#elvis!sub smut

[kinascum]

CHARMED ᯓ★

Austin Butler x Reader

wc: 1.7k | summary: y/n, an interviewer at Variety, scores an interview with Austin Butler. | nav - taglist

FLUFF. no major warnings.

You sit in the quiet of the Variety office, surrounded by the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clack of a keyboard echoing through the open-plan space. Your heart beats a little faster than usual today as you prepare for the interview of a lifetime. The email with the subject line "Austin Butler Interview: Confirmed" still sits open on your screen, a stark reminder of the excitement and nerves you've been juggling since you read it. You've done this before, of course, but something about Austin feels different. Maybe it's the way his blue eyes seem to look right into your soul in every magazine cover, or the way his deep voice sends a shiver down your spine when you watch his interviews. You're a journalist with a knack for making even the most guarded celebrities open up, but you're not immune to the charm of Hollywood's golden boys.

The clock ticks closer to the scheduled time, and you stand, smoothing out the wrinkles in your blouse and taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. You've spent hours researching his career, from his early days on the small screen to his breakthrough performance as the king of rock 'n' roll. You've rehearsed your questions, honed them to perfection, and now all that's left is to wait for the moment when he walks through the door.

When he does, it's like the air in the room shifts. He's taller than you expected, with a presence that seems to fill the space around him. He's dressed casually, but it looks like he stepped out of a magazine spread, his jeans fitting just right, and a leather jacket thrown over a simple white tee. His eyes scan the room, and when they land on you, you feel a jolt of energy. He smiles, a genuine, warm smile that reaches his eyes, and you can't help but return it, feeling a little bit like you're melting.

You extend a hand, and he takes it, his grip firm but gentle. His skin is warm, and for a second, you're lost in the sensation of his touch. "Y/N," he says, as if he's known you for years, not minutes. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." His voice is like a caress, and you blush, hoping it's not too obvious. You've always been a little shy around the people you admire, and the fact that he's looking at you with such kindness isn't helping your nerves.

As you lead him to the interview set, you notice the way his boots scuff the floor, the quiet confidence in his stride. He seems to be at ease in his own skin, a stark contrast to the flurry of activity around you. You offer him a seat and take yours opposite, placing your notebook and pen on the table. You've done this a hundred times before, but today, your hand trembles ever so slightly. You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you thought you'd outgrown, and try to remember to breathe. The cameras start to roll, and you're aware of every little detail: the sound of the film crew moving around, the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the background, the way the lights cast a gentle glow on Austin's face.

He leans back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours. "So," he begins, his voice like a purr. "What's the first question you've been dying to ask me?"

You open your mouth to speak, but the words catch in your throat. You clear it, hoping he doesn't notice, and glance down at your notes. But as you look back up, you realize that the question you've so carefully prepared isn't what you want to ask anymore. There's something about the way he's looking at you, something that makes you feel seen in a way you never have before. And in that moment, you know that this interview is going to be unlike any other.

You take a deep breath and dive in, asking him about his preparation for his latest role, one that's earned him critical acclaim and a slew of award nominations. His eyes light up, and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he thinks back to those intense days and nights spent becoming someone else. He speaks slowly, thoughtfully, his voice deep and resonant as he recounts the hours of research, the months of practice, the moments of doubt and triumph. You're captivated by his dedication, his passion for his craft shining through every word.

As you listen, you find yourself leaning in, hanging on to every syllable. His words paint a vivid picture of his journey, and you're drawn into the story as if you were there with him. You ask follow-up questions, eager to learn more, and he responds with the same thoughtfulness, never rushing, always choosing his words with care. His honesty is refreshing, and you can't help but admire the way he's handled the pressures of stardom with such grace.

But then his gaze starts lingering on you a beat too long, and when he smiles, it's a smile that says he's not just talking about the movie anymore, and suddenly, the air in the room feels charged with electricity. You blush, your cheeks grow warm, and you feel your heart race in your chest. Your hand fidgets with the pen, and you realize you're playing with your hair again, a nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in high school. But with Austin, you're feeling anything but professional.

He leans closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and asks you a question about your own work, your favorite stories, your dreams. And you find yourself opening up to him, sharing things you never thought you'd say out loud, let alone on camera. His voice is a gentle coax, drawing you out of your shell, making you feel as if you're the most interesting person in the world. And maybe, just maybe, you start to believe it.

The conversation flows like a river, twisting and turning through topics of art, life, and love. His stories are peppered with laughter, and you find yourself smiling more than you ever have in an interview. His hand reaches out, resting on the arm of your chair, and you feel the warmth of his touch seep through the fabric as he pulls your chair closer to his. It's a simple gesture, but it sends a jolt through your body, making you aware of every inch of space between you as you catch a glimpse of how his muscles flex under the studio lights.

You notice the way his fingers tap against the chair, a subtle beat that matches the rhythm of your heart. His eyes, so blue and deep, seem to see right through you, and for a moment, you wonder if he can read your thoughts. You realize you're not just asking questions anymore; you're exchanging glances, sharing silent moments filled with understanding. The chemistry between you is palpable, and the crew seems to have melted into the background, leaving just the two of you in the spotlight.

The interview comes to a close, but the energy between you and Austin doesn't dissipate. As the crew starts to pack up, he lingers, his hand still resting on the arm of your chair. "Thank you," he says, his voice sincere. "That was one of the best interviews I've had in a long time." You blush, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "It was an honor."

He stands, and you follow suit, the space between you closing as you exchange pleasantries about the weather and the traffic. His eyes never leave yours, and you can't help but feel like there's something unspoken hanging in the air. He's charismatic, down-to-earth, and thoughtful—everything you've read about him, but seeing it up close is like experiencing the gravity of a star for the first time. His words come out measured and deliberate, each one chosen with care, as if he's afraid of saying too much or too little.

As you walk him out, the quiet of the office seems to amplify the sound of your shoes on the floor. The lights seem to dim, and the world outside the glass walls fades away. You find yourself lost in the depth of his gaze, the way his eyes seem to dance when he smiles. He pauses, his hand resting on the doorknob, and looks at you with an intensity that makes your knees wobble. "Y/N," he says, and the way he says your name feels like a secret shared between the two of you. "Could I interest you in a drink? To celebrate a successful interview?" His words are followed by a cheeky grin as he addresses you in an overly formal manner.

You're surprised by the invitation, but something in his tone tells you that it's more than just a professional courtesy. You hesitate, your heart racing as you laugh nervously. You've never mixed business with pleasure before, but the way he's looking at you, the way his thumb brushes against the back of your hand as he holds the door open, makes you want to throw caution to the wind. You nod, trying to sound casual. "Sure, I'd love that."

The bar he chooses is dimly lit, the kind of place where whispers are the loudest sounds and secrets feel safe. He orders a whiskey neat, and you ask for a glass of wine. As you sit across from him, you can't help but notice the way the light plays with the shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. He talks about his love for music, the way it's shaped him as a person and an actor, and you listen, enraptured. His passion is contagious, and you find yourself sharing stories from your own life, things you rarely speak of outside of your closest friends.

The conversation flows as easily as the alcohol, and you realize that you're not just talking about work anymore. You're laughing, sharing, connecting in a way you never have with an interview subject. His hand reaches across the table, and he takes yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. It's a simple touch, but it feels like a promise, a question, a door opening to something new.

A/N: kinda in a love-hate relationship with this one yall

tell me if yall want to be added to this masterlist's taglist !!🩶🩶🦫

[elviswhore69]

He walks like it's big 😫😫😫

[elvisabutler]

how about a fic where the reader (gn) overstimulates elvis to the point he's crying and like deep in subspace

catharsis

summary: elvis needs to let himself go- to relax. you know know just how to make that happen. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy ) x gender neutral reader word count: 2384 warnings: sub elvis. overstimulation ( in a way ). soft dom reader. oral ( m receiving ). handjobs. big daddy elvis. this has a one word title and it's big daddy, so expect a certain vibe from it. sexy but a lot of emotion in it. mentions of lifting up his stomach. tiny bit of foreskin and ball play nothing too much. mild insecurity bits on the part of elvis. author’s note: so anon i really enjoyed this prompt and am thankful you sent it to me. partially because i'm not super great at gender neutral but also because it was a nice prompt. so i have a feeling though that you might have preferred this to be another era of elvis and if it means anything i did write a beginning of another era before marina- bless her soul- sort of challenged me with this and was like "you don't see sub big daddy a lot" and i took that to mean let's try it. i hope you like it anyway since i did quite enjoy writing it and if you do want me to redo it i can. y'all know the drill on this, pick real elvis or austin elvis tbh.

Elvis does not necessarily like to give away how he's feeling when it comes to his exhaustion, his pain, his- everything. Sure, he'll let you know when he's angry and when he's happy as can be but when he's stressed or when he's feeling like everything is too much for him? You couldn't pry that out of him with all the bribery in the world. Still, his body- his body has a tendency to give him a way with the noises it produces. You can hear it in the way his knees crack just so or the way his mouth opens in a groan when he stands up to get something from another room. The ones when he sits down though- the groan that sounds like every bit of tension trying to escape him through his mouth? Those tell you just how pent up everything is for him, how much he's in need of some form of release or else it's going to come out as anger at the worst time or just act like a poison in his veins. Being gentle is the way you have to approach this though because you love Elvis lord help you but you do, but he can be skittish when it comes to things like this.

"Buntyn. You feeling alright?" You murmur, inching your body closer to his on the couch. He won't bolt and he won't lie if you're gentle if you take things slow with him. He won't lie if you allow yourself to lean your head against his shoulder, almost as if you want him to wrap his arm around your body and pull you closer into his warm plush body. He won't bolt if you allow yourself a moment to drape your arm across his stomach to pull him that much closer to you as if you're one.

The way his head turns to you slowly, almost as if his head has to extend a truly obscene amount of effort to actually turn to you, has you nearly asking again if he's alright, if he's taken his sleeping medication again to block out the way you know his mind is racing. Or perhaps he took something else, something for the headache his eyes are giving him this week. No, it's purely just done because he knows with you he can be slow, can savor the moments of having you near him, curled into him. His voice sounds rough, tired truly but it heightens his accent in ways that have you holding your breath. "Tired, Satnin. Ya know how I get."

You nod, your hand trailing across the expanse of his stomach, watching for him to attempt to shoo your hand away or suck it in to keep it away from you. You feel him shrink in on himself just a bit and you can't help the frown that crosses your features. Here was your partner, the love of your life, your rock shrinking himself down when he was always so much larger than life. If you could take away the insecurity once and for all just to allow him to enjoy these simple touches. To him to realized no matter what came to be there was no reason to shirk away. Every part of him, every inch of him was yours to have and hold and cherish just as he did yours. Even if he did stray, you knew what you were getting into from the get go.

"Satnin-" He starts before you shake your head, shushing him quietly.

"None of that Buntyn. Let me take care of you. Let me help you." Help him relax, help him feel good, help him with whatever could help him with.

The tension is his shoulders start to dissipate the second the words leave your lips. His eyes rake over your form before his lips upturn just a hair. "Gotcha work cut out for ya then."

The hand that had started to trace shapes on his stomach started a slow descent past it lifting it up the paunch and grasping at his uncut and partially aroused cock. "Not too much," you start, moving your hand back out from under his stomach, spitting on it before starting to run your hand up and down his shaft. There's a subtle but noticeable hitch in his breath as you move your hand almost as if he wasn't expecting it. As if he wasn't expecting the way his body immediately reacted.

Your thumb brushes against the tip as you inch back the foreskin of his cock. His hip buck involuntarily as you hum. It's almost as if you feel the need to study him. Feel the need to make sure your actions are heading the the right direction. Your grip tightens as you continue to have your thumb play with the tip even as the rest of your hand moves up and down. There's a throbbing between your legs as you focus only on Elvis, only on his pleasure, watching his face contort as he growls and groans and sounds that are downright animalistic pour out of his mouth. It's been a rough month and you both know it. Know just how much he needs this so he allows himself to trust you as he always does.

"That's my good boy. Letting me take care of you like this. Letting me help you." You practically coo the words, a sharp contrast to the obscene noises coming from under his stomach and between his legs as your hand pumps quicker, his copious amount of precum providing more ample lube than your spit had. "Wanna tell me what you want, Buntyn? What I should give you?"

Elvis eyes you through his hooded eyes, the choice you're giving him causing his arousal to curl further into his abdomen. "Mouth." A simple one word answer but one that requires more of an explanation. As if sensing that he needs to elaborate more he swallows and continues, his brain quickly starting to become more fuzzy the more he feels your hand and watches your hand play with him. "On me."

Now that was more like it. That was more like it, your good boy telling you, asking you what he wants. A hum of delight leaves your lips as you oblige, shifting your position on the couch and lifting up his stomach to fully allow yourself access to his cock. You shouldn't tease, you think, but there's something exquisite in looking up through your eyelashes at him and watching how his head tilts back at just your breath against the tip of his cock. There's something exquisite in how he knows when you're doing this he's not supposed to touch unless you give him the cue so his hands are curled into fists grabbing at the fabric of the couch- clawing at it. You place a kiss against his tip and hear what almost sounds like a whine leave his lips before you place another and another all over his cock. Still not actually taking him in your mouth, waiting to hear one final word before you do. Waiting to see if he's inching toward where you need him to be for this to achieve what you want it to. A hand of yours moves up to grab at one of his own and he greedily takes it as you place another kiss to the tip of his cock and he lets out another whine, this time with a word attached. "Please."

That flips a switch for you, allows you to immediately take the tip of him in your mouth, allows you to suck slowly around the tip before pushing him any further in his mouth. Your tongue plays a bit with the foreskin, trying to slip under it a little as he has to force himself to not buck into your mouth. Instead his grip on your hand tightens his rings digging into your flesh and clanging against yours just a little bit. He can't help but writhe a little though, even as he keeps the rest of his body still. You look up at him, trying to study his face and find him with his mouth open practically panting and groaning softly as his eyes flutter shut. He's almost there, almost where you feel he needs to be, he's losing that part of him that's trying to hold him back, that part that tells him to control how he's feeling and reacting. He deserves something for it, deserves to have your mouth finally take him fully, your lips closing around him and taking him deeper into your mouth.

A whimper leaves his mouth at that, at the warmth of your mouth fully enveloping his cock. He doesn't- he wants to let himself fall, let himself fully give himself over to what you're trying to do but he shouldn't. He shouldn't and yet he feels your free hand play with his balls, feels your free hand add just that little bit of extra something that has his hips rocking just barely against your mouth. You're trying to take care of him, trying to make him feel good in a way only you truly can. "Satnin- Y/N- let me, gotta take it easy on me." The words are choked out, almost as if he's trying to hold on to the last vestiges of control before he looks down and sees the look in your eyes. The look that tells him you have no intentions of taking it easy on him. That you want to see him relax. It has his heart stuttering in his chest for a second before he takes his free hand and touches your hair, tries to grab at it as he shakes his head. "Gonna give me those little deaths, ain't ya?"

You're gonna have him crying, he knows it, you so rarely do this but when you do all he remembers after the fact is how his brain shuts off, how he can only remember your mouth, your hand, your hole because that's all there was. The sensations of everything taking him to a place where he doesn't have to worry about a damn thing. Your lips have curled into a smirk around his cock as you nod, somehow in sync with the way your head bobs up and down. It shouldn't be what has him finally letting go, it shouldn't but he thinks it might be. You feel something almost at the same time he does, feel how his body is going a little lax though you know you want him to tighten just a bit more before feeling every bit of tension flutter away. You know- You remember the last times. "Gonna- Y/N- don't. Play nice."

He mutters the words breathlessly, almost as if he doesn't know what he's asking for and you take it to mean don't play nice. Since playing nice in this situation is pushing him to the brink. Your mouth tightens and your hand moves around, playing with his balls, rubbing where your mouth can't touch, playing with his stomach as his noises above you get to be more intense. You hear what feels sounds like a sob, and almost pull away before he pushes you back down onto his cock. It's not him asking you to stop, it's him doing what you're asking of him, doing what you want him to do in this moment. It's him letting go, allowing himself to feel what he wants to feel, to release what he needs to release in these moments.

It's just you and him and the way his brain isn't thinking on anything but your mouth and his cock and your hands and his cock and how he just feels the care and love you feel for him in this moment. How you just want to be there for him, how you're there to take care of him like he does for you. The world is just nothing but both of you and the pleasure he's chasing as he feels every breath from your nose and every imperfection on your skin and on his as they meet. It's nothing but the noises and tears you're pulling from him as he feels himself slowly building toward his orgasm. You pull away just a bit and he whines and hears himself through a tunnel saying don't before you smile and keep your mouth on his cock.

Normally he'd warn you he's about to come, normally he'd tell you ahead of time because it can be a downright mess if he doesn't but in this moment he doesn't even realize he's about to until it starts to shoot out of him and down your throat. His hand on your head falls to your shoulder as he can't even force himself to keep a hold of whatever sort of grip he might have tried to have on your hair. You feel his muscles relax in a way they don't even do when he's asleep and you know you've done what you set out to do. You realize as you're struggling to swallow and not choke on his copious amount of cum that it's worked. Elvis is more- Elvis got what he needed from you, what he needed in general. When you think he's finished you slowly ease your mouth off of him and look up at him. His head is tilting forward as he looks at you, his hand that's on your shoulder moving to wipe off the excess cum from the side of your mouth so gently you shudder despite yourself. You might have cum but it doesn't matter if you have or not because he did, he's had his release that has tears still coming up every so often and has you nuzzling his thighs and placing a kiss or two on his stomach and chest as you finally reach his mouth while a small smile.

"Bath?" He whispers, sniffling just slightly.

"Gotta take care of you after you let go." You answer, nuzzling at his nose, and running your hand through his hair. "Can you stand up? Or do you need a minute."

He nods before he holds up a finger. "Just a minute."

"Take all the time you need, baby boy."

taglist: @ab4eva, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @blurredcolour, @steph-speaks, @softsatnin, @powerofelvis, @thatbanditqueen, @mooodyblue, @notstefaniepresley, @tacozebra051. i am going to actually make up that taglist form tonight or this week. apologies if you wanted to be tagged and i didn't tag you.

[dreamingofep]

Trying to Get to You✨

A sub!Elvis fic coming soon💕

UPDATE

Now posted!

[oneforthemunny]

light my morning sky |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: three wedding ceremonies, and it's stop number two in vegas. a night with your friends, celebrating you the way both of you love, and it leads to a rather intense wedding night for the two of you in sin city.

contains: minors dni. smut. fluff but mainly smut. drugs and alcohol, overall just partying in vegas. getting married in vegas. dom!eddie x sub!reader. bratty overtones to sub!reader. more of a soft!dom with rockstar!eddie bc he's in loooveeeee. spanking with implement (paddle/crop). thigh riding kinda. crawling. pinvsex. language. nothing too harsh or mean bc it's their (second) wedding night lol.

"I now pronounce you married." Elvis, or one of his many replicas on the strip, rasped in his low, exaggerated drawl mimicking the beloved singer. His hair perfectly coiffed, sideburns trimmed, and dressed in a black jumpsuit with wings, red and gold sequins trim.

Flamboyant, over the top- it was Eddie's dream.

Eddie grinned at you, his hands in yours, thumb brushing over the large stone on your left hand. He looked like The King himself in his white tasseled suit, pointed collar, and blue beading down the deep V of his shirt- an identical suit made to look exactly like Elvis' infamous jumpsuit from his time in Las Vegas in the 70's. It had been a prop in some show your father was producing, one that you and Eddie borrowed after the wedding.

"Eddie, you may now kiss your little darlin' here." The officiant grinned, stepping back towards the faux-rose garland, strung with bright lights.

Your heart swelled in your chest, just as light and giddy as the first ceremony, letting Eddie cup your face, pulling you in to seal with a kiss, far more passionate and needy than the ceremony in California.

Cheers erupted from the small crowd of friends you'd rallied for the big day- well, the second big day. Their booze soaked giggles and screeches mashed to the tune of Can't Help Falling In Love pouring out of the static filled old speakers. Flashes blinded your vision, even behind your closed eyes, camera clicks and bright snaps of camera light capturing every moment.

For a moment, you tensed, aware of your rounded shoulders, of Eddie's hand grabbing at your ass, eyes opening and cutting towards the aisle. Jonathan stood there, face hidden by the camera. Eddie had insisted his friend from Hawkins come instead, replace the snooty photographer that had done the ceremony before. Your parents had raved about him, but Eddie didn't see what the big deal was with him. He just made you both look so stiff, so unnatural in your portraits.

Eddie's hand slid up the silk material of your tiny dress, gripped onto your hip, bunching the material. You could feel his wedding band in the small of your back when he pressed his hand there, steadying you before he tipped you back. A deep dip of a kiss, your thigh hiked around his hip.

The small bouquet of white roses you'd bought at the front of the chapel fell onto the patterned carpet, your friends' screeching and whooping laughs ignited by the dramatics. They expected nothing less from Eddie- from both of you.

"Lord have mercy," The officiant laughed, fanning himself dramatically, long metallic sleeves rippling. "These two have lots of hunk-a, hunk-a burnin' love, don't they folks?"

Eddie could feel your lips twitch against his, a snort of a giggle, hot air blowing against his lip. His dopey and dimpled grin met you when you finally pulled apart. It left you weak, blistering in his intense, love filled gaze.

A pop of Perignon filled the room, Gareth and Farrah bumbling closer with two glasses, trying to stop the excess spilling over. A celebratory toast to the two of you, to keep your buzz going after the break in the bender you took for the ceremony.

Since you'd landed on Thursday night, the party hadn't stopped. Liquor flowing, loud music, sloppily piling into a stall with your own friends, taking bumps off your room keys before stumbling back to the club in your designer shoes, ready to keep the party going.

The afterparty was no different. Tucked away in a private villa at Ceasar's, you didn't make it to the club. Eddie had insisted he had to go first, nearly pushing Jeff over to get to the door, scooping you up in his arms and walking you through the door.

"Watch your fuckin' head, baby- don't lean back." You could smell the alcohol on his breath, a pungent mixture of too many to name, mixed with the faintest whiff of smoke from his cigarettes.

It didn't take long for Nick to find the boom box, blaring his party mixtape at a wall shaking volume, everyone scattering. Some to the kitchen to scour through the piles of empty bottles for a full one, others to collapse into the couch and let someone line up a pick me up before plunging in the hot tub outside.

"You," Eddie slurred, his head dipping down to press against your forehead. "Look so fuckin' beautiful." Nose brushing against yours, red from his own party favors.

You giggled nasally, blinking blearily eyed to focus on him to close to you. The effects of the tequila and champagne and hodge podge of liquor you'd mixed and consumed catching up with you.

"You know what, baby? You look really good, Mr. Munson." You whispered, hand cupping his jaw. "Like- hic!- too good to be fucking true."

"You're sweet talkin' me? Huh? Bein' s'nice to me?" Eddie grinned, fingers sinking into your hips.

"Yeah." You hummed.

"Tryna get my pants off or somethin', huh, baby? G-Get in my pants by bein' so sweet? You think that's gonna work?" Eddie teased, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeahhh..." You nodded, staggering against him, manicured nails raking down his bare chest. "We have to- to consummate the marriage, Ed."

"What?" Eddie furrowed his brows. "We gotta do what? Wait- I thought you wanted to fuck."

You laughed, head tilting back letting out that mean little cackle that always got Eddie worked up- a little mocking, mostly genuine. It left him flushed in heat, crawling up his chest and splattering over his cheeks.

"You dumbass, that is what that means." You rolled your eyes at him.

Eddie's eyes narrowed with you, catching your chin easily. "Oh? That's how you wanna play tonight, hm?" He shook his head, your body erupting in a fiery heat. "You're not gonna be nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to you." You countered, hand closing around his wrist gently, steadying yourself. "You're the one who's mean."

