#Big daddy elvis

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Epilogue

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 1.3K

TWs: Just a little dirty talk really.

A/N: Well, this is the end! Thanks to everyone who has interacted with this fic - it was a labour of love and I have cherished every single comment, reblog and message 💕

When Tegan wakes the next morning she feels the events of the night before in her body before she remembers them. As they start to come back to her, slowly at first and then more and more rapidly she feels a smile spreading across her face. She’d enjoyed last night. A lot. She rolls over to find Elvis already sat up in bed, reading. Groaning and stretching, she tries to wake herself up properly. It’d been really late when Jerry had finally left their bed for his own; they’d spent hours talking together about all sorts of things. 

“Mornin’ sunshine.”

Elvis closes the book and puts it down on the bedside table, looking at his girlfriend as she peers back through half-open eyes. 

“Mmmm. ‘Raur.”

“How ya feelin’?”

She closes one eye and squints at him through the other. “Thoroughly fucked.”

That earns her a belly laugh, one of her absolute favourite Elvis reactions. “Well that’s coz ya were, baby.”

She closes both eyes and puts her face in her hands, giggling. “I loved it,” she admits, still hiding. 

“Hmmm. Well it was a damn good Christmas gift, considerin’ ya didn’t even know Jerry was comin’ until the night before.”

She looks up, cautiously. “You think I’m a slut, for doing that? I only just met the guy…”

Elvis shakes his head, leaning down to kiss the top of hers. “Baby, I used ta fuck a different girl every night on some tours. Met ‘em, liked ‘em, made ‘em cum. Plus I know ya only jus’ met ‘im, but Jerry’s been my best friend fer years.”

Tegan thinks about this as she slowly sits up. “You ever do this with Stella?”

He blinks in surprise. “Uh… no.”

“Oh.”

“I uh… she wanted the picket fence life.”

She shifts to lean against him. “What kind of life do you want?”

“One with you in it, honey.”

She smiles against his pyjama top. “Me too.”

“But, uh, not one with Jerry… y’know…”

“I’m not sure I do know.”

Elvis sighs. “Yer makin’ me say it, again.”

“I mean, last night you told me you and Jerry used to take it in turns to fuck women you met on tour. And now you’re going all shy again?”

“I was a little drunk last night, darlin’.”

Tegan looks up at his face from her position with her head against his shoulder. “What’re you trying to say, ‘raur? Spit it out.”

Another deep sigh. “Last night was fun. But I don’t want Jerry as a permanent fixture in our bedroom.”

Tegan raises an eyebrow. 

“I don’t want him fuckin’ ya all the time!” Elvis snaps, exasperated. “Yer mine. I don’t mind if he borrows ya, under supervision… on special occasions y’know. But not…” he sighs again and waves a finger around in a circle. “This… ain’t a thing.”

Tegan smiles at his possessiveness. She feels like she ought to be offended by him talking about her like she’s a rare library book, but instead it makes her feel all warm inside. 

“I enjoyed last night a lot,” she begins, wrapping her arm around him. “I’m glad we did it. And if you and Jerry want to do it again before he leaves, then I’d be down. But I don’t want anything more than that. One boyfriend is enough.”

It’s Elvis’ turn to raise an eyebrow. “Ya wanna do it again?”

She giggles into his shoulder. “Mmm. Yeah.”

“Well, we’ll see about that, little girl…”

***

Elvis, Tegan and Jerry have fun together again more than once, but after Elvis’ massive New Year’s Eve party Jerry goes back to LA, and although they both miss him they’re glad to be back to just the two of them for a while. They get professional photos taken of the two of them with Coffi, and the best one - where they have forgotten the camera and are just staring into one another’s eyes, giggling over some shared joke or other - hangs with the other family shots on the wall in the living room of Graceland. They share their time between the mansion and the apartment, and despite Elvis’ best attempts to persuade her to give it up, Tegan continues working at the recording studio, though she drops down to three days a week as a compromise. She finally takes her grading seriously, and by the end of the year she’s a purple belt. Elvis is proud of her, but he still thinks she could practise more at home. 

He travels less for work now, feeling content staying in Memphis for months at a time. There are still times when he has to pay one of the studios on the other side of the country a visit, and Tegan can’t always take time off work to go with him. He misses her like crazy, but she’s secretly a little relieved to have time to herself, though of course she doesn’t tell him that. 

One day after a trip to Kansas, he presents her with a big box with a pink bow on the outside. 

“Jus’ somethin’ for ya for next time I’m away.”

Tegan’s mind boggles at the possibilities, but nothing she thinks of is what she eventually finds in the box. 

“It’s…a bear?”

“Squeeze ‘im.”

Tegan puts both hands around the middle of the teddy and squeezes.

“Daddy misses ya, Tegan bach.” The teddy bear says, in Elvis’ unmistakable drawl. 

Tegan squeals, then giggles, then squeezes it again to see if it does the same thing, which it does. 

“He’s from build-a-bear,” Elvis explains. “Got ‘im from the second store in the country. Ya make ‘im yerself, put a little heart in him…” he smiles, bashfully. “...an’ ya can record a little thing for ‘im ta say. Got them ta open the store in the middle of the night fer me so I didn’t get papped doin’ it.”

“Aww ‘raur!” Tegan throws an arm around Elvis’ neck, cuddling him close and holding the bear out to the side slightly to avoid squashing him. “He’s adorable. You’re adorable.”

“Glad ya like ‘im, honey.”

They pull apart and she looks down at the bear again. “He needs a name.”

Elvis’ arm slips around her waist and he presses his lips to her ear. “Why don’tcha call ‘im Elvis?”

Tegan pushes on his chest, laughing. “Don’t be filthy now! This is a nice, cute bear!”

“Me? Filthy? I don’t know whatcha mean, Queenie.”

He’s desperately trying to keep a straight face, but Tegan can see his eyes shining with amusement. 

“You’re giving me a bear to keep me company when you’re away, and you want me to name him Elvis?” Her eyebrow is raised and her hand is on her hip, but she’s struggling to keep from laughing, too. 

“Uh huh. Ya can cuddle up ta him in bed when I’m not there.”

“Right, right, yeah of course. That’s all you meant.”

“Sure.” His lip is quivering at this point, as he tries desperately not to grin. “I mean I wouldn’t want ta get between a girl an’ her bear, and whatever else she might wanna do with him when she’s missin’ me…”

“Elvis Presley.” Tegan uses her best school teacherish tone, but eventually the pressure of trying not to laugh gets to be too much and they both burst into peals of laughter. 

“What?!”

She hits him with the bear, inadvertently making the voice go off and their hysterics even worse. 

“Hey, you’ll hurt ‘im!”

“I’ll hurt you in a minute!”

They keep giggling as Elvis pulls her in close, pressing his forehead against hers. 

“Yer always makin’ me laugh, little darlin’,” he breathes. “‘M glad I came ta teach that karate class.”

“I’m glad too, ‘raur.”

“Don't know what I'd do without ya, Queenie.”

She smirks. “Well I can get you your own bear if you really want…”

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy

[lustnhim]

he’s just so perfect.

[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?

[mirkasblog]

𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮

[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. 

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[sissylittlefeather]

If I Can Dream: Chapter 1

A/N: Man, I've been so back and forth on whether to publish this one or just keep it to myself forever. This series is very near and dear to my heart, so I'd love to hear your thoughts if you enjoy it.

An extra special thank you to my besties @ccab and @atleastpleasetelephone for all their encouragement. Thanks for putting up with me! I love you both! 🩷🩷🩷

Summary: It's 1975 and Jo Bellamy has been in love with Elvis for 20 years. She doesn't even care that they haven't met yet. All she needs is a chance and she's determined to get one.

But Elvis doesn't feel much like Elvis anymore. What happened to the man he used to be? He's pretty sure he's long gone.

Can a chance encounter with Jo change the ill-fated trajectory of his life?

Warnings: this will eventually have smut, but is pretty fluffy/angsty for now. Elvis is sad and dealing with self esteem issues. There's also a small mention of drug use. Jo smokes cigarettes.

