#50s elvis presley

[lustnhim]

manspreading 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

inspired by a post i saw on tiktok. i just climb right between them and lay down on his thighs :( ugh, cute baby.

[wanderingelvis]

hi girlie! love your work, please could you write about a reader that loves sex with ep but is still very innocent?

i hope you like it! thank you for requesting!

masterlist is here for more elvis fics takin' new elvis requests here

wc - 2.8k

warnings - SMUT, daddyk!nk, profanity, overstim, praisek!nk, innocencek!nk, all the usual stuff for me

Elvis was the one to expose you to a lot of your firsts. Your first kiss, your first time in Las Vegas, your first designer dress, your first sip of alcohol but most importantly, your first experience of sexual pleasure. 

Now, despite your innocence, even you knew that Elvis had been with many lovers and was well known for his abilities in the bedroom. Sure, it made you a little hesitant at first, a little scared that he would find someone more exciting and experienced than you and forget all about you. Actually, you were more than a little scared of that happening, you were terrified, you didn't even want to fall for Elvis because you never felt that you were worth the famous man's time or attention but oh Lord, you fell hard.

And you could tell straight away why so many people fell for him, when he looked at you, it felt like he was looking through to your soul and out the other side again. It was like you were the only person in the world to him in that moment.

But when Elvis introduced you to the world of pleasure and sex, you couldn't get enough. You were nervous during your first times, so, so nervous and Elvis could tell. But he went slowly with you, praising you and cooing at you as you took all of him, even if it stretched your walls and made a few sweet, little tears trickle down your cheeks.

Elvis would always praise you and make it clear what he was doing too, never leaving you in the dark.

"M'gonna take off these pretty lil' panties now, little girl."

"Open them lips f'me doll, that's it, just like that, good." He would hiss.

"Daddy's gotchu, s'okay baby, yer likin' that ain't ya? S'okay, I know yer overstimulated. That's my girl."

"Yer takin' my fingers so well little one, that's right, you're doin' so good f'me. You like that dontchu dolly? Yeah? M'gonna add another finger, stretch out yer pretty lil' cunt, I know you can handle it baby."

And he'd delight in watching you get so worked up under him, writhing with pleasure and practically begging for more through whimpers and tears each time.

Yet still, that sweet naivety that clouded you never left. You were always still seeking Elvis' guidance and love and attention and that's when Elvis realised the gem that he had in you.

You'd gaze up at him with uncertainty, seeking reassurance with every move as he would teach you all the ways he enjoyed being pleasured and Elvis would have to stroke your pretty little head as he taught you how to give it.

You became obsessed with feeling pleasure from Elvis, you found yourself begging and mewling for it in the morning, whispering in Elvis' ear during the day asking for him to take you, and undressing yourself at the earliest opportunity in the evenings so that Elvis would have his way with you.

And he'd always chuckle at you fondly, adoring your sweet desperation. 

You didn't even know the names of the acts that the two of you were performing but it didn't matter, your head became fuzzier and fuzzier over time, your only goal was to feel the pleasure that Elvis gave you.

And it wasn't long before Elvis realised you were his naive little nymphomaniac.

You were sat in your regular spot in the International, watching Elvis perform. You just thought he was oh so magical, the way he sang, the way he moved and gyrated on stage, captivating you and the rest of the audience. You watched tiny beads of sweat drip down his tanned face onto the chest hairs that were exposed by the white jumpsuit he wore.

He'd look over at you, every now and then, sending you a wink to make sure you knew he remembered that you were the most important little girl in the audience and by the end of the show, that sweet desperation that had started to become an all too familiar feeling, was creeping its way in. 

And Elvis just loved to tease you. He practically relished in watching you whine and plead for his touch and his love, he just thought you were so sweet, especially when you still didn't understand half of what was going on, you just got so carried away. 

So, when you and Elvis finally made it back up to the hotel suite after the show, you were nothing short of desperate. See, Elvis had this thing where he was just so damn nice to everyone that after a show, he'd go around and thank everyone for their hard work, and whilst you loved that about him, you were growing needier and needier by the second.

Elvis knew you all too well though, he knew that he was dragging this out for his little desperate baby. In fact, he didn't just know, he enjoyed it. Elvis decided to drag out the process and turn you into his own needy little mess tonight.

"You look so pretty tonight baby, y'know that? Got all dressed up n'pretty f'me huh?" Elvis teased, lowering his head slightly to kiss the top of yours as his large hand traced your skimpy, sparkly dress that he'd bought for you, only three days before. 

You gulped and nodded quickly, smiling and letting out a giggle - he'd barely touched you and yet there you were all flustered. 

It was no surprise though that just a couple of loving words and a gentle touch from Elvis would send you spiralling each time he did it. You'd never experienced life the way that you had since Elvis came into it, before Elvis, you would attend your part time job, go to the library and do your studies. It was mundane, unexciting, and repetitive. Then, you met the most famous man in the entire world and everything changed, you had so many new experiences from spending hours in lavish boutiques, to dining next to the King of Rock n' Roll as you both sat in the crowd, watching Frank Sinatra singing. 

In all honesty, it was a life you were never prepared for, you still weren't adjusted to it all that well, that's why you clung to Elvis, he was like some form of security blanket for you, a protector of sorts that looked after you and cared for you. He knew you were new to everything so he would always take things slow with you, making sure that you were always okay and comfortable. 

He'd help alleviate the stress of the lifestyle change in lots of ways, for example, he would choose what you wore each day and how you did your hair and make up. Now, many people had called this controlling, but how were you, a girl that had never stepped foot on the Las Vegas strip, supposed to know what to wear to a casino and show? Elvis knew what would look good on you and what would be appropriate for each occasion because Elvis always knew what was best for you. He ended up knowing you better than you knew yourself.