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned, eyes shining, glimmering in the low light of the room, the music from the other side thudding in a low roar, still shaking the walls. "You want me to be mean to you tonight? That's how you wanna do this?"

"Yeah." You sighed, a devious little grin that had Eddie's heart swelling, body buzzing with bouts of electricity. A shock to his system that brought him into something animalistic and primal and thrilling. Something new he only felt with you.

"I was hopin' you'd want to. Figured you would. Went ahead and got you a little somethin'." Eddie hummed, pulling you close into him. His breath hot on your cheek, booze soaked and warm on your skin.

"A gift?" Your eyes lit up, bright and devious all at once. Positively troublesome.

"Yeah. A gift. Just for you, baby." Eddie's lip dragged over your cheek, nose, hands sliding up your neck into your hair. "A wedding gift, but-but not for the wedding. For the after."

"Mm," You moaned lightly, his lips brushing with yours, teasing. Just enough to make you want to kiss him fully, leave you waiting and wanting more. "It's after now, Ed." You batted your lashes up at him.

"Is it?" Eddie muttered, fingers curling around your hair the back of your head.

"Yeah." You whispered, voice raspy from the liquor. "Time to give me my gift."

"Ooh, you're gonna be demanding?" Eddie pulled back from you, holding you at arms length so he could see you. Your pout, glassy eyes rounding instinctively- a classic look, teetering on demanding and begging, a signature look for you.

"'M not being demanding." You huffed, hands sliding over his arms. He could feel the diamonds of your wedding band scratch lightly over his skin. "You said you had a gift for me."

Eddie bit back a smirk, squeezing your shoulders with firm, gentle affection. You grinned triumphantly when he stumbled to his closet, puling a red gift bag tied together with a gold bow.

He smirked at your squeal of delight, hands clapping together excitedly when he gave you the bag. "What is it?" You beamed, a peal of excited, drunken giggles spilling from your chest.

"Open it." Eddie clicked, shaking his head at you. "What's in it- open the damn thing, baby. It's a present. 'M not tellin' you w-what I got you." His words slurred, still silly and playful.

You laughed, head spinning and intoxicatingly airy with glee, unraveling the gold spun ribbon with a dramatic tug of your hand. Underneath the piles of tissue paper, a long box lied at the bottom.

There, inside the felt lined box, a small heart shaped paddled. Black and leather, with a black, metal handle. It was small, smaller than most of Eddie's chosen paddles. The heart shape at the end firmer than the crop, not as flimsy as you expected.

"Look," Eddie pointed, swaying gently in front of you. He turned the handle clumsily around his hands before he turned it to you. There in etched gold, your names and the date carved into the metal handle.

"Ed." You cooed, head tilting back to meet his gaze. "You got this f'me?"

"Well, kinda." Eddie nodded. "I mean, for me to use on you, but yeah. Wanted something to-to remember this by."

Lips pulling in a smile, you stood, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush to your own chest. "You're so sweet." You hum, swaying with him softly. "So sweet to me."

Eddie's cheeks flushed, matching the drunken red heat painted on his neck. "Yeah." He hummed, hands sliding over your cheeks, smearing your already rubbed off foundation, tilting your head back towards him.

"'M not gonna be sweet to you f'long." He muttered, lip twitching in a curling grin. Staticky prickles of excitement licked at your neck, shimmering all the way down to your core. Eddie's tongue ran over his teeth, brow raising. "That alright with you, baby?"

"Yes." You whispered, nails digging into his hands lightly, steadying yourself.

Eddie caught your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "Who?" His tone dropped, low and raspy but punctuated.

The nervous, maybe excited, giggle spilled out of your lips before you could stop it. Eyes shining, swaying with excitement, you batted your lashes towards him. "Yes, Sir." You purred, hands sliding, nails raking down his forearms.

Eddie grinned, ducking down to catch your lips in a hungry kiss. Hand pressed to the small of your spine, you could taste the liquor on his tongue as it slid past your teeth. A sloppy, needy, alcohol fueled make out. Hands grabbing, pulling at the other, pushing your bodies closer and closer together until it felt like they might fuse together, mold into one. Hands sliding, bunching the material of your dress up your hips.

"Wait!" Your eyes flew open, pulling apart with an urgency that had Eddie jumping.

"What? What's wrong?" Eddie's brows furrowed, vision fading blearily in and out of focus.

"I forgot," You turned towards your suitcase. "I bought something special for tonight. S-Somethin' to put on." You muttered, swaying drunkenly, hands on his waist to steady yourself.

"Baby, it's alright. Just save it for tomorrow-"

"-No." Your tone was cutting, huffy with a hint of demanding- bratty. You did it best, Eddie supposed, his cock twitching at the sound.

He wanted to grab the paddle, haul you over his knee right then, feel you scratch and scream at him like old times. Instead, he let you stomp off, bunching a flash of white material to your chest, stumbling towards the bathroom.

It was worth it, Eddie decided. Legs spread on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing with anticipation until the doors opened.

"Are you ready?" He could hear your grin, hidden by the door.

"Yeah. Show me, baby. Come on out." Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin.

The door opened painfully slow, your own teasing reveal, until you stood before him in a tiny, white, see through lacy lingerie set. A classic, more scandalous and revealing than before. Bra and panties so revealing it left little to the imagination, hip hugging garter that connected to two leg holders, both with their own loops. Eddie pictured for a moment tying you up by them, stringing the rope through them, tying your legs wide open and spending the rest of the night- hell, the whole week in between them.

Maybe tomorrow night. Tonight, he had other plans.

Eddie's loud wolf whistle mixed with your bubbling giggles. "Holy shit, baby, look at you. No, look at me, but I wanna look at you." Eddie rasped, hands sliding over your exposed skin, rubbing the lace of your garter, pulling the tiny strap of your panties so it snapped to your skin.

"You like it?" You whispered, watching his eyes carefully. You knew he did. He always did.

"You kidding? Love it." Eddie grinned. "Worth the wait, beautiful."

Your cheeks burned with a rush of euphoric excitement, hands sliding up his shoulder, your ring sparkling even under the dim lights of the room.

"Ok, I'm ready now." You said boldly, lashes batting up to Eddie sweetly. "I just wanted to put this on for you."

"Oh? You're ready?" Eddie snorted lightly, lips curling in a smirk. "You callin' the shots?"

You huffed, an eye roll that had Eddie swallowing hard, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. "No," Your tongue clicked sarcastically. "Obviously you're in charge for right now."

"Oh, it's like that?" Eddie scoffed. "You're gonna act like that?"

"I'm not acting like anything, Ed." You bit your lip playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about." Oh, you were playful tonight. Eddie's heart swelled, palms twitching with excitement.

"Hm," Eddie hummed, tongue running down the inside of his cheek.

"Why don't you go get your gift." Eddie nodded towards the discarded paddle at the other end of the bed. You stepped towards it. "Nuh-uh-uh." Eddie clicked, head shaking.

"You know how you're supposed to get things for me." His eyes darkened, narrowing towards you.

Your thighs twitched, aching between them with a familiar heat. "Ed," Whiny and nasally, shoulders slumping for effect.

"You're gonna whine? C'mon, I know you know better." Eddie shook his head. "I don't wanna be mean to you tonight. Not too mean, anyways. Don't make me be mean. Go get your gift and bring it here, you know what to do. You be good for me, and I'll be good to you."

It didn't take much convincing, not when your head was spinning the way it was, desperate to please him. You knew he was true to his word, that he'd make you feel so good, which was exactly why you sunk to your knees. Crawling across the carpeted floors, you crept slowly towards the paddle.

Eddie watched through heavy lids, the sway of your hips, tiny panties riding up into your ass with every crawl. Your eyes met his when you raised up, gently grabbing the paddle off the bed. Eddie's heart lurched with excitement when you slipped it between your teeth, sinking back to your knees.

"Holy shit... Baby," Eddie groaned, leg shaking furiously when you rounded the corner of the bed, crawling straight for him. "Look at you. Jesus Christ, you know what you're doin'?"

You sunk back on your knees, settling between Eddie's open legs, eyes rounded so sweetly up at him it answered his question- you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

"'M just trying to be good." You whispered sweetly, head tilting to the side when he took to the paddle from you. "I just want to be so good for you always and forever, Mr. Munson."

Eddie thought he might snap the paddle in half, grip strangling in a tight hold around the pole. For a second, he contemplated again diving right between your legs, kinky foreplay be damned. Instead, he pulled you over his knee, let you straddle his thigh, covered cunt hot on his knee.

"Look at me." Eddie rasped, pulling your chin up, letting it rest on his chest, your body folded over his. "I wanna look at you. Wanna see you the whole time."

You pressed your lips together, swallowing back a pathetic whine. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other dragging the paddle along your exposed cheeks.

"You wanna be good for me?" Eddie whispered. You didn't reply, didn't get the chance to before the paddle snapped onto your ass. A jump, a whine, followed by Eddie's coaxing whisper back onto his knee.

"I asked you somethin', sweetheart." Eddie muttered, the crop tapping your other cheek. "You wanna be good for me?" Two sharp hits one to each cheek had you hissing.

"Yes." You hissed through gritted teeth, stilling your hips not to grind on him, hump his leg mercilessly. You knew that'd just fuel his cruel teasing even more.

"Yeah?" You yelped at the sharp sting.

"Yes, I wanna be good for you." Your spine ached at the uncomfortable bend in position, still you didn't dare move. It was true, you did want to be good for him.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Eddie whispered, nose nearly touching yours.

You bit back a giggle, stopped by three more sharp spanks of the crop to your ass, already itchy with growing agitation. "Yeah." Your eyes shone up at Eddie's, a silly, love sick grin that had him swooning.

"Yeah?" Eddie mocked back with a light snort. It was growing harder to keep the mean, domineering persona he tried to. When you were being this sweet, when you were being so good for him.

The crop fell again, this time your hips did roll. Just enough to dull the ache between your legs, a momentary release that had you melting further into his chest.

Eddie didn't miss it, pulling you closer to him, readjusting you on his thigh. "I don't know if I believe you." Eddie hummed, cracking the crop down again in short, sharp successions. "Are you really gonna be good to me? For the rest of time?"

You whimpered, hips rocking slowly, a steady rhythm that nearly had your eyes rolling back. The burning stretch of your ass mixed with the slow, pleasure-filled rolls of your hips.

"I will, I promise." You hummed in a high, breathy tone. "I swear I will be. I'll be a good wife for you. Forever and ever and ever."

Eddie's heart nearly burst at the words. How sweet they still sounded, even if you had technically been his wife for a few weeks now.

He let the paddle fall, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you into his lap. Lips on yours, your legs wrapping around his hips before he rolled the two of you, body slotting over yours, drunken giggles filling the air.

Hand intertwining with the other, Eddie's eyes rolled back at the feeling of your ring scraping over his when he finally slid into you. Mrs. Munson, forever. Forever his, just as he was forever yours.

Eddie had you pressed against the window of the suite, hips rutting into the fat of your ass, marked with the etching heart shape of the paddle. Overlooking the city's skyline, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Your cheek pressed to the window, Eddie's pressed to yours, skin smushed to skin, the two of you weren't close to being done. Just getting started, started on forever, started on a life together.

For now, in a hotel room in Vegas, insatiably happy and in love with one another. Mr. and Mrs. Munson, for the second time.

[jamespmarchapologist]

˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚ AUSTIN BUTLER ˚ · .˚ ༘🦋

Actor!Austin -

Be my baby : Sub!Aus smut

Sweet nothings : Smut

Trouble : Smut

Winding down : Fluff

Orgasm denial : Smut

Austin!Elvis -

After midnight - Smut

Safety - Fluff

Hands all over - sub!e smut

Acts of lust - Smut

Austin!Sebastian -

Brat : Smut

Tension : Smut

[atleastpleasetelephone]

I love your stories so so so much and I’ve been looking for a writer to write smut for me…. My request is reader pinning Elvis to his vanity and she’s behind him and she reaches her hand down his pants and like jerks him off … and he gets all flustered and stuff.. and it leads to maybe bigger things but sub Elvis would kill 😩😩

A/N: Thanks anon for this fun request!! I have incorporated it into kinktober.

Kinktober Day 11 - Leather/latex

Pairing: 1968!Elvis and dom!reader

Word count: 927

TWs: Dominant reader, submissive Elvis, hair pulling, handjob, humiliation kink, degredation kink (ish), praise kink, reader calls herself mama, bit of name-calling.

Kinktober masterlist

Part 2 is here

“What do you mean, you have to go to the aftershow?” You call into the closet where Elvis is currently changing. 

“Just what I said, baby. I won’t be long. You know you can come with me if you want. I’d love to have you on my arm.” Elvis calls back. 

He knows you don’t like schmoozing so the suggestion is kind of pointless, but he asks anyway. He’s not lying about wanting you on his arm. You’re so pretty you tie the Mafia up in knots even in your casual wear. 

You groan. “Not that boring shit. No thank you.”

He chuckles as he walks out of the closet and over to the vanity to look at himself in the mirror. You do a double-take. He’s wearing what looks like a latex suit. A latex suit to go to an aftershow he knows you won’t want to attend. Just what is he planning on doing?

His eyes flick up to look at yours in the mirror. He notes the shocked look on your face with some amusement as he applies the tiniest amount of mascara to his lashes. He’d worn this outfit deliberately, hoping to persuade you into coming with him. 

“You okay, baby?” He teases. 

“Why’re you wearing that?” You ask, with a frown. 

“Why not?” He straightens up and pushes his hair back from his face a little. 

You stand, moving behind him. You’re almost as tall as him in flats and you still have your heels on from watching him at his show that evening, so your head easily goes over his shoulder. 

You put a hand on his chest, looking at him in the mirror. “Because you already have me. You don’t need to attract any other girls.”

“Baby I’m not trying to-”

You cut him off by pushing him roughly against the vanity, making his upper thighs collide with the edge and causing him to overbalance, his hands catching himself on the table top. He looks up at his reflection through his hair but doesn’t move from the position you’ve put him in. He’s breathing hard, slightly overwhelmed at your sudden show of dominance. You’ve always been a little feisty but this seems different. 

You run a hand over his latex-clad ass, then both hands firmly over his hips and waist. 

“Stand up.” 

He does as he’s told, face a little flushed now. 

“Why’re you dressed like such a little slut?” You ask, your hand running down his bare chest now, heaving under your touch. 

“”M not… I just… I wanted…” he pants, feeling himself getting hard in the confines of the suit. 

Your hand slides down his chest and then into his pants, wrapping around his dick. His face gets redder and he starts to huff and puff. 

“H-honey… what’re ya… I have ta…”

“If you’re gonna dress like a little slut, I’m gonna treat you like one,” you tell him, starting to move your hand on him. 

He groans, wondering what has got into you. You usually want to be on top and you have been known to spank him occasionally but… this seems different somehow. You’ve definitely never called him a slut before. But… he… likes it? 

You grab a fistful of his hair and pull his head back, kissing and nipping at his exposed throat, tonguing his Adam’s apple as it bobs uncertainly. You’re not sure what’s come over you. You like being in charge in the bedroom but it’s always been a bit of a tentative negotiation with him. You know he likes to think he calls the shots, but you choose when and where sex happens and you’re always on top unless you decide otherwise. You have to admit you’ve had some pretty nasty thoughts about him from time to time, imagining him following you around on his hands and knees, begging you for it. This outfit though, it’s doing things to you in real time. He’d look really good with a collar and a lead right now…

“Honey, I’m g-getting close…” he stammers. 

You run your teeth down his neck, growling into his ear. “Good. Cum for Mama.”

Elvis is torn between the desperate need for release and the feeling that he really shouldn’t cum in this outfit. He’s supposed to be going to the afterparty, and he’s already showered. Your hand starts to move more quickly on him, and the combination of the sweet friction and the way your other hand continues to pull his hair is making it very hard for him to resist his climax. 

“H-honey, my pants…” he tries, biting his lower lip hard to try and stop himself from cumming.

“You’re gonna cum in them,” you tell him, your voice low, humming in his ear. “Like a dirty slut.”

He groans loudly, the words turning him on more than he thought was possible. 

“And then you’re gonna go downstairs and talk to all those pretty girls,” you continue, your hand moving somehow even faster, “knowing I made you make a mess in your pants.”

The noise he makes in response is almost inhuman. “Y-y-yes,” he stutters, eyes squeezing shut as he feels his release in the base of his dick. 

“Good boy,” you tell him and he cries out, tumbling over the edge into ecstasy. 

Pulling your hand back out of his pants you shake it almost disdainfully, trying to get the cum off. You look at him in the mirror, hands on the table top, gasping for breath, and slap his ass.

“Go on. They’re waiting for you.”

***

Taglist:

Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

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

[lustnhim]

⚡️ “masterlist” ⚡️

welcome to my master list! my requests are: open! key: 🫧 - smut! / 🦋 - fluff! / 🦢 - angst! / 🕊️- dead dove!

🫧 “can’t sleep?” - elvis x fem! reader (part one of two)

summary: you’re lisa-marie’s best friend and you come over for a sleepover- but you can’t help but notice her dad has taken a liking to you…

🫧 “too purty…” - elvis x fem! reader (part two of two)

summary: the night before elvis had "taken care"of you in hopes to help you sleep, but he’s not done yet, he wants to take your virginity.

🫧🕊️ “last nerve.” - dom! elvis x fem! reader

summary: elvis is tired of you talking back, so he’s gonna put you in your place.

🫧 “impatient.” - sub! elvis x fem! reader

summary: you’re too busy to help elvis out with his ‘issue’ so he tries to take care of it himself, but you catch him.

🫧 “poor thing” - dom! elvis x fem! reader

summary: elvis catches you grinding on his pillow.

🫧 “grown” - elvis x fem! reader

summary: your dad and elvis are really close friends so when elvis invited your whole family over to graceland for the 100th time, you didn’t expect much more than another boring evening

🫧 “my boy” - sub! elvis x fem! reader

summary: short and sweet submissive elvis <3

🫧🕊️ “yungen” - stepdad! elvis x fem! reader

summary: after an argument with your mother, your stepdad, elvis, takes you out on a drive for some one on one time.

🫧🦋 “toothless” elvis x fem! reader

summary: elvis wants to make sure you love him, even when he’s toothless.

🫧 “little sister” elvis x fem! reader

summary: elvis is dating your big sister, but after he sees you much you’ve grown– he can’t help himself.

🫧🕊️ “corruption” elvis x fem! reader

summary: elvis gets a chance to have you alone for a bit, so when he sees the chance to have you he takes it.

🫧 “needy” dom! elvis x fem! reader

summary: you can’t think straight when you're so sleep deprived n’ horny– but elvis knows what to do once he catches you grinding on his thigh. 

🫧 “full” elvis x fem! reader

summary: elvis wants to breed you.

🫧🦋“doll dizzy” elvis x fem! reader

summary: elvis invites you over to his newly purchased home, graceland, for a sleepover since he hasn’t seen you in so long- you’re just as perfect as he remembers.

🫧🕊️“goo goo muck.” elvis x fem! reader

summary: his bloodlust is getting harder to control, especially when he sees you late one night. 

WIPS: two! —

how long do requests take?: depends on how many requests before you! i try and write each one i get but sometimes i hit a blank space and try to work on another. —

inspo: i listen to a lot of music while i write, i like noise it helps me concentrate lolol! —

taglist: commenting on any post associated with my fics and asking to be tagged will u get u tagged! —

last updated: 11/7/24

to anyone who reads: thank you so so much for ur support! it means so much to me and i love u so much <3 —

“all work featured is mine! please do not copy my work and put it anywhere or claim it as your own <3” — love, viv

[jhoneybees]

Something different.

Hello Hello 🤗 Here is a fic for you lovelies! Now I might make this a two part fic, what do you think?

Characters: Early 70s!Elvis X reader

Warnings/triggers: SMUT HEHE, neck riding, daddy used in a sexual context, Elvis being a bit of a sub, reader being a power bottom, swearing, blowjob

Tags: @another-identityofmine @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a @theelvisprincess

_____________________________________________

You love it when Elvis takes control, being that hot and sexy daddy who would manhandle you around like you’re his ragdoll but recently you feel like the balance between the two of you has been a bit off.

You want to control him too.

So one evening, you get yourself all dolled up. Preparing to seduce the man by wearing your long, silky, curly hair down and a pretty yellow floral cotton nightie hugging all your curves.

You sit yourself on the edge of the bed to wait for him to walk into the bedroom, smiling when he does. You immediately get up and move towards him. Sneakily slithering your arms behind him to lock the door and onto his shoulder to rest around his neck. “Daddy…”

“What’re yer doin’?” He grins.

You both know whenever you would use that name, something sexual is gonna happen and as you giggle and let Elvis hold onto your firm hips, his voice drops to a sultry tone. “What does my baby want?”

Biting your lower lip with a wide grin, you lift your chin a little slowly sliding your hands to play with his collar. “Well… I’ve been thinking about something…”

“Yeah?”

Lifting your eyes to stare into the tall male’s blue ones, you can feel a heartbeat between your legs. “Mm, yeah…you know how you control things in the bedroom?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I thought maybe…tonight can be a little different.”

Elvis quirks an eyebrow and when you pull down on his collar to get a kiss from him, he hums a bit unsure. “Ya sure you want that?”

You nod, tilting your head to the side. “Something wrong with that?”

“No, nothin’ wrong with that, baby...jus’... I like how I control things…”

You giggle. “I know you do but it’s good to try something a little different.” smiling up at him as he quietly agrees and nods, you grab his wrist “C’mon.” guiding him to sit on the bed. Pushing on his chest to make him lay down and crawl to straddle his lap. You lean down to kiss him gently, slowly picking up the intensity the more time passes by. Using your little fingers to go and undo the buttons on his dress shirt, hearing him groan as you let your tongue enter his mouth to taste him.

His big, calloused hands sliding up your thighs and gripping your hips, you giggle at how he’s trying to make you grind on him. “Nuh uh, none of that.” You pull away, shaking your head.

He groans. “Why not?”

“You’ll see…just…be patient.”

He grumbles but quickly softens up again as you push your tongue back through his lips. “Mmm…”

“Mhm…” You hum in response, carefully moving his shirt to expose his toned hairy chest making him sigh through his nose at the cool air touching his skin. You stay making out with him for a while and when he glides his fingers under your nightie to feel your ass, you shuffle back and begin to kiss his jaw. Along to his earlobe, under his ear and down his neck.

“You like that?”

“Mhm.” He moans, stretching his head up to the side to give you more room.

You smirk, giving warm tongue kisses on his tender skin, you rub your hands up and down his waist and whisper little sweet nothings in his ear. “Daddy’s so sexy tonight…”

“Playin’ a dangerous game ‘ere.” He breathes, his hands finally moving to feel your ass. “What’s this?” He asks, you straighten up and playfully grind on his clothed dick making him moan.

“Wanna see?”

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He smirks.

You purr sensually and start to take your nightie off, exposing your almost completely naked body with how your full breasts jiggle the tiniest bit and thin white straps trail over the shape of your hips connecting to skimpy little panties that match your nightie.

“F*ck me, baby…” Elvis groans loudly.

“Hmm?” You watch his eyes with a smirk as he takes your body in, chewing on your bottom lip feeling his hard on poke underneath you. He starts to breathe harder and suddenly, you feel his fingers grip hard on the back of your thighs and flip you over to fall on the bed making him go on top.

“Elvis!”

“Goddamn…” He moans at the sight under him, leaning down to kiss your neck. You push on his chest but that doesn’t do anything so you reach down to grab the back of his knees and hook your leg on his hip with all of your might, flipping him back onto the bed and quickly moving to sit on his chest. “Baby!” His eyes widen at the unexpected strength you have.