Word count: ~2.4k

Elvis looks at himself in the mirror again and tries not to cringe. At least he was able to zip the jumpsuit and get the belt on. The silver phoenix spreads across his torso, distracting from the rest of him. But he's not used to seeing this old man looking back at him. He touches his face gently, his rings glittering in the light, and sighs deeply. It wasn't so long ago that he was a sleek, handsome sex machine and now he's this. Old and tired and fat. Washed up. That's what the magazines say: washed up.

“EP, it's time!” Jerry hollers from the hallway. Elvis takes another deep breath and groans when the belt cuts into his stomach.

It's December of 1975 and Elvis is back in Vegas to finish the engagement he started in August that landed him in the hospital yet again for exhaustion. He's not sure he'll make it through this one either, but he's determined to try. If he doesn't have anything left to offer on stage, what the hell is the point?

He closes his eyes and turns from the mirror, walking to the door. Before he opens it, he rearranges his face into a smile. Nobody needs to know how he feels.

******

Jo looks in the mirror and moves a few pieces of her hair around on her forehead. When she came home with her pixie cut a few weeks ago, her best friend almost lost it. Evelyn couldn't believe Jo'd cut off all of her beautiful hair right before she was supposed to be in her wedding. But Jo was tired of messing with it. This was much easier and she liked the way it made her look young and fun. At 36, she was eager for anything that made her look younger.

She touches her cheek and looks at her eye makeup in the mirror. She has on the kind of thick black liner and mascara that makes her eyes look wide and doll-like and was popular when she was younger. Makeup is a little less dramatic now, but she likes this look better than the current style.

Her lavender shirt is almost see-through and her navy pants hug her ass just right. She's got a nice body, for her age, having been blessed with a fast metabolism and well-proportioned curves.

“Jo Bellamy, you're a catch.” She says it out loud to the mirror and nods affirmatively. Evelyn laughs from the bathroom and hollers amidst her giggles.

“Yeah, too bad you're too busy runnin’ to let a man catch you!” Jo looks at her friend and crinkles her nose.

“I'd stop for the right man.” Evelyn snorts.

“He'd have to be a hell of a man to stop you.”

“Yes, he would. I won't settle for anything less than the deepest love.” Jo smiles dreamily as her friend walks back into their hotel room. They've come to Vegas to celebrate Evelyn's last weekend as a single woman.

“Is that why you insisted on seeing Elvis? You think he's the right man?” Evelyn pokes Jo in the side and they both giggle.

“Ah yes, Elvis Presley. The man that no one else can live up to. He's the reason I've been single all these years, you know.”

“Oh, I'm aware. And it's ridiculous. We've seen him how many times, now?”

“Six. But I've never been on the front row. This is a big deal.” Evelyn looks at Jo nervously.

“You're gonna do something crazy, aren't you?” Jo pretends to be offended.

“Moi?! Noooooo, never.” But her reassurance is not received. Evelyn has known Jo since second grade. The only thing you could count on with her was that she'd do something crazy.

“Just don't get us kicked out again.” Jo laughs, thinking of how she'd been carried out of a venue in ‘72 for trying to get to his car after a concert.

“Hey, the show was over!” Evelyn rolls her eyes. She's been there for Jo's whole Elvis-obsessed life, from seeing him in 1955 on the back of a truck in a parking lot in Memphis, to being at the train station when he left for the army, to seeing every single movie, to flying to Vegas when he opened there in 1969. She used to be just as big of a fan, but that faded when she met Phil five years ago. Now, she just thinks it's time for Jo to grow up and move on like she did. Jo winks. “But I make no promises. I'm getting desperate.”

She has no intention of moving on. Elvis is the only man who has ever been consistent in her life, even if he doesn't know who she is. And now he's not married anymore, so she feels better about trying to catch him. Tonight might be her only chance to be this close to him. She's not going to waste it.

******

Elvis moves around the stage, doing his normal show routine. He's absolutely exhausted and the crowd's energy feels off. Honestly, he's not far from just walking off and calling it a night. He doesn't even kiss anyone during Love Me Tender, just tosses a couple of scarves into the audience.

“Something's wrong.” Jo mutters to Evelyn.

“What do you mean?”

“With him. Something's wrong.” Evelyn studies her friend. Jo is watching him like a hawk, her eyebrows pulled together.

“You know, I read a thing about him being on drugs-” Jo whips her head around.

“No. This is different. He's sad. He's not high.” Evelyn wonders how she can tell the difference, but doesn't push her on it.

By the end of the show, though, Jo is trying desperately not to cry. Her heart is broken for him and she can't even really say why. When he starts the last song, she stands up.

“Jo! Josephine! Sit down!” Evelyn pulls on her hand. Her heart is in her throat, but she can't let him leave the stage like this.

Elvis notices a girl in the front row standing as he starts his last song. He can't believe he made it to the end of the show and he's ready to leave this stage and never come back. But he can't take his eyes off the girl that's standing. He thinks about going to the edge of the stage to give her a scarf and a kiss, but before he can do that, she acts.

Jo pushes her chair to the edge of the stage, stands on it, and drags herself up onto the platform. Evelyn is yelling at her, but she blocks her out. Her heart is pounding and she knows she has about three seconds before Charlie grabs her, so she goes straight to Elvis.

Elvis is in shock as the girl runs to him and launches herself into his arms, wrapping herself around his neck. It's certainly not the first time a fan has come up on stage, but it's been a little while. He relaxes a bit when she kisses his cheek and whispers.

“It's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay. We still love you. I still love you.” He smiles a bit and whispers back.

“Thank you, dear.”

And then Charlie is there with his arms around her waist and she lets go of Elvis and allows herself to be carried away. He almost grabs her hand, but he stops himself. She's got to be crazy, coming up on the stage like that. But she didn't feel crazy; she felt desperate, and he understands that feeling. Even beyond that, her words were kinder than anything he's experienced in a while. There's a kind of ache to hear more of what she has to say.

The show ends and he calls Joe over to him.

“Find her.”

“Which one?”

“The one who came up on the stage, dumbass.” Elvis knows they're wasting precious time and she might be leaving.

“Oh. I'm sorry boss-”

“What did you do?”

“It wasn't me! They escorted her out of the venue.” Elvis feels rage bubble up inside him.

“THEY KICKED HER OUT?!” He bellows and kicks over a chair backstage.

“Security did! They figured you would want her gone!” Joe is obviously starting to panic. Elvis rounds on him and his eyes burn with anger.

“You find her. Go now. Find her.”

“But boss you could have-”

“I WANT HER.” Joe knows when it's time to stop arguing and get to work, so he nods quickly and takes off. “I want her…”

He whispers it quietly to himself, a little surprised that he said it. There hasn't been anyone he's wanted in a while. But something about her was different. He tells himself he's just curious to figure it out. That has to be it.

******

Jo grunts in frustration again and lights her cigarette while they wait for a cab to take them back to their hotel.

“Well, what did you think was gonna happen?!” Evelyn is less than amused by Jo's decision to run up on the stage and get them both kicked out.

“I dunno. This, I guess. But I still wanted to see the end of the show. Also it felt like he wanted to talk to me more.” Evelyn rolls her eyes so hard Jo is afraid it might be painful.

“You just want that to be true.”

“No! You weren't up there with him.”

“Jo, this is ridiculous. He's a celebrity. You don't know him.”

“I don't have to know someone to know when they're in need.” She stamps on her cigarette as a cab pulls over to them and they climb inside. Evelyn tells the cabbie where to take them and they ride in silence the rest of the way.

Joe gets to the sidewalk just as their cab pulls away. He doesn't know it was her in the car, though, so he runs around frantically looking. After almost an hour, he goes back to Elvis, ready to have his tail kicked for failing.

“You didn't find her?” Joe shakes his head sullenly and looks at the floor. Elvis has his jumpsuit off and his pajamas and robe on. He'd lost hope after about twenty minutes of Joe being gone. “Oh well.”

