#Elvis smut

[beaumusi]

oh sweet tenderness . . .

— elvis presley x f!reader

notes ; first time writing smut, aye. lmk if it’s good—i have mixed feelings about it—and it’s really short, i’m sorry, so sorry, 💔.

the sensation of elvis’ red weeping tip dragging ever so gently across your pink slit, the feeling of such tenderness was ever so wonderful, oh how you had missed this–him, together, fitting like a perfect puzzle piece. there was nothing more remarkable than this; the two of you tangled in that soft way, embracing each other.

he continued to rub himself with your shared slickness, the arousal building with each hit and rub of his tip against your folds, from that; you had twitched with excitement, swaying your little hips in an attempt to make a better movement and friction of him slightly teasing you. the nerves in your body were on fire as you waited for more, hoping for more, desperate for more of him. but frustration overcame you, and then huffed in annoyance.

“oh won’t yah stop that!” you had squealed in disappointment, frowning slightly as he smiled his boyish grin–the one he was so famous for, so handsome. he knew exactly what he was doing, teasing and toying with you until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

he then stopped his ministrations and grabbed under your right thigh, hooking the one over his broad shoulder, opening you to him, and you blushed in embarrassment as he had a perfect view of the glistening folds. you were exposed and vulnerable, taken by surprise at the smooth action of his hand lifting you into position, and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks.

from the view alone of your pretty cunt, he almost, just almost came.

he then grinned cheekily, the mischief in his eyes so unmistakable, lining his pretty cock up to the slippery and glistening entrance—how he teased at your weeping hole. he knew he was coy and teasing, nudging forward as if reluctant to give you what you craved so desperately, but then he so very gently pushed the tip past your glistening folds and into your tiny hole, a deliberate slowness that made you ache. it was just the tip, just the beginning, but you wanted more, oh so much more. you were left throbbing with impatience, your desire consuming every nerve, every thought.

you squeezed around him, so tight that he squealed, a sound more girlish than he'd ever imagined would escape his pillowy lips, “o-oh hun, you can’t uh- jus’ grip me like tha-,” but the sudden tightness, the intoxicating feel of being wrapped in your slickness & velvet walls made his voice crack and left him breathless. he swallowed a low groan only to be taken by surprise at the intensity of it, letting out a loud moan as his body jerked forward. you moved your hips with need, rotating in a circle, trying to milk him with your movement.

you then grabbed his lean back, your fingers pressing into his skin, and pushed him ever so gently into you. you urged him on, relentless and wanting. your entire body yearned for him as you enveloped him, swallowing him completely, and you squealed at the mix of discomfort and pleasure. he knew the exact spot to hit inside you, making the pain morph into a pleasure so overwhelming you thought you would explode.

you bit down on your lower lip, then brought your little hands to your mouth, the urgency and want making you bite onto the back of your hand as he moved in you so slowly, each thrust deliberate but steady. he had a rhythm, a pace that felt both excruciating and electrifying. you whimpered, the sound filling the room, a sinful moan so pornographically coming from your plump lips…

[presleyverse]

𝕁𝕖𝕥𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤

Tags/Warnings: 1974!Elvis, angst, hurt/comfort (eventually), mention of Graceland, impulsive behavior, stubborn Elvis 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙 𝕠𝕗 𝟚

The slam of the front door echoed through the halls of Graceland loudly, “Elvis Aaron Presley, don’t you dare walk away from me!” you shout, the silk of your robe billowing as you stumble onto the pavement, heels clicking wildly on the stone. “I swear to God, you turn around right now!”

But he doesn’t.He’s halfway down the driveway, striding with furious purpose toward his private jet, the Lisa Marie, glowing like a silver ghost in the dark.

“Elvis!”

No answer. You chased after him anyway, breath catching from rage and heartbreak. “You always do this! You run off, you hide in that damn plane like it can fix things!”

He paused at the foot of the stairs. Your voice cracked. “You get on that plane, and I swear to you—I’m done. I’ll leave. Graceland, all of it. I won’t be here when you get back.”

His hand tightened on the railing.

Silence.

Just complete silence. He turned his head, just slightly, just enough to let you know he heard. But he doesn’t say a word. He boarded anyway.

The engines didn't start—yet. You stand there, trembling in your heels, watching the shadow of him vanish into the belly of that bird. And you wonder if he’s calling your bluff—or if you just shattered something that can’t be put back together.

You wait. Minutes pass. The engines growl to life, a deep rumble that vibrates in your chest. You don’t move. You can’t. You just stand there in your robe and heels, staring up at the glowing windows of the Lisa Marie like maybe, just maybe, he’ll step back out. Change his mind.

He doesn't. He won't.

The plane taxis, smooth and slow, then takes off into the velvet sky—silver wings slicing through the clouds.

Your arms wrapped around yourself as the warm night suddenly feels cold. You swallow down the lump rising in your throat, chest burning. You’d thought the words would stop him. You thought the threat of leaving Graceland—leaving him—would be enough. Apparently not.

Maybe he didn’t believe you. Maybe he’s calling your bluff. Or maybe��� maybe he just didn’t care as much as you hoped he did. You turned and walked back up the driveway, the pavement biting through your heels, your steps slower now, heavier. Inside, the house was quiet. Too quiet.

You pass the living room, the dining room, the piano he barely touched lately. Everything felt hollow. Elvis could fill a room without even trying, but without him, Graceland feels like a ghost town.

You end up in your shared bedroom, falling onto the bed without bothering to take off your shoes. His cologne still lingers on the sheets. Tears finally come, hot and silent, slipping down your cheeks and onto the pillow. You tried to tell yourself you don’t care. That he can stay gone. But God, he took the air with him when he left, but you were true to your word and you got up from the bed and began packing all your belongings.

--

The Lisa Marie touched down just past midnight, wheels kissing the Memphis tarmac like a secret apology. Elvis didn't wait for the steps to be lowered. He’s already pacing before his boots hit the driveway. The heat from the earlier argument still simmers beneath his skin, but now it’s mixed with something colder—something sharper.

Regret. He pushes through the front doors of Graceland, calling for you. No answer. Upstairs, the bedroom is dark. Empty. The robe you’d been wearing is folded neatly on the edge of the bed. Your heels are gone.

His stomach drops. “Honey?” His voice cracked. He checked the bathroom. The closet. The music room. The kitchen. Nothing.

You left. You actually left. He stood in the doorway of the bedroom, one hand braced against the frame, breathing hard. The air feels thinner without you in it.He thought you were bluffing.

You always yelled, always threatened. But this time… This time you meant it. And now? Now he stood in a silent house filled with gold records and ghosts, replaying the sound of your voice—furious, trembling, full of hurt—as it echoed down the driveway hours ago. And the worst part?

He doesn’t know if you were ever coming back.

[sissylittlefeather]

Kink Madness Masterlist

I will collect all of the first round match ups here for future reading!

Round 1: Overstimulation vs Sensory Deprivation

Winner: Overstimulation!

******

Round 2: Impact Play vs Bondage

Winner: Bondage!

******

Round 3: Flashing vs Voyeurism

Winner: ??

******

[epsdoll]

Can you write early 70s Elvis smut? If possible can he be a sub?

a/n : hi anon !! thanks for your request !! sorry this is like TOO short but i didn't have any "plot" in mind, and ur request wasn't detailed :( so, hope u like it angel !! mwah xx

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘

pairing : 70s!sub!Elvis Presley x dom!FEM!Reader

triggers/warnings : p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, mention of slight overstimulation, sub/dom dinamics

Your thighs burn with the effort, but you don’t stop. You won’t. Not when Elvis looks like this. With his head thrown back, eyes fluttering, jaw slack, sweat gleaming on his chest in the low light. His hands are digging into your hips like he’s trying to tether himself to reality.

He's just so pretty.

He’s so deep inside of your clenching walls it’s obscene, your moans echo every time you slide down the full length of him. Thick and hot and pulsing inside you, twitching like he’s already on the edge. And you haven’t let him go anywhere near it yet.

“Please—honey, I—I can’t, I’m gonna—” he gasps, the words catching in his throat like they hurt to say.

You press your palm flat against his chest and pushing him down onto the mattress further. “Shh,” you soothe, rolling your hips, slow and deliberate. You feel every inch of him dragging against your walls, your slick making it easy to slide—wet, filthy sounds echoing in the space between your bodies.

“You’re bein’ such a good boy,” you purr, leaning forward to brush sweaty hair from his face. His breath hitches when your fingers run through it, when your nails lightly graze his scalp. He whimpers—whimpers—and it shoots straight through you.

"Your cock feels so good, El," you murmur. "But I wanna hear how bad you need it. Tell me."

His hips twitch up involuntarily, driving himself deeper. He’s a mess, eyes unfocused, face flushed, mouth working but barely forming words.

“Need it—fuck, I need it so bad,” he babbles, voice cracking as his thighs shake beneath you. “I been holdin’ it—don’t think I can—can’t—please, lemme come, honey, please."

You clench around him on purpose and he howls, hips jerking up hard enough to bounce you. But your hands are on his chest again, holding him down, keeping him under you, under control.

