#Elvis had a hard day

[kiankiwi]

cg!Aus little E: "You Need Tiny Time, Baby

***

Elvis came home from a clearly bad day so it was clear that he needed what him and Aus called "tiny time" or time down in headspace. Usually E was the caregiver in the relationship and Austin was the little. But occasionally, when Austin noticed El was exceptionally stressed, he offers to take care of him so he can relax too.

Today is one of those nights that Elvis needs "tiny time". Austin put his apron away and came up to Elvis who was grumbling angrily while tossing his shoes off and sitting at the kitchen table. "Hey baby, I made your favorite cookies..." Elvis just glared at him. Austin sighed and came over, putting his hands on his shoulders and leaned down to kiss his head. "Baby, if you need to go down, for tiny time, you can just ask. I don't mind taking care of you tonight if you need it."

"Don't need it!" Elvis grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. "Really baby? You said you had a hard day, I just think this would make you feel better?" Austin said, crouching down so he could get a little more on Elvis' level.

"Don't want to! Not a baby!" Elvis grumbled as he stamped his foot. Austin knew Evls was sometimes self conscious about his headspace. Sometimes he needed to push him into a little. Especially if being down would make him feel better.

"I know you're not a baby. But you don't need to be a baby just to relax. We can upstairs right now and get you in your favorite jammies, have a bottle with vanilla, a nice bath with your ducky... and watch a movie with daddy? Doesn't that sound nice?" A tear rolled down his face as Elvis rubbed his sleeve across his nose, a self explanatory sign he was already feeling a bit little. "Nilla baba and ducky...?" Elvis confirmed. Austin nodded. "And daddy has no problem taking care of you little one, I promise."

Hearing the confirmation that his partner would have no issue being the caregiver for the night, Elvis let out a relieved sob and fell into Austin's open arms for a cuddle.

"Oh lovie, I know. Some days are really hard, hm?" Elvis nodded against his shoulder as Austin rubbed his back. "It's completely alright to have a little cry okay? You're alright. Everything is fine." Elvis nodded and screamed a big sob into his caregivers shoulder, giving in to the smallness swirling around his brain. "Shhh, baby, I know... You're at home, you're safe with daddy and we don't have to do anything you don't want to okay?" Austin comforted. He felt Elvis cling onto him as Austin very expertly at this point picked him up and carried him on his hip to the master bathroom for his bath.

Elvis was settled and quiet only sniffling every few minutes now. Austin leaned down and started the faucet as Elvis clung to him and watched as his spa night was set up.

"You excited?" Austin asked. Elvis just yawned hugely and stuck his thumb in his mouth, exhausted from letting his feelings out. "Ah, you're just sleepy huh? Come on sweet boy." Austin took his boy into his hidden away nursery and into the closet. "Which jammies do want tonight baby?" "Ducky!" Austin chuckled. "You want to match with your rubber ducky? Good choice baby." "Now you gotta stay still okay?" Austin asked as he set Elvis on the changing table to change him out of his clothes he wore that day. Elvis nodded, he was too tired to wiggle and squirm anyway

Austin set the chosen pajamas in the crib and brought the baby into the bathroom and plopped him in the tub. He added a little bit of bubble bath and grabbed the fluffiest towel they had and set it aside while Elvis babbled to his rubber ducky about some sort of submarine adventure his boat toy was going on.

Austin smiled as he saw Elvis finally truly relax for the first time in days. Maybe weeks. Elvis visibly relaxed as his partner massaged the watermelon kids shampoo into his long hair. "There we go baby, does that feel better?" Elvis nodded sleepily, happy just to relax and spend time with his partner and caregiver.

Austin let the baby play for nearly an hour until he clearly felt cold in the bubbly water. Austin smiled as Elvis poked him and looked at him through his long lashes. "Ou' dada, ou', pease?" Austin nodded. "And straight to night night?" Austin joked. Elvis just pouted, completely serious. "Nooo, 'nilla baba and 'uddles first daddy!" Elvis locked his arms around his caregiver as Austin lifted him out of the tub and wrapped him in his duck towel with a hood. "Alright, alright, nilla and cuddles are coming but we gotta brush those teefies first and get in your jammies."

Elvis grumbled and made a face. "Hey, hey, no making faces, that won't get you out of it. Cmon bubby. It'll take two minutes." Elvis sighed but eventually nodded. Austin sat him on the bathroom counter and Austin poked his cheeks to get him to open his mouth so Austin could brush his teeth for him. "Go grrr, show me those teefies! Cmon!" Elvis made a silly face and bared his teeth. "There we go, good job!" Now all cozy in his duck jammies, Elvis sat on his butt and scooted down the steps, wanting to show daddy how he got down the stairs ''like a big boy".

"Alright, one vanilla and milk baba for one little Ellie." Austin said as he gave Elvis his sippy cup and sat next to him, putting a blanket over both of them. Austin opened his arms. "Cuddles lovie?" Elvis smiled around the spout of his sippy cup and settled his back against Austin's chest, pointing at the TV. "Movie, dada?" Austin nodded. "Sure which one?" Elvis smiled like his daddy was the silliest guy on the planet.

"KITTY MOVIE!" He screamed, raising both arms in the air. Austin knew the 'kitty movie' meant the Disney classic, Aristocats. His current favorite. Austin smiled. "Oh, of course, I should've known."

With his favorite movie on, some milk in his favorite cup and snuggles whit his favorite person, Elvis was finally relaxed and feeling good.

***

It might be plotless but I finally did another fic... I hope it was okay :)))

@mooodyblue @earthbaby-angelboy @elvispresleywife @sillybookmarks

[jewishdragon]

So i went to a drag show the other day and one of the Drag Kings was especially iconic

he introduced himself as "Oliver Garden, because when you're queer you're family"

His persona was a blond elvis impersonator/church preacher? (ironic because he's jewish). With the iconic line of "in this church LGBTQ stands for 'LET GOD BLESS THESE QUEERS'"

DID NOT LIP SYNC HIS SONG HE SANG AND ROCKED THAT ELVIS VIBE HARD

anyways i had a blast and fuck yeah Let God Bless These Queers

[allurilove]

Camp Counselor x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: yandere best friend x fem reader, you guys are both camp counselors, bimbo reader, protective and obsessed behavior, mentions of blowjobs, fingering, manipulation, sort of fwb, he's whipped for you.

*Finally a yandere with a name! He goes by "Pres" or "your best friend." I should be working on other stuff soon, but I can't focus for some reason. LOL! Maybe yandere husband part four next, or the superhero. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your best friend convinces you to go to this remote camp deep into the woods with him. He marketed it as a fun paid getaway, but he was ready to taint your innocence.

You’re the exact person he would go for, and the one he’s been wanting to fuck. He wouldn’t dare to toss you aside like all the other women he’s been with. No, he wants you forever. You're his.

Being a camp counselor with your friend was hard. He had the hots for you, and that was pretty clear. Your best friend was named after the late famous singer Elvis Presley. His parents went absolutely crazy for the rock and roll musician, so much so that they named their son “Presley.” But he went by “Pres,” wanting nothing to do with the man he doesn’t even like.

Pres was a hot-headed and flirtatious nineteen-year-old who was only nice to you. He was a bit troubled and rough around the edges, smoking pot and drinking beer whenever he could. He got into a lot of fights, and most of them were because of you.

You were sweet, bubbly, and innocent. You had a tight, round ass that drove him wild, your hair always blowing in the wind, and your mini clothes accentuated your body perfectly. He bought you anything you wanted and did whatever you asked. Despite his tough exterior, he was a mushy, gushy guy on the inside.

He was your closest childhood friend, always coming to your house for years without a single break. Pres told you about the job, shoving the flyer in your face, and he raved about the opportunity. Money, sleeping in cabins, and taking care of kids—it all seemed pretty easy. It also meant he could have you all to himself for three whole months!

The day before the kids arrived for the summer, the counselors had one last meeting. You were able to check out the cabins, rest up for the night, and be well-rested for the morning. That was until your friend snuck out of his cabin and came to yours.

He tiptoed quietly, clinging to the shadows as he looked around to see if his supervisors were nearby. Slowly, he inched closer to your window. Your friend had told you to keep it unlocked, so he hoped you had listened. He let out a small grunt as he used his biceps to lift the window, which slid up smoothly.

“Oh would you look at that?” He muses, pushing his body though. He eyed you up and down, noticing how you were already in your pink silk nightgown. “Now that’s the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.”

All of the boring and long hikes to see a couple of mountains meant nothing in comparison to this. Seeing you in your room with lit candles all around, your legs apart, and your supple breasts covered by thin fabric was captivating. His feet found footing on your carpet as he approached closer to your sleeping form. That night, he slept right by your side, not wanting to leave you for a single moment.

You both teetered on the line between just being friends and being lovers. He would try to convince you to make out with him. You were just his type: ditzy, pretty, and downright adorable. He could show you a good time if you let him. His hands would rest on your hips, lovingly rubbing your sides up and down, occasionally slipping lower to your ass.

Presley convinced the kids assigned to you to hang out with his group, all so he could pull you into the woods and put on a cute display. He showered you with little kisses on your neck, his deep, rumbling voice cooing swoon-worthy words, and his brown eyes held so much warmth and affection. It was enough to convince you to get down onto your knees, his cock already pulled out of his tan shorts.

You’re a hot babe. Even hotter with your lips around the head of his cock. It must've been your first time, or you were just struggling with his length. Pres guided your head up and down, and with a loud grunt he came inside your mouth. He would tell you that you did amazing, help you wipe your mouth clean, and he’ll return the favor.

He doesn't understand what personal space even means. Your bed was his, and his was always open for you and only you. Once he got his rowdy kids to settle down in their bunk beds, was the moment he had you trapped outside, his fingers soaking in your cunt. He had his hand around your mouth, his knee pushing your legs apart, and his fingers kept pressing against the spot that had your head spinning.

No matter what he does, you still think you guys are just friends. Even if that word does irk him, he'll use it to his advantage. Showering with him was something friends do, so you can’t really say no. Him helping you clean every crevice of your body was just him being nice. Him choosing specific outfits that he wants to see you in was only because he was a 'fashionista.' He barely gave you any time to argue back when he stuffed your body into the swimsuit in the dead of night.

Pres tried his hardest to woo you. On lake day, he would pull off his shirt, muscles on display, and jump into the water. When he came up to the surface, his hair glistening in the light and his body dripping wet, he would try to catch a fish—doing manly things to show off. If that didn’t work, he would walk inside with you to the grand hall, where he’d make friendship bracelets with you. You were happy to do simple things like that, and he’d even make flower crowns with you.

The yandere was a competitive and athletic man. He would win at all of the games—tug-of-war, rock climbing, and don’t even mention any sort of crossword puzzle near him. All of his winnings would go to you. The chocolate gold coins from See's Candies were yours, the tiny trophy he got for catching the most fish was in your hands before you could blink, and the whittled statue of a moose from capturing the prettiest pictures was promptly put into your bag.

He had his softer moments: carrying your suitcases for you and putting them into the shuttle when camp ended, wrapping his jacket around you when you shivered, and letting you have the window seat because you liked to sightsee. He would remember your favorite snacks (he forced himself to like the same things) and offer his arm to be used as your pillow during the drive.

Right when he thought the relationship had progressed into something more, with your head resting on his shoulder, you said the words he didn’t want to hear: "You're the greatest best friend I have ever had."

Ah, shit. Seriously?

“Mhm, yeah, yeah,” he said unenthusiastically with a slight eye roll, and he gently patted your head. “Just go to sleep.”

[hysteria-things]

VEGAS

based off of this

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: while on a trip with chris in vegas, you get a little too excited when you see his new instagram post. you just can’t help yourself.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, masturbation (female), spanking, p in v, slight choking, hair gripping, semi-public, making out

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,029

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: chat i have mixed feelings about this one😔

❝i’m losing my patience, this ain’t staying in vegas!❞

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

this kid. he has to be doing this shit on purpose now, and nothing pisses you off more. he thinks he’s so fucking clever.

for context, matt and chris came to vegas for justin’s big poker game. you decided to tag along, but currently, the three of them are downstairs in the hotel common area to hang out. wanting to give the boys their own time, you stayed in the suite.

you’re sitting on one of the chairs on the balcony enjoying the city sounds and the night sky until your boyfriend decides to do this.

ah, the rule. it’s simple, yet impossible at the same time. chris set it a while ago when you were acting like a brat, and it stuck from that day on. if you break it, you’ll get punished.

RULE ONE: never touch yourself when he’s not there.

let’s face it. you had your hand down your pants the moment you saw that photo.

not caring if people around can hear or see you, your fingers slide in and out of your dripping hole with ease. you make sure to capture it all, the squelching noise and your moans getting louder the faster your movements go. “chris.” you whine, wishing they were his hands instead of yours.

the shake in your legs gets tenser the closer your high gets. “going to cum for you.” you moan into the phone, biting your lip to silence the scream you want to set free. it doesn’t take long for you to make a mess of your digits, exhaling from relief. you don’t hesitate to send the video to him.

heart beating in anticipation, you hear the front door shut not even minutes after the last message. all you do is stare into space and patiently wait for the person you need most to come outside.

his footsteps get closer before the sliding door opens and closes, your innocent-looking eyes finally meeting his as he walks in front of you. he crosses his arms without saying a word, and you spread your legs to show what he does to you. he licks his teeth, admiring the mess sitting between your thighs.

a trail of cum connects from your pussy to a small puddle beneath you on the chair. from the slickness, it’s practically begging for chris’s cock to abuse your insides.

in the blink of an eye, he grabs your calves to pull you to him. you gasp, him cupping your ass to lift you over his shoulder. he gives you one… two spanks before setting you down against the railing.

pressing hard against your clit with his thumb, he moves it in fast circles. “no teasing, please.” you protest, lolling your head back with a moan.

