, he took it out of the case and slipped it around your ring finger. As expected, it was way too big for you.

This had Elvis go through his jewelry, looking for a necklace he didn’t wear himself anymore. Had to be in there somewhere, he knew it.

“Elvis, I can’t take that,” you gasped as he took the ring off your finger again and hung it on a simple golden chain. Before you even had the chance to stop him, he was already putting it around your neck, the ring resting heavy against your chest. “Elvis, I’m serious. This is too much, you don’t have to-“

“Looks great on ya, little tomato,” he grinned as you looked at him with wide eyes, grabbing your wrist when you went to take the necklace off. You wished he’d use another nickname for you, but you ignored it for now – you had more important matters to worry about. Like the 14 karat gold ring that was hanging on your neck.

As you went to protest again, Elvis grabbed both of your hands and lowered them. Once more, you blushed as he leaned forward and placed a soft, tender kiss on your lips. “I want ya to have it and to wear it every day. Somethin’ to remember me by,”

“As if I’d ever forget you,” you whispered, looking down at the ring as you swallowed down the lump in your throat. If Elvis had heard your words or noticed that you were about to cry, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he closed his jewelry case, put it aside and settled in the sheets, half sitting up against the headboard. He opened his arms for you and you didn’t think twice to settle against his side, putting your head on his chest.

“Thank you, Elvis,” you whispered as you snuggled up against him, earning a kiss on the top of your head from him.

“My pleasure, honey.”

Luckily, in this position he couldn’t see that your cheeks were flushed and hot the way they’d been before. And as his fingers gently combed their way through your hair, you truly felt special. Something that you perhaps were not in Elvis Presley’s world, but for tonight you decided to indulge yourself in the fantasy.

Elvis picked up a book from his bedside table and with his arms wrapped around you, he opened it and started reading to you in a hushed tone. While at times the subject of the book was confusing to you, you listened with interest nonetheless. Maybe you were a little more interested in the sound of his voice and the smell of his cologne, but you fought off sleep that was slowly threatening to overtake you.

You didn’t want to fall asleep, didn’t want to miss a waking second of being with Elvis.

“You gettin’ sleepy, aren’t ya?” He smirked as he peeked down at you, noticing your eyes threatening to close a few times. You immediately shook your head as you raised it and looked at him, smiling sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologized, stifling a yawn. Elvis chuckled and closed the book, putting it to the side before he turned back to you.

“Go an’ lay down,” he ordered gently as he nodded to the empty spot in the bed. You did what you were told, slowly creating some distance between you two as you laid back in the bed, giggling softly as he pulled the covers up to your shoulders, tucking you in. “Now don’t go and get all nervous again, ‘lright? I’m just gonna lay down next to ya so we can cuddle, sound good?”

You smiled at him, truly appreciating that he wasn’t trying anything you didn’t want and that he was so sweet about it all. You considered him to be a true gentleman.

As you nodded, he smiled back at you and slips underneath the covers next to you. His body warmth is intoxicating as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer against his chest. With him laying on his side, he has the perfect view of your face and he takes advantage of it by studying every little detail, his other arm slipping underneath your head so he could hold you even firmer against him. He squeezes your shoulder softly and then his hand moves to your face, fingertip poking your cheek softly.

“No blushin’…” He whispered with a small grin on his face as he noticed your cheeks were slowly turning red again. You looked at him and laugh softly, hiding your face in your hands. He immediately clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, grabbing your wrist to softly pull one of your hands away. “And ‘specially none of that..”

His whisper was low as he leaned in closer to you when he managed to pull your other hand down too, his lips finding yours once more.

You lost yourself in your second shared kiss tonight, and you felt a little more loose. Probably because he couldn’t comment on your blushing when he was kissing you.

Elvis had to force himself to keep himself under control – he wasn’t going to do anything you didn’t want, because he respected your need of not wanting to take things further, and he did truly enjoy your company without the intimacy part.

But he was still a red blooded man, and his hard cock that twitched against the fabric of his pyjama bottoms was proof of that.

And as you slowly broke the kiss and turned your back to him to hide your flushed cheeks, he took the opportunity to spoon you, your ass pressed against his cock in a way that had him humming lowly.

You didn’t move away, and he took it as content. With one arm still underneath you and one arm around your waist, he kept you close to him as he pressed his hips forward, letting you feel how hard he was.

You tensed up but as you felt him placing sweet, comforting kisses on your shoulder, neck and eventually cheek, your body relaxed again as if he was a God who could put you at ease right away.

It was a strange sensation, really… and although the way he was slowly grinding against you was definitely of sexual nature rather than just cuddling, you didn’t stop him.

Because it was turning you on more than you’d ever admit to anyone… or even to yourself.

“If you.. want me to stop.. I will.”

His breathing had quickened a little, words coming oit in a low stutter.

Telling him to stop would be a wise thing to do because you had no idea how strong your willpower was… you had no idea how far this was gonna go, or if he’d be able to stop.

But by the sounds of his low groans and soft moans, you knew it felt good to him. Really good. And even as your brain worked itself into a frenzy, you wanted to please him.

Show him that you were not completely clueless, or a little lamb that had no idea she at least had some kind of effect on men.

“N-No.. Don’t stop,” you whispered back, hiding your face in the pillow a little despite him not able to see the state your face was in.

Elvis cursed softly under his breath and took it a step further – thinking you wouldn’t notice when he tugged his bottoms down to his thighs, rubbing his bare cock against your ass. But you were only wearing his pyjama shirt and your panties, ofcourse you noticed it.

And yet, you still didn’t stop him.

The feeling of his cock against your ass had you letting out a soft moan of your own and this caused Elvis to grip onto your waist a little firmer, twirling his hips around firmly and slowly as he grunts deeply in your ear.

“Oh God, baby..” his breath was hot against your neck, his fingertips digging into your skin softly. “Such a soft ass,”

His words had your heart beating so loud you were scared that he could actually hear it, but if he did, he didn’t mention it. He was too busy focusing on the friction he was creating, working himself up more and more.

You took your face out of the pillow to inhale a sharp breath of air as his hand slipped underneath your top, fingertips grazing the curve of your breasts. You surprised yourself as your back arched and your ass pressed firmer against him, indicating you wanted him to use it to his liking.

And he did. Even had you gasping and moaning a couple of times as his cock managed to slip in between your thighs from behind, his tip and part of his length ghosting along your folds, missing your clit by inches. He apologized in a stuttered whisper every time it happened, but you could tell by the moan that rolled off his tongue that he enjoyed the feeling of his mistake.

And so did you, but you were praying he didn’t notice that your own arousal was staining your panties.

He did. He definitely did and it had him fighting the urge to tear your panties off and sink himself into you inch by inch.

His self control was stronger than he realised because he kept his hands where they were, grinding his cock against your ass, though he didn’t stop himself from making his “mistake” over and over again.

Seems like he wasn’t the only one getting worked up because as soon as you raised your leg a little, he immediately grabbed onto your thigh to keep it up. He moved closer to you, his cock resting against your clothed pussy.

“I can feel you’re wet,” he whispered in your ear, his voice raspy as he let you put your leg down again, though he didn’t move away, enjoying this close proximity.

“P-Please, d-don’t put it i-in,” you immediately said, a hint of panic evident in your face. He laughed softly and placed a hand on your tummy, keeping it there as he felt it was the safest place.

“I won’t, honey, I promise,” he said as he raised his head a little, looking down at you. You carefully made eye contact with him, cheeks flushed, teeth sunken into your lower lip. It took everything in him not to fuck you senseless right here and now. “Can I put it in your panties?”

The question sounded both innocent and like absolute filth at the same time. You blinked a few times, repeating the words in your head over and over again until you suddenly nodded, afraid you were taking too long to think about it. He smiled at you, pecking your lips sweetly as he whispered a soft “Really?” against your lips.

You nodded again.

You were curious… curious to how the skin on skin contact felt. He promised not to put it inside of you and break your virginity, and in your innocent naivety, you trusted him.

He pulled your panties aside, letting it snap back into place softly as soon as his cock was resting against your wet folds. You shuddered and gasped at the feeling of his warm length pressed against your exposed pussy, his tip putting the slightest amount of pressure against your clit.

He didn’t put his head back down again, this time leaning on his elbow so he could look at the way your face was truly resembling a tomato right now, soft breathless moans escaping you. He thought it was adorable.

His hand found him on your hip, fingertips caressing your skin softly as he started to move his hips back and forth at a snail’s pace. You swore you could hear the sound of both your essence mixing together, your arousal deliciously coating his length.

“Feels good, don’t it, baby?” He whispered as he keeps looking down at your face, not wanting to miss the way you could barely keep your eyes open, lips parted as soft moans filled his ears. He smirked a little as he could see you nod your head slowly, eyes fluttering shut.

He keeps his pace slow, afraid that if he’d go any faster he would slip in by accident and hurt you, and that was the last thing he wanted. Just because he kinda got his way with you tonight doesn’t mean he was going to overstep your boundaries.

But it was you who wanted more of that delicious feeling he was giving you. It was your self control that was threatening to slip.

“P-please.. Elvis.. faster..”

He grunts lowly at your words, lowering himself a little more on the bed again to hide his face in your neck and sprawled out hair, his hips snapping forward just a little faster. The feeling had you moaning a little louder, gripping onto his hand that was still on your stomach.

He laced your fingers together, concetrating on not fucking you by accident, no matter how much he wanted to.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he moaned in your ear, his tongue flicking against your earlobe which had your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Bet I could slip right in..”

“N-No!”

“I won’t.” he immediately said, laughing softly as he slips his other hand into yours as well. He keeps the pace steady – not too fast, and not as slow as before.

With the way you were holding each others’ hands and your most intimate parts were rubbing against each other, bare and raw, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. You hadn’t expected the night to end like this, but deep down inside you were glad it did.

Your only problem now was that you didn’t want any other man other than Elvis Presley anymore and he hadn’t even been inside of you.

You were completely ruined for anyone else.

Elvis lost himself in the pleasure and the feeling of you grinding against each other, and so did you. Part of you wondered what it would be like to have him push into you, how deep you’d be able to feel him.

Would it even feel good at all, or would it only hurt?

A million questions plagued your mind, but Elvis made you forget every single one of them with the way his cock was stroking through your folds and how lovely his moans sounded in your ear.

You weren’t planning to ask them, anyways.

Neither were you planning on taking it to that sacred part of the whole ordeal. You weren’t ready, and that’s what you’d keep repeating in your head like a mantra until you truly felt otherwise.

Besides, Elvis seemed to enjoy this just as much as the actual deed and you were right – he did. It was evident by the way he was freely moaning, the feeling of the fabric of your panties rubbing against the sensitive tip of his cock feeling like a lick of a flame against his skin.

He was close to coming undone and he didn’t try to stop himself, nor did he warn you what was coming – you’d feel it when it happened.

Squeezing your hands firmly in his own, his hips stuttering forward for a second before he pushed his hips forward firmly, you moaned shakily as strings of cum sputtered from his cock, shamelessly staining the inside of your panties. The baby blue piece of underwear that was one of your favorites was completely ruined and in your state of arousal, you couldn’t get yourself to care.

Elvis breathed heavily as he slowly let go of your hands and gripped onto your hip, groaning softly as he pulled his now soft cock out of your panties.

The loss of skin contact already had him yearning for more.

He rolled onto his back, ready to have you cuddle up to him and hold you, so imagine his surprise when you shot up out of the bed and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

“Honey, you okay in there? Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to go this far,”

He sounded truly apologetic from the other side of the door. And you wished you could find the strength in your voice to tell him you weren’t mad, but rather embarrassed like hell.

You’d gone into the bathroom to take off your panties and clean yourself and after you did so, you’d caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

Your face was hot and as red as a cherry.

Splashing water on your face didn’t help, neither did the breathing exercises you taught yourself whenever you were blushing this much.

You felt like an absolute fool and it wasn’t until Elvis threatened to break down the door because he wasn’t getting an answer from you that you unlocked the door and faced him.

He saw the state of your face and chuckled softly, but before you could hide again, he stepped inside the bathroom and gently cupped your face.

“Jus’ breathe, little tomato. In through your nose, out your mouth,” he showed you how, as if you didn’t know what he meant, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

The nickname… not so much, but you didn’t protest.

You followed his example a few times and closed your eyes as you focused on breathing with him and the pads of his thumbs caressing your cheekbones.

You didn’t know what kind of witchcraft Elvis Presley was practicing, but he managed to help you calm down in the matter of a few minutes.

“There, all good,” he smiled as you opened your eyes to look at him, the heat disappearing from your face. He gently pulled your face closer to his own and pecked your lips, wrapping an arm around you as he took you back to bed – making sure you were wearing one of his boxershorts, before he’d get turned on all over again due to you being half naked in his bed.

Elvis settled in the sheets with you in his arms after he took a sleeping pill and when you asked him about it, he wanted to tell you no when you asked for one. But he couldn’t resist the way you fluttered your eyelashes at him and looked up at him as if he’d hung the stars and moon for you every single day the sun went down.

Your mother took sleeping pills due to her own insomnia and sometimes even when she was stressed, so it wasn’t a foreign thing to you. Elvis relented, figuring it would help you calm down a little, but he only gave you half a pill.

The two of you slipped into a relaxing state of drowsiness and with your head on his chest, you listened to the calming sound of his heartbeat. His fingers ran through your hair, twirling the ends around his fingertips, and you could hear his breathing get heavier.

Before he could fully fall asleep, you spoke up, making sure your voice was soft and sweet. “Elvis?”

“Hmm?” he squeezed your shoulder softly, pushing your body firmer against his.

“Can you.. can you give me a new nickname?”

It was silent for longer than you expected and you thought he’d fallen asleep, but before you could raise your head to check, he let out a deep amused chuckle.