“Just hang on, baby.” you whisper. “You don’t come until I say. You wanna be good, don’t you?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—your good boy, I am, I am, I’ll be good, I swear—” His voice breaks off into a sob, and you swear you feel his cock throb harder, soaked in your slick, so damn hard it’s twitching inside you with every beat of his heart.

You watch him tremble, every muscle drawn tight like a bowstring. His hands are gripping you like iron vices, and you revel in the thought of him leaving bruises along your hips and thighs.

And you know he’s at the edge—has been there for a while. He’s panting, moaning through clenched teeth, his cock stretching your walls perfectly as it twitches inside of you.

So close. So damn close.

You slow down to a grind, hips circling, pressing your clit against the base of him. His head drops back with a raw groan. “Please,” he begs again, voice wrecked, throat gone.

“Okay, big boy.” you whisper. “I wanna feel it. Let me have it, Elvis. Come inside me."

And just like that, he breaks.

His whole body arches off the bed, back bowed, a strangled cry ripped from his chest as he finally, finally spills inside you: hot, thick pulses flooding you so deep you feel it in your gut. His cock jerks hard with each wave, and his hands grip you even harder than before.

“F-fuck—fuck—” he chokes, forehead pressed to your chest now, tears prickling the corners of his eyes from the sheer force of it. He’s blubbering again, incoherent, whispering your name like a prayer between broken breaths.

You stroke his hair, slow and gentle, grounding him while he comes down. His heart’s beating so fast against your body, his chest rising and falling like he’s just survived something.

You press a kiss to his temple. “That’s it,” you murmur. “Feels so good, you're so good, El. Settle, settle, shh...”

And all he can do is nod, eyes closed, arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go.

[elvissfav]

Does anyone have any good Elvis Fanfic requests for me? I need some haha 😭😭

(The other post I posted asking this got deleted. 💔)

[lillyrob]

Actual footage of me patently waiting for my favorite author to upload😫😫😫

[voxmortuus]

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Dom!Benny Cross x Sub!F!Reader

⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Bikeriders

⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 3k

⇘ SUMMARY:⇙ Seems you've found yourself in a rather unique situation. You've known Benny for a long while, but you always felt a little out of his league, whatever league that may be, it just didn't feel like you were good enough for him. The thing is, you're just what he's looking for. You've got a lot of love to give, a heart on your sleeve, and a loyalty that is stronger than a dog. He wants you, but he wants you specifically. He wants you to be his old lady, he wants you to be his ride or die. Once he gets you alone though, the patches stay on, and things get a little far from vanilla.

⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Language | Smoking | Smut | Some BDSMesque Scenes | Dom!Benny | Kissing | Face Smacking | Boot on Face | Hair Pulling | Fingering | Hand job | Oral (M) | Face fucking | Guided Masturbation | Benny Masturbating | Begging | Facial | These are in no particular order! PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

⇘ NOTES:⇙ I hope this brings you some joy.

⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa

⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa

⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

Was it happenstance, or was it planned that he happened to show up today? Handing the beer over the counter, you lean against the bar, and you smile the sweetest smile you've got in you.

"Well shit, if it ain't Benny Cross. How long has it been?" You asked. Benny looked up at you as he walked in, giving you that same crooked grin he always walked around with. He gave a slight chuckle.

"Well, no shit. It's been, what, almost 7 years?" He asked you. You nod your head and chuckle a bit.

"Yeah, somethin' like that." you smirk and look down at the bar top.

It had been what feels like forever. It feels like you haven't seen him in ages, and truth be told, it had been ages. Seven whole ages, as a matter of fact. Smirking, he looks over you as he approaches the bar. Looking over his face, you smile, and a soft blush graces your cheeks, causing you to feel warm. Letting out a soft, shaky breath, you glance around, realizing that no one else was there in the bar, but you knew that wasn't going to last too long. How do you even say what you think you need to say. You groan, and you sigh and decide not to say anything.

As the night went on, the two of you mingled and caught up. He learned quite a bit about you, just as much as you learned about him. You learned quite a bit, and he learned just as much. However, you learned something that he didn't tell you either, he had always liked you. Well fuck. Upon closing up the bar, you look at him and shake your head.

"Benny, I've always had a thing for you. I always thought you were too good for me. Outta my fuckin league." you state honestly.

Benny stopped and stared at you. "Outta my league? No, no. I felt you were outta mine. Let me ask you this... you still want me?"

"I've always wanted you... that never changed, never after all these years." you admit.

He looks at you and runs his hand over his face. Nodding his head, he looks back toward the door. Looking back at you, he walks to the door and locks it. "Come here." he points to the ground in front of him.

Lifting a well-manicured and well-defined brow, you walk to him and stand in front of him. You look over that face, that handsome, perfectly chiseled face, and you lose yourself all over again. Why? Why, when you are around him, he makes you feel so... weak. He makes you feel so... dead-brained.

Walking to you, he sticks a finger under your chin and forces you to look up at him. A thought crosses his mind, an urge.

"I want you to prove to me how much you want me." He tells you, his voice drops an octave as he watches you.

"How do you want me to do that Benny? Just say the word and you got it." You state.

"Strip, then lay flat, face down on the floor." He states.

Okay, so that was NOT what you had expected. Blinking a few times, you don't hesitate, and you do just that. Stripping down, you fold your clothes and place them to the side, and you lower yourself to the floor. Biting your lower lip, you listen as he paces around you, observing you, taking in your figure, your heartbeat picks up in anticipation as you watch his boots come into view, and he stops and looks down at you.

Benny lights a cigarette and takes a long drag from it. Watching you as you lay there, he runs his free hand through his hair and then over his facial hair for a moment. Smirking, he takes a few steps closer to you and kneels down a moment, a hand dangling between his legs.

"So, you've gone this whole time not sayin anything. All because you felt I was out of your league... You know Darlin' if you had said anything, you may have learned a thing or two about how I felt. Maybe you need to be punished for that, huh? Teach you how to speak your mind? Make you beg for my attention now?" he stated.

Why did that make your cunt tingle? Make you hot? And why the fuck did that sound like such a good idea coming from him? You nod softly.

"No, I want you to say it." He stated firmly as he took a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke bellow above him as he exhaled.

"Yes. Punish me, teach me to speak my mind... make me... beg." You state. Your eyes look at his boots, and your fingers press into the floor as they are stretched out to your sides.

Standing up, he looks ahead of him, out the window of the bar, and smirks. He leans against the pool table, thinking of ways to punish you. Looking at your figure as you are sprawled out against the floor, so many things come to mind.

Standing back up from leaning, he pushes himself from the pool table and walks to you. He places his right boot on the side of your head. Not stepping, but applying just enough pressure for it to feel -- oddly comfortable. Your fingers press into the floor as you gasp. Why are you feeling this right now? Feeling these... feelings push through your thoughts. You bite your lip, and you let out a slow breath.

"Now, I've been thinking, since walking into this place, since we started talking, reminiscing about the past. I have been thinking about how things could go. About how we could have been together this whole time. But now, now I see the kind of girl you really are. I won't lie, Darlin'... kinda revs me up a bit. Eager to please." he mused a moment.

Looking down at you, he tilts his head, a sight for sore eyes, and fuck did he enjoy the view. Licking his lips, he took another drag from his smoke before he reached over to a close by table and tapped the ashes into an ashtray he had. With your head under his boot, he looks over the rest of your body. Leaning over with a smoke between his lips, his fingers run down the length of your spine. Feeling your flesh under his fingers.

"Soft to the touch." he pointed out.

Standing back up, he moved away from you, leaving you to bite your lip and almost ask for more. But instead, he reached down, grabbed your hair, and moved you to a standing position. You guided yourself with ease, and there was this deeper part of you that also enjoyed that. "What is wrong with me?" you asked yourself.

Moving you to sit in a chair, he spreads your legs apart. Looking over you, he licks his lips.

"Hands on your thighs, don't move them." He demands.

You nod in agreement. He wasn't going to demand the 'Sir' word just yet, but holy fuck was he going to enjoy it when it happened.

"Now I'm going to ask you a question, either say yes or say no. It's that simple. Got it?"

"Yes. I understand."

"Good. I'm going to hurt you, but it's not because I want to hurt you, it's because well... I want to see you in a different light, and because I enjoy it. Do you consent?" he looks over your face.

Taking a moment to understand, you've read some raunchy trashy books, so you knew not to compare the two, you weren't that naïve. You draw in a breath and you nod. "Yes. I consent." you finally state.

With a smirk across his lips, he nods. "Good girl. So long I've wanted to do this to you." He stated as he put his smoke out.

Walking behind the bar, he went to wash his hands, took a swig off a whiskey bottle, and made his way back toward you. Standing in front of you, he tilts his head. With a firm hand, he looks at you and throws it across your face. At first, you gasp, you close your eyes, your head whipped to the side. You whimper, not sure how to feel about it. You look to the ground, but he takes your chin and forces you to look back at him, and he smiles. Giving you a wink, and that's when you feel this sense of calm wash over you. It's like this switch was flipped in your mind. Submissive mode on... more so than before.

You didn't dislike the feeling on your skin, a hot sting. He brought his hand back, and it met your face again. Quickly moving to grab your chin, he leaned in and kissed your lips softly.

"Atta girl." he praised.

