#Elvis imagine

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Bde who has a really strong praise kink and gets turned on from it......

A/N: I've combined this request and one for soft dom reader with Elvis together into this story. Thanks for both! Also I love praise kink so I am weaaaaak for writing him like this. I went for 77 BDE for this one.

Good boy

Pairing: BDE x Older soft dom!Reader

Word count: 1.9K

TWs: Age gap (reader is 15 years older than Elvis), praise kink, use of mama in a sexual context, angst, Elvis cries, smut.

You’re almost a little nervous tonight, though you’re not sure why. It’s not as if he’s going to see you, let alone pick you out of everyone in the crowd. He doesn’t know you’re here, how could he? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you, it’s been so long since you last saw one another. And in the meantime you’ve moved to Charlotte, which is where he’s playing the final date of his tour. You’ve seen a lot about him in the press, read a lot of unkind comments and looked at a lot of unflattering photos. He certainly looks different to the young man you met in Memphis, full of boyish enthusiasm, with his floppy hair and puppy dog eyes. But you look different too. You were in your mid-thirties then, and obviously you’re much older now. Life has been relatively kind, though you’re divorced and you never had any kids, you’ve kept your figure and your hair has greyed in streaks that almost make you look distinguished. Your best friend told you that you should dye it, women of your age dye their hair she’d said, but you don’t care. You’ve never been one for doing what women of your age are supposed to, or you’d never have dated a man 15 years your junior. And you wouldn’t be at a rock concert now. 

When you eventually find your seat you’re much nearer the front that you’d imagined, and when he comes out in a beautiful white jumpsuit with what looks like feathers embroidered on it you audibly gasp. From the moment the music starts and he starts to move you’re captivated, memories of your time together flooding back to you just watching those hips. During Love Me you watch women elbow their way to the stage for scarves and kisses, and suddenly your legs seem to be taking you out of your seat too. You don’t expect to get to the stage in time, or for him to see you, you’re just acting on impulse. It feels a little like he’s hypnotised you, and you don’t have any choice in the matter.

And then he sees you. To begin with, he just sees an attractive older lady, well put together, waves of dark brown hair streaked with white. But as he bends down to ask if you want a scarf or a kiss, there’s something familiar in your face, and he thinks he must’ve met you before. 

“Have we met, honey?” He asks, wrapping a scarf around your neck and using it to pull you towards him, since you’d been too stunned to answer his first question. 

Your brain eventually kicks into gear. “We’ve done more than that,” you whisper, letting him kiss you gently. 

“Is that so?” He’s still trying to place you, his brain is slower nowadays and he’s tired. So tired. But he keeps you there, in the hopes he’ll remember or you’ll tell him. 

“You were my good boy, back in Memphis.”

Elvis is relieved he’d kept the mic far away from you both when he hears those words. He’s hit by such a powerful wave of memory it almost knocks him onto his ass. He blinks rapidly and then stares right into your eyes and you see that he remembers you. He whispers your name softly, and you nod. 

“Don’t go anywhere after,” he says quickly, seeing the sea of women gathering around you. “Someone will get you.”

You spend the rest of the show in a daze, thinking about his lips, the way he looked at you, the words he whispered like a plea. Don’t go.

***

You don’t go and someone does come and get you, and then you’re jammed in the backseat of the car between Elvis and one of his goons. The journey is mercifully short, and he holds your hand the whole time, a little smile playing on his lips. You’re relieved when he takes you into his suite and dismisses everyone else. Standing there in the middle of the room, still in his jumpsuit and belt, he looks both beautiful and incredibly tired. He looks down at you and sighs softly. 

“I-I can’t believe it’s you.”

“I can’t believe you remembered me.”

“Are ya kiddin’? ‘Course I do.”

You smile at one another as you keep standing there, taking one another in. After a few moments you decide to take control. 

“Why don’t you get comfortable? Take those clothes off, have a shower.”

He hums and fiddles slightly with his sleeve. “Ummm, mama…”

Your smile grows at the pet name. “Go on, I’ll sit with you in the bathroom.”

His breath catches in his throat thinking about you seeing him the way he is now. “Ah… I…”

“You want to be a good boy for me?” You ask, your hand on his face as you look into his eyes.

For the first time in a while, Little Elvis stirs at your words. “Yes, mama,” he whispers. 

“Off you go then.”

He nods and walks slowly over to the bathroom. You set the water going and check the temperature, and then sit on the side of the bath as he undresses awkwardly. 

“Your show was so good,” you coo, and he looks up. 

“Really?”

“Mmm yes. And you looked so good in that suit.” 

He lets the jumpsuit fall to the floor and you catch a quick glimpse of his semi-erect dick in his little white stage pants before he obscures them with his hands. He blushes as he asks you if you really thought that. 

Standing up, you put your arms around his neck, tugging his head down so you can whisper in his ear. “Yes, and you look good enough to eat right now too.”

His adorable, bashful smile lights up his face and he kisses you quickly, impulsively. You feel blood rushing between your legs and you smile back at him again. “And if you’re good you can have everything you want.”

He barely suppresses a little moan at those words. Doing what you told him to was one of his favourite things, when he was young and just getting famous. The way you told him how good he was filled him with warmth. He bathed in your praise, all your affirming words and gentle touches, and right now it feels like it’s exactly what he needs, after this long and gruelling tour. Stepping into the perfectly warm shower, he sighs as he washes away the grime of the performance. He finds himself in your arms on the bed, cocooned in just a robe as your nails scratch his sideburns, digging in and making him almost purr. You’re wearing one of his pyjama tops, it’s long on you but you’ve taken your panties off and he knows your bare pussy is under there. He looks at your long legs on either side of him. 

“Mama, you’re so beautiful.”

You kiss his temple as you blush a little at the compliment. You’re not immune to praise either, even though it’s his thing. Knowing he still wants you after all this time is a little dizzying, knowing your age doesn’t matter to him, the time that’s passed since you last saw one another doesn’t matter either. 

You’d discovered his love of praise almost straight away. He was so young and eager to please, and you taught him how to please you in a thousand different ways. An enthusiastic learner, he loved you instructing him, moving his head and then telling him when he’d hit the perfect spot. And the way you spoke to him afterwards. That was probably his favourite part. He would get so hard just from licking you out and you telling him he was a good boy that sometimes he’d cum before you even touched him. 

“Thank you, baby. You wanna make mama feel good?”

He nods quickly, almost scrambling to turn around to face you. You giggle, and the sound makes you feel like a young woman again. Instructing him to lie on his belly, you carefully lift the top up, exposing yourself for him. He groans at the sight of you. He’s seen a lot of pussies by now, but he could still have remembered every inch of yours without looking, he’s mapped it out with his tongue so many times. He crawls closer and his big hands spread your thighs, open-mouthed kisses trailing down the insides of them, just the way you used to like. 

“Yes, baby. I love your kisses.”

He keeps kissing, between your legs now, making you moan. His thumbs spread your lips as he dives in, making out with your pussy like he used to make out with girls when he was young. 

“Oh. That tongue feels so good.”

His hard-on presses against the bed as he keeps going, tongue dipping inside you, nose nudging your clit. 

“Yes, baby!” 

Pleasure buzzes in your veins as he carries on, worshipping you and tasting you. You need a lot to get turned on these days, but he brings back so many memories that you can feel yourself giving in to it. Bathing in the feeling, enjoying the journey. 

Once he thinks he’s got you good and wet, he moves his attention to your clit and slides a long finger inside. 

“Oh!”

“Is it good, mama?” He mumbles against you. 

“So good, baby. Oh you’re so good for me. Fuck. You’re gonna make me cum so hard baby. All over your gorgeous face.”

Another finger slides in beside the first, and he curls them to hit the spot he remembers inside you as he continues to work your clit with his tongue. The way you’re talking to him is driving him crazy, his hips are rutting into the bed just like they used to. 

“Oh fuck… yes…” 

You grab his head, pulling his hair a little as you push him onto your clit harder, feeling yourself teeter on the edge of oblivion. And then you’re moaning, and everything disappears in a blinding flash of light as your orgasm slams into your body. 

He licks you through it, trying to still his hips and stay patient. Waiting for you to tell him he’s done a good job. 

“Oh, my good boy,” you sigh, desperately pulling him towards you. 

You rearrange so his back is against your chest again, your hand on his belly as your eyes close and you savour your dizzying high. 

“Am I still good for you, mama?” 

You slowly reopen your eyes and look down at him, his blue eyes brimming with tears. 

“So good, baby. Best I’ve ever had.”

He turns his head as he closes his eyes again and a tear escapes down his cheek. Your heart aches for him. You don’t have to ask to know that he’s tired, that this wasn’t the life he thought he’d have, that he's just fulfilling obligations now. 

“You want mama to make you cum, baby?”

“Yes please,” he whispers, eyes still closed. 

Reaching down, your hand snakes around him. His breath hitches at the feeling, and he moans the moment you start to move slowly, up and down. 

“You’re so perfect. So gorgeous. So sexy. So good at making me feel good. I love everything about you, baby.”

You tell him all that and more, softly into his ear as your hand works him. Another tear sneaks down his cheek as you touch him and praise him, the feeling in his chest overwhelming. When he finally cums he calls out your name, and more tears spill from his eyes. 

“I love you, mama,” he whispers. 

Wrapping him tightly in your body, you kiss his face. “I love you too, baby. I’m glad we found each other again.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep @nebulamorada @iloveelvis2

[presleyslilbaby]

Request: imagine being Elvis wife & what that would include please thanks

~His Wife~

(60's!Elvis X Reader)

(Thank you for the request! I hope that you enjoy this short little story! It's not...Traditional...? Does that make sense...? I hope you like it anyways! There might be misspellings, so be aware of that-)

When you had first met Elvis in person, it was like a dream come true for you, like some sort of fantasy story. You had to admit, it wasn't easy talking to him. You kept fumbling over your words, having been in too much awe to speak properly. And Elvis adored that about you. Soon enough, the two of you began to hang out more and more, spending more time with each other than he spent with the Guys, and you had spent with your own friends. It was glorious. He even gave you your own special nickname. He liked to call you Skipper, the name reflecting the fact that you often skipped over words when you spoke passionately about something.