“you’re the one to tell me to not tease?” he scoffs, now moving his thumb slower up and down. “you’re lucky i’m going easy on you tonight.”

looking down ashamed, his hand wraps around your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. your tongues intertwine, the noise wet. chris swallows your sounds of pleasure.

lips travel down to your neck, licking and biting at your skin. not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to drive you crazy. the erection in his pants nudges at your clit, not helping with the sensation you already have there. his breath is hot on your ear, teeth nibbling at the lobe. “turn around.”

when you do, he grips your hair to bend you over the cold steel, lifting his shirt that you’re wearing. you look down at the pedestrians below, who are completely oblivious to the actions happening above them. cars drive by, some horns honking in the distance.

chris’s pants bunch up on the floor when they meet it, aligning himself at where you are desperate. you gasp when you feel his dick stretch your walls, wrapping tightly around him.

before he’s about to thrust into you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. your hips move up and down, fucking yourself on his cock as you grip tightly on the surface in front of you.

groaning contently, he rests his free hand on the small of your back, giving you a spank here and there. licking his lips, he doesn’t take his eyes off the way you bounce back against his pelvis. the way your ass recoils is mesmerizing.

your moans are soft, lids fluttering closed when your legs start to tremble. because of that, you can barely move yourself anymore. then, you feel a hand wrap around the front of your throat once again, lifting your head to rest on a shoulder. “what were you thinking about, hm?” chris asks, thumb grazing your cheek. “what made you cum that hard?”

eyes opening, you shake your head. his hips thrust slowly, hitting that spot nice and deep. “you’re just so handsome.” you whisper, tears glazing your orbs.

his thrusts get more brutal when he kisses you, silent screams leaving your mouth. clicking his tongue, he leaves a smack on your ass. the stinging makes you accidentally cry out before stopping yourself.

he chuckles. “don’t be shy. let everybody know whose cock you’re screaming on.”

your moans get louder the more he hits your g-spot. you take a look down — where you could’ve sworn you made eye contact with a passerby.

the grip on your hair tightens, his dick throbbing against your clenching walls. you’re about to cum, and he’s not far behind you. the speed of his hips has you on your tippy toes, whimpering loud into the las vegas air. “i’m cumming. fuck, i’m cumming!” you squeal, making a mess down his base.

pulling out, your fluids drip down your legs, chris painting your back white. he lets go of your entire body, immediately almost falling to the ground if the railing wasn’t holding you up. you lean your head over it, trying to catch your breath. he smirks at the view.

after all, he’s been with you long enough to know what your cycle is like. perhaps he did make that instagram post on purpose; just for you. knowing that you’d cave. oh, well.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @sturnlcvr @tpvmz @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings

[guillotine-drop]

Ranking New Vegas companions by their alcohol tolerance

Arcade - 6/10: Hear me out, Arcade is a fairly big guy and between his genetics and the work he does, he’s bound to have some weight behind him. Do I think he’s going toe to toe with the average Wrangler patron? No, but I do think you could sit him down with a bottle of wine and by the end he’d be juuuuust tipsy enough to follow you into that Nightstalker cave with minimal complaints.

Boone - 4/10: Despite being a miserable boot boy with a dead wife, I think Boone is on the lower end of alcohol tolerance solely because he’s a sniper; I feel as though the job description means that you can’t exactly be swaying with your shots, so his tolerance would be piss poor. You could probably get him to drink a 12 pack with you, but just watch out: he might start showing a human emotion, and that’ll be uncomfortable for both of you.

Cass - 8/10: There’s something to be said about the fact that you need at least 8 Endurance to be able to beat her at the drinking contest to recruit her. Obviously she can hold her liquor, but I WILL dock points for being sloppy about it. (Girl how did you manage to wake up with a random soldier after the battle??? Don’t you know what your mailman looks like???) Share the whiskey but make sure you loop her belt around a pipe or something so she doesn’t run off.

Veronica - 3/10: I love Veronica. I love her so much. I don’t think she can hold her liquor to save her life. I think Ronnie is a ‘3 drinks and she’s out’ kind of girl. That being said, I also think that she could probably get through most of a box of hard seltzers before she starts feeling it, and I think she’d shotgun them with her Power Fist to be funny.

Raul - 10/10: He’s a ghoul, he’s old, and he’s miserable 95% of the time. I think if you handed him a bottle of Dubious Liquid he wouldn’t even hesitate to drink it. I think he’s drank rubbing alcohol just to see what would happen. I think if you give him a totally intact, unopened, top shelf bottle of tequila, he’d have to excuse himself to the other room for a minute. Definitely the one I’d want to go drinking with.

Lily - 15/10: Mamaw’s 7 feet tall and 500 pounds of sheer muscle with a super mutant metabolism, I don’t even think conventional liquor would affect her tbh. I think she’s drinking that Jacobstown Moonshine that melts spoons and eats through glass. I think she could drink a can of turpentine and it would be like a White Claw. Go grandma, but for the love of god not to the bar. I do NOT have the caps for that.

Rex - 6/10: Okay hear me out (again). He’s an old as hell cyber dog who went through multiple owners, he’s probably got more metal than organs, and the last guys who had him were Elvis impersonators who do fuckall all day but day drink and watch each other do cabaret. You look me in the face and tell me that dog hasn’t had more booze pass through his system than the average wastelander. It’s still only a 6/10 because he shouldn’t be getting it, but are you gonna tell him no? Look at that face. And lower your glass.

ED-E - 0/10: Please do not pour liquor into the orb.

[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?

[elegantgardenrunaway]

Today, we dance

PreCrash! Captain Curly x reader

A/N: Sorry, I couldn't resist. Haha. Anyways, this is not proofread and English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

(Image found in Pinterest)

Just think about finding captain Curly after the whole birthday ordeal. The room is still decorated while he's just sitting there, with his head down with an unreadable expression on his face.

You don't say anything as you sit next to him, not really knowing what to do, this was beyond your paycheck. Well, your last paycheck, the idea is still making you nauseous. You don't know what you are going to do after this, if you are going to be able to get another job or if this will be it for you. The weight of the news is crushing both of you, suffocating you in its silence.

You glance at him, then look around the room, the room which you hoped to celebrate your captain and decide here and there that this was too somber. This was supposed to be his celebration, his day and you'll be damned if you let it end like this.

Besides, you needed some distraction, maybe he did too.

You are a little ashamed to admit that it took you some time to get the courage to put your idea into motion, worried you may be stepping a boundary or just doing something in a time that wasn't right. Sure, the captain and you were getting close as of late, but you wouldn't say you have that kind of trust, not to mention it wasn't really professional.

But it's not like you have anything to lose now, right?

You turn on the radio, put some music, take his hands, invite him to dance "just one piece", you say, anything to lift his mood. It takes some convincing, a lot of convincing.

"We still have work to do" he says.

"To hell with work" you respond, taking his hands to guide him "Forget the work, the company, everything. Tomorrow we'll drown, today? Today, we dance. If you want to, of course."

He observed you, with those blue eyes with something you had never seen before, something you can't describe.

To be completely honest, you were expecting a refusal.

You were pleasantly surprised when he didn't.

His callused, warm hands awkwardly held you, not exactly knowing what to do.

"... I have to tell you..." He whispered slowly, sounding as if he was confessing a crime "... I'm not a good dancer..."

You blinked. You didn't expect him to say that. Captain Curly? A bad dancer? The idea made you snort.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing, sorry... " you shook your head, giving him an apologetic smile, hoping that you were not being rude. That's the last thing you want to do to him. You guided one of his hands to your waist, the other holding yours "... It's just that... That's very hard to believe coming from you, captain."

He just shrugged. For some reason, the easy smile he usually gives seemed different. You can't help but wish you could see it more often.

"What can I say? Being a captain is not exactly a job where I can really do these kinds of things..."

You chuckled "Don't worry, we are not doing anything complicated of sorts" you reassured "Just follow my lead..."

You started to guide the captain through the music. Nothing difficult, just simple, easy to remember movements. As you progressed with your impromptu dancing clases, you didn't notice when your bodies got so close to each other, to the point he had his chin resting on your head while you were resting on his chest.

The mellow melody taking you to another world, another earth. There were no screens, no pixels, no pony express, no worries about the future. Just the two of you, swaying with the music. This was all you could offer to him.

And you hoped that was a good enough birthday gift.

"You know, you are not as bad a dancer as you said you were"

"Hmm? You think so?"

"Mhm, but if you really feel like it... I can give you some classes..."

"... That..."

"Ah...Sorry-"

"No! Don't be!"

"..."

"... It actually sounds wonderful"

"Really?"

"...Really"

"... Well, we have some time before we arrive at the destination... We can see each other during our breaks..."

"I'm looking forward to it then"

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥

↳ summary: everyone knew you loved your lazy sundays. but that didn't stop them from bothering you

↳ warnings: mentions of fights and ponyboy getting jumped. nothing serious

↳ notes: could be interpreted as platonic or romantic with whoever you like. just some silly times

↳ song: we're gonna move—elvis presley

masterlist | commissions | carrd

Sundays at the Curtis household were normally calm.

Maybe it was because that was the day before school would start up again for Ponyboy— it used to be that way for both him and Sodapop until his big brother dropped out —or maybe it was because that was the lords day; at least according to the bible. Whatever the case, you knew you could always rely on an unlocked door and comfy couch awaiting you each time you jumped the chain link fence in their front yard. Just as long as it was Sunday.

So, understandably, you were peeved when Steve Randal and Two-Bit had come bursting through the front door looking for a fight.

"Come on man!" Two-Bit, otherwise known as Keith Matthews by his mother and kid sister, but only by his mother and kid sister, was currently whining your name in a way that he would only do if he wanted something. "Those soc's deserve it for what they did to Pony yesterday!"

Warm sunlight from the clear afternoon day peaked through the window panes behind you, lighting up each and every crevice in the front room of the house. A great black and white picture show was running on the TV, the likes of which had captured your attention for most of the day as you lay on Darry Curtis' couch, only ever moving to help out with chores when asked by him or Soda.

You scowled from your spot on that same trashy floral couch as before, flipping Two-Bit off quick enough so that Darry didn't see you. Even though he was in the other room working on dishes with Soda, you knew he would be able to tell. He was magic in a way like that. Annoyingly magic.

"What's with the shake up?" Steve questioned through the cigarette in his mouth, looking down at you from his nose. "Just last week you were itching for a rumble, and now all you want to do is sit and watch TV like some bum?"

"Wrong. Now all I want to do is sit on the couch and watch cartoons like some bum." You corrected him with a bit of snark in your tone, knowing that he hated that sort of thing. You saw Two-Bit's lips quirk up in a smile from the corner of your eye, reminding you temporarily of the shared love of cartoons that the two of you held.

"It's Sunday." Soda strolled in from the other room with a damp rag in his hands, tossing it down on the couch cushions as he went to clap Steve on the back—the way he always did when he saw his best friend. "You know they like their Sundays, guys."

"Screw their Sundays." Steve scoffed without any real malice behind the action. "Dally's on his way over with Johnny right now to meet us before the fight. We just wanted to come and get you before they got here."

With a halfhearted groan you let your head hit the back of the couch. If Dallas was coming over, you knew that the gangs minds had already been made up. Dally could be awfully convincing when he wanted to get his way, and that was more often than not. Really there was no sense in arguing now, but sometimes you had less sense then you'd like to admit.

"I'll tell Darry ya'll are gonna start up a fight." You said in a last ditch effort to keep your lovely spot on the warm couch. You were just met with knowing smiles.

"Awh you know he'd let us go if we promised to not get anymore blood on his floor comin' home." Two-Bit's smile widened, and you knew that he could tell they'd worn you down. That's how it always went when they wanted to fight during an off day for you, and you should be more used to it by now.

With the beginnings of a slow chew on your bottom lip, you mulled it over. Despite what one could think about Darry, that he yelled at his brothers too much or was too hard on Pony, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to get into a fight of his own for one of his brothers, even if he had work the next day. And that was a stone cold fact.

The screen door to the Curtis home squeaked open for the second time in just a few minutes, the entrance giving way to two more figures in dark clothing and greased up hair. One was nursing a cigarette butt while the other swayed side to side in a nervous tick.

"Ready to split?" Dallas Winston let a puff of smoke escape his lips as he grinned, looking around at the small group that had gathered in the living room. Johnny Cade shuffled behind him, and despite the current situation, you made time to send a welcome wave in his direction. He nodded back with a light glint in his eyes.

"Most of us." Soda laughed at Dally's question, ratting you out with a single look in your direction.

"I swear to god man, we do this every time." Dally shook his head as if he'd been expecting this. He looked at you dead on, almost as if trying to pry an explanation out of you this time. You resisted the urge to scrunch your nose up as he did so.

"Don't worry Dal, we just got 'em on the fence." Two-Bit smiled, and you hated that he was right.

With a sigh, you dusted your lap off before getting up, ignoring the small cheer that came from Soda and Two-Bit as you did so. From behind them Johnny smiled that little smile of his.

Dally even let a small one of his own slip, and you cursed whoever decided to give him such long eyelashes. One wrong downward tilt of his head, and sometimes you felt like he could get you to do whatever he wanted if he just asked.

"I'm coming, but next Sunday if any of you so much as ask me into town, I'll start a fight of my own." You pursed your lips. Another cheer rose between the six of you, and somehow you just knew that next week the exact same thing would happen, just as it always did. Good thing it never really bothered you. Nothing these guys ever do would, even though you'd never admit it to them.

"And just to be clear I want you to know I'm only going because it was Pony that was jumped!" You raised your voice through the pre-celebration, trying to stop the smile breaking out across your face from growing any wider. "If it was any of you idiots, I'd go join the other side!"

Playful boo's broke out as Soda slung an arm around your shoulders. A hand was quick to fly up to your hair with an attempted noogie, but you shook your head wildly enough to hault it.

Leaving the security of the plush couch and the drone of the Curtis' TV, you found yourself walking down the street with Dally's cigarette between your lips, taking a puff of it before handing it back to him. As the white smoke drifted up into the blue sky above, you thought about the people around you, and smiled.

Now you just had to hope you wouldn't ruin yet another shirt with blood.

[taintandviolent]

Thrill of the Rush ; James March x reader

summary: Reader is a murderer, coquettish and demure in nature. She brings a man to the Hotel Cortez, and it ends how it always ends for them. The only difference, is that James March is watching her and is enamoured.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 2.6k! | serial killer!reader, graphic descriptions of murder, violence, blood and gore, descriptions of smut, cunnilingus, arousal, kissing/making out.

a/n: requested by anonymous and inspired by Lana Del Rey's Serial Killer song! hopefully this isn't too clunky, or boring in anyway! proofread very briefly, if you see any mistakes, no you didn't.

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you'd like to be notified of future fics!

Elvis’s voice drifted from your speaker. The hotel room was cool, a stark contrast to the hot LA summer outside. The room itself was outdated in decor and architecture, something that you found charming – you’d chosen it specifically for its gorgeous, untouched art deco style. Stephen protested, saying it was rundown and dingy. You shushed him with a single manicured finger and led him inside, heading straight for the hotel desk. 

He was a man. A stupid, hungry man who could only think with one head at a time. So, it didn’t take much for you to get up to the hotel room, and onto the bed. You’d let the strap of your dress fall off your creamy soft shoulder, coaxing him closer to you.

He nuzzled his lips into your breast, tugging softly at the skin. He muttered something into your skin, something grotesque, and you didn’t hear him. You were too busy listening to the thud of your own heartbeat – your own excited little heartbeat. You reached into your purse, which had been laying next to you, to retrieve the knife. It was a beautiful thing; pink pearlescent inlay on the handle, and a long, shimmery silver blade. 

Raising it high above his head, your elegant fingers gripped the rosy hilt of your knife, and using all your strength, stabbed it into the side of the man's neck. The blade sliced through his skin like butter, giving no resistance. There was nothing like the sensation of killing – it never failed in making your eyes glisten, a cruel fire burning bright within them. Your chest fluttered with excited little breaths, rushing out over your pouting, pink lips in tiny gusts. The thrill, the rush, it was unlike anything you’d ever experienced – even sex. No man had ever made you feel the way killing him did. You twisted the knife slightly. 

In response, he gurgled; a delightful sound that had you giggling. You had angled the knife just right, plunging it deep before yanking it out quickly. The blood spurted out in a warm geyser over your hand, trailing down your wrist in crimson ribbons. His hand flew to his neck, pitifully trying to stop the flowing river. You slapped his hand away softly. 

"Pl-please..." He murmured, as his body started to droop away from yours. 