You felt this bubble of excitement rise inside you. It was this rush that moved through your veins like a hot liquid. Bubbling at the surface, wanting more.

"More, please." You ask.

He was happy to oblige. A little harder, be clipped your lip, but you didn't mind. The coppery taste on your tongue was sort of pleasant, a welcomed gift. You smile looking up at him. He looked at you, almost worried, but yet oddly calm. He smirked, leaning in he kissed you again, nipping at your now swollen lip. You feel your lower lips clench and quiver with want. Your breath was shaky against his lips.

His hand moves down your torso, moving to grip a breast before his hand moves down your apex right to your core. Your breath, staggered, your heart, pounding, your mind, stupid. You clench your lower walls and bite your lip, watching him, feeling him, desiring and needing him. You whimper. His fingers hover, and the heat from his flesh kisses your warm, swollen, needy bud.

When he finally brings his fingers to touch you, you gasp. You lock eyes with him, studying his baby blues as he begins to work your little swollen bundle of nerves. His free hand moves to jerk your head back by pulling your hair, as he hovers over you. His legs pressed against yours spreading your legs further as he worked you, exposing you to the pool table behind him.

But it was when he slid his fingers into you that your mind went more stupid. You let out a heavy moan as your eyes flutter, feeling his fingers work you. Leaning back in the chair, you let him take complete control, as he desired, and your body was no longer your own, and you were far from upset with that idea.

His fingers were like magic, but suddenly that all came to a stop. He looks at you, holding his fingers up as he looks at you. Bringing them to his lips he placed them in his mouth and smirked.

"Finger lickin good... Now... show me what you do with that pussy of yours when you think of me, because let's face it, Darlin, with all you've admitted, I know you've thought about me." He smirked as he moved back to lean against the pool table.

Looking at you he watches intently. Your hand moves to your bud as you slowly begin to work yourself. You watch him, intently, watching how he moves, how he breathes, how his lips curl with that crooked grin of his. You begin to remember how his lips tasted, how they felt against yours, how his fingers felt playing with you. You whimper as you bring your other hand up to grip your breast. Your breathing becomes heavy and you watch as the front of his pants grow tight.

Biting your lip you tasted the blood but your focus was on him.

"Atta girl, slow down, not too fast." he guides.

He readjusts against the pool table as he undoes his pants, freeing himself, he begins to stroke himself slowly. You slow down a bit, your toes curl against the floor as your legs spread even wider giving him a full view as you scoot forward a bit and expose your whole self even more.

"Just like that, keep going. What crosses your mind when you think of me?" he asked you.

Letting out a whimper you look over him as he strokes himself right in front of you. Dear fuck, his cock is god damned perfect.

"What you would feel like inside me." You state honestly with a soft whimper.

"What I'd feel like inside you huh? Well, maybe if you're a good girl, you'll find out." He mused as he moved his hand a little quicker against his cock. "Pick up a little speed." He demanded.

Without a shadow of hesitation, your fingers begin to work yourself quicker. You moan a little louder. His hand works himself faster, a little harder. He grunts, you whimper. It's a tandem of back and forth, a perfect give and take.

It feels like a lifetime, but a lifetime you'd never give back. He sees how wet you are, how you're beginning to drip off the edge of the chair. He snarls and walks to you, taking you by your hair he guides you to the floor and slips his cock between your lips, pressing to the back of your throat. He lets out a heavy groan.

Like a good girl, you take all of his cock, your tongue swirling around as he uses you like a little sex doll, fucking your face. He pulls you back, strings of spit from your mouth to his cock still connected as he slaps you across the face and shoves his cock down your throat again. Your eyes water and your breathing through your nose becomes heavy, and he does it again. Pulls you from his cock, slaps your face and brings your mouth back to his cock, and proceeds to fuck your throat and mouth, his grip on your hair tight it pulls at your scalp. Your moans and whimpers echo and vibrate through him and you as he uses your head to pleasure himself.

"Finger yourself." He snarls

You begin to do just that, your fingers working yourself as your mouth is being used. He smirks looking down at you before he's had enough of using your face he throws you back onto the floor and stands over you.

"Keep going." He demands.

And you do, you don't question him.

"Yes Sir." You state. Again, no question.

He's officially lost all control, at this point you both have. He works his cock faster, and you're watching every bit of it while you're moaning loudly just slightly below him as you work your bud, driving your fingers as deep as you can, feeling your wetness. You want to finish, you're right there, you almost cannot contain that hot explosion between your legs.

"No girl, you gotta beg for that finish." He states.

"Please, please let me cum" You plead.

He shakes his head. "Not yet... keep going... faster." He demands.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you work yourself faster, you arch slightly your toes curled under you. You're rocking back and forth your hips buckle.

"Please... please Sir... I want to cum. Can I please. Please." You beg.

He looks down at you as he works his cock, and he feels his own eruption on the rise. He looks down at you and smirks.

"Open up." He states.

Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out flat and you begin to taste those hot wet ribbons as he releases against your tongue, and over your face.

"Come on... Cum for me." He growls as he continues his facial finish.

You let out a heavy moan, a loud breathy gasp as your body begins to tremble. His cock tapped against your tongue as if saying he was finished with his finish. He watches you shake, almost a pleasure convulsion. You begin to giggle, swallowing what was in your mouth, and cleaning up your face. Licking it from your fingers.

"Thank you." you muse.

He looks over you and smiles. "No, thank you." he chuckles as he puts himself away.

Moving toward you, he scoops you up places you on the pool table, and looks over your face. He moves a moment and grabs a bottle of water from the bar fridge, and a clean, rag, getting it cool, he moves back toward you. Wiping your face, and neck, he starts to wipe you off and smiles handing you the water bottle.

"So I have a question." He states.

"Yes Sir?" you ask.

"How about you be my Old Lady... my ride or die... my one and only. My little pet... my little pain slut... my girl." He asked you looking over your face.

You look up at him, and this sense of perfection washes over you as you lean forward and kiss him sweetly. "I've waited a long time for that..."

"So is that a yes?" he asks with a smirk.

Nodding your head you chuckle place your arms around him and pull him in for another kiss. "That's a Yes." you whisper against his lips.

Smirking he presses his lips against yours and wraps his arms around you. Holding you tightly against him he leans back and looks over your face.

"Now, how about I take you back to my place, and show you how I feel inside you..." he smirked.

Nodding your head you chuckle. "Yes please, Sir." you whisper against his lips.

He kisses you again, and helps you get dressed before he takes you to his bike, hands you a helmet, and takes off in the direction of his place.

Everything that happened today, it felt like a dream, but this dream was one you'd remember. Only it wasn't a dream. This was real, and you were about to unlock a new chapter in your life.

[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?

[thatbanditqueen]

An Ode to Whositmcwhatsit Fic

I am going to add this to my pinned master list. It is not work I wrote, but work from one of my favorite blogs that has been deactivated. Below are links to as many of the fic posts from whositmcwhatsits' former blog that I have been able to find on my reblogs.... if you have one to add

One-shots

Afraid - 1957 at the amusement park in Memphis....

The Deal - on location for Paradise Hawaiian Style

The Gate Girl - a night at the movies in the 70s

Stay the Same - Elvis is just about to go into the army

Save Me - 1976 Palm Springs

Multi-chapters

Glimmers of Dawn

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Something Else

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Enjoy Your Stay

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Summer Festival

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Enjoyable Slide to Oblivion

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

random love notes

her pinned blog with all the comments when I reblogged it....

@richardslady121 @lulubell3 @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @heartbrake-hotel @dkayfixates @kingdomforapony @eapep @i-r-i-n-a-a @freudianslumber @lookingforrainbows @from-memphis-with-love

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Elvis teaching reader how to use vibrators one day then catching her using the, by herself one day..then using them on her til she can't take it anymore.

Dolly

A/N: oooh this was a fun one! Elvis is a little mean 😈

Pairing: 1970!Elvis x reader

Word count: 4.3K

TWs: Elvis is dominant, reader calls him daddy and sir(!), dollification (kinda), exhibitionism (if you squint), praise kink, orgasm control, pillow humping, mean!Elvis, teasing, forced orgasms, overstimulation, little bit of choking, general smut.

You sit on the sofa with your legs crossed demurely at the ankle, flicking through a magazine. Elvis has been out all morning, leaving you alone in the house to make your own entertainment. You’re not sure why he didn’t want you to go with him, and you find yourself worrying your lower lip with your teeth again, wondering if you did something wrong. The bang of the door opening and the chatter of conversation make you sit up, putting down the magazine and quickly smoothing down your little dress. 

“Where’s my little dolly?” Elvis’ voice booms out through the downstairs of his LA house. 

You spring to your feet, pushing them into your kitten heels and trotting towards the source of the noise, eager to see him. 

“Here, Daddy!” You exclaim as you reach him. 

One arm pulls you against him, his palm flat on your lower back as your face turns up towards his expectantly. You feel yourself enveloped in a cloud of cologne and cigar smoke as he leans down to kiss you. He lets you go to run his thumb over the bitten skin of your lower lip, eyes narrowing with concern. 

“Need ta take better care a these here lips, dolly.” His thumb presses just that little bit more firmly, making your lips part a little. “Want ‘em nice an’ soft, sweetheart. Not like my old calloused fingers, here.” 