But that nickname dropped off when things started to change between the two of you. Instead of Skipper, he liked to call you "Mine". Your relationship grew stronger, and it hadn't taken long before you and him started to go steady. Being his Girlfriend was one thing, but when he proposed two years later? That was definitely different. The Wedding was as extravagant as Elvis could possibly make it, even if you attempted to get him to cut back the cost which obviously didn't work. He insisted that your Wedding be "the most beautiful event that matches his Bride". You couldn't deny how hard you blushed at that. On your Wedding night, he made sure that you knew just how much he loved you, taking it slow and kissing you through the whole process. It was one of the best nights of your life.

Being his Wife, Elvis most definitely liked to show you off. "Isn't she the most prettiest Gal you've ever seen?" He'd ask, cradling you close to his side. "That's why she's mine." He would add soon after feeling that pang of jealousy deep within his chest. You were his. Not anyone else's. His. Of course, he wasn't overbearingly jealous. The most he'd do is not talk to you for a few minutes before asking you for cuddles and kisses with a pout of his face. Whenever he had the alone time with you, Elvis always made sure to snuggle up with you. He was definitely a cuddle-bug. "Baby, let me lay my head on your chest please." Would be one of his requests, the others being similar in nature. Elvis liked to talk to you about growing a Family together, to have lots of children and expand the Presley Family with little bundles of joy. If you weren't feeling up to making Love with him, he never complained about it and would simply ask if there was anything he could do to help you feel better or more comfortable. He worried constantly for your well-being. It was genuinely very sweet how much of a Gentleman he was. "Mama and Daddy taught me to take care of my Lady. I love you, Y/n."

He reminded you every single day how much love he harboured for you, and how lucky he was to have you in his life. Elvis only had eyes for you, and he made sure that you knew that. He adored you.

[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?

[lustnhim]

manspreading 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

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

[presley4president]

Me core:

[aliengoth3]

New unseen video of Elvis and Lisa at Graceland in 1971 during Christmas

[gyratingpresley]

I expect you to make me a daddy.

Warnings: Smut smut smut...

This is just a little something to keep you going until I publish the next chapter for you're mine. If you do want to be tagged in my future stories let me know. Have a good read babies.

Elvis had been busy with his shows in Vegas, and the colonel had been working him like a dog, but he finally managed to convince the devil to let him come home to Graceland for a while. Ever since he came home, you two had spent every day together. He has always been the possessive type, never wanted you to leave the house without him, unless he knew where you were 24/7. Recently, Elvis had been waking up to an empty bed, so he adopted a new tactic that was falling asleep on your lap, trapping you in bed. It was annoying, but you enjoyed being close to him. You practically had to beg him to let you up for the bathroom.

A few days ago, you had agreed to go out for a drive with the rest of the mafia to shop for clothes. You had been nagging Elvis since he finally said you could on one condition, you come and stay in Vegas when he goes back. So here you were the morning of the day, you were lying in bed, stuck. Reading pride and prejudice with a smile on your face.

The rough pages of the book rustled as you turned them, the spine cracking every time you opened and closed it. You were so deep into the book, you hardly realized the heavy footsteps leading to your door. "Y/n! You comin' for a drive still? The boys are waiting. " Charlie. Elvis's right hand man, he was knocking on the door to the bedroom you and Elvis shared. You flited your eyes to the closed door and the man in your lap. "Yeah, comin' Charlie!" You called back, unfortunately disrupting the sleeping beauty, his hands curled around your waist as he shuffled around. He groaned. The sun streamed in through the long linen curtains, its warmth heating up your pink cheeks. "Elvis, come on, I gotta' get up." You ran the pads of your fingers through his hair, eliciting a moan from his lips. "Don't you move, little girl." Elvis growled, gripping the inside of your thigh, he pulled it to his mouth, you gasped as his teeth sunk into it. He then moved his mouth further up your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the skin.

"Elvis, stop, I need to get up." You run your fingers down his bare back.

"They can wait." He places a kiss to the lacy fabric of your underwear.

"Daddy's hungry."

His long fingers tuck under the waist band of your panties, he pulled them down slightly, placing a kiss to your womb.

Elvis has always had a yearning to make you pregnant, have you carry his baby. He had enough, he didn't want to keep pumping his cock to the thought of you with a swollen belly and full breasts, he wanted to see it, the life growing inside of you. Elvis groaned at the thought.

"What?" You cupped his face, bringing it up to look at you.

He hummed, "Take these off." The sharp edge of his nail trailed along your panties. "Not now baby." You push his hand away, wrong move. Elvis' eyes darken, he sits up, throwing your book onto the floor as his other hand ripped the delicate fabric of your underwear. You squealed as he grasped your thighs, forcing them apart. The force he was using caused you to fall back onto the soft pillows. "Elvis!" You struggled against him as he blew on your wet cunt. The cold air tickled something inside of you. You pulled at the sheets, trying to pull his head back away from your naked bottom half. Elvis shot one arm up to hold your hands above your head, the other pressing down on your pelvis keeping you down. He looked up at you.

"Quiet." His voice was low, it ran shivers up your spine.

As soon as his mouth touched your clit every fuck you gave crumbled away, it was just you and him. You moaned into the pillow, biting into it. His tongue worked your clit, sucking it and releasing it with a pop. He groaned into your pussy, thrusting his tongue in, he imagines you are pregnant with his child, all swollen and round, your breasts waiting to taken care of. He licks a stripe down your folds, just to thrust his tongue back in. Elvis stopped, bringing his hands down to part your thighs further, he sits up pulling his white boxer shorts down, his erect cock springing out. "Elvis, baby, people will hear! The boys are downstairs." You whispered. "Then you better keep your mouth shut? Huh little girl?" He pressed his red tip to your entrance, slowly pushing in. "Ah!" You squeal adjusting to his size, your never get use to it, Elvis smiles slyly, he leans down capturing your lips with his, his tongue moves along yours as he begins to thrust in, you moan into his mouth. He pulls back, curing his hands around your waist as he pulled almost all the way out, just to fill you up to the hilt.

The sounds of skin clapping together filled the air, the room smelt of sex. The sounds leaving you were almost pornographic as he pounded into you. "Oh! God! Fuck yes!" You scream out, Elvis picks up your hand, kissing your palm. "You gonna carry my baby? Hm?" He growls into your palm, you nod vigorously, gasping as he groped your breasts. The guys downstairs stopped their conversations as soon as they heard your cries of pleasure. Charlie ran his hand down his face, chuckling "Looks like she ain't comin' down any time soon." The rest of Elvis's mafia laughed as they all walked out the door. Elvis twisted you around, his hands gripping your hips. "That's it baby, you can do it, come on." He kissed your back, thrusting into you relentlessly. You gripped the headboard groaning as Elvis pushed himself deeper, "Oh!" You gasped, his fingers had found their way to your swollen clit, rubbing circles. "Cum for me." He spanked your ass, plowing into you now. The moans that left your mouth fueled his pleasure, tightening the feeling his in stomach. "Fuck!" He yelled out. The coil building in your stomach tightened as he thrusted in twice more before spilling his seed into you. You chased your own release, replacing Elvis's fingers with yours.

Elvis pulled out, you whined at the loss.

He pat your ass, his laugh sending a chill up your body.

"I expect you to make me a daddy." He hummed as he shoved the leaking cum back inside you.

It's just a small one shot (or is it...) to keep you going. Let me know if you want to be tagged in my work!

Tagged:

@redwitchbitch1

<333

[youaintnothinbuta]

𝐄𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

FLUFF

meeting your family

playin’ house

“Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me.”

“I didn’t know you could sing!”

Elvis the pelvis

“if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes” - PART 1

(part two in smut)

“if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes” - PART 3

first kiss

“mama, will you teach daddy how to?”

worried about you (DDM)

daddy Elvis

“oh good lord, deeper, Elvis!”

“What’re ya doing out at this time by yourself, anyway?”

“Do you have to show off?”

lunch with his family

“Thank you for being brave enough to ask.”

“I’m telling you, honey, you ain’t gon�� like it.”

“I’ve got her, you relax.”

“Are you going to come see daddy’s show, little girl?”

“What are you doing up, little lady?”

"Don't tell me you can't ever again."

“She’s being a real brat.”

“Hey now, don’t you start questioning me too.”

“Elvis, stop it.”

“I wanna go steady.”

“Just a little bit more.”

“Is everyone where you’re from this pretty?”

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night”

SMUT

“got the blood pumping quite a bit there, hey sweetheart?”

finish what you started

“if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes” - PART 2

“Come home, baby, please.”

“Looks like Presley’s got himself a little plaything.”

“I can’t think straight with such a view.”

“I got what I wanted.”

“It’s okay, baby, come.”

[mahg-stuff]

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

Tysm for the request! Enjoy it lovee! ♡

Kiss'n make it better

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One clears his throat.

"Hey there, y/n, ya need anythin'?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

"I can handle." 

You say it humbly.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Goddammit!" He started. 

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

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

His pride was unexpected for you. 

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

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

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

"That right?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This wasn't your Elvis. 

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It always tortured you when you saw him like this. 

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A look you may never get used to. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Making you even more rosy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was really rubbing off on you, for sure.

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

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

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

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

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

Trying again, you huff, "Won't fit." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded, unable to say any words. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Master List

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[jhoneybees]

Talkative

Here's a cute little blurb, you lovelies 💕

Characters: Late 60s!Elvis X little! reader

Warnings/triggers: Little lifestyle, age regression

_____________________________________________

Sometimes when Elvis and you go to bed, it would be a bit of a challenge when you're little, especially when you're in a talkative mood which tonight's one of those nights.

“Alright, Comfortable?” Elvis asks as he sets your favourite stuffie beside you after making sure things are good for you, you nod “All good!” reaching your arms out from under the blanket, doing grabby hands making him chuckle.

“I'm comin’ I'm comin” he reassures, walking over to his side of the bed and climbing in under the covers, wrapping an arm under you to bring you closer to him earning a small giggle from you. “What's so funny?” tickling your side slightly.