Joe leaves and Elvis turns all the lights off and closes the curtains, leaving the room almost pitch black until he turns the televisions on. He swallows a handful of pills and settles on the couch.

They'll head back to Memphis in a few days and he'll have some peace. Still, some part of him wishes she wasn't out of his life forever. Just another woman to add to his list of regrets. Too bad he doesn't even know this one’s name.

******

Evelyn and Jo leave Vegas the next day and go back home to their normal lives. Evelyn is preparing for the wedding and Jo is watching the papers for news that Elvis is back in Memphis. Despite all the urging from Evelyn to give up, she's not quite ready to quit. Not when it seems like he might need her. Evelyn just rolls her eyes and tells her she better not miss the wedding because she's chasing an impossible dream.

When she sees that Elvis gets home a few days later, Jo leaves work in the middle of the day to go to the Graceland gates. He's already inside when she gets there and joins the throng of women outside waiting for him. She's instantly annoyed by their presence and knows he must be too, so she turns and walks back to her car.

Elvis is in his bedroom with the lights off. He peeks out the window briefly and sees the crowd at the gates. It should encourage him, but it doesn't. He's convinced they're all just dreaming of a man that doesn't exist anymore. He closes the heavy drapes and crawls into bed, even though it's the middle of the day. Even reading sounds too daunting right now, so he just closes his eyes. He knows he won't sleep, but he can at least pretend to try. Maybe it'll help this feeling go away.

Jo comes back to Graceland at about 1:30 in the morning and is excited to see that all the other fans have gone home. She stands at the gates for a bit, but it's so cold that she starts to lose feeling in her fingers and toes. The house is mostly dark, but she knows he's in there and he's probably awake. With his performance schedule in Vegas, there's no way he's not a night owl. She walks back to her car to warm up and look around for some way she can try to get his attention. Then she sees it in her backseat: a ream of copy paper. There's a black marker in her purse that she keeps there just in case, so she digs it out. She writes on the paper in big letters:

I’M THE GIRL THAT HUGGED YOU ON STAGE ON SATURDAY.

She'll have to assume she's the only one that did that. She writes it on a few more papers and then scribbles her name and phone number on all of them.

“This is crazy.” Jo mutters to herself as she stands at the gates, bouncing from one foot to the other with an armload of paper airplanes. It takes her a few tries and she has to walk to a place where the wall is a little lower, but eventually she's able to sail all of them over to his side. She imagines that the guards are probably getting a good kick out of what she's doing, but she doesn't care. This is too important. But she's done all she can do tonight. The ball is now literally in his court. Hopefully, he'll see the notes and call her. Or he won't and she can finally put to rest this idea that she has stuck in her brain and go on that date with Alan from work. He's been after her for months now and she's running out of excuses to say no. Jo gets back in her car, rubbing her hands together for warmth, and says a silent prayer that Elvis will call.

******

Until Chapter 2!

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[callieselvisobsessed]

Keep loving on me honey

4K Words (whoops!) Pairing: 60'sElvis! x Curvy!Reader

Warnings: Smutttty smut, p in v, fingering, use of Daddy, reader is insecure about her body slightly, creampie, The Colonel is mentioned (ew). Swearing, Obviously 18+ so minors DNI thankyouuu, if I've forgot anything please let me know!

So this is my first ff, lemme know what you guys think and if I should do another one or not lmao. Enjoy!

This’d been the first time in a long time that you felt… off. Something clearly wasn’t right, every outfit you had tried on did not hug your curves the way clothes used to. As you stood at your full length mirror in yours and Elvis’s bedroom at Graceland, this uncomfortable feeling clearly was not going to disappear. You weren’t about to let it ruin your time though, Elvis had invited the Memphis Mafia and their wives for a barbeque and pool party, so you wanted to look your best. You had decided on a brown sun dress, the material was comfortable, light and made the off feeling subside slightly. The dress had just enough of your breasts showing that you wouldn’t stand out too much.  Youd stand out to Elvis though, you always did. Regardless of the outfit or lack thereof. He loved you hopelessly, endlessly, with his whole beautiful soul. You knew what you meant to him and how much he meant to you. It was these occasions of quality family time that you got to see the side of him a select few got to see.  You wanted to make the time you had together special, as he was in Vegas performing at the International Hotel most days. You loved seeing him on the stage, giving every audience an almost ethereal experience, a once in a lifetime show. To see his passion and love for the music and the performance vibrate through his entire body made you love him more than words could ever describe. It also made you feel a lust no other man could ever make you feel. Those gyrating hips, his sweaty chest, the noises of pleasure he’s make, knowing you were watching, knowing just how to tease you…

You found yourself getting carried away in the mirror and running your hands across your cleavage, across the soft skin peeking above your dress and down your waist. Your skin began to feel all too hot at just the mere thought of your perfect partner, your imagination would carry you away most of the time. With him being away so often as he was, you’d miss him dearly in the day and crave him desperately in the night. The way you’d make love to each other consumed your being; the tender but intense way he’d grab your wrists and pin them above your head, his hitch in breath when he’d enter you from behind, his praises and moans of “that’s it baby”, “such a good lil girl for me”, “o-oh come on honey.. cum for me..”…

“Y/N?”

Your daydreaming was interrupted as Elvis opened the door and began to walk towards you. “Ya’ almost ready honey? People should be here soon.” You turned around and smiled at your lover. He was wearing black shorts and a red shirt, you always loved red on him. Any colour will look astonishing when you’re that handsome. “Nearly baby, just deciding on my outfit. Whatchu’ think?” you did a small twirl and showed the dress to him fully. You still had your doubts, but Elvis always knew what to say to make you feel sexy. He chuckled softly at your twirl and said “mmm well aren’t you a pretty lil thing? Cmere honey, twirl for me again..” He grabbed your hand and span you slowly around, causing you to giggle while he watched you, looking you up and down and biting his lower lip. He pulled you closer to him, sighed and wrapped his arms around your curvy hips. “I love this dress on you Y/N.. lookin’ all dolled up just for me… ” With a squeeze of your ass, Elvis leaned down and kissed you quickly, teasingly. Continuing to knead, he slowly kissed down your exposed neck and collarbone, grazing his hot tongue against you. “so I should wear this one then?” You sighed and moaned softly. Knowing you didn’t want him to stop, he moved further down and began to kiss and nibble at the top of your breasts, licking and sucking at your skin until he made a soft “hmmm” sound, clearly enjoying what you were doing to him with your body. To your surprise and frustration, he stopped, let go of your body and took a step back, smiling. That smile was too smug for your liking, why did he have to tease you like this? He knew just what to do to get you riled up and part of you hated that. “hmphh Elvis…” you whined, knowing how needy you sounded but didn’t care. “What honey?..” he matched your whiny tone, fake pouting. You were not in the mood to be teased today. If he wanted to play this game, then you were all for it. You span back around to the mirror and readjusted your dress and smoothed it down. “I’ll be ready soon baby, not if you keep distracting me though.” You faked a careless demeanour, but the ache between your legs was almost unbearable now. He added fuel to the fire and he knew it. You saw him smile lovingly at you in the mirror. “mhm, well don’t let me get in ya’ way now..”. He stepped towards you again and put his hand on your shoulder, kissing the back of your hair. He closed his eyes and you could feel him breathe you in. You wanted to melt into his touch but needed to finish getting ready. “I’ll meet you downstairs Mr Presley”. With a very soft push of your hips back against his, he let go. “Yes ma’am”. With a playful smack of your ass, he rushed to exit the room with you chasing him to the door, both laughing like children. You loved that no matter what, Elvis and you always had fun. That’s all you could ask for, with your past being the way it was. Elvis lifted your spirits and brought joy to your life again. You’ll always thank him for that.