“Why, honey? I like callin’ you my little tomato,” He smirked, his eyes closed, but he could picture the pout you were probably giving him as you did raise your head to look at him this time.

“It sounds weird… and I hate tomatoes..” You giggled softly, putting your chin on his chest, trailing your nail softly across his jaw.

“Fine,” he sighed softly, feigning annoyance but he let you know by the grin on his face that he was playing. As he felt your fingertip grazing along his lips, he kissed the pad of your finger. “How’s Cherry?”

“Cherry..” you whispered, testing how it sounded on your tongue.

You liked cherries a whole lot better than tomatoes.

“Alright, my sweet Cherry. Close your little eyes an’ get some sleep,” he mumbled sleepily, his hand resting at the back of your head, fingertips massaging your scalp softly.

You smiled and a flush creeped along your neck once more as you leaned in closer and kissed his lips softly. Elvis smiled and held you close as he drifted off into a deep slumber.

You did as well, sneakily reaching your hand to his bedside table to take the other half of the sleeping pill he’d given you.

There was no way you’d be able to get a proper rest on your own without the help of medication and as you fell asleep in Elvis Presley’s arms, you dreamt about what the two of you had done tonight.

Only in your dreams, you were confident to take things a step further, allowing Elvis to own you completely – body and soul.

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis headcanons #elvis presley headcanons #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis oneshot #elvis presley oneshot #tamwrites #requests

[sissylittlefeather]

@atleastpleasetelephone Hey friend!! Thank you so much!!! You sure can have some smut 😏. I hope you enjoy this filthy little ficlet.

Daddy Likes His Coat

Warnings: 18+ MINORS NO. DNI. Kissing, cussing, masturbation (f & m), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, public sex

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You've been with Elvis for almost a year now, and he knows how you can get sometimes, especially after a good show. So when you're getting on the plane and you grab his hand and pull him to you, he's not surprised to hear what you whisper in his ear.

"I need you..." He smiles, but shakes his head genially.

"No, baby, there's too many people on the plane tonight." You pout as you make your way to your seats. He goes all the way to the back by the bathroom.

"See! The bathroom is right there!" You're seated across from him facing him and the back of the plane. The charter plane is small, but big enough for there to be no one directly next to the two of you. Everyone else is in front of you. You stick your bottom lip out and beg. "Pleaseeee."

"Baby. No. Maybe when we land." He leans across to pat your knee and pulls out a book and starts to read. You look out the window for a bit and then get an idea. He doesn't even notice you wiggling in your seat.

All of a sudden something lands on his book right in the middle of where he was reading. He looks at it puzzled and then goes to pick it up. That's when he realizes it's your white lace panties in his hand. He looks up at you quickly and shuts his book, your panties still clutched in his fist. He has a devilish glint in his eyes.

"Honey, what-"

You spread your legs slowly, giving him a full view of your pussy under your short skirt. His eyes widen.

"What are you...?"

He trails off as you lick your fingers and move them down to your core. His mouth drops open a little as you begin to rub circles on yourself, biting your bottom lip to keep from moaning. You roll your hips forward into your hand.

"Mmm." He groans quietly and reaches forward to touch you. You use your knee to push his hand to the side.

"Uh-uh. You said there's too many people on the plane."

"Baby, please."

"Touch yourself, since that's what you made me do." He sighs deeply.

"You're a pain in the ass, sweetheart. You know that?"

"You love me." You close your eyes and moan softly as you slide a finger into yourself, pumping it in and out.

"God, I really do." His eyes are glued to what your hands are doing. He swallows hard and then stands up as much as he can in the small plane, yanking his jacket off. He sits back down and folds it and holds it in his lap, his hands buried somewhere underneath. You know him well enough to know that he's currently freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. A smirk crosses your lips as you watch him begin to stroke himself under his jacket, trying desperately not to react with his face.

"Shittt." He hisses and you quickly pull your hands back and close your legs as a stewardess walks over to you both.

"Mr. Presley, would you care for some water?" He's stopped moving, but his hand is still under his coat.

"Nope. Not tonight." He answers with a strained smile.

"Do you need anything?"

"Not anything you can give me. Thanks." She looks at him with a confused expression and then turns to walk back up the aisle, smiling at you as she passes.

"You're gonna be the death of me, doll." He goes back to moving his hand under his jacket. "Mm. C'mon honey, lemme see ya again."

You consider saying no, just to tease him, but you're too turned on to stop, so you spread your legs again and let your fingers trail down your front back to your center.

"There ya go, baby." He groans a little louder than he probably should. You have on a tank top with no bra under your coat, so you open it and pull your top down to give him a glimpse of your nipple.

"Mmm, that's so mean, baby."

"As mean as this?" You answer breathlessly as you move your fingers even faster over your clit bringing yourself to a very obvious orgasm. The waves of electric pleasure crest and break as your climax rushes through you. You bite your lip again and moan quietly and your hips buck while your eyes close. The image of you making yourself cum almost drives him over the edge.

"Goddamnit, woman."

He begins to pump himself faster, no longer trying to hide his facial expressions as his hand moves up and down his rock hard cock. He closes his eyes and makes a face that you recognize.

"Gonna make me ruin my coat, doll."

"That's right, daddy, cum for baby." Suddenly, he shakes his head and opens his eyes.

"No. I'm cumming inside you. That pussy is mine." He reaches forward with his free hand and grabs your arm dragging you into his lap. Everyone on the plane very clearly hears exactly what he says, but he no longer cares. You giggle as he slides you onto his dick and groans loudly.

"I thought there were too many people-"

"I don't give a fuck. Bounce." He lifts you by the waist and you move up and down on him. It only takes a few times before you feel him tense and buck up into you, filling you with his hot release.

"Oh, god, baby, yes." He moans as he shudders and relaxes. You feel his arms wrap around you and he leans against the back of your neck. "Fuck, honey, I love you."

He lifts you off of himself and pulls your skirt down, handing you your panties to put back on.

"I love you too." You lean in and kiss him gently and then turn to go back to your seat. He slaps your ass as he puts himself away. Bending down, you hand him his book from where it slid onto the floor during your activities. He spends the rest of the flight reading and you look out the window, fully satisfied.

The plane lands and you all make your way off. As you do, Joe looks at Elvis with his eyebrows raised. Elvis shakes his head quizzically.

"What? I really like this coat."

******

The End

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis presley smut #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfic #reader requests

[strangegutz]

You might join a devil cult of some evil heartthrob, like me!

bonus version under cut

wolf in sheep’s clothing

#heartbreak gulch #oc art #eddie ramirez #eddie black eyes #eddie #this was highly requested #song of the times: elvis fucking christ by the cramps

[missjadesfics]

“Looking for Trouble”

Austin!Elvis x Reader dividers: @cafekitsune @rookthornesartistry Request: Yes Summary: After Elvis is arrested for his rebellious defiance during 'Trouble,' his girlfriend, the reader, bails him out of jail. Warnings: smut 18+ MDNI, praise kink, unprotected p in v sex, wrap it before you tap it, thoughts of being parents, slight breeding kink, oral sex (f receiving), daddy kink Word Count: 2.4k Disclaimer: All rights for the Elvis film and Elvis's music belong to him and Presley Enterprises. Comments likes, and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx

Being the girlfriend of the new rock and roll sensation had its ups and downs. The Colonel would have preferred Elvis break up with Y/n and focus on his singing. But Elvis made it clear; he would date her no matter what anyone says. Y/n grew up with Elvis; his mother and hers were both pregnant at the same time. Y/n and Elvis were born a month apart, Elvis being older. When Vernon went to jail, Y/n’s mother spent every day comforting Gladys while Y/n kept little Elvis company while they played together. Elvis always told her he would become a superhero and save his father, taking him to the Rock of Eternity. When Y/n’s mother passed away, Y/n was only eight years old when Gladys and Vernon were given guardianship and custody of Y/n. Her mother had requested it; she knew the Presleys would care for and love Y/n like she was their own. As time passed, Y/n often indulged Elvis and his dreams, saying she would always be beside him. 

As they grew up, Elvis developed a love for singing and African-American music; he and Y/n listened to the music whenever they could. His southern voice turned into something charming and melodic in his teenage years, making Y/n swoon. So one day, Elvis recorded Arthur ‘Big Boy’ Crudrup’s “That’s All Right” at Sun Records; the owner, Sam Phillps, had his voice playing everywhere on radios and records. That is how the Colonel discovered him; he mistook Elvis for a black man, but when he learnt he wasn’t, Elvis would be a Louisana Hayride. The Colonel had successfully convinced Elvis to leave Sun Records and have the Colonel manage his music and his career. And that’s how Elvis ended up where he is today. He had a decision to make: be the new Elvis and make everyone happy. He had to give up the ‘vulgar and lewd music and dance movements’ or break the rules and deal with the consequences later.

“You know what? I think I’m gonna sing a song the Colonel ain’t expecting. I’m gonna show em’ the real Elvis tonight” Elvis adjusted his black jacket Y/n smiled, looking at her boyfriend in the mirror. “Well, honey, I’m looking forward to it.” She grabbed his red tie, making her way over to him. “You look very handsome, Mr. Presley,” she giggled. Elvis turned around, his blue eyes roaming her figure in her new dress as she put on and fixed his tie. “Satnin, you look as beautiful as ever. My pretty girl,” he smiled, holding her face and kissing her sweetly. Y/n moaned lightly into the kiss; her eyes fluttered closed. Elvis pulled away, brushing his nose on hers gently. Elvis chuckled, seeing her eyes still closed. “Am I that good, sweetheart?” he purred, his southern accent sending shivers through her body. Y/n bit her lip, nodding. “Perfect, as always, baby, “ she replied softly. Elvis breathed in before turning to look at himself again in the mirror. He smirked, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s waist and pulling her before him. “Okay, baby girl, time for me to cause some Trouble.” Elvis licked his lips, kissing her cheek Y/n gave him a knowing look. “What have you got planned, Mr Presley?” she raised a brow at his tone. Elvis laughed lightly, whispering, “You’ll see.” 

Y/n climbed out of the car as she helped Gladys and walked with her arm looped with hers as Veron walked with them to their seats behind the stage. Elvis stood in the centre, his guitar strapped around his shoulder, listening to the crowd of young men and women cheering for him. Y/n noticed they separated the black people with a rope, keeping them on one side. Y/n felt disgusted as she felt Gladys’s hand grip hers, a sad smile on her face. “I know, baby, they don’t understand. It’s all right, we know, you and Elvis. You both accept everyone for who they are and what they are. You are both different, my special babies. I wish your mama were here to see that, but she will be watching” She kissed Y/n’s head softly as Y/n nodded, smiling at Gladys as Elvis’ voice rang through the microphone. “There’s been a lot of talk about the new Elvis”, the crowd jeered in response. Elvis looked into the crowd and raised his hand. 

“And, of course, that other guy”, putting all his fingers down except his pinky finger and bending it jokingly. “You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog, cryin all the ti-” Elvis chuckled into the microphone; he looked up at the speakers, hearing a voice. “There’s a lot of people saying a lot of things. Of course, you gotta listen to the people you love” He turned quickly, glancing at the Colonel, who nodded. Elvis glanced over at Y/n, his smile boarding Y/n mouthed, “Listen to yourself” She blew him a kiss. Elvis’s blue eyes shined at her words; nodding, he held the microphone. “But someone special always reminds me that in the end, you gotta listen to yourself. So I want you to know those New York people ain’t gonna change me none!” Elvis removed his guitar. The Colonel looked confused, and he glanced at Y/n. He knew something was changing, but he just didn’t know what. Elvis walked back to the centre of the stage; he turned to his band. “Trouble”, he said, winking at Y/n; she realised ‘Okay, baby girl, time for me to cause some Trouble’ his earlier words played in her head. “I’m gonna show you what the real Elvis is like tonight!” He shouted, and the crowd cheered.

Elvis raised his hand as the band played the first cord. Elvis looked behind his arm, swinging down. “If you’re looking for Trouble”, the band played the song. Vernon shook his head. “No, no”, he moved in his seat. “You came to the right place. If you’re looking for trouble just look right in my face.” His hips and legs began to move slightly to the rhythm of the music. “I was born standing up, and talking back. My daddy was a green-eyed mountain jack” He raised his hands to his hair, his body swinging back and forth as the music gained momentum. Y/n felt her heart race, watching her man dance and sing, “Because I’m evil, my middle name is misery. Well, I’m evil, so don’t you mess around with me.” Elvis looked at the Colonel, tilting his head and signalling his words as a warning. 

As the song continued, the crowd grew crazier as Elvis, too, became entranced by his music and dancing on the stage. The Colonel ordered the police to remove Elvis from the stage. The danger grew as the crowd climbed over one another towards the stage. Elvis fought the police as the Colonel came over to the Presleys and Y/n as the fans began to riot against the police. “Uh, now would be a good time to return to the car” He chuckled nervously. Gladys gripped Y/n’s hand, pulling her to the car and seeing Elvis being pushed into a police car. “ELVIS!” Y/n shouted to her boyfriend, looking in alarm. “Y/n baby, go with mumma, okay, I’ll be alright!” he told her Y/n nodded in understanding. Climbing into the car, the driver drove away as Y/n looked back, seeing the chaos erupt rapidly red fireworks appearing in the sky. 

Elvis was kept in jail overnight for his lewd concert; sitting in the cold cell, his knee bounced anxiously. He heard Y/n’s sweet voice ring through the hall. “I have bail money for Mr Presley”, she said to the officers, who reluctantly allowed Elvis to bail as he waited at the door. Tapping the bars, he ran through the open door, running to Y/n and embracing her tightly. “Oh baby, thank you!” He exclaimed, running out of the station to Elvis’s car and quickly driving back to Graceland. When the car engine turned off, Elvis took Y/n in his arms, carrying her inside the house. Closing the door shut quietly, the young lovebirds ran up the stairs into their bedroom. 