Your small squeals erupt “ ‘m ticklish Daddy!” pushing your fists against his side in a weak attempt to make him stop, he chuckles and moves his hand. “Okay, Okay” Elvis replaces the tickling to rubbing your back and he smiles lovingly as he looks down at your pretty face.

“I love you, y’ know that?”

He hums as you respond by nuzzling your head against his chest. His hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face, being given the sight of that sweet, innocent, child-like spark in your eyes. His eyes soften “My beautiful sweet girl…” lifting both of his hands to cup your face just below the jaw, leaning in to pepper your face with his famous kisses, giving you the last one on your nose..

“Get your beauty sleep, Honey… ” he mumbles tiredly, you nod against his chest and you close your eyes.

. . .

“Daddy…” you whisper, earning a deep hum from Elvis. “Me and Jerry had a lot of fun today” he breathes out “Is that so?” with a grin on his face, you smile “Mhm! We…we drew really pretty pictures and- and had a tea party with all my friends and..” Elvis’ grin widens knowing that these friends of yours were the plushies that he would give you whenever he came back from tour.

“And we went out in the garden! I took Hoppie with me too but I dropped her in a muddy puddle” your eyes and voice trailing off before looking up at Elvis “She’s ok though, Jer said that giving her a wash in the washing machine wouldn’t hurt” making him crack another smile.

“Mhm, sounds like you did have fun today” letting a small yawn before bringing his hand up to stroke your hair “You must be tired, baby hm?”saying that in hopes that would get you to snuggle up and fall asleep, your head moves slightly against his chest “mmm, not yet- oh! We picked pretty flowers too! Roses and- and uhm hydran- hydran…”

Letting out another yawn, Elvis rubs his face with his free hand “Hydrangea?” beginning to lightly scratch your scalp “Hydrangea! Yeah so-” a quiet, tired chuckle fills your ears “Honey, let’s go to sleep hm? Daddy had a long day” combing his hand through his hair, Elvis lowers his eyes to your doll ones “But I didn’t tell you about-”

“Ya can tell me tomorrow baby” he says with a southern drawl. Rolling onto his side and bringing you in closer with his almost limb arms because of how tired he is “Goodnight darlin’” making sure to place a peck upon your head.

Sighing softly as his chin rests on top of your head, his eyes fluttering closed “I want milk”

“Oh Honey-”

[starryschoolgirl]

Good Husbandry

Summary -> While you view preparing for your honeymoon as finding all the hottest destinations in Honolulu for tourists, Elvis knows that he must help you, his soon-to-be virgin bride, understand all that comes with the honeymoon. What a good man he is, to give you a little hands-on lesson on what good husbandry is.

Warnings -> Lovely domestic things, innocence/purity kink, religious undertones, smut, just the tip trope, hinted breeding kink, swearing, Elvis gets a little rough, mention of RFK's assassination, the reader is overbearingly sheltered when it comes to topics like sex, cum eating, fantasies of "ruining" a girl's vagina, there's definitely some plot here I won't lie, loved writing this a little too much.

WC -> 7.3k

A/N -> This is an installation of the Baby Love AU. Find Masterlist Here!

The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotion for everyone. Elvis was doing press conferences for the NBC special he was about to start filming for, and while you usually go with him, with the recent assassination of Robert F. Kennedy, it was decided unanimously that it would be best if you were at home.

Elvis would have liked to keep you by his side, but given your family’s public connection to the Kennedys he knew that the press might behave in an uncalled for manner toward you.

It was also to be noted that he’d been very patient with you the entire week, after all you did know the man. He was a close family friend, a lot closer to your father, mother, and older brother than you. But there were still tears shed a few nights ago when it had occurred.

Most of that week you sat around the current California home, keeping the couch company like you were the prettiest of pillows as you spent most of your time on the telephone with your hysterical mother and being soothed by your childhood nanny who now watched your younger brother. You’d decided to write a letter to Ethel, she was no doubt being bombarded with phone calls from press and other family with the recent death of her husband. 

It was a rough way to start the month, it was only 6 days into June when something as tragic as that had occurred. 

You were certain things would change in regards to the guest list of your wedding just a little over a week away, for one you could understandably count on the possible absence of Ethel Kennedy and her children. Aside from her it wasn’t Elvis’ side you were worried about, because when Elvis says jump they all say “how high?”. It was your own side that worried you.

You knew it was selfish and stupid to be thinking of that at a time like this, those poor Kennedys have been through so much. But you couldn’t help the worrisome thoughts that lingered in your mind. Your parents already didn’t approve of Elvis all that much, with the influx of emotion that this event caused they might just cancel all together and then you’ll be left without anyone from your own family.

And that alone could cause an emotional storm to brew in Elvis. He always expressed his own disdain for your family, but you knew there was guilt deep down that he felt. And if he realized that he were the reason your wedding day went without family, he would be angry with you and himself. But that was only because he felt things very deeply, he was caring in that way.

So you made sure the past few days to get in as much reading as possible, so that even if your wedding doesn’t end up being the dream you hoped for, that your knowledge of your honeymoon destination would make up for it.

It had to be perfect. You had to be perfect.

"We better get up and get changed soon..."

You hummed absently at Elvis' words as your eyes continued to skim along the page.

"Wouldn't want the rest of the boys seein' ya in ya nightie"

You hummed once more at whatever he had said, much too focused on your book to pay much mind. Elvis noticed this and laughed softly as he asked,

"What are ya readin' Honey?"

You looked up from the book that you had been enthralled in for the past half-hour to see Elvis staring at you over one of his religious books, he had a crooked smile and a quirked eyebrow, his facial expression likely from the fact that you were actually reading a book.

You smiled cheekily and crawled closer to him on the bed, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you quickly card your floral bookmark in between the pages you were on before closing it and presenting it to Elvis, your fiancé.

"It's a book all about Hawaii, it has some of the best secret locations on all the islands, including Oahu"

You smiled up at him as his eyes scrolled to look over at you then at the book, a smirk playing on his lips as he did so. He set his book down on his lap to grab yours, one of his fingers tracing over the cover as he murmured honestly,

"Well Babylove, I don't think these locations are all too secret anymore considerin' the book is 7 years old"

You hummed softly at the statement. Truthfully you only picked the book off the shelf because one, it said Hawaii which is the place you and Elvis were planning to be your honeymoon destination, and secondly, it was pink.

Elvis shook his head fondly and brought a hand up to ruffle your hair, thankfully at the moment there were no rings on his fingers to pluck and pull at the strands of your hair. With that in mind you happily leaned into the touch like a cat getting its fix from its owner.

You roll your body closer, dragging one leg over Elvis' legs as if he were one of those long body pillows. You snuggled your face into his chest, feeling the silky fabric of his short ascot scarf. He'd recently begun wearing them often, you didn't mind it because you could tug him by his scarf whenever you wanted a kiss.

Your voice was soft and murmured into the fabric, "I wanna start our marriage off right, our honeymoon has to be perfect, and this book,”

You pull back for a moment to grab the book and open it to the first page. Elvis watches with an amused smile as your dainty little finger flies across the dust-colored pages to the sentence that you read aloud,

"These spots will guarantee a sweet time with that special someone"

Elvis’ voice is laced with harmless sarcasm (that you don’t quite catch) as he says,

“Oh well if the book says so, it has to be true”

You then excitedly close the book and show Elvis the back cover, where a quote from what must've been a review was laid out in bold, "Has the hottest places for America’s hottest honeymoon destination"

Elvis laughed softly. His arm wraps around your shoulder as his hand runs up and down your back, calluses grazing the delicate fabric of your satin nightie with a scratching sound before taking its rest on the curve of your ass. He explains, "Well little one, there's a bit more to honeymoons and marriage than that"

Your eyebrow quirks in the way you learned from watching Elvis' own eyebrow within the span of your relationship. It looked as if you were suspicious of Elvis, thinking he was trying to pull the wool over your eyes.

With a gentle hand Elvis removed the book from your hand and set it on the nightstand where he then set his own book on as well. You laughed softly as Elvis’ hands pulled you into your place, till you straddled his lap innocently for him to explain something,

“Well Babylove, a big part of marriage and honeymoonin’ is good husbandry.”

You go silent for a second, thinking to yourself as your fingers trace little shapes on Elvis’ chest absentmindedly. When you come to the conclusion that you’re clueless on the subject you ask,

“What’s husbandry?”

Elvis’ hands run along your sides, running up to your ribs, down to your hips, then repeating their cycle, it was in his own absentmindedness that he did it as he explained,

“Well, husbandry is kind of cultivatin’ and makin’ use of land, sorta like plantin’ a seed and takin’ care of it.”

“Like farmers do?”

“Very good girl, like farmers do. Now ya see, that comes into play within things like marriage and honeymoons. To be a farmer, the first thing ya gotta do is plant a seed, then ya get your farm goin’ and everythin’ is just dandy as long as you keep takin’ care of that seed.”

You nodded your head along to what he was saying, it made sense. But what did that have to do with your honeymoon?

“Just as that goes, to be a husband, you also gotta plant a seed. So ya see, in marriage, instead of a farmer plantin’ a seed, it’s the husband who plants the seed, and he plants it right in your petals”

You grimaced with embarrassment as you heard Elvis mention your “petals”. Such talk was still very new to you. Having been raised by the church most of your life, and having only attended catholic private schools, you’d been taught that such talk was deplorable and vulgar. 

Elvis seemed to be trying to undo all their teaching as he was very free and open with topics such as that one.

He could see the way your face began to dust a precious pink along your cheeks as you stared down at your hands scrunching up his shirt’s fabric within them. He couldn’t help but adore his sweet girl and lift your chin to take in the entirety of your innocence, the privilege of being innocent and naive having been fed to you with a silver spoon since you were a baby with your family’s fortune.

Your education didn’t span too far, it was done under the assumption that you’d be protected from the roughness of the world, the riff-raff. And though Elvis was a fair match monetarily-wise to your parents and the people you were raised around,with enough money to keep you as far away from the world’s roughness as possible, he was still considered to be in that riff-raff crowd.