You laugh a little out of breath. “Daddy isn’t being patient.”

Taking you to karate lessons was probably a bad idea.

“Honey-”

“No, you listen to me…” you coo at him.

Shaking your head when he tries to protest. “No baby, c’mon…let daddy take of ya, want ya so bad.”

“Nuh uh, want ya to listen to me.”

He groans. “Baby-” you cut him off again, this time moving to straddle his throat. Giggling as he gasps and his blue eyes stare into yours in shock.

“Daddy’s gonna listen to me…if not, no sex.”

Elvis’ groan rumbles against your clothed pussy.

“Gonna listen?” You ask with a knowing look and when he attempts to lift you again and tells you to be a good girl you punish him by grinding on his neck. “So you’re not gonna listen.”

He grunts, his eyes fluttering as your pussy grows more wet. He can feel the warmth and moisture coming from you against his skin and with his big hands cupping your ass, he squeezes your cheeks hard.

“Stay still and let me make myself feel good, okay?” Combing your fingers through his hair as his eyes dart all over your body.

“Mhm-” He hums, gasping ever slightly when your hips begin to move. Your own hands slide up your stomach to fondle with your hardened nipples, you sigh as your thighs carefully squeeze around his neck rubbing your wet panties against his throat.

“Baby-” his voice slightly out of breath as he watches the way your long hair falls over the sides of your breasts gently bouncing, framing them just right with your pretty little sighs and soft pants falling from your pink lips.

“Yeah?” You pant quietly. Your back arching a little to get that right angle wanting to feel your thinly clothed clit right up on him.

Elvis moans at the sight. His dick painfully hard, straining against his pants. You’re so sexy when you use him like this. “Feel good?”

You moan and nod.

Your jaw falls slack as the tension in the pit of your stomach builds, your moans get a little louder the more you grind and you bite your lip harshly as his large hands grip onto your ass like a vice. “feels good, daddy…oh baby feels good…” moaning out mindlessly.

“M-Mhm- mm-” He's starting to lose more of his breath, it's getting harder to breathe as you go faster and faster. He realises he loves it though. “Make yerself- feel good, baby-” His cock twitching from how your arousal starts to slide down the sides of his neck.

“F*ck Daddy…” You sigh.

Hands tangled in his hair and eyes hooded, the pleasure grows and grows and before you know it it boils over and you fall into complete ecstasy. “Ohh Elvis!”

You buck your hips against his Adam's apple, he chokes a little and you moan loudly at how good it feels, soon lazily shuffling back to sit on his stomach with his hands rubbing the top of your thighs to calm you down from your high.

“Naughty little girl…” He breathes in the hot room.

You giggle to yourself seeing him eating you alive with his piercing blue eyes. “Gotta give something in return now, baby.” the corners of his lips curl up into a smirk.

“Can’t leave Daddy, hard?” You ask in a playful tone, getting up onto your knees as your hands reach in between to undo his belt.

“Mmm no, no you can’t…” chuckling low, his lustful gaze watches as you grab his dick and pull it out of his pants, licking his lips at your eyes filled with eagerness.

You bend down, pulling his cock into your wet mouth. You swirl your tongue around and press your lips around his girth making Elvis’ eyes roll back and hit his head on the pillows.

Feeling himself twitch in your mouth as you take him deeper. “F*ck baby…” He groans, blindly gripping your hair. Adding the tiniest bit of pressure to the back of your head to get you to take all of him but he groans when you pull back a little, teasing him with a lick over his tip.

Tasting his precum on your tongue before you open your throat to swallow his dick.

“O-Oh f*ck, baby, u-uhh”

He can feel his climax building…building…and building and his breath hitches as your small hands go to massage his balls.

Reaching his other hand down to join in with his first. Elvis thrusts his hips up into your pretty mouth wanting every little bit of his cock in your throat but then you pull away, his dick slipping out from your soft lips. “N-No, baby…why did ya do that? Daddy felt so good- bring that pretty little mouth back.”

You smirk, shaking your head. Clicking your tongue when he grabs your arm, looking up at you with a hint of desperation.

“Daddy’s gotta remember that I’m in control.”

[stvolanis]

Broken Heartstrings

(one shot)

warnings : dom & sub dynamics, Elvis is kinda abusive, age gap, INACCURATE TIME LINE, angst, Elvis is suspected of cheating,pet-names (baby, doll, darlin’, satin), a hint jealousy (Elvis and OC), manipulation, toxic relationship, OC is naive and kinda (not really) innocent, smut includes degradation (slut, brat), praising, dubcon-ish I guess, spitting, p in v sex, oral (f receiving),size kink, slapping (not hard enough to hurt), man handling, overstimulation, spitting, house wife kink (if you squint), stomach bulge, make-up sex, and overall rough sex. Sorry if I missed anything <3

this is my first story I’ve written for Tumblr, so it won’t be the greatest and might be poorly written to some, but I had fun writing it so enjoy to those who are interested :)

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

the days grew longer as the nights seemed to be getting unbearably shorter. Lucy was sitting on a tall bar stool swinging her little frilly sock covered feet back n’ forth as she waited for her husband to get to their shared home. It was late, ‘round 12:30 and he hadn’t shown up to the dinner she had graciously prepared for the both of them. The food was getting cold and her appetite was fading, being replaced by a feeling in the pit of her stomach she couldn’t seem to pin.

The couple had their ups and downs, as any other, but lately it seemed to be more downs. he’d come home late, his hair and clothes disheveled. sometimes he’d smell like cheap women’s perfume and other times he’d smell like gin and whiskey. he’d come home with an attitude, and take it out on Lucy since she was the closest one around. She knew he was struggling, but Elvis Presley was not one for opening up and receiving help.

the drinking and coming home late started happening after his mother passed away. he didn’t know how else to cope, so he did what he’d see his father do. he’d been chasing a high he’d never be able to reach, but his determined mind wouldn’t falter. one more drink. one more show. one more hit of whatever he was on in the moment or could get his hands on. anything to help relive the aching in his chest. It was like a poison that spread through his body, draining his energy and overtaking him. but he kept on falling deeper and deeper

but there was her. Lucy. the sweet little 20 year old who kissed his worries and pains away. Lucy, who made him feel like a young school boy all over again. Lucy , who batted her pretty eyelashes up at him when she needed some loving. Lucy, who’d perch herself on his lap and whisper sweet nothings into his ear when he was exhausted from shows, telling him everything he already knew, but it was coming from her, so he’d hear it a million more times if he could. Lucy, who was so sickeningly sweet and naive, she didn’t realize that not everyone wanted wanted to be just her friend.

Elvis didn’t like that.

Elvis knew he scored with Lucy. He knew that she was the purest thing he’d ever be able to obtain in his lousy life. the freshest, kindest and most beautiful little daisy in a field of weeds. Sure, people were throwing themselves at him left and right, but they weren’t real. Girls always on his arm, yet they only cared for his charm, fame and money. Only cared about fucking their way to the top just to be a nice trophy wife on the arm of some rich piece of shit. Running them dry. But Lucy was never like that.

Lucy was from a small town. A southern bell, and a hard worker who took care of her sick mother for as long as she could remember. She always seen the good in people, even when it seemed invisible to others. Her hearts too big for her delicate body, or at least that’s what her momma used to tell her. Lucy worked at a busy diner on the outskirts of her town, and traveling people were always in and out. So it was no surprise to her when Elvis Presley had shown up in a white button down, dark jeans and polished dress shoes with his friends following behind him.

Ever since that day, Elvis made it his mission to be with her. attached at the hip since they laid eyes on each other, and neither of them would have it any other way. But once her husband started touring again, their honeymoon phase was soon ending and arose more arguments, aggression and finger-pointing.

Elvis had promised to have a nice, civilized dinner with his wife as long as she cooked the food and not one of the maids. For hours, Lucy had been feeling waves of excitement as she cooked all day, creating a nice big meal for them to enjoy together for once. It had been so long since they sat down for dinner together. But alas, he was no where to be found.

She looked down at her hands that were between her thighs as she felt her eyes begin to water and her breathing uneven. of course he wouldn’t have come. what was she thinking? as tears began to fall, it seemed as though they wouldn’t stop. The girl wept as she began to throw away the food she had worked so hard to make.

Soon, that sadness and disappointment turned into a bubbling anger in her core. How could he do this to her? Why did she always have to be the one waiting around? She hated feeling reliant on him for the smallest things. Time, attention, love. Things no one else had ever cared to give her, but Elvis had so happily. She hated that they always fell into this routine of cat and mouse. And always, just when she’s about to call it quits, he smooth talks his way back into her arms.

Mumbling words of affirmation to her. How much he loves and cares for her, and how no one else will ever love her as much as he does. How she’s such a good housewife for him, always keeping the house together and waiting for his return like a good girl. How beautiful she is, and the things he loves most about her.

as the anger bubbled in her stomach, she could hear the booming laugh of Elvis through the halls as he cracked jokes with his choice of friends for the nights and all Lucy could feel was disgust. how could she have been so dumb?

In that moment, Lucy decided she’d had enough. She slammed the door open to the kitchen and marched her way through the long halls till she got to the entrance of the house where Elvis stood in all his glory. Oh, how pretty he looked. His smile becoming bigger as he laid eyes on his wife who wore a white, off the shoulder sundress and frilly white socks. she seemed so small and frail compared to him.

But his smile soon faded as he took notice of her puffy red eyes, red nose and trembling lips and worry consumed him. “Woah, darlin’, what’s goin on?” He asked as he took off his coat and laid it on a small round table. Lucy scoffed. “Are you fuckin’ serious, Elvis?” She said dryly as she squinted her eyes.

Elvis clenched his jaw, clearly displeased. “Watch ya mouth when ya talk to me, ya hear?” He said sternly as he pointed a finger at her. Lucy rolled her pretty green eyes. “Where were you? Huh? You were out with women, weren’t you? I can smell them on you Elvis!” She shouted as fresh tears fell from her eyes.

He groaned as he lazily dragged a hand down his perfectly sculpted face. “What the hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout, Lucy? I ain’t been with no women other than you!” He shouted back as he flared his arms out with a dry laugh. “I’m done with your lies, Elvis.” She said as she harshly wiped her tears and turned to leave.

Elvis made quick work of grabbing her arm and spinning her back around, harshly pushing her against the wall as his hand snaked up and snugly wrapped around her neck. Lucy was taken aback, Elvis had never put his hands on her in a way she didn’t like before.

“Dammit, woman, what’s it gonna take for you to calm down and stop accusin’ me of bullshit every damn day?!” He yelled out in her face. Lucy’s body wracked with sobs, and only then did Elvis realize what he’d done. He shakily removed his hands, but didn’t move away from her and instead caged her body in with his slender arms.

Lucy pushed harshly against his chest, trying to create some distance between them but Elvis wasn’t having it as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. “Let me go, Elvis!” She said, her voice hoarse and broken. “Need ya to calm down first, baby.” He replied as he watched her body tremble

“Oh I need to calm down? How fucking funny coming from the man who just choked me out!” She laughed out dryly as she shot him a look of disgust and anger. “I’ve fuckin’ had it with this attitude you got. After everything I do for you, this is how you wanna act?! Huh?!” He yelled as he began dragging her up the stairs to their shared bedroom.

“Stop it Elvis, you’re hurting me!” Lucy weakly yelled as his grip tightened around her wrists, surely to leave marks the next morning. Elvis played deaf as he harshly threw her onto their bed, slamming the door shut and swiftly locking it. Lucy’s body bounced as she made contact with the bed before sitting up, ready to speak again till Elvis cut her off.

“Strip.” Was all Elvis said. His voice thick, deep and velvety. Such a sweet sound. If only the words coming out weren’t laced with disappointment and dissatisfaction towards the helpless girl on the bed. Her eyes widened and her words got caught in her throat. Again. Why does this always happen? right when she’s about to stand up for herself, she always backs down the very last second and the cycle continues and worsens each time. But it’s addicting.

Sickeningly enough, she thrives in it. She’s become so accustomed to it, she wouldn’t remember how to live like a normal couple again. The toxicity of their relationship kept her on her toes, and deep down inside, she knew she wouldn’t want it any other way. How boring it would be. She knew Elvis wasn’t with other Women, because if he was it would be the cover of every times magazine and she wouldn’t hear the end of it from her friends and family. She knew the perfume she smelled on him was his mommas favorite.

As her shakey hands met the fabric of her white dress and began pulling it off of her body, Elvis rolled up his sleeves and drunk in the sight in front of him. almond green eyes, plump lips and a cute button nose that’s still slightly reddened from her crying. long chocolate brown hair. Full breasts with perky, sensitive nipples that sat ever so perfectly. slim hips and meaty thighs with a round ass to top it all off. But god, how he adored how small she is compared to him.

How tiny she is, is one of his favorite parts about her, and oh, how he used it to his advantage in the most vile ways. it was so easy for someone as big as him to completely destroy her. and that’s exactly what he does.

“Please,Elvis, m’ sor-” she tried, but Elvis wasn’t having it. “I don’t wanna hear a fuckin’ thing from ya, baby.” He said roughly as he gripped her hair at the base and craned her neck up to look at him. her hands gripped his shirt and she felt her slick between her thighs at his tone.

Elvis brought his hand up to her mouth and Lucy stuck her tongue out, welcoming her husbands fingers that harshly hit the back of her throat, making her gag and eyes water. Elvis clicked his tongue. “How can ya take my cock when ya can’t even take my fingers, darlin’?” He chuckled out.

Her mouth closed around his fingers and she began to suck them seductively and Elvis felt his pants tighten at the sight. Pretty eyes staring back up with him, trying to prove she can.

Always a hard worker, huh?

Elvis smirked at the thought as he removed his fingers and instead harshly pushed her upper body down onto the bed, spreading her legs as he dropped to his knees. his mouth watered at the sight. Her cunt was puffy and pink, bud swollen with need and begging for attention. Her slick was seeping out, and there was a wet patch on the sheets of the bed where she had been sitting that was dark and visible. It was such a pretty sight for a starving man.

He spread her lower lips and dragged his tongue between the welt folds, gathering all of her essence. He hummed at the taste of her on his tongue before savoring it for a moment. Then, he sucked her clit into his mouth with such force, her back painfully arched. His tongue skillfully played with her overly-sensitive bud, teasing and sucking as her thighs closed in around his head.

Elvis was pussy drunk. He couldn’t seem to get enough of the taste of his sweet girl. He didn’t care if he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t care about anything besides making Lucy come as many times as she could on his tongue. He prodded a finger at her sopping entrance before slowly sinking them in, letting them sit before pulling out and harshly slamming back in. Lucy let out a gasp at the intrusion as he began to finger fuck her tight cunt with no remorse.

The small girl felt the coil in her stomach tighten as her fingers gripped his mop of disheveled hair as she pushed her cunt further into the dazed mans face. Elvis curled his fingers in her before sucking her clit harshly one last time, and that’s when it snapped. “Oh my god—Elvis!” She moaned out as she tried to shove his head away from her overstimulated clit, but Elvis wasn’t listening.

“Sucha good girl, satin.” He mumbled against her clit as he felt her juices drip down his chin. God, how sweet she tasted. His entire chin and chest were covered in her, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d fuck up a million more times if it meant he could come back home to this.

Lucy panted, out of breath underneath him as he crawled above her sweaty body. He laid the gentlest kisses upon her skin, so tender and sweet. The flutter of his lips against her stomach had her insecurities seeping away into the cracks of the floor boards. The suckle of her nipples, and the releasing ‘pop’, followed by the countless hickies laid where they both knew only he would be able to see had her blushing madly. The caressing of her neck and the soft kiss against her lips made her forget the reason this all started to begin with.

“Ya with me, baby?” He asked. “Yes, Elvis. ‘M here.” She softly replied. Elvis took that as his sign to tighten his hold around Lucy’s neck, lifting her slightly to better look her in the eye. “Good, ‘cause I’m gon’ show ya what happens to ungrateful brats when I’m done with ya.” He said harshly as he slapped the side of her cheek with his free hand, but not hard enough to actually hurt. Just hard enough to know he was gonna fuck her into oblivion.

He spread Lucy’s legs, slapping her puffy, over-sensitive cunt. She softly moaned at the impact, making Elvis chuckle. “Fuckin’ slut.” He muttered as he lined his throbbing cock to her entrance. Elvis inhaled deeply as he slowly pushed his tip in, teasingly pulling it in and out a few times. Lucy whined. “Elvis-” she began. “Shut up, ya take what I give ya, brat.” He said sternly as he gripped her hair. Lucy nodded I obediently as she whimpered out a small ‘sorry’.

Suddenly, the larger man bullied his way inside her wet cunt and she could feel his hair against her throbbing clit. She moaned out as her hand grabbed the arm Elvis was holding her leg up with to ready herself. Elvis spared no mercy as he ruthlessly began bucking his hips into hers, not waiting for her to adjust to his size. She felt like heaven to him, after all, he’d trained her pussy to perfectly fit his cock since the night of their wedding, but after so long of going without being inside of her, she’d tightened up again. Elvis hissed as her walls squeezed him before throwing his head back and letting out a deep groan.

Lucy gripped the sheets below her, desperately trying to hold onto something as the beast on top of her used her cunt like she was a rag-doll solely for his pleasure. “Tight fuckin’ cunt, all for me, mama. Takin’ my dick so well, just like I taught ya, baby.” He said between breaths. Her chest fluttered at his praise, and her cunt squeezed tighter around him. “Ya like that, hm? Like when I tell ya how good you are to me. How nice you fit around my cock. My good girl.” He muttered against your lips as his hands squeezed her hips with such force, they’d be sure to leave a mark.

“Yes, Yes, fuck—yes Elvis. ‘M your good girl. All yours.” Lucy replied through loud moans, her breasts bouncing with ever rough thrust he planted. Something snapped in Elvis at that, and he threw her legs over his shoulder, hitting a new angle. Just the right spot to make her vision blurry and seeing stars. Her back arched as his fingers found her clit, rolling it between his fingers before rubbing it just the right way that made that familiar coil tighten again.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum, Elvis! p-please mm- lemme cu-cum!” She stuttered out through moans. Elvis reveled in her satisfying sounds, every thrust sent him into orbit as he became pussy drunk, completely consumed in her. He could feel her everywhere. Her soft hands all over him. Her cunt squeezing the life out of him as she was on the brink of an orgasm. the pleas of her crying aloud. Her eyes watering as she stared up at him, overstimulated.

“Hold it, ‘m almost there, baby. Doin’ so good f’me.” Elvis replied as his hips shot further into hers. The sound of their sweaty skin echoed through the room, and surely could be heard through the halls. Elvis took notice of the prominent bulge on her stomach, groaning at the sight of him filling her to the brim. He pressed his hand against it. “Feel that? ‘M right here, doll.” He said, his voice laced with desire. Lucy merely whimpered, still trying to hold back on her orgasm.

The sudden pressure on her lower stomach made her eyes roll to the back of her head as she felt the coil once again snap, releasing all her juices on Elvis’ lower stomach for a second time. But Elvis wasn’t done yet as he kept his pace of pounding into her. “Please, I can’t-” she moaned out, Elvis slapped her cheek. “I told ya to fuckin’ wait, but you just hadda be a slut, huh? you’re done when I say ya are.” He hissed. Lucy moaned at the contact of his hand against her cheek before nodding her head vigorously.

Elvis felt his stomach grow tighter as he was closer and closer to finishing. “‘M almost there, j-just ho-hold on f’me, mama.” He stuttered out through the waves of euphoric feelings. All of his senses were overwhelmed and his body felt hot to the touch like it was on fire as sweat dripped down him. He slammed his cock into Lucys overstimulated cunt a few more times sloppily before his hips stilled inside of her.

Elvis soon pulled out and watched as cum dripped out of her sopping, pulsing hole before taking two of his slender fingers and stuffing it back in. “Don’t want it to go to waste, now do we?” He said with a smirk as Lucy’s body wracked with spasms as his fingers penetrated her. Lucy’s hand reached out and stilled his movements with a small whimper. “No more Elvis, ‘s too much.” She whined.

Elvis sighed. “Alright, satin, let’s get you cleaned up.” He said as he got up and went into their shared bedroom to retrieve a wet cloth before coming back and gently wiping off both of their juices from her sore cunt. Lucy sighed contently as Elvis pressed a few lingering kisses on her thighs and stomach. “You did so good.” Elvis said against her lips before softly kissing her.

“Want you to hold me, please, Elvis.” She muttered back with a cheeky smile. Elvis let out a small laugh, eyes gleaming with something she couldn’t quite decipher. “Whatever you want, Lucy.” He replied as he laid in bed next to her, bringing her closer and wrapping his arms around the smaller girl. She drew small patterns on his naked chest and smiled contently when she felt his hands begin to massage her scalp.

“Yknow I love ya, right?” Elvis said as he glanced down at her in his arms.

“I know, Elvis. I love you too.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

[aconflagrationofmyown]

K-Rations: make me know it, go ahead and show it

a Sarge and lil Mama fic, the long anticipated sequel to D-Rations

The sequel to D-Rations: or the one where Elaine realizes she’s in love with her husband and takes measures to make certain no such silliness as the miscommunication in the last chapter will ever come between them again

Warnings: 18+ smut, free use, adoring objectification of a husband??, overstimulation, lactation kink, slight sub space (male), angry makeup sex, cum feeding, communication issues and LOVE

Coauthored with the inimitable @prompted-wordsmith who’s initial prompt for this months ago launched a thousand ships 💋

Elvis had a very clear memory of being fifteen years old and dragging his heels every inch of the mile and a quarter from school to home one overcast day. Scuffing and meandering his way back to his family’s apartment in the Courts and dawdling on the steps outside, flirtin’ with the girls and begging his cousin Gene to get him a glass of water from inside.

“Get it yourself.” Gene had grumbled, till he caught sight of the shiner underscoring the swelling below one of Elvis’ blazing azure eyes.

Gene was a good fella and got that glass of water for him and brought it to him from the Smithe’s upstairs apartment and thusly Elvis had bought about forty five minutes of extra time before Gladys came out and caught sight of the damage done to her son’s face.

It was hard, Elvis thought then, balancing his understanding of his mama’s dread of any harm coming to him with the very dire need to exert himself or else get run over entirely in the harsh crucible of high school.

He’d been punched, and so he punched right back. And tomorrow would be better for it, ugly bruise marring his face, nonetheless. It was the sort of taking care of business womenfolk just couldn’t quite grasp, and he had felt some fiery exasperation that any reasoning was owed them at all for how a man conducted himself outside the female domain. It wasn’t them getting punched, was it? So why should they object if he punched and got punched? Just a fella taking care of business, best he knew how.

Elvis chafed under the nagging familiarity that trudging home to Elaine this fine European evening brought to mind. He thought of trudging home to mama. No shiner this time, just an arm still warm from being hung on by other women and half-baked good intentions he had no idea how to make her understand.

The cobblestone blocks home from the corner diner had never seemed so short and the crowd of fans to impede him so thin. He oughta be rushing home and assuring Elaine that he missed her and that he was just bein’ gentlemanly and givin’ her a lil breather after all the use he put her to since she got over here. But none of that explained the reason she fled as soon as she caught sight of him—or so Rex had told him. Told him she bolted right away. Elvis had never seen Elaine bolt, and just last week he’d seen her hold her ground like never before with those two harlots, Susan and Doris.

It gave Elvis a horrid, queer sorta feeling it had to do with the waitresses that he’d gotten a lil friendly with. Elaine had never minded before but now felt different and like he was in the wrong somehow. He just didn’t know how and before long he’d be at the front gates and he oughta be delighted he was almost home after such a long day. It’s all he wanted, to go home and be with his little family.