The new world that surrounded you, Elvis' world, was intoxicating. You hardly ever had time to think straight or understand what was going on around you. 

But what you did know was that when Elvis touched you, you felt good, so you chased that feeling. 

"C-Can we, can we do the stuff?" You whispered, avoiding Elvis' gaze.

Elvis smirked, oh Lord you were just the most adorable little thing. "The stuff? Well baby, yer gon' have to use a couple more words than that." Elvis said with a dry chuckle, lighting up one of the Cuban cigars that Sammy Davis Jr had gifted him.

You sighed a little, a mix of desperation, impatience, frustration and embarrassment. "Can, c-can you, touch me?" You asked softly. "Please?" You squeaked, pleadingly.

"Oh Little One," Elvis hushed, causing a sweet whine to leave your lips. "Y'need me t'touch you huh baby?" Elvis teased as you nodded almost frantically with wide eyes, leading him to chuckle at your state. "Need me t'make you feel good hm?" Elvis said, his eyes growing dark in comparison to your wide, sparkly eyes.

"Uh-huh," You squeaked adorably, barely an inch between the two of you. 

God, Elvis could just devour you. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as he cupped your face in his large coarse hands, his left hand also holding his cigar between his fingers, the warm filler of it tinging the skin on your pink cheek, making you wince as you gazed up at him with eyes wider than a Disney princess.

"I ain't gon' touch you tonight honey, no, yer gon' do it all on yer own." Elvis whispered cooly, as you whined at the thought of not having him touch you, your eyes resembling that of a puppy dog as your desperation grew.

"What do you mean?" You murmured looking up at Elvis tentatively with a shaky voice as Elvis placed his large hand on the small of your back and guided you to the bed where he set you down, moving you like you were his own little doll, but in many ways, that's exactly what you were.

"You're so needy Little One, yer gon' have t'learn how to pleasure yerself baby," Elvis teased, facing you as you sat upright, letting his hands roam up your sides as your body trembled in his hold.

You chewed on your lip cutely, "Are you not gon' touch me at all?" You asked, your head tilting.

"No honey, y'gotta learn how to touch yerself, yer gon' touch yerself f'me okay baby?" Elvis instructed and you nodded despite feeling apprehensive. "Good girl." Elvis praised. "All I'm gon' do is get you undressed so I can watch all of you as you play with your lil' pussy."

You shivered as Elvis' coarse hands shimmied your dress up, exposing your white panties that already had a wet patch that was making the fabric sheer and translucent, letting Elvis see the pretty pink flesh that was so needy. 

"Let's get these cute lil' panties off baby, looks like y'need them off." Elvis chuckled making you blush. "Oh baby, m'only teasin." Elvis said, soothing you as he dragged the damp panties over your legs, letting them pool at your feet as he grabbed each leg and helped untangle them from you, all the while being careful not to singe your skin with the burning cigar that he took a puff from every now and then. "Atta girl." He cooed. "Now, pretty girl, spread them legs f'me." Elvis instructed and you did exactly what you were told, gazing at him intently.

Elvis really had taken over your entire life, you basically worshipped the man. Sure, there was a noticeable age difference and there was a definite power imbalance but as much as you worshipped him, Elvis treated you like you were the most delicate, precious thing in his life.

Despite Elvis having all the power, he could practically feel his old men knees buckle whenever you would lie there on the mattress, staring up at him adoringly with those wide eyes full of curiosity and love. Your plump, glossy lips parted ever so slightly as you studied all of Elvis' movements as he took your tender wrist in his large hand, guiding your hand to your slick coated cunt.

Your breathing was shaky at best, your chest rising and falling ever so erratically, making Elvis smirk at how nervous you were, even though he knew how much you needed to be satisfied.

Slowly, he directed his hand over yours, making your soft, small fingers fondle your soaked folds, your slick leaking from your pussy as your fingers traced up and down your slit. 

Your gaze wandered back and forth between Elvis and what was happening 'down there', the curiosity and nervousness getting the better for you as you let out soft gasps and mewls at yours and Elvis' actions.

"Keep going." Elvis commanded, removing his hand from yours, letting you continue on with the motions as you began to pleasure yourself in front of the old man. "Tell me how it feels honey."  Elvis said, his voice emotionless as his eyes darkened on you as you squirmed about.

You blinked hazily, your mind becoming a mess, your attention becoming divided by the overwhelming sense of pleasure and the God of a man that stood at the end of the bed, towering over you, not taking his eyes off you and your body.

Only a single, small lamp illuminated the room in a dull, dark pink tone, the rest of the light coming from the Las Vegas strip, the bright lights reflecting into Elvis' suite, letting Elvis see the silouhette and highlights of your body as you let your fingers rub around your clit in circular motions, eliciting soft whines from you.

"Feels so... feels so nice." You sighed lazily, moving your hips in a pathetic attempt to create more pressure between you and your own hand - but Elvis could only find it adorable how desperate you were. "B-But," You said through breathy whimpers. "Want you."

Elvis smirked, a slight chuckle leaving him, one that had an almost sadistic tone to it as he walked to a chair opposite the bed and sat in it, taking a puff from his cigar, letting the smoke cloud him as he stared at you.

"Not tonight little girl. Yer gon' keep going until yer learn how to make yerself cum like a good girl." Elvis hissed, causing you to whine at his denial. "Tell me what yer gon' learn, I want to hear you say it." Elvis softly demanded.

"Gonna, gonna," You whined, trying to do as you're told all the while touching your cunt. "Learn how t'make myself cum." You recited, your mind becoming hazy and the pace of your fingers quickening.

"Why?" Elvis teased, enjoying watching you battle with yourself, as he made you have to think whilst he knew that all you wanted to do was mindlessly pleasure yourself.