After a few touch ups, you headed downstairs just as everyone started arriving. You walked through to the kitchen as Elvis did the usual sweep of hugs and handshakes, laughing and joking with his friends that were like brothers to him. You smiled and greeted everyone and you all migrated to the garden as one of Elvis’s staff brought out the lemonade and meats to be cooked. You helped them set up as all the wives grabbed their drinks and sat beside the pool, leaving the men to do their thing for a while (which involved play fighting and playing War.) You had become close with Jennifer, Charlie’s wife. It was a good, welcoming feeling to be friends with Elvis’s friends. She handed you your drink and you sat down with her with everyone else. “So Y/N, how’s things? Has he popped the question yet?” She winked at you and smiled. You chuckled heartily and replied “Not yet. I think E and I aren’t there yet, but if he were to ask I definitely wouldn’t say no.” “Well he better not wait too long sweetie, can’t let someone as good as you slip away!” She grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly. You hadn’t given much thought to the idea of married life with Elvis, you were content with how things were now. Jenny did make a good point however, you’d been with Elvis for almost two years. You started to overthink why he hadn’t asked yet, questioning his intentions. You brushed it off and tried not to think about it. You knew he loved you so much, was there something in the way? His busy schedule? The Colonel? Another woman? Other women?

You sipped your lemonade and pushed those thoughts out of your mind. Dwelling on it will spoil things between you, you wanted to be happy with Elvis and live in the moment.

A few hours had passed, everyone either being in the pool or lounging next to it. You happily listened to the neighbouring conversations, eventually getting up to grab a burger. As you put the food on your plate, you realised you had accidentally spilt some sauce on the front of your dress. “a-h fuck” you murmured to yourself as you used your napkin to wipe it off. You turned back to walk towards the group of women and saw some of them looking at you and snickering. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered you, in your mind being a curvier girl always meant being the butt of some others joke, you had ignored it in the past and even embraced it. Unfortunately today, it struck a nerve. You walked up to Jenny and whispered “I’m just going to change my dress, I’ll be down soon okay?” “alright hun” she replied and you set down your plate and glass, walking back into the house and going up the stairs. Elvis’s attention had been caught by you walking back inside, he was no longer listening to whatever Joe was saying to him.

You walked into the bedroom and stripped off, throwing the dress on the floor and slumping down onto the bed with your head in your hands. You had already felt emotional all day, this did not help. You sighed and led back, letting your head hit the mattress and looked up at the mirror on the ceiling. Being in just your bra and panties, you stared at yourself. You had built up so much self-love and confidence over the years, why did today feel like a step backwards?

“Honey?” Elvis. You looked forwards and saw him leaning against the door frame with a towel around his neck, in just his shorts. He looked divine, glowing with purely authentic masculinity.  “whatcha doin’ up here?” He walked towards you and knelt down, putting his forearms on your thighs and leaning his head up at you. It baffled you how a man could exude such boyish charm and sexual energy all at the same time. You sat up and ran your fingers through his hair. “I came up to change my outfit, I got something on it..” You paused before you spoke again. “ I just needed to clear my head.. that’s all.” You led back down and closed your eyes. You wanted to just stay in this bed and sleep away your feelings. Elvis began stroking your thigh carefully, giving you all the comfort you needed. “That’s okay Y/N, take as long as you need. It’s just you n’ me.” The pent up tension you carried began to slip away the further up your thigh he smoothed. You started to wriggle your hips slightly at that oh so good feeling of Elvis touching you, you wanted more, so much more.

“Mmm E… you feel good..” you moaned quietly, barely a whisper. You spread your legs ever so slightly, almost attuned to his touch. This was music to Elvis’s ears and he loved to please you, god how he loved to please you. “ahh is this what you needed honey? For daddy to love on you like this?” His breath against your inner thigh and his words made you vibrate with pleasure and you felt yourself becoming wetter by the second. “I- oh.. Yes Elvis..” His touch travelled even further up your leg until he ran his fingers ever so slightly across your clothed pussy, making you whimper. You had given in to the feeling and wanted, needed Elvis to fuck you. “Ya been such a needy girl today, let daddy take care of you.” That word. He knew this was driving you crazy and the teasing was getting to you. He moved your panties to the side and revealed your slick, throbbing opening, making his mouth water and cock twitch in his shorts. You glanced down and saw him reach into his shorts and begin tugging at his cock slowly, loving the way you were nice and wet for him, plump and aching to be fucked. He used his index and middle fingers to spread your lips and rub your swollen clit gently. “Elvis pleaseee..” “please what honey? You’ll hafta use your words..” This incredible man… the teasing… it was all too much now. You sat upright abruptly and grabbed his hand in a huff. You looked into his blue crystal eyes shining up at you and you saw his lips twitch up into that smug smile again. You had had enough. “Elvis Aaron Presley, I want you to fuck me. Hard.” And with that, he grabbed your panties and ripped them down your legs, discarding them onto the bedroom floor somewhere. He pushed you down onto your back and rolled you over onto your front, undoing your bra and throwing it across the room and bringing your knees up onto the bed spreading your legs in the process. Your ass was flush against his crotch and you felt him grind against you, causing a guttural moan to escape his beautiful lips.. The noise escaping you was a high pitched squeal, utter surprise. You had obviously had sex with Elvis before, multiple times. This was the first time he showed his more dominant side compared to the tenderness he’d normally give you. This is what you needed, you knew you were in for a ride tonight.

You were completely exposed to him, at his mercy. He pulled his shorts down and stepped out of them, chucking them with your panties somewhere. You felt him bend over you and take your earlobe in his lips, sucking lightly and running his tongue just below your ear and down your neck, breathing heavily and letting light moans escape him. “Ya want me to fuck you hard huh- mm-? Use you like the bad lil girl you are?” He accentuated his words with a snap of his hips against yours, so rough and so right. You began to feel so desperate that you rubbed your ass against his cock, up and down, feeling your wetness slide onto the inside of his thigh. “Please daddy. God- fuckk- please.. I need you Elvis..” He straightened up and run his hand along your ass, giving you a hard smack and rubbing the soft skin afterwards. The pain mixed with the pleasure was enough to make you cum already, he hadn’t even fully started yet. After a couple more smacks, he aligned his cock to your hole, not before teasing you just that extra bit. He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your slick, from your clit all the way up to your other sensitive hole. The sensation felt so fucking good, you moaned loud and long. “That’s it baby, moan louder f’ me. Let everyone downstairs know how good daddy fucks ya’”. God this was too good and too much, your whining and moaning sounding throaty and eager, you needed some sort of tension release. You reached down and rubbed your clit slightly, making the ache in your pussy bearable. You knew Elvis would love to watch you do this, giving him a show and rolling your hips, enticing him further. “o-oh god Y/N.. daddys gonna fuck ya’ nice and good now honey..” As he spoke those words, he thrust his cock so deep inside you and grabbed your hips flush to his, both crying out in pleasure in unison. He stilled for a moment for you to adjust to his size, the thickness of his cock stretching out just how you liked. You continued to rub your clit slowly, moaning Elvis’s name like a prayer.