You bent over, kissing the man on the forehead. As darling as you had been before, maybe even more so then. “Oh, baby…” you whispered, cloyingly sweet and soft like a summer day. He knew that he was going to die, and the begging was futile. Still, he persisted, wet and coughing between each plea. 

You pushed him off of your breast, and more blood squirted out, the arteries pumping it out with each beat of his heart. James' dark pupils widened, watching as you worked. He hadn’t made himself known yet, and wouldn’t until you were finished. Nothing should interrupt this delicious display of cruelty. 

“Tell me you love me,” you whispered. “Tell me I’m the sweetest girl you’ve ever seen.” He didn’t. He didn’t say anything else… and he never would again. 

“Hmph.” Frustrated, you got off the bed, and smoothed your hands over your hips; the satin of your slip dress was warm and soft and provided no friction. 

"Seems you've got yourself between a rock and hard place, my dear." 

You spun around. In front of you stood a dashing man, dressed to the nines and resting some of his weight on a cane. He was handsome, but possessed a coldness that drew you in. He wasn't like the others.

"How did you get in here?!" 

"The door was..." He turned to look at it, casually. "Open." 

"No..." You shook your head, soft curls bouncing. Your tone was coy, knowing. "No, it wasn't." 

"Ah," he said, tightening his lips into a sly smile. Had his heart been beating, it would’ve quickened at your darling little response. You were quick; a trait that he enjoyed and very rarely saw.

"He deserved it, you know." You looked at the man on the bed with a disproving sourness in your gaze. His body had slumped over the side of the mattress, blood streamed from the gash in his neck to his hairline, staining it red. 

"I don't doubt that." He inhaled, stepping further into your room. "However... The problem remains of what to do with him. I presume you’ve yet to figure that out." His voice had your knees weak, turning the tendons to jell-o every time he spoke. It was so deep and croony, like molasses if it had a voice. 

"No," you trilled. "No, but you seem like you do." 

"I do," he started. There you went with your quick-witted confidence again. "You see, I have built this hotel to satisfy... my every need and whim, whatever they may be. I have a way to dispose of him for you." 

Your hand lifted to your shoulder, your finger winding a lock of hair around it. You pursed your lips, as though you were considering his offer. The truth was, you’d already made up your mind. He was dangerous, unafraid, but interested in you. A refreshing change from the rest of the men that you courted and ultimately killed. Besides, he was right. You had a corpse in the room and were unsure what to do with it, besides leaving it and requesting another room, claiming something trivial like the hot water not working. 

"Why are you doing this?" You ask, running your tongue along the bottom of your teeth, before coming to rest in the corner of your mouth. "You don't even know me." 

"I don't, my little buttercup, this is fact, but what I do know of you, I crave." 

Your knees wobbled. Somehow, he’d captivated you. You were never taken by men; they were useless, dumb playthings that you disposed of as soon as you got bored with them. You were never the one that was wrapped around a finger, it was always the other way around. But something… something about this man and the sick, nasty glimmer in his pitch-black eyes had you shivering.

“James March,” he declared proudly, before offering his hand. You placed your own atop his palm, and he leaned down, pressing his lips softly against your knuckles. Your lips tensed, withholding a whimper. 

All at once, he closed in the distance between the two of you. Exactly what you wanted him to do, and without asking. You gasped, looking up into his soulless gaze. “Hold me,” you whispered. “Please.” 

With a single nod, he enclosed you in a frighteningly firm grasp. You weren’t going anywhere – not that you wanted to. 

“I don’t know what you do… or what you’ve done…” you whispered, feeling light in his arms. He held you like old movie stars held their beloved; arms wrapped passionately around the waist, holding you tight at the hip. James waited, on bated breath, for you to finish your sentence. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes, and pressed your soft lips against his. They were cool, and immediately surrendered to yours, parting to exhale into your mouth. As his breath filled your lungs, you succumbed to every feeling he was pulling from you; your legs quivered and pressed together tightly. Your core tightened, and your cunt clenched with arousal. Slick leaked into the silk of your underwear, staining the fabric with your submissiveness.

His head tilted, allowing him to go deeper inside your mouth. His tongue slipped along yours, twirling and exploring the soft, slippery flesh of your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, James walked you backwards, guiding you towards the bed. His shin knocked into the corpse’s head, which lolled lifelessly.

You were at his mercy, and gasping for air, broke the kiss to look down at your feet. Stephen’s eyes were glazed over now, void of life. He had paled, the crimson stark against his bloodless skin. A puddle had settled beneath his head, seeping into the carpet. You broke away from James and bent down, shoving all your weight down on Stephen's shoulders. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in, so he rolled over easily, towards the edge of the bed, which freed up most of the bed for whatever came next. 

You immediately snuggled yourself back into James’ arms, nestling against his chest. “There… all better.” 

He hmm’ed at the crown of your head, holding you tight. His hips ground against yours, a stiffness pressing into your hip bone. A reminder – he was a man. But not akin to the other men… he was different. You looked up, gazing into his eyes. 

James guided you backwards onto the bed, your ass hitting the mattress with a squeak of protest from the old springs. Placing one hand on either side of your hips, he kissed you again, urging you back further yet. He was intoxicating. Everything he did had you quivering like a lamb in the jaws of a wolf – and you wanted more of it. More of everything. You wanted him. 

“I love you just a little too much,” you cooed, brushing your lips over his neck. The satin of his ascot brushed against your chin and you longed to feel it tied around your wrists. Your hand brushed along his bulge, feeling the taut fabric that covered it. As the feelings bubbled up inside of you, effervescent like champagne, you couldn’t stand it. No man should ever make you feel the way he did and with a small gasp of air, you reached for your knife again. James caught you fast, holding your wrist in an iron grip. 

“I’m afraid not, my dear. You won’t get that pleasure with me.” 

“Pleasure?” You asked, doe-eyed, feigning innocence yet again. 

“Perhaps another pleasure,” he cooed against your lips, his moustache tickling the flesh under your nose. You were divine… a shining beacon of temptation amongst a sea of poor fools. It had been decades since a woman captivated him the way you did. 

James sank to his knees, slowly, as you watched, holding your breath. His hands gathered your satin slip over your knees, and pushed it over your hips, exposing your silken underwear. The wet spot had grown considerably, and James pressed his lips against the damp fabric. The sensation was electric, sending chills up your spine in a wave of unadulterated pleasure. He kissed her again, pressing harder. He could almost taste her through the silk. You whimpered, and let your head drop between your shoulders. He brushed his lips across your mound again, and you got even wetter. For a brief moment, he disappeared and the reaction was painfully visceral.

“Don’t…. Don’t stop…” you said to the ceiling, out of breath and trembling. You could hardly get yourself upright to look at him. 

“I’ve no intention of doing so, my dear. None whatsoever.” Carefully, as though unwrapping a delicate gift, James pulled your underwear from your hips, tugging them delicately down your thighs. Murder always got him worked up, but this was an entirely different arousal.

“Let me see her…” he said, low His hands were on your thighs, resting carefully atop of them. 

Using your manicured fingers, you reached forward to spread your cunt to him, eagerly, obediently. She glistened in the low-lighting of the room and you heard him inhale. He leaned closer to her and began kitten-licking between your folds, sending a shockwave through your core. She clenched uncontrollably, tightening. James paused to observe, pleased with the reaction. He’d done so little, and you were already a mess. Placing his hands behind your knees, he scooted you further towards him.

Your cunt ached with everything he did; from the gentle touches to the way that his moustache tickled the soft skin of your inner thigh. You weren’t used to your heart beating this quickly outside of killing someone. He was making you feel things you’d long since forgotten. 

To say that you never experienced sexual pleasure would be a lie; you did. Usually, covered in blood and panting, after a kill, your body and senses would be so wound up that you’d finger yourself, use a vibrator, something to get yourself off. But this orgasm, you knew, would be different. And much quicker. 

With a breath, he flattened his tongue against your cunt, lapping at it hungrily. Your muscles all trembled, the first hint of an orgasm clawing at your insides. And just before you did, he pulled away. Cruelly. Mercilessly. As though he knew that he had you under his spell…. Oh, you’d kill him if he’d only let you. 

James slipped two fingers inside your waiting, wet cunt. You let out a desperate yelp, rocking your hips back and forth to meet his fingers. Electricity coursed through your core, your body quivering again. His fingers drilled into you, curling upwards with each thrust, hitting your sensitive spot. The pressure increased, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter around itself. You were close. 

“Speak to me,” he ordered. “Use your voice.” 

You swallowed, wetting your throat. It was frightfully hard to form words, your mind was too clouded with arousal and ecstasy. “C-can’t…. Feels…. So good….” 

James leaned forward again, the tip of his tongue drilling into your sensitive clit, twirling at it. After a moment, he encircled your clit with his lips, sucking softly. You were sweet, wet and singing for him. James hummed into your pussy, satisfied. With his fingers still thrusting inside you, the overstimulation was too much. Your coil snapped, and your hands flew to his hair, making tight fists in the greased locks. 

As you orgasmed, you called his name, chanting it over and over again like a prayer. He was there, between your legs, tugging you over the edge with whispered praises against your throbbing cunt. An attentive lover, James didn’t stop fucking you – or licking at you – until the final pulse subsided. 

“Now that I’ve made you mine,” he said, straightening up. “Let’s deal with your little hobby, my dear.” 

Made you his? You thought, chewing on the corner of your lip, as your eyes bored into his. How dare he – made you his. Despite feeling like you’d been bamboozled, you knew it was true. He’d made you his, and barred you from loving any other man again.

A knock at the door. You looked down at Stephen – you’d almost forgotten he was there. James got to his feet as the door opened, and you noticed that his cock had tented in his trousers, pulling against the fabric, begging for release. You gasped, looking at the woman as she entered. She was pushing a silver room service cart, though it was empty. 

“Fret not my dear, it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.” 

You furrowed your brows; his erection or a corpse in a hotel room? You weren’t sure which. Effortlessly, James hoisted Stephen’s expired body up onto the cart, waving his hand dismissively towards the woman, who hmm’d curtly, and made her way back towards the door. 

“Follow me,” he said, jovially as he headed towards the open door. He began whistling a tune, as though wheeling a body out into the hallway was the most normal, routine thing he’d done all day. Perhaps it was. You heaved a breath, and got up off the bed, pulling your underwear back up. 

“James, James, wait!” 

He paused. 

“Aren’t you going to… well…” 

His eyes followed yours to his groin, which was still stiff. You sucked on your bottom lip, looking up at him with come-hither eyes. Curiosity had gotten the best of you. Despite having just come, you wanted more, and you desperately wanted to know what the weight of his cock felt like in your hands.  

“Oh.” He smiled, pleased. With a slow nod, he reached forward to cup your chin with his large hands. “I’ll get mine.” 

[theelvisprincess]

Ride

Warning- Filthy

--

He couldn't help himself. The way you innocently had your hand out, thumb up asking passing cars to hitch a ride- that pretty look on your face once you saw him, he couldn't bring himself to not stop and offer assistance. He was all alone heading back from a quick cool off cruise from getting into a heated argument with Cilla about her getting rid of one of his beloved cars. The fact that she couldn't even calm little Lisa Marie down without the help of some Nanny when she woke from their shouting also got on his nerves. His eyes trail up your freshly shaven legs, your little work dress much too high for you to walk alone in this terrifying town of Hollywood. Swerving his car in front of the sidewalk he gives a soft smile with a hard to catch glint of lust in his eyes- reaching over he opens the door for you to get in. Your eyes lit up as soon as you realize who it is. you knew that he was cute but you didn't know that he was Elvis fucking Presley. Putting your purse in front of you- you timidly get into his obviously expensive Lincoln- sitting on top of the leather seat, gratitude fills your eyes as you look over at him.

All the thoughts of his little wife and daughter at home left his mind as soon as you gave him that shy smile- batting your long false eyelashes towards him.

‘’Where ya heading, honey?’’ .

As you give him your address you watch as his eyes peer down at your exposed thighs. giving you a swift nod- he tears his eyes away and starts to drive with one hand. The other seems to be holding a cigar- tilting the ash out the window. ‘’You live here or jus visiting?’’ He asks, the smell of smoke and woodsy cologne fill your scents as you run your fingers flirtatiously through your hair. ‘’I just moved here about a month ago with my parents.’’ 

Deeply humming at your explanation- he peers back at you. He’s betting money that you’ll be easy to persuade to tend to his needs. If you're comfortable enough wearing that skimpy dress and all that makeup he was almost sure. The way your fingers were swirling in your silky hair was also very telling. ‘’You always ask guys for rides or?’’ He gives a soft chuckle bringing his cigar up to his plump lips. The wind blows his black hair a little as he speeds down the mostly empty street. 

‘’N-no I…I just didn’t have a ride for today. This is new to me, I c-can give you money.’’ Looking down in a flustered manner you begin rummaging through your purse. His hand firmly rests on yours as he shoots you a smirk. ‘’Nah, I don’t need your money.’’

Setting his hand back on the gear, you shoot him a confused look as you zip your purse back up. ‘’You know- you're very nice for giving me a ride. I was standing there for nearly ten minutes.’’ A radiant smile replaces your pout as you look over at him. 

‘’A pretty girl like you? Well that don’t sound right. I’m glad I came along n’ got you before some wacky hippie did.’’ A blush creeps on your cheeks at the compliment as you let out a soft giggle. Your friends are going to flip once they hear about this. 

Your beautiful giggle was enough for Elvis to know there’s no way you’d turn him down. ‘’You're so far, honey. I ain’t gonna bite ya.’’ He teases as he brings his arm up to rest behind you on the top of the seat as he softly grips your arm, pulling your body into his side. His fingers begin grazing your smooth exposed arm. 

‘’Unless ya want me to.’’ He playfully whispers in your ear, giving your cheek a soft kiss. Shivering at his warm breath fanning over your neck- you can’t help but feel dizzy from the attention. Not only were you in the car with one of the most famous men of the twentieth century but he was clearly flirting with you. ‘’That does sounds like a good idea.’’ You flirt back as you bring your little hand to gently rest on his jean covered thigh. 

Smirking, he once again eyes your very much exposed thighs. ‘’Ain’t you cold walking around like that all day?’’

Shaking your head- you turn to face him. You're so close your nose almost bumps his jaw. Looking up at him you can’t help the slick that spills out of your hole- being next to him was intoxicating. His presence alone was enough to make you drool but the smell of his cologne surrounding you and the way his fingers are now pulling the dress strap off your shoulder- you feel completely enthralled by the whole situation. ‘’You’re tv special was so good.’’ You breathe out as he begins to run the pads of his fingertips up and onto your sensitive neck. Watching him speed up the streets of Hollywood- you gently bring your hand closer to his aching clothed length. 

Humming at your compliment- and the way your unchipped polished hand is slowly rising- he gives you a heartfelt grin- giving you an almost bashful blush. ‘’What part did ya like most, honey?’’ 