"Good girl, m'a good girl." You whimpered, your eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"That's right baby." Elvis praised, taking a drag from his cigar, never letting his eyes leave your body. "Put your fingers in your pussy for Daddy." Elvis instructed firmly - almost coldly.

You blinked at him, pausing your motions to silently confirm what he had said to you.

"Now." Elvis growled and you nodded tearily, pushing two fingers into your soaked hole, whimpers leaving your lips as your pink cheeks felt tears trickling down them from the sensations and the experience.

"You've never fingered yerself, pretty girl?" Elvis asked, watching your trepidation and jolted movements, he could tell you were experienced from the smallest of things.

All you could manage was a shake of your head as it rested on the mattress, your eyes rolling towards the back of your head as you let your fingers pump in and out of your pink pussy - and if your cheeks weren't already pink enough, Elvis would've seen a blush creeping onto your face at the question.

You cry out adorably from the pleasuring feeling, as you practically hump your own fingers, not noticing that Elvis is now palming the large bulge in his pants.

Oh, how he loved to be the one to corrupt you like this.

"Faster." Elvis demanded before you stared at him with nerves and apprehension in your eyes. "Don't you want to be my good girl?" Elvis teased, exploiting your desire for praise.

You nodded feverishly, tossing your head back onto the mattress as you let your fingers tease your hole at a quicker pace, slipping through your walls, your own slick acting as lube.

"Look at you, so needy, doin' such a good job of playing with your cunt and puttin' on a show fr' Daddy." Elvis praised, knowing his words would send you spiralling.

And he didn't stop, urging you on with gentle commands, praises and downright filthy comments as he got off to you masturbating for the first time.

"Such a needy puppy, ain't ya? That's it, doin' such a good job baby."

"Yer such a pretty sight fr' Daddy, fuckin' yerself with those fingers baby, it's okay, you can go faster, you can do it."

"Just breathe baby, y'can fit in another, I know that pretty pussy of yours can handle it. Good girl, that's it."

"Feelin' good huh? Gon' touch yerself when I'm on stage huh? Yer cunt that desperate huh kid?"

Elvis continued teasing and praising you, talking you through your first orgasm from your own masturbation, your mewls turning into full-blown cries before your body collapsed, and you lethargically pulled your fingers from your glistening, wrecked cunt.

You pushed yourself up and blinked adorably, looking at the wet patches on the silk bedding before you shyly looked up at Elvis.

"M'sorry, I made a mess on your sheets." You whimpered, still feeling overwhelmed and extra-sensitive, sniffling as you wiped away a stray tear.

Elvis couldn't help but smirk at the adorable sight in front of him.

You, the love and light of his life, a naked, flustered, soaked mess on his silk bed sheets, your chest rising and falling erratically as you came down from your self-inflicted high.

"Uh-uh, ain't nothin' t'be sorry about baby." Elvis cooed and he watched relief wash over you as you offered him the goofiest, sweetest smile at the reassurance and Elvis felt his both his heart and cock jump.

How had he been so lucky to have such a sweet, little, naive nymphomaniac such as you?

[urdeadsweetheart]

50s Babydoll dress for my “I do”

[oldnessismyobsession]

THESE PICS.

[arealtrashact]

You look lost...

[newwavesylviaplath]

[lanadelreyyoxoxo]

♡

[presley4president]

Me core:

[drtyelvisfantasy]

elvis’s hands ౨ৎ ᥫ᭡

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[whoopigirlberg2002]

[lvrdollep]

The blue sequin shirt *✧･ﾟ:*

[lustnhim]

‘ doll dizzy.’ — elvis x fem! reader

note: requested / warnings: prob typos + grammar issues, elvis is head over heels for reader, fluff into some smut, p in v sex, lots of kissing, switch elvis (he’s subby but jus’ so happens to be on top) , sleepover at graceland <3 / summary: elvis invites you over to his newly purchased home, graceland, for a sleepover since he hasn’t seen you in so long- you’re just as perfect as he remembers.

Elvis was in love with you. Plain and simple. He always had been– since highschool, since he first saw you. There was something about you, about the way your hair fell, the way your nose crinkled up when you laughed, the way your eyes would twinkle whenever anyone would compliment. Cute as a button. 

Sitting on the couch, the TV playing at such a low volume that it would be impossible to hear– Elvis bit his nails, bounced his leg, tapped his foot on the floor and watched eagerly out the window for the sight of your car. He had painstakingly convinced his beloved mama to let you come over, of course, she was a bit scared that the press would talk since all the papers read his every move; but finally she gave in and decided to oh-so-kindly be out for the weekend with Vernon so the two of you could catch up properly. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of nervous anticipation, Elvis spotted your car pulling up to Graceland. Heart pounding, he raced to the front door, flinging it open before you even had a chance to knock. Good god. You were as beautiful as ever– that flowy dress, that bright smile, you looked like an angel. For a split second Elvis froze, captivated by your sheer beauty before he pulled you into the tightest hug ever. His arms wrapped around you as you giggled,“You miss me that much, El?” You teased, rubbing your hands gently up and down his back. Elvis reluctantly pulled away from the hug, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment before he quickly put his arms at his sides, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Ah, well I spose’ I missed you, I ain’t seen you in what? 4 years?” Elvis said, his crooked smile wide. Shaking your head gently Elvis let out a small ‘oop’ sound before moving to the side, allowing you to come in. 