Really, he swore it was, so much so he was heartsick with it. And yet he dawdled like a naughty child outside the perimeter of his own fence, half expecting Elaine to embody Mama, to come out from their Bavarian style home wielding a broom handle and switch his backside for bad behavior, crowd of fans be damned.

He really got a little sick at the way his pulse thumped at that thought and his blood ran south in hardening interest. Wasn’t that the reason for this whole little snafu? The fact he couldn’t think of Elaine in any capacity without wanting her and taking her and wanting and taking and over and over again it went.

Bruised petals and dusty window sills.

What if she’s done with me?—he thought suddenly in a panic—what if she’s done and I blew my last chance to make her love me? They’d gotten into such a nice little patch of domesticity since she’d been here, withdrawals and torrid sex and diaper laden trash cans not withstanding… or maybe that was all crucial to it. He’d felt at home and he felt like she had begun to really feel that way with him and just last week he’d finally heard her lay claim to him. It made him want to dance around like a child and wring his cock out like a teenager. He’d done the latter, then fled from her for days, afraid of how much he was feeling, afraid to ask if she was finally feeling it too.

He’d started leaving a bit early, mumbled excuses of “Don’wanna be late, Laney baby, y’know how rowdy them German girls can get outside,'' hopping into the car quickly so she might not notice how he’d gotten a little wide-eyed and weepy down below at watching her in her apron and heels swish around the kitchen. Elvis had taken up invitations to dinner he’d normally scoff at with the boys, he’d started doing more PT to “get back in shape, gotta make sure I’m right fit to run after the new babes, reckon they’re gonna be trouble wit’ a capital T, Tink,” to explain away the bags under his eyes. Didn’t matter that none of their babies were running much of anywhere. Elvis was certain she didn’t deserve the truth, the truth that he was wringing himself dry in the empty showers on base after sweating and huffing out all the energy he couldn’t put to use on her. That was just it, wasn’t it: he had used her, for his own selfish problems he’d gotten into himself, and now he had to rectify that.

Only now, now he was sure that had been the worst thing he could’ve done. That there was yet another mistake somewhere in there he needed to fix. He imagined her coming and and whooping him, but as the door remained shut and the fans dispersed his stomach felt like lead as he imagined her giving him a haughty silent treatment, one he’d never experienced from her but imagined she’d be damned good at from the way she handled their daddies’ bickering. He wouldn’t be able to handle her mask of politeness towards him, all the while she was probably packing a bag and deciding she was finished with him. And oh, God above!

The very notion of that scenario set him ablaze with ferocity and actually quickened his steps as if he was jogging headlong into the house to dissuade his wife from up and leaving him after their first arguem—no. They hadn’t even had an argument or anything, he realized numbly. They actually hadn’t been talking much. Not this last week. Not with all his early mornings and extra time on base and piddling around town—

He wrenched his key into the lock, already angry at her for something she hadn’t done (it was easier than being angry at himself and more commanding than turning into a blubbering idiot begging her to stay) and threw open the door of his house, ready to have it out. Put her over his knee, remind her she could never take his babies away from him, threaten her with the law. Maybe manage to say he was sorry somewhere in there, too.

Fried chicken. That’s what struck him first, the smell of genuine lard baptized breading wrapped around tender white meat. His knees knocked together at the sentimental potency of it. Every surface in sight was damn near sparkling, and he almost felt guilty for putting his shoes on the doormat.

Silence. That hit next. No babble of babies or the radio, no laughter from Dodger and Elaine gossiping to the staccato chop chop chop of something fresh they were gonna force him to eat. Quiet, except for the click of the stove element coming on and off. It was a clear shot from the front door through to the sitting area and onto the long kitchen and dining room that ran along the back of the house, he could see the whole empty space of it and yet through that panic inducing emptiness he noticed the steam rising from one of the pans. She’d never be so foolish as to leave the stove on while leaving the house. Not unless she was madder than he anticipated and wanted to burn their home down.

He shook his shoulders out at the admiring terror that zapped through him with that thought and gingerly undid his uniform coat. Pegs, his little wife had pegs by the door and there, hung in a row, was the mink coat he’d bought her from a magazine while separated, then there was Jesse’s little coat and Ella’s white one with the pink trim. He turned towards them and hung up his military jacket beside her mink. Mommy and daddy and baby and baby number two’s, all in a row.

There’d be two more before next Christmas, god help them.

Elaine’s voice ringing bright and clear right behind him and just at his ear level, spooked him terribly bad outta his domestic reverie,

“Oh excellent,” she drawled as she observed with cool detachment as he clutched the back of his head that had knocked against a peg in his flail, “Perfect timing, dinner’ll be ready in about an hour or so,”

She informed him of this cheerily. As if he hadn’t been coming home too late for dinner or ought else this past week and hope flared in his heart till she reached out and gripped his army green tie, untucking it from between the buttons, and Elvis would deny the little shudder that went through him at the way the fabric slid past his chest. He didn’t have much time to think on it, anyway, as Elaine started to haul him bodily forward towards the sitting area, using all the strength she had amassed by carrying their children and their carriers and their luggage and their hampers about, using it all against him. “In the meantime,” she went on and he found himself tripping over his boots to keep up and watching the curls at the back of her head bounce, “I find myself in need of my husband’s services.”

Services? His brain doesn't reckon much more than the wonderful happening of being hauled around by his tie like a hound on a leash and the smell of that southern cookin’ in the kitchen. There’s a chaise lounge under the front window in the sitting area to the right of the door and it looks like she’s towing him there and while his brain tries to reconcile her kind tone with her rough hands, his cock certainly picks up on the subtext undergirding the notion of services. He’s afraid he hears himself whine at the tug on his neck and when she throttles him and spins him and drags him to sit down on the chaise his mind has gone fuzzy, he’s so utterly knocked off his moorings. Knocked off his feet, too, in a turn of events—only it’s not a turn, is it, really? When he’d first begged to make her his wife he’d gotten on his knees then, too, and suddenly that whole scene is put into a more lecherous context that only makes his head spin more, makes him slump, limp-limbed, onto the cushions. Services.

“Dinner smells great, Laney,” he began to defend himself, pacify her or just blurt out any ole thing that’ll get him off the hook, out of the cloud in his head. But she gripped his face instead, fingers digging into his cheeks and with a rush of relief he understood that this face looking down on him wasn’t the face of a woman done with him—she was furious, rather.

Furious meant she cared. Furious resembled mama. Mama had cared so damn much, no one had come close until this blazing eyed goddess slapped his face and shook him by his jaw while seething,

“You’re my goddamn husband, Elvis!” shake shake shake, his head knocked back with the vehemence of her passion, cover falling to the cushions and then the floor as he was forced to lay back into his seat with her vehemence, cheek smarting. His heart was soothed by it even as his hair fell into his eyes and his jaw ached, “You aren’t some hunk of meat that other gals get to paw at and lay claim to while you leave me without so much as a word in the mornings or a prayer at night! You hear me?”

She still hadn’t let go of his tie with her other hand. It was strangling him most pleasantly, starched collar chafing, and his voice was wrecked when he tried to agree, “Yes, yes’m I-I-I know…” through the squish of his forcefully pouted lips. He knew and he was aware now where he had gone wrong, though he wondered at her missing him at all, wasn’t everyone eager to get a breather from his presence?

“Haven't I been accommodatin’?” she begged instead and sounded so very hurt even as she drew him out of his pressed slacks with a stern hand, slacks she’d ironed patiently the night before—hard as rock and gushing appreciatively already. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, fumbling for some sort of grip on the edge of the chaise. It seemed almost blasphemous to touch her right now. She’s all a mix of vulnerable and ruthless this evening and his heart pounds in his ears at the sight of this side of her again, a righteous goddess. Unleashed on him, this time. Just as he’d fantasized about a week ago while helping himself with his own fist.

“Yes yes always, baby, always so damn selfless, I had to get away. Had to pace myself.” he swore in a rush, suddenly needing her to understand the devotion welling up in his chest as she paused for the briefest moment in shuffling her crinoline aside.

He watched as Elaine’s eyebrow quirked in comprehension, the angry set of her mouth gentling before her body sprang back into action and she dropped down on him with groan-inducing entitlement. He wheezed, realizing there was no cotton chafing at little Elvis—Elaine wasn’t wearing panties.

“That’s why you're bein’ so cold?” she beat on his chest as she began to rock on him and all too late he really believed that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “You got time for buddies and waitresses but you won’t so much as touch me these last few days. Why? Why?” Her pretty face was twisted into a snarl.

The grip on his tie got mortally tight with each demand as did her pussy around him and he found he was going very fuzzy and he’d like to explain, tried to through a series of whimpers comprising her name and apologies of various coherence. She began to ride him with all the ferocity of a woman, a wife scorned, her own eyes boring into his. It’s all too much, too quick, the furniture creaking below them as he thrusts his hips up into her, meeting her every swivel and grind. Home, he’s home, and his body melts at that comfort, he was already leaking, can hear the squelching as he’s fucked on this proper chaise, her skirts still pressed and curls perfectly pinned, her chest constrained in her bodice. There’s nothing visual for him to latch onto, aside from that fiery stare. It’s as if he’s just there for her, and a whine escapes him as he realizes he’s being used. A whimpering apology of, “‘M sorry baby, ‘m sorry Laney!” falling from his lips, still held captive in her hands.

“Sorry?” Elaine hisses, all flashing teeth and taunting sneer, “I don’t want you just sorry, I want what’s mine, I want you to want me again! I don’t reckon you’re sorry enough, not with the way you seem too distracted by passing floozies in waitress uniforms to come home to us.”

“I am home!” And his own verbal dam breaks since that first time he saw that side of her, right on this very chaise, “Jesus, lil mama, only you get me, only you—’m yours, darlin’, I love you, love ya, won’t let them get handsy no more—Satnin’, my Satnin!”

And that last endearment is what gives Elaine pause, makes her realize that Elvis… her husband…really does love her. This is the first time he’s used that sacred name for anyone else since Lovie—Miss Gladys—died, God rest her soul. She’s in a league of her own in his mind, up there with the angels and the heavenly host. Now Elaine’s numbered among them. She can’t help the clench of her little house, the gasp she lets out, squeezing at Elvis’, her husband’s, her husband who loves her’s, key. She attacks him with little kisses, all over his dreamy, pretty, infuriating face. She leaves little smudges of her lipstick that make something in her chest, that had been wound tight over this whole neglectful business, unwind ever so slightly.

Elvis gasps out as she flutters over his face, dotting him with her adoration and he—he jus’—he can’t hold it in no more. His relief started in the eyes and sizzled down his spine, he started to cum, head tilting back, tears languishing his lash line as he was wrung dry by her yittle cunt.

“No more, no more, I swear!” he promised good behavior and begged for a reprieve from the bouncing clench of her all at once. He reached out with grabby hands, trying to maybe pull her off, pull her up his chest so he might use his mouth—but he was unceremoniously slapped away. She didn’t stop her bouncing, caring not a whit as he whimpered and gasped and twisted his hands into the poor chaise cushions, the same cushions he’d seen her be just as mean to those nasty women on.

“No,” Elaine said, staring down at him with stern good humor as if he was a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “No, Naughty, you’re gonna sit there all nice and pretty, my own pretty soldier boy, for me, baby. And you’re gonna let me use you, this time.”

Oh, oh Lordy she was a vision as she clenched around his soft cock, lil hole hungry as she worked those thighs he knew were under her dress. Only he couldn’t see, and that extra layer of, of decency when he was being so thoroughly disregarded as anything other than a part of the furniture made something in him drift away. He felt hazy all over, breaths shallow little pants through his mouth, tiny whimpers the only thing he could manage through the tie, the hand on his face, and the feeling of—

“‘M sorry, s’sor-ry, ah! ‘M yours, ‘m yours!” As he felt himself starting to chub up within her. It was agonizing, made him writhe, turn his head away and sob because she wasn’t stopping.

“We share everythin’, Elvis!” she insisted, some portion of this hurt forming in her conciseness, punctuated by her loneliness and isolation, the amount of friendship and companionship she had given up for him.

A faint sheen of sweat painted Elaine’s temples as she did all the work, using the hand on his face to plant on his shoulder for leverage, just as he taught her that first night. Just thinking about it, thinking of how she’d babbled praises at him then—he became fully hard again soon enough, body betraying him, responding to the wet softness surrounding his cock. Even that least clever part of him knew when he was home. He was jerked like a stallion by his reins to look at her again, look at how she’d used the other hand, now, to bury under her dress and play with her lil button. She clenched like a fury around him, staring right into Elvis’ eyes as she ground down, hard, and came herself all over his dress pants and cock, squeezing him raw.

He couldn’t help the extra babble of, “p’ease, mama, p’ease, n’more!”

“You sit there like a good boy, E, you sit there and be good,” Elaine was panting to him, only he was sure that he couldn’t, he wasn’t good, was he? Not after the way she’d slapped him, didn’t deserve her soft praise, he had been bad, so bad—

“‘M not good! S’s-sorry, ‘m not…!” He bucked his hips up into her, wiggling, trying to get her off of him, only Elaine was an experienced rider and remained unphased by his squirming. She was used to wiggly little boys, Jesse being much the same as his father.

“You can be a good boy, baby, you can,” and she was being so mean, so mean, even as she pet at his cheek and neck, smearing slick onto his pulse, using one curled finger to tip his head back and admire the long line of his shining throat and cooed at him. “You jus’ gotta take it, baby.”

“No! No-no-n-no!” Elvis whined, trying again to arrest her movement, stop her working thighs as he felt himself teeter close to that edge again, the sloppy slick-slap as she resumed her pace and slammed down onto his hips, circling her own, driving him into full on crying. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the repetitive swallows as he tried to stop himself from drooling. Tears glittered on his cheeks but all Elaine did was kiss them away, kiss at his slack mouth as he wailed.

“You can yowl like a feral tomcat all ya want, Naughty, you’re not goin’ nowhere,” Elaine panted, picking up her pace again, using one hand to wrench into his hair, sweat-damp and mussed. Elvis came again just as she ground against him harshly, the pain in his scalp triggering his pleasure.

He lost a little time, coming to only to sniffle as he was fed her fingers, sticky with her cum, with his cum that had leaked out around where they were joined, the sharp-salty tang, still trapped under her in the best and worst way.

“You’re mine, Elvis,” Elaine stated then, sitting primly still on his lap, “Before God almighty above, you’re mine first and foremost.”

He nodded, cried out, “Yes, yes’m, yes m-mama, thank you,” like he was taught, the polite little gentleman, grateful for the respite even if she was still keeping him inside her. He could feel the wet stickiness on his trousers, getting a little uncomfortable but not daring to squirm, lest her mercy not last. “I don’t want any more of this abstinence nonsense. I don’t want you running off with some German trollops while you neglect your wife, ya hearin’ me, husband?” Elaine decreed.

“‘M sorry,” Elvis breathed out, reaching for her waist again cautiously. She allowed his hands to settle on her tummy, to palm the growing bump there. She pulled him up by the tie, cradling his head to her bosom, and he nosed at her pretty tits within her dress subconsciously. He—he didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted, not when he felt so small. Was it allowed? Did he do good enough?

“You want somethin’, daddy?” Elaine hummed, and he shuddered at the gentle tone and the scritch of her perfectly manicured nails through his hair and down the back of his neck. They dipped beneath his shirt collar, teased at the knob of his spine.

“I don’—don’ deserve it,” he confessed, coming out of his hiding spot under her chin to look up at her through his lashes, tear-spiked and trembling. “I’ve—been bad.”

“Shh,” Elaine simpered, unbuttoning her house dress and letting the front placard fall, her breasts already leaking from her exertions as she then drew him in, one hand on the back of his head and the other still ever-present on his tie. “You’ve been good to me now, haven’t you, Elvie-baby? We understandin’ each other thorough, now?” She tilted his chin up, tone becoming uncompromising at the last question. He was quick to nod, panting again, sticky trousers forgotten in the face of lip-licking longing.

“I need your words, honey,” Elaine called, drawing his attention back to her pretty face.

“Yes’m, mama, been good, I’ll—I’ll be s’good, for you,” Elvis said, chin quivering, looking bout ready to burst back into tears, face smeared with Elaine’s lipstick and the subtle shine of salt—the evidence of this long-winded kiss and make up.

“Perfect, perfect man.” Elaine murmured, pulling him back, and Elvis immediately latched on, moaning into her nipple as milk gushed into his mouth, dribbled down his chin, getting caught on his tight shirt collar. His lashes tickled her, a little “Hoo—ah!” from the voracious suction of his mouth, so much stronger than her babies’.

“There you go, there’s my pretty husband. My husband, my messy boy,” she crooned into his hair, biting her lip as she clenched around his still-soft member within her. She was sore, hadn’t taken her husband in days because of his own self-sacrificing tendencies, as she understood it, and was revelling now in the openness, the squelch of his seed spilling out of her. She pulled at Elvis’ hair, guiding him to the other nipple, him seemingly not noticing her start to rock gently on him yet again, feeling the slow-building heat come back to her belly. It was nice, this soft, squishy thing inside her—a chastened lil Elvis that soothed the ache while bringing her closer to the edge.

“Shh, baby,” she panted, starting to rock in earnest as she felt him come to life under her, jerking up, wringing at the pooling fabric of her skirt around her hips. He mewled against her breast, no longer really suckling, just open-mouthed smears of what might be kisses as he was so cruelly put to service yet again. Only this time it was better, because the milk smearing his face was hers, the shade of red she wore smudged down his cheekbones, paving the way for the two new twin tracks of tears as she started bouncing in earnest. He made only small little sounds, nuzzling into her like a kitten, bucking up as if he couldn’t help the movement despite the way it made his pretty face twist into pleasure-pain agony.

“One more,” Elaine decided, allowing herself to be greedy as she looked at the clock on the mantlepiece, “You give me one more now, my good boy, my husband, you give me one more spurt from that pretty cock and then I’ll feed ya, feed you up with a good m-meal, hmm? How does that s—ah!—sound?”

“Ma…ma,” was the only response she got, slurred from plump, shiny red lips, like the sweet cherries she might find in the summertime back in Memphis. His head lolled back, the only thing keeping him semi-upright the ironclad grip she had on his tie still. Couldn’t stop herself from kissing him, then, licking into his mouth and tasting her own milk. It was a heady feeling, made her thrust down harder, wanting to leave bruises on his pelvis like he did with her hips. It made all her worries disappear, seeing Elvis like this, so relaxed and accommodating, letting her use him up until he was dry and weeping, looking for all the world like a little boy—her little boy.

“Downright angelic,” Elaine gasped, admiring the cut of his cheekbones, the deepening of his flush, if that was possible, as he arched his back and met her downward bounce with a buck up. Wiggly as always. She unbuttoned the bottom of his own shirt, rucking up his undershirt, too, until she could see his own nipples—and she pinched them like he did hers, which made him let loose a whimpering cry and finally jerk hard enough to get her to release his tie for fear of truly choking him. He pulsed within her, hands clenching in a grip round her swollen waist as he gracelessly shoved up into her, once, twice, and she tipped over the edge from his vigor and the picture he made—

His jaw sharp as glass, smeared with her own slick and the white of his cum from when she’d fed him their combined releases, along with the milky cream of her breastmilk. Her lipstick prints nigh on disappeared into the decadently red blush that painted him all the way down to his heaving belly, interrupted by the scrunch of his undershirt at his collarbones and the still-buttoned dress shirt collar, the tie that was so useful flipped up and over his shoulder. His chest, his pecs so nicely defined, topped by frankly temptingly perked nipples. Those pretty blue eyes were neon-bright against the contrast of his flushed face, slack lipped and drooling. He stared at her as if she was something to be worshiped. This—this was hers, her Elvis. Only she would ever get to see this pretty picture, Elaine swore to herself, petting at his chest, flicking at one berry-bright areola. He barely twitched under her, gone quiet and pliant in a way that would worry her if he didn’t look so utterly blissed out. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was on some of them pharmaceuticals, by the glaze in his blown-pupiled eyes.

“Elvis, you with me, baby?” Elaine called, taking his chin in hand. His neck was limp, and all she got at first was an utterly drunken smile up at her, open-mouthed and guileless. It made her want to cradle him back to her chest, protect the utter innocence he exuded as he asked,

“Y’s’m?”

“Hey there, pretty boy.” She wasn’t quite sure where this all had come from, maybe some part of her recognizing the way he’d shuddered on their wedding night at her gentle attentions. Watching him fight and fight and fight his impulse to let himself be taken care of -the forcefully surrendering way he took care of her- took care of her babies, their friends, his fans, the whole goddamn world seemingly needing a piece or a part of him.

Well, he was wrung dry here and now on her chaise lounge, nothing more to give and she petted the tear wet cheek she had so vehemently slapped. This is what she could give him, she could give him a moment of weakness, everyone needs it from time to time. But, still—this had been a lot, and while she was doing mighty fine herself, Elvis was barely coherent and it worried her.

“You ready for some chicken, baby? I made some good, country fried chicken, jus’ for you, been so good for me,” Elaine let herself babble a soft stream of praises and thoughts, gently prying Elvis’ hands off her hips, holding them in one hand to kiss them before she used the other to leverage herself up and off of his soft cock, a wet gush of their combined fluids absolutely soaking him as she did. Another set of words welled up in her throat, three words that she wanted to say to him. But not right now. Not now, but soon.

“Yes’m,” he said, demurely staring up at her as she stood on wobbly feet, crinoline crinkling as she smoothed it out. Elaine was careful to keep one of her hands in his, because she had the feeling that this was not the time to deprive him of contact. Not the time to do anything but be gentle, to assure and coddle.

“You and I are gonna go clean up,” she said, taking another glance at the clock to make sure that yes, she could leave the chicken on its lonesome for a good thirty minutes so she and him could wash up. “C’mon, we made ya so messy, you’re real messy right now, honey.”

“‘M a messy boy,” Elvis giggled, beaming up at her, following her tug like a fawn—all too-long, elegant limbs, and big, shiny eyes. She led him up the stairs, his trousers undone and smeared all down the crotch to his knees with their mess, their hands clutched together as if they’d get lost without some sort of tether. And, as she guided him into the bathroom, gently tugging off his boots and then his pants, his dress shirt and then his undershirt, she had the sneaking suspicion he might just manage to wander somewhere if she wasn’t careful.

She briefly thought of the bath, but no, a washcloth would have to do—the chicken wouldn’t last much longer without her attentions, and she wanted her hard work to go into her man’s belly rather than to the stray dogs outside.

So she ran warm water and wiped him down, leaving his rumpled, stained clothes in the bathroom in favor of guiding him into their bedroom and to the clothes she habitually laid out on the counterpane. Elvis still wore a childish, empty-headed expression, all pretty face and guileless baby blues that made her heart flip. But the chicken—so she asked, carefully, “Baby, can you dress yourself? I gotta check on dinner.”

That was a mistake, a misstep, judging by the way his glistening chest started to heave in a panic and his eyes started to water afresh. “Y’yer leavin’ me?” he slurred out of puffy, shiny lips.

“No, no!” she rushed to get it out, holding onto him again and gently guiding him to sit down on the bed -the bed she’d watched him wring himself out on a week ago- “I’ll stay, I’ll stay.” she repeated, at a loss as to how to comfort him beyond touch and all her ire gone out of her at the sight of his limb shaking terror. She was still new to this, they both were. New and a little lost and they had to keep ahold of each other or they’d float away. Damn the chicken.

That was the problem wasn’t it? They needed to share everything. Solitary children, the both of them, and now they had each other. It made each separation or fissure in their shared experience a doubly worse betrayal because of it. That was Elaine’s chief complaint against him this week, it never was about other women, it was about the separation, the estrangement, the uncoupling.

Helpless, she acted on impulse and sat herself down in his naked lap, curling around him and feeling with heart melting relief his arms encircle her, squeezing her to his chest fiercely.