‘’When you sang ‘One Night’ in that black leather suit, it got me all worked up.’’ Your flirtatious tone sends a jolt straight down to his cock. Biting his lip to stop his coy smile, he squints his eyes to look over your pretty face. Your bright eyes are glazed over with need- a blush covering your kissable cheeks- your plump lips somewhat parted. Bringing the cigar to his lips, he sucks in a long drag. Tearing his eyes away from your gorgeous face he focuses back on the road- blowing the smoke into the car rather than out the window like he's being doing just so you can breathe some of it in. ‘’I outta stop the car, I can’t drive when all m’ thinking about is having your pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock, honey.’’ He chuckles as he finds the nearest empty parking lot. 

Blushing at his statement- excitement bubbles up in your lower stomach as you feel the cars rumbling echo throughout the small vacant parking lot. The music from the radio becomes nonexistent to you as your heartbeat starts to pick up as the car comes to a halt. You nervously chew on your lip as you gently squeeze his package- feeling it jump back to graze your palm. You let out a soft moan- looking up through thick eyelashes- you watch as this larger than life man moves down to trial wet kisses on your perfume smelling neck. You moan out his name as you feel his hand that was toying with your strap move to gently squeeze your breast. His other hand moves to run firmly up your thigh stopping just three inches away where you're craving him to be for minutes if not- years. Feeling heat from his cigar that’s still between his fingers on your thigh and his finger from his other hand grazing your nipple- you loudly whimper as you squish your thighs together for some friction. 

‘’Aw what’s the matter, honey?’’ He gives you a soft pout as if teasing you. He then leans in to gently kiss your temple. ‘’I ain’t gettin you all worked up again, am I?’’ You moan as you feel his fingers pinch your nipple through the dress and at his teasing tone that is getting you to come undone before his eyes. 

He has you all prepped- he knows damn well your panties are soaked by now, he just needs to check before forcing his cock down your throat. Trailing his fingers up- he groans at the feel of your lace panties. His length twitches against your palm as you feel his fingers gently rub circles on your panties- your slick coating him through the cloth. ‘’So damn wet- what are ya, a virgin?’’ He jokes as he brings his fingers up to suck on your sweet tasting slick. You whine as you widen your legs to give him more access for when he goes back down.

His other hand stops pinching your nipple and he goes to move his arm from over you to firmly grip onto your chin. Squeezing just enough for your lips to be jutted out like a little fish. He chuckles softly at your lustfully glazed over face and brings his lips hungirly on top of yours. Groaning at the taste of your cherry tasting lipstick- he lets go of your face to wrap his arm around your waist- pulling you on top of his lap. His other hand roughly grabs your butt that is now exposed from your dress being pulled up by him to be bunched around your waist- he pushes you down so your soaked panties meet his aching jean covered bulge. 

Your hands run through his thick hair as you feel his tongue gently graze against yours- the taste of tobacco and mint fill your mouth. Moaning at the taste- you can’t help but grind down on top of him making him groan deeply at the friction. 

‘’You're gonna pay me by swallowing what I give ya. What do ya think about that, honey?’’ He grumbles against your soft lips- moving his hands for one to wrap around your thigh and the other around your arm as he manhandles you so you can be face down in his crotch and ass up in the air next to him.  

He wasn’t usually like this- so straight to the point but there was something about you that he just needed. You exude this sexuality and it’s putting him under a spell. The curve of your perky butt fits his hands perfectly and he can’t get enough of that sweet scent that’s flowing from your little body. The way your rosy cheeks are adorned with freckles and your lust filled eyes are glazed over with tears. You had this certain look to you that just hit the spot for him.

‘’Go for it, pretty girl.’’ He softly purrs as he takes his left hand up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail- mainly so he can see you. You quickly follow his instruction and bring your hand forward- unzipping the jean you don’t expect him to not be wearing underwear- his length pops out grazing your finger. You moan needily at his size- definitely bigger than what the girls at work assumed it was. Wrapping your significantly smaller hand around him, you begin to pepper gentle kisses up and down his length as if you were worshiping it. ‘’You're so big, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to f-fit it all.’’

He drops his head back on the seat letting a groan rumble from deep within his chest as feels you slowly move your tiny hand up and down his length- beads of precum already spilling from the swollen tip. ‘’Sure you can- I’ll help you fit it all don’t worry..’’ Elvis goes to move your hair to the other side of your head so he can firmly grip the back of your neck. Maintaining eye contact he pushes your head to lower towards his crotch. ‘’Open wide like a good little girl.’’

You moan as you taste the singer's precum as he lowers your head for you to take him in your mouth. Your jaw already burns from the stretch as your eyes begin to become completely blurry due to him slowly pushing you down to hit the back of your throat. Growling through gritted teeth- he pulls you back up, sensing your oxygen being cut off. ‘’Breath through your nose.’’ He commands as he uses your mouth once again- doing the same exact thing. Groaning at your tongue grazing the sensitive veins that trail the side of his length- he unexpectedly raises his hips up to grind against the roof of your mouth- causing tears to spill from your smudged liner eyes and for you to choke loudly around him. 

‘’M' sorry- I just can't help myself- your mouth is just taking me so fucking good, baby.’’ He grunts out as he begins to gradually pick up the pace as he watches you struggle against him- only turning him on more. Your little hands grip his thigh for support as you needily arch your back like a bitch in heat. He’s loving this way more than he’d thought- his wife never lets him do this- she’s too prime and proper but you- you're just the stress reliever he’s been needing. You moan loudly around his twitching length as you feel two fingers dip inside of your white panties and slowly slip inside of your tight hole. ‘’Were you gonna do this with any man who picked you up? Did ole daddy yell at you so you decided you were gonna be a slut for the day or what?’’

Feeling so full, you loudly moan around him. His fingers so deep their grazing places you never knew existed- his cock going so deep inside your mouth you feel as though it is in your chest. ‘’Fuck.’’ You hear Elvis grit between clenched teeth as he inserts a third finger into your weeping hole. Precum once again fills your mouth as he eagerly forces himself down your unyielding throat over and over. His fingers start to pick up pace inside of you- his wedding ring grazing your thigh causes you to moan around him. You try and protest as he continues to use your mouth but this only makes him roughly grip your hair pulling you back so his length falls on his jeans and your tear glossed eyes gaze up at him. ‘’C’mon, I know you can take it- if ya wan’ed me ta stop so bad then why the hell are ya clenching around my damn fingers?’’ You embarrassingly close your eyes in shame as you feel yourself clench another time around his fingers as you hear how his southern accent thickened from the last time you heard it. ‘’M’ s-sorry.’’ You whine out as you feel his fingers leave your needy hole.

‘’Quiet baby- jus take it.’’ Clenching around nothing due to the nickname- you obediently nod your head and lean down trying to mimic what he was doing to you moments ago. You feel his thigh tense under your hands as you sink back down on him. ‘’Thas it, keep goin jus’ like that little girl.’’ 

You moan around his twitching length as you feel his hand make its way down your arched back to pull on your panties- ripping them off of you and bringing them towards your face. ‘’You already ruined them- I might as well jus’ keep em.’’ He grunts as he reaches over to throw them inside the glove department. 

You pick up the pace- feeling as though you must prove yourself and show him what a good girl you can be for him- you begin replicating exactly what he was forcing you to do earlier. A throaty whimper escapes from him as he begins to thrust up almost desperately. His right hand makes its way to rub circles onto your swollen clit as he feels himself get closer. His left hand is still on top of your neck- a reminder that if you falter he will take it upon himself to use your mouth hole the way he wants. “Such a fuckin slut- thought ya said ya couldn’t take it.” He mocks as he watches how good you are taking him.

You loudly moan around his length, sending vibrations that shoot straight to his soul. He couldn’t get enough of you- the fact that you were so willing to please him the way he’s been craving is driving him crazy. Taking in you desperately trying to make him reach his climax- he can’t help but let go of your neck and grip onto the top of the dress pulling it down to expose your matching white lace bra. He groans at the sight as he reaches forward and gives your breast a soft squeeze. “Baby- I- I can’t go much longer fuckin s-shit.” He groans as his head drops back onto the headrest. His left hand goes back up, taking a drag of the cigar that is still situated between his fingers. He smirks as he blows the air into your face- watching as it forces you to inhale since your mouth was busy bobbing on his cock. He didn’t expect his Friday night to turn out like this but he couldn’t feel more blessed for how it did- he’s always been a sucker for girls who give great head. “Shit-“ he hisses as he feels you completely take him in your throat. You back up for air- strings of saliva and precum falling from your mouth covering his length completely in mixed slick. He brings his hand away from your needy clit and begins to pump himself- groaning at how easily his hand was slipping up and down his length due to you being completely sloppy.

“Lemme cum on your pretty little face- whatever lands in your mouth you be a good girl n’ swallow, got it?’’ Taking one last drag from his cigar he flicks it out of the window- as he blows the smoke once again in your direction. ’’Get on your knees for me n’ keep that little mouth open.” You eagerly nod as you move your whole body to fit in between his thighs- the steering wheel crushing the pink bow you carefully placed on for work. 

God- Elvis was loving this way too much. You were so damn eager to please him and that made him all the more turned on. Looking down sternly- he takes in your state. Your tears caused streaks of mascara to run down your rosy cheeks, your hair that was once perfectly done up- a complete mess, most of the hair in the front sticking to your forehead and cheeks due to how much effort you were putting in to make his length perfectly coated. Your lips were completely bruised- no sign of lipstick left and your pretty eyes were staring up at him as if he were some God you were about to worship. You were everything he’s been needing for a quick fix and all you did so far was give him amazing head and let his fingers plunge into your incredibly tight hole. Groaning loudly- he bites down hard on his bottom lip as he feels himself get closer. 

‘’Please- please I need it.’’ Watching you plead and open your mouth to stick your eager tongue out did nothing but prove to him how much of a slut you actually were being. Growling pervertedly- he takes his free hand to roughly wrap around your neck to force your tongue onto his leaking tip. Squeezing tightly around your slim neck- you begin to feel lightheaded. ‘’You were made for this weren’t ya? Keep that tongue out so daddy can feed you, huh.’’ 

Clenching around nothing at his words- you desperately start kitten licking the tip as his hands steadily pump his large length up and down. His wedding ring blinding you each time he moves up under your lips due to the street lamp shining brightly from outside the car. Biting hard on his lip- he can’t help the grin that overtakes his mouth. ‘’Open wide, baby..’’ You obediently listen and he can’t help but chuckle lightly as you dumbly comply. He barely fucked your mouth a little and stuck three fingers in- how were you this brainless already? ‘’Such’a good little girl.’’ He teasingly nods at you- groaning as a string of saliva from your tongue drips on top of his length sending shivers throughout his body. 

Your little eyes pleading for air and his seed was enough for him- he loudly moans as he shoots his week long load into your mouth. Ropes of it getting stuck in your eyelashes and splashing on your cheeks but most of it making its way onto your little tongue. His eyes clamp shut as he harshly drops his head back onto the headrest- still pumping himself due to the enormous amount of cum he still has in him. Letting go of his tight grasp on your neck- he brings his other hand to delicately brush the sticky strands of hair out of your face. ‘’Swallow.’’ He sternly demands as he peers down at your tongue that is fully covered in white. You let out a whimper as you follow his instruction- soon moaning at the surprisingly sweet taste of him. ‘’You don’t wanna let none go to waste, do ya?’’ Tauntingly questioning you, he swipes some of the cum that landed on his jeans and brings it to your mouth shooting you his signature crooked grin. His forehead was beaded with sweat- chest heaving up and down as his climax finally comes to a stop. 

Your mouth wraps around his long finger as you sensually bob on it back and forth making sure none was going to waste. ‘’Don do it it like that- your gonna get my cock goin again.’’ You giggle lightly at his playful expression and lean down to lick up the trials of cum that were leaking down his softening length. Hissing at being overstimulated- he watches through half lidded eyes as you clean up the mess you made. Craning his neck forward- he takes hold of the back of your neck and pulls you up to clash his lips onto your slick tasting ones. Groaning onto your mouth he gently cups the side of your face as his soft pillowy lips begin needily kissing your bruised ones. You hum gently at how much of a great kisser he is as you return to be seated on top of his lap. His length rests right underneath your aching hole. ‘’Woah, careful baby.’’ He demands- concern filling his eyes as he lifts you up so you're not directly on top of his length. ‘’You gotta wrap?’’

Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s asking. You would think that a man like him would keep a condom in his glove department or even his wallet. You shake your head. ‘’No- I’m sorry… I didn’t think I would be doing anything like this today.’’ You laugh out as you help lift yourself up by placing your hands firmly on his shoulders. He lets out a bashful laugh and bites his lip in deep thought. His eyes twinkling as he peers down into yours. ‘’Me either- I-’’ He pauses looking down at your scrunched up dress. You looked so damn good hovering right above where he wanted you to be wrapped around him most. 

You intently gaze at him. Making eye contact with you once again- he leans forward to give you a passionate kiss. Your lips dance together as his other hand rests firmly on your curved waist. He gently brings your hips down- feeling his semi-hard length twitch against your lace panties makes you softly gasp in his mouth. Pulling abruptly away from the heated kiss- anxiety begins to pool in your stomach. ‘’I- Elvis. I’m sorry but I should really be heading home- my dads going to kill me for how late I am.’’ Lying through your teeth- you couldn’t help but feel subconscious. He has no idea that you are indeed a virgin and with the joke he made earlier, you aren’t sure if he would be into that. 

If only you knew how wrong you’d be.. 

His eyebrows furrow as he intently looks back at you. A part of him not wanting to let you out of his sight. It was as if you changed his brain chemistry because all he could think about now was you. The way you obediently followed his every word- the way you didn’t try and truly fight back. You gave him just what he’s been looking for…a little doll that he can use however he wants. Sighing softly he comes to terms with what you're saying. ‘’Y-your right. We don even got a…. ya know. Don want another little Presley running around.’’ He hastily agrees as he gently pushes your dress neatly back in place. Your heart skips a beat at his attentiveness and you trial your hands carefully through his black hair. He gives you another gentle kiss on the lips as he rubs circles into your clothed waist. ‘’I needa see ya again.’’ He coos as he brings his other hand up to rub against your cheek. Giggling softly at how sweet he’s being- you feel his length twitch against your thigh. ‘’So does he.’’ Elvis jokes as he brings you in for another kiss. This one however felt slower than any other- as if there was a certain ‘thank you’ hidden behind it. 

Humming into the kiss- you reach your hand down to carefully place his length back into his pants- making him groan into your mouth during the process due to the tightness of his jeans. Pulling away, he peers into your sparkling eyes. Butterflies swirl inside of your tummy as you observe the way he’s looking at you.

‘’Be a good girl one last time n’ give me your number, pretty.’’ 

------- -------------------- -------

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII hope you guys liked it omg- I wrote this one in a couple of hours! Let me know PLEASE if you want a part 2 to this in the comments- and if so please give me ideas, lovelies<3 I appreciate you all n' I hope you enjoyed. Thank you very much for reading, love ya'll !!!!!! Elvis is indeed a naughty guy AHAHAHAHA

tag list: @elviswhore69 @atleastpleasetelephone @lustnhim @jhoneybees @hooked-on-elvis

@eptodaytommorowforever @oldermenlvrgrl @jacksonwayne-blog @iloveelvisss @elvisvideos

[austinswife]

TIMELESS

REQUEST — by @sxphia-g

SYPNOSIS — Y/N and Austin Butler were co-stars on a hit Disney show in their teenage years, sparking a relationship that quickly made them one of Hollywood’s favorite young couples. Years later, Y/N’s portrayal of Belle in Beauty and the Beast and Austin’s iconic performance as Elvis Presley solidified their positions as superstars. Despite the pressures of fame, long distances, and the chaos that comes with their high-profile careers, their love never faltered. Fans look back on their favorite moments over the years, recalling how the couple stood by each other through it all, from their Disney days to walking red carpets at award shows. This is a recollection of their love story as told by those who adore them most.