The inside of Graceland was nothing more than extravagant– something beautiful, unique, but didn’t feel empty or overly-polished. It was homey, comfortable. “Oh Elvis, this is…amazing.” You said, sitting down your bags on the floor to which Elvis quickly picked up behind you. “Thank ya’, all for my mama.” Elvis said, smiling- watching you look around like a kid in a candy store. Those pretty eyes of yours twinkling. You were so beautiful…so, very beautiful. Elvis had to snap out of it because he knew he was staring– he knew that you probably noticed too. “Anyway! I, uh- You wanna go see your room?” Elvis offered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. God he hoped you could see how hard this was for him. How much he wanted you. But he knew he had to play it cool, and had to be a gentleman. You nodded, a smile spreading across your face as you followed Elvis up the stairs, your hand lightly brushing against his. The touch sent sparks through his body, and he had to resist the urge to grab your hand and hold it. As you reached the top of the stairs, Elvis led you down the hallway, past several bedrooms, before stopping in front of a door. "This is your room for the weekend," Elvis said, his voice slightly husky. He opened the door, revealing a lavish bedroom with a king-sized bed draped in silk sheets. "Well doll, this here's your room for the weekend. Hope it's to your likin'." He said in his drawl, more noticeable with his nervousness, he always had the tendency to sound more ‘hick’ when he was nervous like that.  “Thank you so much El! It’s real nice here, I love it already.” You gushed, turning around to face a nervous, flushed Elvis. A little confused, you watched as he swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. "Let me know if you need anything at all, sugar. I'm right down the hall." He gave another crooked smile . "I'll give you some privacy to settle in. When you're ready, why don't you come on down and we'll catch up?" “Sounds good! Thank you so much El! I won’t be long.” You said brightly, excited just to see him. “Sure thing, darlin', take all the time you need. I’ll be waitin' on you downstairs.”  With that, Elvis turned and made his way back to the kitchen, his heart racing and palms sweating. He ran a hand through his slicked-back hair, trying to calm his nerves as he fiddled with the bottles of liquor on the shelf, wondering what they should drink. As he stood there, lost in thought, he heard your footsteps padding down the staircase. Elvis straightened up, putting on his most charming smile as you entered the room. "Feel settled in alright?" He drawled, his honeyed voice smooth as silk. Elvis knew he needed to keep things light, casual, but lord have mercy, just the sight of you made his insides quiver like jelly. He motioned to the bottles in his hands. "I was thinkin' we could have ourselves a little drink, seein' as how it's gettin' late. What's your poison, doll?" Elvis asked with a playful smile, hoping to ease some of the tension crackling between you two. Under the guise of pouring drinks, he snuck glances at you from beneath his lashes, drinking in the sight of your pretty face, those sparkling eyes and soft curves. Sweet Jesus, you were a sight for sore eyes.... “Oh Elvis, You know I hardly ever drink, just pour me whatever you want.” You said, sitting down at the counter, sitting your face in your hands. “Yeah, I know. Lots can change since highschool, for all I know ya could be an alcoholic.” Elvis teased and you shook your head, giggling. Elvis always knew how to make you laugh- it was obvious that singing and moving wasn’t his only talent. “Shew, I missed you n’ your jokes.” You said, as Elvis finished pouring the glasses of whiskey.

"Here ya go, sugar," he said, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed you the glass. "Bottoms up." He raised his own glass in a toast, his eyes never leaving yours. The amber liquid burned going down, and you struggled not to choke. Of course he gave you damn whiskey. Elvis chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement as he watched you struggle with the whiskey. "Ah, I forgot ya didn't much care for the stronger stuff," he drawled, his crooked smile growing wider. "My bad, darlin'. I'll make sure to remember that for next time." Elvis's eyes never left your face, studying every nuance of your expression, drinking you in like a man parched in the desert."So,” he started, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the counter. "What's your life been like since high school? You find yourself a handsome fella yet?" His tone was playful, but you couldn’t help but notice something else, maybe a hint of jealousy? “Lord no, Elvis. I’ve had a few boyfriends but nothin’ meaningful. Nothing i’ve been looking for…” You sighed, watching Elvis carefully, he looked oddly pleased with your answer. “Well how about you? From what I hear girls are rippin’ your clothes off nowadays, literally.” Elvis shook his head, for some reason a part of him hoped you hadn’t seen all that– though he knew it was impossible you hadn’t. “Lord honey, you should see them.” He said, pouring himself another glass of whiskey and offering you some which you quickly declined. “They’ll squeal and hollar like they’re dyin’ and grab all on me! You oughta come watch a show sometime.” Elvis says, swallowing down the whiskey, hoping it would give him some confidence.”No thanks, as much as I love you El I ain't interested in coming to see women drool over you.” You teased, watching Elvis’ facial expression shift. “What? You’d get jealous?” He said, leaning over the counter closer to you, looking a bit nervous - a shy smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe I would.” You said, trying to stay calm. Literally what in the world were you saying? You took one shot of whiskey and were acting like a fool already. Elvis' heart skipped a beat, he tried his best to remain calm, the whiskey acting as a mask for his nervousness, the smirk only growing wider at your admission, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "Would you really be?" he asked, his honeyed voice low and shaky. "I- I can't say I blame ya, honey. I know I sure wouldn't like seein' another man gettin' all riled up over you." He reached out, his fingers grazing along your jawline, tilting your chin up to meet his intense gaze. God the whiskey did him wonders.