Oh, what a shame for your family and the rest of your upper-class culture to have a rare purity, like you whisked away from your family made up of good breeding and a pure bloodline by a man like Elvis who would screw it all up when he one day planted his seed into your womb, making your once purebred French bloodline his own as he mixed himself into the history of your DNA to make a child that you will carry for months.

A child you will love to no end while your ancestors roll over in their graves.

Just the thought of it all made Elvis giddy.

His smile is cheeky as he grabs one of your nervous hands to soothe you while also keeping a grip on your chin with his other hand, his voice is breathy from speaking through a laugh,

“Now don’t let me lose ya, still got some splainin’ to do”

You can’t help but continue to duck your head away into your shoulder to hide your embarrassment, till Elvis pulls you out of it with his sweet little nickname for you,

“C’mon now Bubbles, need ya to keep listenin’ f’me”

You look up to meet those dark blues of Elvis’ that pierce with a strange softness.

“To seal the marriage a man plants his seed in a woman, and from then on he has to take care of that woman, that’s good husbandry. That’s part of what happens on a honeymoon. Understand?”

You nod slowly, and mumble a soft, “I understand”, before laying yourself down on Elvis, making yourself comfortable as you lay your head against his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso, somehow squeezing their way between Elvis' frame and the mattress.

Marriage seemed scary. Ever since you had gotten engaged to Elvis you felt a different weight begin to fall on your shoulders. And though you were excited to marry Elvis, you couldn’t help but remember how your mother described marriage to be with your father.

As Elvis dragged his hands along your body tracing every poke of a bone through your skin he closed his eyes, showing his affection through the action, you thought back to how marriage was represented to you as a little girl.

There were nights when your father stayed late for work that you’d sit on the floor between your mother's legs as she sat on the sofa, by then she would be nursing her 4th glass of wine that night, and let her braid your hair before bed.

You’d whimper softly as her diamond-littered gaudy engagement ring, which was comparable to the one you now owned, would catch on some strands of your hair. But you wouldn’t voice any complaint as she was too busy voicing her own, complaining to an 8-year-old you about your father’s “wandering eye”, how he loves work more than he loves his family, and that he can’t even function without a pill, in what sense she meant “function” you’d never know, because you only saw your father as a personal superhero. The man who would bring gifts like Santa, the man who would read you to bed on the rare nights he could, the man who held the whole world in his hand every time he held you.

You didn’t recognize the man your mother would drunkenly describe. And soon after you wouldn’t recognize your own mother as she would break into tears and talk about how it’s her fault, and that she knows it all falls on her to make the marriage work, she just needs to try harder.

You’d caress her knee and try to soothe the adult, “It’s okay Mommy”, while mustering up the courage to promise her that, “It’ll be okay”

And then at the end of the night, she would turn you around and slur with as much affection as she could muster,

“Always tend to your husband Sweetie, don’t make a prude of yourself like me, don’t make a nagging wife, be pleasant and pliant and you’ll be a happy wife”

Of course you weren’t married yet, and that might’ve been what was causing you to be such a worrywart, because you were scared of the unknown. That’s why you’ve been trying your best to find ways to start the marriage off in the best way possible.

But you now had a whole other thing to worry about perfecting, husbandry. 

It would all work out though, as long as you heed your mother’s words and be a pleasant, pliant wife, you’ll be just fine, and you’re confident that Elvis would never turn out to be the kind of husband that your mother described your father to be.

You mumbled into the fabric of Elvis’ shirt,

“How does a man plant his seed in a woman?”

Elvis’ hands came to a halt at your words. He thought he’d gone over this kind of thing with you before, then again there was never much need to. You never prodded for more than you were given, because you were simply unaware there was more you could get out of the pleasures of your body.

Elvis stared down at the top of your head as you kept your cheek resting on his chest, he realized how abstract your thoughts must’ve been compared to his within your relationship. He had spent countless nights holding himself back from making you his completely, there were so many times he easily could’ve done so. So many times you put yourself in the position to be vulnerable to the disgusting thought of a man who knew the pleasures you could give.

Had Elvis been a different man he would’ve done so by now, taken you shamelessly and left you crumpled on the floor next to your crumpled up clothes.

But he’d be reigned back by the thought that God wouldn’t make something like you, something so pure and holy, for sin. Had Elvis not been a god-fearing man he would’ve had his way with you.

All those nights he spent eating you out, listening to you finally break that voice box of yours in, the only thing he’d thought about was how much louder you would be when he could finally fuck you, meanwhile you thought that the sensation guided by Elvis’ tongue that momentarily blinded you was as good as it got, was as close as you’d get to God.

Oh Elvis could show you so much more, teach you so much more, touch you so much more. And as shameful as it is, he’d be a liar if he said that the fact that he wanted to be the one deflower you didn’t play a role in your engagement.

“I could show ya how it’s done Honey, would ya be alright with that? It’s a little different from anything we’ve ever done”

You sat up on his lap and nodded as you kept a hand to support yourself up on his stomach. He basked in the sight of you with a small smile, digging his hands through your hair like roots in the dirt, so deep and entangled it could be hard to tell where your hair began and his hands ended.

It wasn’t at all painful in the way your mother’s hands used to rest in your hair during her drunken stupor.

It was gentle as Elvis always was.

He used a gentle force to pull you close enough for him to press a kiss to your forehead for a moment and hold it there, you closed your eyes and let out a breath, any stiff stress in your body leaving at the touch of Elvis’ lips.

He pulled away, lips and hands.

“Lay down Baby”

Elvis patted your side of the bed and you quickly laid down as you usually would, and with a quick fwip of his hips Elvis’ knees rested just outside your thighs, his entire body hovering above yours as he reached over to your nightstand.

You heard the clink of glass, no doubt the two glass figurines you’d had since you were a child, your voice was soft but panicked as you felt a pang of protectiveness over your childhood trinkets.

“W-What are you doing?”

His response was immediate as he knew your sentimental feelings toward your figurines,

“It’s alright Honey, jus’ turnin’ Dottie and Lottie around”

“Oh.”

You let out a sigh of relief before having a blush spread like a wildfire in the summer across your cheeks. When Elvis had first touched you, you felt the need to turn your glass figurines Dolores and Charlotte, also known as Dottie and Lottie, around before he could continue any further. When he asked you why you could only mumble a quiet explanation about wanting to preserve their innocence. Elvis didn’t mind the strange gesture, he thought it was rather cute actually, it was something so girlish and sweet, something he’d never think of, it further instituted that you really were an endearing little girl.

And ever since then anytime Elvis touched you, he’d always turn your figurines toward the wall for you. And him doing it now meant that to plant his seed in you, he had to touch you.

You close your eyes as you relax into the mattress completely, and feel a shift in the bed then the cold air began to linger up your nightie, or rather Elvis made your nightie linger up your skin, giving way for him to view the cutely contrasting color of your pastel yellow panties to your pastel blue short satin nightie.

As the bed shifted a little more you allowed Elvis to part your legs so he could slide off the piece of fabric, his hands caressing the skin of your ankles a few seconds longer than the rest of your leg, and then he intricately removed your panties off your feet he laid them on the outside of your thigh, within arm's length.

You assumed what you’d be feeling next was what you always felt whenever he touched you, those calloused fingers of his walking their way up your thighs as he made himself comfortable right between the two limbs, his mouth and nose inches away from that bundle of nerves that he so lovingly explained was the bud of your little rose. 

His fingers would then drift down to what he called the petals of your rose, separating them gently, exposing your hole to the cold air of the room making you shiver like the scared little girl you were as he did so. But he liked it, liked how visceral all your reactions were from your inexperience.

Only this time, you’d been wrong as you heard the familiar shink of his belt, and as if you were a trained dog and his belt were a clicker, your eyes shot open as you knew what that sound meant. It meant you got to do the touching, but, why were your panties off if you were doing the touching?

As you sat up you saw Elvis shucking his pants and boxers down, you watched with a blush as you saw his dick, it wasn’t yet completely hard, it more so at half-staff if anything, with that it maintained enough loose skin so that the usual image of his veins bulging profusely through the thin skin was not a sight you’d yet see, but you could change that.

As you sat up with your legs still spread enough so that Elvis once he was free of his pants was able to swiftly kneel between them. You leaned forward with an eager hand but Elvis had caught your wrist before you’d made it to your target, you batted your eyelashes up at him in confusion.

“Elvis?”

He had a crooked smile on his lips and asked, “Don’t ya remember what ya gotta do first? C’mon Hon we’ve been over this a dozen times”. You had to think for a moment but felt flushed with embarrassment at your own mistake.

Elvis’ eyebrow ticked upward as he caught your realization, then he slowly raised your hand up to your mouth for you to lick a stripe along it. When he didn’t immediately pull away you knew to keep lapping at the skin till Elvis saw it suitable.

His head tilted down a little as he made eye-contact with you through the cracks of your fingers, staring at you as you licked lines of wet along the lines of your palm, he was mumbling a praise or too like “There ya go”, and “Just like that”. You only shut your mouth as his free hand came up to cup your cheek and gently push you back from your hand.

With your newfound view of his cock it definitely looked less limp than before but Elvis had taught you how to get it standing, and you wanted to show him that you could. He’d been loosening the reins lately and had been giving you more independence to touch him in the way you knew he liked. But at the perfect moments he’d step in and be a helping hand, wrapping his much larger hand around yours as he showed you what kind of pace he liked when his dick twitched a specific way.

It was him helping you build this muscle memory that was slowly etching its way into your brain, on the walls of your skull, and in the nerves of your hand

With the softest of groans leaving Elvis’ mouth your eyes shot up from his cock that maintained the attention of your palm, wanting to see his face, see the preview of your own triumph as you continued to stroke with the pace his hand guided yours along.

His smile was gone as his mouth twisted slightly to let out the low noise, he licked his lips quickly and tightened his hold on your hand, in turn tightening your hold on his cock as he ran your palm up and down it, your voice was hesitant and soft as you questioned, “L-Like that Elvis? I do it like that…”

He hummed an affirmation and mumbled, “Keep at it”, before pulling his hand off yours, leaning back on the bed on his palms while watching you with lowered lids, had they been any lower they would’ve been closed.