WARNING(S) — Fluff, brief mentions of media speculation and fan culture, strong emotional connections.

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEA SUGGESTION, REQUEST — TO AUSTINSWIFE

divider by @/chilumitos

The love story of Y/N and Austin Butler is one that fans have been following for over a decade, ever since their debut on Disney Channel. The two met on the set of the hit show Teen Spirits, where Austin played the laid-back, charismatic lead, and Y/N had a recurring role as his love interest during a pivotal season. While Y/N’s time on the show was brief, their chemistry was undeniable, and their bond only grew stronger off-screen.

Fans on social media have frequently recounted their favorite moments with the couple. As they both transitioned into adulthood and forged their own careers, their relationship stayed as iconic as ever. Interviews, red carpet appearances, and social media posts all gave glimpses into their lasting bond, and fans couldn’t help but admire the way they supported each other throughout their journeys.

YEAR ONE: THE DISNEY CHANNEL YEARS

“I remember when they did that Disney Channel holiday special and Austin was giving an interview about his favorite Christmas traditions,” a fan recalls in a Twitter thread. “He kept getting distracted because Y/N was playing with the ornaments behind him, and you could just tell he was smitten. It was so cute!”

During their time on Teen Spirits, Y/N and Austin kept their relationship relatively private, but fans could always sense the connection between them. The way Austin’s eyes would light up whenever Y/N was around, or how she would laugh a little too hard at his jokes—those small moments made it clear that something special was brewing.

After Y/N’s final episode aired, the rumors started swirling. Paparazzi caught them at a music festival together, and soon after, Austin confirmed in an interview that they were dating. The media was abuzz, but their fans were elated. They were the “it” couple of Disney, the ones who weren’t just characters on-screen but seemed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company off-screen too.

YEAR FIVE: Y/N BECOME BELLE

As the years passed, both Y/N and Austin took on bigger projects. Y/N’s role as Belle in the live-action adaptation of Beauty and the Beast was a massive success, earning her acclaim as one of the most talented actresses of her generation. Fans loved seeing her take on such an iconic role, and even more, they loved how Austin stood by her side through it all.

“I remember when the trailer for Beauty and the Beast dropped, and Austin tweeted, ‘My Belle, always and forever,’ with a rose emoji,” one fan reminisces on TikTok. “That was the moment I knew they were endgame.”

Y/N often talked about how supportive Austin was during the filming of Beauty and the Beast. “He would send me flowers every week to remind me how proud he was,” she said in an interview. “Even though we were miles apart while I was on set, he made sure I never felt alone.”

Their red carpet appearance at the movie’s premiere was one for the books. Y/N, dressed in a stunning yellow gown that paid homage to Belle’s iconic look, walked hand-in-hand with Austin, who was dressed in a classic black tuxedo. The way they looked at each other, the subtle touches, and the way Austin never left her side that night cemented them as Hollywood’s golden couple.

YEAR TEN: THE ELVIS ERA

Things could have taken a turn when Austin was cast as Elvis Presley in Baz Luhrmann’s biopic, a role that required months of intense preparation and filming in Australia. Fans worried that the distance and the pressure of such a demanding role might strain their relationship. But Austin and Y/N proved, once again, that their love was stronger than any challenge.

“I’ll never forget the interview Austin did with GQ when he talked about Y/N staying with him in Australia during filming,” a fan posts on Reddit. “He said she was his anchor, and that every time things got overwhelming, he could count on her to bring him back to himself.”

Austin’s performance as Elvis was transformative. He dedicated himself to the role, and it paid off with critical acclaim and awards buzz. But even as he skyrocketed to new heights of fame, Y/N remained his biggest supporter. Fans couldn’t help but notice how, during press tours and interviews, Austin would always find a way to mention her. Whether it was talking about how she helped him stay grounded or how they spent their time off exploring the city together, it was clear that Y/N was always on his mind.

At the Oscars, when Austin was nominated for Best Actor, Y/N was by his side. “When they called his name, I swear I saw Y/N tear up,” one fan posted on Twitter. “And when he went up to accept his award, the first thing he did was thank her. It was such a beautiful moment.”

YEAR FIFTEEN: REFLECTING ON A TIMELESS LOVE

As their careers flourished, so did their relationship. They became known not only for their individual talents but also for how they uplifted each other. Fans have always been quick to point out the moments when Austin and Y/N were each other’s biggest cheerleaders, whether it was Austin gushing about Y/N’s voice in Beauty and the Beast or Y/N sharing how proud she was of Austin for his dedication to portraying Elvis.

“It’s rare to see a couple last this long in Hollywood, especially when they started so young,” one fan account posted. “But Austin and Y/N have always seemed different. They just… fit. Like, they’re two halves of a whole, and no matter how crazy things get, they’ve always got each other.”

In a heartfelt interview, Y/N once said, “We’ve been through so much together, from our Disney days to where we are now. It hasn’t always been easy, but the one constant has been our love for each other. He’s my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine doing life without him.”

Fans, too, couldn’t imagine a world where Y/N and Austin weren’t together. Their story, full of shared dreams, unwavering support, and endless love, was a beacon of hope for anyone who believed in lasting love.

Today, social media remains abuzz with clips, interviews, and fan edits of Austin and Y/N’s journey. From their early Disney days to the pinnacle of their careers, fans never stopped rooting for them.

One fan sums it up perfectly: “They’re the real-life fairytale. They’ve faced so many challenges, but in the end, their love always wins. It’s like something out of a movie, but better—because it’s real.”

And that’s how Y/N and Austin’s love story has remained, even after all these years. Real, timeless, and a true Hollywood legend.

Timeless is a love story remembered not only for the milestones shared between two superstars but for the way their love has become a part of their legacy.

i hope you enjoy this ♥︎

[sissylittlefeather]

Heartbreak Hotel

A/N: Whaaaaaaat a smutless one-shot? Never have I ever lol. No, but really. This idea came to me and @ccab and I couldn't not write it. This is Elvis during the filming of King Creole and a very shy reader.

Warnings: kissing, an erection, some sexy thoughts, and a foot rub

Word count: ~2.7k

"Y-you want me to do what?" You hold your clipboard to your chest and shake your head nervously. Surely your boss isn't asking you to do what you think he is. You're not even sure how you ended up working on the set of King Creole anyway. Your father must've had something to do with it.

"Go to the hotel and bring Elvis back to the set. I know we told him we were done for the day but we really need him to try on his wardrobe for tomorrow and the costume people just finished it." You understand the logic behind the request. That's not the part that confuses you.

"But why m-me, sir?" You anxiously chew on your bottom lip. It's been hard enough for you to work here with Elvis wandering around. Walking up to him directly is about the last thing you want to do. It's not that you don't like him. Quite the opposite, in fact. You love him. But you've always been a little mousy and shy and unsure of yourself. The idea of talking to him makes you want to crawl into a hole.

"You're young and cute. This assignment is going to really piss him off. We figured you might soften the blow. He can't very well yell at you." You blink several times and your eyes go even wider. The fact that it won't just be Elvis, it'll be angry Elvis, really makes your heart race like a rabbit's.

"W-what if he won't come?"

"Not an option. Convince him. Now, just go." You consider quitting your job right then, but you know that's not realistic. Sighing deeply, you turn to walk from the small office.

"Y/n!"

"Yeah?"

"Clipboard."

"Oh... yeah..." You hand him the clipboard and cross your arms tightly on your chest.

"Y/n. Please try not to look like you're about to cry." You nod your head and try to rearrange your face, but you are about to cry.

******

Somehow, the next thing you know, you're in the lobby of one of the nicest hotels in New Orleans.

"Can you please call Mr. Presley down here? I-I-I need to speak to him." The receptionist nods and calls up to his room. You don't hear the conversation, too distracted by looking around at the fancy decor.

"Alright. I'll let her know." You turn back to the receptionist. "He says you can come on up. He's in the penthouse. Just push the button with the "p" on the elevator."

You stand there with your mouth hanging open and she turns away to do some other task.

No. He was supposed to come down, not you come up. You look at the elevators and swallow deeply. Then, you walk over and push the button.

Once you're on the elevator, it dawns on you that you're going to be walking into what is essentially his home. That thought hits you like a freight train and you feel like you're going to throw up or pass out or both. Just when you decide you're not getting out of the elevator, the doors slide open and there's a quiet ding. The room is carpeted and you see him sitting on a couch.

"Hey, honey, come on in." He hollers without moving. You feel like you're about to die, but you inch your way into the room anyway and the doors close behind you. He leans forward a little and gestures for you to walk towards him. "C'mon then, I won't bite."

You take a few steps into the room and then try to speak. All that comes out is a quiet squeak, though and you shake your head, frustrated with your own incompetence. He can tell you're struggling, so he stands up and walks towards you. That does not help. He's even taller, more attractive, and more intense up close than far away.

"What is it, honey? They send you to fire me or somethin'?" You look up at him and squeak again. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and strokes your cheek gently. "You're a shy little thing, ain'tcha?"

"They want you back on set." You breathe a sigh of relief that you were finally able to talk.

"Back on set? No, I'm home for the night." You blink a few times, not really sure how to respond as he shakes his head.

"Please..." It comes out of you as a whispered plea and you want to scream at how pathetic you sound. He smiles softly.

"Okay. But only because you're too damn sweet to say no to." He squeezes the top of your arm and then encourages you toward the elevator with his hand on the small of your back. You really hope he can't feel how sweaty you are as he touches you.

You get back on the elevator and he pushes the button for the lobby. The elevator begins its descent and you stand next to each other in silence. A breath of relaxation washes over you. It's almost over.

Then it happens.

Somewhere between floors 5 and 6 the elevator screeches to a grinding halt. It knocks you off balance enough for him to have to catch you in his arms, your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

"Woah, honey, you okay?" You look up at him frozen in fear. He holds you for a few seconds too long and then stands you back up. His hands stay on your upper arms and you swear it's like he doesn't want to stop touching you.

And he doesn't. He rather enjoyed the feeling of you pressed up against him, your eyes wide and seeking reassurance. But he can't just move in and kiss you like he normally does with other girls. You might actually pass out. So instead, he leans his back against the wall of the small elevator and tries to smile at you in the sweetest way possible.

"Do I make you nervous, honey?" You look over at the elevator buttons like pressing one might get you out of this nightmare, but probably not. "Nobody else here. You're gonna have to talk to me."

You reluctantly look up at him and try to breathe steadily. You're finally able to whisper a response.

"Yes." His face breaks into an amused smile.

"Why?"

"Have you met you?!" It comes rushing out of you before you can stop it.

"I'm not sure how to answer that, sweetheart."

"I mean... I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize. I'm just not sure I know what you mean is all." For some reason, it's getting a little easier for you to talk to him.

"You're ridiculously famous. You have a presence. And you're unbelievably attr-" You stop yourself and look at the floor, blushing. He steps forward off the wall and tips your chin up, so that you have to look into his face.

"Unbelievably what?" Part of you wants to slap the cocky smirk right off his face, but you'd die before you did that. Finally, you squeak it out.

"Attractive." He steps forward again almost closing the gap between your bodies.

"You know, you're not so bad yourself."

"Gee, thanks."

"No, I'm serious, honey. I'd letcha eat crackers in my bed." Without thinking about it, you burst into a fit of giggles. "It wasn't that funny..."

"I'm sorry; it's just the image of me sitting in your bed eating crackers. Like that's what I'd be doing if I was in your bed." He runs his finger down the side of your face and moves just the smallest bit closer to you.

"What else would you be doing in my bed?" All of a sudden, you're not laughing anymore. Now you're thinking of all the things you might be doing and it makes you blush an even deeper red than you have before. Your heart is going so fast it feels like it might leap out of your chest. He senses your anxiety and backs up a little. "You don't have to answer that, honey. I'm sorry."

He's not used to how delicate you are. It's endearing. Like you need him to take care of you. It's a job that sounds better and better the longer he's on this elevator with you.

You nod and stay quiet, but you kind of miss how close he was to you. His presence, albeit intimidating at first, is comforting.

He turns and slides down the back wall to sit on the floor of the elevator. Then, he pats the floor beside himself. You decide there's not much else to do and he actually seems pretty harmless, so you sit down next to him on the floor and lean back against the wall. It feels good to sit down. You wore new shoes to work today and your feet have been killing you for hours. A small whimper falls from your lips as you try to stretch your feet a bit. You're dying to take the heels off, but you don't want to freak him out.

"What's wrong, honey?" He hears you whimper and his eyebrows come together with concern.

"Oh, nothing. My feet just hurt from these new shoes."

"Take 'em off."

"Really? You don't mind?" He chuckles a little.

"Not at all. There's no tellin' how long we might be stuck in here. Get comfortable." Normally, you'd never do such a thing but your feet do hurt really badly and he's right. You're trapped. You reach down and slowly pull the shoes off of your feet, wincing in pain. Your hose make it look like you have webbed feet, but you really don't care as you gingerly wiggle your toes. He watches you, dying to kiss you. You might be the cutest thing he's ever seen and your feet are so small and pretty.

"Do they hurt bad?"

"Yeah. I shouldn't have worn these today." You tap the shoes together in your hands. "I suppose beauty is pain, though."

He laughs and then an idea settles on him. He's not sure how you'll respond, but it's worth a try.

"You want me to rub 'em?" You look up at him suddenly for three reasons. First, you can't believe he said it. Second, it sounds amazing. And third, there's a hint of something in his voice that almost sounds like uncertainty.

"I couldn't let you do that."

"Why not? I really don't mind and what else are we doin' right now?" The vulnerability on his face melts you and you know you can't say no. You smile bashfully and turn to lean against the other wall and put your feet in his lap.

"Well, alright then. Thank you." He smiles a very natural and relaxed smile and then goes to work massaging one of your feet. You'd be lying if you said it didn't feel amazing. His hands are strong and he seems to know what he's doing. You moan a little louder than you intend to, but your feet were so sore that the relief is almost overwhelming. He looks at you when you moan and bites his bottom lip, thanking God that your eyes are closed as his gaze travels down over your figure. If you weren't so shy, he'd probably already have you half undressed. But he kind of likes that you're shy. It's cute and he can't complain about the added challenge. It's almost getting too easy to get girls to say yes.

You spend the next twenty minutes or so like this. He switches feet halfway through, but you sit in silence, moaning and whimpering every once in a while. What you don't know is that you're driving him absolutely crazy with the sounds you're making. If you're this vocal with a foot massage, how might you be in bed? The thought sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine and he shifts to keep your feet away from his erection. Surprisingly, you're the one who breaks the silence. You look up at him and he's looking down at your feet while he works. You can see his eyelashes and for some reason that makes him seem more real.