He laughs then, eyes flicking around to the rest of the Mafia who’d come through the door with him. As if on cue, they all start laughing too. You’re not sure they could’ve all heard what he said, but they know which side their bread is buttered on. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you breathe. 

He hums, seemingly satisfied, and steps back, holding out a bag that he’d been hiding behind his back. 

“A gift for my pretty little doll.”

You beam with delight. He must've gone out without you to buy you a surprise. He knows how much you love surprises.

“Oooh, Daddy.” 

Your hands go to either side of your face in girlish excitement and his lips curl into a slightly smug smile at such an enthusiastic response.

“Go on, take it baby.���

Your hand closes around the handle and he lets it go with a satisfied hum. 

“Why don'tcha take it into your bedroom?” 

You feel him watching you as you trot off with it, your ass jiggling in the tight little dress he'd set out for you to wear that morning. He follows at a more sedate pace but when you pause to open the door he catches up, and you feel the flat of his hand against your ass cheek. You giggle. 

“You like my dress?” You tease, coquettishly, looking over your shoulder at him through your big false lashes. 

“I love yer dress, baby,” he coos in response, moving his hand to press his groin against your ass instead, showing you just how much he likes it. 

“Mmmm. Daddy!” Wiggling against him, one hand over your mouth, pretending to be scandalised. 

“C'mon,” he clicks his tongue, back to using his hands again. “Don'tcha wanna open yer gift?”

You nod quickly, affirming him with a “yes, Daddy,” before moving quickly into the room and sitting down on your plush, pink bed. You'd asked for a heart-shaped one, almost as an unreasonably bratty demand, but he'd got it for you anyway. 

His thigh presses up against yours as he sits down next to you, and you feel a familiar warmth start to spread between your legs. Peering into the bag, you dip your hand in to pull out a small pink box. You open it, rifling through the layers of pink tissue until you find another, smaller box. 

You frown. What could it be? Perfume? It's kind of long and thin… opening one end you shake it carefully into your palm. 

“Daddy? What is it?”

You pout as you try to comprehend the object in your hand. It's pink and plastic, shaped like a long thin ice cream cone. He gently takes it from you and thumbs a switch at the base that you hadn't noticed. It comes to life with a buzz, and he holds your hand palm up, pressing the end against your wrist. You jump.

“Ooh!”

That self-satisfied smirk reappears. 

“A treat for my dolly. Ya like that?”

The vibrations creep along your skin and the feeling between your legs intensifies. 

“Mmmm. What's it for?” You blink at him.

The smirk spreads further across his face. “Ya haveta guess, baby.”

Moving the pink toy from your wrist to your thigh, he studies your face as he drags it higher and higher. Suddenly, understanding spreads across it and your lips form a little o.

He chuckles, his other hand pushing your skirt all the way up, exposing your pink panties. Your eyes flick towards the semi-open door. 

“Daddy?”

You watch his tongue poke out to wet his lower lip. “Don't worry ‘bout that, baby.”

Hearing the Mafia as they laugh and joke in the living room, you squirm, eyes fixed on the doorway now. 

“What if they see?” 

“Then they'll have me ta answer to.”

He presses the vibrating stick against your panties, and you forget all about the open door. 

“Oh!”

A finger presses against your lips, and you flutter your eyes open, barely even realising you'd closed them in the first place. 

“Lil bit a quiet now, darlin’. Know I said I'd deal with anyone seein’ ya, but yer only encouragin’ them with those pretty little noises, ain'tcha? Could ya blame ‘em if they came in?”

You shake your head and stare back at him, your eyes wide. 

“N-no,” you whisper back. 

“Be a good girl an’ be quiet f’me then, hm?”

You tell him yes again and he starts the vibration up again, having flicked it off when you’d cried out. Your teeth start worrying your lower lip until you remember what he’d said about it being rough. You suck it into your mouth instead, tongue running over it repeatedly. The feeling between your legs is growing and with it the wetness of your thin little panties. 

Elvis clicks his tongue and switches the toy off again, making you wriggle about and let out a tiny moan. You look up into his blue eyes pleadingly, finding them dark with lust. 

“You enjoin’ yerself, little girl?”

You nod quickly. “Y-yessir.” 

His mouth curls into a self-satisfied smirk at the honorific. Your chest is heaving with your ragged breathing, you’re so turned on and desperate for him to touch you again. 

“Darlin’. Daddy is just fine.”

“Yes Daddy,” the words tumble out of your mouth quickly, giving away your desperation if it weren’t already painfully obvious. 

“Not that I don’t like it when ya call me sir…”

Your head spins. “Yes, Daddy… Sir… oh…”

He chuckles, thumb rubbing your cheek as his fingers rest underneath your chin. 

“Poor ‘lil thing. Reckon ya really like yer new gift, hm?”

You nod again, deciding to not to confuse yourself further by speaking. 

“Good girl,” he coos. “Let’s get these wet panties off, shall we?”

You shift your hips to help him as he pulls them down for you, instructing you to sit at the head of the bed with your legs spread. You watch as he closes the bedroom door, then stalks back towards you like a tiger stalking its prey. Your heart starts beating out of your chest and it takes all your concentration not to press your thighs together again. 

He sits down beside you on the bed, his hand on your face again as he starts to kiss you. You're melting into him, the way his tongue gently and patiently parts your lips and then dances with your own. The noise of the vibrating stick buzzing into life reaches your ears just before the feeling of the vibrations reach your pussy. You jolt and moan into his mouth, and you can feel him resisting a smile. Pulling away, his thumb brushes your saliva-coated lower lip and the smile appears. He looks like the cat that’s got the cream. 

“Ya can make all the noise ya want to now, dolly.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” rushes out of your mouth again, making his smile somehow even bigger. 

“Ya like this, honey?” He asks, pushing it against your clit firmly. You’re starting to sweat and you wonder if this is too much pleasure and maybe you might have to scream. 

“Y-yes. Oh God. Feels so good.”

“What about this?”

Without warning, he slips the long thin toy inside you and suddenly you’re vibrating from the inside out. Your hips buck and you moan, eyes fluttering closed. 

“So good,” you whisper. Your brain seems dangerously blank. 

He starts to fuck you with the vibrating toy and you can feel arousal spilling down your legs and onto the bed. If only Elvis’ dick did this when he fucked you. You think that his thick, vibrating dick would be even better than this feeling right now, before the feeling of his thumb pressing against your clit stops all further thoughts. 

“Oh! Daddy!” 

“Ya gonna cum fer me, dolly?”

You nod quickly, feeling the edges of your orgasm as he keeps up the pace with the toy and his thumb rolls your clit around. 

“Oh… Oh…” you moan, helplessly, your body jolting and writhing with pleasure. 

“That’s it. Cum f’Daddy.”

Your vision blurs as you feel the wave of orgasmic bliss crashing over you, the pleasure is so overwhelming you don’t know what to do. Wetness streams between your legs and you’re calling out Elvis’ name between desperate moans. You’re not sure sex has ever felt quite this good, although you know you definitely shouldn’t ever mention that to Elvis, feeling your body still and his hands move to gentle, tickling strokes of your thighs. 

“Mmmmm. Good girl,” he hums. 

Eventually your eyes flip open again and you gaze up at him in wonder. 

“You never told me what it was, Daddy.”

He laughs. “Ya still don't know? Innocent lil thing. That's a vibrator, baby. A sex toy.”

“Are there more?” You ask, breathily. “Sex toys I mean.”

Those tickling, teasing fingers are still running over your skin as he considers your question. 

“Yes dolly, lots more of ‘em. But this is all we need right now.” He moves his hand to your throat, thumb gently pressing against your windpipe. “An’ no usin’ it on yer own now, little girl.” 

The warning tone is one you're used to by now, and you reassure him quickly that you wouldn't possibly dream of using it without him. He seems satisfied by your promises, tucking his thumb away and letting his hand slide to the back of your neck. He kisses you gently and you lean into him. You've barely come down from your high and you're already thinking about when you'll be allowed to use the toy again. You hope it's soon. 

***

Elvis has been gone all day and he shows no sign of coming back. You flick through one of your magazines disinterestedly, then try reading one of his books. It's no good, though, you can't concentrate. He wasn't interested in pleasuring you last night, just teasing you until your pussy ached and then making you please him instead. Your pussy still aches now. It pulses with need, and you shuffle your legs back and forth, squeezing your thighs together as your dress rides up higher and higher.

Joe coughs.

“Uh… princess?” He has a habit of calling you princess when Elvis isn't there and you don't really like it. 

“Hmmm.”

“Your uh… your skirt…” he mumbles, and you watch the blush spread across his cheeks as he says it. 

“What about it, Joe?” 

You probably wouldn't be this bratty if Elvis were here, but he isn't. 

Another cough. “You might need ta… pull it down, honey. I don't think Elvis would like the view you're givin’ us right now…”

“Well Elvis isn't here!” You declare. Standing up, you pull your skirt down to where it belongs and huff loudly. “I'm going to bed!” 