Elvis locked his door and pulled Y/n in a passionate kiss. Elvis removed his black jacket and red tie. Y/n unzipped her dress, hurriedly throwing it over the chair. Elvis moaned his Adam’s apple bobbing, seeing Y/n in her pretty black lace underwear. His favourite. Elvis admired his girl, his feet carrying him over slowly. Y/n tilted her head slightly upwards to look into his eyes. There wasn’t much height difference, but they both loved that Elvis still had to lean slightly to kiss her. “So beautiful” His husky voice came out like a purr. Elvis swiped his thumb along her bottom lip. His palm cupped her face, and his face lit up at her doe eyes, watching him intently. Elvis kissed Y/n softly, his hand dropping from her cheek; he leaned down and picked her up. Carrying her to his large bed and laying her down, her hands tugged at his black dress shirt. Elvis unbuttoned it slowly. Teasing Y/n, he smirked, seeing her thighs rubbing together, a helpless moan falling from her lips. Her eyes glittered with desire, and her finger reached around her back to unclasp her bra, the straps falling down her shoulders. Throwing the garment away, Elvis’s chest rose and fell heavily, his hands unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Y/n bit her lip, her eyes following Elvis fall to his stomach on the bed, nudging her legs apart.

Y/n dragged her hand down her body and raked them through Elvis’s hair; he grinned at the sensation. His eyes fell closed, kissing her inner thighs; he groaned, feeling her tug on his hair. His hands gripped her last piece of clothing Y/n giggled at his enthusiasm, helping him. “One of these days, baby, Imma just gonna rip em’ right up”, he growled, his voice dropping an octave Y/n sighed. “Baby, don’t go rippin’ anything”, she whined before moaning loudly, feeling Elvis’s tongue on her pussy. Her arousal dripped down onto the bed; Elvis lapped eagerly, his hands intertwined with Y/n’s on either side of her body. “Elvis!” Y/n gasped, her body tensing at the feeling of his tongue delving between her wet folds and sucking her swollen pearl. Elvis Presley was very talented with his tongue, not just gifted in to help his singing, but pussy eating too. Y/n would give him a crown and title for his expertise in providing her waves of pleasure. He could live in between her legs; if he could, he often said it; he’d be so busy he would mumble in her pussy. “I’d die a happy man buried between your legs, little mama. A real happy man” Y/n would always shudder at his words. Y/n was brought back to reality by hearing Elvis growl “Good girl, lettin daddy take care of you”, Y/n moaned, arching her hips. “Always for you, Daddy” Elvis’s blue eyes darted up, seeing Y/n’s face twisted in pleasure, her mouth open, strings of his favourite sounds leaving her lips. 

Elvis continued his ministrations. Y/n’s high-pitched whines were a sign that she was close. Elvis knew her like the back of his hand; he could feel her legs begin to shake. Elvis removed one of his hands from hers, entering two fingers inside her, feeling her inner walls clench around his fingers immediately. Y/n’s free hand combed through his ink-black hair, tugging on the roots. “Elvis, honey, please, I’m close”, she cried out Y/n gasped sharply, her body jolting. Elvis curled his fingers, his fingers increasing pace, working Y/n through her climax. Elvis moaned, not letting a drop go to waste, ensuring he was savouring her.

Crawling up her body, Elvis removed his boxer briefs, kissing her chest tenderly, working his way up her neck along her jaw, finally landing on her lips. Elvis breathed heavily, staring into her eyes. “You want me to use protection, baby?” His soft voice made her heart flutter Y/n smiled as she shook her head. “No, I want to feel all of you. I need to feel all of you,” She whispered. Elvis smiled gently; he kissed her cheek delicately before hissing lightly, feeling her walls around him. Y/n moaned and let out a sigh as her arms and legs wrapped around Elvis’s body, pulling him closer to her. “That’s it, little mama, take me so well.” He praised, rocking his hips slowly; the raw feeling of her velvety walls around his cock left him breathless. Normally, they would use protection, but he silently thanked Y/n for changing it this time and not wanting to use protection. He has always loved the idea of being a father; he wants little ones to run around Graceland and play in the grass on sunny days. Sitting inside watching TV on rainy days. The thought of Y/n being a mother. He internally groaned at the image. 

Elvis didn’t realise his thrusts grew harder in pace with his desire fueling him. Y/n writhed underneath him, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been thinkin’. Thinkin’ bout’ you and me with a lil one,” he grunted Y/n’s eyes open, studying Elvis’s face contorted in pleasure. She blinked softly, feeling her walls flutter around his cock at the thought of being a mother. “Mhmm” She nodded in response. Elvis held her face. “You like that idea, have ourselves a baby?” He moaned, kissing her throat Y/n whimpered. “Want a baby, Elvis, please.” she begged. Her boyfriend breathed heavily, his head resting against hers. “I love you so much, Y/n. My special girl,” Elvis smiled, his blue eyes filled with love and lust. Y/n’s eyes mirrored his, and both smiled, "I love you too, Elvis." Elvis’s thrusts became uneven. Holding Y/n’s hand beside her head, both felt their peaks crash together. Elvis kissed Y/n; their loud moans muffled, his hips slowing down. Pulling away from the kiss, the young couple giggled lightly. Elvis slowly climbed off Y/n and pulled her to his chest. Kissing her head, he wrapped his arms around her body. Elvis pulled the silk covers over their bodies, and both quietly basked in the afterglow together. 

“Thanks for bailing me out of jail, baby. I didn’t really think that through, to be honest.” He let out a hearty laugh. Y/n kissed his chest and leaned on her arm; Y/n gave him a mischievous glint in her eye accompanied by a smirk, whispering against his mouth,

“Oh honey, it was really no Trouble”

#austin butler #smut #fluff #oneshots #austin!elvis #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader smut #elvis presley #request #austin butler x reader smut #austin butler x reader #my fic #missjadesfics

[musicalfilm]

it was a lovely day... for a little while.

king creole (1958) // dir. michael curtiz

#filmedit #oldhollywoodedit #classicfilmedit #classicfilmsource #classicfilmblr #fyeahmovies #filmgifs #uservintage #cinemaspast #elvis presley #king creole #1950s #1958 #michael curtiz #carolyn jones #endless list of musical films #m: king creole (1958) #* #*gifs #*request #bw

[mahg-stuff]

Hi. Can I request a big daddy elvis (late 70s) in which he and female reader are having an argument and he says something really mean so she heads into the bedroom and cries. He goes into the bedroom to apologize and then make out. Smut, detailed if you can and also some aftercare. Thanks

Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡

Kiss'n make it better

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Word count: 6.4k (quick) Summary: Bde grows stuffy as he witnesses you playing a card game with the guys, but not only that, you are in your delicate bed attire while you do it. Pairing: (1976)bd!elvis x afab!reader Warnings: 18+!, smut, p in v, elvis finally fully takes the reader, cherry cream pie (if you know what I mean...), kissing whilst bodily fluids are present on the mouth, tasting of bodily fluids, playing around with spit?oral fixation?, mention of elvis’ medications/pill use & dr. nick (im sorry), elvis’ standards for his women, toxicity, once again elvis being volatile, use of the word daddy, & of course fluff + baby talk!!

───

AN: Hello there! I was off and on while writing this since I was eager to let it out soon bc I felt I’d left the anon hanging for too long so, certain areas may seem rushed/lack context but I did my best with the details! I hope it’s not a bother, but overall I enjoyed writing this little piece. Anywho, my dear anon I hope you are pleased with this! And to the rest of you loves, enjoy! ♡ (keep the requests coming!!😚)

- pls excuse any errors, your girl got tired half way through cleaning it up 🥹💋

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Elvis was, as of now, getting his day-by-day measurements of meds from Dr. Nick within the master bathroom in his room. In the meantime, you held up in his bed, twiddling your thumbs as you waited, you both had just woken up. He would always make sure to do it in a different room, given that you had eventually told him that you didn't enjoy seeing everything they put in him. When you witnessed firsthand how much his body had to ingest, you expressed your concern, but he waved you off, saying everything was always under control.

At some point, you stopped showing concern upfront to him because it had resulted in the first argument between the two of you, however, you'd unconsciously always be pinching away at your arm's flesh as you worried about him. You were still relatively new to his lifestyle, but you were gradually adapting.

Things were taking quite a while, so you began wandering around his room. You'd only been together for a few months now, so you were still trying to settle in. Elvis asked you to move in right away, and you soon found out he didn't like being left alone. As you moved around the room, you were still in your night slip. It was a look that he found especially appealing. You tip-toed barefoot to the door, peeking outside, and then back over to the closed bathroom door in the bedroom. 

You heard them mumbling inside and decided, Why not go downstairs? 

Making your entrance to the living room and taking in more glances of the house you hadn't paid much attention to before, your eyes shot up towards the voices in the kitchen. As you peered into the kitchen, you saw two of his guys sitting there chatting with some cards in their hands. They took notice of your presence and glanced over at you, their eyes lingering on your attire. Going quite unnoticed by you. 

One clears his throat.

"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?" 

You shrug, not really knowing what you need or want, but feeling a bit restless. 

"No, just bored waiting on El," you reply absentmindedly. 

One of the guys chuckles and nudges the other, whispering something to him. You catch a snippet of their conversation and wonder if they're talking about you.

"What's so funny?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. 

The guys exchange glances before one of them speaks up, struggling to find the right words. 

"Oh, nothin', just...you know...we were just talkin' 'bout how...um...how fashionable you look today." 

You give them a skeptical look, not fully convinced by their compliment. 

"Really? They're just my pajamas, the first thing I found in the closet last night," you admit with a sheepish shrug as you look down at your delicate garments. 

They both burst into laughter, causing you to giggle along. The guys exchange knowing glances, struggling to contain their amusement at your naivety. Being new in Elvis' life and feeling a bit clueless around the guys sometimes—I mean, you'd never been surrounded by so many men before, so it was uncommon for you to catch their brash ways.

 

One of the guys begins talking, "Since you're bored, why don't ya join us? We're playin’ a card game." 

You happily agree and take a seat at the table. They explain the rules to you as one of them shuffles the deck of cards. The game soon progresses, and the guys bring out their competitive sides, teasing each other and making playful taunts. Even though they might’ve been acting a little abruptly, it was clear that they were enjoying themselves. Amidst the banter, one of the guys turns to you with a mischievous grin. 

"Hey, watch out, I wouldn't want ya to get too confused with all these cards. It might be a bit too much for a girl to handle," he says snarkily. 

You titter and shake your head, clearly letting the comment go over and past your head. 

"I can handle." 

You say it humbly.

***

Elvis, grumbling his way downstairs to look where you'd wandered off, stops at the bottom of the stairway as he hears his precious girl's laughter from the kitchen. He stalks quietly towards the doorframe of the kitchen, there he sees you sitting pretty with his men. He scans your body until he gets to your bare, wriggling sooties that are dangled just above the ground in the chair. Elvis clenches his fists, feeling his irritation rise at the sight of you playing with the guys.

As he watches, he can't help but notice the unkempt yet alluring exterior you possess. Your tousled hair and streaked makeup from the night before only seem to enhance your beauty, giving you a tempting appeal that could captivate those around you. He had set certain expectations for you, and seeing you in this compromising situation with the guys confirms that you were not fulfilling them. He storms in, his footsteps echoing through the room as he confronts the scene before him. 

"Darlin', you know bedder than to be gallivantin' 'round in your night attire with these fellas." He narrows his eyes, his southern accent thickening as he speaks.

Your head quickly turned to that familiar gruff voice, his appearance matching the roughness in his tone. There he stood, portly and only in a silk robe, a region of dark hair trailing down his navel from the open slit and his luscious sideburns framing his face. His noir hair, slightly disheveled from a restless night, completed the picture of a man who demanded attentiveness. As you caught his gaze, you could see a mix of disappointment and fret in his eyes. You instinctively straightened up, feeling a twinge of shame creeping into your conscience for some reason as you looked down at your attire and then back at him. 

"Well, I thought it'd be okay. I mean, I do live here now. Shouldn't I be comfortable, El?" You voiced cunningly, not purposefully trying to provoke him but unable to resist the urge to justify yourself. 

But there was an inimitable standard he held you to, one that required impeccability and grace. 

"Goddammit!" He started. 

"No man's woman should be 'round men in such whorey showin' garments. 'Specially not mah women!" 

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his strong reaction. The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew tense, and you could feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down on you. 

His pride was unexpected for you. 

As you searched for words to respond, his intense gaze never wavered, making you feel insecure and exposed. 

"W-Well, the guys think otherwise!" You spoke aloud as your throat tightened. Well, at least you thought they didn't find your attire whorey—a word Elvis had introduced to you when he saw an outfit you picked out while shopping with him. 

Elvis glared over at them, and they both quickly stood up from their positions, some cards falling off the table as they did so. 

"That right?" 

"N-No Ep, 'course not." They stood there longer than they should have. 

"The hell y'all still doin' standin' here, for?! Go on an' do sumn then." Elvis spoke sternly as he pointed, his robe falling more open with his motion. 

The guys hastily scampered away, not wanting to further incur Elvis' anger. You look at Elvis, noticing his neglected appearance and glazed eyes. Nervous, you place your cards down, your eyebrows puckering in disarray. 

"What was that, Elvis?" you ask softly, but your voice is filled with slight perplexity. 

"They didn't do anything." You squeaked. 

"Didn't do anyhtin'." He scoffed under his breath. He shook his head and met your gaze again. 

"Matter uh fact, the hell were you thinkin' wonderin' off?" His words were a bit slurred. 