"What's it like? Being famous?" He takes a deep breath before he answers, not looking up from your feet, like he's trying to decide how honest he should be. He looks up into your eyes intensely.

"Lonesome. I was trying to think of a nicer word, but that's all that comes to mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful for everything that's happened. I wouldn't change any of it. But it's really very lonely, not knowing who loves you for you and who loves you for who they think you are."

By the end of it, his voice is thick with emotion and you don't think, you just act. You move back to sitting next to him and entwine your arm with his, taking his left hand in both of yours. He looks down at you as you settle your head onto his shoulder. Something inside him flip-flops and he doesn't feel so alone all of a sudden. He presses his lips to the top of your head gently.

You feel him kiss your hair and are overwhelmed with the need for him to kiss you more. He seems to sense this and tips your chin with his other hand, so that you're looking up into his face. There's only a few inches between his lips and yours and you notice his eyes flicking down as he leans in slowly.

"Can I...?" He asks quietly practically against your lips. This time your whisper is appropriate.

"Yes." He doesn't wait another second to dive into a kiss. It's sweet at first, but before too long, you part your lips and his tongue slides into your mouth. He holds the side of your face and you both sit up and turn towards each other as the kiss deepens. His hand drifts down to your hip and he squeezes it, pulling you towards him gently. You start to lift your leg to climb on top and straddle him, but just as you do, there's a soft ding and the elevator doors slide open.

You gasp and scramble back, wiping your mouth and shoving your shoes back on your feet. He looks at you dumbstruck with how quickly you shifted gears. He's still in the mindset that you're about to crawl in his lap.

"Honey, wait?" He rushes to his feet and tries to smooth his clothing. There's nothing he can do about his massive hard-on, though, so he turns and shoves it up under his belt. He feels you touch him near his hip, but he's too focused on what he's doing to acknowledge it.

By the time the doors open all the way, you're both mostly presentable. He's ushered out of the elevator by a group of his friends and family, led by his manager. You watch as they fuss over him and he makes eye contact with you through the crowd.

He'd give almost anything to be back in that elevator with you to finish what he started. But more than that, he already misses the feeling of companionship. The heavy weight of loneliness is starting to settle in his chest again. He looks down and back up and you're gone.

******

You wipe the tears from your face as you make your way back to your car outside the hotel. If only the doors hadn't opened. What might've happened? Oh well. You'll never know. It's up to him now.

******

Elvis manages to keep it together long enough to assure everyone he's fine, do the wardrobe check, and get back to his hotel. He stands in front of the elevator when it opens and seriously considers taking the stairs to the penthouse. But he doesn't. Instead he steps onto the elevator and slides his hands in his pockets as the doors close.

He gasps softly.

Out of his pocket he pulls a small silver bracelet. It's not his. It must be yours. You must've slipped it into his pocket while you put yourselves back together when the doors opened. He turns over the little silver pendant and finds your first and last name in script.

He smiles widely and kisses the bracelet. Looking up, he whispers.

"Thank you."

He's not sure if he's talking to you or God. Maybe both. Either way, now he can find you. He steps off the elevator and heads into his bedroom.

The pieces of his heart start to come back together and he sets your bracelet on his nightstand.

Tomorrow. He'll find you tomorrow.

******

The End?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[hotvintagepoll]

hotvintagepoll Hot Men Tournament rundown thoughts

I promised a final recap post and here it is! I'll try to cover the questions I saw the most as we closed out the bracket, reveal my ✨secret faves✨, and talk about the biggest surprises and turnarounds I saw in the brackets.

Yes, this will get silly.

ROUND 1

As I've mentioned before, I worked off submissions for who to include in the bracket, so if your fave was missing—that's why. I used submitted pics when I could, but many submissions didn't have one, so I tried to find decent ones in the couple of days I had to prep the first round (I didn't always succeed). By decent, I mean pics where 1) I could see the hot man's face, so not too much moody lighting, and 2) hopefully conveyed something about his vibe, even if it was a funny thing (yes, I showed Howard Keel in full Shakespeare get-up—I'm not beyond putting up a pic because I think it's funny). I didn't know all of these hotties going in, so some I had to guess with, but when I could I tried to pick shots that had a touch of the humor, class, or genre of the hot man.

For Round 1 and Round 2, I grouped the hotties by each decade, so only '60s actors ran against '60s actors, '50s against '50s, etc. Male beauty standards shifted pretty dramatically over the sixty years this tournament covers, and I didn't think it was fair to pit dramatically different styles of beauty against each other immediately.

I pitted hot men against each other based on opposing energies—hot vs cold, elegant vs rough, comedy vs drama, etc.. I wanted the polls to be interesting and I've never liked brackets where everyone is clearly in different "lanes" until the finals! I also wanted to make polls where I couldn't tell which way they would swing, so by setting matchups that felt opposite but equal, I got to be surprised by the bracket results too.

The only reason we had any three-way matchups is because the amount of men submitted didn't round to a nice bracket number. I don't like them generally and find them really hard to balance.

Secret faves from Round 1—I am a James Coburn girlie and knew he would die immediately, so that was not a shock but a bummer. I similarly knew Robert Preston is only magical to people who have seen him do His Little Dance Routines in That One Iowa Musical, but it would have been nice for him to last longer.

Surprises—Jeremy Brett was a last-minute add and I didn't think he really had a shot, so I put him in as a third wheel on the Sean Connery/Dean Martin matchup. Little did I count on the Granada girlies. (Always count on the Granada girlies.) The Elvis/Peter Falk poll was the first one to gain any momentum—Elvis was winning for the first 24 hours but then, my god, did Peter fight back. I didn't expect the Tab/Toshiro poll to make that bad a mincemeat out of Tab—people have different tastes, and I thought the people who like blonde sunny All American white boys might turn out for The Blonde Sunny All American White Boy. Sorry, Tab. I hope you've peeled yourself off the sidewalk by now. And, of course, I was SHOCKED and APPALLED that James Cagney would be obliterated by, of all people, Mr. Bing Crosby.

SHADOW BRACKET

The fervor of the Harold Lloyd and Fredric March people inspired the shadow bracket, and I couldn't be happier at the way it's gone. You were right, the original photos I had for them did suck. Cunty Harold Lloyd in his little life guard uniform was a revelation.

ROUND 2

For Round 2 I'd gotten a better sense of who was doing well and who was not, so a little of that came into play, but I mostly paired on vibes again. (I genuinely think this is a good way to make a fun, challenging bracket.)

Secret faves—Noooo not hot dilf Dick Van Dyke don't take my hot inventor dilf away uwu!!! (He was up against Marlon Brando. I would have been shocked if he'd won but for a minute there, a glorious second, it was possible.) I am also a big old softie for David Niven's particular brand of repression to the point of volcanic rupture, but he is one of many hotties who does not look good without moving and speaking so I figured he would be going.

So much beef—hey! hey you. I ran a poll asking if we are horny for dancers. Yes, was the resounding poll response. Where, then, did all the fucking dancers go? This round we lost Donald O'Connor, Fred Astaire, Harold Nicholas; Sammy Davis Jr., Danny Kaye, Frank Sinatra, and Bing Crosby all sneak into this category as well, by token of having been in the kind of big MGM bang-a-pan-and-put-on-a-show beloved bedlams we all watch at Christmastime. Round 2 voters HATED musical matchups. Except for one.

The one—SOUND OF MUSIC, the voters said, WE LOVE SOUND OF MUSIC. we will KILL the man responsible for salad dressing because of the SOUND OF MUSIC. every other dance man can die but THIS man dances a FOLK DANCE with JULIE ANDREWS in a GARDEN. I did not go into this poll with strong opinions about Christopher Plummer or Paul Newman but my god did I leave having heard all of them.

Surprises—James Edwards/Anthony Perkins matchup was a nail biter! Conrad vs Oscar kept me up at nights. Surprised to see Basil Rathbone survive against Sabu Dastagir—both very fetching, but Sabu had some top-tier propaganda. Cesar Romero put up a surprisingly stiff fight against Cary Grant (an omen for things to come).

Oh horrors—horror heroes surprisingly fell all over the place. I was sure either Bela Lugosi or Turhan Bey would sweep their three-way matchup, but Michael Redgrave of all people carried through; Boris Karloff went down against Johnny Weismuller (while holding hands with fellow fallen hottie Fred Astaire), but at least we got his guacamole recipe before he went. Delighted to see that the Venn diagram of the coalitions who support horror hero Vincent Price and funny lil guy Donald O'Connor is a circle.

Secret faves pt 2—oh yeah, I fucking love Danny Kaye and Donald O'Connor. RIP funny lil kings.

ROUND 3

For some reason this was the hardest one to make matchups for. Oh no, all the men are hot.

Secret faves—Michael Redgrave i love you SO much you're SUCH an idiot, how did you make it as far as round 3. I want you to sweep the whole thing but you should NOT be surviving this. I love you, here's a kiss, go home.

Surprises—Marlon Brando is gone! Errol Flynn is gone! Christopher Plummer exhausted himself beating the organic oreos man to death and goes out with a whimper. Beginning to actually see the roots of #mifunesweep as Tyrone Power, a hot man very different from Burt Lancaster, who was in turn very different from Tab Hunter, also gets swept under the wheels of the unbeatable toshirobus. Conrad Veidt finds that no amount of purring svelte eccentricity compares to the people who will fuck a young Lt. Columbo.

SHADOW BRACKET 2

Cannot believe it but Veidt loses this one too. Perkins sweeps and becomes Prince of the Shadow Realm!

ROUND 4

At this point I've set a formal bracket that I'm following.

Secret faves—this isn't secret anymore, but losing Jimmy Stewart hurt.

Surprises—The Gene Kelly/Jeremy Brett matchup was the diciest one all round, moving back and forth between the two by sometimes .01%. Far more surprising, however, was Cary Grant getting eliminated before the quarterfinals. Grant has never been my type, but he is famous for being THE type, so while the writing had been on the wall the whole tournament—how on earth did Michael Redgrave even get 36% in his matchup?!—seeing Grant go down was a SHOCKER. Other fallen hotties included Gregory Peck, James Dean, Harry Belafonte, and Sessue Hayakawa. Peter Falk finally met his match in Omar Sharif.

QUARTERFINALS

Secret faves—I don't know if it counts as a secret fave, tbh, as my horses in the race really went out with Stewart, but I do have a soft spot here worth mentioning. Here's my childhood dog, Keaton.

The resemblance is truly striking, and yes, he was short, fast, and not prone to smiling.

Surprises—I couldn't predict how any of these matchups would go down, but I was most interested in Keaton vs Sharif, as they are both SO hot in SUCH different ways.

SEMIFINALS:

This was such a good batch of semifinalist contestants. By this point I think we could all tell Mifune was unstoppable (though I thought Sharif might give him a run for his money), but I really didn't know which way Robeson vs Poitier would flip.

FINALS:

I wanted Sidney Poitier to pull a last-minute sweep out of nowhere, but alas, Toshiro is just THAT GOOD (maybe. I will admit that I find Toshiro's domination a little hard to believe, given the variety and hotness of all his competitors; the man is hot but all these men are hot). I'm still happy with how the tournament went.

FINAL MEDITATIONS:

Biggest shock of a dropout: the loss of Paul Newman

Biggest "you people have no taste": the loss of James Cagney

Biggest victory: Paul Robeson making it to the semifinals over often-assumed champion Gregory Peck

Biggest coalition who deserve justice: dancing men

Biggest ask character: vents anon (currently eating Laurence Olivier)

Biggest, uhh, anything: how many of you are here! I genuinely thought it would be me and 10 other people voting for the whole tournament. I'm thrilled it took off like this!

I think that's everything, but I'm happy to answer addl asks. And THANK YOU to everyone for your tags, rants, impassioned propaganda, beautiful pics, and love for the hot men! See you for the ladies!

[eee-lordy]

Hiiii! Can you write about jacob elordi x fem reader who is in charge of the makeup and outfits on saltburn or elvis?

Maybe there is a video going viral where he is looking at her (WITH THOSE PUPPY DOG EYES HAHSHAJDVDSJ IM GONNA EAT HIM) while she is doing his make up and she is clueless, yk those videos where the music is lana del rey and the caption is like "me when im literaly obsessed with her" or "when hes completely in love with u>>>>>"

And when that goes viral, the cast teases him and they go on a date?

Idk i think its cute :3

───※ ·❆· ※───

You were never one to get star struck. In the year and a half you'd been professionally applying makeup to the mugs of many stars, you'd been unfazed by celebrities captivating auras. You hardly blushed when Chris Pine tried asking you out as he sat in your makeup chair. You'd laughed in understandable assurance as Billie Eilish apologized for almost knocking your powder kit from your grasp; when her brother burst in the room to surprise her. You saw your clients as just that, people who trusted you to properly apply blush and fake scars.

But all the composure you'd been proud to claim went out the window when you'd been assigned to work with the cast of Sofia Coppola new film. You hadn't expected to lose your cool. In fact, you'd been rolling your eyes as the hair stylist that shared your caravan had droned on and on about this new Elordi fellow and how dreamy he was. Some of the other workers in the hair and makeup department parroted her yearning for the guy. But you were certain you'd remain calm and cool in this supposed deities presence.

And then he sat down in your chair. And he looked up to you with an intriguing set of droopy dark eyes. And you knew Jacob Elordi was about to be a real problem for you.

It wasn't his fame. You weren't swept up by his essence because of the collective crowd on the internet drooling over the guy. It wasn't even his magnetism. Because he did have a lot of that, you wavered it was necessary to survive fame. But it was more the way he would look up at you from that make up chair. With those dumb stupid big beautiful eyes.  And his smile that followed. And then the infuriating way he'd start conversations with you, those first few days on set.

"What'd you have for breakfast this morning?" Jacob would wonder, watching as you readied a sponge. You would answer and ask for his in return. He would mention stopping by a cafe earlier and go on to ask you where you grew up and if you liked it there and what the best book you've ever read was called. 

"You've got to stop chatting away, makes it hard to do your touch up's." You'd smile, reaching out to adjust Jacobs perfect fucking face so you could work on his brows. 

"Sorry." He breathed out, seemingly genuinely guilty. He went on explaining himself still, slowly as you continued to do your job. "Don't like awkward silence. Or bullshit small talk. Getting to know you seemed like the safest route. Since you'll be covering the dark circles under my eye's this whole shoot."

You laughed in understanding before announcing that you got it, and waved over the hairdresser on site today. 

"Wait, before you go, that book you mentioned..." Jacob pointed your way as you turned for closing up your kit of brushes. Then you watched as the guy wrestled his cellphone from his jacket pocket. "Here," Jacob said, extending the device your way. "Write the title in my notes app. I will forget, but I don't want too. It sounded properly readable."

"Oh." You turned your lips down in a twisted grin of surprise. As you took the device from Jacob's grasp, you felt a surge of gratification that the guy trusted you enough with his phone let alone wanted to read a book you mention not having read since uni. 

Not missing the way the hairdresser rolled her eyes, you grinned and found Jacobs notes app with ease, straining not to glance beyond your means. With the press of a few buttons you wrote down the title, and fought off the impulsive urge to include your very own phone number as well. That would be embarrassing, knowing full well this man would never call or text or probably even dare to glance your way beyond the makeup chair. 