You can hear Joe humming and muttering to himself as you leave and you have half a mind to go and find his wife and tell her that he's been looking up your skirt. But the ache between your legs is reaching a fever pitch and you have to find a way to relieve it, right now. You stride into your bedroom and close the door behind you, looking quickly around as if you expected to find Elvis hidden in some corner or other. Of course he is nowhere to be seen, but you sigh anyway. You miss him. You like him being there to tell you what to wear and what to do and, hell, probably what to think too. In his absence you always make silly decisions, and as you unzip your dress and let it fall to the ground at your feet, you feel another one coming on. Sloughing off your panties and unclasping your bra, you stand in the middle of your bedroom completely naked aside from your heels. Elvis loves you in heels, he tells you they make your sooties look pretty, so you even wear them indoors. You spin around on the spot for a moment, looking at your white peeptoes. They do make your feet look nice. Then the throbbing between your legs makes itself known again and you remember your earlier frustrations. You don't think it's fair that Elvis denied you last night and then disappeared all day today. He doesn't like you touching yourself on your own, he always tells you Daddy has to be there to make sure his pussy is being treated right. But you don't know where he is, and your pussy isn't being treated right at the moment, you're damn sure of it. 

Wandering over to the full-length mirror in the room, you take some time to give yourself a once over. You don't look bad naked, and the heels add a certain something. You turn to the side, kicking one foot up behind you and putting a hand on your hip. Pulling a pin-up style expression, you imagine Elvis behind you. Before you know it, the girl in the mirror has her hand between her thighs and is stroking herself there. She puts her other hand to her mouth in faux-surprise. Pleasure starts to pulse through your veins, excitement too, and the next thing you know you're thinking of the vibrator. Elvis did say it was a gift for you. An unhelpful part of your brain reminds you that Elvis also said you weren't to use it without him. You push the thought away, concentrating for a minute or two on the coquettish girl in the mirror, surprised at her own hand between her legs. Then you go in search of the box. 

You’re on the bed, vibrator in your pussy, humping one of your pink fluffy pillows when the door opens a crack and Elvis looks in. You don’t notice him at first, of course you don’t, he’s being deliberately quiet and you’ve got carried away, lost in pleasure. You don’t even notice him slipping into the room completely, silently closing the door behind him. Your mouth falls open as the delicious friction on your clit brings you close to orgasm. That’s when you hear it. 

“Dolly.”

At first you think you’ve imagined it. You want him here so badly that your brain has conjured up that soft southern drawl. As your eyes slowly open and your hips still, you finally register him standing in the middle of your room. 

“Daddy!” You squeak, throwing yourself backwards off the pillow and quickly trying to cover up with one of the many throws on your bed. Your hand reaches between your legs to switch the vibrator off in a way that you pray is subtle but you’re pretty sure is anything but. 

Elvis stares at you with ill-concealed annoyance. His jaw is ticking, clenching and relaxing over and over again in a way that you know spells trouble for you. He rakes a hand through his previously beautifully coiffed hair, leaving it spilling haphazardly over his forehead. You can’t help noticing how good he looks, the way his pants cling to his thighs, his rolled up shirt sleeves emphasising the muscles in his forearms. 

“Jus’ what d’ya think yer doin’ exactly, little girl?” He asks, through gritted teeth. 

“I-I was missing you, D-daddy…” you try. It’s not a lie, but it probably isn’t enough to save you. 

He purses his lips, titling his head to the side as he huffs air out of his nose. “What have I told ya ‘bout pleasurin’ yerself without me?”

You wriggle uncomfortably under the blanket. The toy is still inside you and you’d been so close when he interrupted you. It’s not as if you’ve stopped wanting to finish. If anything, the way he’s talking to you is just making you wetter, your stomach twisting and turning, body aching with want. 

“Not to,” you whisper. “‘M sorry, sir.” It’s a long shot, but maybe upping the ante will help. This might be a get-down-on-your-knees-and-beg-for-forgiveness sort of moment. If only doing that wouldn’t make it immediately obvious that not only had you been pleasuring yourself on your own, but you’d been using the toy that had been expressly forbidden too. 

“I’ll make yer sorry,” he hisses, closing the distance between him and the bed in two large strides. Okay, so maybe your kneeling and begging moment has passed you by. 

The speed with which he pulls the blanket off your body makes you squeal, and you try to wriggle away from him. Anything to stop him seeing what you’ve done, but of course he’s quick, much quicker than you and he grabs your ankles and pulls you across the bed by them. Another deeply exasperated and disappointed sigh falls from his lips and you know he’s spotted the toy. 

“What. Did. I. Tell. Ya. About. This?”

You’re on your back now and he’s pushed your legs up and apart, hands on the backs of your knees as he leans over you menacingly. 

“Sorry, sorry…” you mumble, eyes wide and afraid though you know the wetness leaking out of you is giving away your arousal. “...’m so sorry, sir.”

There’s a silence then, during which you can only assume Elvis is considering exactly what he’s going to do with you. You can almost see his brain working on his face, the way he frowns and then eventually his lips curl into a cruel smile. 

“Ya wanna cum, little girl?”

You nod slowly, unsure. It seems like a trap, but you’re not sure exactly how it could be. The smile is wolfish now, and you start to feel like his prey laid out underneath him as he flicks the switch on again and the delightful buzzing fills your pussy. 

“Well let’s see if that’s what ya want when I’m done with ya.”

Your brain latches on to the words briefly, and then stops trying to work out what they mean as he starts the same process as before, moving the toy in and out of you as he touches your clit. It’s mere moments before you’re cumming, the thrill of your orgasm rushing through your body from your core to your fingers and toes. The relief is so great you sigh with satisfaction, hands thrown above your head. You can hear him laugh a little, and you force your eyes open to try to figure out why. He’s already undone his pants by the time you look, and then his dick is in his hand. 

“Warmed up now, aint’cha?” He coos, replacing the vibrator with his dick in one quick movement. 

You yelp in surprise. You’re relaxed, but not relaxed enough to take him in one go so quickly and you feel your pussy stretch a little painfully. Elvis doesn’t care though, he barely gives you a second to adjust before he’s thrusting into you, making your body shake with each movement. The feeling is overwhelming, it’s pleasure and discomfort and a little sprinkle of oversensitivity to boot. You just lie there, being fucked, panting and moaning, barely able to string a thought together. Your ability to string a thought together leaves you completely when you feel the vibrations again, this time on your clit. You squeak. 

“Daddy!” 

“Mmmm. Want ya ta cum again, sweetheart,” he tells you, hair falling into his eyes, sweat on his brow. 

“O-Oh…” you manage, and then your brain is gone again. 

He keeps thrusting and holding the vibrator against your clit so firmly that all you can do is what he wants, and this time everything goes white and you feel like you’re floating in space, in your body and out of it at the same time. He moves the vibrator for enough time for you to catch your breath and then it’s back. And then he does something you didn’t know was possible - he turns it up. 

“Ahhh! No!” You squirm and struggle, trying to get away from him. The feeling is just too much. 

“Uh-uh, little dolly,” he chides. “Yer gonna lie here until ya cum again.”

“I-I can’t… I… oh God…”

“Ya wanted ta cum. ‘M jus’ lettin’ ya cum.”

You keep wriggling until his hand wraps around your throat. 

“Stay. Still.” 

You feel it tighten, blocking off your airway just enough to make the message clear. You stop moving your body but your head nods quickly and desperately. He presses the toy against your clit again.

“Relax and cum f’Daddy.”

His dick is still inside you as your walls flutter and then squeeze for the third time, your pussy hot and swollen. You don’t know how much more of this you can take. He’s not interested though, and he doesn’t give you another chance to try to escape after this one. Pulling out, he flips you onto your belly and lies on top of you, holding you down. Once he’s got you where he wants you, he shifts just enough to slip the vibrator between your legs and turn it up to full. 

“No… no… ‘s too much, please…” 

“One more, little girl.” His voice is gravelly, dark, dangerous. 

Your clit is so sensitive now you don’t know what to do with yourself. Not that there’s much you can do with yourself, with all of Elvis lying right on top of you, holding you against the terrible buzzing torture. You can feel his hardness against your bare ass, you know he’s getting off on this. You hear someone start to whine, and then after a minute or so you realise it’s you.

“Relax, baby.” Sudden gentleness, his lips next to your ear, the smell of him all around you. 

He kisses your neck and you’re screaming out the fourth orgasm, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes and then spilling down your cheeks, wetting the already much-abused pillow. 

“Oh, good girl.”

“No more, please Daddy… no more…” you whine, arms and legs thrashing as he rolls off you and pulls the toy away, switching it off and tossing it over the other side of the bed. 

“C’mere.”

He guides your face to his lap and your mouth to his stiff dick. Gently helping you move up and down on him, he tells you when he’s going to cum so you can prepare for it spurting down your throat. You only gag a little. The satisfied moan he makes fills you with pride, and you look up at his blissed-out face feeling warm and fuzzy now too. You lick your lips as you rest your head on his thigh, starting to feel tired. After a while he comes round from his orgasm and you feel him move you gently and stand up, tucking himself away again. 

“I’ll run ya a bath,” he announces, getting up and going into the en suite. 

Sitting up slowly, you realise your pussy feels about twice its usual size, puffy and hot between your legs. 

“‘M sorry, Daddy,” you tell him as soon as he’s back, eyes big and desperate for approval. 