"Know all yur attention should be on me, 'n only me." Elvis' words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of fury and vulnerability. 

You could sense an ache behind his harsh tone, and it struck a chord within you. 

"Elvis." You delicately said his name, the concern evident in your voice.

But before you could continue, he raised his voice again, his drooping eyes glaring. 

"Kept mah eyes off ya for just uh moment, den I find you playin' bimbo wit' 'em fellas." 

Your heart sank as Elvis' words echoed in the room. 

This wasn't your Elvis. 

Your bottom lip quivered as you stood up from your seat, covering your face with one hand as you moved to leave the room. 

"The hell are ya goin'." He says this as he tries to stop you, but you pull away forcefully and hastily walk upstairs. 

Elvis hears your faint sniffle from the hallway, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. He paced around, mumbling words to himself as he held his forehead, trying to make sense of what just happened. 

It was clear that his head wasn't in the right place. 

***

As Elvis continued to pace, he barely grasps the impact of his words and considers the hurt he may have caused. 

"Baby," he muffles to himself as he looks around. 

He rubs his eyes and begins to walk towards the staircase. 

"Baby." He muffled again, as if he were whispering a plea into the empty space. 

He reaches the top step and hesitates, unsure of whether to knock on the closed bedroom door or barge right in. 

"B-Baby, a-a-ah wannas come in," he says gently in his gruff voice. 

"W-Wanna come in." Elvis stands in front of the door, his voice quivering with desperation. 

His babyish tone reveals the depth of his regret. Your ears perk up on the other side of the door, straining to catch every word. You can sense the turmoil in his voice, the vulnerability, and the longing.

It's a side of him you were weak for, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Slowly, you rise from the bed, your footsteps barely audible as you make your way to the door. With a shaken hand, you turn the knob and open the door, revealing Elvis standing there, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. He takes in your appearance—your tear stained cheeks, red, fuzzy nose, and the slight puffiness of your eyes. His face softens with concern, and without a word, he pulls you into a tight embrace. Your face buried into his exposed, hairy, warm torso through the opening of his robe. 

Feverishly, he brings his large palms up to either side of your face and pulls your face upwards. Taking in your babyfaced features. Your damp lashes flutter as you meet his gaze. 

"A-Ah made my little 'un cry." he mumbles as he grazes the pad of his thumb under your eye. 

"Y-Ya know ah ain't meant what I said back dere," he continues, his voice filled with veracity. 

"M-My temper… mah words came out wrong. A-Ah, wudnit wha I meant—", he trails off just before he wavers off, trying to focus his eyesight all of a sudden. 

As his eyelids droop, a gentle sigh escapes his lips. You can see the drowsiness etched across his weathered face, the lines deepening in the dim light of the room. 

It always tortured you when you saw him like this. 

You noticed it was one of the many effects the pills had on him, before starting him up, they'd slow him down first. 

Even with his abrupt weariness, you recognize that sincerity in his voice and the sorryness in his slumped eyes. You reached out and took his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it, offering a silent reassurance that you understood what he was trying to get out. 

You cared deeply for him, so forgiving him always came in a hurry for you.

***

As you both stood there, the grogginess began to fade, and his eyes soon became more and more focused. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. He gave your cheek a gentle squeeze. His gaze lingered on your face as he continued to graze his thumb gently on your cheek. 

"Let me m-make it up t-ta mah sweet girl, hmm." He says it so softly with that drawl of his.

As you listen to his soft voice, filled with tenderness and warmth, it becomes evident that he was speaking to you with the same affection one would reserve for a baby. One of his traits you had gotten used to and valued thoroughly. Your cheeks fill with warmth. He holds you by the waist, turning you over, and fully enters the bedroom with you. Shutting the door, he then leads you to the bed, helping you sit down on the edge. Elvis sits down beside you, and you feel the bed sink from his weight. 

He turns your face over to him, and he places a hand on your cheek. He begins caressing your face ever so lightly, as if you were made of spun glass. 

"Kiss'n make it better." He mumbles pouty-lippedly as his thumb runs over your lips. 

You stare into his hollow eyes, nodding, as he begins to push his thumb into your small mouth. Politely opening your mouth for him, the taste of his skin lingers on your tongue as his thumb explores the contours of your mouth. You both hold each other's gaze, and you lightly suckle on it, watching his eyes light up at your action. He gently brings his thumb out, a string of saliva dribbling down your lip. Elvis smudges your saliva all around your soft pout, making your lips appear glossy, then brings his thumb up to his lips to suck off your slobber. As you both continue your intimate encounter, the air around you seems to grow heavier. His fingers then work their way down your torso, tracing your dainty body. With a famished mutter, he slides his hand beneath your slip, teasingly grazing over your soft, small chest, giving one of your nipples a tug. You can't help but whimper at his action.

And want grows between you, feeling a surge of heat run from your face down to your toes. 

"C'mere, let ol’ daddy kiss ya," he leans in, capturing your lips in a fervent, persistent kiss. 

The taste of him fills your palate as he slips his tongue inside your pretty mouth. You find yourself feeling fuzzy in the rush of the moment, willingly giving into his actions. His large hands begin gripping your small waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. His supple kisses had always been tender and gentle, but this one was different. It left you almost breathless. His touch was heavy, and you found yourself slipping in the heat of the moment. Your slip rises upwards at his action, revealing the pair of tiny matching ruffled shorts. 

He breaks the kiss for a moment, his pillowy lips glistening. His eyes lock onto yours—a look of want. Elvis' hefty hand goes down to your upper thigh, and he grazes the fabric of your shorts. 

"Take 'em off, 'ittle." He rasps quietly, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

Your breath hitches with a half-laugh. "Kay." You gently get off the bed and look over at him as he keenly stares at you with his still-glazed-over eyes. 

A look you may never get used to. 

You began pulling down at the hem of your waistband until the fabric hit the ground, being completely bare underneath. 

While the length of your slip fell just enough to cover your most delicate parts, he whispered, "Lemme see her." 

His voice is playful as he motions for you to come closer.

You take a step toward him. He reaches out and gently tugs at your hip, his thumb rubbing your hipbone, sending a muzzy feeling to your belly. With his other hand, he reaches over to the hem of the fabric, pulling it up—he throbs between his legs.

From his view, he could see all of you. Your narrow hips and thighs and the smallest patch of curls that covered your pussy. The little crease in the middle—so sweet, you were puffy, and sticky just from his kisses. You looked over at his garb—his robe now fully undone from all his movement, also nothing underneath. You took in as the section of his body hair went from his pudgy chest to his soft belly, which hung just barely over his waistline, and then turned into thick curls at his mound. His corpulent and hard, leaky cock presently standing tall just for you against his paunch. You gazed at the ridge of his pretty, purplish, rosy tip weep as it peeked from his foreskin.

Suddenly, you jolted as you felt his thumb at your swollen clit, a splotchy pink filling your cheeks. His touch was gentle yet firm, his fingers perfectly caressing your sensitive nub. You couldn't help but whimper, the lovely sound escaping your pursed lips as your hips instinctively bucked against his digit. 

"Ain't nothin' more purdy than seein' you all pink 'n warmed up. Could spend all day thumbin' away at that ‘dorable clit uh yours." He babbled as he applied more pressure and quickened the pace of his movements. 

Making you even more rosy. 

You could feel the heat building between your legs, the ache for release becoming almost unbearable. Every swipe of his thumb seemed to bring you closer to the edge, pushing you towards the brink of ecstasy. Your back began to arch as you leaned into his touch, but just as you were almost there, he pulled his thumb away. You let out a frustrated whimper, desperately wanting him to continue, then you went to cup yourself until he swiftly stopped you. 

"Dun cha get greedy on me now," he whispered, his voice coated with directness and a hint of humor. 

You couldn't help but pout, your need for satisfaction overwhelmed your senses. You ached. He had never stopped on the brink of your release like this before. His hand left your trembling body, resulting in you feeling empty and yearning for more. You watched as he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting the remnants of your sweet desire, a sly smile playing on his lips. The rosiness in your cheeks seems to grow darker with his action.

"Ah can't have ya fallin' apart jus yet," he murmured, his voice low. 

You looked at him doe-eyed as you clamped your legs, standing there. 

"Little 'un." Elvis whispered as he reached out for a hand. 

"Idenit time for ya to blossom," he continued as he pulled you closer, his warm breath hitting your cheek. "'ittle flower of yours needs ta bloom." Elvis gave you a nod as he spoke and guided you. 

"Bloom," you repeated as you held his strong gaze, and he began helping you lay on the bed. 

"Mhm, correct baby." He cooed as he helped you lie down. 

When you finally understood what he had said, your heart seemed to race. Staring up at the mirror above you on the ceiling, you took in as you laid delicately on his silk bedding. You began recalling the past nights and days of glancing up at yourself while Elvis rutted against your tummy when he cuddled you until he came, or when he'd only do little more than barely let the tip of his cock pierce your tiny hole—but never more than that. 

Now, he indicated that he wanted to take things further. You were both a little afraid and excited by it. Even so, you were genuinely more willing than ever. It made you rub your legs together thinking about it. You would constantly pester him for more, but he would tell you that it wasn't the right moment and that he knew when it would be. Thinking of his words from earlier, you thought maybe this would be his way of making it better after he'd lashed out. Maybe, he wanted to make it up to you by fully fulfilling your needs. You beamed at the thought.

Lost in your little mind, you were interrupted as you felt the bed sink next to you.

There he lay, still in his loose, silky garb, fully open, his hairy manliness laying solid against his belly while his balls were perfectly nestled below his shaft. You looked over at him as he began lying on his side to face you. His jawline was soft and his cheeks full, adding to the suppleness of his overall appearance. His overgrown sideburns adding to his rugged allure. The word ‘mesmerizing’ repeating in your head.

"Rest on yur side f'me, baby." You began turning over for him, but before you could, he stopped you—he saw the mild unease in your eyes. 

His hand cradled the side of your cheek as your eyes stared into his. However, he couldn't help but smile, thinking your muddled face looked adorable. 

"Hers dudden needs to be afraid." He whispered softly and patted your head now. 

With each light pat on your head, his warmth enveloped you, making you feel comforted in his presence. You smiled back at him softly, it sort of surprised you when he caught it. 

"H-Her knows." You whispered back in the same way he spoke to you. 

It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.

He leaned in, placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, and then motioned for you to rest on your side. Such a baby, you thought as you gave his chubby face one last glance. As you shifted onto your side, he scooted in closer, so he was spooning you, his round stomach pressing into you. You felt the hardness of his length up against your lower back, feeling the warmth radiating off as it throbbed against the thin fabric of your slip. You couldn't deny the growing ache between your legs, yearning for his touch and for him to take control. 

Elvis began lifting the hem of your garment, exposing your bare, pretty, round backside to him. His hand rested on the curve of your hip, his touch both firm and gentle. A shiver ran down your spine as his palm traced delicate patterns on your skin, sending those funny feelings through your body. You felt him move your leg a bit, so your pussy lips were peeking out between your thighs from his view. You felt him pulsing along your rear now, slick already forming at your petals. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. You heard him snicker behind you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Elvis grabbed his thick shaft in one hand and brought it between your thighs, your slick and his precum mixing into one as he rubbed the ridge of his cock along your lips. 

Eagerly, you try to slide down, so his tip pushes up towards your entrance. 

"Careful, too big for yuh to take so fast," he warns as you bare down on his leaky tip. 

You move back unconsciously, and the head of cock grazes at your swollen clit causing you to shudder. 

Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit." 

Elvis is quite amused by this, and he tittered as he leaned into your neck for a quick peck. 

You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, "Baby, needa take time t'stretch ya out properly." 

He trails his fingers along your inner thighs, teasingly rubbing circles on your sensitive heat. Your body reacts, flushing with chills and impatience. You can feel yourself clenching at nothing. Elvis raises the leg you weren’t resting on with his other arm, and you blush at how vulnerable you seem in the pose. He moves the hand he was massaging you with toward your mouth. You understood what he meant, of course. Carefully, you used your hand to hold the back of his large one as you carefully spit into it. You watch as Elvis gruffly giggles at your compliance as you gaze up at the mirror, his eyes peeking over you as he watches his hand lower back down.

Bringing his hand back down to your throbbing core, now slick with both your juices and saliva. His fingers glide along your folds, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. As his thumb brushes against your clit, a shudder runs through your body, aching for more. You arch your back, silently begging for his touch to become more demanding, more intense. His finger begins to pry at your snug cunt, slipping inside with ease from all your wetness. You feel him begin to inch a second finger inside of you, stretching you further and filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, his fingers deeper than you were used to. He would only nag at your hole in the past. You whimper as he starts to move his fingers in and out—a slow and deliberate rhythm. Your hips instinctively press down on his hand, seeking more friction and more of his lengthy fingers. You can't help but squeal, the sound escaping your lips as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting a sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. You try closing your legs, but he still holds one up. He feels your leg shift and hears your cute squeal. Elvis lets go, letting your leg rest down, with a snicker as he looks over at you with a mischievous grin. Soothing his palm up and down against your thigh, he leaned to kiss your upper arm. 

"Ya kay, 'ittle?" he whispered in his southern drawl. 

You nod, unable to form words, as the sensations overwhelm you. 

Slowly, he removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you aching for more. But before you have a chance to say anything, Elvis is already positioning himself between your legs from behind. He catches a glimpse of your sweet little gaping hole that was dripping with want. He begins rubbing the ridge of his cock along your pussy, you feel his chest vibrate behind you from a low groan. His tip begins to ease in as he coos in your ear slowly. Without delay, he plunges inside you halfway, his lip curling at your tightness. You wail as he bucks his hips further, and you try to get away due to the harsh feeling of the big stretch. He carefully moves the arm he was resting on to go under your waist to hold you from your firm stomach as he hitches up the rest of your babydoll. Pulling you towards him, his gut pressing into you more. 