Your breath hitched at his touch, electricity crackling between you. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, a feather-light caress that sent shivers down your spine. ”E-Elvis…” You stammered, your heart was racing, your face was flushed and you knew it. You were in love with him. “You look so purty…” He said, tilting your face side by side gently, getting a good look at you. “I always thought you were the prettiest girl I ever saw…” Elvis swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing before he withdrew his now shaking hand. “I-I’m sorry honey…” Elvis says, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, he seems out of breath– like he’s run a marathon. “No, Elvis..” You say gently, reaching for his shaking hand and holding it. “Please don’t be sorry.” Elvis' eyes widened as you took his hand, your soft fingers intertwining with his own. He swallowed hard trying  to steady his breathing. "I can’t help it, " he murmured, his voice low and husky. Elvis' heart was pounding in his chest, the alcohol coursing through his veins only heightening his senses, making every touch, every glance, every word feel so much more. "I-I’ve missed you so much…” he whispered, his lips mere inches from yours. "I ain’t been able to stop thinking about you, you’re just…you’re just perfect." Elvis looked like a sad puppy, his eyes wide, his bottom lip pouting. “Oh Elvis…that ain’t nothing to be sorry for.” You said, gently letting go of his hand and cupping his face. “I-I missed you too…” You whispered as he nuzzled himself into your hand. "Tell me you feel this too," Elvis breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me I ain't the only one goin' crazy here." He searched your eyes, desperate for any hint of reciprocation, any sign that you wanted this as much as he did. “Of course I do.” You said, and Elvis shook his head gently in your hand before raising up. “Please…let me kiss you. I-I got too.” He begged, moving swiftly across the table standing before you while you sat on the stool, you were finally his height like this. Grabbing your hands Elvis hesitated, waiting for you to say anything, to do anything. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as you gazed up at him, lost in the depths of his baby blue puppy eye stare. Elvis's proximity was intoxicating, his scent surrounding you, his warmth seeping into your skin. Slowly, hesitantly, you leaned in closer, your lips parting slightly as if in invitation. "Kiss me, Elvis," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Please."

Elvis' breath caught in his throat at your whispered plea. Without another word, he leaned in, his lips barely brushing against yours in a soft, feather-like kiss. It was electric, sending sparks through his entire body as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. Your hands came up to grip the collar of his shirt, pulling him even closer as his arms wrapped around your waist. God, you felt incredible in his arms, and he never wanted to let you go. Elvis poured all of his pent-up desires and longing into that kiss, his tongue darting out to taste your lips, your tongue, anything he could reach. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating against your lips, and you couldn't help but moan in response, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer. It was like a switch went off in him. All the emotion, all the love he had been holding back for so many years, came flooding out in that one passionate kiss. He trailed his lips along your jawline, down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Your head tilted back, giving him better access as he peppered your skin with kisses, nips, and licks, each one more fervent than the last. "I've wanted this for so long," Elvis breathed against your neck, his words sending shivers down your spine. "I love you, sugar. I've loved you for as long as I can remember." He punctuated each word with a kiss, his hands roaming over your curves, exploring every inch of you as if he were committing it to memory. Suddenly, Elvis lifted you off the stool, holding you tight against his chest as he carried you towards the staircase. "Let me take you to bed, honey," he murmured, his voice laced with need. "Please." He begged, and asif in a daze, you nodded, your lips still swollen and tingling from his kisses. Elvis ascended the stairs, taking two at a time, his heart pounding with anticipation. Once inside your bedroom, he laid you gently on the silk sheets, hovering over you before leaning back down, kissing the spots he had bitten to ease the pain. Leaning up Elvis' hands trembled as he tenderly brushed your hair away from your face, his eyes filled with adoration."You're so beautiful, sugar," Elvis whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I can't believe I'm finally here with you like this." He leaned down, pressing soft, reverent kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and finally, your lips. His hands explored your body, tracing the curves of your hips, the swell of your breasts, the delicate skin of your collarbone. Every touch was gentle, worshipful, as if he were handling the most precious treasure in the world. You responded to his touches with soft gasps and moans, your body arching into his, begging for more. Each sound that escaped your lips was like music to Elvis, each time you moved into his touch, each time you ran your hands through his hair or along his back, his heart would swell. 

His fingers trace along your collarbone, down your chest, and over the swell of your breasts, making your breath hitch with anticipation. He looks up at you before pulling your dress over your head hastily, snapping the middle hook of your bra and allowing it to fall. “Good lord.” He whimpers as he takes one of your breasts in his hand, kneading it gently. “So soft…” He praises, rolling your nipple between his fingers, his free hand resting on your thigh.  He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking the sensitive bud, pressing more of himself onto you, desperate for more. "Elvis," you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. He moves lower, his lips trailing down your stomach. His hands slide down your sides, fingertips skimming along your skin until they reach the waistband of your panties. He hooks his fingers in the fabric and slowly drags them down your legs, tossing them aside. You notice how he’s still shaking, he seems so pent up. “Elvis...Relax..” You coo, and he nods. "I-I’m sorry…You’re just so perfect…." he murmurs, his hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive area. "I want to taste every inch of you." He lays his head on your mound, nuzzling himself there-  his tongue delving between your folds, licking and sucking your clit. Your hips buck off the bed, a sharp cry escaping your lips at the sudden feeling. Elvis moans against your flesh, the vibrations adding to your pleasure. His tongue circles your clit before dipping inside you, fucking you with his tongue, his nose brushing against your clit with each thrust. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs trembling as he works you closer and closer to the edge. Elvis could’ve came in his pants, his pants uncomfortably tight against his throbbing cock- the taste of you on his tongue was heaven. He couldn't stop, his mouth feasting on you as you shook and trembled. “M’ gonna cum..” You stammered as Elvis hands gripped into your hips, pulling you closer into his face. Elvis groans deeply as he feels you tremble and shake against his mouth, your sweet nectar coating his tongue. He continues to lap at your sensitive folds, helping you ride out your intense orgasm. Only when your body goes limp does he pull away, licking his lips and wiping his mouth