The corners of his lips pull into a little smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “So ya should be, sweetheart.” 

Your face falls and you look down, studying the carpet, worried he hasn’t forgiven you and he might start torturing your clit again. Then you feel a finger under your chin as he tilts your face back up towards his. 

“I forgive ya. Think ya took yer punishment.” He smirks then, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Not well, but ya took it. An’ now I gotta look after my lil dolly, haven’t I?”

You wiggle closer to him as he sits down next to you on the bed, your arms around his neck, pouting lips and big doe eyes. 

“My pussy’s sore,” you whisper. 

He laughs and slings his arm underneath your legs, picking you up so you’re sitting sideways on his lap.

“‘M not surprised, baby. Maybe next time ya won’t try ta take care a yerself without yer Daddy around, hm?”

You nod and he kisses you affectionately, first on the lips and then on the end of your nose, finally landing on a last gentle kiss to the forehead. 

“That’s my dolly. Let’s go and check on this bath, sweetheart.”

You cling to him as he stands, holding you in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. You can feel his pulse throbbing in his neck as your face presses against it. 

“Love you, Daddy.”

He strokes your hair, then kisses you. “Love you too, darlin’. More ‘an anythin’. Now let's get ya nice an’ clean.”

***

Taglist:

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[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.

[sissylittlefeather]

Kink Madness: Round 3

Flashing vs Voyeurism

This one was funnnnnn. Don't forget to vote at the end!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, flashing and voyeurism, but also public sex, and some girl on girl.

Flashing: TTWII Elvis

This is the first show they're filming for the new concert documentary. Elvis is so nervous he can barely breathe. He paces and sweats and cusses and chugs water and you sit there on his little vanity watching.

“Baby, what if I forget the words again?”

“You won't.” You coo, soothingly.

“I keep fuckin’ forgetting the words.” He runs his hand through his hair and looks up at the ceiling. “I can't do this. Not with the cameras on me. I hafta tell ‘em they can't film.”

You wrack your brain for some way to calm him down, but you haven't seen your husband this keyed up since the Singer special in 1968.

“Elvis, you know that's not an option.”

“I don't have a choice, doll! I can't do it!” He stops pacing for a second and looks at you, his eyes round, and for a moment he looks like the boy you met in 1958.

“Come here.” You open your arms for him to come to you but he shakes his head and goes back to pacing.

“Too nervous.” This is the worst you've ever seen him. Even in ‘68 there was a feeling that if it flopped he'd just give up. This is different. Now people have expectations. But you're not about to let him be his own worst enemy. You look around the room for something to distract him and then it dawns on you. There is one thing you can try. It's risky, but if it works the payoff will be worth it. You go to work with your hands and then whisper.

“E, look at me.” He continues pacing and shakes his hand in your direction. “Elvis.”

“Honey, I'm–”

“Elvis Aaron Presley. Look at your wife.” The use of his middle name stops him and he turns to you, ready to be annoyed. But then he stops dead in his tracks and lets his mouth fall open.

You've untied your wrap dress and are now holding it so that he can see your body in nothing but panties. Your nipples harden with the cool air on them and he stares, his eyes drifting up and down your frame.

“Goddamn, baby.”

“Now will ya come here?” He adjusts his jumpsuit at the crotch and then moves across the room to you. His hand reaches out slowly as his thumb grazes the skin of your breast.

“EP, it's time!” It's Joe on the other side of the dressing room door.

“Fuck.” Elvis whispers and then hollers back. “Okay, I'm comin’.”

You quickly pull your dress back together and tie it closed. He looks back down at you and sighs.

“Rather just stay back here with you.”

“I'll be right here when you finish. Go get ‘em, Tiger Man.” He growls and then leans down to kiss you passionately. Joe yells something again and Elvis groans as he pulls back. He adjusts his cock again to be up under his macrame belt and then heads for the door. When he gets there, he turns back to you.

“Hey, doll, do me a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“Take your panties off and toss ‘em to me.” You make a face, but don't take the time to think. Instead, you shimmy out of them and throw them to him. He tucks them in his suit and then winks. “Now I know you're ready for me after the show.”

Your mouth pops open, but he's out the door before you can say anything at all.

******

On stage, it's all Elvis can do to focus on the show and not think about your naked body wide open in front of him. He's not nervous anymore, but he sure as hell does forget some words as flashes of your tits, your hips, your thighs run across his mind. He gets progressively more turned on, so hard it hurts and pretty sure he's leaving a decent-sized precum stain in this suit. He can feel your panties against his skin and that's not helping either.

But what kills him more than anything is seeing you out in the audience knowing you're naked as a jaybird under your dress. Still, he presses on, rushing through Love Me Tender, moving his hips a bit too much just to get a little goddamn friction during fast songs, and sweating even more than normal. When he gets to the last song and you head backstage, he almost drops the mic and follows you right then, but he doesn't. He finishes the song and the second the curtain is dropped, he walks directly to you, not even taking the towel that Charlie offers him.

What he doesn't know is that you've been squirming in your seat for the whole show as well, so when he grabs your wrist, you giggle and follow along enthusiastically. He doesn't even make it back to the dressing room. Instead, he finds an almost-dark corner backstage and pushes your back up against the wall, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His fingers make quick work of untying your dress and then he rips off the macrame belt, unsnaps the chains on his jumpsuit, and yanks the zipper down just far enough to free his aching cock.

“God, honey, I could eat you alive right now.” He growls against your neck, hiking one leg up around his waist. Then, he drags the head of his dick through your folds and grunts at how wet you are already. “Fuck. Looks like I'm not the only one suffering.”

“No. Now, you better fuck me good and hard, E because I'm– ohhhh!” He slams into you, filling your whole pussy in one smooth motion. Your body shudders at the sudden pleasure before he slides out and then does it again.

“God, you're fuckin’ soaked. Were you hurtin’ for it, baby?” You whimper and nod, rolling your hips forward to meet his as he drives into you over and over again. “That's my girl. This sweet little pussy is mine, isn't it?”

“Yes, oh God, yes!” You moan loudly and he laughs, shushing you.

“Honey, if you don't want my hand over your mouth, you better be careful. I am fuckin’ you in public, you know.” He hisses in your ear, nibbling on your earlobe.

“Fuck!” You yell and he chuckles again, sliding his hand over your mouth without slowing his relentless thrusting into you.

“This what you wanted, you dirty little thing? Wanted me to shut you up?” Your eyes roll back and you nod as his cock pounds your g-spot. “I love fuckin’ you baby. This perfect little pussy. Mmm.”

He groans as his hips stutter into you and he moves his hand to the side of your neck, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Gonna cum, doll. You want me to fill you up?”

“Please… yes…”

“Good girl.” He whispers it as he closes his eyes and slams into you, shooting you full of his release. When he does, it pushes you over the edge too and you cum hard on his dick, your body pulsing around him as your orgasm burns through your veins like wildfire. He holds you there for a bit, panting and sweating as you both try to let your heart rates return to normal. Eventually, he lifts his head up and looks around to see if anyone saw what you were up to. When he decides the coast is clear, he slips out of you, zipping up his jumpsuit and helping your trembling hands tie your dress back into place. As soon as you're both put back together, he leans in and kisses you softly.

“Thank you, baby.”

“For fucking you?”

“Well, that, but for before the show. You always know what I need.” You kiss the end of his nose gently.

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn't?”

******

Voyeurism: EOT Elvis

“You seem sad, daddy.” You kiss his knuckles and snuggle his hand as he uses the other one to drink from his bottle of water. When he lowers the green bottle, he stares at it and nods.

“Just don't feel like myself today, doll.”

“Why not?” He clicks his tongue and looks up at you sadly.

“Don't you worry about it, honey.” The rest of the room mills about waiting for his signal to continue rehearsal. You stroke the gold scarf where he's got it pinned together on his chest.

“It's that girl, isn't it. You like her.” He blinks in surprise that you had noticed him flirting with the new backup singer. There was a time when he wouldn't have thought twice about getting her naked while you weren't looking, but he's feeling less desirable as he ages. Still, he never dreamed you knew about his conquests beyond your relationship.

“Y-y-you saw that?”

“Daddy, I'm not stupid. I know you. Why didn't you send me home and do what you normally do?” It's not your favorite thing that he has a habit of cheating on you, but you also know that sometimes it's what he needs and you'd be a fool to try to change him. He blushes a deep red and fumbles around trying to come up with some deflection that he doesn't know what you're talking about, but then he looks into your eyes. When he's met with nothing but understanding, he just sighs.

“Didn't think she'd wanna.” He mumbles it and you realize how hurt he is by the thought.

“Oh, Elvis.” He blinks again. You never call him Elvis. “You really think that girl didn't want you?”

“Can't talk about this with you, doll. Can't hurt you like this.” His fingertips fiddle with the hem of your shirt and he can't meet your eyes. You use one finger to gently tip his chin up.

“Daddy, the only thing that hurts me is that you've never thought to include me.”

“Include you?” His voice is incredulous.

“Yeah. You've never asked, but I like girls as much as you do.” You give him a soft smile and giggle a little. It's not something you usually tell people, but he's your safe place.

“Don't play with me, doll. You serious?” His eyes widen as you lean in and whisper in his ear.