You tried shuffling yourself closer by planting your heels into the mattress and scooting yourself closer, but it was hard to focus on both things. You didn’t want to louse up what a good job you were doing, but you felt you could do better if you were just a little closer.

Elvis must’ve read your inner turmoil as he leaned off his palms and cupped the back of your knees with each hand, pulling you closer at the top of your calves where they connected with your thighs. As you continued with your strokes you noticed how close you now were, your bare pussy had never been so close to Elvis’ cock.

With the realization a strange curiosity shot through you, a kind of curiosity that had filled your senses one of the first times you’d sat on Elvis’s lap. He kept you on one knee easily, and it had been the leg that he often bounced absentmindedly, and as he easily bounced you on his leg you felt a weird sensation, and that damned curiosity of yours got the best of you subtly shifted on his leg, and suddenly the jumbling of your legs on his knee had shifted to a jumbling on a small bundle of nerves between your legs.

No you wouldn’t let your curiosity get the best of you again, you wouldn’t.

As Elvis pulled his hands away from your legs he leaned back on one palm and the other he reached forward to rub that very bundle of nerves you’d just been thinking of about. Just the slightest bit of force made your body react with what could be described as a convulsion as you breathed out a noise of surprise.

Elvis’ almost dazed look on his face didn’t shift as he glided his calloused thumb down between your folds, scooping up whatever was beginning to wet them, then using it as a lubricant to give your clit a good rub down, his facial expression unwavering as he watched you twitch and struggle to focus on doing a good job.

His voice was low and almost sounded slurred as he mumbled,

“Now this is hard ain’t it Honey? Tryin’ to pleasure each other at the same time?”

Your face shrunk and your lip quivered as you tried to maintain that you wouldn’t break under the sensations of it all, wanting to do good.

Upon gaining no answer Elvis’ eyes glazed up to meet yours, they now shifted to sympathy as he reassured you gently with little circles of his thumb around your bud,

“It’s alright Baby, I know it. I know it’s hard, that’s why through marriage a man can plant his seed in a woman, makes it easier y’know? A man can help you while he helps himself, ya shouldn’t have t’be doin’ work Honey”

You don’t know when you started nodding along to his words, you hardly understood them, but the way his eyebrows arched, the way his lips curled, the way his voice drew out, he seemed like he knew everything in the world. He was so in his element that you wouldn’t question it if he told you a cat were a dog.

But you had to ask, through your soft pants and whimpers, “H-how?” How was it possible to both be pleasured at the same time? How was it possible for both of you to reach that special spot just between the earth and the heavens where all felt impossibly right?

Elvis’ lips grew to a smirk once more as he removed his thumb from your clit and his hand wrapped around yours to pull you away. As you looked down you saw that familiar sight, that thin skin stretched out to show that long vein that started at the side of his dick and traveled down the center.

His other hand ran up your calf, to your thigh just to rest on your stomach, still covered by the top of your satin nightie, and with a firm force and a, “Lie back f’me” you were laid down on the bed with your legs spread.

He spread them a little further, and you watched as best you could while still laying down, craning your neck painfully to see what he was doing as he made a ring out of his thumb and index finger.

Elvis’ eyes met with yours, making sure you were watching before lining the tip of his cock up with the little makeshift hole he made of his fingers for demonstration.

“When a man plants his seed, he fills you with himself. This right here,” He lifted the little ring he’d made of two fingers, “This is like that little hole between your petals, so what I’m gonna do is fill it just slightly,” he slid the ring over the tip of his cock, leaving you to watch with a mouth slightly agape as his movement stretches the foreskin.

It’s not like when you stroke him though, he stops much too short, and doesn’t even go near the base of his cock, he ends at the base of the tip only.

“Now, this much is just till the wedding Hon. We can only do just the tippy top Baby, can’t break ya in just yet, we gotta wait till we’re unified under God to make that kinda connection-”

“...cause it’s special”

Elvis looked up at you, surprised to hear your soft voice so suddenly, it seems the words left your mouth with a little thoughtful pout. God, let this man hold back today. Let him be graceful and kind to his babylove, Elvis thought to himself as he smiled softly and hummed, 

“Yes it is sweet girl, it’s somethin’ special”

As a moment of sweet silence filled the air the two of you made eye contact, you smiled, feeling unsure of what was to come, he smiled back knowingly.

“Are ya ready Babylove?”

You bit your lower lip nervously and could only nod with trusting eyes. Elvis’ figure suddenly shut out most of the light from the ceiling as he supported his body above yours with one hand while he used his other to line up the tip of his cock.

You let out a shaky breath as he parted your fold with the tip of his cock before running it along your leaking slit. From the bottom up past the top till he hit that bundle of nerves that he could find with a blindfold. You squeaked softly at the bit of force he was using to circle your clit with his cock.

Elvis swore he’d do everything with you in mind, but as he watched the way your big eyes would crinkle to little bouts of eyelid folds and as he saw the way your lip quiver with every squeak and breath you let out, he couldn’t help himself but gauge your reaction to a little something.

Your breaths came out one by one in panic as you suddenly felt the tip of his cock begin to bat around your little bundle of nerves from the top, from side to side, even attacking from the bottom. Your eyes shot open from their little crinkles of stress and just before you could open your mouth his little batting around of your sensitive bud turned to slowed drawn out circles rubbing along the edge.

“That feels good huh Honey? It’s gonna get even better, just need ya to relax. Uh huh, that’s good, you’re doin’ good”

You relaxed into it, your jaw falling slack and your breaths coming out shallow. As you sank into that warmth that always accompanied Elvis’ gentle touch, Elvis pulled his neck back slightly to get a better look at your hole, with your folds parted he had a perfect view if he could look past his cock. He craned his neck a little to the left and found the target, wide open from your relaxed state, he licked his thumb to lubricate it and like a veteran, he navigated his cock down and at the forefront of it as his thumb took its place and pace in circling your clit, had you not been watching through lidded eyes you wouldn’t have even noticed.

“Here it come Baby, here it come”

Elvis couldn’t even look at you to gauge your reaction as his head fell back immediately as he was engulfed by your heat. Somewhere in the distance he heard a high-pitched noise but he was too high on the feeling- No, the knowledge that the first thing to fill you, to really fill you was his uncut cock’s head.

He breathed out to the ceiling, or rather to the Lord,

“Fuck…”

How could a feeling like this fill his mind, body, and soul from just the tip going in. Shit if he hadn’t already proposed to you he would do it now, just so he could one day feel the full effect of your body on his.

And then he finally peered down at you, and you were a sight to behold. He hadn’t been with a virgin in a long time, and the ones he had been with, you made them look like the most experienced girls in the world.

Your face was crumpled and your clenched fist was brought up to your mouth, you bit down so hard on your knuckles Elvis could see the skin losing its color around your little teeth. His hand slid down to your hip, running along the skin soothingly, as he hummed out, “Relax, it’s alright, just relax”

You nodded and pulled your fist from your mouth to show you were relaxing, but as your lower lip trembled Elvis could only softly remind, “Relax…”

And after a few moments of Elvis running his hands along your hips you spoke in an unsure whisper, “I-Is that it?”, Elvis sighed with a smile, “No Hon, don’t worry, but I can’t show ya the rest till ya relax, alright?” Elvis could feel you tightly around him, if he tried to pull the head of his cock back out he’d hurt you, he knew that.

"I-I am relaxed"

“No ya not Babylove”

You sighed softly, feeling a bit frustrated, this wasn’t what you thought it would be, it hurt. And it was obvious that you weren’t acting in the most pleasing way, so you lied through your teeth with a bit of an edge to your quiet words, “I’m relaxed.”

Elvis’ soft smile fell slightly at the tone of voice, and his eyebrows rose as he stared down at you, only now you avoided eye contact and opted to look at the wall. You tried to focus on the paint of the wall as best you can but it was thrown out the door as you felt a painful pull.

You whined at the feeling, and watched as Elvis pulled out, now you attempted to look him in the eye but he didn’t even spare you a glance as he muttered before lining himself up again, “Call that fuckin’ relaxed? If you’re so relaxed it should be easy goin’ back in”

Before you could voice an apology he’d already shoved the tip back in. It was much rougher than the first time he had put it in, it had you release a loud whimper and kick your feet, your heels pushing you away from his body, but his hips only chased further.

And those hands that were soothingly rubbing along your hips earlier now had them in a bruising grip to keep you from moving.

“Said ya relaxed, so fuckin’ act like it-”

Elvis let out a low groan as he stroked his cock while your little hole contracted from the stress of it all, it was like you were trying to swallow him, trying to suck him down into you. Almost like your body knew you needed his seed. And had he been a different man, or more accurately, had you been a different girl, he would’ve given it to you without shame. But you were different, you were special, you made this special.

He pulled out once more just to push back in, and then he repeated with no time in between, leaving you gasping at the rough push and pull of his cock head and whining at it, before blubbering out a series of apologies to him.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, ‘m not relaxed..! I-It hurts Elvis..!”

He’d ignored your apologies, but the way you said his name, like he could solve all your problems while also causing all of them, it was like you had this type of innocence. A pure innocence that no matter the pain he’d cause you, you’d still love him. Like if he kicked you, you’d come running right back.

Elvis stopped himself from pulling out once more and stared down at you, his grip released and one of his hands cupped your cheek and rested a thumb at the corner of your eye just before your temple, ready to catch a tear in case those teary eyes of yours spill over.

You stared up at him with a frown and pulled your hands to rest nervously on your stomach, feeling a sudden sense of awkwardness mixed with discomfort at the idea of Elvis being upset with you. But instead he seemed to sympathize with you,

“Now you see, ya gotta listen to me Babylove. I don’t expect much from ya, all I expect is honesty, now, be honest and let me know when you relax.”

You let out a shaky breath and soft noise as Elvis’ thumb landed back on your clit, beginning to rub those circles that make your hips twist a little from instinct. Elvis’ lips had been on yours in the blink of an eye, but his kiss was deep and slow, it wasn’t like when he’d kiss you so hard and so fast that your teeth knocked against his. Instead you felt his tongue explore each and every inch of your mouth carefully, could feel the way his tongue swiped along the small space between your lower gums and teeth.