After what felt like forever, Elvis pulled back and out and slammed his cock back in, so hard and desperate for you. You could feel the intenseness of his thrusts through your whole body, making your breasts bounce. He kept his grip on your hips as began to plough into you from behind, the obscene clapping sound mixed with yours and Elvis’s moans and whimpers filling the air. You felt his heavy balls slap against your thigh and you just about lost it. You rubbed your clit so quickly that the room started to spin and fill with the scent of sex. “E-E-Elvis.. Daddyyy.. Oh fuckkk..” You were so close, Elvis felt you throb and tighten around him. “Come on baby, cum f’ me. Cum all over this cock.. uh-h mm..” You reached your peak and came for him, your moans so loud it was guaranteed the guests would have heard you. His pace did not stop, he continued to fuck you hard. The squelching sound of his cock going in and out of you made you smile, you were made just for him. “Y/N.. I need t’ see that pretty face..” he pulled out and flipped you onto your back, pulling your calves onto his shoulders and entering you again. His face was so angelic in this moment, his skin glowy and hot with sweat, his brows furrowed and lips open. You pulled him down to you and kissed him needily, all tongue and lips mushing together. He pulled back and looked down into your eyes moaning “yeah baby, that’s it.. mm-hm look at daddy as he puts in inside ya..”. You began to rub and flick your clit again, needing to cum for Elvis once more. This drove him wild, he entered you again and the volume of his moans got louder and louder. A continuous string of “uh uh u-h” sounds fell from his talented lips, the sound was enough to make you cum again. He pounded your pussy even harder now, letting go of whatever tension he was carrying, giving you every part of him entirely. You were almost at your peak again and Elvis knew, so he reached down and started to play with your nipples, rolling them in his slender fingers and tugging gently. “o-hh Elvis ahh FUCKKK!” You grounding your hips down onto his cock, matching his thrusts. The way you were fucking each other was almost primal, animalistic. You both had discovered a new side of each other, revealing more to love of one another. Elvis couldn’t take it anymore and needed his tongue on something. He leaned down and put your right nipple in his mouth and suckled, flicking his tongue against you and nibbling softly. With Elvis hitting your g spot over and over again, this pushed you over the edge. You let it all go and came harder than you had ever came in your life, squirting juices all over Elvis’s cock and his thighs and all on the bedsheets.

Elvis’s rhythm started to become uneven and you knew he was getting close. You started to throb around him and milked his cock for all he had, looking up into the ceiling mirror and being in awe of the view above you. “Cum inside m-e Elvis, mm-mmhm-uh pleaseee!” As he heard you say this, he moaned against your nipple sending a shockwave of pleasure through your chest. He released your nipple from his lips and moved upwards to kiss you, running his hands through your hair and grabbing hold softly, mixing the dominance and tenderness perfectly like only he knew how. He pulled away and moaned “Wan’ me t’ fill you up huh baby? Make you a mama? Oh-h Lord have mercy.. I love you Y/N, oooh God I love ya so much honey, gonna cum in this lil’ pussy now, make you all mine.. oh uh o-h FUCK Y/N!” you felt him splutter and cum inside you, coating your walls with his thick hot cum. He collapsed on top of you and you both led there for a little while, heavy breathing and coming down from the highs you gave each other. “that was.. wow Y/N..”. He chuckled and you felt him go soft inside you, pulling out slowly. You both gasped as he fully disconnected from you, now feeling less full up. His cum began to spill out of your hole and in true Elvis fashion, his smile lit up and he reached down teasing your hole with his fingers. “awh now we cant have that now can we honey? I said I’d make you a mama…” so he pushed his fingers inside of you, keeping his load from spilling any further out. This made you moan loudly again, God this man. “Elvis… I love you.” “I love you too Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.” He pulled his fingers out after a minute or two and you both relaxed in the comfortable silence, cuddling into each other. Eventually Elvis got up and went to the bathroom, coming back with a wet cloth and a glass of water. He handed the water to you and you thanked him as he wiped your stomach and thighs of your juices. “my messy girl” a small blush creeped over his cheeks as he cleaned his front as well. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up gently, leading you to the bed and pulling the covers back. You both led down against the pillows and Elvis wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead and enveloping you in his embrace. “should we go back down?” “nah, they can leave if they want. I need my baby next to me.”

Elvis hummed a song to you quietly, almost like a lullaby. You closed your eyes and listened to your boyfriend and wondered how you could ever love someone so much, more than life itself. “Elvis?” “Yes honey?” You wanted to word this a certain way, not to confuse or frighten him. What Jenny said was still on your mind and you needed to talk to Elvis about it, despite it scaring you to your core. “W-where do you see us going?” You felt Elvis shift position to look at you. “whatchu mean Y/N like.. with us?” thank the heavens you didn’t have to explain. “Yeah exactly..” “well…” he began; “you know I love you an’ I know you love me. You make every day brighter, I go crazy when I’m not with ya’. We’ve lived together here for 4 months 2 months and 1 day exactly.. hmm..” He paused to scratch his very slight stubble on his chin. “… The next step is marriage. Is that something you would want honey? to be my wife?” Was he asking for your hand in marriage now? You sat up and stared at him. You needed to check if this was really what he was saying. “Definitely E, I want to marry you and be your wife but… maybe we should wait a lil longer. When your filming is done, when The Colonel lets you have some time off..” You scolded that man in your head, he made you feel physically ill. The way he treated Elvis made you angry and you didn’t like to dwell on it too much. “When the timing is right, i want you to be my husband. My Elvis.” You led down on his chest and placed your hand above his heart, feeling the soft thump of his steady beat. “I agree baby, I really do.. youll make the perfect lil wife someday. Pretty sure you’ll be carryin’ my baby soon enough too..” You felt his hand slide down to your side and begin to tickle you. You tried to pull away but his grip on your side prevented you from moving, so you laughed and squealed as tears formed in your eyes. You tickled him back along his side, giving him no choice but to release you. You quickly straddled his lap and pinned his arms above his head, catching your breathe. He stared up at you like you were the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever seen, the most musically sound song he’d ever heard, the epitome of perfection on top of him. He was yours, every part of him. “I really do love you Y/N, I wanna spend the rest of my life being yours, an’ you mine”. You kissed him gently, replying with your lips on his. No matter who or what affected your mind, you knew Elvis was yours and would be there for you till you both moved onto the next life together. There was truly nowhere you’d rather be in this moment. By your lover, best friend, future husband.

[ladelinee]

Big daddy, you stole my heart!

[elvisgasm]

Thoroughfare

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, smut, fluff, angst, daddy kink

"I'll find you."

Those were the last words Elvis had spoken to you as you made your way down the Santa Monica courthouse steps.

With cameras flashing and the fluttering of people weaving their way into a heavy crowd that rumbled in the base of your ear.

Life had never felt so deafening before. You can only hear the clicks of your heels against the cement. Eyes wide as you search for your car and struggle to meander your way through the crowd of paps.

Elvis, noticing your perturbed demeanor, immediately weaves a thick hand with your smaller one. The rough pad of his thumb, worn by years of guitar use among other things, circles itself against your knuckles.

The world settles into calmness once more when he squeezes your hand and says so softly only you can catch it, "I love you, sweetheart."

To see Elvis, to really, truly see him, was to hear the world sing around you.

────────

The next time you saw him was in Calabasas around midnight in the winter.

The buzz of LA traffic had settled some, and throughout your house, there was a warm quiet.

You were in your living room reading, embers from your fireplace dancing in your peripheral when a knock pulled you from your book.

Making your way over towards the entryway, you placed your book atop the shelf of your fireplace and slid the cover of peephole over.

It was Elvis.

You opened the door hesitantly, your eyes instantly meeting his heavy ones.

"Elvis?" You stepped back, opening the door wider. "What're you doing here?"

He was dressed in a white floor-length coat, baby blue dress shirt, black pants, and leather boots.

Elvis looked back at his car on the street before taking a step towards you.

"Can I come in?"

────────

It begins with gentle touches and tickled strokes to your skin or across your knuckles as you sit beside him at your couch.

His thighs are spread, and both hands rest on the tops of his dark pants.

There's a mark of his being that you suddenly remember. One that'd dwindled away with the years you hadn't seen him and one that seemed to settle into fabrics and textures of the room.

It was heavy and fortuitously reminded you of that great and suffocating presence he'd carried in the prime of this career.

There was an older feeling to it now. Resembling that of a paternal figure demanding respect of age.

He's been worn by it.

It reminds you of the way he'd basically raised you. Fathered you into existence.

And he meets your soft eyes so contritely.

He, your divorced husband, father, and penitent God all in one.

The image of him tainted with age and hurt.

Dark bags weigh under his sleepy eyes, white and grey specks trickle throughout his black hair and down into his sideburns, his hands are still rough – not at all softened by the earned cushioning of his life, and he's much larger now, much heavier around his middle.

"Elvis..." You start, tracing the skin of your thumb with the tip of your French tipped nail.

The words won't come out no matter how hard you try. His name brings a quiet and choked sob to your throat.