“T-t-the house was empty.” he stuttered out his explanation, trying to get her to understand what that was like for him -rushing home to make her stay, flinging open the door and not a bit of life to be found in his home.

His version of hell.

“You thought,” she soothed, kissing at his cheek, “but I’ve got chicken on the stove and our babies are with Betsy. I’m here. I’m right here. All that was missin’ was you. And now you’re here, too.”

His shakes subsided a little and he nods, rearing his head back to really look at her and on seeing her clearly, Elvis beams at her, wide and carefree, and it made her heart clench with… with love, to see him like this. To see the sheer trust behind this mindset he’d slipped into, it made her feel like the most special girl in the world. It made her forget any and all Susans and waitresses and other such floozies. They could have the tiny crumbs they snatched from the floor like rats—Elaine was the one with his ring on her finger, who got this. Her husband buries his face in her neck and flutters kisses over her wildly thumping pulse.

She feels like she’s keeping a secret, all of the sudden.

This, this has been coming for a long time. Building slow and steady in Elaine’s heart like the consciousness of a babe growing, first just a suspicion, and then excitement, then visible proof, and then the testing pain of it.

Till at last, a babe she loved ferociously without having ever even met it. This, somewhere along the way, this affection for him had become love, her head left behind and her heart in a full gallop, unrestrained, unreasoned with, undendiable.

“You could crush me with the tiniest word, ya know that?” she realizes it as she says it.

Realizes that’s what love is, giving power over yourself to someone else. It’s why she was so angry, so suddenly lonely, so fiercely protective of her portion of him.

It’s love.

He must’ve felt so lonely, so scared, loving her without a promise of return, there’s no way she could have managed that. He’s brave, her boy, he’s so brave. “I didn’t, I didn’t realize how strong a feelin’ it is.” she whispers, her own voice choked up with tears and Elvis raises his face from her neck abruptly, surfacing quite suddenly from his submissive stupor and looking almost wary in his hopefulness.

“What feelin’?” His voice dipps impossibly lower and it contrasts thrillingly with that boyish face.

“Ya shoulda warned me, you fool.” she blushes and smacks at his neck in embarrassed dallying, “How was I to know? Never been…never been before…”

“What feelin’!” he demands, grabbing her chin and his hand spanned the width of her jaw, one side to the other, paying her back in her own vehement coin.

Her smile grows even under the vice grip of his fingers and red lips part to flash gleaming white teeth and with a little sniffle and a roll of her chocolate drop eyes she huffs, “Love, Elvis, I’ve loved badly ya for a long time now, just didn’t realize it.”

He coulda told her that, coulda told her every little thing she did for him was loving, but she had to know it herself, so he’d let her be. The hand on her jaw spasms as he sucks in a little sob, his lip wobbling before his breath heaves back out in a:

“Oh thank god, oh baby, fuck, I don’t mean tthat I-I-I oh thank Jesus-“ his head thuds back onto her chest and she realizes he’s weeping then, tears and whatnot adding to their previous mess on her undone placard.

“Oh, shh, shh, it’s ok.” she mutters helplessly, holding onto his shoulders and trying to hug the truth deeper into him,

“Say it again.” he near wails into her breasts.

“I. Love. You.” she thumps his back with each statement like she’s burping a baby.

He pulls his head back and looks at her again, double takes, like he’s gonna glare the veracity of her truth outta her. “You’re jus’ sayin’ that casue you’re mad I ain’t no goody two shoes husband. ” he tests, moody and sullen.

Elaine knows this game, she smirks at his transparency, “These ain’t the first girls I’ve caught hangin’ on ya, E,” she reminds him, recalling as she does that Betsy, who she found him sharing an actual bed with while away from her, will be bringing the kids back any minute now, and here they are undressed, “and like I said, I’ve been obligin’ haven’t I?”

“Yeah. Don’t mean ya love me.” he points out.

“I thought we got this point into that fool head of yours while downstairs but I guess you weren’t paying attention.” she tsks, rising from his lap and stripping out of her soaked house dress -much to his confusion and distraction- while going on merrily, “I’m angry this time cause you left me out!” she dictates her point with an elegant finger to his sternum and his eyebrows raise in semi-enlightenment, “I don’t wanna be left out! I’m jealous of you, cause I love you and I’m damn proud that your mine, and you make me happier than I thought I could ever be and ya make me angrier than I-I thought either. Lord I’d do obscene things to keep you lovin me, E, I would. And I’d kill ya ‘fore I let you tire of me. If you’ve got lady friends,” she continues in the face of his growing smile, the death threat really warming his southern heart, as she pulls on another dress, “you’ll tell me about them. I’m your wife, you owe me your time and you owe me your vigor and if you’ve got scraps left to give elsewhere, well,” she flips her hair out of the collar and presses her hands primly to her sides, “then I’ll be kept informed of them. They’ll be our little secret, not yours. There ain’t a you and a me, there’s just us. You swore it, Naughty, ya swore it before God.”

“I ‘member.” he nods solemnly from his place on the side of the bed, “But there ain’t anyone else, lil Mama,” his tone is unbearably earnest, “there’s jus’ you.”

Elaine’s heart twinges at that. It’s a truth, she knows, but for how long? She’s been so scared to care about him too much, so sure he’s gonna hurt her eventually. He’d managed to wiggle his way into her heart anyway, and she’s tired of being unconscious of it, this fierce devotion dying to be let out at last.

She lets the statement be, takes it for the promise it is. She’s his wife. “I know.” She assured him.

“If ya love me,” he challenges once more, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little tired from the emotion and the exertion and the contention, “-get over her and show it.” he taunts as he leans back on the bed, his arms wide open and his body inviting and she knows he knows, knows he gets it.

She tackles him anyway. Knocking the air out of him and tossing him back into the counterpane, letting him roll her under him and thrash atop the outfit she laid out for him. Let’s him kiss her greedily and wantingly and sure, thinks she can feel the difference in him.

This is Elvis knowing he’s loved. He’s magical and sure of himself and confident in a way that boosts her own surety, like they’re feeding each other in a never ending replenishing cycle.

“My yittle baby, my perfect baby, my wifey, silly widdle thang don’t know her own mind.” he mumbles into her hairline as he peppers her face with smooches and she allows it; soaks up the dynamic change as suddenly he’s patronizing and sure of himself even as he’s talking all little and vulnerable.

He’s Elvis.

And he’s kissing her ravenously as if he can persuade her to love him more with each press of his plush lips and each nip of his teeth and lick of his tongue.

“You’ve been cryin’.” he comments as he licks at her cheeks, tasting tears, and his voice sounds surprised as if he himself wasn’t weeping a few minutes ago.

“So were you.” she laughs.

“Nuh uh.” he denies with a shake of his head and she rolls her eyes while his tongue plunges into her mouth once more. Foolish man, stubborn, bashful man that she loves, God help her-

“Yooo hooo!” comes from right outside their door, right in the upstairs hallway and Elvis dives off her onto the other side of their bed before she can even think to suggest it. His naked form lying full prone to the ground, tactically perfect -turns out the army taught him a thing or two, though that butt of his is still sticking up higher than would be preferred in a tactical setting. Elaine stifles the sound of her snicker but he sees her nose wrinkle from it and swears softly at her.

“Betsy, darlin’ just a minute.” Elaine hollers, while patting herself down to make sure she’s not misplaced some important part of herself during all this wrassling. She grabs his clothes from the bed and tosses them down at him, watching bemused as he tries to get them on in his prone position before stepping over to him to bend down and kiss him once more. “I love you.” she reminds.

He turns scarlet under the plunging neckline of his white sweater, “thank ya.” he preens sweetly and she takes a second to admire that, her hand still stroking his soft cheek, before straightening up and going to the door.

Cracking open the door the rest of the way reveals Betsy in her pretty gingham, arms straining to hold up one baby while the other strains her arm to be released for a crawl. “How do ya do it?” she gasps, talking about the children who immediately break lose of her nannying arms, Ella diving straight for her mother’s embraces while Jesse books it on the floor between Elaine’s legs, headed towards Elvis hiding place like he can sniff him out.

Elvis pops up just in time, a little rumpled and askew but thoroughly covered, though his attempt to pick up his son is aborted by the way his legs are still shaking and he wobbles onto the bed with a noisy flail. He feels Jesse pawing at his shin as Elizabeth’s eyes rake over him and he wonders if this is how Elaine felt sitting at lunch with Daddy and Dodger after their wedding night, or at each train stop on the way down fo Fort Hood when he paraded her in front of his adoring fans in between feverish bouts of love making that left her near catatonically used.

He recalls how she looked very well. He remembers his savage smugness at touching up her smudged makeup and displaying her again and again all primped after he wrecked her, wondering if the world could see how claimed she was by the wobble of her painted lip and the wide shock of her perfectly lined eyes.

Look, he’d been saying at each station stop, look at the perfect little thing that lets me love her.

He sees that smugness on Elaine’s face as she waits for Elizabeth to get her breath back as she just stares and stares at Elvis spread out in the bed like he’s grown another head. Betsy looks so shocked by the sight of him he actually looks down to make sure he’s put on pants but all's in order, he must just have “Elaine’s stud” written on his forehead and he blushes at that. He wouldn’t allow it if she didn’t love him. He’s afraid he’s gonna be allowing a lotta shit for the reason. Looking down for his pants reminds him of his baby boy, still clutching his pant leg and he grunts with the effort of heaving himself upright and pulling his little buddy into his lap.

“Hey bubs, how ya been?” he babbles as he tips backwards again, his spin worn out and he realizes he’s terribly weak and very, very hungry. He thinks he can smell buttery soft breading burning downstairs and it makes his mouth water.

“I manage it with help like yours.” Elaine replies, honest and bemused a few seconds late and she almost snaps her fingers in front of Elizabeth’s glazed eyes before the girl finally drags them back from the sight of her languid husband to her own face.

“Oh, n-no problem. Anytime.” Betsy assures again, sweet gal that she is. “Do I need to stay and work on the letters?” she asks it a little hopefully, wringing her now empty hands, and Elaine knows that she’s missed being in this house and around him, around them even, what with Elaine kicking her out for privacy during his withdrawals.

Not many families have a pretty, live-in secretary that the wife tolerates but the Presley’s aren’t most families, and Elaine is accommodating as they’ve just established, and she likes collecting people around her man that she’s certain love him the right sort of way. And if he loves them back, well, it’s a curious thing to her that she doesn’t for once doubt he’s got enough to go around. Her love cup will be overflowing from now on, she has no need to begrudge the droplets that others quench themselves with. She realizes what was missing was her own contribution.

It all settles into place, belonging and longing and having. She loves him.

“No, no need for the letters tonight.” She replies and watches Betsy’s pretty face fall for a brief moment before the girl catches herself, then Elaine adds what she always intended to add- “But stay for dinner, Betsy, so long as it hasn’t burned.”

We hope y’all enjoyed and can’t wait to hear your thoughts, screams and prompts 🌹💋

Taglist (comment if you’d like to be added, dears)

@paradsol000

@eliseinmemphis

@prompted-wordsmith

@ab4eva

@foreverdolly

@powerofelvis

@butlersxbirdy

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

@whatstruthgottodowithit

@arianatheangelgirl

@steph-speaks

@burningloverdoll

@angelface-555

@lookingforrainbows

@missmaywemeetagain

@coolgirl462

@kingdomforapony

@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@renaissingle

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

[kinascum]

ECHOES OF HIS TOUCH ⋆ ˚｡⋆

gale cleven x innocent!reader

wc: 1.7k | summary: gale's return home after years of war ignites a deeply emotional reunion, where love, longing, and healing intertwine in a moment of intense intimacy. | nav - taglist

18+ MDNI. emotional intensity. explicit content. themes of war. piv. virginity loss. fluff.

A/N! repost from my old account, which is now my personal account! feel free to peek @kinaslie

You stand in the crowded train station, the sound of distant trains and murmuring travelers a stark contrast to the quiet anticipation in your chest. It's been years since you've seen him, and the thought of his return sends a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. The digital clock above the ticket counter ticks away the seconds, each one feeling like an eternity as you wait for the moment Gale Cleven steps off that train.

As the metallic beast pulls into the station, the doors slide open with a hiss and a groan. A flood of soldiers, weary from battle, begin to spill out onto the platform. Each one carries the weight of untold stories etched into their faces. You scan the sea of uniforms, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. And then you spot him, his eyes locking onto yours through the throng. Gale's smile is like a beacon in the fog of war-weary faces, lighting up the gloomy station.

He strides towards you, the familiar lilt in his step that's somehow remained untouched by the horrors of war. His arms open wide, and without a word, you rush into his embrace. The fabric of his military jacket is coarse against your skin, but the warmth of his body envelops you like a comforting blanket. His scent, a mix of musk and distant lands, fills your nose. You breathe it in greedily, feeling like you've come home.

Tears stream down your face as you cling to him, your mind racing with the years that have passed and the fear that he might not have come back at all. Gale's grip tightens around you, his breath warm on your neck as he whispers reassurances. "I'm here," he says, his voice a gentle rumble. "I'm home." His words are like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your fears and worries.

The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you standing in the noisy station. You pull back to look at him, your eyes searching his for any signs of the pain he must have endured. They're the same piercing blue you remember, but there's a depth to them now, a maturity that wasn't there before. He wipes a tear from your cheek, his thumb lingering for a moment before he takes your hand and leads you out of the station, into the blinding sunlight and the promise of a future you've both been fighting for.

You walk through the town, the familiar cobblestone streets feeling like a dream under your feet. His hand in yours is the only anchor you need. Each step feels like a silent dance, a ballet of two souls reunited after a long and perilous journey. The air is electric with the anticipation of what's to come, a slow burn that's been simmering between you for years. You've written letters, shared stories, and dreamed of this moment, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality of having him back.

You reach your small cottage on the outskirts of town, the ivy that climbs the walls a testament to the time that's passed. Gale looks around, his eyes taking in every detail, as if he's trying to memorize the sight of it. His gaze lingers on the porch swing where you used to sit together, sharing secrets and whispered promises. With a gentle tug, he leads you inside, the door creaking open to reveal a space that's remained unchanged, frozen in time. The sun filters through the lace curtains, casting a warm glow over the simple furnishings, highlighting the dust motes that dance in the air.

He sets his duffel bag down with a thud, and you watch as he moves through the rooms, his eyes lingering on photographs and knick-knacks that you've collected over the years. "It's just like I remembered," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

You sit down at the kitchen table, the same one where you used to do homework together, and he pulls out a chair, sitting so close that his leg brushes against yours. He reaches out, tentatively at first, to touch your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his thumb. His eyes are intense, searching for any hint of doubt or fear. "You're so beautiful," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

The air between you crackles with tension, the kind that comes from years of longing and a thousand unspoken words. You lean into his touch, your eyes closing as his hand moves to cradle the back of your neck. His mouth finds yours in a kiss that's tender and sweet, a promise of what's to come. It's a moment that feels like forever, a perfect encapsulation of every emotion that's built up within you.

Gale pulls back, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice a gentle whisper. You nod, unable to find the words to express the certainty that fills you. He smiles, a soft curve of his lips that reaches his eyes, and leans in again, this time with more urgency. His kiss is a declaration, a silent vow that you're ready to hear.

You stand, taking his hand, and lead him up the stairs to the bedroom you've shared so many times in your dreams. The floorboards creak beneath your feet, a nostalgic sound that seems to echo the beating of your hearts. As you reach the door, he stops you, turning you to face him. "I need to hear it," he says, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. "Tell me you want this."

The words come out in a rush, a breathless whisper. "I do. I want this, Gale. I want you." His eyes darken with desire, and he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you over the threshold. The room is bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the bed neatly made but untouched since he left. He sets you down on the mattress, his hands trembling slightly as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing the muscled chest that's seen so much.

He lays beside you, his hand tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your hip. His touch is reverent, as if he's afraid you might shatter in his hands. You reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb caressing the line of his jaw as you chuckle. "I'm not going anywhere."

The tension snaps like a bowstring, and he kisses you again, his hands roaming over your body with a gentle urgency. You feel the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart against your own. He takes his time, exploring every inch of you with his mouth and hands, worshipping you like the treasure you are. When he finally enters you, it's with a soft groan that mingles with your gasp of pleasure. The pain is brief, a fleeting reminder of the innocence you're leaving behind.

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, praising your beauty, your strength, your courage. You wrap your legs around him, holding on tight as he moves with a rhythm that feels like it's been written into your very soul. Each stroke is a promise, a declaration of love that's been forged in the fires of war and tempered by time. Your breaths mingle, your bodies joined in a dance that's both new and as old as the stars.

As you reach the pinnacle together, your cries of ecstasy fill the room, echoing through the quiet house like a battle cry of triumph. For a moment, the world stops, and all that exists is the two of you, intertwined in a web of passion and love. Gale holds you close, his breathing ragged, his heart racing against yours. He whispers your name like a prayer, his arms tightening around you as if he's afraid you might vanish.

And in that moment, you know that you've come home. That this is where you're meant to be, with this man who's seen the worst of humanity and still chooses to love you with all that he is. You lay in his arms, the sweetness of the moment lingering, the warmth of his embrace a cocoon around you. The world outside can wait, because right now, all that matters is the two of you, together again in the soft embrace of the night.

[elviswhore69]

moans.

[elvisabutler]

don't rock the boat

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( 50s elvis ) x female reader word count: 2419 warnings: handjobs. public play. use of teddy bear and sugar bear and as nicknames. mild embarrassment kink. talk about fear of heights. mild insecurity on the reader's part. minor cum eating. a minor touch of sub e but not quite? author’s note: welcome to day 11 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, public play with 50s elvis presley x reader. no real notes for this beyond you can imagine austin or regular elvis for this and this went through a name change and a "what happened in the smut" change twice. thank y'all for reading and i hope this scratches an itch for some of y'all! and yes i did forget a warning or two. that'll teach me to post before dinner.

"Don't wanna pretend ya don't exist," Elvis murmurs into the crook of your neck. "Satnin loves ya and Daddy does and Dodger a-and if my fans don't, then maybe they ain't fans of *me*."

You laugh, watching as the warm air from your breath shook a few of Elvis's strands of hair loose. "Oh, they're fans alright. Jus' of those hips and what they want you to do wit' 'em."

Your boyfriend of two years looks down at his feet, the very picture of the shy boy you fell in love with. That boy you fell in love with who stuttered so bad you had to finish his words for him until he got used to you and gave you little nicknames. None of them have stuck, though and he's had to resort to the typical baby and darlin'. Still, it doesn't change the rush of love he feels for you and that you feel for him any time you're within fifty feet of each other.

He's still managing the bashful look for longer than you think is strictly necessary and you take a moment to bend down, forcing him to have to look at your face, grin and all. "Am I making my Teddy Bear feel embarrassed? Don't wanna think of all those girls dreaming of you and your hips?"

There's more words on the tip of your tongue that Elvis makes disappear when he sneaks a kiss on your lips and steals just a little bit of your breath away. His smile threatens to fill your heart to bursting with love before he speaks. "I know I got one girl I want to. Kisses like an angel, too."

"An angel?" Your tone is a little playful, as you grab at his face and pull him in for another kiss. "Does she look like one too?"

His eyes soften just a tad before pressing his forehead against yours. "Always. Figure if I marry her I'll be in heaven on Earth."

A laugh leaves your mouth as you shake your head. "Now you're jus' bein' cheesy, 'Vis. Come on, let's— you promised me time at this fair 'fore you gotta go back on tour."

"Still think I oughta take ya wit' me," is all you hear behind you as a grumbled reply.

"I'm not going on the ferris wheel!"

"Darlin', it ain't that high. Don't ya wanna look over the whole fair? Feel larger than everythin'?" Elvis tries to reason with you in front of the ferris wheel. You're both thankfully not in line and holding it up but you're still within earshot of some people snickering.

"I— That's what you want to do, not— not me. No, I'm okay to stay on the ground, thank you very much." You wince at how you're practically stuttering out your answer and at how people are snickering at the discussion about it that you and Elvis are having.

Elvis's eyes drift to the crowd and in the back of his mind he hears the Colonel's voice reminding him that those girls are the ones who pay to hear him sing. Those girls don't know you're anything more than a friend to him. After all, it's one thing to have a famous girl on your arm, another to have in his words—a plain Jane hometown girl. One is threatening and the other is something that can be tossed aside. Their laughter has gotten louder and he sees you starting to curl in on yourself in an effort to make yourself seem smaller and less noticeable. That's not what you do. That's never been what you do and Elvis can't stand seeing it. With one final glance toward the crowd, he steps forward and grabs your face with both hands, pulling you into a kiss. There's a series of loud gasps in the crowd and you immediately start to pull away only to feel one of his hands move down to your hip and pull you back flush against him. You swear you feel his cock starting to firm up.

"I wanna take in every moment tonight wit' ya. I know ya don't wanna go up on that but— honey, I don't— I gotta have ya with me." He looks back at the crowd. "And I wanna show ya off. Want 'em to see who I love more than anyone other than my mama."

For a moment you don't move, the still tittering giggles echoing in your head even as his words fully sink in. He wants to be with you and wants to show people he's with you, damn the consequences to his career. It warms you from the inside out on the slightly chilly October night and you can't help the way you bite your lip and rock just slightly against him as a thank you almost. His eyes widen just a hair even as they darken.

"You're gonna have to protect me, Teddy Bear. And you'll have to do the leading this time."

A smirk crosses his lips before he steps away, holding out his hand as he does so. "Then come on, Sugar Bear. Let me show ya how fun these can be."

Flashes of cameras are the only thing you see going up and a part of you wants to bury your face into Elvis's chest before you decide against it. He wants to show you off so you'll give everyone a show to see you at least this once. Elvis is talking to you as you're going up, telling you to look in the distance and pointing out things that make him laugh, shaking the pod as he does. It should terrify you but seeing Elvis happy like this calms you down better than you ever thought was possible. As you finally reach the top, you've curled against Elvis, your hand settled into his lap as he peers over at you.

"Ya plannin' on doin' somethin' there, Sugar Bear?" He teases even as he realizes that this Ferris wheel is going awfully slow and he swears he hears something creaking that shouldn't be. A quick peek down has him even more worried, not that he shows it on his face.

"I felt him. Down there, 'Vis. Felt him say hello against me." You answer, attempting to appear innocent, only to have the smirk on your face ruining it. "Thought he wanted to see one of his friends."

Elvis leans back against the back of the pod and lets out a sigh. "Oh he wants to see one o' them al'ight. Jus' not the one you're bringin' out."

You start to open your mouth to speak only to hear the sound of the Ferris wheel stopping. Your heartbeat jumps as you look down and feel the pod move with every shift you and Elvis do. This is why you hadn't wanted to come up here and within what feels like an instant your breath starts coming in small pants, panicking until you feel Elvis's hands grab yours. For some ungodly reason his cock is still at attention, pressing against his slacks and giving your eyes something to focus on that isn't the ground below you.

"Sugar Bear, you— look at me. Focus on me. Ain't— We'll be fine. Got stuck on one of these in Alabama a while back. They're gonna fix it." Elvis stares at your face for a moment before glancing down at your hands, still faintly shaking. "Let— I'm gonna— Ya need somethin' else to focus on. Ya— hell, this ain't the time and place but ya wanna focus on him? Got him all achin' for ya."

"Someone might see!" You practically shout though no one can hear you from how high up you are. "I— Elvis. It'll be all over the papers and you'll be in so much trouble."

"'Cause I fooled 'round with my girlfriend?" His answering chuckle has the pod shaking just a little bit and you bite your lip, eyes trying to stay glued to his crotch in order to focus on something calming— in a way. "Darlin'— ya— ain't no one gonna see but you and me. I'll— I'll make it up to ya as soon as we're back on the ground."