His nose lightly grazed against the start of your cheek as he tilted his head to get a different angle. 

And in what would be one of the only moments for you to catch your breath within the kiss, you managed to breath out, “‘M ready”

It was a different kind of tug due to the efforts of the both of you. You were relaxed and open and Elvis was only rocking back and forth into you, no complete pulling, you couldn’t handle that yet.

With each rock of his hips, you let out a little breath or squeak. For a moment you lost focus as you watched the way Elvis used the thumb on one hand to stroke your little bud while using his other hand to stroke himself, but you were pulled back into your moment with Elvis as he groaned lowly, followed by a groan that sounded a bit more throaty. He was close.

And knowing that it was because he was in you made you feel a sense of excitement, and sense of sexuality, realizing you could make a man feel this way by doing nothing but laying there like a pliant doll.

Be a pliant wife. Your mother was right.

Your hips dragged upward slightly, crashing into his hips that were rocking down into you, the collision of skin made you moan softly as your manicured nails reached for the sheets, one hand gripped them brutally while your other hand ended up in Elvis' hair, not gripping, only carding through the dark strands.

“E-Elvis, it’s- I’m…”

You couldn’t describe it, what was coming, but thankfully you didn’t have to as he mumbled into your lips,

“I know Baby, I know. It’s comin’ f’me to, comin’ fast Babylove- H-how’s it comin’ for you?”

As the upward grind of your hips turned to little upward thrusts that your feet could manage on the slippery sheets of the bed you could hardly choke out a word as his thumb had entertained that warmth just below your stomach for too long, it’d been teased and tugged along far too long from the rubbing of his thumb on your little bundle of nerves that at its peaking point, it snapped, leaving you to try and choke out the words,

“It- I- It’s-”

As your mouth remained agape but your voice fell silent, and those pitiful attempts at thrusts of yours fell back to wishful grinds of your hips. Elvis thanked the Lord, he’d been trying his best to hold on for you, to slow his rocking when he felt himself get a little too close, he’d been edging himself almost the entire time for you.

And now as he pulled out and continued to stroke his cock with one hand, the hand previously fondling your clit reached for the pair of panties he laid aside so long ago.

As you caught your breath you watched as Elvis’ hand stroked twice, thrice, four more times along his length before he buried his cock in your crumpled up panties, letting his head fall back and a guttural moan fill the room as he reached his peak.

After a few moments of silence accompanied by the pants of the both of you Elvis removed the metal ring holding his short ascot scarf together at the center of his neck, you heard a clink as he tossed it somewhere on the wood floor, then you watched as the fabric got closer to your face, closing your eyes at the contact you could feel Elvis wiping away the dampness building on your head and cheeks from the heat what you just experienced. As the feeling left you watched as he wiped his own face off before bringing the satin scarf down to your petals, wiping off the proof of your pleasure from your pussy’s lips then wiping off your thighs that happened to be the victims of the heated juices that spread through your body which were shoveled out from the earlier pulls of Elvis’ cock’s head.

After Elvis caught his breath and pulled the panties away from his cock to see his work, then he flipped it toward you, and you saw that familiar white liquid that Elvis told you was a reward for your hard work.

“When we get married and I fill you with my seed, this is what I’ll be fillin’ ya with, I promise…”

Your eyes were lidded and tired, but full of love as you took in the sight of your fiancé, his once perfectly coiffed hair now ruffled, you could see sweat stains forming on the blue silk shirt he didn’t bother to take off before starting, and those eyelashes of his must’ve been batting so much as he now had a stray on his cheek, he must’ve missed it with his scarf.

As Elvis prepped your reward, scraping it off the pastel fabric with a finger you parted your lips, and as he finger-fed you his seed you accepted the finger into your mouth, closing your lips around it as you sucked it clean. “Atta girl, did so well” 

Your own little finger guided up his cheek to swipe the eyelash off his cheek, he watched with confusion at the way you smiled around his finger, then you flipped your finger around to show him.

As he crawled over your body to lay down beside you, removing his finger in the process you spoke with a bit of hoarseness, “Make a wish”

Elvis smiled fondly and put a hand over your thigh, “You can have this one Babylove”

You smiled before checking once more, “Are you sure?”

He wanted to laugh at how serious you were taking it all, and with a gentle rub of his hand he reassured, “I’m sure Honey, I’m sure”

You smiled down at the little eyelash resting on the middle of your index finger. And you wished for all that you could want, you wished for a happy marriage.

I had so much fun!! I really liked writing this, and I'm so happy I've had requests to write this character to the point I can turn it into a whole au!! hope you liked it.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this au feel free to just comment or message me!

@fadedsummerlove, @lialocklear, @astral-eyed-cat here it is lovelies

[atleastpleasetelephone]

hii maybe some morning sex with BDE

A/N: Thanks for the request! I'm not sure if this is exactly what you had in mind but here we go. Thanks to @sissylittlefeather for encouraging me on this one!

Way Down

Pairing: BDE x Reader

Word count: 1.9K

TW: Usual sorts of BDE things - self-esteem issues, impotence, and then smut - oral, fingering, p in v sex, reader calls Elvis daddy, spanking, bratty!reader.

Elvis turns over for the twentieth time. It’s no use. He can’t sleep. Sighing loudly he gets up and pads over to the bathroom. Maybe if he runs himself a bath and relaxes in some nice steamy water for a while he’ll come out feeling ready to sleep. It seems like a long shot, but at least it’s something to do. He’d already re-read The Prophet five times, written several new notes in the margin, ordered a sandwich from the kitchen and eaten it and counted all of the freckles on your face. There’s not much left. 

He sighs again as he sinks down into the hot water, thinking about you. Thinking about the little performance you’d given him earlier, that’s been playing over and over in his head ever since. That’s what has stopped him from getting any rest. He’d come in, ready to get into bed and read and you’d been sitting there, waiting for him. Dressed in his favourite pink babydoll with your hair and make-up all pretty. So far, so good. He’d got under the covers and opened a book and you’d crawled into his lap, all eyes and hair and bright pink lips. Your little hands running down his chest, cute little voice cooing at him. He told you now wasn’t the time, and he was going to read to you. So you settled down, and listened, all cuddled up to him cutely. 

When he was done reading he kissed you on the top of the head and then eased you back under the covers. As he lay down next to you he realised you’d wriggled out of the babydoll, and started to wrap your naked body around him. Your hands were journeying down somewhere he didn’t want them to be, so he firmly told you no, again, and turned over. With his back turned he could hear your tiny sniffles, knew he’d upset you. But somehow he couldn’t turn back and comfort you. Or apologise. He just waited until he heard your breathing getting regular and decided you were probably asleep. And then he started to feel guilty, and he still feels guilty now. He just didn’t want to disappoint you, when inevitably his dick didn’t work like it should. He screws his eyes shut. He should let you go, really. It’s not fair to you, being with half a man like this. But he loves you. And you make him feel less lonely. He sighs for the millionth time. The bath hasn’t helped, he might as well get out. 

He dries himself slowly with a big fluffy towel and then carefully wraps it around his waist. At least some time must have passed by now. Maybe it’s a reasonable time for normal people to be awake. He walks back into the bedroom and looks at the clock. 9am. He hasn’t seen 9am for quite some time. Moving slowly towards the bed, he sees you’ve kicked off the covers. You do this almost every night - put the electric blanket on too high because you’re afraid of being cold, and then kick it off in your sleep. But usually you’re wearing pyjamas. And right now, you’re still naked from that failed attempt at intimacy earlier, and lying on your front with your long brown hair everywhere. His eyes trail down your body until they reach your ass. It looks perfect right now; tanned and round and just begging to be touched. He stands by the side of the bed and stares at it for a while, smiling, thinking about you running about in your skimpy little bikini, your ass and tits just bouncing around.

You huff a little in your sleep and that makes him smile even more. It’s like you’re being bratty even though you’re not awake. Huffing usually got you spanked, and he knows you do it sometimes because you enjoy a good spanking. You’re always dripping afterwards. He starts to feel something stirring below his waist and reaches out to run his fingers over your ass cheek. Your skin is smooth and warm. You grumble a little now and your head moves, eyes slowly opening as he strokes your ass again. Groggy, but enjoying the contact, you shift your legs a little further apart, inviting his fingers to toy with your pussy. Your grumble turns to a soft moan as you feel one of his long digits sliding inside you. It feels so good. His expert touch has you wet in seconds and you turn to look at him as he eases another finger in. 

He’s a little damp from what you assume is a bath - that’s what he usually does when he can’t sleep. His belly pooches over the towel wrapped around his waist a little, his pretty face stares down at you intently and… wait a minute. You blink a few times to try and make sure you’re not having a very vivid dream. No, you’re not dreaming. That towel is tenting. You get up onto your hands and knees and reach for it, pulling it off quickly and revealing his more than half-hard dick. 

“N-no, ah… honey I-” He tries to protest, wanting to wiggle away from you but unwilling to remove his fingers.

You shake your head. “C’mere I wanna suck you.”

He starts to tell you that you can’t do that when he’s not really hard, but all thoughts and words are knocked out of his head by that pretty little mouth of yours wrapping itself around him. 

“Shit,” he mutters, trying to recover enough to keep pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

You’re pleased at his reaction, your hand pulling him into your mouth as you flatten your tongue against the underside. He makes another little pleasured noise, making you feel even more self-satisfied. 

The way his fingers are just slipping in and out of you, the way you’re so wet for him so quickly, your reaction to his floppy dick… everything is just making him more wildly turned on than he’s been in a long time, and he feels himself hardening in your mouth and hand. He puts his other hand in your hair, and you look up at him, lovingly. 

“Baby, can I fuck you?” He asks, voice hoarse with lust. 

You nod and let his dick slide back out of your mouth again, wet with your saliva. 

“How do you want me?”

He groans. In every which way imaginable, he thinks. Instead he just says, “scooch down to the edge of the bed here, on your back.”

You do as you’re told, positively beaming. You like following instructions, and you like being fucked. 