Taking a glance at your clenched fists and shut eyes, he grumbles, "S'okay baby, breathe." 

You gulp down and gasp, "'S't-too much." 

"Needa bit more little 'un." He croons and brings his empty hand to swipe at your clit from the front in order to break you in with more ease. 

With a final buck of his hips, he fills your sweet cunt completely, taking him all in. You cry out at the forceful pinch, your hand gripping at his hand that held you from your tummy. Elvis grunts loudly when you clench at his cock. 

"M-Mah god, baby, let loose f'me. You'll break me off wit' all tha squeezin'." He blurts out, his voice strained with pleasure and urgency.

Your body trembles against his, and he continues to swipe at your tender nub, wanting to bring any type of pleasure to you right now. Elvis glanced up at your face, a tear dribbling down from the corner of yours. He leaned in, kissing it away. Gently opening your glossy eyes, you look up towards the mirror, taking in the way you were both at last bound. His robe was still hanging loosely on his body, and his hair was tousled as he pressed his face into your nape. As you gripped him with your hand, you felt him grab hold of it and start pulling it down to your heat. Placing it between your thighs, where you and him connected, you traced his weighty balls over with your small hand. Indicating he was practically balls deep inside your dear little hole. 

"Yuh feel him inside ya." He whispered airily into your nape, the bass of his voice rumbling against your back. 

You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of shyness and alertness. You nodded, unable to find the words to respond, as you focused on the sensation of him filling you completely. His hand remained on yours, guiding your movements as you continued to explore the intimate connection between your bodies. Your digits now covered by both yours and his fluids. Elvis let his hand loose and moved it over to your waist, both of his arms now holding you in a spoon position. As the initial sting began to fade and pleasure took its place, you began moving, slowly your movements against him became more confident. Each motion became braver as desire continued to build between you both. Your whimpers got louder, and you felt the hairs on your nape stand as you heard a little huff come from Elvis behind you. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breath warm against your skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Pulling himself out slightly and then bucking into you again, causing you to let out a high-pitched moan as you experienced the overwhelming sensation for the first time. A dance of pain and pleasure intertwined within you. You were sure a trickle of blood had stained the satin sheets beneath you both as you felt the warm wetness building between you two. You were too busy taking in the feeling of his hardness inside you, he noticed as he peeked up at the mirror and saw you lying there with your small mouth gaping and your hand buried between your thighs where he had left it. 

"Touch yuh'self sweetheart." He grunted into your ear as he strained himself from moving his hips too harshly, his grip on your waist still firmly in his arms.

You complied, your fingers danced over your sensitive folds, slick with arousal, and maybe more, until they found your swollen clit. As you began to rub circles around it, your moans grew louder and more dire, echoing through the room. The mirror gave you a clear view of your own flushed face, your eyes filled with desire and vulnerability. The way he watched you, his dark eyes smoldering with lust, only fueled the fire burning within you. Every movement caused the robe to sway gently, revealing hints of his luscious curves beneath. As your fingers continued their rhythmic dance upon your clit, you couldn't help but imagine his hands—those strong and skilled hands—taking over. The thought of his touch, his fingers tracing the same patterns you were now creating, made your toes wriggle. Your breath hitched as you quivered as the warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen became more and more unbearable. His thrusts became more vigorous, matching the intensity building within you. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans mingling with his low grunts. As he maintained his relentless pace, you surrendered yourself completely to what your body was feeling. The tension in your body coiled tighter and tighter until, finally, with one strong thrust, you unraveled into a state of euphoria on his cock. Your body trembled with sheer bliss as he continued to move inside you, he watched as your pretty face contorted and your blush deepened. 

"O-Oh god." You whined loudly, tightening around him, and the throbbing of his girthy cock became even more pronounced. 

His grip on your hips tightened as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, looking for his own release. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you moan prettily but uncontrollably. He glared over at you, bringing one hand up to grasp your jaw, his thumb once again finding its way into your mouth.

"N-Not so loud baby. Ain't want no 'un else hearin' ya gone like this, only me." He spoke between each heavy breath, sounding imposing. 

You nodded, unable to say any words. 

His thumb pressed against your tongue, silencing your moans as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. The room was filled with the sound of skin pushing against skin, blending with your muffled cries of pleasure. You felt your ears grow hotter as his grunts turned into gruff whines, it made you wonder how such a man could make such pretty sounds. He pressed into you harder, the suppleness of his hair-filled belly now squished into your lower back. Elvis' grip on you toughens under you, his fingers digging into the skin of your tummy as he pulls you closer, seeking an even deeper connection. His other hand now filled with your drool. Watching as his lip was now curled, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his beautiful expression slipping into that o-face of his through the mirror. With one final thrust, he let out a garish whine, emptying himself inside of your now-tamed pussy, filling you completely with his essence. You couldn't help but muffle a sob and bite down on his thumb as you felt his scorching seed paint your walls. 

He was still so far buried inside you as he let out heavy sighs. Elvis slowly began to withdraw his upper body from you, looking down at the slight space between his belly and your back, shifting his hips slowly to pull out, the base of his cock streaked with your pure blood. He paused as he felt your tongue pushing at his thumb and looked over, your eyes were watery. 

He withdrew his large hand, you turned your head over to him, the position putting a little discomfort on your neck as he was still spooning you. You were in awe of his blushed face and matted, lush hair sticking to his forehead from all his sweat. Bringing the hand you still held between your thighs over to hold the side of his face, your eyes widened as you focused on the redness of your blood on your digits, which had now smudged a bit on his cheek. Elvis took in your expression and glanced over at your small hand against his cheek, he snickered. Grabbing ahold of it, he brought it over to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss and even a subtle lick. Your purity now smudged along his soft lips. 

"A fine 'ittle flower 'as bloomed," he mumbled as he leaned his face into you. 

Your heart raced as his lips pushed against yours gently. The taste of his kiss, a mixture of your blood and his own essence, sent warmth down your spine. He steadily pulled away, enjoying the fact that your lips were stained right along with his. 

It left you brain-scattered and your hind eyes in a fuzzy state.

You were brought back when you felt him pulling his practically flaccid cock out of you. You winced as a dull ache shot through your body. Quickly sensing soreness, but a satisfied, weak smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing he'd finally gone completely with you. You stiffened as the warmth of his spew slowly oozed out of your snug, bruised hole. 

Elvis' view was a delight, he thought, watching as the scarlet milky mess glazed your puffed-up pussy lips, running down your inner thigh. Slumbering on your back now, your babydoll still pushed up but remained covering your small chest. 

But before you could turn to fully face him, you panicked as he stood up from the bed abruptly. 

"E-Elvis," you sputtered out, even reaching your hand out for him. 

He ignored your plea as he hurriedly walked towards the bathroom. His footsteps echoed in the silence, and you suddenly felt anxious. Moments later, he emerged with a damp towel in his hand. As he approached you, he saw the look on your face as you laid on your back. 

"Hey, what's wit' da worried eyes baby," he asked gently while gently leaning over at you. 

You still felt the pang of fret in your chest as Elvis leaned over you, his concern evident in his eyes. 

"I-I just got scared. Thought you w-were leaving," you admitted, your voice shaky. 

Elvis' expression softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair off your face. 

"Aww, don' worry, sweetheart. Am here now, ain't goin' anywhere," he reassured you, his voice smooth and reassuring in his drawl. 

His touch was comforting, and you felt yourself relax under his calm presence. 

As his hand lingered on your cheek, he spoke again. "Ah's needs ta clean my little girl now, kay." 

You nodded as Elvis stood in front of you while you lay splayed on the bed. He softly lifted your legs and began to gently wipe away the sticky residue, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His sunken eyes met yours briefly, a glimmer of tenderness, before he focused back on cleaning you up. You flinched as he swiped at your tender bud, and he couldn't help but grin. Finishing up, he tossed the used rag aside. Elvis had always been thorough in his caretaking when it came to you. As he gently began tugging your delicate top down to cover you, he paused and scrunched it up, revealing your small, supple chest and your soft pink meek nipples. 

Leaning down to give both of your petite mounds delicate kisses, "Almost forgot 'bout 'em sweet lil' things," he muffled as he kissed your warm skin. 

You found yourself giggling as you ran a hand through his tousled-up hair. One of the things he had made you become—a giggler. 

He stood back up and fixed your babydoll fully now as he smiled at you.

"All done, my little 'un," he whispered softly, his voice filled with pride and adoration. 

Collapsing beside you, his hand tenderly stroked your hair, whispering, "We'll get tha rest uh us cleaned up later." 

He then continued as you moved over to fully face him, his robe now imperfectly tied. "Needa hold ya darlin’, ah know how emotional you puny things can be after experiencin' this kinda thing." 

You snuggled closer to him with a giggle, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. The tubbiness of him being all the more cozy. As you both basked in each other, you felt the palm of his hand smooth down at your lower abdomen. 

"Yuh sore?" His voice held that babyish tone. 

"Bits," you mumbled as your cheek rested against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

His hand continued to caress your belly, his touch gentle. “Love her lots,” he suddenly blurted and leaned in to give your forehead a kiss. 

You gazed up at him, leaning in to kiss the fullness between his neck and chin. “Loves daddy lots too,” you whispered as you followed up with another kiss before you snuggled into him again. 

• Master List

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#elvis #elvis presley #70s elvis #elvis fans #elvis presley fandom #daddy elvis #elvis fanfic #big daddy elvis #elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #big daddy elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fluff #elvis presley fluff #elvis presley one shot #elvis x reader #bd!elvis #elvis presely smut #elvis presley imagine #1976 elvis #big daddy elvis fanfic #request! #kiss’n make it better

[stephreynaart]

Stan as an elvis impersonator

You can’t tell me he didn’t do this at some point in his life

#stanuary 2024 #request #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #stanley pines #elvis presley

[austinbutlermischief]

#austin butler #austin butler major gale buck cleven #austin butler elvis #masters of the air #joeykinz-mota #josaustingifs #joeykinzaustingifs #elvis 2022 vs masters of the air #elvis 2022 #anon request

[starryschoolgirl]

Firstly congrats!! Secondly, I'd love it if you could get around to writing some domestic Elvis x Pregnant!reader?

Something short and sweet for you sweets!

Warnings: Just Elvis getting turned on by his pregnant wife, featuring a breeding kink

"Elvis?"

Your soft voice was quite the contrast to the sound of the boys gathered about in the den, munching on chips, yelling swears at the football players on the screen, and telling each other what the team's coach should've done through mouthfuls of food.

Elvis turned around from his spot on the center of the sofa, his hair ruffled slightly from the nervous carding of his fingers through the strands as he watched the opposing football team score once more.

"What is it, Baby?"

You smiled softly at him and held up the plate of sandwiches you made for him and the boys to enjoy for the second half of the game. He gave you a toothy smile with a suave wink and thanked you.

The boys knew not to say anything when you waddled into the center of the living room, as your pregnancy bump obstructed the view of the television they all just bit their lips nervously and tried to sneakily whirr their heads around you to see the television screen without making a fuss, because they knew you'd feel bad if you felt you were being a nuisance.

You kept a supporting hand on your stomach as you bent down to place the large plate on the table, watching with a smile as almost all the sandwiches seemed to disappear the moment the plate hit the coffee table.

While most eyes should've been on the television they all seemed to stray back to you. Elvis watched his wife with a twitch to his brow as his eyes couldn't pick a place to land.

As pregnancy got the best of your body, your breasts began to spill out of the neckline that even before your pregnancy Elvis deemed to delve a little too deep into your chest. And now as you bent over they practically poured over. They were begging to be freed from the confines of the fabric. It was only natural as your body was at its most primal state, the way it should be, filled with the proof of Elvis' desire for you.

Oh if you would allow him he'd keep you naked, barefoot, and pregnant all year round.

He only realized his desire for such a thing after your first pregnancy.

When your body was still yet to be broken in, and when your hips were yet to widen from the push of a baby's head through them, the sight of your virginal self left Elvis with a want which was that of a boy just wanting to get his rocks off.

Now, it was a different type of want as he made note of every little altercation that was made to the dress to fit the baby bump of yours that was filling out the fabric, his want for you was primal and instinctive, his body knew this is what life was about, life was making life.

And he'd be happy to do a whole lot of living with you right now more than anything.

Hope you liked it dearie!

#elvis x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis request #elvis fandom #70s elvis #elvis #50s elvis #60s elvis #elvis x y/n #elvis presley imagine #elvis aaron presley #elvis presley fandom #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x oc #elvis blurb

[be-my-ally]

Let Yourself Go

Overstimulated Reader! Request.

my darling, what a dream request - thank you anon! for both your very kind words + excellent request!!! this has consumed my brain for the past week; I originally intended it to be short like 2.5-3k, and then it turned into 4k and then I realised that in all of those words elvis had only been treated once so it turned into 6k. so this is 6.7k of pure, absolute, filthy smut just for you that i really hope lives up your expectations!

summary: slightly innocent!reader is convinced girls can't really orgasm - elvis sets out to teach her how wrong she is.

pairing: afab!reader/elvis (big daddy e)

warnings: 18+, 18+, 18+, tiny bit of daddy kink, implied age difference, oral (p+v receiving), p in v sex, fingering, mirror sex, overstimulation, very brief spanking. I think that's it? Reader does attempt to stop the proceedings a couple of times and elvis doesn't stop but it is all consensual.

wc: 6.7k

suggested listening: the end of such a night + of course, let yourself go.