As if to prove the point, he removes one of his hands and places it right above your pubic bone, pressing against it in a way that has you arching your back just a little bit. You curse the fact that he knows you so well in that moment and curse how you know he's aware of how damp your underwear has become with that action after everything else. Your tongue darts out to lick at your lips before your free hand starts to unbutton his slacks.

Tonight you had thought Elvis had on his underwear and yet as soon as your hand moves the zipper, you're greeted by the soft flesh of his foreskin. There's minor prickles of his hair but you ignore them in favor of seeing how his pink little head is starting to peek out. Your mouth waters.

"You gotta be quiet, Teddy Bear. And you better promise."

"Scouts honor, honey— Lord—" he hisses out a curse word or five at the way you spit onto his cock, preparing it before his precum could do the job for you. You take your time, inching back his foreskin and revealing his aching cock to you. "Gentle— I— Been forever since I had ya grip 'im like this."

A smile crosses your face at the praise as Elvis shifts, trying to pump his cock in your hand when you're not moving it. "Patience, Teddy Bear. I can lead you everywhere, 'member? I don't want to hurt him."

"He'll heal up for his other friends real quick," he pants as you finally start to move your hand against the soft skin of his cock. The precum his body produces in what always feels like an overabundance having your hand glide smoothly up and down his cock. Your thumb brushes against the tip and his teeth dig into his lower lip to try and not yowl at the sensation. Your hands smaller than his but it's so much softer, no calluses and gentler even as your pace feels breakneck. His hips don't want to stop moving, humping as if that will earn him more friction or give him a better hole to fuck then the one you're making with your hand. It rocks the pod enough that he finally feels your free arm practically pinning his hips down. "Come— Don't be like that. Let 'em—"

"We're shakin' too much." You say as if that explains everything. "You still want to— release don't you?"

Somehow despite having seen each other naked and despite the fact that you two have done multiple sexual things together the word come always flusters you just a little. In another time and place Elvis would have laughed. If his cock wasn't feeling like it was gonna burst, he'd have laughed. He swears his balls twitch in fear at the idea of not coming. The only response he can manage is a fierce nod. "Ya know I do."

"Then stop movin'!," you request except it sounds more like a demand than anything else. It works though and Elvis finds himself pinned to the back of the seat in the pod even as you remove your arm. He chances a glance at you, marveling in how your tongue sticks out as you pump his pink cock. Your hand can't entirely fit around it and yet it feels better than any time he stroked himself on the road to the thought of you. His cock is covered in precum and he wishes it was both yours and his making it shiny and glistening but for now it'll do. He can survive and bury his face in your little kitty and bury his cock in later. He leans back, head looking up at the night sky, trying to keep himself from coming too soon at the feel of your hand and how your face looks as you pleasure him.

There's a noise that signals they're almost done fixing the ferris wheel that hits Elvis's ears over the slick and squelching sounds of your hand pumping his cock and he moves to grab your wrist, forcing you to stop. "We're gonna start moving soon. Gotta—"

As if you don't want to hear the words he's saying you cut him off with a kiss and start to move your hand and wrist and thumb in such a way that has him clawing at the metal, your skirt, his pants, anything to try and steady himself before you lean over and whisper. "Let go."

Despite his best efforts a shout leaves his mouth as he comes, the intensity hitting him not unlike a lightning bolt. His breath comes in pants, quick and uncontrolled as he looks down to see your hand covered in his cum and the seat with some of it as well. He supposes he should be thankful it didn't get onto his pants. He starts to offer a handkerchief he has in his pocket to clean you off before he realizes you're licking your hand clean. Words fail him in that moment as he just stares.

You shrug even as he can see the embarrassment at being caught clear on your face. "I— i missed how it tasted."

"You can taste him all night long tonight." He murmurs, the words tumbling out before he even thinks to say anything else. His mouth is open to say more when you both feel the ride start to move once more. Elvis wastes no time in buttoning up his slacks and making sure you're both put back together as if nothing had happened by the time you're back on the ground.

The pair of you don't waste a single moment exiting the pod, ignoring Scotty's question about what that shout was up there to try and find some place private enough for Elvis to stick his head under your skirt. You settle for a private spot next to a tent no one goes into in the dark. As Elvis sinks down to his knees he winks at you. "Missed how she tasted too. One more ride after this? Or do I need to take you home?"

"Depends," you look down at Elvis and card your hands through his hair. "Depends on if we're still achin' after all this."

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust, @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08, @arabellalightning505, @doll-elvis guarantee i’m missing someone. i tried the end. also i clearly added this originally. also you want to be added just ask me. i keep forgetting people or losing people in these and just it’s a mess.

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 31🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/ Vampire Austin! Elvis x reader)

Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you tear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, SMUT!!! , some fluff if you squint, teasing, Dom/sub stuff

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.8k

A/N: Well, here we are. We’ve arrived at the end of their journey. 🥺 This was such a wild ride and the most fun I have ever had writing. Thank you to everyone that loved this fic from the very beginning or picked it up one night out of pure curiosity and couldn’t get enough of Vampire Elvis.😏 It means so much to me that you all loved this story as much as I do. It makes my heart so happy when I get tagged in post with him looking damn good in his vampire outfits. The man just couldn’t hide his true nature hehe.

This isn’t the last you’ll hear from these two. I already know I’ll come back to write little blurbs for them because I love them so much 🤭 I hope you enjoy this last part though! I know it took me a while but that was because I had a spicy scene idea and just had to add it in here. This bedroom scene was not supposed to be this long but here we are. Hope you enjoy!

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here or Ao3! hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you walk, through a storm

Hold your head up high

And don’t 

Be afraid

Of the dark…

Oh that heavenly voice, you could recognize it from anywhere. Where was it coming from? Was it your imagination? Was it beckoning you to come to the other side? 

Your eyes flutter open slowly, taking in a sharp breath. You feel soft silk sheets underneath your hands and instantly sit up. You didn’t know where you were at first. You rub your eyes a bit, getting them to focus on the environment around you. You look at your arms and feel a soft satin pajama top hang loosely on your frame. It smelled like someone had worn this already. Or someone was lying next to you while you were lying here, waiting for you to get up. 

The black curtains on the walls blocked the sunlight from getting into the room. The scent in here was divine, so intoxicatingly good you didn’t want to leave it. 

At the end of a storm

There's a golden sky

And the sweet silver song of a lark

It then hits you; you’re back in the penthouse in Vegas. How did you get here? So much was unclear about how much time had passed. You remember fighting with Raphael, then looking into Elvis’ beautiful eyes. 

The song continues to crescendo;

Walk on through the wind

Walk on through the rain

For your dreams be tossed and blown

You were so drawn to that voice that rang out so flawlessly and pure. Getting up from the bed, you tread carefully to the door. The sound of the piano rings louder as you swing the door open.

Walk on, walk on

With hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone-

Oh, there he is. Elvis. The one that makes your heart flutter a million miles an hour. He was wearing black slacks and a blazer, his chest bare other than a blue scarf that hung around his neck. He was just stunning in every way, it was like seeing him for the very first time. The most simple of outfits had him sparkling with a light from within. He stops the song abruptly to look at you. You can hear him take a sharp breath in and his eyes light up when they see you. 

“Baby,” he breathes. 

You can’t help but smile when you hear him call you that. You never thought you’d hear him say that to you ever again. You were so happy he was here and didn’t leave you on your own. 

You walk over to him, looking at his beautiful eyes glazed over with tears. He doesn’t seem real. How can one man be this beautiful on the inside and out? You reach your hand out to touch his face. It was soft and warm, each detail on his face was something the Greek gods probably sculpted. His eyes flutter closed when he feels your skin on his. A low rumble forms in his chest and he puts his hand on yours, bringing it to his lips. 

Heat consumes your body. Those lips are pure perfection when you feel them on you. He stares up at you with wonder, “How do you feel?” He asks softly. 

“Great,” you whisper. The events in the garden flood your head and you don’t remember how you got here... Something about being here was so comforting though. Everything about this place was warm and inviting to you, just how you felt when you first walked in here. 

He doesn’t know what to say right away and takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says softly, looking at you with adoration. You weren’t exactly sure where he was coming from. The last time you remember, he didn’t care about you anymore. But your brain screamed for him to love you. It wouldn’t shut up.

Let him love you! You love him so much!

Deep down you knew he still loved you in some way. You don’t say anything back to him. His face washes over with sadness and gets up from the piano bench. 

“Hold on baby,” he says quietly. He walks over to the front door. He’s only gone a few seconds and comes back to bring another man into the room. 

He was the one that was at the airport with you a few days ago. Jerry, how could you forget his name. 

Jerry sees you and courtly smiles. He looked almost relieved to see you here.

“Hey y/n,” he says softly. 

Elvis looks at him apprehensively, taking a deep breath before speaking. 

“Okay, go ahead,” Elvis tells him. 

You look at both of them confused, not understanding what he’s talking about. Jerry walks into the room a bit more, nervously looking at you. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “I’m keeping my promise y/n. I'm sorry you got hurt,” he says, pausing briefly, “remember everything. Remember everything you told me to make you forget.” He says matter of factly.

In a blink, all your memories come flooding in. It was like looking at a magic mirror, each memory passing by and getting re-embedded in your mind. You remember the plan to distract Raphael, how you coerced Jerry to help you forget everything so your cover wouldn’t be blown. Most importantly, you remembered the love you and Elvis had. It was blinding and intense, just like him. It makes your heart beat wildly and you try to keep it together. You stumble back a bit, the back of your knees hitting the piano bench making you sit down.

You remember every single moment you had together so crystal clear. Every single longing stare, every kiss, every embrace. 

Everything. 

You felt your heart soar, so full of love and joy. It was exactly what was missing inside you. That hollowness you had been walking around with before was the worst thing you had ever felt. Now, all of that ceased to exist. 

You looked back up at Jerry and laughed a little bit, more out of nervousness. 

“Thank you,” you tell him relieved. 

He sighs a breath of relief too, thankful you were okay and back to normal. 

“Thank God, this was the scariest seventy-two hours of my life,” he says panicked, looking back at Elvis. 

“I know I’m sorry. But thank you for helping me. Thank you for sneaking in that dagger. That saved my life,” you say gratefully.

Elvis looks like he’s overcome with emotion, looking at you with awe and amazement. He walks further into the room to get closer to you, not paying any attention to Jerry. 

“Thanks, Jerry. Please get out now,” he says nonchalantly pushing past him, still staring at you with amazement. You nod at him and smile, silently thanking him. He understands the gesture and Jerry gives you another smile, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

Elvis sinks to his knees in front of you, getting in between your legs and wrapping his arms around your waist. He stifles his tears, rubbing circles on your back, gently caressing you. You are overcome with emotion too and wrap your arms around Elvis, relieved to have him here. He hugs you tight, pressing his forehead against your chest, sighing as he feels your body against him.

“Oh God,” he says low. 

His fingers tangle in your hair and you look down at him, lifting his chin up for a kiss. You melt in his arms and that kiss is sending you straight to heaven. You thought you were never going to feel those beautiful plush lips again. Oh, how you missed them. How perfect they felt on you. They were warm and soft, just as you remembered. You squeeze him tighter, trying to get closer and devour him. Both of you were needy, wanting to touch and kiss every inch of each other. 

You were left breathless with the way he was kissing you. He let out these soft little whimpers as he kissed you deeper and deeper. He clung onto your body like he was fearful you were going to fly away. You can feel his heartbeat rattle against your chest, overcome with love for you. 

He gently breaks away from you, looking into your eyes and smiling. 

“You’re okay,” he say relieved, “oh my God you’re okay!” He says going in for another kiss. You chuckle when he kisses you, “Yes, I’m great. Never better.”

“You’re absolutely insane oh God-, I was worried sick baby. Please-, don’t ever leave me again. I was an absolute wreck without you,” he whimpers into your chest. 

You hold him, trying to soothe him in any way you can. 

“I know, I’m so so sorry.” You say regretfully. “But I had to leave when I did, you see? He was going to come here and attack you that day I left. He had this whole plan devised,” you tell him scared, reliving those terrifying thoughts. “If I left a second later it would have been for nothing and I would have been too late.”

“I know, I know. It’s okay honey. I’m not upset. I was at first of course, you knew how I’d get, but I knew you could do it. You are stronger than I could have ever imagined,” he tells you, pausing to smile at you. “You saved me, baby. Thank you, I can never repay you for that.”

He reaches up to give you another tender kiss. His words make your heart soar, filling up with love and butterflies for him. 

“If it meant saving you, I would never hesitate to do it again.” You whimper. “I knew you still loved me, even though I was compelled to forget that, that’s what kept me going. I knew you loved me still.” You explain.

“Of course baby, of course I do. I could feel your sorrow the longer you were there. It was so much different than last time. I knew you still could feel our connection but tried to ignore it,” he explains.

“Yeah, I couldn’t figure out what it was, but I now know I could never forget our love,” you say teary-eyed. He nods his head and kisses you once again, his needy eyes making you weak in his arms.

“Wait, is it done? Is it over with Raphael?” You asked concerned, squeezing his arms tightly. 

“Yes, honey. We never have to worry about him again. You did the most brave and courageous thing. You remember what you did right? You stabbed him in the heart with the dagger and ended him for good. I helped with the rest but you did it. I knew you were strong enough,” he tells you, smiling sweetly. 

You remember everything so clearly and shiver. The way the dagger felt when it pierced his back and the sound he made when it went through his heart. You are just thankful it’s done and you never have to worry about a crazed vampire trying to kill you or Elvis. 

Fear paralyzes you when you think of one other person who hated you enough to cause you harm. 

“And what about Daniel?” You ask him nervously. 

“He’s gone for good too, don’t you worry. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you again baby,” he coos, squeezing you tight against him. You savor how he feels, never wanting to let go of him. 

“I won’t either,” you promise. 

“You feel perfectly fine?” He asks. You can sense he’s a bit uncomfortable, not able to get out what is on his mind. “Raphael… he didn’t do anything else to you? He didn’t touch you in any way…” he says uncomfortably. 

You see what he’s getting at and squeeze his bicep, “No, he didn’t do anything like that. I’m fine now, I swear. I don’t feel any pain.” You reassure him. He nods his head and squeezes you tightly. “Are you okay? Your ankle… I heard that awful sound,” you tremble. 

“Completely healed honey,” he smiles. You are thankful that you both are in perfect health, no ailments hurting you anymore. No, wait…

You get up quickly to push past him and go to the bedroom. You had to see if the scars were still on your body. It was going to be terrifying to get a glimpse of those horrendous scars but you had to look. You move the collar of the pajamas and hold your breath. You finally peek at your reflection and stare wide-eyed at yourself. Your skin was flawless again. Not a glimmer of scarring stained your skin. It was perfect and glowing again. And you knew this time, it was forever true. Raphael didn’t have a claim on you and couldn’t try to take you away from Elvis again. 

Elvis walks up behind you and leans your body against his. You unbutton the first few buttons of the top to inspect the rest of your body. Not a single nick or scratch on you. Elvis wraps his hands around your waist, gently squeezing your soft flesh. He places a kiss on the crook of your neck. 

“So beautiful as always,” he coos quietly. His gruff voice gives you chills up and down your body as you smile at him in the reflection. 

You watch as his hands crinkle up the silk top up. 

“There’s just one spot I couldn’t heal…” he says as he lifts the top higher revealing your ribs. “The dagger is too damaging to our skin.” A thin pale scar running vertically lay there. It was on the lower part of your ribs and you look at it inquisitively. Your fingertips gently graze it, feeling how smooth your skin is over it. It doesn’t hurt and you look over the rest of your naked body in the mirror and are thankful that all your scars were gone. 

“It’s okay baby. I’m alive. That’s all that matters,” you say turning around to face him. “This is nothing compared to what I had before.”

His face looked worried as he squeezed your hands gently in his. “I loved you no matter how you looked, baby. I didn’t find you any less attractive with those scars. No one could tear me away from you, I swear.”

“I know, I believe you, thank you for loving me so wholly,” you whisper. 

He leans down for another kiss, fire consuming your thoughts. Finally, for the first time, you felt completely his. You couldn’t tear yourself away even if you tried. There wasn’t a worry in your mind anymore. All you cared about was you and him. 

You whimper into his mouth, his lips and his body feeling too good against yours. You can feel the smirk forming on his face, enjoying all of this too. 

He pulls away, letting your forehead touch his. 

“I’m never letting you out of my sight ever again, you know that right?” He teases. You hum amused, “Yes, I figured that was going to happen once I devised this plan,” you giggle, “I’m more than okay with that. I missed you so much.”

“Me too honey.” His voice trembles a bit when he says this. 

He picks you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. He carries you to the bed, gently setting you down on the end of it. He peppers soft kisses on your cheeks and neck, melting into him. You wanted him to take you, right here, right now. You could feel how much he wanted you, there was no denying that. You wanted to beg him for things you’re too embarrassed to admit. Your hands sneak into his jacket, feeling those lovely soft chest hairs that reside there. 

He pauses briefly, a hint of mischief glimmering in his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him, squeezing his hand that’s on your thigh, wanting him to move it higher. 

“I wanted to show you something,” he murmurs. You look expectantly at him, wondering what he’s talking about. 

“Okay, what is it?” You ask. 

“There’s one thing I haven’t exactly been honest about,” he chuckles. Your eyebrows furrow, not understanding what he’s insinuating. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve never shown you what I really look like. Under all this facade, you’ve never seen the real me,” he quips. 

You can’t help but giggle, “I’d love to see you like that. You’re handsome no matter what.” He smiles at you and takes off his jacket. 

“Hold on,” he murmurs. 

You watch as he walks to the closet to hang it up, showing his beautiful toned back. You swear this man did not have a bad side to him. 

A few moments pass, anxiously waiting for him to come back. You walk to the window, opening the curtains to let the sun in. The light comes pouring in and you gaze up on the city below. It was so quiet from up here, but if you focused, it was livelier than ever. This city never failed to amaze you. The warmth of the sun simmered on your skin and you didn’t mind it. It made you feel real. 

“Baby?” Elvis’ voice says gently behind you. 

You turn around and smile at what you find. 

The most stunning man was in front of you. His eyes were ocean blue, pulling you in and making you swim in them. His hair and sideburns were shorter, showcasing his beautiful clean face. His pouty lips were the same and looked as good as ever. He looked so young, so bright, and the way he was looking at you was soft and full of innocence. He nervously twisted his rings back and forth, waiting for you to say something to him.

But you were too distracted to say what you were thinking. Could you fall anymore in love with him? You could have sworn the answer was no but it seems like he found another way to make you fall for him. The sunlight shining in made him glow like a beautiful angel. You’re almost certain he fell straight out of heaven and was made just for you. You didn’t deserve such a perfect man. The world didn’t deserve him. 

He put on a black silk button-up and it was a bit baggy on him. He was so slender yet exuded strength. He didn’t falter his intense gaze. Lord, those eyes were so beautiful and made you want to do anything he asked of you. 

You walk up to him, taking in his entire presence. 

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper, taking his face in your hands. He felt the same, the same beautifully sculpted face with not a flaw on it. 

He hums delighted, “thank you, mama,” he says low, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Do you feel any different?” You ask him. He chuckles softly as he places his hands on your hips. 

“No I don’t baby, the only thing I notice different is how I look in the mirror,” he smirks. “Do you like me this way?”

“Of course I do. I love you no matter what,” you say reaching up for a kiss.

He pulls you in, needing you closer. You can feel his heart hammer away, nerves and love rattling in his chest. His lips kiss you like he’s been dying for you. You squeeze at his biceps, not wanting to let him go, and desperately need his lips on your body. 

He pauses briefly, struggling for breath, “God, I missed you. I missed you so much,” he tells you. 

“Mhmm, I missed you too baby,” you hum. He goes back for another kiss, groaning softly as he feels your body. 

You tear off his shirt, needing to feel his skin. You unbutton the rest of your top too and your hands roam his soft, sculpted back. 

“I missed you. Fuck, please don’t leave me ever again,” he pleads. He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth and groaning when he does so. You can’t help but moan too, needing him more than you realize. 

“Never. Never again, I promise,” you groan into his mouth. 

His touches become more intense and your body starts to feel on fire. His fingers find your clit, groaning when he discovers how dripping wet you are for him. You gasp at the friction, needing him to satisfy your every last desire. 

“Mama,” he whimpers. 

“What baby,” you whisper, your thumb grazing his bottom lip. 

“I need you. I need you so much,” he tells you. 

“What do you need hmm?” You say breathless. 

“I-I-I just need y-you baby,” he groans. 

“Show me. Show me on your knees.” You tell him. His eyes grow soft and he starts leaving kisses down your neck, nipping softly there. You sigh at the feeling of his lips on you, making you more ravenous for him. He starts to kneel down in front of you, continuing to kiss every square inch of your body. 

He pauses when he gets to your core, looking up at you with pleading eyes. 

“I need to take care of you,” he whimpers, his thumb grazing the top of your mound. Your body tingles from his touch and those electric blue eyes have you in dire need of his attention. 

“Please take care of me,” you plead. 

He smiles and nods his head at you, placing your leg on his shoulder and rubbing his thumb through your folds. Your slick seeps out of you, wanting him to fulfill his promise of taking care of you. He teases, creating the most delicious friction on your clit and your entrance. You sigh at the sensations, tangling your fingers in his soft hair. 

You can feel his breath on your body, making you tremble with need. 

“Fuck,” he groans, “so wet for me.”

“Yes, all for you baby,” you gasp out as he rubs your sensitive bundle of nerves in more concentrated circles. He groans deeply before swiping his tongue through your folds. You gasp, loving how he feels on you. You rock your hips onto his mouth and he moans pleased by your actions.

“Fuck baby,” you sigh.

He suckles on your clit as a low moan came from the back of his throat, making your eyes roll back in your head. He knew exactly what to do to make you fall apart instantly. His hands squeeze tighter on your thighs, his heat consuming you. You cling onto his soft tresses and look down at how focused his face is buried between your legs. He flashes his beautiful eyes at you, making you moan.

“Elvis,” you cry. He stops briefly, biting his lip softly as he looks up at you innocently.

“Yes baby,” he says hushed, rubbing his fingers through your folds again. You curse his name, unable to think clearly with his hands on you like this. You then feel his finger slowly enter your weeping core. He pumps it in and out of you slowly, watching his finger get covered in your slick then looking back up at you innocently.

“What baby? What is it?” He asks sweetly, twisting his finger deeper inside of you.

“I need you-, please keep using your mouth too,” you whimper.

He listens and puts his mouth back on you, lapping and suckling at your clit again. You could feel yourself fall apart the longer he used his mouth on you. Your core ached with need and he could sense it. He looks up at you as he slips in another long, slender finger inside you, watching your reaction. Your mouth falls open and you squeeze around his digits.

“Oh God yes,” you groan.

He hums delighted with his mouth on you and groans too. God, he felt so good, he was making you lose all control and you wanted him to keep doing just that. You weren’t going to last very long with the way he kept looking up at you with those luring, dangerous eyes. Even with his younger appearance, he was dangerous and knew he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. He thrusts his finger into you faster, curling them deep inside you making you want to cry to the heavens. They hit that sensitive spot inside you that could make you cum on his command. 

He takes his mouth off of you, too enthralled watching you reach peak pleasure.

“You like that baby? You like my fingers stuffed inside you?” He asks softly.

“Yes, please don’t stop baby,” you whimper.

He doesn’t move right away, instead, he gives a devilish little look at you. That’s when you feel another finger get stuffed inside you, stretching you to the brink. You gasp and feel your legs almost give out. He has a tight enough grip on your waist to still you. He moves slowly and doesn’t leave your gaze.

“Is that okay honey? Does that feel good?” He asks.