He strokes himself a couple of times and then lines his dick up with your entrance, slowly starting to push inside. You moan together, enjoying something neither of you have felt for a while. As he starts to slowly thrust in and out, he watches your breasts bounce with every movement. Gripping your legs for leverage, he starts to go deeper.

You’re just getting used to the feeling of him filling you up and stretching you out, your pleasure starting to gradually build, when he suddenly lets your legs go and grabs you around your waist, picking you up off the bed and holding you against him. Your legs wrap around him automatically, and at first you think he’s carrying you somewhere else. Then you realise he’s just fucking you standing up instead. You had no idea he was strong enough to do this. You’re pretty small and he’s certainly picked you up and carried you places a few times, but you’d never thought of doing it in this position. He had, though. Lots of times. Especially when you first met. It was an image he’d found hard to get out of his mind, but somehow he’d never had the guts to try it. Well, not until this sleep-deprived morning with the first hard-on he’s had for a long time, when it suddenly seems like a good idea. 

You hang on tightly around his neck as his hands grip under your ass and his hips buck up into you furiously. You didn’t expect it to feel so good, he’s hitting somewhere inside that you really like and you can feel your pleasure building again. Also, it doesn’t hurt that it seems like he’s throwing you around like a ragdoll. You briefly wonder what came over him this morning that didn’t last night, and then he pulls you off him and back onto the bed again. 

You whine. “Mmm Daddy. I was close!”

Your reaction just makes him grin, and he wonders how much longer he can do this for. He stands over you, dick red and rock hard, face flushed and hair a little wild. He hasn’t felt this good in quite a while. 

“Turn over. No more whining.”

You lie back on your stomach again but the brat in you can’t resist another little whine. He shakes his head with a smirk and slaps your ass a few times. 

“Told ya not to whine, bratty little thing.”

You’re not sure what noises you’re making by the time he starts to fuck you again, fingers gripping your hips as he pulls you back onto him with every thrust. They’re definitely pretty frustrated when he pulls out before you can cum, and tells you to turn back over. 

“Please,” you moan, your pussy red and puffy and desperate to cum. 

He laughs. “Alright. I’m getting tired.” Sitting down on the bed, back against the headrest, he lets his head fall back and his eyes half close. “Come and ride this old man ‘til ya cum all over his dick.”

You can’t get there fast enough. He’s laughing at your eagerness, and then you pout and he kisses you tenderly as you settle back onto him again, your hips rolling. He moans into your mouth as you ride him mercilessly, bouncing up and down and pulling his hair. Finally you’re there, tumbling over the edge into oblivion, fingers entwined around the back of his neck as you throw your head back and moan. 

Your walls squeeze him like a vice and he throws his head back too, big hands taking up most of your back as he keeps bucking his hips into you until he cums. The feeling of euphoria hits him and he gathers you up into his arms, holding you tightly against him as he savours it. You bury your head in his neck and kiss him there, enjoying how he smells - clean with the slightest hint of fresh sweat.

You snuggle into him afterwards, your head on his belly as he drifts off finally into a peaceful sleep. You know you’re awake now for the duration, but you don’t mind. For a change he didn’t put his pyjamas back on, so you plan on spending the next few hours studying his body. Who knows when you’ll get another chance.

As the two of you panted together in each other’s arms, you’d asked him what had made him change his mind. He didn’t really have an answer at first, but then when he thought about it, it became clear. 

“I realised how much you love me, baby.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog

[presleyslilbaby]

~Sweet As Pie~

~Prologue~

(70’s!Elvis X OC)

"Gianna! It's time to wake up!" Gianna's Mother Marie called from downstairs, urging her to wake up early enough to avoid being lazy. She stirred awake, groaning as she reached over for her glasses that unsurprisingly enough weren't on her bedside table.

Of course.

With another groan, much more annoyedly than the last, she sat up fully in bed before searching for those damned glasses. "I'd really like to see today." She muttered beneath her breath, checking behind the table to find that her glasses had indeed fallen. "There you are. You're nothing but trouble, I say." Gianna huffed out a breath of air, stretching her arm out to reach behind the hunk of wood, a scowl present on her lips. Finally, she managed to brush her fingers over the lenses, cringing at the smudge she left.

Grabbing them by the bridge, she pulled them out and began to frantically clean them, muttering about not wanting to be like her older Sisters or another. She hated anything that got onto her lenses. Absolutely loathed it, even so much as the idea of something on them. She preferred clean, well cared-for glasses lenses.

Regardless of her preferences, Gianna swung her legs over the side of her bed, the broken down mattress dipping beneath her weight, the bedframe creaking. She's had this thing since she was eleven. Though she wished for a better mattress that wouldn't cause kinks in her muscles damn near every night she went to bed, she knew that her Parents didn't have the proper funds to purchase one. She wouldn't ever complain aloud, though. She didn't want them feeling less-than.

Rising from her bed, she sauntered over to her dresser, pulling out a simple pair of blue jeans, and a white floral blouse, grabbing a new pair of undergarments as well. Undressing herself from her pyjamas, Gianna looked at herself in the mirror for a few moments too long, a frown pulling at her lips.

"God, I look terrible..." She muttered beneath her breath, grabbing at her pudgy belly and her heavy thighs. "It's because you're Italian, Baby." Her Mother would always tell her, claiming that her heritage caused the fat on her body that she loathed. Sometimes she felt beautiful. But very rarely. How could she expect her reflection to change? Looking away from her mirror, she began to dress, the self-deprecating thoughts lingering in her mind, plaguing her once again.

After dressing, Gianna brushed out her Brown hair, and finally headed downstairs to greet the rest of her Family. Marie was setting the table with breakfast, although Gianna would be the only one to attend aside from her Father Jude who was already digging in to his food.

"Morning." She greeted, pulling out her usual chair before sitting down, glancing up at her Mother whom in which sat down herself. "Good morning, Gigi." She greeted back with a loving smile. "Your Sisters are still asleep, as usual." She had added. Gianna hummed, pulling her plate closer to herself as she reached for the pepper-shaker. "Maybe if they stopped staying up all night, they wouldn't be so tired." She mumbled, clearly annoyed with her older Sisters staying up late on purpose to sleep most of the day away while she had to do most of the work alongside her Mother and Father. "I'll have to have a talk with them today." "Again." She added on to her Mother's reply, shyly digging in to her own food.

Marie hums herself, giving a small sigh as she shakes her head to dispel the thought of her older Daughters being so lazy. "Anyways," She starts. "Are you ready to help Mrs. Huntley today?" Gianna nodded, though she knew for a fact that she was never good with people and always became anxious around anyone who hadn't been in her inner circle.

Hell, she didn't even have any friends. She was lonely.

"Yeah, I suppose I am." She responds politely regardless of how she felt. Looking over to her Father, she spoke. "You going to work soon, Dad?" She wondered. He looked up from his plate, nodding before wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Mhm. Called me in to fill an empty position. I have to go in about..." Jude peered down at his wristwatch. "Thirty minutes, or so." "Give or take." Marie said, adding on, "I prefer if you get there about three minutes early - You know how David is."

As her Parents spoke about work, and topics similar, Gianna practically tuned them out, focusing on her breakfast. Despite having turned eighteen a few months back, she didn't exactly understand much about 'grown-up topics'. No matter how many times it was explained to her, she just couldn't seem to grasp it. It made her feel like shit.

Hours had passed, and Gianna had finished running errands for her elderly neighbour Mrs. Huntley, keeping her company for a little while longer before deciding to go for a walk. Her head had been so full lately, and she wanted to clear her mind, and desperately, too. As she walked down along the pavement, her brown eyes casted downwards, she allowed herself to destress, to take in the environment.

However, due to her lack of attention, she had wound up bumping into somebody, gasping as she felt herself falling backwards, squeezing her eyes shut. Suddenly, she was caught by the strong arms of the stranger, dipped downwards.

"You alright, Darlin'?" The stranger asked, his voice smooth and lilted with a beautiful Southern accent. She opens her eyes, only to lock her gaze with the strangers'.

Elvis Aaron Presley.

Gianna's face immediately flushed a bright red, her heart pounding fast in her chest. How could she be so careless...? "...Y-...Y-Yes, Sir..." She whispered bashfully, allowing him to pull her upright. "Forgive me, Honey. I wasn't watchin' where I was goin'." Elvis apologises. "N-N-No-! U-Uh- I-It's not your fault...! I-I-I should've been paying attention...!" She takes the blame, tucking her hair nervously behind her ear, holding her arms close to her body in attempts to shield her pudge from his gaze. "Mm, no worries. You don't have to take the blame, Miss...?"

Oh god...He was asking for her name...

"G-Gianna..." She spoke with a slight voice-crack, cringing internally as her face flushed hotter from the added embarrassment. He smiles at her so warmly, sending butterflies fluttering about in her stomach. "Well, Gianna," Her name rolled off his tongue so beautifully. "You don't need to worry, Sweetheart. But that's a mighty beautiful name. Italian?"

She hated how fucking cliche this all was.

"Y-Yes, Sir...I-I'm uh...Fourth generation Italian..." Gianna responded, still replying in a polite manner. "Aw, Honey, you can drop the 'Sir'. 'Elvis' would do just fine." Elvis smiled once more, clearly finding her bashfulness endearing. "O-O-Okay..." Could she stop stuttering for one second? "I uh...I-I-I need to go...Ch-Chores, you know...?" She awkwardly chuckled, taking a step back. "Hm? Oh, that's perfectly fine. You take care now, you hear?" He bowed his head slightly in understanding, watching her take a few more steps back. "U-U-Uh- Y-You too-!" With that awkward farewell, Gianna began to walk the way she came from, her mind reeling from the interaction she'd just had.

She couldn't wait to go home and tell her Family about it.

[wanderingelvis]

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

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

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

word count: 2,508

pairing: 70s elvis x fem reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you settled on getting Elvis a cupcake. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, over here!”

“Is it true Elvis dresses you?”

“Does Elvis control you?”

“Are you really a virgin?” 

“Would ya sign this for me?”

“Who did you screw to get with Elvis?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’okay baby,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s right darlin’.” 

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

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

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

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

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

Constantly. 