You’ve not been together very long and you were still learning about each other in many ways. It confused you a little that he, who you knew had girls throwing themselves at him, would take the time to bother to get to know you better. He’d picked you out of the crowd and put you on his lap in his dressing room before he’d even learnt your name. When you’d told him, earnestly, that you didn’t expect to be married or anything but you were a good girl, who wouldn’t sleep around, you’d expected him to tell you that he wasn’t going to see you again. But no, he’d put in the effort and here you were, a few weeks later, at Graceland of all places. You’d been brought back with him after his engagement at the International ended for this year, allowing him a short break before he resumed touring. 

He’d taken you out on his bike earlier, showing you the sights of Memphis and you’d loved the rush, so unlike anything you’d experienced before. Despite the fact that you dreaded the call from your parents at the photos that would inevitably be published of the two of you - you hadn’t really been dressed to go out (the outing unexpected), nor had you been able to help snuggling into his back, your hand resting on his solid thigh at the lights. When you’d gotten back to the estate you’d expected a party - a celebration of his homecoming, and you’d been bracing to have to deal with losing him for the evening, but you’d been pleasantly shocked when he’d kicked everyone out after dinner, announcing that he wanted a night just the two of you. 

You wanted to tell him that his expectations were a bit forward, to not get his hopes and that you still weren’t sure you were quite ready to have actual sex with him but in all honesty, you were ready and only your (perhaps misguided) morals had prevented you thus far. You had been slightly surprised at how unbothered he had seemed at the concept of sex - he’d laughed you off when you’d told him you didn’t want to sleep with him on the first night; telling you that was all very well but would you sleep with him because he couldn’t “bear the long nights all on my lonesome”. He hadn’t pressured you at all, less than your last boyfriend for sure, and seemed to genuinely enjoy your makeout sessions as much as you do. To tell the truth, you weren’t really sure why anyone was that bothered by sex - it felt fine sure, but it didn’t blow your world apart, was mostly very awkward, and you couldn’t understand what the fuss was in general. 

You’d followed him into the bedroom, into his room, and while part of you wanted to inspect every little detail of this hidden, protected space, the other part of you could feel his impatience from the bed and when he smiles at you - all cheeks and teeth, asking; 

“Wanna have some fun tonight darlin’? Cleared the place out for ya, didn’t want you to go all shy on me…some girls get nervy at the number of people in the place. Get real quiet and the like, even though I tell ‘em I got the sound locked down.” You forget any desire to rifle through his drawers and instead stare at him, slightly confused - just hoping he’s not going to be disappointed; 

“Uh, oh, well, I can’t say I’m that loud anyways, always, I always thought that was just a thing girls, uh, exaggerated?” You look down, embarrassed that you may be having to burst his bubble - you don’t want to be the first to tell him that from what you know there’s nothing to be shouting about. But he doesn’t react in the way you expect - blinking at you from under his glasses and patting the bed next to him. 

“C’mere doll, tell daddy what you mean.” You sit where he tells you to, tiny shorts hiking even further, and you curl your legs up underneath yourself. 

“I don’t, sorry, I don’t understand what you’re asking? I’m just, just, saying that I never understood what those girls on the … on the … the stuff you like to watch, what they’re shouting about is all. Never seemed like anything worth carrying on like that is all.” He’s a little shocked but not altogether surprised - you’re young and a little sheltered, perhaps more than he thought at your reluctance to even said the word ‘pornography’ and he knows your only other relationships have been serious with boys from home, less about fun and more about futures, and he knows that they don’t always put the effort in they should. Still, he needs clarification - his eyes burning with curiosity; 

“You mean you ain’t ever .. got your rocks off? Never creamed those lil’ shorts of yours?” His thick hand finds its way onto your thigh and he flicks the hem of your shorts, practically between your legs. You giggle, pushing his hand off.

“Elvis. Don’t be silly, unless you’ve been with some funny sorta people - girls can’t do that! That’s… I might not know much but I do know that.” He looks back at you, utterly stunned, before smiling like all his Christmases have come at once, a full cheshire cat grin. 

“You - you ain’t never?” He’s shocked, but desperate to know your answer, taking his glasses off, leaning closer and waiting with practically bated breath in excitement, clenching his hands on his thighs. 

“I just told you E, that’s not something girls can actually do. Don’t you think I’d know! If you’re just gonna tease me I swear I’m gonna walk right out of here!” He laughs again at your indignation, shaking his head, 

“Naw little one, don’t do that, don’t do that - I just uh, I think I might be able to teach you a few things tonight is all. Just, ah, need to re-evaluate some things’all.” He frowns, “You know the other day, baby, when I stroked your little pussy and you pushed me off - told me you were all done?” 

You remember the incident he was talking about, He’d had his fingers up you, rubbing you exactly how you needed and you’d crunched with an involuntary shudder, couldn’t quite catch your breath properly and had told him to stop. You’d pushed him away in a panic that you didn’t know what was coming, but that that was certainly enough. He’d been a little worried then, worried that he’d pushed you into something you hadn’t wanted to do. But, he’d relaxed when you’d relaxed on the bed - he wasn’t happy with leaving you like that, on the edge, but he’d figured you were just shy, nervous that his entourage was a mere wall away. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him that you genuinely believed that was you finished. 

“Yeah, but what about it? We were done - I was done, it was starting to make me feel weird. I actually think we went too far.” He lets out a pure incredulous laugh, shaking his head. 

“Oh baby, baby. I’m gonna, I’ll teach you baby, it’ll be ok.” You nod, but you’re honestly a bit confused about what he’s even planning on teaching you, but you don’t want to tell him he’s wrong again. You suppose he does have quite the reputation, so maybe he does have some things to show you, you doubt it somewhat but keep that to yourself. 

“Right, yittle, need these all off of ya,” He tugs at your shirt, starting to unbutton it. “and these, these slutty little shorts need to come off, lemme see what I’m working with.” He’s practically crooning at you, slipping your shirt off gently, divesting you off your shorts - undressing you as if you were a babe. He strips you of your bra, leaving you in little white panties, before pushing you back onto the bed to lie flat. He doesn’t give you time to worry about your nudity, cupping your cheek with one thick hand, leaning over you to kiss you. 

His tongue slips in, it’s like he’s mapping your mouth and you don’t bother to fight for dominance, letting him in, submissively brushing your tongue against his. He pulls away slightly, grabbing a breath and you can’t help it, his pouty perfect lips too tempting, you surge forward to softly suck on his bottom lip, nibbling gently. He responds in kind, pulling your head back, baring your neck - he tugs your lip between his teeth pulling as he pulls away. You moan at the little sting, and he presses a soothing peck against it. Before trailing down and pressing little open-mouthed kisses at your cheek, mouthing at your neck - tiny little suctioning touches until his hand, which he’s not resting on, is trailing further down. His fingers spread across a breast, fingertips playing with your nipple. You can feel the heat coiling in your tummy - your throbbing heartbeat between your legs. He’s pressing little kisses down your soft stomach, and he grunts as he repositions himself - up on his knees slightly. It worries you briefly, he’s been using a cane as more than just an accessory more frequently lately - his youthful actions having been hard on his knees and legs, before your mind is wiped by his actions again. 

His hand trails lower, even as he continues to press soft kisses on your stomach, and he swipes down in a languid stroke over your panties, feeling your pooling wetness through the forming damp spot. He pushes it into you, rubbing you over them - the fabric catching slightly, along with your breath. He moves his head back up, sucking you by your collarbone and on your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise. The noises coming out of your mouth are unlike how you’ve ever heard yourself before, and as he hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down and off - the dampness making them pretty much see through - you would normally cringe in embarrassment but as you watch him lift them to his mouth and suck on them you can’t do anything but stare in an absolute state of shock and arousal. He’s still fully dressed although his shirt is so lowly unbuttoned, his chest with its covering of hair, god even his nipples practically out, that it barely counts. You can feel his own arousal growing against your side, still confined in his tight, slightly flared, trousers the heat of it, and can’t help but wiggle against him. He folds your panties, scrunching them up, before shifting to push them into his trouser pocket. You gape at him, 

“Good lord, you can’t - they’re so dirty Elvis - you can’t keep them. They need to be washed!” He smirks at you, smirk turning to a grin as he leans over you to whisper in your ear, moving his hand away from you as he does. 

“Baby, when they taste that good, I’ll do what I damn well like.” He licks your cheek, and it's something that you would have found disgusting from anyone else, but somehow him doing it makes your heartbeat pulse in your core. He lets his hand come back down, lightly slapping against your pussy, you jolt forward, mouth falling open, and eyes rolling slightly at the sudden intense pleasure from it. He chuckles into your ear, tickling your neck, “Oh - you like that mama? Like that baby?” He does it again, and you’re horrified at the wet slapping noise - but also at the sudden surge of wetness, you can feel.  

“Oh god, Elvis, you gotta - gotta do that again. Please.” He obliges, patting you once, twice, three times before letting his hand fly slightly harder, you can feel your heat rising - and you shiver slightly. You’ve reached the peak of where you’d been before. Your heartbeat fast, and a constant thrumming at your centre. He laughs, teasing you in a low tone, 

“God, who’d have thought you’d be such a dirty fucking girl, letting me - begging me to spank that yittle cunt of yours.” He puts an inflection onto yittle, as if even when talking about your ‘cunt’ he’s unable to stop his penchant for baby talk. 

He uses his fingers to spread you apart, middle finger sliding in your slick. The metal of his ring is cold against your burning skin, sending goosebumps down your flesh. You think he can’t make you feel any better when he slips two of his fingers inside you. His huge square ring catching on your entrance for a moment and you buck your hips as he slides it in. He pumps them, in and out, as you squirm on the bed. Your eyes fall closed for a moment and he whispers to you, 

“You like that little? My fingers in you? Gonna show you how girls do it, teach ya how it goes.” You respond with a whine - his words causing a blush to travel from your chest. You’re simultaneously embarrassed at needing to be taught something about your own adult self and aggressively turned on by his narration. 

You’re breathless and while he’s looking at you with a soft smile on his face - pure concentration in his burning eyes, you can’t help but wonder what he’s getting from all of this attention on you. But to be the centre of his focus, him looking at you like you’re the whole world - the only thing in the world, is another level of high. Behind him you can yourself reflected in the mirror above - you look fucking debauched, unlike yourself and seeing him from above, in all his iconic glory, reminding you this is Elvis fixated on you brings you even closer to the cliff edge. 

He pushes into you, unnecessarily - his fingers were long enough he could reach with his thumb without having to strain at all - to reach your hooded clit. He finds it expertly, rubbing it just so. You shudder, and he keeps going just as he was, but kisses down your neck to your nipple again, swirling it in his mouth, pulling it with his teeth slightly and you can feel yourself about to fall. You panic at the unexpected and unknown feeling and try to throw him off, 

“Elvis! Elvis stop - stop I can’t - I can’t do it, it’s too much - you gotta, you gotta st-“ You’re thrashing about the place, arms flailing as you try to push him away, but his fingers don’t stop and he hushes you as he’s suddenly stroking this little spot inside of you. You can feel it’s different but can’t quite tell how until he crooks his fingers and presses. You shudder, your mouth falling open, although you’re still far quieter than he’d like - he makes a mental note that his aim tonight is to make you scream. And then you’re shaking, convulsing on his hand - stomach and core muscles clenching of their own accord. He rubs and strokes you through it. Your mind is blank and all you can feel is your thighs shaking - your head rolling from side to side. He keeps going and you keep going for him, clutching the covers in tight fists, mouth open in a silent scream as one of your legs randomly seems to jump about. He can tell you’re at the end of what you can do for him at the moment. He softlypulls his fingers out, trying to bring you down gently. His fingers leaving feather-light touches across your mound and thighs. 

“That good, baby?” He pats his sticky, wet hand on your tummy and you can’t speak, taking heaving breaths. 

“W-was,” You’re slurring as you come back to, your ears ringing, “Is that, what I’ve been missing? Is that meant to happen?” He laughs at you, finger drawing little shapes on your stomach, 

“Yeah, when you’re with someone who knows what they’re doing.” He puffs his chest out a little, clearly proud of himself, “A real man.” You laugh, and he kisses you again and again until your lips are swollen and bitten raw and you’re gasping for air. You lay back for a few more moments, looking up at him leaning over you. He moves his arm, and you’re not quite sure what comes over you, but the movement had spread his shirt even more and it’s not something you’d ever considered doing ever before, but he did do it to you earlier so you gain the courage to ask; 

“El- can I, can I…please can I taste you?” He raises a brow at your polite request, but is not going to turn down such an offer, 

“Sure baby, lemme get lil’ Elvie out now - “ You frown, interrupting him. 

“No, no… can I just… like you did earlier?” He looks slightly confused, his brow furrowed, but he agrees nonchalantly - clearly used to letting whoever do whatever they like with his body. 

“Sure - “ He starts to say something else, but you’re too distracted by the permission, rushing forward to kiss his chest, moving down to capture his nipple. He jerks,

“Christ - Oh lord,” You’re practically suckling him, one hand threading through his chest hair, feeling his stomach, the hard line where he’s definitely still muscular somewhere underneath but is soft and cushy above, grasping at his pillowy sides. His hips are bucking, circling with the effort not to throw you off accidentally, “Oh gods, baby, christ little one, lord, oh lord.” He’s unable to be silent, constantly babbling a stream of curses and praise. You pull off, and suddenly, you’re mortified. 

“Oh my goodness, Oh, Elvis, I - uh, sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” You’re shocked at yourself but he’s panting, and you can feel him straining against his pants. 