You nod your head, “yes honey- oh please-, you’re going to make me come,” you beg. He pumps his fingers deeper inside you, smirking as he watches your hips move with him. Each movement got you closer and closer to the sun.

“Fuck yes, baby. Look at me when you come though. Let me see you,” he begs. 

You stare helplessly at him and rock your hips onto his hand.

“That’s it, baby, let me feel you,” he encourages.

You look into his eyes and crumble instantly, feeling your walls squeeze around him and pleasure skyrockets through you. Your body trembles with need and feels dizzy in the haze of ecstasy. You hold onto his shoulder, crying for him to keep going. 

“Yes mama, so good.” He praises. 

The sound of his low, gravely voice has you reeling and weaker than ever before. Your climax kept building and he wasn’t stopping until you had your fill. You slowly took your leg off of his shoulder and couldn’t stand any longer. You gently sink to your knees too and you’re at eye level with him. 

His chest heaves and looks at you with innocence. 

“Did I do good mama?” He asks softly. 

“God-, yes. Yes, you did very good,” you say pretty breathlessly. 

He gently takes his fingers out of you, making you gasp from the loss of him. You go to kiss him with intense passion and feel how wet his face is from devouring you. Your hands snake down to his upper thigh and feel his hard cock laying down his leg. He groans and stops kissing you, looking up at you needy. You look down at his length, rubbing your fingers up and down it. 

“Do you need somethin’, baby?” You ask innocently, looking up into this oceanic blues. 

He looks down at what your hand is doing and looks back up at you to speak. 

“Oh mama please,” he groans. 

“Please what?” You say. 

“Please keep touching me,” he begs. 

You take your hand off of him and nod your head. 

“Take your pants off for me then,” you tell him. 

You don’t know what it is, but he’s total putty in your hands right now. You’re pretty sure he’d do anything you ask him to. 

He stands up slowly, his fingers working his button and sliding down the zipper. He pulls his pants down until they fall around his ankles. You stare up at him and feel the pulse in your core begin to grow again. He was so beautiful, so sexy, not a thing was unattractive about this man. Your eyes get drawn to his length, precum dribbling out of his head. He was dying for your touch, you could feel it and you could hear his short shallow breaths waiting for your next instruction. 

“Touch yourself, show me how bad you want me,” you tease. He stares at you dumbfounded, not expecting such a demand. He looks down at his length, “mama. Please, please touch me,” he begs. 

You shake your head at him, “Not until you show me how bad you want me,” you tempt. 

He finally listens and nods his head. You watch as he lowers his hand to his shaft, rubbing the leaking precum on his tip. He bites his lip as he does this, reveling in the much-needed friction. He pulls his foreskin back, revealing his red tip. He pumps his hand along his length slowly, taking in the sight of you on your knees. You were weak looking up at him, biting your lip softly as you watched him. He was too luring, too attractive to think clearly but he waited on baited breath for your next instruction.

“That’s right baby, just like that. Does that feel good?” You beckon.

He nods his head at you, looking drunkenly at you.

“Yes, mama. But I want you to help me,” he quivers.

“I will baby, keep going,” you tell him standing up, wrapping your hand too close around his, helping him move more. His eyes grow wide as he looks down on you. His eyes were pleading for more, anything to help him feel good. 

You push him backward and he sits down when the back of his knees hit the bed. You sink to your knees again and get in between his spread legs. You gently pull his hand off of his length and put yours on it, pumping it slowly, and watch as his jaw falls open. Your other hand cups his balls and gently squeeze them before starting to suck on his cock. He lets out a guttural groan that makes your toes curl.

“Oh God baby,” he gasps.

You swirl your tongue around his head, making his hips buck up into your mouth more. You quickly take him out of your mouth and give him an accusatory look.

“You better hold still,” you command. He squirms a bit at your tone, his eyes still soft and needy.

“Baby I’m sorry. I-I’m just so sensitive. You feel too good to sit still,” he whimpers, lowering his eye contact like a scolded child.

“If you won’t sit still, then I won’t help you come. You don’t want that now do you?” You say with a smirk.

He quickly shakes his head no and adjusts himself on the bed, putting his hands on the sides of him. You smile at him and take his cock in your hand again, leading it to your mouth. You continue to suck only on the tip of him and he lets out a pent-up groan. He doesn’t move like he was told but you can tell he is dying for more. You move slowly, taking your time as you lick and suck more of his length into your mouth.

“Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he groans. 

You look up at him and he looks blissfully fucked out of his mind. He was taking short, shallow breaths the more you sucked on him and the way his eyebrows were furrowed made him look so damn attractive. You couldn’t get enough of the sight before you. His naked body was absolute perfection and he was all yours. 

He was so focused on you and only you. The way he was cussing your name after you took another inch of him in your mouth had you clenching your thighs together. You weren’t the one who was supposed to be teased, it was him who needed to be played with. You pumped the rest of his length in your hand, getting him closer and closer to finishing. You try to take most of his length inside you until he hits the back of your throat, making you gag a bit. He loves it, making his hips buck up.

“Goddamn mama, ahh- you feel so good,” he slurs. You keep sucking on him like this, moving slowly and then taking more of his cock deep inside your throat.

All the while, your hand slithers down to your sensitive bud and gently rubs it. You’re ultra-sensitive and moan when you feel the slight friction you give yourself. He groans when he feels you moan with him in your mouth. Your fingers spread the wetness he’s created and want him all over again. He made you such a needy mess and you were sure he was so proud of himself for it. Elvis groans louder as you keep playing with yourself. 

“Baby, are you touching with yourself?” he whimpers. You don’t respond to him right away, you just keep rubbing your clit and moan slightly as you work yourself to climax too. The sound of your arousal being spread by your fingers answered his question and he squeezes your arm. He was dying having no control, you could sense it. He wanted to fuck you so bad but he knew he wasn’t going to get his way. The fact he couldn’t see you tease yourself was torture alone for him. But he doesn’t move and keeps letting you take his cock the way you wanted to.

“I-I need-, fuck honey please you’re killing me. I can’t hold on much longer,” he moans to you. 

You look up at him through wet eyelashes and your eyes plead for him. You want him to come apart in your mouth. Your tongue licks on the underside of his shaft and relax your mouth, letting his cock hit the back of your throat. His hips stutter into you and he grips onto your hair tightly, letting his warm, thick seed coat your mouth. You groan with him, loving the sounds he’s making. 

“Oh yes mama, yes. Takin’ my cock so damn good,” he whimpers. His voice makes your core clench around nothing and your arousal only spills out of you more. Nothing gets you more turned on than the sound of him praising you. You move your head up and down his cock and let him move his hips a bit to help you take more of him.

His cock pulses a few more times and he slowly loosens the grip he has on your hair. You start to take his length out of your mouth, being careful to not spill any of him. You sit back on your heels to look up at him. He looks drunk on you and his chest still heaves a bit. You make sure you have his full attention when you’re about to swallow his load. You watch his pleading blue eyes look into yours and he nods his head. You swallow a few times, taking in all of him. You’re left a bit breathless as the ache in your core only throbs worse.

He reaches his hand out for you and quickly pulls you up on his lap. The wetness in between your legs spreads onto his thigh and you squeal because of it. He doesn’t do anything about it right away though. He was still too much of a haze after what you just did to him. He was still so needy and needed your lips on his. He grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss. It was intense and passionate, his tongue tangling with yours making you heave. It felt like he couldn’t get enough of you. You knew that to be a fact and felt smug about it.

He gently pulls away from you, brushing back the hair that has fallen on your face.

He smiles at you, “God you are too damn much,” he quips.

“I’m sorry that I caused you such suffering,” you tease.

“Oh, by all means, please make me feel like that more often,” he chuckles going in for another kiss. You try to calm and soothe each other but it’s too hard to do. He felt how needy you still were and you knew he wanted to take care of you.

But there wasn’t any rush, he wanted to take his time. He looks deeply into your eyes, staring like he just made a new discovery.

“What is it, baby?” You say softly, tracing his lips with your finger.

“I just love you, I love you so damn much. It just hit me I finally feel whole. There’s nothing I’m missing. I have everything I could ever want,” he coos.

His words hit you straight in the heart, love pounding away in your chest.

“I know me too. I’ve never felt like this.” You tremble. He smiles softly, kissing your forehead and laying you down on the bed. He lays on top of you, smothering you with kisses and gentle caresses as you both tremble with emotion.

“I’m here, I’m going to take care of you forever,” he says gently, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Yes please,” you sigh.

“I’m going to love you forever,” he says into your neck, gently nipping there. You gasp at the sensation, your body pushing into his more.

“Yes please, Elvis.”

He covers your body in wet kisses all the way down to your toes. He makes his way back up to your face, admiring the woman before him.

“Always,” he coos, wrapping you in his arms. Taking you through the stars, just you and him, in this slice of heaven you’ve found yourself in.

*

August 1973

The hum of excited conversation and laughter fills the suite. You too were giddy with excitement for this party. Elvis just had his opening night at The Hilton for his summer engagement here. He was absolutely electric with his new set. He had those familiar nerves when he got up on stage. That left leg of his shaking to the beat of the song and looking damn good in a black jumpsuit. 

No matter how many times you see him perform, you will never be able to hide the huge smile you have and how red your cheeks turn when you watch him. He knows it too. He moves his hips a certain way and you can’t help but squirm in your seat. It was insinuating too much. 

You were brave enough to walk up to the stage and wait for a kiss from him. It stopped him dead in his tracks, staring at you with the most cheeky grin on his face. 

“Well hello honey. What can I do for you?” He teased, making the whole audience bust out laughing. 

You beckon him to come closer with just the motion of your finger. He slyly grins and laughs into the microphone. 

“You want a kiss baby is that whatcha want? My wife wants a kiss, ladies and gentlemen.” He announces boisterously. The entire place bursts out into applause and he kneels in front of you at the edge of the stage. He drops the microphone at his feet and you reach on your tippy toes to kiss him. 

You kiss him with passion flowing through your veins. He grabs onto your face with both of his hands, a big smile forming on his face. You hold his face too, sighing as you kiss those lips. You pull away from him and he kisses your cheek, pausing by your ear. 

“Naughty, naughty girl,” he whispers, sending a tingle straight to your core. You just smile sweetly at him and wink, but he knows what effect he’s left on you. 

He picks up the microphone again, shaking his head, “lord have mercy,” he mumbles breathlessly, “Sorry everyone I’m losin’ control up here.” He jokes, making the crowd roar in more laughter. 

You check your outfit one more time in the mirror before joining the party. You went out shopping to buy something extra nice for his opening night party. You went for a sparkly black fringed tank top that had a little v-cut that showed the top of your breasts. It was cropped and showed your midriff a little with the matching fringe skirt that came to your mid-thighs. You wore your black boots that came to your mid-thighs. You felt pretty with your hair curled and your cheeks rosy with blush. You sparkled every time you moved. The finishing touch was the TLC necklace that Elvis gave you. It sparkled so easily with all the diamonds encrusted on it. It rested between your breasts, drawing attention to that area. You didn’t care about possible eyes staring at you. This was Elvis’ party and you only wanted to look nice for him. 

You mingle with the guests, everyone being sweet and cordial to you. Anna spots you in the crowd and is so happy to see you. It had been a few weeks since you saw each other and always had so much to catch up on. She visited you often at Graceland this summer. It was so nice to have a friend like her. She got used to your new life being a vampire. It didn’t freak her out as much as it used to and wasn’t afraid of anything you told her. 

Things had never been better with you and Elvis. You didn’t know you could be so happy and fulfilled with someone. He took off most of the summer months to be with you. You were spoiled beyond belief and he couldn’t stay away from you. He wasn’t lying when he said he was never going to let you out of his sight. After everything was done here in Vegas with Raphael, you both returned to Graceland. It was so beautiful and peaceful. He taught you how to ride a horse and you both would ride around the property for hours just talking. When you weren’t doing that, you were locked in his bedroom doing unspeakable things to each other. You were going to miss having his attention on you twenty-four hours a day. But he takes any performance seriously and was very focused on this new engagement. He has this newfound confidence about him and it showed on stage. He was just getting better with ‘age.’

You both find a seat by the window and catch up on everything you can. Your mind does wander to where Elvis might be but you’re sure he’s being a good host and mingling with his guests. 

As you continue to talk to Anna, a shiver runs down your spine. You snap your attention to the crowd of people standing around you both. On the other side of the room, Elvis’ luring eyes find yours. Oh lord, the way he was looking at you… it made you feel on fire. You knew what that look meant. You had gotten this look many, many times before. His eyes burned into your body, need and lust flowing through him. You couldn’t look much longer at him or the heat in between your legs would consume you. He was standing against the wall so casually but you knew he was dying for your attention. His appearance wasn’t that of a twenty-four-year-old, no, he looked like he was more in his thirties, looking as good as ever to anyone who laid eyes on him. His sideburns were longer and his hair looked fluffy and quaffed. 

He makes a come hither motion with his index finger and that’s all it takes for you to break away from your conversation with Anna. You walk through the sea of people, getting wide-eyed looks and whispers of how nice you look. You don’t pay attention to what they’re saying, you cannot tear your eyes away from his heated gaze. You get close enough to see what he’s wearing. He wore black leather pants and a leather jacket with nothing on underneath.

Jesus. You were weak. 

He was living, breathing, sex looking like this. You weren’t going to last a second being so close to him. He eyes you up and down, staring at you like prey. He pulls you into his arms quickly and holds you close. 

“Goddamn baby look at you,” he mumbles drunkenly. You just smirk at him and look at him closer. 

“And look at you. Looking quite nice in that leather,” you quip, running your fingers in his thick hair. He keeps staring at you, not caring how lewd those looks were. 

“I need you to know… you are making every single man in here, human or vampire, absolutely ravenous for you,” he growls in your ear, nipping softly on your ear lobe. He pushes your body firmly against his, feeling his hardening length push into your tummy. You take in a sharp breath, not giving in to him just yet.

“Oh, how terrible. I’m so sorry I’m so distracting for you,” you tease. 

“Is this the new outfit you bought yourself?” He asks. 

“Yes, it is. I don’t have to ask if you like it,” you quip cheekily. 

He smirks at you and nods his head, “Mhmm. I hate it. I hate how much it makes me want to flip up that short skirt and fuck you senseless right now.” He says hotly as he grabs a handful of your ass. You stare at him wide-eyed and feel the blood rush to your core. God, you couldn’t help but want him. It just became such an easy thing with him. One look from him and you’d find yourself shredding the clothes off his body and begging for his attention. 

“Elvis, there’s people watching,” you hiss. 

“I don’t care, let them watch,” he grumbles, squeezing you tighter and going in for a kiss. 

You melt into him, kissing him fervently. He pauses and pulls you around the corner. The little half bath is right there by the front door and he quickly pulls you in it, locking the door behind him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You say, trying not to giggle. He walks forward, pinning you to the wall, his hand above your head and his other on your waist. His gaze was intense and the mood in here was the same. You couldn’t breathe the way he was looking at you.

“What am I doing? Giving you exactly what you want,” he groans, nipping at your neck.

Damn him. You couldn’t hide anything from him and it was true. You wanted him to fuck you senseless right here right now.

Your heart gallops wildly and sigh into all of his touches. He doesn’t tease you for long, he doesn’t have the patience for that tonight. He turns you around quickly and bends you over at the waist, bringing your hips back to line up with his. You brace yourself on the sink and look back at him. He lifts up your skirt, exposing your lace panties to him. He lets out a pleased hum when he admires what you’re wearing.

“So pretty,” he smirks. You feel him tear at the thin delicate fabric with his fingers and your core becomes exposed to him. You knew you were embarrassingly wet already, the pulse in between your legs kept growing the longer you stood here. Elvis starts to unbutton the rest of his jacket, opening it up completely to expose his torso. 

“Here’s what I want you to do baby,” he hums. You hear the sound of his zipper clicking down and the heavy thud of his pants when they hit the floor. “I need you to watch yourself in the mirror. Look how pretty you are when you take my entire cock,” he coos, moving your head forward to the mirror. You stare at him wide-eyed in the reflection, in complete shock of his request. You wouldn’t be able to take this. It was torture. The last time he made you watch yourself in the mirror, you had never been more of a mess.

“Oh God, baby,” you whimper. You feel his tip tease at your entrance, gathering the slick that’s seeping out of you. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can honey, you’ll love it,” he teases. 

You can’t make any more excuses because he plunges his entire cock inside of you, making you cry out for him. Your jaw falls slack and your eyebrows furrow together as you feel him fill you completely.

“Ohmygod,” you whimper looking at yourself. You try to adjust to his size, you were tight around him and he groans when he feels this

“Mmm, sucha good girl,” he praises as he starts to thrust in and out of you. Your breathing becomes uneven and you hold on tightly to the sink. Each thrust made you wetter and easier to take all of him but it was still so intense. He wasn’t going to make love to you slow and tenderly, no, not tonight. He was going to fuck you just like he said he would.

“Look how pretty you are baby,” he praises, smoothing your hair off your face. You nod your head and press your lips together, not wanting to let out the loud groans you normally would.

His hips drive into you, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills the small bathroom. You continue to watch yourself, unable to handle much more of this. He makes these pleased, groans when he takes you hard and fast. You let your head fall down as he fucks you harder. He doesn’t like that though. All he asked you to do was watch yourself and you can’t even do that. You feel his hand gather your hair and he pulls your head up swiftly. He pulls out of you and leaves you moaning for him to be back inside of you. 

You look up at him in the reflection, groaning in agony.

“What did I say, baby? What did Daddy say,” He says low, his tone stern and powerful. 

You hesitantly make eye contact with him in the mirror, his presence too overwhelming. 

“Daddy said to watch myself get fucked,” you whimper. His tip teases your over-sensitive entrance making you squirm. He swiftly spanks your ass briefly, making you freeze.

“Mhmm, hold still mama,” he instructs.

“Yes, Daddy."

He thrusts his hips into you slowly, nodding his head at you.

“That’s right baby, just like that. Sucha good girl, keep watching yourself. Look at how much you like my cock inside of you.” He says as he thrusts his cock deeper, making your jaw drop. He was right of course, he felt so damn good and couldn’t get enough. Each movement he made has you rolling your eyes back. He had you right where he wanted you and the sounds of his grunts had your core flutter. You can’t help but glance at how he looks right now.

Dear god, he looks so good. You feel physically weak with the way he’s looking at you. The way his eyes have that heavy droop to them makes him somehow more attractive. The way the leather jacket hung off his body so effortlessly and how he bit his lip as he fucked you harder. He was loving every second of this by the sounds of it. It was as if he deprived of you. You had to tear your eyes away from the distractingly gorgeous man behind you or you were afraid he was going to stop.

Your eyes move back to your own reflection and you press your lips together, moaning softly as he fills you to the hilt. He gently grabs your hand and pulls it to the front of your body. Your fingertips find your swollen folds and how dripping wet you are. You gasp at the sensation and stare at him helplessly. 

“Touch yourself, baby girl. You feel how wet you are around me? You feel so damn good,” he growls in your ear as he thrusts slowly into you. The sound of how wet you are grows louder each time he moves and makes you want to die right here and now. You nod your head in the mirror and touch yourself, gathering the slick that’s there and rubbing your clit. Your breathing hitches the more you touch yourself, making you want to come apart quicker. 

The coil in your belly tightens the longer you do this and the way Elvis is moving inside you only makes it worse. You look at your current state in the mirror and looking a complete mess. Your eyes were pleading silently for him to make you come and your legs began to feel weak. 

“Daddy?” You whimper. 

“What is it, baby?” He grunts through his teeth. 

“I need to come. Please make me come,” you beg. 

His lips firm into a sly grin as he pounds into you, bringing you closer to the edge. 

“No, not yet baby. You can come when I am close,” he teases. 

You cry out in frustration, not sure you can hold on any longer. He watches how you were silently obeying him whether you like it or not. He looks at you with a luring gaze, watching his favorite meal squirm away under him. 

“Or…” he says low, “you can beg for it,” he says low, grinding his hips into you. 

Your brain feels scrambled and you don’t have it in you to fight him or anything he says. You nod your head at him in the reflection and gasp for breath. 

“Please Daddy, oh please,” you cry. 

He cocks his head a bit when he looks at you, taking his length out of you swiftly. You cry for him, not expecting him to do that. 

“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that sweetheart,” he says devilishly. You push your hips back and just need him to touch you again. You look at him in the mirror helplessly, aching for any kind of help. 

“Daddy, please. Please I need you!” You cry loudly. 

“What do you need baby?” He asks. 

“I need your cock baby. Please fuck me like you said you would,” you beg. 

He quickly makes you stand up and turn around. His eyes look like they’re on fire, so turned on and full of power. He lifts you up and has you wrap your legs around his waist as he pushes you up against the wall. You grunt when you feel the wall hit your back and he swiftly plunges his cock inside you again. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold onto him. You cry out for him once more and stare directly into his heated eyes. 

“Oh Daddy,” you gasp. 

He has a pleased smirk on his face as he fucks you harder and makes it impossible to think clearly. His hands squeeze onto your thighs tightly and moans your name as he gets closer to finishing. 

“All mine baby, mine,” he growls. 

“Yes, yes I’m yours, baby,” you gasp as he snaps his hips into you. 

“Good girl. Come with me. I want to see you come,” he demands. 

You nod your head at him fervently, silently thanking him because you wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. A few more thrusts inside of you and your pleasure skyrockets, holding onto him for dear life. Your core squeezes around him and look at him as he’s about to finish too. His eyes squeeze together and he groans loudly when he finishes inside of you. It was all too much and you absolutely loved it. You both are breathless and clutching onto one another. 

He covers your neck in kisses and starts to nip ravenously. You could feel how much he needed you, how he squeezed you tighter to keep you up against the wall. Your skin gets pricked with goosebumps the longer he nips and sucks on your neck. You lift his head up and want to look into his eyes. His fangs were descended and he bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at you. He was so hungry and needy. 

“Bite me,” you whimper.

He makes a low groan and goes straight for your neck, biting into it carefully. He takes his time drinking your blood, softly whimpering as he swallows. Your eyes can’t help but look at the sight in the mirror. Your bodies are still intertwined and your face has pleasure written all over it. His large hands consume your flesh as he feeds from you. His hair is now messy and has fallen on his forehead. The sight was quite erotic and you couldn’t help but like it. 

Mine, your brain screams. 

He gently takes his fangs out of you and looks at you softly. It wasn’t the same man a few minutes ago that was dominating and possessive. He wanted comfort and love now. He gently pulls himself out of you and sets you on the ground, holding you to his chest. He runs his hands through your hair and kisses your head tenderly. 

“Did you like that Daddy?” You ask innocently. He smirks at you, chuckling softly, “yes. I liked it a lot,” he says as he places a kiss on your lips. “Do you remember the first time we were in here together? When you first started?” He asks with a laugh. 

How could you forget! It was the next day after you two first started fucking each other and you were doing everything in your power to not succumb to his seductive nature. It clearly did not work. 

“Yes, how could I forget,” you say cheekily. 

“Well, I uhh… what we just did… that’s exactly what I wanted to do to you that day. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted it like that,” he says smugly. 

You can’t help but look at him dumbfounded, not believing that he was thinking such things so early on. 

You playfully hit him on the arm, “Elvis! My God you’re too much! You would have put me in a coma! My poor human heart couldn’t have handled that,” you tease. 

He can’t help but laugh and bring you to his chest again. 

“You’re the one that’s too much. But I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he teases, pulling your skirt back down. 

“You look so damn good tonight baby. I don’t know how I’m gonna stop myself from touchin’ ya,” he teases. 

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” you quip, “But… if you need me, you know where to find me…” you say, giving him a little wink as you reach for the door handle.

He stops you abruptly, pulling you back in close. He gives you this look, a similar one he gave you when he first saw you walk in those suite doors. 