The fireplace crackles behind you, and your silk pyjamas suddenly feel as though they've begun to mesh with your skin.

"Why'd you come here, Elvis?" You finally manage through a quiet and shaky voice.

He doesn't respond for a moment, still running the pad of his thumb up and down the fabric of the arm of the couch.

You pray that he heard you. That you don't have to swallow the part of yourself grasping and sobbing for him to hold you and make it all go away back down.

"Wanted to see you." He breaks the heavy silence.

Your heart clenches in your chest, and a memory of him plays in your mind.

'Don't do that.'

You want to say. You want to tell him to get out. To leave your home and never come back. To pretend he never knew you.

You can't escape him. You try to reach into your memory to settle in nostalgia of your past, and it's surrounded by him.

Winters and autumn spent in Aspen and Colorado and Summers and springs spent in Memphis and California.

It hurts you so horribly that you don't think you can survive it. The heavy pain of everything you'd gone through with him.

Your naivety is long gone.

But you can't bear the words.

Tears well in your eyes.

The silence serves as enough for both of you.

Elvis gingerly moves his hand from the arm of the couch to hesitantly rest atop your thigh.

He moves carefully and skillfully, as if calming a wounded animal – somewhere beneath it all, thats what this is.

Gently, he circles his thumb over the soft skin of your thigh.

Your eyes are glued to his hand and how it dwarfs your leg – forgetting how much larger he's always been.

His rings glimmer under the lamp light when he squeezes your thigh comfortingly.

You can't bring yourself to look away as your knees slowly part, and you settle deeper into the couch.

Elvis brings his other hand up to cup your jaw, leading you towards him as he presses a line of kisses from the back of your ear, down to your jaw, and to the skin of your neck.

There's nothing you can focus on between the heat of him and the blood rushing in your ears.

"E-Elvis–" you try, shivering under his touch.

"Mhm," he hums against your skin, "M'here," he soothes, pulling a moan from your lips.

His sideburns tickle your skin.

You try to steady yourself by holding the wrist of his hand atop your thigh, but you only tremble in wake of it all.

"Why're you shakin'?" Elvis whispers softly, pressing another kiss to back of your ear, "S'just me," his hand slips from your thigh to rest between your legs, cupping your cunt through your pj shorts in his hand, "S'just Elvis, baby."

You whimper through a choked swallow, letting your chin rest in his hand as your eyes focus on his wrist between the soft insides of your thighs.

The bridge of his nose grazes the line of your jaw, and almost immediately, you're turning your head in his hand to meet him in a messy and sloppy kiss.

Elvis runs his tongue along the roof of your mouth with a shameless moan, and you shiver.

He pulls back from the kiss, pressing a peck to your wet lips before sitting back in his seat on the couch.

Propping his elbow up on the arm rest of the couch, he rests his temple against his hand.

You stare at one another for a moment, and you bashfully bask in the attention.

You jump when Elvis' thumb circles your clit through your panties and he offers a lax chuckle in response.

────────

You don't remember exactly how the two of you end up on the carpeted floor of your bedroom – between large hands grasping, squeezing, biting, and tickling at your skin and clashing teeth, it remains a sensual blur.

Elvis is knelt behind you on the floor, the both of you still dressed save for his cock pulled out of the top of his pants and your pj shorts pulled down to your knees and panties held to the side by one of his large hands.

"Daddy missed you." He says softly as he sinks into you – and the weight of him against you makes you sob.

"Cant," a cry rolls up your throat, and Elvis is quick to soothe the watery tone of your voice.

"M'here," he sinks deeper into you in the same breath, and you drop your head between your shoulder blades at the deepness of it.

A large ringed hand wraps around your jaw, keeping your head upright.

The heat of his thrusts paired with the weight of him, stomach to your back, makes your knees weak.

His arm wrapped around your middle lifts you some, keeping you upright.

"Daddy," you pout tearfully, voice breaking into a whine when he circles his hips, stretching the walls of your cunt.

Elvis shushes you again, kissing at the plush of your hot cheek. "He's gotcha." he coos.

You're so tired. So exhausted and worn on the seemingly endless worry of him.

How could he not see how tired you are. How mentally exhausted your mind is through the weight of the divorce and the constant hospital scares and calls from Lisa in the middle of the night.

He doesn't know how fragile he is.

Your husband, father, and God. Once thought to be invincible, swayed by the heavy weight of the world.

It terrifies you.

Sometimes, you wish he'd just come in the middle of the night and take you back to his bedroom in Graceland. Back where time stops and everything seems perfect.

He'd take care of you.

"Where'd you go, honey?" Elvis turns your head to the side and meets your tired eyes.

His thick brows furrow as he runs the pad of his thumb over your jaw gently.

"Elvis," You try, readjusting yourself on your knees, "M'really tired." The end of your voice tapers off into a choked wobble and Elvis coos along with your soft cry.

He doesn’t say anything as he drops his forehead to yours before pulling back to place a kiss at your hairline, "Need someone to take care of you?" He asks softly, stroking your cheek gently.

You nod, closing your eyes as you break into choked sobs, dropping your head between your shoulders and staring into the carpet, blurred by your hot tears.

Elvis runs his hand over the top of your head, gently massaging the skin of your scalp.

He covers you with his body, pulling his hand from your hair to weave with your own, the other balled into a fist, knuckles pressed into the carpet.

The girth of his cock stretches you so deliciously that it sends tingles throughout your thighs and to the tips of your toes.

Elvis uncurls his fist to hold the base of your neck, the cool metal of his rings, sending a chill down your arms, keeping you steady as he pumps into you.

His groans spur you on, making you go lightheaded. You mentally thank him for holding you up, your arms almost weak under him.

He's gotten heavier in the last few years, and it urges a submissive calmness in you, one that reminds you of the protective nature he holds you to.

"Y'okay?" He whispers softly through a kiss to your cheek.

You turn your head to meet his gaze through lidded eyes.

Raven bangs are slicked to his forehead with sweat, brows furrowed, and plush lips swollen.

Instead of answering, you bring a hand up to rest on his cheek, stroking the soft of his flushed skin and tip of his sideburn.

They've gotten longer since you'd seen him.

You meet his lips in a soft kiss, one that reserves decorum for the intimacy of the two of you woven with one another.

You don't know where you end and he begins.

"Are you okay?" You whisper against his lips, pulling away to press your forehead to his.

He nods, giving you a gentle thrust that has you gasping softly.

There's a moment that follows where you feel as though you're one in the same. As though he's in your thoughts as you take the weight of him and the stretch of his cock against your walls.

As you rock back into him, the two of you pant at one another, swallowing eachothers moans and whines through the space between you.

Elvis thrusts into you once and then twice before slipping out of you and rutting the veiny length of his cock up and down the soaked folds of your cunt.

It's a new feeling and something he hasn't done before, so vulgar in nature that you're half tempted to pry and tease him about who taught him that at his ripe age of forty but before you're able to, he's pulling the weight of himself off of you and falling back to rest on his haunches behind you.

It's quiet for a moment that strays too long that you begin to grow shy under his gaze. You lift both of your legs up in an attempt to cover yourself with your socked feet only for him to catch both your ankles in one large hand and press them down to the carpet again.

The action makes you whine, shaking your hips some.

Elvis takes mercy on you as he holds your panties back to the side and licks a long stripe up the folds of your pussy.

"Oh fuck," you gasp, reaching a hand back in search for his hair but you unexpectedly meet his hand as he weaves your fingers together with his.

His nose bumps and pushes against the lip of your cunt so well you almost sob, dropping your head down to the carpet as you rest on your forearm.

The new position allows him better access, and he moans into your heat as his tongue sinks into you deeper.

Pulling back from your cunt, a string of drool attached to his lips, he coos "Good girl."

He squeezes your hand softly as he nods his head back into you, tracing and circling his tongue past the swollen lips of your pussy.

Elvis pulls back again, and using his free hand, spreads the lips of your cunt.

You're vulnerable under the exposure, keeping your eyes closed.