///

The next few weeks went by the same. Jacob would yammer away until you almost had to hold his mouth shut to finish his makeup. And you would fill the silence by telling stories of your own, because he'd mentioned he wasn't fond of silence and you knew your job went beyond applying lip liner, it was also to keep celebrities happy as royalty.

And all the while you blinked away thoughts of how funny he was. How beautiful Jacob was. You wouldn't let yourself realize he was exactly your type. You wouldn't let yourself dream that you might be his. You simply relished the times you made him laugh. Once you made him laugh so hard he cried, tear tracks ruining the powder you'd only just applied. 

The hairdresser who was the leader of fawning over Jacob as soon as he left the room had taken to frowning in your direction most days. You reckoned it was because she'd never been able to make him laugh that hard, or at all, ever. And the stories she told him when he asked her to seemed to lose his interest halfway through every time. Try as Jacob might, you saw his eyes glaze over as the hairstylist droned on about her retirement plan or the grocery list she'd put together that day.

After acknowledging her sorry excuse for conversation Jacob would stop you from packing up and heading to lunch so he could ask you for more books to read, more films to watch, more stories from you. Then his assistant would interrupt, or he'd be called to set and you'd be left to head to the craft table with dangerous feelings of lust and intrigue to push away. You would not let this boy break you of your career long streak of professionalism, damn it.

///

One night, in the middle of a week break from set, you spent an evening scrolling mindlessly. When a tiktok with Jacob's name in the tags popped up, you scrolled away at the speed of light. You didn't let yourself linger too long on posts with him there, not wanting to know anything good bad or otherwise so long as you were assigned to work with him on this project. But it wasn't long before another tiktok popped up featuring the guy in a very familiar setting. He was too famous at this point. You watched as you saw leaked footage from behind the scenes of Priscilla, but weren't too shocked. The stars of the film were occasionally being interviewed by publicists between takes to document their experience, beginning to promote the film.

And maybe you let yourself keep watching out of a sense of entitlement, you'd been working on this set. You could watch a video of Jacob from work, right? You couldn't tear your eyes from him no matter how hard you tried now anyway. You watched as the person holding the camera zoomed in on the guy while he adjusted his suit jacket. You watched as he seemed to talk to the costars at his side. You watched as he looked up and smiled. And you couldn't help but melt a little at the sight, he seemed so happy, so at ease. And then you watched as Jacob's grin widened as he waved someone closer. And much to your horror, you saw yourself step into frame. 

You remembered that day, where you waited on the side lines to fix Cailee's eyeliner. While the director was storming up a new camera angle, Jacob waved you over to mention the last chapter of your favorite book he'd almost finished reading. He was laughing over a bit that you'd warned him about the week before. And you were laughing over how excited he was about it, finally having someone to gush over your favorite plot with.

Now, huddled beneath the blankets of your bed, you slammed your phone down at your side, bewildered to know someone had caught your interaction on camera. Raddled to have just seen Jacob lighting up at the sight of you. Angry at yourself for hopping you'd read his body language in a way that suggested he really liked you that much.

When you picked your phone back up, you watched the candid moment over and over, trying to debunk Jacob's smile. Trying to convince yourself he was only being friendly, only cared because he had to find someone to mingle with during down beats. 

And then you read the comments. 

"If Jacob smiled at me like that, I would die."

"Imagine making him laugh like that she's so lucky."

"Who is she??" One comment read. "Her last name will be Elordi if he hasn't married her already, calling it." Someone replied.

You shouldn't have read the comments.

///

When you were due back on set you swallowed away the excitement bubbling up in you at the prospect of seeing Jacob again. This was so unlike you, to be awaiting the arrival of your client with an embarrassing giddiness. As you reminded yourself that this was your job and Jacob was simply a guest in your makeup chair- the man himself eased into the caravan, ready to get ready for the day.

"Hey, you! I had a bunch of points earned up to get two free coffees so I brought you one. I remember you said you like almond milk so I asked for that." Jacob was all smiles as he extended a latte to you. Awe fuck. 

"Thank you, Jacob." You struggled not to sigh with angst as you accepted his very generous surprise. Luckily, he seemed none the wiser that you'd answered through gritted teeth. He just kept smiling as he headed to your chair.

"Oh, me first today lovie. Need to start your dye straight off, you're little makeup girlfriend will have to wait." The hairdresser announced, daring to grab Jacob by his sleeve, yanking him toward her end of the trailer. The other workers around rolled their eyes, sick of her endless commentary. You bit your tongue as you leaned against the counter, shaking your head when a coworker scoffed in the hairdresser's direction. Luckily, Cailee waltz in, ready for you before anyone else. You thanked God for the distraction, readying your brow pencil and chatted to the girl about her break from set. 

All the while, your least favorite coworkers voice demanded to be the loudest in the room. She made everyone listen to some boring ass story and practically whinnied when Jacob got up to trade Cailee places. 

"No offence, you're fine and all, just don't have hair as silky smooth as Jacob's." The hairdresser told Cailee but made sure her comment was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Oh wait, silly me," 

As Jacob settled in the makeup chair and began to ask if the drink he'd brought you was good, the hairdresser of your nightmares shoved her way between you and the person you were meant to be working on. 

"I left of a bobby pin, how'd I forget," She droned in an annoying pitch, nearly shoving you over in her attempt to get closer to Jacob. 

"Can you please get out of my space?" You called, annoyed that she was pushing you away from your station without a single polite excuse.

"Can you please stop being such a jealous bitch?" The hairdresser whipped to face you with a manic smile.

"Oh my God?" You almost laughed in shock at her comment when another coworker dared to reach out and pulled her away, and out of the trailer. Another hairdresser apologized to the room for the previous girl's behavior and stepped up to lead charge of Cailee's wig.

With no time to shake the rage that had been born in you, you pushed it down, biting your lip hard as you went about finding the right sponge for Jacob's foundation. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, seemingly worried. And that pissed you off too. Why'd he have to act like he cared so much? Why'd he have to be so damn wonderful?

"I'm fine. Thank you again for the coffee, it...is kind of bitter but it was a really sweet gesture, I swear. Close your eye's please." You responded as calm and cool as possible.

"Bitter... sweet..." Jacob winked, just for you to see. It was the best thing you'd ever witness. And the worst all the same. You were sure you blushed. You tilted his chin and struggling to suppress how much you'd miss when you didn't get to be this close to him. He stayed quiet as you finished his face, and so did you. When his makeup was done, almost everyone else had left the trailer. The last remaining beautician was walking out as you'd closed the case to your kit. 

"I thought you didn't like awkward silence." You dared to mention, as Jacob stood to leave. It wasn't like you'd thought to ask. It was just a thought that ended up blurted out. And then you were bold enough still to look up and right at the guy with those perfectly shaped eyes to find he'd already been staring right at you. 

"S'not so awkward with you."

You really wish he hadn't said that. You really wished you'd never prompted him too. You really wished he wasn't still standing there looking across the features of your face like he was waiting on you to respond. There was a knock on the door just in time, and a voice calling for Jacob to hurry to set. 

"I'll see you after lunch, right?" Jacob wondered as he moved toward the door. You muttered something like "Yeah sure," as you turned to start collecting your things. As far as Jacob knew you were headed to the craft table. But as your feet started marching out of the trailer, you found yourself headed toward the manager of the crew you'd been hired in with. You explained to her that you really thought it was best you turned in your resignation. 

You'd never dared yourself to tread the line during work. Never been so enamored with someone you were meant to be professional with. It wasn't in your best interest to see how far this went. And it wasn't in Jacobs best interest that you kept lingering around distracting him with stories and novel suggestions.

So, on a decided whim, you packed your things, swallowed frustrated tears, and headed home for good.

///

You let yourself be mad once your front door was shut and locked. You threw away the stupid coffee Jacob bought you. You turned the telly off and tossed the remote toward the hardwood when Euphoria came on. You muttered and cursed and slammed cabinets as you made a carb heavy comfort meal and called your best friend. 

The day went on and turned to night as you tried to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You began getting ready for bed, talking yourself into sleeping off all the weird feelings and events that had transpired today. Tomorrow, you'd find a new job and make sure to decline any with that one awful hairdressers name on the list of beauticians. 

As you sat on the edge of your bed and set a reminder for yourself to job hunt tomorrow afternoon, a notification interrupted your typing. 

Instagram was alerting you that one certain Jacob Elordi was sending you a fucking message. He'd followed you a couple weeks ago, when you handed him your phone to show him a picture of your beloved childhood pet. He scrolled away from it and found your handle to promptly pull up on his very own Instagram, following you with a smile.

Your eyes widened and your thumb worked faster than your brain, clicking the popup before you could talk yourself out of it. Oh, shit now he was going to know you opened his fucking stupid ass message. You really wished you hadn't met this boy. He wasn't even here and he was torturing your every thought. 

"You were NOT there after lunch as promised. Call me? xx"

Before your eyes displayed a row of numbers that if pressed would call Jacob Elordi's cell phone. You tried really hard to talk yourself out of it. But being away from him for the last ten hours had really done a number on your heart. It missed him more than your brain was afraid to admit. Your thumb clicked the numbers. Your phone started to ring. 

After one buzz he answered. 

"I got off set to hear you'd quit and left me to bear that horrid hairdresser without you? Was the coffee really that bad?" Jacob's voice crackled through the line, soft and saccharine. You chuckled morosely at his coffee joke before responding.

"No pleasant greeting. What if it wasn't me calling? What if it was some crazy fan girl?" You dared to venture. 

"Are you saying you're not a fan of mine?"

You wanted to assure him that you were probably his biggest, but sighed in place of a response, struggling to choose your words. 

"What happened? That hairdresser should be fired. You shouldn't've left." Jacob spoke, as you watched the traffic out your window and relished the sound of his voice in your ear. 

"It..." You couldn't help it. You couldn't hide it any longer. "It wasn't really her. I quit because of you, Jacob."

"Me? I- I'm sorry I thought we-" He sounded too worried, and you realized you'd spoken a little too cryptically.

"Not because you did anything wrong." You hurried to explain, interrupting his unnecessary apology. "It's me, not you." 

"Is this a break up? I never even got to ask you on a proper date." He laughed a humorless laugh.

"That's the thing." You said. "I like you way more than I should've ever let myself. It's too unprofessional for me to work with you and have these feelings. I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be telling you this. Everyone treats you like a piece of meat, I hate that I-"

"So... what I'm hearing..." Jacob's voice rose a bit as he interrupted you, catching your attention off guard. "Is that I can actually ask you on a proper date? And this doesn't have to be a break up at all."

"Oh! I- wait are you joking?" You blurted, shocked by the tone of his voice and the fact that it seemed like Jacob Elordi was asking you out. 

"I like you too, dummy. I've been doing my damnedest to make that clear. You know I don't just follow every wardrobe artist on Instagram and bring camera men cafe treats. I used my free coffee on you! I'm so sorry it was no good though." 

"It wasn't the worst coffee ever." You smiled, feeling a calm and hopeful buzz wash over you. 

"Well, let me take you on a proper date, for a proper cup of coffee, and talk you back on set." 

"I can date you, or be your makeup artist, but I will not allow myself to do both. I have a very strict moral compass as a working lady." 

"I'll choose the first option then by a long shot." You could hear Jacob's smile in the tone of his voice. You let him ramble a little longer about the day he'd had and how bad he felt that you'd been moved to quit. He asked you to meet him at the cafe across from the set during lunch tomorrow, and you promised you would in fact show up without a doubt this time. 

Fuck finding a new job tomorrow. You were going on an absolute dream date with Jacob. But you were most definitely ordering your own coffee.

[rebelliousstories]

In Your Arms Is What I’m Cravin’

Relationship: Benny Cross x Reader

Fandom: The Bikeriders

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Suggestive Themes, Brief Strong Language

Word Count: 981

Main Masterlist: Here

Austin Butler Masterlist: Here

Summary: Returning to his house and loving that it feels like home.

The low rumble of a bike was heard all up and down the street as Benny pulled back into the driveway. He had spent the better part of the day riding out on the open road wherever it took him. Those solo rides were special to Benny. Of course, he loved taking his old lady out with him; the feeling of her arms tightening around him and her laughter in the wind. But the times where he gets to ride by himself and clear his head? Those were very much needed from time to time.

Benny made his way up the stairs and dug out his keys. Taking one last drag from his cigarette, he flicked the butt of the stick off into a bush as he opened the door. Inside, the air was still. Nothing was out of place. Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be, right down to the room spray of flowers that she insisted on.

“Baby? Hello?” She yelled through the house as he started crossing off rooms. The living room was definitely empty, as was the kitchen. There were muffled footsteps coming from the back part of the house, and then a squeal.

“Benny! You’re home, baby!” A body slammed into his as he tried to get his bearings. Wrapping an arm around her back, and another under her butt, he held her close.

“Hey, my little lady. I missed you.” Benny buried his nose into the crook of her neck, and breathed in deep.

“Oh, I missed you more. Did you have a good ride?” She asked, pulling away enough to see his face. Benny’s eyes were tired, but retained a bit of light in them as he scanned over her face.

“I did. Did you have a good day at home?” She nodded before leaning in and planting a kiss on his lips. Both sets of eyes slipped shut, and he maneuvered them over to the couch in the living room. Sitting down blindly, Benny let himself get wrapped up in the soft touches of his lover as she kept kissing him.

“What’d you do?” Benny asked, pulling away with a raspy voice.

“Well, I went and got my nails done in that rosy color you love on me so much.” Said nails scratched through the base of his scalp and through his hair. Benny groaned and leaned his head back into her hands.

“Then I went to go watch that new Elvis feature in town called ‘Tickle Me’. You know, you kinda look like Elvis a bit.” The look that the man shot her was enough to send her into a fit of giggles. She was nearly bumped off of his lap because of how hard she was laughing.

“Now why would you ever think that, little lady? Ain’t got no black hair or eye black on.” Benny countered, readjusting the woman so she was sitting more comfortably across his legs. She looked like she was thinking intently which is when Benny put a finger to her lips.

“And no. You ain’t allowed to put any on me.”

Her lips pouted around his fingers, which made him smile. Pulling the appendage away, he quickly replaced it with his own lips once more. Both of them melted into the kiss. For several minutes, the couple just existed together. Almost as if they were one body; they did not know where one began and the other ended. Benny, reluctantly, pulled away as she tried to chase his lips.

“We should probably go to bed. But I wouldn’t mind continuing this in the bedroom because I have missed this.” His hands ran over her waist and thighs as they caught their breath. She nodded, and tried to untangle her body from his. But Benny was having none of that. He simply scooped her up in his arms, and stalked up the stairs to their bedroom.

Her giggle prompted a small smile to come across the man’s face. It was not often that he allowed himself to be soft. But there was just something about her that caused him to melt on the inside. Dropping his girlfriend on the cushioned bed beneath, Benny spent a good minute just tracing his eyes over her body. These were the times that they both cherished. When it was just them, late at night, and not a worry or care on the mind. These were the times that gave them hope on those rough days. These were the times that kept them coming home to the other.

“Whatcha thinking about, Benny boy?” She teased, running her fingertips over his face while he still stood over her.

“Just how lucky I am that you put up with me and all the shit I get into.” He murmured, with his voice just above a whisper.