. As you lay there, panting and quivering from the aftermath of your intense climax, Elvis leans back up. "You taste so good," he whimpered. "I can't ever get enough of you." His hard cock pressed against your thigh, straining against the confines of his pants. You could feel how much he wanted you, how desperately he ached to be inside you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer, your core grinding against his rock-hard length. Elvis groaned at the contact, his hips bucking involuntarily against you. "P-please.," he whispered, his voice ragged. "I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel." He reached down, his fingers finding your slick folds and dipping inside. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, your walls clenching around his digits. He pumped them in and out, his thumb circling your sensitive clit, coaxing you back to the brink of ecstasy. "Tell me what you want, baby," Elvis murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want to give you everything." Elvis begs, practically humping your leg at this point. “C’mon El…please.” You beg, needing him to be inside of you. Elvis couldn't hold back any longer. With a desperate groan, he fumbled with his belt, finally freeing his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. You marveled at his size, hitting the lower part of his belly, his pink tip peeking out from his foreskin glistening with precum.  “Good lord Elvis.” You whispered as he stroked himself a few times, already looking like he was going to burst. He positioned himself at your entrance, the heat of your core radiating against his sensitive tip. "I love you so much," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to be with you forever." With a slow, steady push, he sank into you, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside your tight warmth. You both moaned at the sensation, your bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces. “Y-You’re so warm…feel…feel sa’ good.” He whimpered, his hands gripping your hips. Elvis began to move, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm. You met him thrust for thrust, your nails digging into his back as you held on for dear life. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your combined moans and whimpers from the both of you. Elvis angled his hips, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you with each pass. "Oh god, baby," he panted, his forehead pressed against yours. "You feel so fuckin’ good." He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, driven by pure instinct and raw desire. You could feel your orgasm nearing. "Elvis!" you cried out, your walls fluttering around his hard length. “I-I wanna fill ya up, please baby l-let me. I wanna…I need ta-” He stammered, his thrusts becoming more desperate- you let out a loud whimper as you came on his cock, squeezing him like a vice Elvis let out groan as his cum coated the inside of your walls, feeling unbelievably full.  Elvis collapsed on top of you, his softening cock still buried inside you as you both struggled to catch your breath. "Y-you’re so perfect," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I love you so much." You smiled, your heart  bursting with love for this man. "I love you too, Elvis.” you replied, taking a hand and running it through his hair. “I-I I’ve thought about that for a real long time.” Elvis confessed. “A real long time.” He continued, placing more soft kisses on your face. Elvis pulls out of you, a small amount of his seed leaking from your used hole as he moves up your body. He rests his head on your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat as it gradually slows. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close as your fingers trail through his hair. You feel safe, cherished, and utterly adored. Elvis starts to doze off, his breathing evening out as he succumbs to sleep. You watch him, marveling at how peaceful and content he looks in your arms. Elvis had never felt so loved in his little old life. Never felt so happy, never felt so complete. All with you.

i’m ngl i have hardly ever wrote any kinda fluff before but i hope this is good 😭 i know it ends in smut but writing sweet stuff like that is so cute and i just love it! i hope y’all enjoyed, love y’all <3

taglist: @hooked-on-elvis @atleastpleasetelephone @lola-1013 @indiatuck @eptodaytommorowforever @suspiciousmindsxo @tupelomiss @myradiaz @i-r-i-n-a-a @elvispresley1956 @sisssygirl @your-nanas-house @callieselvisobsessed @eapep @auntbee22 @wildhorseinkansas @elvisiana @spookyeagleflower @ladelinee @jhoneybees @elviswhore69 @sissylittlefeather @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @louisejoy86 @cherrycolaride @sloppyzengarden @faeolwen @slayingjd @iloveelvisss @theelvisprincess

[wanderingelvis]

firstly, love your work!! second, can you write something about elvis being protective as well as maybe some Memphis Mafia content too? 🎀

i have a few of these requests so hopefully this works for all of them! 🎀🪩🕊️

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

word count: 2,508

pairing: 70s elvis x fem reader

warnings: kinda yandere themes, at least very possessive/protective elvis, manipulation

You’d brought new, fresh light into Elvis’ life. He was deep in his Vegas residency and you were this sweet little thing, bringing soft giggles, affectionate touches and happiness into the International Hotel.

Equally, this purity that you radiated came with a price. Elvis felt a need to protect you, in fact, all of the Mafia did. They were paid handsomely to protect you but even if they weren’t, you tugged on all of their heartstrings and they’d all look out for you, but none more so than Elvis.

Sometimes, he’d take it too far, not that you’d realise. His protectiveness went right over your pretty little head. 

Like the time that he’d kicked out two men from a meet and greet with him after a show because they gave you a “shifty look”, or when he fired a make up assistant for letting you have even so much as a sip of champagne. 

You’d ask about them, where they’d gone as you’d sit on Elvis’ knee and Elvis would plead ignorance, telling you that he ain’t getting involved with none of that personnel nonsense and you’d nod before turning back to your fashion magazine.

It was after a show that you thought was simply magical that you decided you needed to find a way to celebrate that success with Elvis. 

And so, you settled on getting Elvis a cupcake. 

You’d seen a stand of cupcakes as you’d headed into the auditorium before the show, as you’d been escorted in, with Elvis’ stepmother Dee holding your hand painfully tightly, seeing you as more of a burden than a friend. You had wanted to stop to try one of the cupcakes but Dee had yanked your wrist a little too harshly that you didn’t get the chance.

You had wished that you’d be free to roam around on your own but Elvis had made it clear that you were always to have an escort.

He insisted that of course he trusted you, it was strangers he didn’t trust, he couldn’t, he tried to explain to you as you nodded albeit with those adorable pouty lips.

In truth, he knew you were a mischevious and curious little thing, and not only that but you were just a little too naive to be left to your own devices. 

He just knew, if someone tried to take advantage of you, they’d be able to succeed just too easily and to that end, Elvis had made a rule to always be escorted, whether you liked it or not.