He moves behind you, dropping his hand from your cunt and untangling your hand from his own before spreading the cheeks of your ass and pressing a soft kiss to your puckered hole.

You breathe shakily against the skin of your forearm, shivering when he sinks his cock back into you with a hearty groan.

"Elvis, haaa" your nails dig into the tufts of carpet.

He hums behind you, pulling the globes of your ass cheeks apart to watch as the veiny girth of his cock stretches your tight hole.

You coo for him again, reaching for him and failing to grasp ahold of any part of him.

Elvis notices your struggle – always so attentive to you – and pulls out of you before gently leading you to lay down on your back.

Gathering your ankles in one hand, he pushes your thighs up to your chest.

"There we go," he hums, sinking into you again while letting your legs fall to either of his shoulders.

The pressure meshed with the intimacy of it all brings tears pooling to your eyes. You choke back a watery moan as you call for him in the hot air of your bedroom.

"M'right here, sweetheart," he says softly, resorting to slow and gentle thrusts into your heat as he brings you into a kiss.

The veins of his cock run along your gummy walls and has you digging your nails into his wrists that lead to balled fists pressed into your carpeted floor.

"Daddy," you try, sobbing against his plush lips.

You meet his lidded blue eyes, heavy lashes stroking his soft cheeks.

He's battling something in his mind.

"Come home to me, baby." He gives you another thrust that has your back arching, your breasts pressing flush to his chest. His cool necklace sends a chill down your spine.

"I can't." You pant, trying to advert your eyes as you look between the two of your bodies where you meet, watching the slow stroke of his heavy cock.

Elvis guides his hand to your chin, holding your gaze, "Yes, you can. I'll take care of you."

You lean into his hand.

And for a soft and quick moment, you imagine you're back at Graceland, on the mistletoe red carpet.

"C'mon, sweetheart." Elvis' voice drops so quietly you almost miss it, the weight of a tearful sob heavy on his tongue.

Instead, you bring him into another kiss, weaving your fingers through his thick hair.

"Take care of me, please," you sob woefully.

Elvis nods, dropping his head to watch his cock pump into you.

"Harder," you whine, circling your thumb over the pulse point of his wrist. His bracelets rock and jangle with his movements.

"Daddy's givin' you all he has."

His cock pulses against your walls and you tighten against him.

"M'gonna cum," you cry, letting out a choked whimper.

Elvis hums above you, "Yeah, m'gettin' there, honey."

When you cum, you pull at him and he lets you. His stomach rests against you and he maneuvers to push one of your legs outward as he thrusts a couple more times into your cunt.

When he cums, it's far more primal – more filled with teeth and groans and hair in your face.

He presses his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss, and it's filled with sorrow and quietude.

Elvis had always told you the two of you would go out that way. With teeth clashing and bites and moans. With a quiet understanding that neither of you wanted it to end.

────────

Elvis spends the next few hours tending to you.

Poor wounded animal, comforted by its devourer.

Washing your hair in your shower and cupping your jaw to bring you into a gentle kiss ever so often.

You realize somewhere when your head's under the water and Elvis' hands are over your body, that he doesn't know how to say goodbye. He never has, having grown up with getting his every way since he'd turned nineteen.

He's leaving you with lasting parts and memories. The only way he knows how.

Later that night, the two of you lay in your bed with Elvis behind you and his arm under your head.

He strokes the tips of his fingers over your scalp in the quiet of the room.

The clock on your wall reads 2:15am.

The silence is comforting.

You turn over to tuck yourself against him, and he welcomes you, pulling you closer to him.

The fan hums, and Elvis presses a kiss to the top of your head ever so often, stroking a hand up and down the length of your arm.

"Don't leave," you say.

"M'not goin' anywhere," He says back softly.

The warm hum of his breathing and gentle clink of his jewelry lulls you to sleep.

────────

When you get the call on August 16th at 5 p.m., you hear the world pause, and time seems endless and all in the same, inescapable.

Everything's so quiet. You can't hear anything. The silence is defeaning.

You're lying on the carpeted floor of your bedroom.

When you close your eyes, he's there with you.

"I'll find you." You whisper.

[lilmisspeaches]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ red !!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ i wanna play house with you !! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

[atleastpleasetelephone]

I know you’re in the middle of Kinktober (and crushing it btw!!!) so I’m sure you won’t be taking requests for a while, but leaving this in your inbox because I cant stop thinking about it. Humbly requesting wholesome cockwarming with BDE 🙏🏼

A/N: Thank you very much! I decided to make this a sequel to Bunny.

Not that innocent

Pairing: BDE x reader

Word count: 2.3K

TWs: Erectile dysfunction, cockwarming, p in v sex, a lot of cum, a short appearance from angry!Elvis, reader cries (not sex-related).

Elvis likes you, so he wants to keep you around. He was a little anxious that maybe you didn’t like him back when you said no to his invitation to spend the night. But then you turn up to his show the next night wearing the dress he’d had sent to you, so some of the anxiety dissipates. He feels like he does the entire show for you, the moves, the songs, even when he’s kissing all those other women he still has you in mind. You intrigue him - he thought you were shy, and then you asked him all those questions. All those oddly pertinent questions. As though you could see inside his mind and knew that he was sad and lonely a lot of the time. He wants you by his side again so he can talk to you some more. And of course it wouldn’t hurt to teach you a few more things in the bedroom. 

This time you decide to go to Elvis’ suite alone. Your friends aren’t that interested in going again anyway - they’re only in Tahoe for one more night and then they’re going back home. You’re supposed to go with them, only you’re not sure if you will. There’s not a lot pulling you back to Virginia. Your job, of course, but no significant other or pets or anything like that. And you could get another job. It might not be that professional to just stay in Tahoe until the end of Elvis’ residency, but part of you is wondering if you should try living a little. 

As soon as he sees you Elvis’ hands are on you, guiding you around the room as he murmurs questions in your ear about the show and what you’re drinking tonight. You answer him brightly, because you loved the show and you’re dying for another margherita. He settles you down next to him on the sofa and immediately starts talking to the rest of the people around him in an extremely animated fashion. You sip quietly on your drink and watch him. He really is very handsome, and you love the way he talks. Not just his accent, but the way he says things, something about it really appeals to you. 

After an hour or so, you start to get antsy. You’ve been sitting in the same position, with Elvis’s arm around your shoulders, being jostled by him as he moves back and forth. And you’re uncomfortable. And if you’re really, truly, being honest, a little bored. You tap his leg cautiously and look up into his face. He’s still talking though, barely registering anything else in the room other than the conversation that he’s so completely immersed in. You tap again, but there’s still no response. Then you think of something that will get his attention, your little hand wandering over to his groin and squeezing his balls. 

“Bunny!” Elvis’ face is red and his eyes are wide. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, your eyes meeting his a little reluctantly. “I tried to nudge you but you weren’t paying attention.”

Elvis is briefly furious at the fact that you’ve touched him, there, in public, and part of him wants to throw you out of the suite and never see you again. There’s a weird stillness in the room as everyone around him waits to see how he’s going to react. It’s not as if any of them actually saw what happened, but they all know that tone, and that there’s a high likelihood of the entire suite being cleared out in the next couple of minutes. 

“You can’t do that!” He rages, far too loud and too close to your face. 

You’d heard that he has mood swings nowadays, you’d read about them in the newspapers. He’d been nothing but sweet to you last night, though, so you hadn’t really believed it. But here you were now, right in the middle of one. You burst into tears. 

“I d-didn’t mean to… I… I… it’s uncomfortable and loud and I don’t know anyone but you and I don’t even know you…” the words are rushing out of you at a rate of knots and you struggle to make them stop. “I just wanted y-your attention, it’s too much b-being here on my o-own…” you sniff loudly and then succumb to sobbing again. 

“Oh, bunny…” Elvis softens immediately, seeing how upset you are and knowing he’s the cause of it. 

“Right, Charlie, everyone out!” He shouts into the room, and then without warning scoops you up and carries you into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

“Bunny I’m so sorry,” he coos, placing you down on the bed and sitting himself next to you. 