“We’ll come to bed, baby. You must be tired after riding all day. I’m feelin’ awfully lonely without you under here.” Pulling back the covers, she wasted no time in getting comfortable. Benny chuckled, and went to go get out of his outside clothes before hoping into bed. However, the feeling of her eyes on his body made him slow down and put on a little show as he stripped out of his clothing.

They both knew that nothing was going to happen as they were both far too tired, but there was nothing wrong about admiring each other. Benny stayed in his white undershirt and boxers as he crawled into bed. Opening his arms, she launched herself into them again and sighed deeply. Sticking her nose into the crook of his neck, she inhaled the wonderful scent that was her Benny Cross. It only took a few minutes for them both to drift off into their dreams, but they were content to be snuggled up in each other’s arms. This was exactly what they needed. The low rumble of a bike was heard all up and down the street as Benny pulled back into the driveway. He had spent the better part of the day riding out on the open road wherever it took him. Those solo rides were special to Benny. Of course, he loved taking his old lady out with him; the feeling of her arms tightening around him and her laughter in the wind. But the times where he gets to ride by himself and clear his head? Those were very much needed from time to time.

Benny made his way up the stairs and dug out his keys. Taking one last drag from his cigarette, he flicked the butt of the stick off into a bush as he opened the door. Inside, the air was still. Nothing was out of place. Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be, right down to the room spray of flowers that she insisted on.

“Baby? Hello?” She yelled through the house as he started crossing off rooms. The living room was definitely empty, as was the kitchen. There were muffled footsteps coming from the back part of the house, and then a squeal.

“Benny! You’re home, baby!” A body slammed into his as he tried to get his bearings. Wrapping an arm around her back, and another under her butt, he held her close.

“Hey, my little lady. I missed you.” Benny buried his nose into the crook of her neck, and breathed in deep.

“Oh, I missed you more. Did you have a good ride?” She asked, pulling away enough to see his face. Benny’s eyes were tired, but retained a bit of light in them as he scanned over her face.

“I did. Did you have a good day at home?” She nodded before leaning in and planting a kiss on his lips. Both sets of eyes slipped shut, and he maneuvered them over to the couch in the living room. Sitting down blindly, Benny let himself get wrapped up in the soft touches of his lover as she kept kissing him.

“What’d you do?” Benny asked, pulling away with a raspy voice.

“Well, I went and got my nails done in that rosy color you love on me so much.” Said nails scratched through the base of his scalp and through his hair. Benny groaned and leaned his head back into her hands.

“Then I went to go watch that new Elvis feature in town called ‘Tickle Me’. You know, you kinda look like Elvis a bit.” The look that the man shot her was enough to send her into a fit of giggles. She was nearly bumped off of his lap because of how hard she was laughing.

“Now why would you ever think that, little lady? Ain’t got no black hair or eye black on.” Benny countered, readjusting the woman so she was sitting more comfortably across his legs. She looked like she was thinking intently which is when Benny put a finger to her lips.

“And no. You ain’t allowed to put any on me.”

Her lips pouted around his fingers, which made him smile. Pulling the appendage away, he quickly replaced it with his own lips once more. Both of them melted into the kiss. For several minutes, the couple just existed together. Almost as if they were one body; they did not know where one began and the other ended. Benny, reluctantly, pulled away as she tried to chase his lips.

“We should probably go to bed. But I wouldn’t mind continuing this in the bedroom because I have missed this.” His hands ran over her waist and thighs as they caught their breath. She nodded, and tried to untangle her body from his. But Benny was having none of that. He simply scooped her up in his arms, and stalked up the stairs to their bedroom.

Her giggle prompted a small smile to come across the man’s face. It was not often that he allowed himself to be soft. But there was just something about her that caused him to melt on the inside. Dropping his girlfriend on the cushioned bed beneath, Benny spent a good minute just tracing his eyes over her body. These were the times that they both cherished. When it was just them, late at night, and not a worry or care on the mind. These were the times that gave them hope on those rough days. These were the times that kept them coming home to the other.

“Whatcha thinking about, Benny boy?” She teased, running her fingertips over his face while he still stood over her.

“Just how lucky I am that you put up with me and all the shit I get into.” He murmured, with his voice just above a whisper.

“We’ll come to bed, baby. You must be tired after riding all day. I’m feelin’ awfully lonely without you under here.” Pulling back the covers, she wasted no time in getting comfortable. Benny chuckled, and went to go get out of his outside clothes before hoping into bed. However, the feeling of her eyes on his body made him slow down and put on a little show as he stripped out of his clothing.

They both knew that nothing was going to happen as they were both far too tired, but there was nothing wrong about admiring each other. Benny stayed in his white undershirt and boxers as he crawled into bed. Opening his arms, she launched herself into them again and sighed deeply. Sticking her nose into the crook of his neck, she inhaled the wonderful scent that was her Benny Cross. It only took a few minutes for them both to drift off into their dreams, but they were content to be snuggled up in each other’s arms. This was exactly what they needed.

[lustnhim]

‘ yungen. ‘ — stepdad! elvis x fem! reader

note: request + dead-dove / warnings: MDNI, dub-con, age gap, perv elvis, strained relationship with mother, elvis coerces reader, innocence kink, fingering, oral f-receiving, spitting, breeding, argument (with mom), car sex, daddy in a sexual context, kind of pwp but i tried to have a storyline (it ended up making no sense im so sorry.) / summary: after an argument with your mother, your stepdad, elvis, takes you out on a drive for some one on one time.

Sitting in the kitchen you desperately tried to ignore your mother who was complaining about every small thing in the world. “You never help around the house!” “You’re so lazy!” “Look at the clothes you’re wearing? You should be ashamed!” Any small thing she could pick at you for, she would. You flipped through the pages of your book, finding it impossible to drown out her voice. “You don’t listen either!” She yelled, smacking the book out of your hands causing you to jump. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You shouted, causing your mother to gasp. “You will not use that kind of language in my house.” She shouted, pointing her finger in your face. Standing up the chair screeched against the floor, “I wish for once you’d just leave me alone!” You yelled and heard footsteps approach the corner. “What the hell is goin’ on?” You and your mother both looked over, your stepdad, Elvis was standing in the door frame, his brow furrowed and his expression both confused and infuriated. “She won’t do a single thing I say! She just sits around all day and refuses to help me around the house!” Your mother yelled, “That just is not true whatsoever! She asks me to do stuff and I do it- but she’s never satisfied! Either I did it wrong or I should’ve done it this way, trying to please her is impossible.” You yelled back and Elvis shook his head. “Both of you need ta’ just shut up. This is childish.” He said, obviously aggravated with the situation. Walking towards your mother he placed his hands on her shoulders gently and kissed her on the forehead. “You need to calm down. She’s a teenager, she’s gonna rebel n’ do things you don’t like. It’s okay.” He said, his tone soft and sweet, you watched as your mom’s demeanor instantly shifted, she melted like putty in his hands. It made you sick. He turned back to you, his eyes softening slightly, "Why don't we take a little drive, just you and me? Get some fresh air and cool off. It'll do us both some good." The mention of leaving the house, even for a moment, had you nodding eagerly. You watched as your mother shot you a look as the two of you walked out. 

Getting into his car you buckled your seat belt and made sure your gaze was fixated out the window. The two of you weren’t very close, they had married about 7 months ago and you kept to yourself most of the time anyways. The car purred to life, and he pulled out of the driveway, the tires crunching on the gravel as he navigated down the road. The silence grew thick, but after a few minutes, he broke it. "Look, I know things haven't been easy since I came into the picture, but I care about the both of ya’. We need to work on our communication, okay?" Elvis said, turning to look at you for a moment before continuing down the road. ‘It’s just…hard.” Seemed to be all you could muster. “Listen yungen, I- I love your mama but she’s…she’s a jealous woman.” Elvis added, making you look at him with confusion. “What do you mean?” You asked, and Elvis took a deep breath not taking his eyes off the road. “She…she don’t really like me spendin’ too much time with you…alone, I mean.” He said, taking a back road. You scoffed and shook your head, “Are you serious?” You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, she was jealous of her own daughter. “Why?” You followed up with as Elvis pulled into a small overlook, the sun had already begun to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and blue. Elvis looked over at you and you couldn’t help how he looked…pained. “It’s…hard to explain..” He said, taking a deep breath. Elvis hesitated, clearly struggling to find the right words. "Your mother and I, we had our issues even before I met you. And well, when I first met you, she felt threatened. She thought I'd pay more attention to you, and that we'd grow closer, which, well, we are." He finally admitted, his eyes never leaving your face. "And it's not just that, she has her insecurities. She thinks that I'll eventually choose you over her." You looked at him in awe. ‘Choose you over her’ replayed in your head over and over. You were zoned out when you felt his hand on your knee, resting gently. You looked up at him and scanned his face, trying to understand how he was feeling. “Sometimes…I feel like I made a mistake.” Elvis added, his hand rubbing your knee gently. You couldn't speak, any words you tried to muster were caught in your throat.

“You should…you should do what makes you happy.” You finally said, not wanting Elvis to leave your mother or anything- but you didn’t know what else to say. You watched as his hand snaked up your thigh and your breath was caught in your throat. “E-Elvis..” You muttered as he stopped at the bottom of your shorts. "Don’t worry yungen…" He whispered, his voice low and smooth. His fingers trailed between your legs feeling the fabric of your shorts, brushing against your them, and you immediately tensed, unsure of how to react. “You jus’ make me feel so happy…” Elvis said, his fingers moving up and down gently. You looked at him, god. This was so messed up. You knew that this was exactly what your mother thought would happen, and you knew that secretly you had hoped for it to happen. Laying in bed when it was all quiet at night, you’d think about him all while trying to fight the urge to touch yourself out of shame. Your hand gripped the side of the leather seat of the car, as his fingers worked over your shorts. “Can ya climb in the backseat?” Elvis whispered, moving his fingers off of you and you quickly climbed to the back of the car. Elvis chuckled softly as you threw yourself onto the backseat. Elvis stepped out of the car and opened the door and got in. Now with more room Elvis placed a hand on your chest, softly squeezing your breasts before moving his other  hand up to your face, cupping your cheek he pulled you into a kiss. His tongue pushed into your mouth as his hands worked their way up your shirt. He groaned into the kiss as you lay against the car door slowly sliding your shirt upwards. As he reached your bra, he unclasped it, letting your breasts spring free. Groping you he pulled away from the kiss, admiring your breasts. He stared hungrily at them for a moment before bending down to take one into his mouth. Before you could protest his lips latched around your nipple causing you to let out a small gasp. The sight was ungodly. The feeling was so strange but it felt so, so good. You arched your back as pleasure coursed through you, his lips and tongue expertly working against your nipple. When he released it, he switched to the other breast, making you squirm. “C’mon..” You groaned, running your hand through his hair. Elvis pulled away and smiled up at you, “You look so pretty..” He cooed, working off your shorts. Running a finger along the damp spot on your panties you whimpered, embarrassment wracking your entire body. You couldn’t shake off how wrong this was, a part of you wanted to tell him to stop- but you couldn't, your brain was getting all foggy… the pleasure overtaking you almost completely. Pulling your panties off Elvis chuckled gently.

"Looks like someone needs some attention," he whispered, before dipping his head to start kissing along your inner thighs. He spread your legs wider, giving himself better access to your core. He breathed in deeply, savoring your scent, before flicking his tongue across your clit. You gasped and grabbed onto the seat, your head thrown back as Elvis continued to tease you. His tongue swirled around your sensitive bud, sending shivers throughout your body. You could hardly breathe, the pleasure building within you until it was almost unbearable. Elvis noticed your impending release, and he increased the intensity of his actions. His thumb rubbed against your clit while his tongue continued to flick, and his fingers worked their way inside you. In that moment, you felt yourself tumble over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you. Elvis licked up your juices, a satisfied smile on his face, before leaning up and undoing his belt.

Elvis pulled his pants down, freeing his fully erect cock, and you couldn't help but stare. “C’mere yungen…” He cooed, guiding it to your mouth, gently pushing as you reluctantly opened up to accept him. Your tongue tentatively flicked against the tip, feeling it throb in response. Encouraged by his moan, you took him deeper into your mouth, Bobbing your head back and forth. Elvis's hands gripped tightly onto your head, his fingers burying themselves in your hair. Lost in the moment, you didn't realize how fast you were going until Elvis abruptly pulled out of your mouth. "Wait, wait... I want t-to," you stuttered, wanting to please him, to feel needed. But Elvis shook his head, "No, no. I don’t wanna cum yet, darlin’. He smiled and pushed you back down gently.  He positioned himself between your thighs, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. You’re breathing instantly hitched as you looked up at him. “Elvis- I ain’t never…” You stammered, and watched as a smirk spread across his face. “Oh honey…you’re all pure n’ here I am…taintin you.” Elvis spoke and you watched him shake his head, he didn’t even seem like himself at this moment. “Just…be easy.” You said quietly and Elvis nodded. He lined up his cock with your entrance and began to push in. At first, it hurt, but Elvis was gentle, taking his time to ease into you, his breath ragged as he filled you completely. You whimpered, the sensation unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Elvis paused, allowing you a moment to adjust. Once you seemed ready, he started to move, slow at first, but gradually picking up pace. Your eyes rolled back as he thrust into you, his hands gripping your hips. The pain soon faded, replaced by a burning need, a desire to feel more. Elvis leaned down to kiss you, his tongue dueling with yours as he continued to pound into you. A moan escaped your lips, and Elvis grabbed your face forcing you to look at him. “Open your mouth.” He demanded, opening your mouth he put a finger in there forcing it open wider before spitting in your mouth and forcing your mouth shut. “Atta’ girl.” He groaned, his pace quickening. 

Your moans grew louder, and your nails dug into the leather of the backseat, desperate for more. Elvis's grip on your hips tightened, his own moans growing more urgent as he approached his climax. "Come for me, yungen," he whispered, the intensity of his voice matching the rhythm of his thrusts. “Come for Daddy.” You clenched around him, unintended, but it sent him over the edge. With a loud groan, he filled you with his cum, spilling hot and thick inside you, your own orgasm following just after. Elvis collapsed onto you, sweaty and out of breath. You lay there in each other's arms, a strange peace settled as you looked up at the sky from the car window which had humorously become foggy. Slowly, Elvis withdrew from you, causing you to wince slightly.  Zipping up his pants, he helped you to get dressed, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "Thank you, darlin’," he whispered before leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. You didn't say anything; you didn't need to. The silence between you was no longer uncomfortable, something about how wrong what just happened was felt so…good. Elvis stroked your hair gently for a moment before motioning for you to climb back into the front seat, once the two of you were back in the front he looked over at you as he started the car and shifted it into gear, “You…you can’t tell no one about this.” Elvis said, his eyes seemed worried, but not full of regret.  “I won’t-” You replied, smiling at him. You couldn’t slow how fast your heart was beating, how shaky and satisfied you felt. “I love you.” You said, for the first time to him. Making his heart swell and his smile widen. 

“I love ya too, yungen.” 

ok so i am REALLY unhappy with how this turned out 😭 i feel like it doesn’t make much sense but i’m gonna keep trying to write something i enjoy, i hope u guys like it tho :3

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