“Oh, daddy. You know baby doesn't ever play.” With that, you pull back and walk across the room to the new backup singer. He watches in amazement as you talk with her. You're too far away for him to hear what you're saying, but he watches you flirt for a bit before you lean in and whisper something in her ear. She bites her lower lip as you pull back and then looks at him and nods.

“Time for lunch, everybody!” He claps his hands dramatically and urges everyone out, his heart pounding and a giant smile on his face.

******

In what feels like minutes, you're back in the hotel suite you're sharing. He's sitting in a chair watching as you and the other girl kiss and pet each other. It doesn't take him long to slip into his naturally-dominant role.

“Take her shirt off, doll.”

“Yes, daddy.” You coo and then slip her shirt off over her head.

“Goddamn.” Her breasts bounce free, exposing the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. He palms himself over his pants. “Now suck on her nipples a bit, baby.”

You don't hesitate to dive in and pull one of her hardened buds into your mouth, flicking your tongue over it like he does to you. She moans softly and then takes off your shirt and bra too. The sight of your breasts rubbing against each other is too much for him, so he unzips and pulls out his aching cock.

“Fuck, girls. Don't stop.” He starts to stroke himself lazily, pulling his cigar to his lips with his other hand. “I wanna see you eat each other.”

“Anything for you, daddy.” You get on your knees and pull her skirt and panties down, exposing the patch of sandy hair between her legs. She backs up to sit on the bed and you spread her thighs. Her glistening pussy makes you shiver and, even though you've never done it before, you don't think twice before you lean forward and drag your tongue up her slit. She whimpers and rolls her hips forward and you find her clit easily. The taste is earthy and sweet and you're amazed at how much it turns you on to lick her like this.

“Shit, doll. You must be good. She's already trembling.” He pumps himself a little harder, imagining shoving his own tongue in your sweet little pussy.

Your hands grip her hips as you eat her furiously and she grabs a handful of your hair. “Fuck! I'm gonna cum!”

She screams and squeezes your head with her thighs.

“Spread her open, baby. I wanna see her cum on your tongue.” You use both hands to pry her legs open again and then moan into her wetness, pushing her over the edge. She throws her head back and groans as her body contracts and relaxes, pulsing on your tongue.

“Fuck.” He swipes his thumb across the head of his dick and gathers some precum as he strokes himself. “Sit on her face, doll.”

She lays back on the bed as you remove your shorts and panties and climb onto her, stopping to rub yourself against her and kiss her deeply. Then, you settle with a knee on either side of her head. She eagerly grabs your ass and pulls your pussy to her lips, licking you furiously. You moan deeply and grab one of your breasts, pinching your nipple between your fingers.

“That's it, doll. Let her eat that sweet little pussy. Cum on her face.” He jerks himself harder and faster now, the sight in front of him turning him on so much he feels like he might explode right now. You feel the edges of your orgasm approaching as she licks and sucks your clit, shoving her fingers up inside you to pump against your g-spot.

“Oh, fuck, daddy. You wanna see me cum?”

“Yes. Come on, baby, cum for daddy.” You obey his command as your body shudders and your release washes over you, sending lightning from your fingertips to your toes.

He stands up and walks over to the side of the bed, cock bouncing and weeping as he moves.

“Daddy's turn. Both of you sit up.” You position yourselves shoulder to shoulder on your knees, both of your lips slick and shining with the other’s arousal. He pumps himself with his left hand and runs his thumb over your swollen mouth. “You were so good for me, baby.”

She leans forward and licks the tip of his cock and he moans. Not to be outdone, you do the same. Next thing he knows, you're licking him and sucking him together, your tongues brushing against each other as you treat him like an ice cream cone. He grunts and leans his head back, but he knows his climax is building quickly.

“Come on, ladies. Give daddy a good target.” You pull off of him and wrap your arms around each other, pressing your breasts together. “Fuck. That's it.”

He pumps himself hard and fast now, but it doesn't take long at all for him to cuss and groan and shoot cum all over both of your tits. Both of you giggle as you feel it hot and sticky on your chests. He lets go of himself and lets his softening cock rest on your skin.

“Goddamn, baby. That was beautiful.” You look up at him with your eyes full of love.

“You feel better?”

“Like you wouldn't believe.”

When the three of you get back to rehearsal, he's fully restored. The other musicians marvel at the change in his attitude and one of the other backup singers asks how you managed it. You look at the girl you fucked and she laughs.

“Just love, honey. Just love.”

******

Reblog to encourage votes!

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[twobitsblade]

Hi!!! I saw your poll and I was wondering if you could write a 60s!Elvis X Reader fic, where Reader is having a hard time at work because they can't seem to keep up with everything and Elvis finds them crying outside their work place? Comforting them and asking why they can't just let him take care of them?

Take all the time you need!❤️

(hello, thank you so much for requesting this! it was slightly difficult to write since this is my first time writing smut, but i hope you all enjoy it. i’d love to see more requests featuring elvis in my inbox!)

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ MY HEART BELONGS TO DADDY !

a work of fiction written by @twobitsblade and inspired by @atleastpleasetelephone, @jhoneybees, @wanderingelvis, @lustnhim, and @theelvisprincess !

contains: smut (obviously), reader and elvis are married, elvis is a cocky know-it-all with hints of the 1960s male mindset !

you and elvis had been together for a while now; around three years of loving, fighting, and arguing, but you knew that at the end of the day he’d always be there for you. and you knew that even when you took up a new job at your aunt’s boutique—something which elvis discouraged multiple times (“oh m’baby, you ain’t needuh do these stupid ol’ jobs, m’the one providin’”)—while you were very thankful for him, your aunt desperately needed your help, and who were you to turn her down?

but it turns out that perhaps elvis was right—this job began to be a lot more than you’d signed up for. originally, the deal was you’d wear a cute dress, get your hair done all nice (for free, mind you), and greet the customers, but then more and more duties started being asked of you.

“oh dear, can you go bring the boxes from the basement?” “can you go downtown and pick up some new hair dyes? we’re all out, and the shipment won’t be on time?” “can you give her a little trim? it’s not too complicated.”

while you don’t like to think of yourself as spoilt, you’re not very used to working these types of jobs. i mean, you and elvis have been together for years, and you’d gotten used to the comfy lifestyle he provided you.

one day, it just became too much—you were turning around like a dog, fulfilling one task after the other, and it didn’t help that you barely slept last night. it’s not like you could tell elvis about this because it’d prove him right, and you can’t handle that damn cocky smirk on his face as he tells you how he knows his little one wasn’t made for such hard work.

you sigh, placing your things down—the sound a bit louder than intended, causing you to flinch. you toss off your high heels, lazily running up the stairs of graceland and into the bedroom you and elvis shared—grand, beautiful, and decorated by both of you as a visual representation of your love for the other—but now all it felt was suffocating.

you plopped down on the bed, not bothering to change out of your outdoor clothes, and laid your head facing the ceiling when suddenly you heard rustling and groaning, causing you to turn your head as you saw the back of elvis’s head. he slowly turns around to face you, clearly still half asleep.

“mmm, hey m’baby, how’s work?” he says drowsily, grabbing you by the collar of your dress and pulling you close, wrapping his leg around your waist.

“it was fine, el—fine as usual,” you say, though he wasn’t stupid; even half asleep, he could tell. he groaned, rubbed his eyes, and sat up.

he looked you up and down before smirking—god damn it—“well, what’s the matter, huh, little ’un?” you rolled your eyes and weakly shoved him, the shove barely moving him.

“i said it was nothing, didn’t i?” you groaned, but he doesn’t care.

“ah, f’god’s sakes, just let me take care of my babygirl…” he groaned, grabbing you and laying you on top of him. you tried to pull away to no avail, causing you to let out a mewl which made him chuckle—everything about him was irritating you in that moment: his baby blue eyes, his tan skin, his perfectly, oh so disgustingly perfect smile, and the softness with which he looked at you, his girl. you sighed, resting your head on his chest and stifling a sob, and he noticed, tangling his fingers in your hair, “shh, m’girl, tell daddy what happened.” you did, and even though it all came out as incomprehensible high-pitched, whiny rambles, he nodded as though he understood you—not just your words, but the language of your soul.

you eventually felt content, done venting. you sighed, wiped your tears, and looked up at him, and suddenly you chuckled. it wasn’t quite wry but not quite from happiness; you felt good—elvis always had a way of making you feel good.

and in your exhausted state, you needed him, needed him badly, and he could see that; after all, he knew you inside and out. his hand went down to your back, then to your hip, then to your butt, then to your thigh, causing you to feel slight tingles coursing through you—you hated that, you hated how easily he could get you in such a vulnerable state.