But you’d decided you were a big girl, you could surely get a cupcake on your own as a present for Elvis after his amazing show and it would be okay. 

Surely.

So as the crowd roared with applause, you scooted over in the booth to Larry Geller, the latest of Elvis’ entourage.

“‘Scuse me Larry, I, um, I gotta go to the ladies room and then I gotta go n’grab this, um, this cupcake for E, I wanted t’get him this present because, well, see that was such a lovely show, and um,” You quickly realised you were rambling to justify being left alone. “I wanted to get him somethin’ pretty!” You said softly with your big eyes glittering.

“Well, you sure you can go on yer own kid? Y’know I was told that you s’posed t’have someone with yer.” Larry mumbled, not really paying attention to you but watching a gaggle of female Elvis fans that were waving to get the attention of the Mafia as Elvis could be seen heading backstage.

“Oh sure Lar! It’s just the ladies room! I’ll be back in no time!” You said, seizing your opportunity. “Promise!” You giggled, scrambling out of the booth and making your way to the cupcake stand.

By the time you’d reached the stand, shuffling through all the bodies piling out of the auditorium, you were enchanted by all the different pretty cupcakes, delicately iced and decorated individually.

Meanwhile, backstage, Elvis had reached his dressing room only to be greeted by the Mafia and not the one single person he actually wanted to see. 

“Where is Y/N?” Elvis said sternly, looking around the room and missing an absent baby.

“She wanted to surprise you with a cupcake so she went to the stand in the lobby.” Larry informed him, not thinking anything of it. 

And suddenly, the tension in the room went from 0 to 100 as everyone else, more experienced with Elvis’ rules and regulations, especially towards you, knew what a monumental fuck up had just occurred.

“What do you mean she’s gone to the lobby? Who’s with her?” Elvis practically spat, his eyes scanning the room to see no one else missing but you.

“I- I sent her on her own.” Larry stammered, realising the error he’d made.

“Goddamn it!” Elvis shouted, slamming his whiskey glass on the table, causing it to shatter and make grown men flinch. “Go get her now. If she’s noticed and I swear to God, if that little girl is hurt, if any goddamn motherfucker has put their hands on her, I’ll kill all of you with my own goddamn hands.” Elvis roared.

A big group left the room and headed out in search of the little girl who was currently in the hotel lobby. 

“It’s you!” A shrill voice hollered at you just as you’d purchased a strawberry cupcake, making you glance up. “You’re Elvis’ chick,” the elderly lady said, partially to you, partially to her friend next to her as the two older women cornered you, the little thing as you held the cupcake for Elvis in your hands, your eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“I, um, I-“ You stammered, the poor baby. 

“You are a weird little thing aren’t you?” One of them said cruelly. 

“It’s like what they say in the papers about her being like some kinda little pet of Elvis’.” The other one said, in an observational tone that made you scrunch your eyebrows sweetly in confusion. 

“Wha-“ You managed to murmur before being interrupted.

Because then the pile on started, as the enormous crowd started noticing you.

“Y/N, over here!”

“Is it true Elvis dresses you?”

“Does Elvis control you?”

“Are you really a virgin?” 

“Would ya sign this for me?”

“Who did you screw to get with Elvis?”

With tears swelling up in your big eyes and your big bottom lip jutted out, wobbling as amxiety consumed you, all you had wanted was a cupcake for Elvis. 

But maybe he had been right all along, maybe you did need someone with you at all times. 

“Y/N, come here, come with us!” An older lady said, grabbing your forearm with a pinch, making the little girl yelp.

“No, no!” You whimpered as hot tears started to spill from your eyes and down your cheeks. You cowered, trying to wriggle away from the lady. 

You were close to a fully blown panic attack, not that you knew what the words were for that. You just knew you needed your Daddy. 

“Get away from her! I said move!” A loud voice yelled. You recognised the voice as Red West and saw him and Jerry making their way through the crowds.

Red got the woman off you with ease as you clung to Jerry, petrified of your surroundings.

“S’alright now honey, we’re gon’ get you back to EP, you’re okay now darlin’.” Jerry lovingly reassured, sensing how terrified you were, as you sniffled and were rushed away by him.

Truth be told, Jerry thought Larry was a bit of an ass, he understood why Elvis liked him but he knew he wasn’t the right person to leave you with.

You were quickly ushered into the security room where you saw Elvis, surrounded by his entourage and you wasted no time in running over to him.

“There’s my little one.” Elvis soothed, consoling his baby, rubbing circles in your back as you hiccuped and clung to him. “Breathe now baby, deep breaths f’me. Are ya hurt lil’ one?” Elvis cooed but he didn’t give you the time to respond. “Jer, she hurt?” Elvis almost barked.

Jerry stood there, hands on his hips and shaking his head. “I don’t know, boss. There was a crowd and some old lady was hollerin’ at her when I got to her.” 

“A-a lady, a-a lady grabbed me and um, she wanted to, she wanted to take me away and I- I didn’t wanna, I didn’t wanna go Daddy,” You sniffled oh so vulnerably, letting out the nickname Elvis had instructed you to give him and one that slipped out when you did indeed feel needy.

Elvis felt his heart yearn to comfort you but he was still seething at the massive oversight that had taken place, as well as the fact that you’d disobeyed his rule.

“Honey, you know what our rule is about wandering off?” Elvis said coolly, devoid of emotion as he was trying to restrain his anger.

You nodded your head feebly, your cheeks turning a softer pink at the slight embarrassment you felt from Elvis talking down to you in front of all of the guys. “To not wander off on my own and always tell you where I’m goin’ to keep me safe.” You recited sadly in a soft voice. 