You sniff and try to get your breathing under control as he passes you a box of tissues. “It’s… it’s okay.”

He watches as you wipe your face and take a few more gulping breaths of air, gradually calming down again. 

“Ya don’t like all those other people?” He asks, gently. 

You shake your head. “N-no. It’s just a bit much.”

“Sorry, honey. C’mere.” He pulls you into his arms, your head on his chest as he strokes your hair lovingly. You both stay like that for a while, and then he wonders what you were trying to get his attention about in the first place. Now he’s had some time to think about it, it’s kind of a funny way to get his attention, and if nudging didn’t work he can’t really blame you for doing it. 

“What did ya want anyway, Bunny?”

You move your head to look at him. “Jus’ your attention. Wanted to move off that sofa and do something else.”

He grins. “Well ya got what ya wanted.”

You wriggle up his body, your hand burrowing into his hair. “I kinda wanted something else, too.” You press your lips against his and he responds eagerly, kissing you gently at first and then with increasing passion. 

You start to pull at his clothes and it’s not long before he finds himself naked with you, a position he doesn’t usually like to be in with the lights on, but somehow your little body is making him care less about it than usual. He caresses you with his big, guitar-roughened  hands and you moan, kissing him and rubbing your body against his. He’s shocked when you pull away from his embrace and straddle his thighs, your hand tugging on him just like he taught you yesterday. He’s even more shocked when he feels you rub the head on your pussy, your arousal covering him as you sink down onto his length. 

“Fuck,” he groans, looking down at you through hooded eyes. “Thought ya were an innocent lil bunny.”

You giggle, settling yourself down, his dick completely inside you. “I’ve had sex before, Elvis.”

He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “‘parently so. Ya not gonna move then, bunny?”

You giggle again, shaking your head and running your hands over your breasts, arching your back as you do it. He groans. “Thought I might tease you a little?”

“T-tease me?” He stumbles over the word a little. He really read you wrong when he met you, you might’ve been terrible at handjobs but you definitely know what you’re doing with your body right now. 

“Mmm. Jus’ sit on it.” You bite your lip and tip your head to one side. One of your girlfriends had told you about teasing and you thought it seemed fun, but you hadn’t really had much of an opportunity to try. The couple of guys you’d been with were so demanding about their own pleasure you’d been more of a fun plaything than a woman with agency. 

“S-sit on it?” Elvis feels like he has to stop repeating everything you say back to you as a question, but it’s like his brain has gone completely blank. Apart from the part that reminds him that he’s 40 and he takes too many meds for his dick to co-operate like this for too long. And he doesn’t want to say that out loud. 

You grin. It seems like it’s working. You rock your hips just a little and he moans in response. Biting your lip, you decide to try pushing it a little further. 

“Maybe you’ll think twice about being so mean to me, next time?”

Elvis’ expression changes a little, and you wonder if you’ve pushed it too far. His hand reaches to slap you on the side of the thigh. 

“C’mon. I apologised fer that. Ya need ta move.”

His tone is bordering on annoyed, and you consider it for a minute and then shake your head, going for your best attempt at a girlie cute little grin. 

“No! Not yet.”

Elvis groans, feeling himself starting to get soft. 

“Please!”

“No!” 

You think you’re still teasing, until you feel something change inside you and watch something changing on his face, too. 

“Ya may as well jus’ get off,” he huffs. 

You tilt your head to one side and look at him. “Don’t want to.”

Still huffing, he gets up onto his elbows and looks at you sternly. “There’s no point now.”

His tone is bitter but he keeps staring at you, waiting to see what you’re going to do. Expecting you to move. But you don’t want to. You don’t feel as full as you did earlier, but he’s still nestled inside you and you like that feeling. 

“I like it,” you tell him, then you hold out your arms. “Want you closer.”

He’s confused but the way you’re being with him softens his frustrations and he finds himself sitting up as you ask, with you adjusting to make sure he doesn’t fall out. After some wriggling he finally finds himself with his arms around you and his head on your shoulder, breathing in your scent. 

“Too old ta be teased,” he whispers. 

“Maybe I’m jus’ not good at teasing,” you suggest. 

“Hmmm.”

“Like the feeling of you inside like this.”

He grumbles into the crook of your neck, then sighs, relenting. “Like it too.”

You sit there for a while, in one another’s arms, enjoying the feeling of closeness. Then you wiggle your hips a little. 

“You think I can get it back?”

“Hmmm?”

“Your hard-on. Think I can get it back? I’m not that good at teasing but I am good at… other stuff.”

Elvis shakes his head a little to clear it of your dirty words. “I dunno, honey. Little Elvis isn’t that co-operative nowadays.”

You giggle, moving so you can look at him properly. “Little Elvis? You named it?”

He looks down, shyly. “Y-yeah. I named it.”

“Ohhh. Maybe I should talk to him.”

“What’re ya gonna say?”

You think for a while, tilting your head to the side and nibbling on your lower lip, going through several options. Then you decide you’ve come up with it, and smile brightly at him. 

“I think I’m gonna say, Little Elvis… you’re not actually that little, are you?”

Elvis bursts out laughing, his fingertips digging into your fleshy hips as he throws his head back. Your hands hold onto the back of his neck as you grin at his reaction. 

“I’m also gonna say, I like playing with you, and I’d really like it if you got all red and hard for me again. But if you’re too tired, I understand.”

Elvis is still laughing, all the tension from earlier has completely gone and he just loves how silly you’re being. It’s making him feel like the whole thing is less serious than he’d first imagined. Then he starts to feel something as you rock your hips back and forth on him, your ass firmly pressed against his thighs so he doesn’t slip out. A little hardening, a little rush of blood back down there again. Your lips find his ear and you murmur into it. 

“Want to show you how good I am at this. I know you’ve had a lot of girls and I’m sure I’m not the best, but I want to try.”

He groans at your words and your movements, and he starts to think that you’re right, you are good at this and you can bring his erection back. He’s never known a girl be able to do it before, he usually gets so psyched out and upset when it happens he doesn’t even let them try. 

“Bunny,” he breathes, feeling your pussy hugging him again as you start to roll your hips forwards, pushing your breasts against his chest. 

“Elvis,” you moan back, raising yourself up on your knees just a little before sitting back down. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hands on your ass as you start to make your movements bigger and bigger, until finally you’re bouncing on him like���well… a bunny rabbit. 

You move one of your hands to rub your clit as the familiar feeling inside you builds, his dick pleasuring you just the way you like. You’ve only been in this position once or twice, but those are the times you’ve been able to cum from sex and so you’re excited to do this with Elvis. You watch his face contort in pleasure and it brings you even closer, thinking that you’re the cause, you’re what’s making him feel so good. Your fingers rub faster and you keep bouncing, his hands helping you move now too, fucking you on his dick. 

Leaning back, you finally sigh out your orgasm, so quietly Elvis would’ve missed it if he was just relying on his ears. But he feels you, and then he knows he has to move you before he cums. His strong hands pull you off him completely and set you down somewhere around his knees, before he grabs his dick and quickly jerks himself, cumming in seconds, his release spurting all over your belly and tits. Lying down with a groan, he wraps his arm around you as you lie down next to him. 

“I need a shower,” you whisper in his ear. 

He’s still breathing hard, trying to recover from his orgasm, and he pries his eyes open to look at you. You’re literally covered in his cum. 

“Shit.”

You giggle. “Told you I was good at it.”

He shakes his head with a wry smile. “Knew Bunny was a good name fer ya. Jus’ didn’t realise how good. Until now…”

***

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley

[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]

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. 

[mirkasblog]

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 𝓗𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓵

[from-memphis-with-love]

I know you're a lonely woman, And I love you But someone else is waiting, And he owns you If he should ever wake up Be sure your story is straight, love If you talk in your sleep, Don't mention my name If you walk in your sleep, Forget where you came.

[rosepresley68]

We miss them ❤️❤️