Pure love and awe.

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know,” he coos, his lips inches away from yours.

“I love you too, baby. Remind me how much you do as often as you want,” you say sweetly, kissing his perfect lips.

“Always… it’s what I was made to do.”

*

*

*

Tagging:

@burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy_

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog.

@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs @sloppiest-of-jos

[oneforthemunny]

candy caned |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: you’re desperate to make eddie’s trailer more festive for the holidays. you bring over decorations, but eddie is only interested in one- a long, plastic candy cane.

apart of the twelve days of dom!eddie's christmas

contains: smut. 18+. dom/sub themes, hints at brat tamer/brat themes. spanking with implements (candy cane lol). role play-ish?? not really established but kinda alluded to it a little. aftercare. minors dni, read at your own discretion.

A cloud of smoke left Eddie’s lips, corners of his mouth pulling up into a half lipped smirk. Your car propelled over the gravel of the trailer park’s makeshift road, a playful beep of your horn. Eddie gave a small laugh, the air in front of him clouding at the contrast. He could hear the droning of George Michael’s Last Christmas, muffled from your car stereo but a reminder of why you were here. 

Eddie bummed the cigarette when you turned off the ignition, the radio silencing but that didn’t stop you. “Last Christmas, I gave you my heeearrrttt.” Your door swung open, voice trilling out into the quiet, rainy park. Eddie grinned, shoving his hands in his utility jacket, starting down the groaning steps of his trailer. 

“But the very next day,” You wiggled your brows at Eddie playfully, a toothy grin on your face that made his chest fill with a surge of heat. “C’mon, Ed, you know it!” You pouted playfully. 

“Yeah, I do. Everyone on planet fuckin’ Earth knows it.” Eddie snorted, heavy work boots nudging your own Sorels. His hands found your cheek, pressing a soft, full lipped kiss to your warm skin. The nicotine on his breath made your head spin, melting into his touch. 

Eddie’s lips quirked, fighting back a smile. “Still not singing it, though.” He muttered, fingers squishing your cheeks together playfully, pivoting towards your trunk. 

The huff you gave did make him grin. “Such a Scrooge.” You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “No holiday spirit at all.” 

Eddie waited by the trunk, eyes shining in amusement while you unlocked your trunk. His eyes widened, gaping at you in disbelief. “You’re shitting me.” 

“What?” You frowned, reaching for the bundle of lights, tangled from the half-hearted place in your apartment’s pitiful storage. 

“Baby,” Eddie blinked, positively confounded. When you’d suggested bringing some decorations over, he expected a few knick-knacks, maybe a tiny tree. Not the trunk full of Christmas decor, looking like something straight out of a Macy’s display window he’d pass in the city. 

“There’s… This is a lot.” Eddie tried not to sound as horrified as he felt. 

You frowned at him over your shoulder, hauling the tote bag with your Zellers Christmas Village in it over your arm. “You said you didn’t have anything.” 

“I don’t.” Eddie nodded, scanning over the tubs- tubs, plural- of ornaments. “But-But you didn’t have to bring all of this. What about your place?” 

You rolled your eyes lightly. “I barely stay there.” It was true, you’d slowly migrated into Eddie’s space over the months, staying more and more. “And you have more space. More decorating room.” The smile you gave him was bright, dazzling and excited. 

Eddie’s was… less enthusiastic, a mix between a grimace and dread. Still, he grabbed the box of stacked ornaments, the glass rattling as he walked up the stairs, following your giddy steps into the trailer. 

“No! Not so close to the edge!” You shrieked, Eddie nearly dropping the snowman figurine in his hand. 

He’d been a good sport, he really had. Eddie didn’t complain when you handed him the tangled lights. He kept his snarky comments to himself when you had him fluff out the tree branches to the plastic tree. He’d come close to snapping when you busted out the Elvis Christmas album, but he didn’t- he tuned it out, focused on anything else. 

The trailer was transformed, a Christmas wonderland, complete with the final touches of the snowmen and Santas on the window ledge. You pushed the snowman back, tilting it to your satisfaction, nodding with approval. 

Eddie let you. The two of you had established a ‘system’- he’d put it out, and you went behind him and fixed it how you wanted it. “What about these, baby?” Eddie hummed, picking up the bundle of plastic, long candy canes. “These go on the tree?”

“No,” You shook your head, placing the last figurine on the window. “They go outside. We can do them when it’s not raining.” 

Eddie turned the candy canes around in his hand, thin and spindly, intertwined plastic red and white that were long. He pulled one out by the hook, shaking it gently- testing it. Eddie brought it down, the swoosh whistling just barely over the music from his boombox. 

“Don’t break them.” You frowned, twisting an ornament so it faced forward. “Just put them to the side. We can do them tomorrow if you want.” 

Eddie stayed quiet, brows pinched together, tongue rolling over the inside of his cheek. You paused, watching him carefully as he studied the cane. 

“You know what?” Eddie hummed, his eyes still on the red and white cane in his hand. “I think I have an idea.” 

“What?” You looked at him, scanning the room for any spare place for the decoration. 

“I can think of something better to do with this.” Eddie’s lips curled, intriguingly dark. “It would really get me in this whole most wonderful time of the year mood.” His tone animated, dark and mocking the way it was when he played DND with his friends, when they were about to be presented with a dangerous risk of a choice. It made your heart skip.

“What?” You repeated, brow quipping, waving your hand for him to continue. 

Eddie’s eyes lit up, twinkling with excitement under the glow of the colorful strands on the tree. He lifted the cane, cutting it through the air with a satisfied swish!, holding your gaze with a darkened look of desire. 

Your tummy flipped, heat rushing through your core, thighs pressing together at the insinuation. 

Eddie lifted a brow. “Think you need it. Probably on the naughty list. Aren’t ya, baby?” He purred, spinning the cane in his hand. You squirmed under his gaze, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater. 

“‘M not.” You shuddered, shrinking under Eddie’s greedy gaze. “I’ve been very good this year.” 

Eddie sucked in a dramatic breath through his teeth, stalking towards you until he was towering over you. “Hmm, that’s not what I heard, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered, nose nearly touching yours. 

Your knees tightened, wobbling with excitement. “Good news is,” Eddie started, letting the candy cane slide through his hands, brushing over your own. “It’s not too late. Can correct you now. Teach you a lesson and make sure you’ll be extra good.” 

This wasn’t exactly what you were expecting after decorating. You had hoped the decor would maybe bring some holiday spirit to Eddie, and in a way… it did? 

“I want to be a good girl.” You squeaked, tiny and breathy tone that had Eddie’s cock twitching in his jeans. 

“Yeah? I can tell.” Eddie nodded, hands clamping around the plastic decoration. “I can make sure you are.” Eddie’s hand reached for your jaw, fingers splaying over your cheeks, pulling your gaze to him. “You just gotta ask me.” 

You whimpered behind closed lips, the throb between your legs growing and growing. Eddie tilted his head, curls silhouetted by the tree’s lights. He looked nearly angelic, so pretty- it was so deceiving. 

“C’mon,” Eddie rasped, thumb stroking over your cheekbone delicately. “Ask me to help you be a good girl.”

You squirmed in his touch, eyes casting down. His hand caught your jaw quickly, pulling your gaze to him. “Please…” You swallowed, heart thumping from the thrill of anticipation. “Please, help me be a good girl? I wanna be a good girl.” 

Eddie smiled, satisfied. A gentle, affectionate squeeze to your cheeks. “Alright, I’ll help you.” He nodded, stepping back from you. His arms crossed over his chest, candy cane in his left hand, dangling loosely in his grasp. 

“Strip for me.” Eddie nodded, tongue running down his cheek, taking in your frame. Your red sweater, cropped and positively festive. 

Your hands quaked with anticipation, unbuttoning your jeans carefully, shoving them so they pooled at your sock clad feet. Eddie watched you, leaning cooly against the couch, eyes roaming your frame until you were just in a high cut, cotton thong and lacy bra- his favorite. He had helped you pick it out, snuck in the dressing room when the snobby lingerie store manager stepped away so you could model it for him. 

You looked at him, arms down by your sides, the way he’d taught you to. Eddie lifted a brow, head bobbing at you. “C’mon, keep going.” 

“All of it?” You whined. “Eddie, can I keep my panties on please? You know I hate the cane-” 

“-All of it.” Eddie snapped firmly. “You wanna be good? You’re not acting like you wanna be good. Still acting like a brat. Still acting like a naughty girl.” 

Heat rushed to your cheeks, lip jutting out in a pout that had Eddie’s abs clenching at the throb in his cock. You knew what you were doing, giving him your most pitiful, pouty look to drive Eddie wild. It was working. 

Eddie’s brow lifted, a final warning that he was done arguing, eyes flicking down to your panties, heart skipping when your fingers hooked around them, pulling them slowly down your legs. 

Your hands found your sides again, palms twitching with excitement, smoothing down the top of your bare thighs. Eddie waited until your eyes lifted to his, holding your gaze for just a touch too long- long enough to have you squirming with anticipation. 

“Bend over the couch for me. Hands in front.” Eddie nodded, his voice dropping into that dark rasp it always did when he’d step into this domineering role with you. 

The faded green carpet lacked it’s usual softness, coated with glitter from the decor and you hadn’t got a chance to vacuum yet. The usual crocheted blanket was folded over the arm of the couch, a reindeer throw pillow next to it. You set the pillow in front of you, so you’d have something to grab onto, bending over the arm of the couch. 

Your eyes stayed forward, Eddie’s hum of approval muffled out by his heavy soled footsteps moving closer to you. “Hm, how many strokes does a naughty girl deserve?” Eddie sighed animatedly. He was putting on a show for you, for him too. 

“What do you think?” Eddie tapped the side of your hip lightly with the cane, dragging the cool plastic over your ass.

You shuddered, the hook of the candy cane ghosting over the crack of your cheeks. “I don’t know, sir.” You grit, eyes closing, fighting the quake in your voice. “Three?” 

“Three?” Eddie scoffed, halting his movements, the hook side of the cane pressed against the fatty flesh under your ass. “Try again, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t know.” You whined, toes wiggling into the carpet. You were throbbing, dizzy with the desire for Eddie to touch you, spank you, fuck you- do something to you. 

“Hm, better watch it, naughty girl.” Eddie hissed, eyes narrowed in on your ass. He pressed the cane up, lifting your cheek so he could sneak a peek at your puffy lips, already slick with your own arousal. “Can see why you got on the naughty list. Little bratty thing, aren’t ya?” 

“‘M not.” You pouted, chin dropping into your outstretched arms. 

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true.” Eddie tsked, the cane moving closer and closer to your pussy. “And I think you should get a stroke for every month you were naughty this year. Twelve.” 

You squirmed, hips wiggling and rocking in place. Eddie grinned, smoothing a hand over your spine. You jumped, relaxing under the familiar touch. “How’s that sound?” Eddie muttered, tapping your shoulder blade gently. 

You turned back, chin hooking on your shoulder to meet his gaze. “Twelve?” Eddie asked, his hand still rubbing over your spine soothingly, like he did every night to lull you to sleep. 

It made your heart swell with a warmth that had your cheeks burning with tingly heat. “Yeah.” You whispered, squeaking at the small squeeze Eddie gave your hip. 

Eddie’s hand rubbed back down your spine, setting the candy cane on your upturned ass, shedding his sweatshirt slowly. “Think you’ll remember to be good this year after this?” Eddie questioned, tossing his sweatshirt on the chair behind him. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You know what happens next year if you’re not good, right? If you’re on the naughty list again?” Eddie grabbed the cane slowly, dragging it over your ass and thighs. 

“No, sir, I don’t.” You choked out, clenching the pillow in front of you. 

“You get double.” Eddie said surely, bringing the cane down behind you. You felt the air on your skin, knees tightening with expectancy, the lingering threat looming closer and closer. “After that, I’ll just have to come down here every month. Cane you and make sure you get a monthly reminder to be good.” 

You whined behind closed lips, hips lifting at the threat. Eddie grinned, lining the candy cane up to your ass. “And believe me, if I have to come down every month, take time outta my schedule to teach you a lesson, I won’t be as nice as this. You better consider yourself lucky this time. Better learn from it.” 

“I will.” You panted, arms shaking from how hard you were clenching them. “I’ll be good from now on. I promise.” You sounded so sweet. Tone so airy and pouty and adorable, that tone that made Eddie’s vision blurry with desire. 

“Good.” Eddie nodded, tapping the cane against your ass. “I’ll make sure of it. Count ‘em out for me, baby.” 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose. The cane pulled back, a whoosh! filling the air before it was snapping into your skin, a biting sting from the plastic spreading in a line across your cheeks. Your hips jumped, a tiny huff of a whine leaving your lips at the shock. It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as the wooden cane Eddie used in the past, but still uncomfortable. 

“One,” You breathed out through gritted teeth. 

Eddie lined up the cane again, higher this time, before it was pulled back and sailing onto your bare skin, harder. Hard enough to have your head snapping up, toes bouncing off the carpet. 

“Two!” You squeaked, Eddie’s hand on the small of your spine to steady you. 

He watched you carefully. If this was the normal cane, you’d be crying by now- sniffly in the least. He lined it up lower, where your ass met your thighs. He lifted his hand, bringing the cane down with the type of strength he used with his hard soled slipper, hard and quick, pulling the sound he was looking for right out of you. 

The yowl, punched straight out of your core, back arching and hips wiggling away. “Ow! Ow! Three!” You hissed, a white knuckled grip on the pillow. Your nose burned, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes now, the sting was searing now, leaving a sizzling sting that had you bouncing from foot to foot. 

Eddie smirked in satisfaction, stilling you again with his hand firm on your lower back. “You learning your lesson?” Eddie grunted, the candy cane falling back down again, that white line imprinting your skin before disappearing, your cry following like clockwork. 

“Yes!” You whined, and the petulant, bratty foot stomp that followed had Eddie’s cock lurching. “Four!” 

“You’re gonna be really good this year, aren’t ya?” Eddie growled. 

Swish! 

“Yes! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” You groaned, a watery, pathetic wail. “Five!” You bounced from toe to toe over the couch, hips shaking like you could possibly shake the sting out that way. The ache between your legs was blinding, rivaling the sting growing furiously on your backside. 

Another stroke came before you were ready, quicker than the last time but just as unforgivingly searing. You cried out, a bubbling sob that tore from your throat. “You gonna make me do this again? Gonna be on the naughty list again?” 

“Noooo,” You cried out. Your face rubbed against your arms, snotty cries from a burning nose and throat that you tried to soothe. 

“What number was that?” Eddie tapped the cane lightly against you. 

“Six.” You muttered, so pitifully sweet it made Eddie’s heart burst. The sniffle that followed was even more piteous, wet and snotty and somehow still bratty. 

“Hm, ‘s not lookin’ great, baby.” Eddie teased, the cane snapping against your sore skin. “Already forgettin’.” 

“Se-even.” You sobbed, head pressed into your arms, slack over the couch. 

Eddie was nearly drooling, watching the way your hips rocked onto the arm of the couch for friction, catching glimpses of your pussy. 

“You wanna be on the nice list.” Eddie nodded, striping you again right across the middle of your ass.

“Eight.” 

 “You know what nice girls get?” Eddie pressed, watching your shoulders shudder before he caned you, higher this time. 

“No!” You hissed, knees buckling and legs quaking after the hit. “Nine.” 

“Good girls who are on the nice list,” Eddie leaned forward, hovering over your squirming frame. “Get their pussies eaten out.” You whimpered, hips grinding down harder on the arm of the couch. “They get my tongue used on them as a reward for being so good.” 

“Please, Ed, please.” You babbled, throbbing, needy, and your mind already numbed with the overwhelming sensation of pleasure and pain. “Please.” 

“Nuh-uh-uh.” Eddie tsked, shaking his head at you. “You haven’t been good.” His hand rubbed over the hot skin of your ass, tickling just above your hidden pussy, grinning at the whine you gave. You stomped, huffing into the couch. There she was, the little brat he loved to play with.

“If you were good,” Eddie grunted, swinging the cane back and forward into your burning skin. You wailed, hand slapping into the couch, clawing at the cushion to keep yourself from reaching back. “You’d get eaten out.” 

“T-Ten.” You whimpered, a pouty sound. Eddie could practically see your face- brows creased in a frown, lip jutted, tear stained cheeks and a runny nose. 

“I’d use my tongue on you,” Eddie purred. You whined, nasally and desperate, hips swiveling down for friction. “I’d make you cum over and over and over.” 

You gasped when the cane cut into your ass with an unforgiving snap, an inflamed imprint left in its wake.  “Eleven.” 

“I’d even let you sit on my face so you could grind down just like that.” Eddie teased, tapping your rocking hips with the cane lightly. “Let you do that on my face instead of on the couch, rubbing your pussy all over my couch like that when you’re getting spanked. Seems awfully naughty, if you ask me.” He tutted. 

Your toes curled, his words were cruel, teasing, made your body burn with embarrassed heat- yet you were so close. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna be very good this year. Don’t know if I believe you.” Eddie shook his head. “You’re supposed to be getting punished, not enjoying this.” 

“I-I’m not.” You panted, shaking your head furiously. 

“You’re not?” Eddie scoffed, setting the cane to rest on your ass. His hand dipped between your thighs, fingertips sliding through your sopping folds easily, smirking at the gasp that tore from your throat. 

Eddie’s finger sunk into your soaking hole, pumping in and out at an agonizingly slow pace that had your head lifting, eyes pinched in pleasure. You were close, he could feel it, feel it in the way you clenched and strangled around his finger. He pulled away just as quickly as he put them in, your eyes flying open at the loss. 

“What-” 

“Look at this,” Eddie commanded, his fingers coated with your sticky arousal, pointer and middle finger spreading, webs of your slick forming with ever widening of his fingers. “You think someone not enjoying this would have that? Hm? Look at it.” 

Your cheeks were scorching with heat, lifting your gaze shyly to his dangling fingers in front of your face, shaking your head lightly. 

Eddie hummed in satisfaction, pulling his hand back, wiping your release over your burning ass. You yelped, jumping at the burn of his touch on your sore skin. Eddie’s lips curled, grabbing the candy cane off your hips. 

“Last one.” Eddie muttered, lining the festive decoration up against your skin, tapping gently. “You ready, baby?” 

“‘M ready.” You sighed, cheek pressed into your outstretched arms. 

Eddie was sure he was about to bust at the sight of you- glassy eyed, sniffling lightly, whimpering with every roll of your hips. Oh, it was too fuckin’ much. 

Eddie brought the cane down hard- hard enough he thought it might snap in half. The final blow that had you gasping, a strangled whine huffing out of your chest in a gasping heave before your body tensed, quivering at the sensation the impact left. 

“T-Twelve.” You whimpered, cheek pressed against your arm, so spacy in ecstasy you were dribbling out of the corner of your mouth. 

Your ass was stinging with that itchy, red-hot irritation that had you desperate to rub it out, only you knew it would only make the ache worse. You were throbbing between the legs, slick and frustrated, desperate for him to touch you. 

Eddie’s hand skated in a feather light touch over your ass, passing so delicately over each of your lips, coated with your own slickness. “You learned your lesson?” Eddie hummed, swallowing the spit that filled his mouth at the sight of you, presented so perfectly over the arm of the couch for him- for him to fuck you. 

“Ready to be a good girl? Be on the nice list?” His hand didn’t stop, sliding down the inside of your thigh, pushing lightly so you’d spread your legs. 

“Yeah,” You sighed, airy and a little pouty, cheek still pressed to the couch pillow. 

“Yeah? Look at me, baby.” Eddie patted your thigh gently, hovering over you. 

You blinked, looking up at him with sweet, glassy, rounded eyes. “You alright?” Eddie asked, scanning your features carefully, testing the waters of where you were. 

“Yeah.” You hummed, lip jutting ever so lightly. “I’ll be good now.” 

“I know you will.” Eddie nodded. “Are you alright? You with me, baby?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded, shimmying your body so it contorted and angled towards him. “I’m ready to be good, so you can fuck me now.” The bluntness of your words mixed with the light, breathy tone, so deceivingly sweet- it made Eddie’s head spin. 

“Yeah?” He grinned, dimples creasing. “I was gettin’ to that, baby.” 

“You can get to it now.” You hummed, slipping out of that hazy fog that he always got you in, back into your bratty ways. Eddie’s lips twitched, biting back a smirk. “‘M ready for it. I’ll be really good this year.” 

“Alright, you earned it, I guess.” Eddie teased, pulling you by the small of your waist back up the arm of the couch. “How you want me, babe? This good?” 

“Yeah, just let me-” You snatched the pillow in front of you, pushing it under your chest. “Ready.” 

“You sure are, holy shit.” Eddie muttered, eyes glued to your parted thighs, your sopping cunt making his head reel  at the sight. “You gonna be a good girl? Be my good girl?” 

“Yes,” You whine, hips wiggling back further to him. “I’ll be good, so good, please.” 

Eddie slipped two fingers into your sopping hole, pumping in and out just as slow as before. Your toes curled, body jolting with that euphoric, white hot bolts of pleasure. A small whine, quiet but pathetically desperate slipped from your lips. 

Another whine followed, huffier this time, more demanding. “Alright, alright, I gotcha.” Eddie gritted, pumping his shaft slowly, smearing his own pre-leakages over his head, down his shaft. “I gotcha. Relax, baby.” 

Your vision blurred at the feeling of him pushing into you, that achingly familiar stretch, your walls tightening with every slow roll of his hips further and further into you. Your ass was raw with the still fresh strokes of the cane, Eddie’s hips and groin snapping into the irritated skin with a purposeful punch of his cock inside of you. 

Tears brimmed your eyes, of pleasure or pain or both, you weren’t really sure. The sensation was enough to have you mindless, cheek smushed into the couch cushion, whimpering. “Fuck, you gonna be my good girl? Be my-my nice girl?” Eddie hissed, eyes half-lidded, hypnotized by the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock with every roll of his hips. 

“Yeah.” You whined, a ghosting of a whimper tailing on your words. 

“Yeah.” Eddie grunted in a mocking tone, fingers sinking into the fat of your hips. “Holy fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good. You know that? ‘Course you know that. This feel good? Am I makin’ you feel good, baby?” His hand fell on your ass, a stinging hand print left in its wake on your already sensitive skin. 

You yelped, head snapping up at the impact, red manicured nails curling around the needlepoint pillow, grappling at the loopy stitches while Eddie plowed into you from the back. Fingers bruising your hips and waist from the way Eddie was using your body to fuck himself, until he finally halted, heavy breathing gasps of pleasure. He pulled out, a thick stream of his own release drooling out of you and towards the faded floral upholstery. 

Somehow, the lights on the trees and strung along the walls seemed brighter now, with you curled into his neck. Eddie blew the smoke away from you, towards the chilly night air that crept in from the open window. 

“I think I kinda get it.” Eddie muttered, a hand rubbing down your back soothingly, pulling you out of your post orgasm hazy state. You hummed, nuzzling into his chest, curling into his body for warmth from the breeze that swept in. “Get why you like all this stuff.” 

You lifted your gaze, eyes still glowing with the remnants of emotion, but rounding in the sweetest way. “Yeah? You gettin’ in the spirit, Munson?” You giggled softly. 

Eddie snorted lightly, rolling the cigarette between his pointer and thumb over the ashtray. “Maybe.” He shrugged. “You lettin’ me spank you with a candy cane really got me in the spirit, babe.” You laughed, head dropping to his shoulder, eyes batting up at his. 

The candy canes lined the path to Eddie’s trailer the next day. You helped him put them out in the freezing cold, occasionally rubbing your tender ass when he’d swish the decoration playfully, eyes dark and dazzling at you. One lone candy cane stayed inside, hanging on Eddie’s bedroom door knob to make it look more festive, or so he said.