“baby, come on, you need to open up for me. how else can i keep you safe, huh, lil ’un?”—ah, the typical elvis double entendre.

you nodded slowly, turning around on his lap so he could unzip your dress, the slight friction causing him to groan, “fuckin’ tease, you are…” he said, unzipping your dress slowly but surely, “ah, m’girls wearin’ somethin’ fancy, hmm?” he said, observing your baby pink bra with lace detailing. your face heated up at his words as you expected him to unbuckle your bra, but he didn’t.

he linked his fingers underneath the clasp and pulled you backwards so that your back rested on his chest, as his hands, in a painfully slow manner, slid down from your cleavage to your ribs, to your belly, down to your pelvic bone, and under your skirt—and you arched into him, causing a giggle to escape him. “hmm, needy, ain’t ya?” he said, his fingers rubbing circles on your clothed cunt as you squirmed into his touch. he slipped one finger underneath the fabric and then inside you, causing you to let out a loud, high-pitched moan—and god knows he wasn’t going to be the one to silence those sounds—then another finger, then a third and final one, as he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. you lost yourself in his touch; incomprehensible words mixed with moans left your mouth drowned by his groans—the sounds almost pornographic.

he pulled his fingers out and wiped them on your dress, causing you to whine at the sudden emptiness you felt and at the vulgarity of the action.

he rolled around so that you were now under him, and a surge of excitement crossed you.

he removed his pants, then his boxers, his erect cock springing out from them. he grinned, “y’ready m’baby?” you nodded, preparing yourself as he aligned his tip with your entrance, your wetness working as the perfect lube, and slowly—painfully slowly—he entered you, moans leaving your mouth as your mind became dazed, hungry for the man you loved so much.

slowly, he began thrusting in and out repeatedly, causing you to let out a strange sound—a mix of a scream and a yowl—with his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh of your hips. “mm, take it for me like a good little girl.” you nodded, continuing, and as you felt your climax approaching, he nodded, a silent signal that you could release yourself, and so you did—all over him—and soon after, he followed.

you both plopped down onto the bed with a sigh. he looked at your tired frame with admiration, the sweat glistening off your body and making you look like an angel. he hugged you slowly, “m’girl, you gotta be honest with me; i’m always gonna be takin’ care of you, aight?” you nodded, letting out a gentle mix between a whimper and a sigh as his body embraced yours.

[lillyrob]

How I feel asking for a Pt 2 😔

[presleyslilbaby]

please a fic where the Memphis mafia walk in on elvis and reader having sex and they make fun of her for it ( repeating what she said during it )and elvis goes mental and basically just puts them in their place ! thankyou 💕

~Mockery~

(70’s!Elvis X Reader)

(Hi there! Thank you for requesting! So I have to admit, I'm not that good with the Memphis Mafia yet due to somehow being unable to find any information which is odd, but I did see a few other people saying that Red and Jerry would be the type to mock in a situation like this. This isn't my best work I don't think, but I tried my best and I hope you like it! 💜)

(TW: Rough sex, oral sex, Daddy used in a sexual manner, controlling Elvis-If you squint-, getting caught, potential misspellings, probably OOC M.M-)

"Oohhhh...!" You moaned loudly as Elvis stuffed his tongue deep in your pussy, eating you out with such fervor you were sure you were going to see stars. Gripping his hair tightly, you began to rut against his face, desperate for more of that delicious pleasure he provided you. "Ya' taste so fuckin' good, li'l Mama...I could eat you all night," He rasped, pulling his tongue out only for him to replace it with two thick fingers, pumping them in and out of you as his lips closed around your clitoris, sucking and giving that occasional nip or two. "S-S-So good, Daddy~!" You praised him, arching your back as your thighs closed around his head.

Elvis growled, snapping your legs back open as he looked at you with such a controlling expression. "Keep these pretty li'l legs open, Y/n. I wanna eat this cunt properly." He ordered before delving back down to drag his tongue over your clit in an agonisingly slow manner, causing your legs to tremble as you whimpered. "Sing for me." He chuckled, pushing your hips up and holding you by the waist to get a better angle of what belonged to him. "Oh god, yes!" You moaned, feeling your lower abdomen burning with white hot pleasure, your body preparing you for an orgasm. And finally, you let go. But you didn't have much time before Elvis positioned himself at your entrance, burying himself to the hilt with one powerful thrust.

"Fuck, Baby...Yes...So goddamn tight..." He groaned, tilting his head back in pleasure. One thing that you found over the course of your relationship was that Elvis was definitely the type to scream during sex. But you were always louder. Minutes passed, and he was fucking you with wild abandon, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every erratic thrust, panting like a dog in heat as sweat poured down his face, dripping down onto your own sweat-drenched body. "Fuck! Yes, Daddy! Harder!" You begged him, moaning as loud as your lungs would allow with how much air was being knocked out of you. "Daddy's gonna go harder," He whimpered, trying to drive into you harder despite his already wicked pace. A shaking thumb found its way to your clit, rubbing it desperately in rough circles as he sucked on that sweet spot on your neck he'd marked over and over again. But just as you were close to orgasming for the second time that night-

The bedroom door came open.

There stood Red West and Jerry Schilling with expressions mixed with mortification and amusement, eyes trained on the show you were unknowingly putting on. You noticed the door had opened, and you screamed, trying to hide your body from the two Men. Elvis whipped his head up, unsure what was going on before he noticed Red and Jerry. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" He shouted, grabbing the blanket and swiftly covering the both of you, shifting himself as if protecting you. Just as quickly as they appeared, the two had shut the door and left, but the sounds of their mockery could be heard beyond that threshold. "'Oh, Daddy~!'" They mocked, laughing at your expense.

Elvis was fucking pissed. Disentangling himself from you, he hopped up from the bed and swiftly pulled on a pair of underwear, his face bright Red with embarrassment and rage. "E-E-El-" You tried to call for him, but it was too late. He was already barging out of the bedroom to set those two straight. "I am NOT going to tolerate whatever the fuck you're doin'! Mockin' my Girl- MY Girl, while we was havin' time together!" Elvis shouted at them. "And why the FUCK DIDN'T YOU KNOCK?! What are you, goddamn idiots?! You say another fuckin' word, and I swear to The Good Lord above you're gonna wish you ain't said anythin' at all!" And before they could utter another word, he stomped right back in the room where he slammed the door shut, locking it aggressively. Tearing off his boxers, literally, he turned back towards you.

"We ain't done, Girl."

[wanderingelvis]

just thinking about what elvis would be like with you if you had a stutter or a stammer.

he’d be so patient with you, not everyone is, they get easily frustrated and fed up that you can’t get your words out properly but not elvis. he lets you take your time and it’s almost even more intimidating that someone is waiting for you to finish speaking.

but he won’t just say encouraging words to you, he’ll gently trace soothing circles into the small of your back. kiss your knuckles after rubbing them with the pad of his thumb, playing with the loose strands of your hair as he tells you “s’okay honey, y’doin’ just fine baby.” when you look to him desperately for comfort and reassurance.

he knows your prone to shutting up altogether when the nerves get the better of you but he loves nothing more than coaxing those thoughts out of you.

you’ll feel your mouth go dry as you try to manage a coherent sentence, getting all worked up and upset when you can’t do it but he never makes you feel bad for it.

you’ll sniffle through tears as elvis lovingly holds your hands and speaks to you softly but firmly, telling you that, “now, there ain’t nothin’ you gotta be upset about baby, you’re tryin’ your best ain’t you darlin’? hm? now i’m real proud of ya, tryin’ y’best like that, there aint no need for those tears now princess.”

and then he’ll let you collapse into his big hold, his arms engulfing you as he presses tender kisses to the top of your head, letting you get settled again as he soothes you.

and even if he tries to encourage you to speak and finish your sentences, sometimes he knows that ain’t always going to be the best thing for you.

like when you’re in a boutique, buying all them pretty dresses that elvis just loves to put you in, and the shop lady shows you something just gorgeous, and all you can do is try to get your words out.

“tha-a-tha-th-“ it’s on the fourth stutter that your eyes go all glossy and panicked, seeking out the big n powerful man like you’re just some little lost puppy searching for her owner.

and so he’ll step in, taking a hold of your little hand in his big coarse one and turning to the shop lady to speak on your behalf. “thanks honey, that’s awful kind of you to show us this. looks like it might just be the one that this little one is gon’ wear tonight.” he says fondly, the shop lady and elvis both looking at you with patience and a smile for you to swallow the lump in your throat and nod — that’s all you can manage for now but it’s enough. and sure, sometimes you feel like you’re four years old and unable to do anything yourself, not even speak, and the frustration gets to you, and the fear.

when you first began to date elvis, you’d wait for him to snap at you, the same way your parents would for embarrassing them in front of others, but elvis doesn’t do that — the thought wouldn’t enter his head.

no, elvis instead crouches down, whisperin’ “such a good girl,” to you. “such a polite, good girl huh?” he practically coos, knowing it’s hard for you, knowing how hard it is for you to even try to speak sometimes.

so elvis reminds you that you’ve tried and that is what matters most.

and elvis is always proud of you for trying. it’s okay if you can’t get your words out, he knows you and he understands you. and you love him, oh how you love him and how he look after you and takes care of you.

sometimes the stuttering makes you insecure, that elvis will get just as fed up as the memphis mafia do, or colonel tom does, but he doesn’t and he won’t.

he loves every part of you. stutter or no stutter, you’re his and he loves you.

note; had a bad week with my stutter, failed a test in a course i'm taking as it was part speaking and couldn't manage it, got rlly upset and rlly hating myself for it, so i thought writing down a lil about how elvis would be with me would help.

masterlist is here

request an elvis imagine etc here, i always love new ideas

love u all ❤️‍🩹