“Oh darlin’, lord, darlin’ it’sss ok, it’s so good, so good baby. Love your lil’ mouth on me.” You smile a little bashfully as he pats at you as if praising a dog. “Think now little Elvis would too baby, get him out - show him how much you ‘preciate him too?” You pant back at him nodding your agreement. He’s resting further up on the bed than he was before, you’d both travelled around the last few minutes and he sits to take his shirt fully off, before unbuttoning his trousers finally and wriggling out of them. He shuffles further back and you get yourself situated between his legs, bracketed by his thick thighs on either side of you, their covering of downy hair tickling your sides. You lean down, gently stroking his hardening cock - but then pause, 

“Elvis, I ain’t ever - you gotta tell me how to do it.” He groans, his head falling back, 

“Goddamn, like you were made for me, fucking made for me honey,” he peers down at you, over the slight swell of his stomach, tucking his chin in - one of his meaty fingers stroked the side of your face before gently grasping your head, lowering it to his cock. “You gotta, gotta say hello little one, give ‘im a little hello kiss now - “ You do as he says, brushing your lips against the very tip. You’d seen it briefly before, so although not this close, and you had given him a … helping hand over the past few weeks so you’re not surprised to see he’s uncut nor at the size of him - generous in length and girth, but it’s still fascinating to you up close. You can't help but study it briefly - assessing how his foreskin is starting to retract back slightly and you absentmindedly reach for it, gently rolling it forward and back a little bit, unsure how far it should go. His hips jerk, 

“Christ, baby, you gotta warn a man first.” You smile, meeting his blazing blue eyes and amused expression. 

“Sorry - I thought me being here was warning enough.” He laughs and pats your cheek. 

“Right little one, back to work. Kiss down little Elvis, let him know how much you wanted to see him - ‘ You obey his orders, pressing little kisses all the way down his shaft. “Ok, now doll you're gonna take him in that hot little mouth of yours - gonna be re-eal careful of your sharp little teeth, got it?” You obediently bob up and down in a nod, making sure not to scrape him.

Instinct seems to kick in and you take a moment to suck down on him, flattening your tongue against his underside. His other hand finds its way into your hair accompanying the one still resting on your cheek and neck, hand spanning across the distance. His hip jerks forward and it causes his dick to knock further back than you were expecting and you pull back with a little cough.

“S’ok baby, sorry, felt so good, couldn't help myself, not gonna make you take all of him tonight, you can use your hand go on, show the rest of him how much you love him.” He pats you again and it’s enough encouragement for you to go back down on him. You do as he suggested, stroking and pulling him with your hand where your mouth can't comfortably reach, growing bold enough to reach down and delicately hold and stroke his balls. His hands are insistent on your head, not forcing you but certainly moving you exactly how he wants you. You can taste the thin salty trickle of precum starting to dribble out of him.

“That’s it, baby, I was already so close, just from touchin’ ya honey, just gotta suck me just like that, that’s it like a damn popsicle.” His hands grow a little rougher, tugging on your hair slightly, as his hips circle and his thighs clench around you. “Gonna, you gonna stroke me now, yittle, you just gonna stroke me, I’ll let you have a taste, give you a treat but that’s enough for now - ’s about you tonight, about you honey.” He's babbling now, and you're not paying much attention to his words coming out of his mouth except when his request filters through to your brain, and you pull off with a little wet pop, stroking him to completion. He squirts over your hand - ribbons of white hitting you on the chin and chest, moaning as he does and his eyes falling closed.

He leans back, breathing heavily as his cock finishes jumping about, slowly softening before your eyes and you glance around, before grabbing his discarded shirt to wipe your hand on. Before you can raise it to your chin to wipe it off of there he sits up and moves his hand from your face to swipe a finger through it. “C’mon baby, gonna have you swallow it next time,” You're uncertain about this, but don’t bother to say anything right now as he rubs his fingers on your lips, “Go on, open up honey, have a taste for me. Lick it clean.” You do as he commands, tasting the salty tang of a man’s cum for the first time. It's not wholly unpleasant, although you're not sure about the texture, but you can’t say you'd be jumping for joy at the prospect of swallowing his full load. He watches as you suck his fingers, licking them completely clean looking up at him under your lashes as you do. 

He leans forward to kiss you but then suddenly grimaces, frowning. Twisting slightly in an attempt to relieve some of the tension from his hips and back. 

“I’m sorry, honey, but I gotta- I gotta lie down again.” You frown, worried. 

“Of course! don’t - you’re meant to be relaxing!” He’s proven himself to you - taught you that there was something on the other side of the cliff edge and it was good. But you weren’t worried - didn’t see any reason to continue, you’d both been taken care of and you were now perfectly happy to be tucked up in bed for the night.

“Oh no, I don’t mean I’m done. Get over here, little girl…” He manhandles you, ringed fingers digging into your thighs as he arranges you over the top of him. He then lies down, sliding between your legs, before huffing a tiny bit as he heaves you up from his chest and down onto him. “That’s it, mama, right over my face. Lemme get to that poor little kitty of yours.” You’re confused as to what he’s going to be able to achieve from this angle - he can’t possibly just want such a closer look, can he? But then, without warning, he pushes his head up licking down your labia before pulling you off balance to literally sit on his face. 

“Woah - Oh, Elvis I’m gonna hurt you like this, I can’t just - I’m too heavy!” You try to move away but you can’t escape from his tight grip. 

“Ain’t gonna hurt a fly baby - lemme just.” And he pushes his tongue into you, spearing into your hole. You’re sopping wet already, his fingers having seen to that, and the noises are obscene - the wet smacking and sucking. 

“Elv-oh my god, Elvis you can’t-“ You try to get off but his hands don’t let you move at all - pinning you onto him. But as you struggle your thighs touch and you can feel the wetness and the stickiness that’s spread throughout - tangling your curls, sticking your thighs. “It’s- it’s - it’s dirty, you can’t, you shouldn’t - that shouldn’t, you’re not meant to do that.” You can feel him chuckle, the vibration making you gasp, but he doesn’t even respond, simply holds you down and goes harder.

You’re supporting most of your weight on your own legs but every time you clench or move you can feel his fingers digging tighter in - sure you’ll have bruises where his rings and fingertips have been. You can’t help but move, grinding onto his mouth. It’s outrageous and you can’t believe this is something people do, but now it’s happening you wonder how you’ve lived this long without it, without knowing how this feels. His tongue is flicking between lapping at your hole and your inner folds. Your hips circle and one of his hands comes around your thigh - curling around to join his mouth. He moves his mouth up to suck on your clit, and the warm wet pressure, the suction, the everything - it’s too much. You’re losing control again, fighting the panic for a second time that evening - but this time, the pressure is growing even stronger and though you recognise the feeling now it feels different. 

“Oh my god, Elvis, god, Elvis, Elvis please, please, you gotta stop! I’m gonna-” You grind your hips again, but he must be able to hear the sudden change in your tone - the sudden, very real, panic. And despite his instinct telling him not to he worries it’ll make you lose your relaxed state and he pulls away, kissing your inner thigh, 

“Relax baby, dontcha worry, oh my poor baby’s little neglected pussy - you’ve got no idea, just been waiting for a real man, for daddy, to show you what you’ve been missin’ all this time.” He croons into you, hands stroking your thighs, soothing you into compliance. As soon as you relax into his hold again he surges forward once more. Your folds are swollen and slick, feeling like they’re burning, you feel so hot. And your entire focus is on your cunt and Elvis. Unable to even think about your thigh cramping or your foot falling asleep. He kisses up you, capturing your little puffy clit in his lips again and sucks hard. You think you might be about to pass out - it feels so overwhelming, but suddenly the pressure changes - and as he slips a finger back inside you it starts to feel a little too similar to something else. 

Your panicked noises come back out, and you once again are begging Elvis to stop warning him; “I think I’m gonna pee, Elvis, seriously! I can’t - I can’t hold it! Elvis - daddy, fuck, I can’t, I seriously think I’m gonna - gonna pee.” But he doesn’t stop this time, not even to reassure you, just continuing his steady ministrations, speeding up, and the pressure is steadily mounting again, reaching the peak. Your orgasm rips through you and you have to throw your hands out to support yourself on the headboard to simply stay upright but you’re barely able to think about it, moving on instinct alone. You’re shuddering and he’s continuing, won’t leave you be. And then, the pressure seems to burst - slowly yet somehow quicker than anything you’re ever felt. It’s like your vagina is simultaneously your whole body and also entirely separate from your body as it clenches before you’re gushing, liquid shooting out of you. It drenches his face, it’s in his hair, in his sideburns, and he sits up, as you fall off of him to one side, and he’s glistening. 

You’re in a daze but a little embarrassed, both at him covered in your juices and that he was right and you were wrong about your abilities. But his reaction makes you second guess your immediate response - he’s grinning, licking his goddamn lips like he’s just eaten the best-tasting dessert of his life. He uses one of your discarded shirts to wipe his face off, smiling at the damp patches it causes. 

“There we are baby, Daddy got’cha there, got you to that special place - that’s what it’s meant to be like darling. Told you didn’t I, told you, you just gotta listen to me, let yourself go.” 

You lay back panting - you’re a little sore and a lot tired and you’re sure you’re done. You can feel his cock hardening against you again in a gentle coaxing sort of way, and you reach over a hand. You can do this, but you’ve just not got the energy for anything else - and your pussy is still pulsing, soft and swollen and puffy. He bats your hand away though, 

“Right, mama, gonna show you how it’s really done, you’re gonna reach your little o on my cock, and you’re gonna know that’s how it should be every time.” He kneels up on the bed, pulling you up onto your knees too, and he’s putting you exactly where he wants you. You want to refuse, but he’s so convincing, and you are a little curious at how he might be able to make even this so spectacular for you, an act that you’d been ambivalent about, mostly put up with; knowing it was something women just did to keep their partners happy. He manhandles you into the perfect position for him, your back slightly arched, hands clutching the top of the headboard and he brushes your sweaty hair off of your neck, kissing where it lay before. 

You stay where he puts you, slightly shell-shocked at your easy compliance, and at what he’s suggesting. You glance up from under your lashes and notice the huge mirror above the bed - you’d seen the one above yourself in the bed but not the glass above the headboard - and can see how you look. You watch your face contort slightly as he presses a few of his fingers into you again, testing if you’re ready. But you’re loose, in a novel sort of way - so aroused that it’s easy in a way it’s never been before. You’re studying your fucked out face, shocked at how wide your pupils are, the redness of your lips and cheeks, before you turn your attention to Elvis watching his rosy reflection - his hair sticking down, body and chest shimmering with sweat, clinging to his chest hair, his plush lips bitten red and his face still with a hint of damp, blue eyes sparkling. You’re about to utter something completely embarrassing like, “Oh my god, you’re so pretty,” or “I love you.” But you’re (somewhat thankfully) distracted by him rubbing himself on you a couple of times before fucking into you. You jolt forward, mouth falling open as he simply pushes his whole length in, immediately pulling back out to shutter his hips forward again - gripping your waist and pulling you back onto him too. You’re shouting, finally, garbled noises and moans as he gives you no time to adjust and instead slams you back and forth to him, his balls slapping against your wet skin. 

He spanks your ass and you shudder, the tinge of pain mixed with the pleasure of him hitting that spot in you, getting in so deep you feel like he’s in your soul and not just your body. You can feel yourself starting to go again, starting to ride the crest of that wave when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again and you can barely breathe, noises catching in your throat at the sight. 

“That’s it sweet, that’s it sugar, look at yourself,” He wraps an arm over your chest and grips your chin, pointing it straight at the mirror, “Look at us honey.” You can see him behind you, behind your flushed body - himself pink and damp with sweat from the exertion, its practically dripping down his forehead and onto his chest - he lets go of your chin and moves one hand to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples, the other to slip between your legs. You jerk when he strokes where the two of you are joined. It’s filthy. You’ve never been this visible like this before, having very much been under the covers with previous lovers, and your knowledge of positions was limited to on your back, on your front and your side. Very much lying down. The image of his cock sliding into your folds, the pink fuzzy base barely visible through your own fuzz and his hand splayed over your stomach as if supporting where he sits internally is filthy in the best possible way. 

You feel utterly surrounded by him, you can’t think of anything but how he feels, how he looks, you can’t sense anything else. You can’t see anything but him, it’s all him as you look around - the mirrors on the back wall and above you reflect back the image of the two of you, but your eyes skip over yourself only seeing him. His thick form. He’s muscular in a solid way, an accidental way, and the layer of softness that covers all of him, but especially over his tummy, only makes him more attractive to you, more real. When you close your eyes the vision of him is imprinted on your eyelids, and all you can smell is him. He’s got a slight sweaty musk to him from the exertion and activity, but under it you can still smell the hint of his cologne. His sheets smell aggressively like him, like the Vegas him and the home him - he must use the same products (or his laundry service must) wherever he is. The room too - there’s his unique blend of homely smells but also the heavy scent of the blend of his favourite specific brands of cigarettes and cigars. The smoke, despite him claiming he only smoked very irregularly, clings to his thick curtains and the drapes that surround the room. The room which screams, as much as the rest of his house does, of him - of solely him, of his outrageous, outlandish, tacky, wonderful, style. 

You aren’t able to have any of these thoughts though, as his fingers stroke himself before once again finding your clit. He captures it between his fingers, rolling it, before brushing his finger over it and before you know it you’re quivering - shaking as your orgasm overcomes you again. It’s too much, your body has barely had a chance to recover and while you’re not passed out you’re also not…all there. Your body slack as Elvis holds you up, just a rag doll for him to take what he needs for his own orgasm - chasing his completion. He does, barely a few strokes later, a litany of praises spilling out of his mouth, pulling out as quickly as he could, seemingly caught a little by surprise. And you can feel the last few sprays from him as he splatters over your already sticky and trembling body. You slump down without him holding you up by the waist and hips, and he catches you - laying you out on the bed. He lays next to you, panting, chest heaving for a few moments before propping himself up on an elbow next to you. 