“Ain’t that right.” Elvis said lowly. “So why, did ya think it would be a bright lil’ idea to disobey me huh kid? Y’need me t’spank that sweet little ass right here and now so that y’learn and start listenin’ t’me? Is that what y’need huh?” Elvis chastised. 

You knew all of the guys were uncomfortable but you also knew that Elvis didn’t give a damn, his eyes trained darkly on you and oh boy, did it make you feel the size of a mouse.

You looked around, embarrassed with your wet lashes fluttering as you sniffled a little more, an overwhelming bundle of feelings, including feeling scared, shy, panicked, embarrassed and relieved all swelling in your little tummy.

“Well honey? Y’gon use that mouth little one or do I gotta pull you across m’knee?” Elvis said, taking his index finger under your chin and tilting it as he towered over you, so that your watery eyes could meet his.

“I just wanted to get you a cupcake…” You choked out as Elvis’ brows furrowed with confusion.

“A cupcake?” Elvis said, his expression softening as it so often would whenever you spoke.

You nodded with a pout, your swollen bottom lip jutted out. 

You weren’t intentionally trying to melt Elvis’ heart with those soft, sad puppy dog eyes, you were just naturally so sweet that Elvis couldn’t resist abandoning his threats. 

“Uh huh!” You whined. “See, I saw these pretty cupcakes, the ones, the ones out there!” You exasperated, turning your body to point in the direction of the lobby. “Them ones with the decorations and the icing and I just,” You and Elvis both realised that you were getting all worked up again.

“Baby,” Elvis hushed, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. 

He could tell just by your odd albeit cute passion for this cupcake that you were telling the truth and you really didn’t want to be in trouble.

You tried the breathing technique that Elvis had taught you for when you so often get a little too overwhelmed as your breaths got ragged. “M’sorry.” You mumbled.

“S’okay baby,”

“I just, you did such a good show, I mean, y’know  I love every show n’you were just so good n’ all, I just, just wanted to get you a present for it. And, see, the cupcakes were just so pretty!” You whimpered, pleading your case. “I know, I know I ain’t s’posed t’be wanderin’ off, I just really wanted t’get you the cupcake. I promise I ain’t gonna go on my own again, not ever!” You promised, your eyes wide, trying to convince Elvis. 

Elvis looked down at your poor state, he knew it had been a scary experience for you, he just needed to look at the way you were picking at your own fingers, actin’ all fidgety. 

When he looked up to observe the expressions on the Mafia’s faces, he knew they all agreed. His sweet thing meant no malice and she sure as hell had been spooked enough to never want to go anywhere without someone with her — and maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all, Elvis thought.

“M’real sorry.” You said softly, calmer now that you’d finally managed to get your words out, even if they weren’t exactly coherent.

Elvis smirked as he saw a cupcake box on the side that you’d clearly put down before you’d run into his big arms only moments before. 

“That the ‘oh so special’ cupcake huh little one?” Elvis said with a smile, pointing his index finger to guide your vision.

You simply nodded, you didn’t really have all that much energy left, you were so overstimulated, you poor thing.

“Jer, hand me that box will ya?” Elvis hollered, with Jerry moving swiftly to grab the box and place it in your hands, the odd sniffle coming from you, observing it all. “Want me t’take a look, dolly?” Elvis asked you, his tone now noticeably gentler than it had been.

“Yup.” Is all you managed to muster as Elvis took your little hand in his big one and guided you to the couch, letting you nestle into his side.

You watched with glassy eyes the man you adored with all your heart open the box, showing a pretty little cupcake, even if it was the tiniest bit battered from all the chaos. 

“Oh baby, how did y’know this one would be my favourite huh? How’d you get so clever?” Elvis cooed, realising his job was now to make you feel better.

“Really?” You squeaked, pushing yourself up from his chest to observe his expression as you bit your finger. 

Elvis grabbed your hand to gently pull it away from your mouth, he never approved of you biting your nails, it would make you sick and that’s the last thing he wanted. 

“That’s right darlin’.” 

“They gave it a name, it’s called ‘The King’.” You said gently before Elvis threw his head back with laughter at having a cupcake named after him. “That’s why I got it!” 

Your whole body began to untense at his laughter and you looked around to see all of his entourage too, laughing at what you’d said, making you feel better.

“Oh baby, whatever am I gon’ do with you hey?” Elvis chuckled, pulling you in to lovingly pepper your face with kisses, eliciting sweet giggles from you.

Despite it being a rhetorical question, Elvis knew exactly what he was going to do with you.

He would never again let you get into such a vulnerable and volatile situation again. He was going to make sure you were always looked after  and always kept by his side. 

Constantly. 

[parchmentknight]

yeah mr. the king bust it down yeah yeah uh yeah yeah

i finally finished this piece. i still have some qualms with it though, but if i didnt finish it now it would stay rotting in my ibispaint app and the thought of it staying unfinished would haunt me. if i get another wave of "king new vegas/elvis hyperfixation" then... maybe ill do another. actively avoiding looking too long at him because then i start picking it apart and seeing all the mess-ups and UGH. im gonna listen to some elvis.

minorly unrelated but im devastated that i will never see a real frank sinatra, dean martin, perry como, and other ratpack concert... i was watching dean martin's live concert in london with my dad and i was just lamenting. I WANT TO SEE THEM MAKE FUN OF EACH OTHER AND PUSH EACH OTHER OFF THE STAGE!!!! dean martin and sinatra just fooling around, the atmosphere, the music (guy who only listens to 40s, 50s, and sometimes 60s all day every day), the comedy? everything except, you know, the beliefs and bad stuff. i like having rights.

and i gave him a spiked baseball bat instead of a mic. yippee!

[spoiledstarlets]

[oldnessismyobsession]

Hey so I’m going insane

He’s such a cutie