[lustnhim]

’ poor thing. ‘ — dom! elvis x fem! reader

note: requested / warnings: MDNI, virgin reader, innocence kink, legal age gap, fingering, p in v sex, no protection, elvis makes you taste yourself, praise and slight degrading, slight humiliation, pwp, religious stuff. / summary: elvis catches you grinding on his pillow.

Your body rutted against his pillow, the cotton fabric of your panties colliding with the satin pillowcase, desperate for any more friction you gripped the front, pushing the pillow upwards onto yourself. Breathing heavily as the heat between your legs only grew stronger, your mind foggy from the overwhelming arousal. You had never ever done something like this, something so dirty, so sinful. The cross hung between your neck, moving in unison with your thrusts, you gripped it gently in your hand, almost on the verge of tears. It was so wrong, but felt so good. You tried to hurry, but you knew it wouldn’t be long before your parents noticed your absence from the backyard, before they would ask Elvis if he had seen their daughter– Your mind drifted shamefully to Elvis, your movement becoming more desperate. His strong hands, his carefully tousled hair, his pretty eyes, his laugh, his smile. God. 

As you mindlessly continued to grind on the pillow, chasing your orgasm. Your heart stopped when you heard the soft creak of the bedroom door opening and the gentle thud of boots hitting the floor. You pulled the pillow out from under you quickly,  tossing it across the bed. Trembling, you clung to the cross around your neck, your eyes wide and fearful, there standing in the doorway was an obviously amused Elvis. You choked back tears as you tried to speak, only small noises coming out. “You like that pilla’ honey?”  He drawled and you bit your lip, trying not to cry. He had seen you, but you already knew that. It was impossible he didn't. "Please don't be mad," you whispered, your voice trembling with fear.”D-don’t tell my parents-”  You cried out, your voice weak and shaking. He walked towards you, his footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. The air around you thickened with fear as he drew near. “I won’t say nothin’-” Elvis coos, coming down to sit on the bed with you. Chuckling softly as he looked at the pillow. “You should know better, than ta’ do that, honey,” Elvis says, picking up your hands and holding them gently. “The good lord says self-pleasure’s a sin…especially if you’re lusting over somethin’,” Elvis says, causing you to break down a bit. Tears fell down your face as he tsked, moving one hand off yours and to your face, wiping a few tears off with his thumb. 

Your gaze moved to the floor, you couldn’t bear to look him in his eyes, his pretty blue eyes…You shook your head in embarrassment and shame, the tears having yet to slow. Elvis's hand cradled your cheek, his touch gentle and understanding. "Don't cry, honey," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Look at me." He whispered, raising your head and looking at him you pouted. When your eyes met him, he gave you a reassuring smile. "I won't tell your parents," He said, taking his hands off your face and wrapping them around your waist, pulling you into a hug. You rested your head gently against his chest, a few stray tears falling onto his chest. “But you ain’t ‘sposed to do that…you need someone to help you,” Elvis said, grabbing your legs and pulling them onto his lap, allowing you to wrap your legs around him. “H-how..?” You asked, your face still red from crying. “Well honey, a man can make ya feel just as good…” He says, his hands running through your hair. “Really?”

You ask, and Elvis nods. “Mhm, that’s right Angel.” Elvis's lips pressed against your forehead, a tender gesture that sent shivers down your spine. "You gotta trust me," he whispered, guiding your hands off his chest to between your legs. "Can you touch there fa’ me?" He asks, his tone gentle. Nodding hesitantly, you slowly brought your hands down, your fingers along your panties, you could feel your wetness through the fabric. A blush bloomed on your cheeks, your eyes downcast as you began to rub your clit. Elvis's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. “That how you usually do it?” Elvis asked, his hands resting on your hips. You look up at him, your face flushed, “I don’t- I don’t really do it..” You say, biting your lip out of embarrassment. 

“Well, lemme try this,” Elvis suggests, replacing your hand with his, causing you to let out a breathy groan. Elvis massaged your clit, your back arching gently as his fingers worked. You felt him stop and you groaned out in disappointment. "Don’t worry, we’re just gonna take these off real quick, honey,” he said, noticing your disappointment. You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut, as you worked your body to get them off. “So pretty…” Elvis cooed, running his finger across your slit. You whimpered out as he began to work, rubbing your clit gently before taking a finger and gently putting it inside. “Ah!” You groaned, the feeling completely foreign to you. “Calm down, honey…Don’t want anyone to hear us..” He says, moving his finger in and out gently, allowing you to adjust. “So tight..” He groaned, slipping in another finger. Covering your mouth you moaned into your hand, trying to keep your eyes closed. Elvis pumped in and out in a slow rhythm. "See, a man can make it better, can't he?" he teased, his thumb continuing to apply pressure to your swollen clit. You leaned into his touch, your muffled moans growing louder. "You're such a filthy little slut," Elvis praised, his grip tightening on your hips. "Imagine what your parents would think?" His words sent shivers down your spine, and you felt a sensation growing in your stomach. Pulling your hand off your mouth you cried, “M’ gonna c-cum..” You stammered, your heart racing as you felt your orgasm nearing. "Beg for me to make you cum, angel." You whimpered, your cheeks hot with embarrassment and arousal. "Please... m-make me cum, Elvis..." you begged, your voice breathless. Elvis smirked, his pace picking up. "Keep going honey," he demanded. "P-please, please Elvis, m-make me cum!" you cried out, your body arching into his hands. Elvis chuckled, his fingers increasing their pace. The room filled with your moans as he brought you closer and closer to your climax. "That's it, baby, cum for me," he encouraged. You whimpered as your climax coated his fingers, feeling the high overtake your body as he withdrew his fingers. Your eyes stayed closed as you felt him shuffle beneath you. “Open your mouth, baby.” He murmured, as you opened your mouth lazily, feeling him gently put the two fingers on your tongue. “Taste it.” You demanded, opening your eyes you looked at him as you closed your mouth around his fingers, sucking on them before he pulled them out with a small pop. “Fuck..” He groaned, taking one of your hands and pressing against the bulge in his jeans. “Feel that?” He asked, moving your hand along his clothed cock. “That’s all you baby.”

Elvis undid his belt and motioned your hand away, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down along with his boxers, his cock freeing itself from the confinement, standing at full attention. "Touch it, baby," he said, his voice thick with lust. You hesitated, unsure of what to really do. "It's okay, Angel," Elvis cooed, guiding your hand to his thick shaft. You wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the veins pulsing beneath the skin. You tentatively began to stroke him, trying to be gentle as you were scared to hurt him. "Little bit harder and faster, honey." he groaned, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip. You obeyed, his moans growing louder as you gripped him a bit harder, your pace quickening. "Doin’ so good…" Elvis praises, bucking into your hand gently. Elvis pushed you farther down onto his lap as you released his cock, “Lean up, baby.” Elvis said as you raised yourself up a bit. He gripped his cock with one hand and lined you up with the other. “This gonna hurt a bit…” He warns as he begins to push you down onto him. Your breathing is ragged as you feel the head of his cock prod your entrance. Pushing you down further you feel his tip pop inside, your back arches as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s okay, honey…It’ll be okay.” He coos as he sinks himself into you.

“You’re squeezing me, honey…” He warns as you try to relax. “I-It hurts..” You whine, trying to get used to it. “I know baby…you just gotta relax darling.” He says, running his hand across your back, trying to calm you. Taking a deep breath you relaxed and felt him slide deeper in you, making you cry out. Shushing you gently he stayed still for a moment. "Let me ease you in," he whispers, taking you slow, inch by agonizing inch. "God, you're so tight. You're perfect, baby." Each thrust is slow and deep, designed to stretch you gently, to give you time to adjust. You're nothing but a whimpering mess, your nails digging into his back. "I’ve got you, Angel. Just breathe." His deep voice is a soothing balm, easing your fears and helping you center yourself. Eventually, you find a rhythm. Each thrust is met with a small gasp, his cock filling you completely. .He starts to pick up the pace, his hips moving faster, causing your own body to move in tandem, grinding against his lap. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he moans, his grip tightening on your hips. You could feel your body starting to submit to the pleasure, the pain slowly dissolving in the haze of lust.  "Elvis…" You whimpered, your voice breaking as he continued to fuck you. You felt his grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts grow more aggressive, the pace increasing. "You like that, baby?" Elvis grunted between thrusts, your eyes locking with his. "Y-yes, Elvis, please don't stop." You moaned, your voice trembling. Elvis smirked, his eyes filled with lust as he continued to pound into you. The pleasure grew, your body responding to the rhythmic motion. "You feel so fucking good, Angel. I'm gonna cum inside you." He warned, his grip on your hips growing harsh. You cried out, your body trembling as you clung to him. The room was filled with the sounds of flesh colliding, the bed creaking beneath you. He growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

Pushing the thoughts of sin from your mind, you focused on the pleasure that was building within you. Elvis's cock filled you, his thrusts growing harder. You could feel the intensity growing, as both of you drew closer to your climax. Your body tensed, the pleasure overwhelming, and then it happened. You screamed, arching into him as an orgasm ripped through your body, your inner muscles clenching around him. "Fuck!!" Elvis roared, his own orgasm hitting him hard, his cock pulsing inside you as thick ropes of cum coated your walls. He held you close, his breathing heavy as he rode out the wave with you. Your vision blurry, you clung to him, the aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through your veins. You collapsed back onto him, his still half-hard cock slipping out of you.

Exhausted, you lay there with him, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "You're something else, you know that?." He whispered, kissing the top of your head. “Now that honey is God's will…” He said, smiling gently You nodded, too spent to even speak. “We better hurry and get back downstairs, your parents are waitin’ and so is everybody else,” Elvis said, starting to get up but you impulsively grabbed his arm. “You ain’t gonna tell anyone right?” You asked him, scanning his face for any sign of malice. “No honey, I won’t tell.” He said, laying back down on the bed with you, his face gentle. Cupping your face gently he smiled. 

“It’s gonna be our little secret.”

my fantasy fr thanks anon for requesting i am so happy 😭🫶

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[presley4president]

I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS I LOVE ELVIS