You’re sore, internally and externally and worse - sticky, but he doesn’t let you sleep yet, running his cum-covered fingers through your soft pubic hair, before tracing shapes on your lower tummy, gently brushing lower and lower until his fingers are stroking through your sticky soft folds. You squirm, sleepy, and he hushes you, 

“C’mon baby doll, give me one more, gotta make up for lost time darling. Give em all to you tonight. One more baby, c’mon do it for daddy, give daddy one more.” He’s speaking lowly, so as not to disturb your sleepy state, but what he’s asking you to do is bringing you back to awareness. He’s barely touching you, nudging your little stretched hole with his wet fingers, barely pressing the outer rim before delicately stroking your sore, puffy, clitoris again. You feel your legs shaking, seemingly of their own accord, and can’t focus on anything he says, resorting to begging over top of his continued whispers; 

“I can’t, I can’t, Elvis please, daddy, please, it’s too much, I can’t,” but you’re already so close to the edge that you gasp, mouth open, as he inserts his fingers again, and it only takes him crooking them just so for you to shudder and scream. It’s borderline painful, and your legs are shaking, “Lord, daddy! Oh my god, Elvis, daddy, oh my lord. Oh - “ and as he continues to stroke that little place inside of you, as you ride the waves that wash over you, your words trail off to just noises. You're practically yowling as you slump over, still shuddering and stomach still convulsing when he slows his ministrations and pulls his fingers away. Your vision is white and black and you can't focus on anything he's saying through your ringing ears although you're aware he's talking. It takes a few minutes for your body to calm down, Elvis’ large hands gently rubbing you down like a horse after a race, and it's not until your heart rate slows again that you’re able to open your eyes and try to focus on what he's saying.

“Told you didn’t I, you gonna learn to believe your daddy now? Believe what he tells you?” He’s unbelievably smug and you can hear it in his voice, and in the way his eyes crinkle looking down at you. 

“Course, Daddy,” You blush, “Elvis. Of course, I just - I just didn’t know! I didn’t know what that was…inside me.” He laughs, 

“Well, not everyone can find it doll, it keeps itself real hidden like, less you’re just the right fit.” He squeezes your cheek as he says it before he pats you again and heaves himself up into standing. “Right honey, gonna have to get you all cleaned up - you’ll be drippin’ all night else.” You wince as he wipes at you with a little towel, even his expensive cotton too much abrasion on your still throbbing centre. You roll into the bed, far too exhausted to even stand up, and your eyes are closing as he comes back over with a glass of water, he makes you drink half and you do so, sleepily, while he maintains his grip on the glass. “We’ll have to shower in the morning honey, think you’re fixin’ for a snooze now.” He pulls the top comforter off, throwing it on the floor, and you can just see through your hazy tired gaze that there’s a large wet spot on it. “Least we ain’t gotta change the bed.” He mumbles as he climbs into it. You squirm as he pulls you close against your chest and his hands find their customary positions - one just a little too close to between your thighs but he pets and shushes you, humming a tiny lullaby that makes you fall deep asleep almost immediately. 

#elvis smut #elvis x you #elvis x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #fic request!! #be-my-ally #big daddy elvis

[seriesluticons]

fav or reblog if you save.

#icons #icons request #priscilla presley #priscilla movie #priscilla 2023 #cailee spaeny #elvis #elvis presley #elvis and priscilla #movie #movie 2023 #movie icons #sofia coppola

[elvisalltheway101]

Hi. May I request an early 60s Elvis x female reader in which they are getting intimate after his return from the army but she is insecure of her body. Just as they are nude, she gets scared and tries to cover herself, Elvis tries to reassure her. Sorry it's long, you can end it with smut if you want. Thanks

fools; early 60s elvis x reader ☁️ ‼️🫣

summary: it’s been two years since the last time you’ve been intimate with Elvis, and you’ve gotta admit that it’s took a toll on you and your feelings about your appearance. Elvis stirs up the right remedy just to ease your mind.

Author’s note: lol it’s funny how this fits all genres I write, angst, smut and fluffy. I could NOT resist the temptation of writing smut or thinking it…so ha, smut requests are back on. Thank you for your request btw! WARNINGS: insecurity of stretch marks, weight, appearance and smut

••••••••••

All those long lonely nights, while you were tucked away in bed and your man was in the army. Training and disciplining himself along with other boys that were turning into men. You had time to really take a good look at yourself.

To look at the stretch marks that were mapped across your thighs, the pouch you’ve put on above your belt, anything on your body, you happened to find something wrong about it.

But you never had these thoughts around Elvis, of course that was before he was drafted. You felt perfect and all precious, because he showed you all that you deserved.

You and your doubtful mind just had to ruin an intimate moment, with your husband that’s as finally back and awaiting.

As he peeled off his pants, panting softly above you he noticed your sadden demeanor. He immediately pulled back, and there was a dead silence.

He was already aching hard, with this delicious bare sight in front of him, but that subsided as he looked into your worried eyes and insecure soul.

“B-baby? What’s wrong?…” he spoke out so gently, those baby blues softened from the dark lust clouding his want and mind. And you felt so guilty that he was so concerned and that you’ve ruined everything just by not thinking your worth.

You shrug and shake your head, reaching for a blanket besides you against the silky white sheets you both lay, “n-nothing, it’s stupid.” you spat at yourself, furrowing your eyebrows and looking away.

He frowns, shaking his sharp jaw and taking a gentle caress to your chin. He ushers you to look into his eyes, and he instantly senses your rush of insecurity and pain. He can feel himself soften lightly, and he clicks his tongue. “Nah baby, if something’s making my doll worried, and you’re calling it stupid, then you’re acting a fool. But if I were to follow that lil frown of yours, we’d both be damned fools.”

He smiles gently and nudges you to speak your mind, and you can’t help but flutter with warmth at his care. He never changed in or out of that army, no uniform or hairstyle could ever fix him out of this sweet, gentle side.

“I-it’s just…Elvis take a real good look at me.” You huff softly and pout. And that’s exactly what he does.

Scanning your bare breasts that heaved along with your frustrated breaths, that cute tummy that carried all the delicious food he made sure nurtured you just right, the thighs that would hopefully soon be wrapped deliciously around his head, that ran along to your pretty sooties.

He draws in a sharp breath, feeling his manhood twitch alive in his burdened slacks, reaching out with a sweaty, needy palm to knead your smooth side. “I see alotta woman.” He breathers out heavily, needing to shake his head a little to process right.

Doubtful and still not amused, “e, I mean real good, look at me closely.” He just shrugs and you swear you see him slurp back drool that’s running a glossy line down his chin.

“like I said baby, I see a whole lotta woman, that’s all mine.” He growls playfully, his hands kneading a little firmer now. But you sigh and shake your head, “Elvis…look, don’t you see these ugly lines across my legs, o-or the weight I’ve put on. You don’t see any of that?” You quip, quite upset that he ain’t on the same page.

He only shakes his head clueless, but draws a fist to his puffy lips to bite down on a knuckle, suppressing a moan.

As you open your lips again to protest against anything, he’s had enough of this. So he just gruffly places you on the edge of the bed, still bare and naked, while he seats himself across in the velvety red, smooth, wooden chair. Truly made for a king.

Unzipping his slacks, he huffs as he yanks them off and your eyes widen to just see how being naked has done to him.

He’s almost purple at the tip, his foreskin peeling back to stream precum down his tight balls, his manhood twitches and pulses with his panting.

“I-imma show ya just how much I dig ya, ya head baby?” He whispers out in a strained voice, looking up to connect with his baby blue pupils. You only nod in return, and glance back.

It’s almost immediate, as he clutches both hands to the arm handles and thrusts into the air. His cock wagging pathetically that drips more sticky arousal. He throws his head back and whimpers so prettily, “b-baby, you see them beauties that map on yer legs? F-fuck, I could jus’ ah!” He lets out a stream of profanities at just the thought of rubbing his swollen, purple tip against your stretch marks.

“Look atcha, j-jus sittin’ there, and I-I’m over here like a bitch in heat.” He heaves out heavily, stomping his feet to plant onto the ground and ruttting into the air.

The sight is truly breath-taking. No hands, just hips and sudden movements. All because you’re yourself and bare.

His eyes dart to your stomach, that has gentle rolls and your jiggling breasts. Immediately, his eyes roll to the back of his head, hips stuttering into the stuffy, room air. “A-ah shit, y-you see, hah, that precious belly you’ve got on? Oh, y-you just wait til ah’m oh a-ah” he can’t even form a proper sentence. His eyes shut close as his length flickers and produces wet juices down the seam of his balls and the girth of his swollen cock.

At the mere thought of seeing you bigger. Not because of delicious treats, but full of him. Of his sperm, round and swollen, carrying his baby. Permanently marking you his by the twitch of his cock. All’s gotta take is a smudge of his acorn tip into your cervix, his manhood jus’ gotta pulse real good into that beaver, and his seed’ll catch.

You would think that he’d be done for by just seeing your body, but it’s when he sees your blown out pupils, is when he boils over the top.

His hips shake and he grips at the wooden arm handles, growling and chomping at the air as his cock pulses wickedly into the air, spurting out hot, thick creams that lands on his own juicy thighs.

Face scrunched in absolute pleasure, lips puffy, while his cock swells to waste more of his semen that drips down onto the carpeted floor. All insecurities are out the windows

your cheeks burn crimson at what had just happened when he finally sits back and his bare chest catches his breathing, he had just gone off of the image of you. No hands, no touch, hell, you didn’t have to speak.

“Ya see baby? I guess we ain’t fools, huh,”

••••••••

#elvis #spotify #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis imagine #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x y/n #enjoy! #Elvis smut #elvis smut request #elvis x reader #elvis x reader smut #elvis smut #60s elvis #sarge elvis

[headfullofpresley]

Welcome back to tumblr, Tam! I wanted to see if you’re taking requests and if you are…could we see 50s!El giving the reader a facial and maybe he accidentally cums in her eye.

Idk that would be some funny shit…😂

hi nonnie, thank you so much! decided to make this into a blurb even though i never write blurbs (simply bc i always get carried away lol), but i love this idea! i'm a sucker for the funny, mundane shit. hope you like it! 💗

𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝

Word count: 858

Warning(s): strong language, handjob, facial, elvis cummin' in your eye.

“Faster, faster, oh fuck- faster, baby..” Elvis grunted as he stood in front of you, feet planted firmly on the floor of his bedroom, head thrown back as his lips were parted. His chest was heaving up and down heavily, the muscles in his lower abdomen tightening letting you know he was close to falling apart. Usually, you knew that at this point, you’d have to put his cock in your mouth to let him paint the back of your tongue white.

You were a good girlfriend like that.

And you were an even better girlfriend for agreeing to his idea of having him cum on your face. After all, he just came back from his two year long stint in Germany and you had missed being intimate with him so much that you didn’t even protest to this naughty little fantasy of his.

You were completely focused on the task as your hand was moving faster and faster, ignoring the slight ache in your wrist. What was about to come made you determined and while this had been Elvis’ idea, you were curious about it too. He always brought out the naughty and wild side in you and every time you had sex with your boyfriend, you were completely swept up into the moment.

“Shit… Little, y-yes,” he grunted as he looked down at you, quickly replacing your hand with his own, continuing your work. You took it as a sign to get ready and sat there all pretty on your knees, hands placed on your thighs. He grunted as he panted heavily, mumbling something about you having to close your eyes but you were too eager and lost in the moment to register his words. You barely had time to register them to be quite frank, because in a matter of seconds, warm spurts of cum landed on your face and your eyelashes fluttered in a reflex.

You wanted to see the whole thing happening, but that probably wasn’t the best idea.

As some of it managed to creep into your left eye, you didn’t even have time to cuss at your boyfriend for having some of his cum land in your hair, because you felt as if your eye was on fire. Letting out a panicked shriek, you squeezed your eye shut and covered it with your hand. Elvis didn’t notice it at first, until he saw you sitting back on the floor and fanning your hand in front of your closed eye, too scared to open it.

Elvis, unfortunately, didn’t have the time to admire his creation on your face as he saw the state you were in. Kneeling down next to you, he gently grabbed your chin and looked at your face. “Baby, are you okay?”

You glared at him with one eye, grasping the tissues he held out to you he got from the box on the bedside table, shoving him away. “You came into my eye, you idiot!”

Elvis sat on his knees opposite you, putting his hands on your knees as he watched you rub your eye with the tissues for a second. He should be worried, and he really was worried, but he couldn’t help but to see the humor in it. You looked at him as he let out a roaring laugh, managing to slowly open your assaulted eye, which was red and teary.

“I t-told you.. told you to close your eyes!” Elvis stuttered as he laughed hysterically, and laughing even harder as you gave him another shove and he fell back on the floor. You wanted to be angry at him and give him a hard time, but it didn’t take you long to be laughing just as hard as he was.

“I’m never doing that again!” You told him after the two of you had calmed down a little and your eyes didn’t sting as much anymore after Elvis had inspected it and kept a damp washing cloth against it, while also cleaning the rest of your face.

“Don’t say that, baby,” He grinned as he smothered your face with kisses, ignoring how he could still taste himself on your skin a little. “’S not like you’ve gone blind, now did’ya?”

“Well, sure felt like it!”

He laughed his contagious belly-laugh again and wrapped his arms around you, getting off the floor and rolling in between the sheets on the bed with you. Before you knew it, he was already on top of you and in between your legs again, grinning down at you. “I’ll make it up to ya real good, Little,”

“You better,” You smiled at him as you trap him in your embrace by wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, keeping him close against you as he leaned down and kissed you.

For the rest of the night, he made it up to you.

Again, and again, and again.

And every time, he made sure to be mindful of your left eye, kissing your eyelid lovingly as he reminded you how much he missed you when he was away in Germany for those long two years.

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#tam.answers #requests #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #elvis blurb #elvis presley blurb #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis #elvis presley #tamwrites